Post by Freakke on Jul 10, 2010 22:54:30 GMT -6
Freakke stood in the halls of the Qwest Center watching the crews set up for Picture Perfect. He kept himself out of the way but with the camera crew, that meant he was confined to an office view of the set up. He looked down from where the rich and the lucky sat during these events. Occasionally he'd look around and visibly pause as he wondered how anyone would pick this over the front row. He looked back to the ring and then to the camera, gently smiling.
"Tomorrow is the day that will tell us many things to come. Will we have new X Division, Honor, Tag Team, Extreme, and World Champions? Will the Knite Family and Steve Awesome finally settle their problems? Will Nicholas Cage show up for the Nicholas Caged match as Special Referee? Oh, wait...I'm not supposed to tell you guys that...."
Freakke stopped and then started to whistle. He stepped out of the camera view but it followed him a second later.
"Alright so I don't know anything about Nicholas Cage. I doubt the guy even knows about the match. It's either that or he's Tivo-ing it or something. Anyhow, I'm here to talk about one match, the X Division Championship. While I can't claim to know whats going to happen even then, I really can't say anything about any other match. I just can't. Although I hear the Three Knites of Awesome might be brought up on an episode of Jerry Springer."
Freakke shrugged and smirked. His attention went back to the ring for a second and then he sat down in a chair.
"Well, lets see. What haven't we talked about? We mentioned he has a vendetta against me because I went crazy and did something I ought naught have and he feels he's justified in whining about how its not fair and all that. I've made mention of not caring about his cheeseless whine. I've talked about our history together, which can be looked on as good or bad either way you look at it. I'm almost done. Although I do want to touch up on some things."
He stayed stretched for this but ended up in a comfortable laid back look. His arms crossed, he began to speak.
"First and foremost, Mr. Happy doesn't know how to beat me. Ronald McJagoff doesn't know how to hurt me. Half the clowns you caught probably don't even know who I am, and the other half only know me or my grandfather by reputation. The best answer you'll get is probably to just go and do your best or two stab me, which will mean you not only lose you're chance at the belt, it also means you're probably going to jail. If thats the case, I left you some Soap on a Rope in you're locker. Seth, you can't hurt me. I don't have a weakness you can exploit. What weaknesses you do find won't help you this weekend. As long as I'm not dead, you're going to have an uphill battle. You're just gonna have to do this the old fashioned way. Step in line and take a ride on the Smiledriver."
Freakke sat up straight and laced his fingers in front of him.
"Seth, also in your last promo, you said the two things you have to focus on in this industry are Yourself and Championships. Well, I understand what you think there. To focus on making yourself better, to become the best and making it so you can prove it. To be The Man so to say. One way is to hold a Championship and become a real Champion. Now, I've admitted what I did was wrong. I've even gone so far as to say I'm sorry. Where the problem lies, is that you think you're the one who deserves to have your ass kissed. I don't care how many times you failed to get a belt in four years. Whining isn't gonna help you get one...unless you count a toy replica. Hell, if you bitch and moan enough someone will buy you one...or have you committed. I'm sorry but you're sympathy is in another promotion."
Freakke shrugged again. He leaned forward and the camera zoomed in on the clown's face.
"Listen, Seth, I like you less and less with each word that comes from your mouth. Honestly, I don't care about whatever little issues you have with me. I don't care that your head is so far up your ass, that it would take the Jaws of Life, Superman, and God to ever help you smell the fresh air again. I don't even care that you have it all wrong about this industry and that the way you're going, you'll burn out before you ever get your title. The thing is, and all know that I've forgotten this from time to time, that we're here because of the fans. We get to do what we do because of them. You say that its Yourself and Championships, yet to get there, there have to be fans. What you want, and I see it now, is to be immortalized. Titles don't mean anything without the fans. We don't mean anything without the fans. It isn't just me saying this, you can't become a real Champion without the fans. If it weren't for them, you'd be flipping burgers somewhere, and I'd be juggling in a tent somewhere...I take that back...I'd still have fans...Accounting?"
Freakke pondered but shook it off a moment later. He sat back and smirked.
"Seth, even if you win, its hollow until you fight for something more than yourself. No one can last long on their own. An inanimate object isn't gonna cut it either. Speaking of..."
Freakke reached over the chair and held up the Magician's Box.
"I suppose now would be as good a time to open this as any."
He tapped his fingers on it once and smirked. Then, the Carnival King set it on the floor. He reached for the latch that held it closed and pulled the lid open. He reached his hand in and pulled out a few bits and pieces of junk, tossing them behind the chair callously. Then, his hands pulled up a belt. He brushed the plates once before turning it to the camera. The X Division Belt gleamed on a shiny black belt. He held it there for a moment and then set it down on his lap.
"Now, I doubt anyone didn't see that coming but still, you gotta go with the classics most of the time. Seth, this is what you want. This is the point of contention between us. You want it. Then you have to come get it. Tomorrow I said will tell a lot of things. I really don't know what will happen, but I do know this, win or lose, I will make this match one to remember. I will make you fight for your chance at holding this belt. I will do everything in my power, to bring the Reign of the Cretins. Above all, I'm going to do what I do best. I'm going to entertain the fans who come to see me put my boot up someone's ass!"
He stood up and grabbed the belt with one hand. He looked down at it and then he looked back to the camera. His hand slowly rose into the air and the X Division Belt began to shine. The camera faded away but the belt stayed high in the air.
"Tomorrow is the day that will tell us many things to come. Will we have new X Division, Honor, Tag Team, Extreme, and World Champions? Will the Knite Family and Steve Awesome finally settle their problems? Will Nicholas Cage show up for the Nicholas Caged match as Special Referee? Oh, wait...I'm not supposed to tell you guys that...."
Freakke stopped and then started to whistle. He stepped out of the camera view but it followed him a second later.
"Alright so I don't know anything about Nicholas Cage. I doubt the guy even knows about the match. It's either that or he's Tivo-ing it or something. Anyhow, I'm here to talk about one match, the X Division Championship. While I can't claim to know whats going to happen even then, I really can't say anything about any other match. I just can't. Although I hear the Three Knites of Awesome might be brought up on an episode of Jerry Springer."
Freakke shrugged and smirked. His attention went back to the ring for a second and then he sat down in a chair.
"Well, lets see. What haven't we talked about? We mentioned he has a vendetta against me because I went crazy and did something I ought naught have and he feels he's justified in whining about how its not fair and all that. I've made mention of not caring about his cheeseless whine. I've talked about our history together, which can be looked on as good or bad either way you look at it. I'm almost done. Although I do want to touch up on some things."
He stayed stretched for this but ended up in a comfortable laid back look. His arms crossed, he began to speak.
"First and foremost, Mr. Happy doesn't know how to beat me. Ronald McJagoff doesn't know how to hurt me. Half the clowns you caught probably don't even know who I am, and the other half only know me or my grandfather by reputation. The best answer you'll get is probably to just go and do your best or two stab me, which will mean you not only lose you're chance at the belt, it also means you're probably going to jail. If thats the case, I left you some Soap on a Rope in you're locker. Seth, you can't hurt me. I don't have a weakness you can exploit. What weaknesses you do find won't help you this weekend. As long as I'm not dead, you're going to have an uphill battle. You're just gonna have to do this the old fashioned way. Step in line and take a ride on the Smiledriver."
Freakke sat up straight and laced his fingers in front of him.
"Seth, also in your last promo, you said the two things you have to focus on in this industry are Yourself and Championships. Well, I understand what you think there. To focus on making yourself better, to become the best and making it so you can prove it. To be The Man so to say. One way is to hold a Championship and become a real Champion. Now, I've admitted what I did was wrong. I've even gone so far as to say I'm sorry. Where the problem lies, is that you think you're the one who deserves to have your ass kissed. I don't care how many times you failed to get a belt in four years. Whining isn't gonna help you get one...unless you count a toy replica. Hell, if you bitch and moan enough someone will buy you one...or have you committed. I'm sorry but you're sympathy is in another promotion."
Freakke shrugged again. He leaned forward and the camera zoomed in on the clown's face.
"Listen, Seth, I like you less and less with each word that comes from your mouth. Honestly, I don't care about whatever little issues you have with me. I don't care that your head is so far up your ass, that it would take the Jaws of Life, Superman, and God to ever help you smell the fresh air again. I don't even care that you have it all wrong about this industry and that the way you're going, you'll burn out before you ever get your title. The thing is, and all know that I've forgotten this from time to time, that we're here because of the fans. We get to do what we do because of them. You say that its Yourself and Championships, yet to get there, there have to be fans. What you want, and I see it now, is to be immortalized. Titles don't mean anything without the fans. We don't mean anything without the fans. It isn't just me saying this, you can't become a real Champion without the fans. If it weren't for them, you'd be flipping burgers somewhere, and I'd be juggling in a tent somewhere...I take that back...I'd still have fans...Accounting?"
Freakke pondered but shook it off a moment later. He sat back and smirked.
"Seth, even if you win, its hollow until you fight for something more than yourself. No one can last long on their own. An inanimate object isn't gonna cut it either. Speaking of..."
Freakke reached over the chair and held up the Magician's Box.
"I suppose now would be as good a time to open this as any."
He tapped his fingers on it once and smirked. Then, the Carnival King set it on the floor. He reached for the latch that held it closed and pulled the lid open. He reached his hand in and pulled out a few bits and pieces of junk, tossing them behind the chair callously. Then, his hands pulled up a belt. He brushed the plates once before turning it to the camera. The X Division Belt gleamed on a shiny black belt. He held it there for a moment and then set it down on his lap.
"Now, I doubt anyone didn't see that coming but still, you gotta go with the classics most of the time. Seth, this is what you want. This is the point of contention between us. You want it. Then you have to come get it. Tomorrow I said will tell a lot of things. I really don't know what will happen, but I do know this, win or lose, I will make this match one to remember. I will make you fight for your chance at holding this belt. I will do everything in my power, to bring the Reign of the Cretins. Above all, I'm going to do what I do best. I'm going to entertain the fans who come to see me put my boot up someone's ass!"
He stood up and grabbed the belt with one hand. He looked down at it and then he looked back to the camera. His hand slowly rose into the air and the X Division Belt began to shine. The camera faded away but the belt stayed high in the air.