Post by Pure Innovation on Aug 23, 2008 2:03:09 GMT -6
Ah youth. Youthful exuberance, the roar of a young lion trying to make his first impression on the scene a good one. You can call it what you will, but it all ultimately amounts to the same thing: a young person breaking into an industry with a big chip on their shoulder, feeling like they have the world to prove. Full of nothing but determination and enthusiasm, those traits can potentially be both performance enhancing and judgement harming.
That is, if it's not properly controlled and if the "young lion" is unwilling to learn. Properly harnessed, that youthful energy can be turned into a deadly weapon and can help make that young lion much, much more efficient, more intelligent. Such is the case with the way Pure Innovation has conducted itself. It's also another of the things that separate a Blake Fields from a Dylan Phoenix.
Just ask Pure Innovation about it.
It's at this point that we see both "The Running Man" Blake Fields, and "The Strong Style Saviour" Jack Flint standing in front of a nice red and black Porsche 911 Turbo in the middle of a parking garage. It's not one of those over the top "sparkly and shiny" cars that people are too afraid to take on the road every now and then. This one has obviously been taken on the road a little bit, but it's clearly been kept in good shape.
Jack: So, we're getting fed people's kid brother's not are we? At least this one seems to want to put up some sort of a fight. I'd be annoyed if they gave us another team that was just going to bore the crap out of me.
A laugh shortly from Blake shortly follows. And really, who can blame him after going through the Echoes of the Afterlife without breaking as much as a sweat?
Fields: I know, first we start off with a Callaway, and now we're being fed the X Division Champion's no talent kid brother? It's like they don't want half of these guys to even succeed at all, so they're just saying "Hey, let's make them breakfast for Pure Innovation". The higher ups know we're going to be huge in this company because we're not some jobbers who are in the shadows of those around us.
Flint nods slowly, but keeps a grin on his face. He'd heard the things that Dylan Phoenix and Chris Mercury had said, and he was happy that they seemed determined. As he leans against his car and crosses his arms, he can't help but think what a shame it was that they weren't focused in the right places.
Jack: I've heard what they said, yeah mini-AJ, I heard you talk about making the "first step", about how you have your sites set on the Tag Titles. You talk about religion, about the ten commandments of Christianity. I say you need to stop wasting your time and focus on the match at hand. There's only one Saviour you should be spending your time worrying about, Dylan....
......And it's me. You can talk about how you're "not impressed" with how handily we were able to take out Callaway's makeshift attempt at forming some sort of a team, but really, that's not going to do a damn thing to help you get ready for this match. All it's going to do is give you a false sense of confidence that will lead to your demise. Honestly Dylan, you guys haven't even teamed together yet. You haven't even had a match at all, and Chris Mercury's only had what, one match that he got his ass kicked in? How does that qualify you to be taking on the tag team champions? How does a combination of inexperience and complete failure somehow equal success?
He shakes his head in disbelief. It never ceases to amaze him how ridiculous some people could be. They go about things in what's entirely the wrong way, and then they go and complain about how they don't win.
Fields: It's kind of sad, I've got to say. You talk like we're supposed to think you're the biggest names in the industry, like you're somehow above everybody who's, oh, I don't know, wrestled more than 2 matches in their lifetime? How are we supposed to take you seriously when you're both hypocrites to yourselves? If you really have so little idea on how to prepare for a match that you have to drone on and on about how unfair the rules are, or how people are just "being sheep and following some sort of social norm in the world", then what right do you have to even be in a wrestling ring? Why don't you go off and write some angsty song like a whiny bitch?
Jack: You know, I've got to ask something though. How can you be proud to call yourselves "Fallen Perfection"? I mean, if you've "fallen" from wherever the hell it is you two are from, like Dallas, though I don't know how you can really fall much further than Dallas, but if you've gone downhill from there, then you're about as far from perfect as you can get. Really though, what are you fallen from? A decent training routine? Or maybe you've fallen from that one time in training that it looked like you might finally have some sort of athletic ability or wrestling talent? Did you "fall" from showing signs of intelligence higher than that of a 6th grader? Honestly though, do you REALLY expect to simply come in and say "Oh, we're not pushovers", and have us feel threatened? All that you're REALLY doing is showing that you're very much in the same league as the Echoes of the Afterlife. You're just making yourselves out to be complete jokes yourself, and I'm not talking about the kind of "dude, that was awesome!" way either. You're like the kind of joke that makes everyone just sort of awkwardly look around and go "please tell me he's done now, please get that moron off of the stage". I'd almost say that I felt sorry for you, if it wasn't for the fact that your idiotic words just make me want to stomp both of your faces right through the ring.
This time it's Blake that happens to laugh, timing it just so that a beat up green Chevy Malibu drives by just as he does so.
Fields: It's one thing to SAY you're not a pushover, but it's another damn thing to actually follow through on it. Already you're talking about backstage politics and how things like that aren't goind to hold you back, and how so and so is out to get you on this side, or so and so'd been trying to do something from over here. To me, all it sounds like you're doing is making excuses for why you'll lose, and it's making me feel sick.
Jack: All the Grade F bulls----ing, talks about "being sheep", or just general delusional comments aren't going to save you two from getting the same kind of beating that our last opponents got. In fact, it's simply going to make it worse for you guys. So when we've beaten you down to the point that you can barely even move and you're looking up at those bright lights in defeat, you'll be able to do only one thing.....just think about it.
Now, we fade out.
That is, if it's not properly controlled and if the "young lion" is unwilling to learn. Properly harnessed, that youthful energy can be turned into a deadly weapon and can help make that young lion much, much more efficient, more intelligent. Such is the case with the way Pure Innovation has conducted itself. It's also another of the things that separate a Blake Fields from a Dylan Phoenix.
Just ask Pure Innovation about it.
It's at this point that we see both "The Running Man" Blake Fields, and "The Strong Style Saviour" Jack Flint standing in front of a nice red and black Porsche 911 Turbo in the middle of a parking garage. It's not one of those over the top "sparkly and shiny" cars that people are too afraid to take on the road every now and then. This one has obviously been taken on the road a little bit, but it's clearly been kept in good shape.
Jack: So, we're getting fed people's kid brother's not are we? At least this one seems to want to put up some sort of a fight. I'd be annoyed if they gave us another team that was just going to bore the crap out of me.
A laugh shortly from Blake shortly follows. And really, who can blame him after going through the Echoes of the Afterlife without breaking as much as a sweat?
Fields: I know, first we start off with a Callaway, and now we're being fed the X Division Champion's no talent kid brother? It's like they don't want half of these guys to even succeed at all, so they're just saying "Hey, let's make them breakfast for Pure Innovation". The higher ups know we're going to be huge in this company because we're not some jobbers who are in the shadows of those around us.
Flint nods slowly, but keeps a grin on his face. He'd heard the things that Dylan Phoenix and Chris Mercury had said, and he was happy that they seemed determined. As he leans against his car and crosses his arms, he can't help but think what a shame it was that they weren't focused in the right places.
Jack: I've heard what they said, yeah mini-AJ, I heard you talk about making the "first step", about how you have your sites set on the Tag Titles. You talk about religion, about the ten commandments of Christianity. I say you need to stop wasting your time and focus on the match at hand. There's only one Saviour you should be spending your time worrying about, Dylan....
......And it's me. You can talk about how you're "not impressed" with how handily we were able to take out Callaway's makeshift attempt at forming some sort of a team, but really, that's not going to do a damn thing to help you get ready for this match. All it's going to do is give you a false sense of confidence that will lead to your demise. Honestly Dylan, you guys haven't even teamed together yet. You haven't even had a match at all, and Chris Mercury's only had what, one match that he got his ass kicked in? How does that qualify you to be taking on the tag team champions? How does a combination of inexperience and complete failure somehow equal success?
He shakes his head in disbelief. It never ceases to amaze him how ridiculous some people could be. They go about things in what's entirely the wrong way, and then they go and complain about how they don't win.
Fields: It's kind of sad, I've got to say. You talk like we're supposed to think you're the biggest names in the industry, like you're somehow above everybody who's, oh, I don't know, wrestled more than 2 matches in their lifetime? How are we supposed to take you seriously when you're both hypocrites to yourselves? If you really have so little idea on how to prepare for a match that you have to drone on and on about how unfair the rules are, or how people are just "being sheep and following some sort of social norm in the world", then what right do you have to even be in a wrestling ring? Why don't you go off and write some angsty song like a whiny bitch?
Jack: You know, I've got to ask something though. How can you be proud to call yourselves "Fallen Perfection"? I mean, if you've "fallen" from wherever the hell it is you two are from, like Dallas, though I don't know how you can really fall much further than Dallas, but if you've gone downhill from there, then you're about as far from perfect as you can get. Really though, what are you fallen from? A decent training routine? Or maybe you've fallen from that one time in training that it looked like you might finally have some sort of athletic ability or wrestling talent? Did you "fall" from showing signs of intelligence higher than that of a 6th grader? Honestly though, do you REALLY expect to simply come in and say "Oh, we're not pushovers", and have us feel threatened? All that you're REALLY doing is showing that you're very much in the same league as the Echoes of the Afterlife. You're just making yourselves out to be complete jokes yourself, and I'm not talking about the kind of "dude, that was awesome!" way either. You're like the kind of joke that makes everyone just sort of awkwardly look around and go "please tell me he's done now, please get that moron off of the stage". I'd almost say that I felt sorry for you, if it wasn't for the fact that your idiotic words just make me want to stomp both of your faces right through the ring.
This time it's Blake that happens to laugh, timing it just so that a beat up green Chevy Malibu drives by just as he does so.
Fields: It's one thing to SAY you're not a pushover, but it's another damn thing to actually follow through on it. Already you're talking about backstage politics and how things like that aren't goind to hold you back, and how so and so is out to get you on this side, or so and so'd been trying to do something from over here. To me, all it sounds like you're doing is making excuses for why you'll lose, and it's making me feel sick.
Jack: All the Grade F bulls----ing, talks about "being sheep", or just general delusional comments aren't going to save you two from getting the same kind of beating that our last opponents got. In fact, it's simply going to make it worse for you guys. So when we've beaten you down to the point that you can barely even move and you're looking up at those bright lights in defeat, you'll be able to do only one thing.....just think about it.
Now, we fade out.