Post by D! on Dec 10, 2005 2:11:58 GMT -5
(Lights up, earlier Friday afternoon as the sun is trying to set. We at one of the many feet of the High Level Bridge, the black steel monster that runs over the North Saskatchewan River and has linked Edmonton's downtown with Edmonton's South Side for nearly one hundred years. Where we are the bridge supports actually dig into the River Valley, specifically the Kinsmen Park, where we see a familiar face. The man called D! - check. NAPW Title on his shoulder - check. Doofy green toque - check. With a pensive look on his face, he gets to talking.)
D!: If I can be serious for a minute . . .
(Pause.)
D!: Right above us, right here, we've come across a bit of Championhip drama. Let's not use names, but you know who I mean. A certain Champion who considered just tossing the belt into the frigid North Saskatchewan and be done with it. Because being Champion is hell, you are led to believe, and that just because you think you want the title doesn't mean your life is better for having it . . . really, I've spent the better part of a month having an arrogant veteran try to drill it into my head.
Well, my old enemies are gone, and in their place, I get two new faces to deal with. Lobo, who, let's face it, is bigger and stronger than I can ever be. And Chris Casino, who just seems to have everything going for him right now. And in a Triple Threat on Monday, if they can get the win over yours truly, then they advance to the #1 contender's position. And if they don't, I get to go through all of this with brand-new faces, and so on, and so on, until somebody gets my number and beats me.
So, with all of this toil . . . with all of these challenges, and conflict, and personal attacks, well . . . what do you expect me to feel, except . . .
(Smiles.)
Joy.
Call me crazy, call me tired, (sings) Call Me Irresponsible! My point is, I knew right from the get-go that I wanted this title. Not because of the look of it, not because of the money, or fame, but because it marks me as the best singles wrestler in NAPW. So guess what? I'm not the least bit surprised by what I've seen this past week. Damn, I'm happy.
I mean, Lobo. You had a shot, you had a clean chance to earn a title shot, and you blew it. DQ! No soup for you! But as soon as the smoke clears, WHAM!, you're back in there. And you have a second chance at the title! Well, that's what makes a champion, brother! That's what makes for great matches--the love of a challenge. The joy.
Now what absolutely slays me is that you had the stones to say I wasn't giving you "the respect you deserve." Dammit, Lola, do you even remember who gave you the match? Or why? I don't want you blaming the match on me, I don't want you blaming the match on Chris Casino, I want you to take responsibility for your actions. You can't DQ your way out of a Triple Threat--your options are Pinfall! or Submission! And until you have either one coming out of MNF, stop bleating to everyone about respect.
(Shrugs.) You want to belittle me for "running around" while you "wrestle"? Then stop "running around" chasing the Gulf South Hardcore title and "wrestle" your way to the NAPW Championship. Get your priorities straight, Lobo. It's done wonders for my career.
Chris Casino!
(D! chuckles, grinning impishly.)
Chris Casino! The biggest thing to hit Monday Night Fight! since yours truly. A guy who seemingly has it all: born filthy rich, male model good-looks, quick on the stick, and OH--the legendary Terry Brandon as your manager! Man, that must be sweet. Someone to do all of your thinking for you, and make challenges for you . . . I had to do all of that stuff on my own, and it's hard, yo. And WHAZAM! You've got a match with the NAPW Champ two matches in! Well, no wonder you want to compare yourself to me. No wonder you see yourself as following in my footsteps!
(D! mimes and vocally imitates a record scratch.)
For starters! All of this talk of great wrestling skills? (Motions with his hands.) Any . . . time . . . now. A dropkick, a superkick and the Cash Out? Buddy, I can do three matches in a row, I can wait you out thirty seconds, that's for damn sure. But let's give you some credit and say "Hey, That Was Against Moose". I've always liked Moose, but he's just not himself these days. Fine. I'm happy to face anybody with serious skills, Vegas. You're not getting into my head that way.
In fact, you're not getting in my head at all--which I see as a dilemma for you, because you're investing serious time into trash-talking me. In fact, I'm downright concerned, peanut, because it's taking two brains to muster nothing more than a disapproving stare.
Confused? Bet you are! So let me spell it out, letter-by-letter: I've only been competing professionally six weeks, and you've already hit me with old material. Now that's special. Hell, compared to you, Lobo looks like Rob Van Dam in the ECW days.
Your manager figures Winchell gave you the match against me and Lobo because you're so good, and you've done nothing but wow people, and you'll single-handedly save the NAPW with that stuff that you do. You see, I seem to remember a similar point by another fellow, and I'm gonna ask you the question I asked him: Are you sure you know what Winchell's thinking? I mean, you spend all of your time bashing Canada, or bashing Action! . . . well, Winchell's from Canada, and it's a safe bet that Winchell likes Action!, so . . .
. . . has it crossed your mind that you're being punished? Hmm? A little schooling for Big Mouth Billy Bass-ino?
And then there's the "My First Ric Flair Look" that you bought from Mattel. Three-piece suits. Flash-the-cash. Blah de blah de blah. (Jerks his open fist up and down.) I mean, I know that you probably haven't watched the tapes of the stuff that happened before you got here, but trust me, it's worth your time. Here, let me do your next few promos for you: "The NAPW Championship is a way of life!" "No, way, you got lucky, you little punk!" "Oh, no, you got lucky a second time!" "All-State has the insurance to fit your needs!"
(Clutches a feigned migraine.)
And as for you saving the company, well, the Butterdome sold out on my watch, so please, Chris--please save us from all that horrible revenue.
(D! has been edging closer and closer to the edge of the river He stops, picks astone up, and whips it out as far as ihe can. We hear a faint splash, but it's too dark by now to see the impact.)
D!: I do believe I've strayed from my original point. Which is joy.
(D! looks up at the massive black structure towering over him.)
D!: How appropriate is it, Ravager, that you contemplated tossing out the Provincial title on this very bridge. You see, I had a childhood friend end her life here.
(Pause.)
And I don't dwell on that every time I come here. Honestly, I stopped thinking about it years ago. Just . . . every once in a while . . .
(D! sighs deeply, trying to regain his composure.)
I don't claim to understand what she was going through at the time, but I know myself well enough to know that I wouldn't have made the same decision she did. Because try as other people do, you can't scrub joy from my system. I get tried, I really do, but I'm proud of each and every thing I've accomplished.
And when it comes right down to it, Ravager, Lobo, Chris, Terry . . .
(He looks up once more.)
. . . I can't just stop using the bridge.
(Lights down.)
D!: If I can be serious for a minute . . .
(Pause.)
D!: Right above us, right here, we've come across a bit of Championhip drama. Let's not use names, but you know who I mean. A certain Champion who considered just tossing the belt into the frigid North Saskatchewan and be done with it. Because being Champion is hell, you are led to believe, and that just because you think you want the title doesn't mean your life is better for having it . . . really, I've spent the better part of a month having an arrogant veteran try to drill it into my head.
Well, my old enemies are gone, and in their place, I get two new faces to deal with. Lobo, who, let's face it, is bigger and stronger than I can ever be. And Chris Casino, who just seems to have everything going for him right now. And in a Triple Threat on Monday, if they can get the win over yours truly, then they advance to the #1 contender's position. And if they don't, I get to go through all of this with brand-new faces, and so on, and so on, until somebody gets my number and beats me.
So, with all of this toil . . . with all of these challenges, and conflict, and personal attacks, well . . . what do you expect me to feel, except . . .
(Smiles.)
Joy.
Call me crazy, call me tired, (sings) Call Me Irresponsible! My point is, I knew right from the get-go that I wanted this title. Not because of the look of it, not because of the money, or fame, but because it marks me as the best singles wrestler in NAPW. So guess what? I'm not the least bit surprised by what I've seen this past week. Damn, I'm happy.
I mean, Lobo. You had a shot, you had a clean chance to earn a title shot, and you blew it. DQ! No soup for you! But as soon as the smoke clears, WHAM!, you're back in there. And you have a second chance at the title! Well, that's what makes a champion, brother! That's what makes for great matches--the love of a challenge. The joy.
Now what absolutely slays me is that you had the stones to say I wasn't giving you "the respect you deserve." Dammit, Lola, do you even remember who gave you the match? Or why? I don't want you blaming the match on me, I don't want you blaming the match on Chris Casino, I want you to take responsibility for your actions. You can't DQ your way out of a Triple Threat--your options are Pinfall! or Submission! And until you have either one coming out of MNF, stop bleating to everyone about respect.
(Shrugs.) You want to belittle me for "running around" while you "wrestle"? Then stop "running around" chasing the Gulf South Hardcore title and "wrestle" your way to the NAPW Championship. Get your priorities straight, Lobo. It's done wonders for my career.
Chris Casino!
(D! chuckles, grinning impishly.)
Chris Casino! The biggest thing to hit Monday Night Fight! since yours truly. A guy who seemingly has it all: born filthy rich, male model good-looks, quick on the stick, and OH--the legendary Terry Brandon as your manager! Man, that must be sweet. Someone to do all of your thinking for you, and make challenges for you . . . I had to do all of that stuff on my own, and it's hard, yo. And WHAZAM! You've got a match with the NAPW Champ two matches in! Well, no wonder you want to compare yourself to me. No wonder you see yourself as following in my footsteps!
(D! mimes and vocally imitates a record scratch.)
For starters! All of this talk of great wrestling skills? (Motions with his hands.) Any . . . time . . . now. A dropkick, a superkick and the Cash Out? Buddy, I can do three matches in a row, I can wait you out thirty seconds, that's for damn sure. But let's give you some credit and say "Hey, That Was Against Moose". I've always liked Moose, but he's just not himself these days. Fine. I'm happy to face anybody with serious skills, Vegas. You're not getting into my head that way.
In fact, you're not getting in my head at all--which I see as a dilemma for you, because you're investing serious time into trash-talking me. In fact, I'm downright concerned, peanut, because it's taking two brains to muster nothing more than a disapproving stare.
Confused? Bet you are! So let me spell it out, letter-by-letter: I've only been competing professionally six weeks, and you've already hit me with old material. Now that's special. Hell, compared to you, Lobo looks like Rob Van Dam in the ECW days.
Your manager figures Winchell gave you the match against me and Lobo because you're so good, and you've done nothing but wow people, and you'll single-handedly save the NAPW with that stuff that you do. You see, I seem to remember a similar point by another fellow, and I'm gonna ask you the question I asked him: Are you sure you know what Winchell's thinking? I mean, you spend all of your time bashing Canada, or bashing Action! . . . well, Winchell's from Canada, and it's a safe bet that Winchell likes Action!, so . . .
. . . has it crossed your mind that you're being punished? Hmm? A little schooling for Big Mouth Billy Bass-ino?
And then there's the "My First Ric Flair Look" that you bought from Mattel. Three-piece suits. Flash-the-cash. Blah de blah de blah. (Jerks his open fist up and down.) I mean, I know that you probably haven't watched the tapes of the stuff that happened before you got here, but trust me, it's worth your time. Here, let me do your next few promos for you: "The NAPW Championship is a way of life!" "No, way, you got lucky, you little punk!" "Oh, no, you got lucky a second time!" "All-State has the insurance to fit your needs!"
(Clutches a feigned migraine.)
And as for you saving the company, well, the Butterdome sold out on my watch, so please, Chris--please save us from all that horrible revenue.
(D! has been edging closer and closer to the edge of the river He stops, picks astone up, and whips it out as far as ihe can. We hear a faint splash, but it's too dark by now to see the impact.)
D!: I do believe I've strayed from my original point. Which is joy.
(D! looks up at the massive black structure towering over him.)
D!: How appropriate is it, Ravager, that you contemplated tossing out the Provincial title on this very bridge. You see, I had a childhood friend end her life here.
(Pause.)
And I don't dwell on that every time I come here. Honestly, I stopped thinking about it years ago. Just . . . every once in a while . . .
(D! sighs deeply, trying to regain his composure.)
I don't claim to understand what she was going through at the time, but I know myself well enough to know that I wouldn't have made the same decision she did. Because try as other people do, you can't scrub joy from my system. I get tried, I really do, but I'm proud of each and every thing I've accomplished.
And when it comes right down to it, Ravager, Lobo, Chris, Terry . . .
(He looks up once more.)
. . . I can't just stop using the bridge.
(Lights down.)