Post by Falcon on Apr 3, 2008 8:40:04 GMT -6
"Success is measured in this business by the gold. It would be foolish to pretend otherwise. I may not like it, but it's just something that is what it is. I've tried to make it pretty clear that my only desire is to compete and entertain, but there are so few now that appreciate it. So, that leaves me with winning a title, or getting left behind. I'll be honest and say that it is nice to see my hard work pay off from time to time, but I'm not so naive to let having a fancy belt give me delusions about how hard I need to work. I give everything I have, night in, night out.. in the ring, at the autograph signing, backstage, at the photo shoots, the fan meets, the press conferences.. anywhere. You see me on the street, I don't ignore you. I'm not one of those prima donna guys who charged a hundred bucks for an autograph on a napkin. Honestly, it's not my fault either. It's just the way I am.. the way I was raised. Be polite, be respectful to everyone you meet, because you never know who you'll end up spending time with. That same guy you shunned on the street could be the booker for your next show, and all of a sudden you perform your ass off and because you pissed him off, he doesn't pay up. These are just things that can happen. It doesn't matter if it's not likely, you simply have to plan for it as if it were, because the one time you don't just might be the one time it actually does. I shouldn't be telling you anything you don't already know. I wish I could sit here and say everything is all a'ok in this business. All rainbows and sunshine, but it's not. You sacrifice a lot to be in the business.. twice as much to get to the top.. three times as much to stay there. Makes you wonder why all these kids hold on to these dreams for so long when they finally realize what the real deal is. For everyone one who has the heart to put up with this crap, there's a million out there watching us on t.v. with the stars firmly planted in their eyes. It doesn't take much.. or all that long.. before you see the stars shatter under the cruelest mistress of all... Reality..."
(After that long annoying diatribe from god knows how many years ago we finally return to 2008 and the real part of this promo. We open outside a decent enough house in some rural section of some city, I'm not sure where. Judging by the fact that this is a Falcon promo it's probably f'ing Boston. I swear.. what the hell is with this city? Bah, nevermind. We move inside. The house is well furnished, but not overly lavish. Looks like someone is spending his money on other crap if you know what I mean. I mean a 46" t.v.? That's so 1995. Anyway, the self proclaimed Messiah of Emo is standing by the fireplace. He's staring at a picture above a PWW World Cruiserweight title replica. The photo is of Falcon and Mr. Showtime backstage at a show with an adoring fan and contest winner.)
Falcon: Answer me this.. is it me? Or does Prophet seems to need more help as the days go by? I mean, I used to think he was just putting on a show, supporting the gimmick and all that, but after what I just saw, I think the man is seriously losing it. Or I could be completely wrong. I mean, your average person is not going to broadcast his dreams live in technicolor for the entire world to see on a whim unless he's either just trying to show off, or is really not even close to being in control. So what is it Prophet? If you are losing your mind I don't very well want to be the one to call you out on it. But if you're just playing it up for the camera like a drama queen then you deserve for the world to know exactly the kind of fraud you are. You spend plenty of time talking about yourself, so the arrow right now points at drama queen. I mean, you refuse to acknowledge the fact that I exist, that I'm going to be in the ring this Sunday. Despite the fact that I mocked, if only halfway, the very thing you do. The very thing I was just speaking about. I don't like to point fingers or make accusations, but you're not giving me much choice. You can't possibly be afraid of me, because that wouldn't be you. Besides, you've already been in the ring with supposedly more intimidating people, since you're so desperate to have Spike Kanes head handed to you. I can't for the life of me picture you cowering at the mention of my name. You can't possibly be worried about me either. Somewhere who bears the moniker of the Real god of extreme can't possibly look at this match on paper and have any doubt that you won't walk out with the title. Or maybe.. you are. You walked in here on your high horse, all gung-ho after the World Champ. Then decided when you couldn't have that you decided the next best thing would be to chase Sexy Jason, but then, there was something you didn't count on. Some knucklehead in blue facepaint got himself all tossed up into this mix. And you felt a little less stellar. JFK proved you weren't invincible by beating you in that ring. Interference, no interference it's irrelevant. You allowed it to defeat you. You gave up fighting, and found yourself on the wrong end of the decision. Don't like what I'm saying? Then bother to come out and tell me where I'm wrong. Get your head out of your own ass long enough to do that.
(He sighs, turning away from old memories to sit down in a plush armchair. He gazes up at the ceiling for a long minute, then rolls his neck around on his shoulders and looks at the camera.)
Falcon: If Dark Prophet needs a refill on his Prozac, Sexy Jason might need a refill on his Ridillin prescription. That man is wayyy too exciting about all the wrong things. Of course, being wrong is nothing new for him. I'd like at this time to remind you that you're only the Xtreme Champion still because you haven't defended it yet. You act like you've walked through the fires of challenge and come out clean. You haven't yet, this is, in fact, going to be the first time you've done so since you took that title from Vertigo "I don't know who I am anymore" Dirtmurder. I want you to think back to then, and remember everything that followed. From my personal point of view, I've been up close and personal for three of the matches that followed. The first six man tag we teamed with Spike Kane. That match ended in no contest because good old Spike decided he had to break Vertigo in half. Not exactly a trial by fire in itself if you get my meaning. The second we teamed again, this time with none other than Dark Prophet. You know how that match ended. I got up from the floor and all of a sudden the bell was ringing and you were flat on your back. You should start to see a trend at this point. The third was two weeks ago when you, I and John Anthony had a little triple threat encounter. Where were you again? Laid out while I pinned John Anthony. Last week, you fought your old mentor, you know.. the guy who banged your girlfriend, I can't honestly say how that ended because by that point I had lost a little faith in you. So, please, let's put away the survival metaphors, because as far as surviving goes, that's about all you've done. And you've only done that because it's been illegal and immoral to actually kill you. I mean, hell, everyone has survived the last couple weeks, because lets face it. Aside from a freak accident, there's very little in the world of wrestling that can actually kill you.
(Blah blah blah.. doesn't this guy ever give up? Oh, here he goes again.. Snore..)
Falcon: We're not kids Jason.. We all remember Oaklahoma. Had you said "Remember the Alamo" or something, that I would have questioned. Every day you should remember those who have died needlessly, whether you knew them or not. But I guess you're just one of those people who are only holy and pious when the mood suits you. That's fine, if you can stand living that way. But, alas, you go on. Spitting out your mouth whatever runs through that pea brain of yours. Leonard doesn't think I need help to beat you, what you fail to see is that I put him in an uncomfortable position. Prophet has his title shot already, I MADE the fans demand he give me mine. Hence why this match is here. If he wasn't forced to acknowledge the things I've done in that ring, you'd just be facing Prophet. But I'm here, because I've proven to people a lot more important to you that I deserve to be here. I'm getting the shot I deserve, in the match I specialize in, at a major PPV event. You telling me that I haven't proven myself, is a mere pathetic attempt by your own half hearted beliefs in yourself to assure you that you have nothing to worry about. Well, you might as well throw that idea out the window, because the more you say it, the more you'll believe it, and then it's all downhill from there. You want me in a cage? Fine. No matter who walks out of A Night to Remember as the champion, I'll sign to fight you in a cage all by your lonesome Jason. Hell, as a bonus, should I be Xtreme champion I'll give you the rematch clause. Doesn't matter if it's the next week on Collision or a month later at the next PPV. That's the kind of things I do, in case you haven't been paying attention, which it appears to me that you haven't since you keep insinuating that I'm going to help Prophet. Despite all that, I'm looking forward to facing the two of you. Cheers..
(Snore.... huh? what!? Is he done? I thought he was never going to end. Tell me he at least said something important? Bah, probably not. Anyway, Fade out..)
(After that long annoying diatribe from god knows how many years ago we finally return to 2008 and the real part of this promo. We open outside a decent enough house in some rural section of some city, I'm not sure where. Judging by the fact that this is a Falcon promo it's probably f'ing Boston. I swear.. what the hell is with this city? Bah, nevermind. We move inside. The house is well furnished, but not overly lavish. Looks like someone is spending his money on other crap if you know what I mean. I mean a 46" t.v.? That's so 1995. Anyway, the self proclaimed Messiah of Emo is standing by the fireplace. He's staring at a picture above a PWW World Cruiserweight title replica. The photo is of Falcon and Mr. Showtime backstage at a show with an adoring fan and contest winner.)
Falcon: Answer me this.. is it me? Or does Prophet seems to need more help as the days go by? I mean, I used to think he was just putting on a show, supporting the gimmick and all that, but after what I just saw, I think the man is seriously losing it. Or I could be completely wrong. I mean, your average person is not going to broadcast his dreams live in technicolor for the entire world to see on a whim unless he's either just trying to show off, or is really not even close to being in control. So what is it Prophet? If you are losing your mind I don't very well want to be the one to call you out on it. But if you're just playing it up for the camera like a drama queen then you deserve for the world to know exactly the kind of fraud you are. You spend plenty of time talking about yourself, so the arrow right now points at drama queen. I mean, you refuse to acknowledge the fact that I exist, that I'm going to be in the ring this Sunday. Despite the fact that I mocked, if only halfway, the very thing you do. The very thing I was just speaking about. I don't like to point fingers or make accusations, but you're not giving me much choice. You can't possibly be afraid of me, because that wouldn't be you. Besides, you've already been in the ring with supposedly more intimidating people, since you're so desperate to have Spike Kanes head handed to you. I can't for the life of me picture you cowering at the mention of my name. You can't possibly be worried about me either. Somewhere who bears the moniker of the Real god of extreme can't possibly look at this match on paper and have any doubt that you won't walk out with the title. Or maybe.. you are. You walked in here on your high horse, all gung-ho after the World Champ. Then decided when you couldn't have that you decided the next best thing would be to chase Sexy Jason, but then, there was something you didn't count on. Some knucklehead in blue facepaint got himself all tossed up into this mix. And you felt a little less stellar. JFK proved you weren't invincible by beating you in that ring. Interference, no interference it's irrelevant. You allowed it to defeat you. You gave up fighting, and found yourself on the wrong end of the decision. Don't like what I'm saying? Then bother to come out and tell me where I'm wrong. Get your head out of your own ass long enough to do that.
(He sighs, turning away from old memories to sit down in a plush armchair. He gazes up at the ceiling for a long minute, then rolls his neck around on his shoulders and looks at the camera.)
Falcon: If Dark Prophet needs a refill on his Prozac, Sexy Jason might need a refill on his Ridillin prescription. That man is wayyy too exciting about all the wrong things. Of course, being wrong is nothing new for him. I'd like at this time to remind you that you're only the Xtreme Champion still because you haven't defended it yet. You act like you've walked through the fires of challenge and come out clean. You haven't yet, this is, in fact, going to be the first time you've done so since you took that title from Vertigo "I don't know who I am anymore" Dirtmurder. I want you to think back to then, and remember everything that followed. From my personal point of view, I've been up close and personal for three of the matches that followed. The first six man tag we teamed with Spike Kane. That match ended in no contest because good old Spike decided he had to break Vertigo in half. Not exactly a trial by fire in itself if you get my meaning. The second we teamed again, this time with none other than Dark Prophet. You know how that match ended. I got up from the floor and all of a sudden the bell was ringing and you were flat on your back. You should start to see a trend at this point. The third was two weeks ago when you, I and John Anthony had a little triple threat encounter. Where were you again? Laid out while I pinned John Anthony. Last week, you fought your old mentor, you know.. the guy who banged your girlfriend, I can't honestly say how that ended because by that point I had lost a little faith in you. So, please, let's put away the survival metaphors, because as far as surviving goes, that's about all you've done. And you've only done that because it's been illegal and immoral to actually kill you. I mean, hell, everyone has survived the last couple weeks, because lets face it. Aside from a freak accident, there's very little in the world of wrestling that can actually kill you.
(Blah blah blah.. doesn't this guy ever give up? Oh, here he goes again.. Snore..)
Falcon: We're not kids Jason.. We all remember Oaklahoma. Had you said "Remember the Alamo" or something, that I would have questioned. Every day you should remember those who have died needlessly, whether you knew them or not. But I guess you're just one of those people who are only holy and pious when the mood suits you. That's fine, if you can stand living that way. But, alas, you go on. Spitting out your mouth whatever runs through that pea brain of yours. Leonard doesn't think I need help to beat you, what you fail to see is that I put him in an uncomfortable position. Prophet has his title shot already, I MADE the fans demand he give me mine. Hence why this match is here. If he wasn't forced to acknowledge the things I've done in that ring, you'd just be facing Prophet. But I'm here, because I've proven to people a lot more important to you that I deserve to be here. I'm getting the shot I deserve, in the match I specialize in, at a major PPV event. You telling me that I haven't proven myself, is a mere pathetic attempt by your own half hearted beliefs in yourself to assure you that you have nothing to worry about. Well, you might as well throw that idea out the window, because the more you say it, the more you'll believe it, and then it's all downhill from there. You want me in a cage? Fine. No matter who walks out of A Night to Remember as the champion, I'll sign to fight you in a cage all by your lonesome Jason. Hell, as a bonus, should I be Xtreme champion I'll give you the rematch clause. Doesn't matter if it's the next week on Collision or a month later at the next PPV. That's the kind of things I do, in case you haven't been paying attention, which it appears to me that you haven't since you keep insinuating that I'm going to help Prophet. Despite all that, I'm looking forward to facing the two of you. Cheers..
(Snore.... huh? what!? Is he done? I thought he was never going to end. Tell me he at least said something important? Bah, probably not. Anyway, Fade out..)