Post by Xander Famularo on Aug 26, 2011 11:42:47 GMT -6
I know that life is supposed to imitate art, or that the events we live in are supposed to resemble a story, but that isn’t always the truth. Stories have very defined parts, an introduction, rising action, climax falling action and denouement. Jason, unfortunately for you and whatever thoughts you have of grandeur are going to be quelled very soon.
Our story has been placed together out of convenience, not out of actuality. We have no story, we have no beginning, no feud. We have been placed together because throughout the course of this title people have been given opportunities for it when there was no other place for it. I am looking to change it. I am looking to make it so that people desire this title.
No longer will people that have nothing else to do be vying for it.
Our story here Jason isn’t an incredible one because ultimately I am sure you would like for this to be some sort of start to an extended battle that will rage on for months, we could build this up and fight leaving each other beaten, bloodied and bruised. We could go on with intricate twists and developments, you could steal my girlfriend and I could battle for control of my own masculinity but you know what.
You aren’t worth the effort. You are nothing more then a first defense in many. I won’t get hung up on trying to tell a story, or making this memorable because I don’t think you are capable of anything more then getting your ass beat by a better wrestler. I am one of the alpha dogs around here and this title I wear on my waist represents the cutting edge of the future, it represents the person who has no limits who is willing to put his body on the line every time to make sure that he is the champion.
I defeated four men to gain the opportunity to challenge for this belt. I trained and fought and gave everything I had to win this title from a true warrior, Robert Verona. I worked and bled and poured sweat for this and you are walking into this match with no actual reason other then you have nothing else to do and there aren’t people lining up to fight against the most dominant next generation superstar there is in this game?
Do you understand what you are? Do you understand the role that you are playing in this match? Do you understand that you aren’t being typecast as some usurper that is going to blow over the champion starting his own reign of excellence.
You are playing the role of a sacrificial lamb, you are playing the role of a tired old person who doesn’t have anything useful left to give except a successful defense for the future of this company.
Your story Jason, there is no rising action, there is no climax, there is no denouement. Your story is short and sweet, it starts with an opportunity that is your introduction and it ends with a conclusion...
Do you know what that is?
Me dropping you on your neck, pinning you and sending you back where you belong. Toiling alongside the other never were’s because that is what you are Jason. You are a man that had great potential and never lived up to it, you are a man that had an opportunity but pilfered it away, you are a man who has no future here.
And I am going to be the man to show you, I am going to be the man to send you back to the bush leagues.
But you can look on the bright side, wrestling scrubs somewhere else at least you will have a chance to win some matches.
Your story ends here... Short and uneventful.
{Scene opens in the wilderness. It is night time and a group of people sit around a fire, these people include Gib, Xander, Zelda, Angelina, Adam and Kelly. Gib sits in a chair while all the others are on the ground facing him}
Adam: Is it really necessary for us to sit on the ground?
Gib: Hell yeah, this is how ghost stories are told. Someone has to be higher then the others because, ultimately that makes it scary...
Zelda: Honestly, the only thing I am scared of is seeing up your mesh shorts. Dad, why do you insist on wearing those...
Gib: Because they are camping shorts, come on.
Xander: And Dad, the whole tent thing what the hell. You have that giant camper sitting behind you, why are we sleeping in tents?
Gib: Because son, camping makes you tough.
Adam: Uhhh... I am pretty sure that isn’t true.
Gib: Oh, but I think you aren’t sure at all.
Kelly: Can we just stop the arguing so he can tell the story and we can invade the camper and get some sleep, I am being eaten alive by mosquitoes out here.
Xander: Yeah, tell the story.
{Gib takes a deep breath and starts to speak in a scary voice, well actually it isn’t scary it is kind of an attempt at an ominous mood but really it is mostly embarrassing.}
Gib: It was a long time ago, and there was this man. He had the basic moves of a wrestler but the problem was that he was obsessed with his body.
Zelda: Dad, we know who you are talking about.
Gib: Oh, so you have heard the scintillating tale of The Flexy One Eason Jevans?
Xander: Holy ****, this is going to be horrible.
Gib: Shut the **** up and listen.
{Gib takes a bottle and sprays a fluid on the fire which makes it double in size}
Gib: Now that the mood is set. He had potential to be a great superstar but he thought that being sufficiently attractive with steroid infused muscles that he would be able to take the world by storm, and for awhile he did really well, beating people who were really, really bad at wrestling. He worked his way to a title shot with the greatest wrestler the world ever saw.
Kelly: Wow, we are getting full of ourselves aren’t we.
{This ignites a chuckle from the group and a look of intent anger from the storyteller}
Gib: Well the great superstar overlooks his opponent and he was somehow defeated. This man, this Eason Jevans was a man that should never, never have received a win over the Great and Industrious Leader Gobford but he did, and for the rest of his life he leaned on that win saying things like “I may have lost 7,000 matches in a row but I beat Gobford once” and these men Godford and Eason met several times again, and all these times Gobford really put the hurting on this man, I mean he beat him within an inch of his life but every time this little pissant would tell the story of how he beat the king.
Adam: Oh, he never beat me.
Gib: **** you... Plus this is a story, the characters are purely fictional.
Zelda: Well how does the story end?
Gib: The story ends this weekend, when the spawn of Godford, Blander, will beat this man once and for all shutting his mouth and proving that even mine, or I mean Godbord’s semenal deposits are even more powerful then his... WEH, WEH, WEH!!!
{Suddenly from the lake a loud rumble of thunder is heard, Gib perks up and looks behind him as lightning strikes and a massive clap of thunder is heard.}
Gib: Ok, forget the tents we are sleeping in the RV...
{Everyone looks around puzzled and Adam smiles}
Adam: What’s a matter? Big bag Gibby scared of a weetle thunder and lightning...
Gib: Shut up, I just don’t know if the, uhhh, rain shields are on properly...
{Gib stands walking quickly to the RV as everyone else shares a chuckle the scene fades}
My Dad may not know much Jason, but he knows this business, and he has watched your career in the various places you have gone and ultimately he has watched your act unfold, you may try to change a little here and there but ultimately you regress to the only thing you know, flexing your pecs and talking about how sweet your body is.
Here is a clue, you aren’t that impressive, your pecs are getting flabby, your arms are getting undersized and you can’t hang with the next generation, the next generation that I lead, the next generation that I stand with. You have refused to learn anything or change anything and because of that you will be nothing.
The people spoke and put this match together, they spoke and made you my opponent but if you think it was because they were longing for a high impact close back and forth match you are sorely mistaken. They picked you because they thought it would be funny to watch a joke, to watch someone who has become nothing more then a punchline to come to the ring, so I can remove your head and add it to my mantle.
All the brightest stars claiming that this is their time, they all fell aside under my fist. Nathan Webb, Jonas Potter, Roberto Verona, Andrew Jacobsen, Seth Evans, all the best and brightest of my generation have tried to assail me and have failed.
But at least they had a chance.
You my friend, have no such chance. You insult me with your promos and it is an unintentional way. These fan letters you send yourself from women, I hope they make you feel good, I hope they help take the sting away from all the other failures but the fact is, we know they aren’t real. We know that you are trying to hold the one part of you that at some point was at least decent.
You want to take the title from me so that it is around the waist of someone better looking?
You are a bogan. You have no idea what being a champion was. The days that you could parade around with a title around your waist are over, they are in the past because there are too many good people around for your to excel, you are destined to wander alone in the vast wasteland that you, yourself have created.
You had a chance at greatness...
And you pilfered that away.
Now is my time, and you aren’t even a roadblock.
Our story has been placed together out of convenience, not out of actuality. We have no story, we have no beginning, no feud. We have been placed together because throughout the course of this title people have been given opportunities for it when there was no other place for it. I am looking to change it. I am looking to make it so that people desire this title.
No longer will people that have nothing else to do be vying for it.
Our story here Jason isn’t an incredible one because ultimately I am sure you would like for this to be some sort of start to an extended battle that will rage on for months, we could build this up and fight leaving each other beaten, bloodied and bruised. We could go on with intricate twists and developments, you could steal my girlfriend and I could battle for control of my own masculinity but you know what.
You aren’t worth the effort. You are nothing more then a first defense in many. I won’t get hung up on trying to tell a story, or making this memorable because I don’t think you are capable of anything more then getting your ass beat by a better wrestler. I am one of the alpha dogs around here and this title I wear on my waist represents the cutting edge of the future, it represents the person who has no limits who is willing to put his body on the line every time to make sure that he is the champion.
I defeated four men to gain the opportunity to challenge for this belt. I trained and fought and gave everything I had to win this title from a true warrior, Robert Verona. I worked and bled and poured sweat for this and you are walking into this match with no actual reason other then you have nothing else to do and there aren’t people lining up to fight against the most dominant next generation superstar there is in this game?
Do you understand what you are? Do you understand the role that you are playing in this match? Do you understand that you aren’t being typecast as some usurper that is going to blow over the champion starting his own reign of excellence.
You are playing the role of a sacrificial lamb, you are playing the role of a tired old person who doesn’t have anything useful left to give except a successful defense for the future of this company.
Your story Jason, there is no rising action, there is no climax, there is no denouement. Your story is short and sweet, it starts with an opportunity that is your introduction and it ends with a conclusion...
Do you know what that is?
Me dropping you on your neck, pinning you and sending you back where you belong. Toiling alongside the other never were’s because that is what you are Jason. You are a man that had great potential and never lived up to it, you are a man that had an opportunity but pilfered it away, you are a man who has no future here.
And I am going to be the man to show you, I am going to be the man to send you back to the bush leagues.
But you can look on the bright side, wrestling scrubs somewhere else at least you will have a chance to win some matches.
Your story ends here... Short and uneventful.
{Scene opens in the wilderness. It is night time and a group of people sit around a fire, these people include Gib, Xander, Zelda, Angelina, Adam and Kelly. Gib sits in a chair while all the others are on the ground facing him}
Adam: Is it really necessary for us to sit on the ground?
Gib: Hell yeah, this is how ghost stories are told. Someone has to be higher then the others because, ultimately that makes it scary...
Zelda: Honestly, the only thing I am scared of is seeing up your mesh shorts. Dad, why do you insist on wearing those...
Gib: Because they are camping shorts, come on.
Xander: And Dad, the whole tent thing what the hell. You have that giant camper sitting behind you, why are we sleeping in tents?
Gib: Because son, camping makes you tough.
Adam: Uhhh... I am pretty sure that isn’t true.
Gib: Oh, but I think you aren’t sure at all.
Kelly: Can we just stop the arguing so he can tell the story and we can invade the camper and get some sleep, I am being eaten alive by mosquitoes out here.
Xander: Yeah, tell the story.
{Gib takes a deep breath and starts to speak in a scary voice, well actually it isn’t scary it is kind of an attempt at an ominous mood but really it is mostly embarrassing.}
Gib: It was a long time ago, and there was this man. He had the basic moves of a wrestler but the problem was that he was obsessed with his body.
Zelda: Dad, we know who you are talking about.
Gib: Oh, so you have heard the scintillating tale of The Flexy One Eason Jevans?
Xander: Holy ****, this is going to be horrible.
Gib: Shut the **** up and listen.
{Gib takes a bottle and sprays a fluid on the fire which makes it double in size}
Gib: Now that the mood is set. He had potential to be a great superstar but he thought that being sufficiently attractive with steroid infused muscles that he would be able to take the world by storm, and for awhile he did really well, beating people who were really, really bad at wrestling. He worked his way to a title shot with the greatest wrestler the world ever saw.
Kelly: Wow, we are getting full of ourselves aren’t we.
{This ignites a chuckle from the group and a look of intent anger from the storyteller}
Gib: Well the great superstar overlooks his opponent and he was somehow defeated. This man, this Eason Jevans was a man that should never, never have received a win over the Great and Industrious Leader Gobford but he did, and for the rest of his life he leaned on that win saying things like “I may have lost 7,000 matches in a row but I beat Gobford once” and these men Godford and Eason met several times again, and all these times Gobford really put the hurting on this man, I mean he beat him within an inch of his life but every time this little pissant would tell the story of how he beat the king.
Adam: Oh, he never beat me.
Gib: **** you... Plus this is a story, the characters are purely fictional.
Zelda: Well how does the story end?
Gib: The story ends this weekend, when the spawn of Godford, Blander, will beat this man once and for all shutting his mouth and proving that even mine, or I mean Godbord’s semenal deposits are even more powerful then his... WEH, WEH, WEH!!!
{Suddenly from the lake a loud rumble of thunder is heard, Gib perks up and looks behind him as lightning strikes and a massive clap of thunder is heard.}
Gib: Ok, forget the tents we are sleeping in the RV...
{Everyone looks around puzzled and Adam smiles}
Adam: What’s a matter? Big bag Gibby scared of a weetle thunder and lightning...
Gib: Shut up, I just don’t know if the, uhhh, rain shields are on properly...
{Gib stands walking quickly to the RV as everyone else shares a chuckle the scene fades}
My Dad may not know much Jason, but he knows this business, and he has watched your career in the various places you have gone and ultimately he has watched your act unfold, you may try to change a little here and there but ultimately you regress to the only thing you know, flexing your pecs and talking about how sweet your body is.
Here is a clue, you aren’t that impressive, your pecs are getting flabby, your arms are getting undersized and you can’t hang with the next generation, the next generation that I lead, the next generation that I stand with. You have refused to learn anything or change anything and because of that you will be nothing.
The people spoke and put this match together, they spoke and made you my opponent but if you think it was because they were longing for a high impact close back and forth match you are sorely mistaken. They picked you because they thought it would be funny to watch a joke, to watch someone who has become nothing more then a punchline to come to the ring, so I can remove your head and add it to my mantle.
All the brightest stars claiming that this is their time, they all fell aside under my fist. Nathan Webb, Jonas Potter, Roberto Verona, Andrew Jacobsen, Seth Evans, all the best and brightest of my generation have tried to assail me and have failed.
But at least they had a chance.
You my friend, have no such chance. You insult me with your promos and it is an unintentional way. These fan letters you send yourself from women, I hope they make you feel good, I hope they help take the sting away from all the other failures but the fact is, we know they aren’t real. We know that you are trying to hold the one part of you that at some point was at least decent.
You want to take the title from me so that it is around the waist of someone better looking?
You are a bogan. You have no idea what being a champion was. The days that you could parade around with a title around your waist are over, they are in the past because there are too many good people around for your to excel, you are destined to wander alone in the vast wasteland that you, yourself have created.
You had a chance at greatness...
And you pilfered that away.
Now is my time, and you aren’t even a roadblock.