Post by jamieryan on Jan 26, 2008 4:57:09 GMT -6
-The scene opens and we see Jamie and Cassandra seated in a movie theater. Hauntingly similar to the beginnings of a promo that Lance cut with Cassandra at his side only mere months ago. Jamie and Cassandra are sitting in the second row of the theater. Jamie is sitting with his feet up on the seats in front of him, like an arrogant teenager. He is chomping away on popcorn and letting random pieces fall everywhere. Cassandra is sitting without food and looking at Jamie with a smirk on her face. It is clear that she finds his manners, or lack there-of, attractive and cute in some way. The two are very clearly watching some sort of movie, the camera focuses in and we actually see that they are watching the interview that Vertigo cut mere hours ago. As the camera focuses in, we see that we are at the end of the interview.
Vertigo Dirtmurder: Vertigo: It’s all over for you Jamie. If you were smart you'd leave town with your tail between your legs and your slut on her back before tonight…or make no mistake... you will regret it, and that’s not a threat... that’s the ultraviolent gospel!
-The camera scrambles as Vertigo drives his fist into the camera. Jamie slams his feet down and gets up. He arrogantly throws some popcorn at the screen as the lights come up. –
Jamie: WHAT? That was the ending? There was no plot! It made no sense! What a terrible movie! The lead actor was ugly, he thinks he is the devil, and he just rambled on incoherently making threats at his enemy. I didn’t find him to be believable or interesting at all. I mean, the cutting himself thing? Since when do silly teen-aged emo ****s get leading roles? This kid is nothing more than comic relief, he should be on suicide watch, not some flick at the corner theater.
-Jamie looks over at Cassandra who looks sideways at him.-
Cassandra: Babe. You do realize that that wasn’t a movie right? That was the last promo from Vertigo.
~That’s right Cassy…keep believing that I am just a naïve little child. You are falling for me hook line and sinker baby.~
Jamie: Huh? What? That was my opponent? That was Vertigo again? Wow…
Cassandra: Come now, he has just gone over the deep end. If he continues along this horrible decline that he is on, I am actually more than slightly worried about you babe. If he is crazy, he may just kill you in that match.
Jamie: Baby, come on. You are worried for my safety, and all that I can keep thinking to myself is “this is what I get after graduating from the minor leagues?”
Cass, baby. Look at this guy, I mean ****, I wish that this was a first blood match, I’d just scratch off one of his scabs. There are two kinds of wrestlers in hardcore divisions. There are those that THINK that they are hardcore. They are the people that believe that they make themselves look uber-tough, or uber-hardcore, or ultra-violent by cutting themselves, beating up women, and hitting people with trash cans. Then, there are the wrestlers that really are hardcore. They do the spots for the chants, for the fans, and they have a quiet dignity about themselves outside of the ring. Vertigo is one of those types, and I am the other. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out which one of us is which.
Cassandra: But hun, honestly, tell me, is there not a part of you that wonders, that worries about what you are getting into with this hardcore match?
Jamie: None. I have waited my entire life for this chance, a shot at the big leagues. A chance to make a spectacle of myself in front of a huge crowd, and millions of people watching on pay per view. This is my first time on a grand stage, and trust me when I say that this will be my time to make a spectacle. This will be my time to stand up, pull off an amazing move, and etch the name Jamie Ryan in the name of fans around the world.
Another thing that you seem to keep mentioning Jamie, is that whole deal about me only being a last name. Allow me to ask you something Vertigo, what are you? Also, as for my name, dear friend, it I simply that, I am not my father, nor will I ever attempt to be my father. We are two entirely different entities, two beings, two polar opposites. You see, my father respected you, he tried to take you under his wing, he tried to create Insurrection Inc. , but I question that. Who is Vertigo? What have you done lately, in fact…what have you done ever?
-Jamie motions to Cassandra that he will be back in a moment. He begins walking up the stairs in the theatre. The camera position changes to show Jamie walking up. We realize that the theater is actually one of a grandiose nature. It has an annex, and a balcony. Jamie continues to climb the stairs. He is jogging now.-
~It is not my typical nature to brag, to show-boat, or to tout what I have done in the past, however, it seems that here, in this company or at least with this opponent I must do so. To garner some sort of credibility, some kind of recognition from this worm that I must face on Sunday. Perhaps my points are better served through images and actions rather than words with this lower form of life. Perhaps words are too much for him, so be it, I will sink to his level.~
-Jamie gets to a side wall, he jumps up and grabs onto the railing of the annex and pulls himself up to the next level. He stands upon the base that hangs out and looks down. Perhaps ten feet above the first level now.-
Jamie: Vertigo, it was a small arena in Sacramento that I made my first ten foot leap. I was up there, quite high up on a ladder. The fans around me were chanting my name, and begging for me to plummet down upon my helpless opponent below. You see, I had laid him prone on a table. It was then that I decided, in that fleeting moment that I would become a spot monkey. I took flight, my frame flying through the air with ease, using the move that my father perfected, and I crashed through that table, breaking my fall with only the comfort of the other body beneath me. Vertigo, ten feet to me now is nothing, however, if the chance provides itself, I will send your ass through a table from that height.
~Oh the feeling, I miss the feeling of crushing bones beneath me as I destroy a human being’s bone structure. The sound of his groans as his insides turn to mush from the speed garnered through that free fall.~
-Jamie again climbs the stairs. This time he exits through a door at the top of the annex, and we lose sight of him. We hear a door slam open overhead however, and the image of Jamie Ryan can be seen standing twenty-five feet up now on the base of the balcony.-
Jamie: Now this, this is a little more in my district. Twenty-five feet. Los Angeles, a little over three months ago. I was in the midst of a triangle match for the So Cal Hardcore Championship. Earlier in the match, I had been left for dead after taking a spot at ringside. The other two combatants battles into the crowd, and were nearly drained. The fans grew abuzz however as both men were getting to their feet in amongst the crowd. The spotlights found me just before I majestically took flight. I landed atop both men, one of them wasn’t very lucky, he ended up suffering a ripped patella and has not wrestled since, but TWENTY FIVE feet.
~I imagine young vertigo cannot even quite count that high.~
Jamie: Vertigo, I don’t expect you to be shocked, awed or amazed by either of those feats. Much like I rolled my eyes at the lame mama jokes that protruded from your mouth, honestly dude, we are a little past the mama jokes. We all know that my mom is like a hardware store, twenty-five cents a screw.
Regardless, we are going to have a brawl, a blood fest, a spot fest, whatever it is that you want to call it. They say that this pay per view is about family values, I highly recommend that families avert their children’s eyes. I could care less what you say Dirtmurder, it’s put up or shut up time now son, and you have said only one thing that strikes a chord with me in any of your interviews.
Cassandra: That he is Satan?
Jamie: No. Surprisingly enough, I don’t care for the psycho babble so much. The one thing that Vertigo said that I care about is that I am just my daddy’s son. I am sure that a lot of people here feel that way, that I got a contract because my last name is Ryan. Fact of the matter is that after Sunday the pundits can all lay that theory to rest. I will make a name for myself and it will be at the expense of the wife beating, drug dealing, self abusing, seldom amusing emo son of a gun, Vertigo Dirtmurder.
-The lights in the theatre fade again and the camera focuses back on the screen. The screen shows footage of Jamie crushing lance through a table in slow motion. That is final image that we have to focus on prior to this hardcore match on Sunday that will make one man, and likely ruin another.-
Vertigo Dirtmurder: Vertigo: It’s all over for you Jamie. If you were smart you'd leave town with your tail between your legs and your slut on her back before tonight…or make no mistake... you will regret it, and that’s not a threat... that’s the ultraviolent gospel!
-The camera scrambles as Vertigo drives his fist into the camera. Jamie slams his feet down and gets up. He arrogantly throws some popcorn at the screen as the lights come up. –
Jamie: WHAT? That was the ending? There was no plot! It made no sense! What a terrible movie! The lead actor was ugly, he thinks he is the devil, and he just rambled on incoherently making threats at his enemy. I didn’t find him to be believable or interesting at all. I mean, the cutting himself thing? Since when do silly teen-aged emo ****s get leading roles? This kid is nothing more than comic relief, he should be on suicide watch, not some flick at the corner theater.
-Jamie looks over at Cassandra who looks sideways at him.-
Cassandra: Babe. You do realize that that wasn’t a movie right? That was the last promo from Vertigo.
~That’s right Cassy…keep believing that I am just a naïve little child. You are falling for me hook line and sinker baby.~
Jamie: Huh? What? That was my opponent? That was Vertigo again? Wow…
Cassandra: Come now, he has just gone over the deep end. If he continues along this horrible decline that he is on, I am actually more than slightly worried about you babe. If he is crazy, he may just kill you in that match.
Jamie: Baby, come on. You are worried for my safety, and all that I can keep thinking to myself is “this is what I get after graduating from the minor leagues?”
Cass, baby. Look at this guy, I mean ****, I wish that this was a first blood match, I’d just scratch off one of his scabs. There are two kinds of wrestlers in hardcore divisions. There are those that THINK that they are hardcore. They are the people that believe that they make themselves look uber-tough, or uber-hardcore, or ultra-violent by cutting themselves, beating up women, and hitting people with trash cans. Then, there are the wrestlers that really are hardcore. They do the spots for the chants, for the fans, and they have a quiet dignity about themselves outside of the ring. Vertigo is one of those types, and I am the other. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out which one of us is which.
Cassandra: But hun, honestly, tell me, is there not a part of you that wonders, that worries about what you are getting into with this hardcore match?
Jamie: None. I have waited my entire life for this chance, a shot at the big leagues. A chance to make a spectacle of myself in front of a huge crowd, and millions of people watching on pay per view. This is my first time on a grand stage, and trust me when I say that this will be my time to make a spectacle. This will be my time to stand up, pull off an amazing move, and etch the name Jamie Ryan in the name of fans around the world.
Another thing that you seem to keep mentioning Jamie, is that whole deal about me only being a last name. Allow me to ask you something Vertigo, what are you? Also, as for my name, dear friend, it I simply that, I am not my father, nor will I ever attempt to be my father. We are two entirely different entities, two beings, two polar opposites. You see, my father respected you, he tried to take you under his wing, he tried to create Insurrection Inc. , but I question that. Who is Vertigo? What have you done lately, in fact…what have you done ever?
-Jamie motions to Cassandra that he will be back in a moment. He begins walking up the stairs in the theatre. The camera position changes to show Jamie walking up. We realize that the theater is actually one of a grandiose nature. It has an annex, and a balcony. Jamie continues to climb the stairs. He is jogging now.-
~It is not my typical nature to brag, to show-boat, or to tout what I have done in the past, however, it seems that here, in this company or at least with this opponent I must do so. To garner some sort of credibility, some kind of recognition from this worm that I must face on Sunday. Perhaps my points are better served through images and actions rather than words with this lower form of life. Perhaps words are too much for him, so be it, I will sink to his level.~
-Jamie gets to a side wall, he jumps up and grabs onto the railing of the annex and pulls himself up to the next level. He stands upon the base that hangs out and looks down. Perhaps ten feet above the first level now.-
Jamie: Vertigo, it was a small arena in Sacramento that I made my first ten foot leap. I was up there, quite high up on a ladder. The fans around me were chanting my name, and begging for me to plummet down upon my helpless opponent below. You see, I had laid him prone on a table. It was then that I decided, in that fleeting moment that I would become a spot monkey. I took flight, my frame flying through the air with ease, using the move that my father perfected, and I crashed through that table, breaking my fall with only the comfort of the other body beneath me. Vertigo, ten feet to me now is nothing, however, if the chance provides itself, I will send your ass through a table from that height.
~Oh the feeling, I miss the feeling of crushing bones beneath me as I destroy a human being’s bone structure. The sound of his groans as his insides turn to mush from the speed garnered through that free fall.~
-Jamie again climbs the stairs. This time he exits through a door at the top of the annex, and we lose sight of him. We hear a door slam open overhead however, and the image of Jamie Ryan can be seen standing twenty-five feet up now on the base of the balcony.-
Jamie: Now this, this is a little more in my district. Twenty-five feet. Los Angeles, a little over three months ago. I was in the midst of a triangle match for the So Cal Hardcore Championship. Earlier in the match, I had been left for dead after taking a spot at ringside. The other two combatants battles into the crowd, and were nearly drained. The fans grew abuzz however as both men were getting to their feet in amongst the crowd. The spotlights found me just before I majestically took flight. I landed atop both men, one of them wasn’t very lucky, he ended up suffering a ripped patella and has not wrestled since, but TWENTY FIVE feet.
~I imagine young vertigo cannot even quite count that high.~
Jamie: Vertigo, I don’t expect you to be shocked, awed or amazed by either of those feats. Much like I rolled my eyes at the lame mama jokes that protruded from your mouth, honestly dude, we are a little past the mama jokes. We all know that my mom is like a hardware store, twenty-five cents a screw.
Regardless, we are going to have a brawl, a blood fest, a spot fest, whatever it is that you want to call it. They say that this pay per view is about family values, I highly recommend that families avert their children’s eyes. I could care less what you say Dirtmurder, it’s put up or shut up time now son, and you have said only one thing that strikes a chord with me in any of your interviews.
Cassandra: That he is Satan?
Jamie: No. Surprisingly enough, I don’t care for the psycho babble so much. The one thing that Vertigo said that I care about is that I am just my daddy’s son. I am sure that a lot of people here feel that way, that I got a contract because my last name is Ryan. Fact of the matter is that after Sunday the pundits can all lay that theory to rest. I will make a name for myself and it will be at the expense of the wife beating, drug dealing, self abusing, seldom amusing emo son of a gun, Vertigo Dirtmurder.
-The lights in the theatre fade again and the camera focuses back on the screen. The screen shows footage of Jamie crushing lance through a table in slow motion. That is final image that we have to focus on prior to this hardcore match on Sunday that will make one man, and likely ruin another.-
