Post by Gib on Feb 24, 2010 18:57:27 GMT -6
To say it wasn’t a good week would be an understatement.
Never had I made the rookie errors that I made last week when Andrew Jacobsen bested me, I looked like a punk, I looked like a pansy and lost to only the fifth person in my time here. I hadn’t lost a match in so long, but I guess that is a good thing because now I truly understand just how human I am. The streak of wins, the countless victories all lead to the feeling of perfection, one that can make a man comfortable.
But now I am not comfortable anymore, and it isn’t just because of the loss. It is because of the events Angel has brought back to me, it is because of the act which I perpetrated last week and once, once a time ago I felt clad in armor, I had the best metals protecting me in perfect fit.
And in one week it changed.
Now I am naked.
Now I am defenseless…
But not because of why you would think. See, I should feel remorseful or sad. I should be upset about what I did to my son, but I think everyone knows that shot was meant for you. I think Xander knows that you are using him, I raised him to be smarter then that.
At one point I thought maybe something else mattered, but after drilling my son with the most devastating right hand in the business I realized that only one thing mattered, the world title. I don’t need Xander, I have tried to reunite with him but instead he wants to play cult follower to you, cult follower to a wannabe who tries to juggle the duel life of family man and bad ass wrestling star.
See, I was the bad ass superstar.
Never was the family man.
And you want me to feel remorse about it, you want to see that there is an end in site Angel? There isn’t. You can’t have both. See, the words you said about my wife, talking about how I beat her couldn’t be further from the truth. I never touched my wife, my son, he may have construed the truth a little bit in order to further enter his ludicrous world of the emo lifestyle. He does have a lifetime membership to the master of the roll up fan club.
Angel. You want something that no longer exists, you want something that is dead. I am unsure why you want to face Harold. Is it because you want to be added to the small list of people who have defeated him? Is it because you want to be taken apart because I wonder whether you have a chance whatsoever to defeat Gib, let alone Homeless Harold. My loss last week made me realize that I had gotten too comfortable.
You are no monster, you aren’t a person that I stay up late at night thinking about. Yes, you are a world champion, yes you got my son to turn on me and are attempting to use the mind games of my failed life against me but that doesn’t work. And you know why…
Because a long time ago the last bit of my pride was torn from my soul. The night my wife died I started not caring about what others thought of me. The only thing I care about now is the world title. I don’t care about beating you, I don’t care about reuniting with my son. I care only about holding that title around your waist, it isn’t beating you that excites me it is the same thing that has supercharged me my whole career.
The roar of the crowd…
The electricity of the fans…
The power I gain from hearing my name shouted in unison…
But you don’t know about that Angel, see, you are from a jaded time, a time when wrestlers don’t appreciate everything the fans give to them. You act like the world owes you something like the people of the federation should like you even though you don’t put your heart into it like we used to. You don’t make the sacrifices, the fact is Angel you wouldn’t have survived back then.
Look at me, a crumbled, broken down old man with nothing in his life…
Nothing at all..
Except wrestling.
But when you have wrestling, when you have the feelings that are better then anything else that is what this business is all about and in defeating you this weekend you will see the return of the old era. An era where feuds weren’t settled after one match but when they want on for years, and people couldn’t get enough of them. I am going to bring you back a couple decades, I am going to teach you the meaning of a good, old fashioned beat down, a beat down that you will recover from, just in time to get another.
This feud won’t be settled in one match, this won’t be settled with my rehabilitation…
It will be settled when I have decided that you have had enough, when I have decided that you have had enough. See, this week you did something that I would have never done to an opponent; you insulted my dead wives memory. In doing that you have not only humiliated yourself but you humiliated the business that we work in. What the generation of today doesn’t realize is that some things are never discussed, some things are never mocked.
You are going to learn the difference between should of and should not of. Do what you will with my son Angel, maybe you can turn him into the man that I never saw. Maybe you can make him stop acting like such a crybaby douche. But my wife, you will not soil her memory any further.
And I will make sure you understand the penalty for that… And you will pay for as long as I determine…
You will pay in your blood…
In your sweat…
In your humiliation.
(Scene opens to Gib’s mansion in the desert. He sits outside, soaking in the rays. A twelve pack of beer sits next to him, unopened and sweating. A car comes roaring into the area and a woman we haven’t seen in awhile jumps out of the vehicle. Ione, the woman he met when on honeymoon with Adam and Kelly steps out of the vehicle, her face is mixed with anger and sadness)
(the relationship that must have been carried on between these two must have been kept secret because apparently they are emotionally invested in one another)
Ione: Is it true? Is what he said true? Did you beat you wife?
(Gib’s face is long, scarred with the emotional beat down from the years you can read the years of exhaustive work and emotional degradation he has suffered)
Gib: I… don’t… know… Those years are blurry, I wasn’t a good person, a good husband or a good father. I know what I have been accused of but the only person that would know whether or not that is true is dead, she died a long time ago and unfortunately we will never know what her thoughts on this are.
Ione: Are you calling your son a liar? Obviously Angle heard that information from him.
Gib: My son has never been truthful, he has never been right. Some people are just born useless and he is one of them…
(Her face drops, a mask of disappointment covers it)
Ione: Well, that isn’t the person I want to be involved with. You are heading down a dark path, a path that no one will travel with you.
(The first flicker of life crosses his face, and it isn’t what you would expect. It is a smile)
Gib: I have spent my entire life alone, what would make you think that I want to change it now?
(She lowers her head)
Ione: Whatever…
(Gib doesn’t respond, his gaze turns to the beer, sweating, beckoning as she turns, entering her car and slamming the door behind her. She speeds off and the camera goes back to Gib and what you see is truly troubling, a beer half empty is pressed against his lips, the contents pouring down his throat)
(And you remember)
(Regression)
Never had I made the rookie errors that I made last week when Andrew Jacobsen bested me, I looked like a punk, I looked like a pansy and lost to only the fifth person in my time here. I hadn’t lost a match in so long, but I guess that is a good thing because now I truly understand just how human I am. The streak of wins, the countless victories all lead to the feeling of perfection, one that can make a man comfortable.
But now I am not comfortable anymore, and it isn’t just because of the loss. It is because of the events Angel has brought back to me, it is because of the act which I perpetrated last week and once, once a time ago I felt clad in armor, I had the best metals protecting me in perfect fit.
And in one week it changed.
Now I am naked.
Now I am defenseless…
But not because of why you would think. See, I should feel remorseful or sad. I should be upset about what I did to my son, but I think everyone knows that shot was meant for you. I think Xander knows that you are using him, I raised him to be smarter then that.
At one point I thought maybe something else mattered, but after drilling my son with the most devastating right hand in the business I realized that only one thing mattered, the world title. I don’t need Xander, I have tried to reunite with him but instead he wants to play cult follower to you, cult follower to a wannabe who tries to juggle the duel life of family man and bad ass wrestling star.
See, I was the bad ass superstar.
Never was the family man.
And you want me to feel remorse about it, you want to see that there is an end in site Angel? There isn’t. You can’t have both. See, the words you said about my wife, talking about how I beat her couldn’t be further from the truth. I never touched my wife, my son, he may have construed the truth a little bit in order to further enter his ludicrous world of the emo lifestyle. He does have a lifetime membership to the master of the roll up fan club.
Angel. You want something that no longer exists, you want something that is dead. I am unsure why you want to face Harold. Is it because you want to be added to the small list of people who have defeated him? Is it because you want to be taken apart because I wonder whether you have a chance whatsoever to defeat Gib, let alone Homeless Harold. My loss last week made me realize that I had gotten too comfortable.
You are no monster, you aren’t a person that I stay up late at night thinking about. Yes, you are a world champion, yes you got my son to turn on me and are attempting to use the mind games of my failed life against me but that doesn’t work. And you know why…
Because a long time ago the last bit of my pride was torn from my soul. The night my wife died I started not caring about what others thought of me. The only thing I care about now is the world title. I don’t care about beating you, I don’t care about reuniting with my son. I care only about holding that title around your waist, it isn’t beating you that excites me it is the same thing that has supercharged me my whole career.
The roar of the crowd…
The electricity of the fans…
The power I gain from hearing my name shouted in unison…
But you don’t know about that Angel, see, you are from a jaded time, a time when wrestlers don’t appreciate everything the fans give to them. You act like the world owes you something like the people of the federation should like you even though you don’t put your heart into it like we used to. You don’t make the sacrifices, the fact is Angel you wouldn’t have survived back then.
Look at me, a crumbled, broken down old man with nothing in his life…
Nothing at all..
Except wrestling.
But when you have wrestling, when you have the feelings that are better then anything else that is what this business is all about and in defeating you this weekend you will see the return of the old era. An era where feuds weren’t settled after one match but when they want on for years, and people couldn’t get enough of them. I am going to bring you back a couple decades, I am going to teach you the meaning of a good, old fashioned beat down, a beat down that you will recover from, just in time to get another.
This feud won’t be settled in one match, this won’t be settled with my rehabilitation…
It will be settled when I have decided that you have had enough, when I have decided that you have had enough. See, this week you did something that I would have never done to an opponent; you insulted my dead wives memory. In doing that you have not only humiliated yourself but you humiliated the business that we work in. What the generation of today doesn’t realize is that some things are never discussed, some things are never mocked.
You are going to learn the difference between should of and should not of. Do what you will with my son Angel, maybe you can turn him into the man that I never saw. Maybe you can make him stop acting like such a crybaby douche. But my wife, you will not soil her memory any further.
And I will make sure you understand the penalty for that… And you will pay for as long as I determine…
You will pay in your blood…
In your sweat…
In your humiliation.
(Scene opens to Gib’s mansion in the desert. He sits outside, soaking in the rays. A twelve pack of beer sits next to him, unopened and sweating. A car comes roaring into the area and a woman we haven’t seen in awhile jumps out of the vehicle. Ione, the woman he met when on honeymoon with Adam and Kelly steps out of the vehicle, her face is mixed with anger and sadness)
(the relationship that must have been carried on between these two must have been kept secret because apparently they are emotionally invested in one another)
Ione: Is it true? Is what he said true? Did you beat you wife?
(Gib’s face is long, scarred with the emotional beat down from the years you can read the years of exhaustive work and emotional degradation he has suffered)
Gib: I… don’t… know… Those years are blurry, I wasn’t a good person, a good husband or a good father. I know what I have been accused of but the only person that would know whether or not that is true is dead, she died a long time ago and unfortunately we will never know what her thoughts on this are.
Ione: Are you calling your son a liar? Obviously Angle heard that information from him.
Gib: My son has never been truthful, he has never been right. Some people are just born useless and he is one of them…
(Her face drops, a mask of disappointment covers it)
Ione: Well, that isn’t the person I want to be involved with. You are heading down a dark path, a path that no one will travel with you.
(The first flicker of life crosses his face, and it isn’t what you would expect. It is a smile)
Gib: I have spent my entire life alone, what would make you think that I want to change it now?
(She lowers her head)
Ione: Whatever…
(Gib doesn’t respond, his gaze turns to the beer, sweating, beckoning as she turns, entering her car and slamming the door behind her. She speeds off and the camera goes back to Gib and what you see is truly troubling, a beer half empty is pressed against his lips, the contents pouring down his throat)
(And you remember)
(Regression)