Post by Chuck Moss on Nov 26, 2010 9:40:05 GMT -6
The scene opens with Chuck setting up his new handheld camera. Now that Joel is gone he doesn’t have a cameraman so he’s setting the thing up on a tripod. It takes him a few minutes cause they don’t exactly teach you how to do that on the streets. As soon as it’s rolling Chuck immediately looks into the camera and business picks up. No time for chit chat.
Jason, I’m useless?! USELESS?! What makes me useless compared to you? The only reason you still have that title now is because of ME! ME! I saved you against Falcon cause he didn’t deserve it. After stealing my rematch he didn’t deserve the chance to take that title from you. That’s my goal, that’s what I want to do. That’s all I can think about. I want to be the guy to take the title from your cold dead fingers. I want to shut your mouth up once and for all. You run the damn thing without a course of action…it’s just a bunch of badly strung together cliché hobo insults. But take a look. A serious look. Seriously, how can you ignore everything I’ve done including saving your ass? It’s as if you choose to live in your own bubble for the sake of now shattering your state of reality.
Jason..you just, you’re a prick. A real asshole. Everything you say is wrong, and everything you do is cheap bull****. For instance, you ran your mouth earlier saying that you denied my title shot. How the hell did you exactly do that?! The match never even officially started. You didn’t beat me, you cheated to keep me from taking that title from you. From even getting a match. If anything this title shot is more deserved than your title ownership. If there was any justice in this world, and face it we know there isn’t, but if there was you’d be stripped of that ***damn belt and suspended. You stole it from Freakke, you stole it from me, and you stole it from Falcon. If it had been me vs Falcon that week he would have had his fair shot, but because of you and then his politicking I had to take action.
Face it chump, I deserved the first title match, and because of you I didn’t exactly get my fair shot did I? So you can say I weaseled my way into this match all you want, but everybody knows including yourself that that’s a load of bull**** if there ever was. The only thing you’re good at is finding creative ways to get out of defending your belt, making excuses, and creating a false reality for yourself. Look at your last few matches. You’re the weasel and the coward. Look at your promos. You’re the delusional one who doesn’t belong here. The fact that you STILL run your mouth is outstanding, especially when you berate me for being a hobo once upon a time. Instead of facing the reality that my life is much much much different than it was a month ago you still rail on that because it’s an easy thing to hide behind. It’s an easy way to get under my skin. You need that bullet point to mask your own ability to actually adapt with the situation, and face reality. Look at me, I went in to our match thinking of you as a loudmouth, and now I think of you as what you are: a spineless pussy. A cocky, douchebag, spineless pussy. At least you could update your insults towards me and look at the real picture. You could join me on planet earth.
But no Jason, you won’t do that. You’re too settled in going through the motions of your delusions to pay a little attention to what’s happening here. At the pay per view your bull**** isn’t going to fly, and I think when it finally hits you it’s going to be a mass panic. I’m guessing right before you walk out from behind that curtain reality is going to slap you in the face. Just look at it Jason if you want to have a chance: You can’t cheat your way out of this. You can’t run away from this fight, and you can’t sneak attack all of us. The fact is this: you have no backup plan this time. Jason Blair, that title is as good as gone because there is no escape from the situation you’ve painted yourself in to. After all the **** you put me through, Freakke through, and as much as I hate his guts..Falcon through, you’ve forced yourself into a corner through your stupidity . We’re all gunning to take you out first in this match, and it don’t matter who’s supposed to be your “tag team partner”, because when the title is up for grabs there are no lines in the sand like that to safeguard you.
So answer me this: now that you’re trapped in the lions den with no way out, do you really think you have a chance? I spent the last couple of days in a jail cell for what I did to my old friend so I’m ready to get back in. How about you? What have you been doing but running your mouth? Beyond that do you think on a base level that you have the strength or the tenacity to survive this? Or the testicular fortitude? Don’t answer it out loud because you know the answer. Just as you say a rose by any other name..well same to you. If I’ll always be a hobo then you’ll always be a spineless pussy bitch. Now you’ve got nowhere to go, nowhere to run, so I think my skills of surviving on gang infested streets are going to fare much better against your Nike running shoes.
Chuck wipes the sweat he’s worked up from his brow. He's in a very intense mood likely pretty nervous as much as he is fired up.
Now on to you Falcon…what’s your angle? You heard me last week; the whole world did. How is this nothing personal? Are you trying to downplay what I said about you and what I did to you to keep our “partnership” in this match safe, or are you Mr. Magoo walking off the building here? I really don’t get it. I said some things about you last week that I wanted to punch myself in the face for, but yet my words are just falling to your feet? It means nothing huh?!
He grabs a vase and crashes it against the wall, and kicks over a wooden chair into his coffe table. He walks closer to the camera very intently as if he's holding back some anger.
Well listen. You want to be my partner in this match and watch my back? I’ll give you the same courtesy, because that’s how it was on the street. Also unlike Blair I can read the writing on the wall; I’m not stupid. It’s beneficial to my chances of winning to help you out as my “tag partner”, but I’m not going to stand here and play nice with you and soften my words. I’m not going play your game of smarmy back and forth. What you said about me was easily the most backhanded tender way possible of downplaying my skills, and I find it more insulting than if you would have just been abrasive. No, what you did here was some passive aggressive attempt to get under my skin, and a dull attempt at looking cool.
You need to check yourself too! Look at the situation in front of you: I cost you the title, Falcon! You had it won! I destroyed your chances at that belt! And what do you have to say for it? What? Nothing. Nothing at all really. You have no passion whatsoever. Your words come out like dull little antidotes only being said to meet a quota. Don’t you see?! I’m RIGHT HERE!! FIGHT BACK!
Chuck picks up a solid marble statue and throws it through the sliding door into his kitchen. Glass and stuff fly everywhere but he really doesn't give a **** at this point.
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What is it going to take to light a fire under you?! Nobody in nCw seems to REALLY care about this like I do. Jason Blair goes back to the well with his dated reused hobo insults, Falcon you can’t even raise your voice beyond Ben Stein, and Freakke just let Blair walk all over him and take his title. He never did anything about being robbed, but I didn’t even have the title and I pushed myself into the mix. I DID do something about all of it, and unfortunately it meant having to drag everyone else into the pay per view match. If anything I’m carrying the passion for all four of us into this hell!
Just look at me! I’m screaming and smashing things in my house, my friends are gone, I’m ****ing alone here in my mansion and I’m STILL being called a hobo, barely getting a shot at the title in some garbage tag team match, and yet I’m the only guy who seems to give a **** where this is all heading! Why is that?! This is my title match, you guys know this, but instead of stepping up you just tag along hoping to get a fluke win. What happened to the fight in all of you guys? I gave up EVERYTHING for the chance you stole from me Jason Blair, and now EVERYTHING I’ve worked for has come down to this match. Maybe it takes living on the street for twenty years to see how important this all is? The moments of this match will live forever as this is a defining moment in nCw history. This a big match, for me especially. I have so much to prove and if I lose I might as well be back on the street…and that’s why this is my match. You guys don’t care this is just a midcard belt to you. To me this is the world and I want to be ****ing Atlas with it stacked on my shoulders…
So you can bet on me, against me, or double me down. None of that **** matters anymore at this moment. The only thing that matters is that I win, and there ain’t any amount of betting that's going to stop me.
Chuck walks out of camera view. He can be heard breathing heavy and some police sirens can also be faintly heard off in the distance. In this neighborhood you can't just bust stuff and make noise like that without getting some police called. Chuck flicks the camera off.
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Jason, I’m useless?! USELESS?! What makes me useless compared to you? The only reason you still have that title now is because of ME! ME! I saved you against Falcon cause he didn’t deserve it. After stealing my rematch he didn’t deserve the chance to take that title from you. That’s my goal, that’s what I want to do. That’s all I can think about. I want to be the guy to take the title from your cold dead fingers. I want to shut your mouth up once and for all. You run the damn thing without a course of action…it’s just a bunch of badly strung together cliché hobo insults. But take a look. A serious look. Seriously, how can you ignore everything I’ve done including saving your ass? It’s as if you choose to live in your own bubble for the sake of now shattering your state of reality.
Jason..you just, you’re a prick. A real asshole. Everything you say is wrong, and everything you do is cheap bull****. For instance, you ran your mouth earlier saying that you denied my title shot. How the hell did you exactly do that?! The match never even officially started. You didn’t beat me, you cheated to keep me from taking that title from you. From even getting a match. If anything this title shot is more deserved than your title ownership. If there was any justice in this world, and face it we know there isn’t, but if there was you’d be stripped of that ***damn belt and suspended. You stole it from Freakke, you stole it from me, and you stole it from Falcon. If it had been me vs Falcon that week he would have had his fair shot, but because of you and then his politicking I had to take action.
Face it chump, I deserved the first title match, and because of you I didn’t exactly get my fair shot did I? So you can say I weaseled my way into this match all you want, but everybody knows including yourself that that’s a load of bull**** if there ever was. The only thing you’re good at is finding creative ways to get out of defending your belt, making excuses, and creating a false reality for yourself. Look at your last few matches. You’re the weasel and the coward. Look at your promos. You’re the delusional one who doesn’t belong here. The fact that you STILL run your mouth is outstanding, especially when you berate me for being a hobo once upon a time. Instead of facing the reality that my life is much much much different than it was a month ago you still rail on that because it’s an easy thing to hide behind. It’s an easy way to get under my skin. You need that bullet point to mask your own ability to actually adapt with the situation, and face reality. Look at me, I went in to our match thinking of you as a loudmouth, and now I think of you as what you are: a spineless pussy. A cocky, douchebag, spineless pussy. At least you could update your insults towards me and look at the real picture. You could join me on planet earth.
But no Jason, you won’t do that. You’re too settled in going through the motions of your delusions to pay a little attention to what’s happening here. At the pay per view your bull**** isn’t going to fly, and I think when it finally hits you it’s going to be a mass panic. I’m guessing right before you walk out from behind that curtain reality is going to slap you in the face. Just look at it Jason if you want to have a chance: You can’t cheat your way out of this. You can’t run away from this fight, and you can’t sneak attack all of us. The fact is this: you have no backup plan this time. Jason Blair, that title is as good as gone because there is no escape from the situation you’ve painted yourself in to. After all the **** you put me through, Freakke through, and as much as I hate his guts..Falcon through, you’ve forced yourself into a corner through your stupidity . We’re all gunning to take you out first in this match, and it don’t matter who’s supposed to be your “tag team partner”, because when the title is up for grabs there are no lines in the sand like that to safeguard you.
So answer me this: now that you’re trapped in the lions den with no way out, do you really think you have a chance? I spent the last couple of days in a jail cell for what I did to my old friend so I’m ready to get back in. How about you? What have you been doing but running your mouth? Beyond that do you think on a base level that you have the strength or the tenacity to survive this? Or the testicular fortitude? Don’t answer it out loud because you know the answer. Just as you say a rose by any other name..well same to you. If I’ll always be a hobo then you’ll always be a spineless pussy bitch. Now you’ve got nowhere to go, nowhere to run, so I think my skills of surviving on gang infested streets are going to fare much better against your Nike running shoes.
Chuck wipes the sweat he’s worked up from his brow. He's in a very intense mood likely pretty nervous as much as he is fired up.
Now on to you Falcon…what’s your angle? You heard me last week; the whole world did. How is this nothing personal? Are you trying to downplay what I said about you and what I did to you to keep our “partnership” in this match safe, or are you Mr. Magoo walking off the building here? I really don’t get it. I said some things about you last week that I wanted to punch myself in the face for, but yet my words are just falling to your feet? It means nothing huh?!
He grabs a vase and crashes it against the wall, and kicks over a wooden chair into his coffe table. He walks closer to the camera very intently as if he's holding back some anger.
Well listen. You want to be my partner in this match and watch my back? I’ll give you the same courtesy, because that’s how it was on the street. Also unlike Blair I can read the writing on the wall; I’m not stupid. It’s beneficial to my chances of winning to help you out as my “tag partner”, but I’m not going to stand here and play nice with you and soften my words. I’m not going play your game of smarmy back and forth. What you said about me was easily the most backhanded tender way possible of downplaying my skills, and I find it more insulting than if you would have just been abrasive. No, what you did here was some passive aggressive attempt to get under my skin, and a dull attempt at looking cool.
You need to check yourself too! Look at the situation in front of you: I cost you the title, Falcon! You had it won! I destroyed your chances at that belt! And what do you have to say for it? What? Nothing. Nothing at all really. You have no passion whatsoever. Your words come out like dull little antidotes only being said to meet a quota. Don’t you see?! I’m RIGHT HERE!! FIGHT BACK!
Chuck picks up a solid marble statue and throws it through the sliding door into his kitchen. Glass and stuff fly everywhere but he really doesn't give a **** at this point.
[/i]
What is it going to take to light a fire under you?! Nobody in nCw seems to REALLY care about this like I do. Jason Blair goes back to the well with his dated reused hobo insults, Falcon you can’t even raise your voice beyond Ben Stein, and Freakke just let Blair walk all over him and take his title. He never did anything about being robbed, but I didn’t even have the title and I pushed myself into the mix. I DID do something about all of it, and unfortunately it meant having to drag everyone else into the pay per view match. If anything I’m carrying the passion for all four of us into this hell!
Just look at me! I’m screaming and smashing things in my house, my friends are gone, I’m ****ing alone here in my mansion and I’m STILL being called a hobo, barely getting a shot at the title in some garbage tag team match, and yet I’m the only guy who seems to give a **** where this is all heading! Why is that?! This is my title match, you guys know this, but instead of stepping up you just tag along hoping to get a fluke win. What happened to the fight in all of you guys? I gave up EVERYTHING for the chance you stole from me Jason Blair, and now EVERYTHING I’ve worked for has come down to this match. Maybe it takes living on the street for twenty years to see how important this all is? The moments of this match will live forever as this is a defining moment in nCw history. This a big match, for me especially. I have so much to prove and if I lose I might as well be back on the street…and that’s why this is my match. You guys don’t care this is just a midcard belt to you. To me this is the world and I want to be ****ing Atlas with it stacked on my shoulders…
So you can bet on me, against me, or double me down. None of that **** matters anymore at this moment. The only thing that matters is that I win, and there ain’t any amount of betting that's going to stop me.
Chuck walks out of camera view. He can be heard breathing heavy and some police sirens can also be faintly heard off in the distance. In this neighborhood you can't just bust stuff and make noise like that without getting some police called. Chuck flicks the camera off.
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