Post by Freakke on Oct 15, 2009 6:21:36 GMT -6
Freakke is seen siting alone shaking his head. In his hand are two pictures. He has them turned to for the camera to see. One is Blackheart, the other is Mr. Mysterio.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the audience, I have a challenge for you. If any of you, any of you at all, can tell me how I ended up with two of the biggest steroid pumpers in the world, breathing down my neck for some form of misguided revenge, I will come to your house and drive you all the way out to see this pay per view."
He shifts and looks at the camera, dropping the photos.
"Blackheart, you got what was coming to you. It's your fault, quit blaming me."
He reached down and grabbed a bottle of water. He took a quick drink and put it down again.
"Mr Mysterio...what the hell? Are you seriously gonna flip out on me because some Ted Bundy wannabe came in dressed as a clown and did that to your family? Come on...If I went griping about something like that, I'd be breathing down the neck of every drunk driver the worlds ever seen. The man that did to me what the clown did to you is paralyzed from the waist down. I visited him once and the very sight of me made him breakdown and cry. From that point on, I only felt sorry for him. Don't hold your grudge on me. I won't take the blame for something I didn't do."
He leans closer and looks even more serious...seriously.
"Lastly, without those fans you claim not to care about, you'd be out of a job. Those fans are the whole reason I am in this business and insulting them is like insulting some great big chunk of me. You wanna mess with the clown? Go ahead."
Freakke stood up and stared at the camera.
"Don't mess with the cretins."
"Ladies and gentlemen of the audience, I have a challenge for you. If any of you, any of you at all, can tell me how I ended up with two of the biggest steroid pumpers in the world, breathing down my neck for some form of misguided revenge, I will come to your house and drive you all the way out to see this pay per view."
He shifts and looks at the camera, dropping the photos.
"Blackheart, you got what was coming to you. It's your fault, quit blaming me."
He reached down and grabbed a bottle of water. He took a quick drink and put it down again.
"Mr Mysterio...what the hell? Are you seriously gonna flip out on me because some Ted Bundy wannabe came in dressed as a clown and did that to your family? Come on...If I went griping about something like that, I'd be breathing down the neck of every drunk driver the worlds ever seen. The man that did to me what the clown did to you is paralyzed from the waist down. I visited him once and the very sight of me made him breakdown and cry. From that point on, I only felt sorry for him. Don't hold your grudge on me. I won't take the blame for something I didn't do."
He leans closer and looks even more serious...seriously.
"Lastly, without those fans you claim not to care about, you'd be out of a job. Those fans are the whole reason I am in this business and insulting them is like insulting some great big chunk of me. You wanna mess with the clown? Go ahead."
Freakke stood up and stared at the camera.
"Don't mess with the cretins."