Post by Gib on Feb 1, 2013 12:21:11 GMT -6
My god did you see that last week? I beat two of the top stars in this company. This was supposed to be my last hurrah, my golden send off and instead I have started building some momentum, started building a streak, I have started doing what Famularo’s do best.
Beat the **** out of unsuspecting people.
This week though, it is out of the singles competition where I show two young punks what a little old school toughness is. I won’t lie, I have felt better, I have been in better shape and getting beaten with foreign objects isn’t as easy to recover from as it once was, but ultimately I am going to be fine and this weekend we are going to face off against Two Fine Urban Gentlemen, now for those of you that were born after the time that racism was commonplace then please close your ears because I want to tell the big boys and girls something.
Urban is another way to say colored folks…
See the two of you; you represent some of the very worse problems in our society. If Simon and I were to call ourselves Wealthy Suburban Gentlemen, that would be considered racist right? You know why? Because the world is full of pussies and losers, two things I can’t stand. Then you look at this AC Douglass nut job and his tagline, young, black and successful, if I were to say Gib, old, white and horny all of the sudden I am a bad guy.
I won’t lie; I may not think the same way that other people do. I may not say all the right things or even any of them but I wear my heart on my sleeve and I come from a time when if someone didn’t like something they would punch the other person in the face, not sue them and send them to counseling for several months. It is retarded, it is gay, it is all those words that the hot counselor I am talking to tells me I am not allowed to say.
And why can’t I say them? Because some pantywaist loser, panty waists like AC Douglas and Todd Williams are offended if I walk to the ring yelling White Pride, but they can proclaim how black and proud they are. It is ridiculous and this match is ridiculous. Here we are, the longest reigning tag champions of all time, two of the most successful superstars here and we are facing a team with one match to their credit.
One match gets them a title shot, and why boys and girls do you think that is?
No, it isn’t because they are black, that can’t be it at all. It is because they are superior athletes, because they are the number one contenders and became the contenders by beating a team that we thoroughly devastated last month and now probably isn’t a team anymore.
I mean, look at Douglas a couple weeks ago he proclaims that all people who work at Walmart are losers, dropouts, failures and morons. If Gib said that about a person of color you better watch out. You better hide your kids, hide your wife and hide your.
Oh wait, I can’t say that either? Well I know one thing I can say to you “Fine Ghetto Wanna Be HoodRats”
Do the Carleton, eat some mayonnaise and tell me what you want what you really really want.
Because I really, really, really want to zigga zig ahhh.
{Scene opens to the office of the Psychologist that Gib has been seeing, yes I still am referring to her as the psychologist because I am not good with character development and also because I haven’t thought of a cool name nor have I decided whether she will be a long term character or not, but I digress}
{She sits in her seat behind her overtly masculine desk with paperwork sprawled out before her. Gib walks in, his face bandaged where he was busted open last week. He wears a pair of workout pants tucked into his boots and a hooded sweatshirt that is ripped down the neck, something you would expect an 80’s Icon to wear to a counseling session}
Doc: Well, you certainly dressed for the occasion today.
Gib: What occasion? The occasion of you not listening to me and instead shouting out insane stupid mumbo jumbo about some bull**** repressed feelings. You don’t listen, you don’t pay attention. I mean, last week I wore my nicest clothes and you laughed at them.
Doc: Did that bother you?
Gib: What the hell do you think? I am not a nice person, I am rough around the edges and it is hard for me to do something nice. I tried hard and you mocked me. Mock me once shame on you, mock me twice go **** yourself. Let’s get this **** done with, I have to get some stitches removed and get to the gym.
Doc: Why do you have stitches?
Gib: Well, I am a professional wrestler and sometimes because as a human species we are sadists at heart people make these matches called hardcore matches where everything goes, well in this match a guy busted my head open.
Doc: Really?
Gib: Hey, I thought you were the best at your job? Aren’t you supposed to do some homework on your patients or are you just another nutcracker collecting a paycheck reading whatever was in the latest edition of Freud Weekly.
{For the first time the doctor is speechless, she has no comeback for his aggressive comments and her face redden slightly}
Doc: You are right, I am very sorry. I should take more of an interest. So, uhhh… How did your athletic competition turn out last week?
Gib: I won, I took those two punks, dropped them on their head and pinned them
Doc: Really? How does that even happen? No offense but you are fifty years old.
Gib: Because I come from a time when you don’t give up. There aren’t many people around anymore that are tough like that, that can take a punch and keep coming that can get knocked down and get back up. I have been doing this for a very long time, I have instilled this sense of toughness in my son and he is the best wrestler in the world today. I will never stop, I will never back down.
{She looks surprised}
Doc: I guess I owe you an apology. I assumed that you were just an old rude man who needed and attitude adjustment. I didn’t realize that you were trying to keep an ideology alive.
Gib: If you ask the right ****ing questions, you get the right ****ing answers. Otherwise, all of this psychobabble mumbo jumbo is worthless right. We know what we are but not what we may be after all right?
Doc: Wait a second… What is that from?
Gib: Do I have to give to an English lesson along with my lesson on ethics, it is Ophelia from Hamlet.
Doc: I never realized you were well read.
Gib: There are a lot of things you don’t understand, that is only the tip of the iceberg. Now if you will excuse me, I have to go have these stitches removed so I can maintain my beautiful face.
Doc: You know, I have a medical kit and could remove them for you.
Gib: Are you going to mangle my money maker?
Doc: No, and I think this will be good. I have been negligent and will start asking the right questions.
Gib: That’s fine, but if you scar me up, I swear I will sue the crap out of you.
{She laughs at this, and so does Gib as the scene fades.}
Now Todd, you know I don’t hate you. You are a friend, you have been at my house for Thanksgiving and gotten drunk in the woods while we were playing with live firearms, but that doesn’t change anything in this match and I won’t lie, lately you have done nothing but whine and act like a complete moron.
Maybe it is because you cut yourself too frequently whilst listening to My Chemical Romance, or maybe you are faced with the fact that you are a second rate wrestler who had the cards fall his way a few times but ultimately knows that he is nothing more then a second rate superstar trying to maintain a first rate lifestyle. And I have to say, you are showing some major disrespect coming after Simon and I, no doubt. You obviously think that you are the answer to the ever so alluding question “who can beat the champs.”
Haven’t we proven that we are more then a gimmick? Haven’t we proven that we are a cut above the other teams around here? Simon and I are meshed together, we are a team like no other because he and I, we have a special relationship.
A relationship forged in the bunk beds of Oswego, NY. A relationship forged by traveling together in compact cars and staying overnight in sketchy motels containing only a single bed and so many bacteria it would make a Petri dish jealous. People thought we were some fly by night tag team, an old man on his way out and a young man getting a rub from the past.
But so much more has happened Todd, I have proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am a true legend of this business. I have beaten Verona in a singles match; I have bested Alex Jones and Seth Evans in a hardcore match. I am the wheels that drive this business forward and wrestlers like Simon are the ones that keep it driving forward.
Simon and I are a team, two men united by something special, and what connects you two?
Oh yeah, THAT thing, the unmentionable one. And here you are, here you stand on the eve of a battle that you certainly aren’t ready for against the legendary tag team that holds the nCw record for the longest title reign in the companies history. For seven long months we have faced the best competition from all over the world, we have faced the greatest and the best and we have come up on top each and every time.
But you are the answer right? You are the two men who are going to stop what no one else could, after a single tag team match. Make fun of me all you want, talk about how much you have changed Todd or how you are a fast rising star Douglas but the fact of the matter is, you can say nothing to me I haven’t heard before, you can’t get under my skin, you can’t rattle me.
So you have to outwrestle me…
And that is laughable.
{Scene opens back up, Gib sits in the office, the bandage off his face. The unnamed psychologist clips one of the stitches with a scissor and pulls it out. Gib’s face remains unmoved, you can tell this isn’t the first time that he has been in this situation in his life. She turns to grab something off the table and she spills a cup of coffee on his shirt}
Doc: Oh, I am so sorry…
Gib: No problem… Let me just.
{He grabs the corners of his shirt and takes it off, his body scarred with memories of past battles, battles that have engrained themselves on his skin for eternity, memories that will never wash away with soap and water. His fifty year old body looks like it is made of solid granite, his muscle development still impressive.}
Doc: I take it this isn’t the first time you have had stitches.
Gib: No, each one tells a story, each one represents a foe who gained my respect a person who shaped what I became. These stories, they are some of the best memories of my life.
Doc: Why don’t we talk about those?
Gib: Because, time is over.
Doc: I think that this conversation could be overtime.
Gib: Can I ask you one question before the camera turns off, leaving the audience to wonder exactly what is going to happen between us? This is a question that is purely based to advance character development in my character.
Doc: Sure.
Gib: What is your first name.
Doc: My first name is Maeve.
{OMG!!! WE have a first name before sex, who would’ve thought that Gib could mature like this. I wonder if they will be like, so totally happy together. Will the counseling sessions forced by Roberto Verona will backfire turning into one of the greatest moments in Gib’s life? I don’t know. But either way, this **** was fun.}
Beat the **** out of unsuspecting people.
This week though, it is out of the singles competition where I show two young punks what a little old school toughness is. I won’t lie, I have felt better, I have been in better shape and getting beaten with foreign objects isn’t as easy to recover from as it once was, but ultimately I am going to be fine and this weekend we are going to face off against Two Fine Urban Gentlemen, now for those of you that were born after the time that racism was commonplace then please close your ears because I want to tell the big boys and girls something.
Urban is another way to say colored folks…
See the two of you; you represent some of the very worse problems in our society. If Simon and I were to call ourselves Wealthy Suburban Gentlemen, that would be considered racist right? You know why? Because the world is full of pussies and losers, two things I can’t stand. Then you look at this AC Douglass nut job and his tagline, young, black and successful, if I were to say Gib, old, white and horny all of the sudden I am a bad guy.
I won’t lie; I may not think the same way that other people do. I may not say all the right things or even any of them but I wear my heart on my sleeve and I come from a time when if someone didn’t like something they would punch the other person in the face, not sue them and send them to counseling for several months. It is retarded, it is gay, it is all those words that the hot counselor I am talking to tells me I am not allowed to say.
And why can’t I say them? Because some pantywaist loser, panty waists like AC Douglas and Todd Williams are offended if I walk to the ring yelling White Pride, but they can proclaim how black and proud they are. It is ridiculous and this match is ridiculous. Here we are, the longest reigning tag champions of all time, two of the most successful superstars here and we are facing a team with one match to their credit.
One match gets them a title shot, and why boys and girls do you think that is?
No, it isn’t because they are black, that can’t be it at all. It is because they are superior athletes, because they are the number one contenders and became the contenders by beating a team that we thoroughly devastated last month and now probably isn’t a team anymore.
I mean, look at Douglas a couple weeks ago he proclaims that all people who work at Walmart are losers, dropouts, failures and morons. If Gib said that about a person of color you better watch out. You better hide your kids, hide your wife and hide your.
Oh wait, I can’t say that either? Well I know one thing I can say to you “Fine Ghetto Wanna Be HoodRats”
Do the Carleton, eat some mayonnaise and tell me what you want what you really really want.
Because I really, really, really want to zigga zig ahhh.
{Scene opens to the office of the Psychologist that Gib has been seeing, yes I still am referring to her as the psychologist because I am not good with character development and also because I haven’t thought of a cool name nor have I decided whether she will be a long term character or not, but I digress}
{She sits in her seat behind her overtly masculine desk with paperwork sprawled out before her. Gib walks in, his face bandaged where he was busted open last week. He wears a pair of workout pants tucked into his boots and a hooded sweatshirt that is ripped down the neck, something you would expect an 80’s Icon to wear to a counseling session}
Doc: Well, you certainly dressed for the occasion today.
Gib: What occasion? The occasion of you not listening to me and instead shouting out insane stupid mumbo jumbo about some bull**** repressed feelings. You don’t listen, you don’t pay attention. I mean, last week I wore my nicest clothes and you laughed at them.
Doc: Did that bother you?
Gib: What the hell do you think? I am not a nice person, I am rough around the edges and it is hard for me to do something nice. I tried hard and you mocked me. Mock me once shame on you, mock me twice go **** yourself. Let’s get this **** done with, I have to get some stitches removed and get to the gym.
Doc: Why do you have stitches?
Gib: Well, I am a professional wrestler and sometimes because as a human species we are sadists at heart people make these matches called hardcore matches where everything goes, well in this match a guy busted my head open.
Doc: Really?
Gib: Hey, I thought you were the best at your job? Aren’t you supposed to do some homework on your patients or are you just another nutcracker collecting a paycheck reading whatever was in the latest edition of Freud Weekly.
{For the first time the doctor is speechless, she has no comeback for his aggressive comments and her face redden slightly}
Doc: You are right, I am very sorry. I should take more of an interest. So, uhhh… How did your athletic competition turn out last week?
Gib: I won, I took those two punks, dropped them on their head and pinned them
Doc: Really? How does that even happen? No offense but you are fifty years old.
Gib: Because I come from a time when you don’t give up. There aren’t many people around anymore that are tough like that, that can take a punch and keep coming that can get knocked down and get back up. I have been doing this for a very long time, I have instilled this sense of toughness in my son and he is the best wrestler in the world today. I will never stop, I will never back down.
{She looks surprised}
Doc: I guess I owe you an apology. I assumed that you were just an old rude man who needed and attitude adjustment. I didn’t realize that you were trying to keep an ideology alive.
Gib: If you ask the right ****ing questions, you get the right ****ing answers. Otherwise, all of this psychobabble mumbo jumbo is worthless right. We know what we are but not what we may be after all right?
Doc: Wait a second… What is that from?
Gib: Do I have to give to an English lesson along with my lesson on ethics, it is Ophelia from Hamlet.
Doc: I never realized you were well read.
Gib: There are a lot of things you don’t understand, that is only the tip of the iceberg. Now if you will excuse me, I have to go have these stitches removed so I can maintain my beautiful face.
Doc: You know, I have a medical kit and could remove them for you.
Gib: Are you going to mangle my money maker?
Doc: No, and I think this will be good. I have been negligent and will start asking the right questions.
Gib: That’s fine, but if you scar me up, I swear I will sue the crap out of you.
{She laughs at this, and so does Gib as the scene fades.}
Now Todd, you know I don’t hate you. You are a friend, you have been at my house for Thanksgiving and gotten drunk in the woods while we were playing with live firearms, but that doesn’t change anything in this match and I won’t lie, lately you have done nothing but whine and act like a complete moron.
Maybe it is because you cut yourself too frequently whilst listening to My Chemical Romance, or maybe you are faced with the fact that you are a second rate wrestler who had the cards fall his way a few times but ultimately knows that he is nothing more then a second rate superstar trying to maintain a first rate lifestyle. And I have to say, you are showing some major disrespect coming after Simon and I, no doubt. You obviously think that you are the answer to the ever so alluding question “who can beat the champs.”
Haven’t we proven that we are more then a gimmick? Haven’t we proven that we are a cut above the other teams around here? Simon and I are meshed together, we are a team like no other because he and I, we have a special relationship.
A relationship forged in the bunk beds of Oswego, NY. A relationship forged by traveling together in compact cars and staying overnight in sketchy motels containing only a single bed and so many bacteria it would make a Petri dish jealous. People thought we were some fly by night tag team, an old man on his way out and a young man getting a rub from the past.
But so much more has happened Todd, I have proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am a true legend of this business. I have beaten Verona in a singles match; I have bested Alex Jones and Seth Evans in a hardcore match. I am the wheels that drive this business forward and wrestlers like Simon are the ones that keep it driving forward.
Simon and I are a team, two men united by something special, and what connects you two?
Oh yeah, THAT thing, the unmentionable one. And here you are, here you stand on the eve of a battle that you certainly aren’t ready for against the legendary tag team that holds the nCw record for the longest title reign in the companies history. For seven long months we have faced the best competition from all over the world, we have faced the greatest and the best and we have come up on top each and every time.
But you are the answer right? You are the two men who are going to stop what no one else could, after a single tag team match. Make fun of me all you want, talk about how much you have changed Todd or how you are a fast rising star Douglas but the fact of the matter is, you can say nothing to me I haven’t heard before, you can’t get under my skin, you can’t rattle me.
So you have to outwrestle me…
And that is laughable.
{Scene opens back up, Gib sits in the office, the bandage off his face. The unnamed psychologist clips one of the stitches with a scissor and pulls it out. Gib’s face remains unmoved, you can tell this isn’t the first time that he has been in this situation in his life. She turns to grab something off the table and she spills a cup of coffee on his shirt}
Doc: Oh, I am so sorry…
Gib: No problem… Let me just.
{He grabs the corners of his shirt and takes it off, his body scarred with memories of past battles, battles that have engrained themselves on his skin for eternity, memories that will never wash away with soap and water. His fifty year old body looks like it is made of solid granite, his muscle development still impressive.}
Doc: I take it this isn’t the first time you have had stitches.
Gib: No, each one tells a story, each one represents a foe who gained my respect a person who shaped what I became. These stories, they are some of the best memories of my life.
Doc: Why don’t we talk about those?
Gib: Because, time is over.
Doc: I think that this conversation could be overtime.
Gib: Can I ask you one question before the camera turns off, leaving the audience to wonder exactly what is going to happen between us? This is a question that is purely based to advance character development in my character.
Doc: Sure.
Gib: What is your first name.
Doc: My first name is Maeve.
{OMG!!! WE have a first name before sex, who would’ve thought that Gib could mature like this. I wonder if they will be like, so totally happy together. Will the counseling sessions forced by Roberto Verona will backfire turning into one of the greatest moments in Gib’s life? I don’t know. But either way, this **** was fun.}