Post by Next Generation on Jan 26, 2007 12:27:46 GMT -5
DATE: 1995
PLACE: Mexico City, Mexico
Black open. Five seconds go by, and then the screen is filled with light up, with the date and place appearing in the middle in red letters. After several more seconds, the screen goes into "warp speed" (ala Star Wars) and takes us to this scene:
Leo Mack is in a large office building, dressed in his finest suit. his hair is neatly combed, and a blue handkerchief is tucked into his jacket pocker. He stops at a long, tall door.
He knocks once.
Twice.
Three times.
A Mexican man, dressed in a suit, opens the door, and motions for Mack to walk in. Slowly, he walks in.
O/S Voice: (heavy Mexican - Spanish accent) Greetings, Mr. Mack. Please, have a seat.
The voice is emanating from Juan Santayana, a big time Mexican record producer. He's and older gentlemen, between sixty and seventy years of age. He extends his hand out to Mack, and they share a quick, professional handshake.
JS: So, Mr. Mack. I understand you are a....wrestling promoter, that is correct?
Mack: Yes sir, it is in fact.
JS: Ah, that's wonderful. Do you watch the Consejo?
Mack: Very often. More so than what your neighbors to the North put out there. (laughs, as does Santayana)
JS: I have been a fan of Lucha Libre all my life. Do you - pardon me, Mr. Mack - Victor, perhaps a drink for Mr. Mack?
Victor O/S: Certainly.
Santayana looks at Mack, raising his eyebrows as if to ask him what he'd like.
Mack: Well, I drove, so a water with some lemon would be fine, thank you.
We can heat Victor open and close a door.
JS: Where was I....ah, yes. Do you have a proposal for me, Mr. Mack? I was told that you had a presentation prepared. I'd love to hear it, but if I was misinfomred we can spend some time to...what's the word? Brainstorm. That's it.
Mack: Well, I wouldn't call it a presentation. More of a pitch, than anything else.
JS: (smiles) I'm all ears, Mr. Mack.
Mack adjusts his tie, and exhales deeply. Everything he's ever wanted out of the wrestling business hinges on this exact moment. He can't afford to lose this potential backer. Not after he lost the last one. The IIA can't afford another hit like this, not with all he's been through to get it off the ground.
Mack: OK, here it is. A single promotion, with several branches, much like the NWA.
JS: Excuse me, Mr. Mack, but I'm not familiar -
Mack: National Wrestling Alliance.
JS: Oh, that's right. How foolish of me. Please, continue.
Mack: Well, I plan to have branches all over the world. Tampa Bay, Florida in the United States. Tokyo, Germany, England, and, hopefully, right here in Mexico.
JS: Now, how does this idea differ from what the NWA has already established?
Mack: The blending of styles, sir. I want to bring in the best independent wrestlers, sign them to long term, exclusive deals to the IIA -
JS: Pardon me again, Mr. Mack. But what is the IIA?
Mack: Oh, excuse me. That would be the (Victor walks on screen as he speaks, and places the water down in front of him) International Independents Association, Mr. Santayana.
JS: Thank you. Please, continue. You've piqued my interest.
Mack: OK, as I said, I want to blend all styles. Technical wrestlers, high flyers from the world over, mat wrestlers, big powerhouses, luchadors, Japanese Puroresu, and I especially want to put a major emphasis on tag team wrestling.
JS: I see. How do you expect to compete with the competition?
Mack: By producing a better product, night in and night out. With your finanical support, I'm one hundred percent positive I could land a substantial television deal within the calendar year. This is your chance to make your mark on the world outside of the music industry, and my chance to finally own and operate my own wrestling promotion. Considering how successful we are, I think it's only logical for us to work together and give those boys up in Connecticut and Atlanta a run for their money.
Santayana smiles, and the scene abruptly cuts to Mack outside, walking to his car.
Mack: (jumping up and down, excited as all hell) YES! YES! PRO WRESTLING, HERE I COME!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PRESENT TIME
Place: Kamloops, British Columbia.
Leo Mack is seen standing, alone, in front of the familair NAPW banner.
Mack: When I became a promoter in 1995, I had a dream. That all the styles in the world of professional wrestling could blend into one, and create the perfect breeding ground for all the superstars in the business. I had a vision that tag team wrestling would return to it's 1980s hey day, when the Rock N' Roll Express and British Bulldogs ruled the world. Sadly, that vision has died. I'm a manager at heart - it's just who I am. I sold it to a friend, and he takes care of it well enough.
What could make me give up on the IIA, you ask? Taking my two biggest stars, who I love like sons, and touring them around the world, seasoning them and turning them into the top tag team that there ever was. There names are Hiroshi Sakai and Miguel Santiago. I dubbed them "Next Generation", because they are the next step in the evolution of tag team wrestling. The stoic warrior, with eyes of steel and feet of fury. His flashly, but equally dedicated and talented partner, master of all things above the ropes.
Sakai is everything you could ask for and more from a professional wrestler. Nothing, not a thing in this world, scares that man. I've seen him stand up to men twice his size and put them back in their place. That's just the kind of guy Sakai is - the once who stands up to the bullies and "tough guys" of the world. When he looks at these "Untouchables", he sees one thing - tow bullies that need to be put back in their places. Two big, oafish men who couldn't wrestle their way out of a paper bag. All they rely on his power. Sakai doesn't give a damn how strong you are. Does being powerful protect you from a Sakai Kick to the head? Will it cure the sting of his chops? No, it won't. Tell me, gentlemen, what will you do when this Japanese bone saw starts to go through you like a hot knife through butter? Pick him up and try to toss him around like some rag doll? You may be able to put him on his back, but you'll never, ever be able to keep him down. He'll just keep coming, and coming, he won't stop till one of you is pinned, submits, or dies. And that's no joke, gentlemen.
Are you two also of the persuasion that just because Santiago is a small man, that he won't be any match for you? Are you foolish enough to believe that he can't hurt you? You each have over a one foot height advantage, and you each have enormous weight advantages. But, I wonder - how can you hit what you can't hold? The naked eye can barely contain Santiago's speed, and long, leatherback books could be written about Santiago's legendary resilience. You want to pin Santiago? I'll be blunt about it. KILL HIM. Or he'll never, ever surrender.
But you both won't have to worry about that. I'm confident in my boys, and on Tuesday Night, they'll show you why all the strength and size in the world can't match up with a heart and talent.
fade out
PLACE: Mexico City, Mexico
Black open. Five seconds go by, and then the screen is filled with light up, with the date and place appearing in the middle in red letters. After several more seconds, the screen goes into "warp speed" (ala Star Wars) and takes us to this scene:
Leo Mack is in a large office building, dressed in his finest suit. his hair is neatly combed, and a blue handkerchief is tucked into his jacket pocker. He stops at a long, tall door.
He knocks once.
Twice.
Three times.
A Mexican man, dressed in a suit, opens the door, and motions for Mack to walk in. Slowly, he walks in.
O/S Voice: (heavy Mexican - Spanish accent) Greetings, Mr. Mack. Please, have a seat.
The voice is emanating from Juan Santayana, a big time Mexican record producer. He's and older gentlemen, between sixty and seventy years of age. He extends his hand out to Mack, and they share a quick, professional handshake.
JS: So, Mr. Mack. I understand you are a....wrestling promoter, that is correct?
Mack: Yes sir, it is in fact.
JS: Ah, that's wonderful. Do you watch the Consejo?
Mack: Very often. More so than what your neighbors to the North put out there. (laughs, as does Santayana)
JS: I have been a fan of Lucha Libre all my life. Do you - pardon me, Mr. Mack - Victor, perhaps a drink for Mr. Mack?
Victor O/S: Certainly.
Santayana looks at Mack, raising his eyebrows as if to ask him what he'd like.
Mack: Well, I drove, so a water with some lemon would be fine, thank you.
We can heat Victor open and close a door.
JS: Where was I....ah, yes. Do you have a proposal for me, Mr. Mack? I was told that you had a presentation prepared. I'd love to hear it, but if I was misinfomred we can spend some time to...what's the word? Brainstorm. That's it.
Mack: Well, I wouldn't call it a presentation. More of a pitch, than anything else.
JS: (smiles) I'm all ears, Mr. Mack.
Mack adjusts his tie, and exhales deeply. Everything he's ever wanted out of the wrestling business hinges on this exact moment. He can't afford to lose this potential backer. Not after he lost the last one. The IIA can't afford another hit like this, not with all he's been through to get it off the ground.
Mack: OK, here it is. A single promotion, with several branches, much like the NWA.
JS: Excuse me, Mr. Mack, but I'm not familiar -
Mack: National Wrestling Alliance.
JS: Oh, that's right. How foolish of me. Please, continue.
Mack: Well, I plan to have branches all over the world. Tampa Bay, Florida in the United States. Tokyo, Germany, England, and, hopefully, right here in Mexico.
JS: Now, how does this idea differ from what the NWA has already established?
Mack: The blending of styles, sir. I want to bring in the best independent wrestlers, sign them to long term, exclusive deals to the IIA -
JS: Pardon me again, Mr. Mack. But what is the IIA?
Mack: Oh, excuse me. That would be the (Victor walks on screen as he speaks, and places the water down in front of him) International Independents Association, Mr. Santayana.
JS: Thank you. Please, continue. You've piqued my interest.
Mack: OK, as I said, I want to blend all styles. Technical wrestlers, high flyers from the world over, mat wrestlers, big powerhouses, luchadors, Japanese Puroresu, and I especially want to put a major emphasis on tag team wrestling.
JS: I see. How do you expect to compete with the competition?
Mack: By producing a better product, night in and night out. With your finanical support, I'm one hundred percent positive I could land a substantial television deal within the calendar year. This is your chance to make your mark on the world outside of the music industry, and my chance to finally own and operate my own wrestling promotion. Considering how successful we are, I think it's only logical for us to work together and give those boys up in Connecticut and Atlanta a run for their money.
Santayana smiles, and the scene abruptly cuts to Mack outside, walking to his car.
Mack: (jumping up and down, excited as all hell) YES! YES! PRO WRESTLING, HERE I COME!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PRESENT TIME
Place: Kamloops, British Columbia.
Leo Mack is seen standing, alone, in front of the familair NAPW banner.
Mack: When I became a promoter in 1995, I had a dream. That all the styles in the world of professional wrestling could blend into one, and create the perfect breeding ground for all the superstars in the business. I had a vision that tag team wrestling would return to it's 1980s hey day, when the Rock N' Roll Express and British Bulldogs ruled the world. Sadly, that vision has died. I'm a manager at heart - it's just who I am. I sold it to a friend, and he takes care of it well enough.
What could make me give up on the IIA, you ask? Taking my two biggest stars, who I love like sons, and touring them around the world, seasoning them and turning them into the top tag team that there ever was. There names are Hiroshi Sakai and Miguel Santiago. I dubbed them "Next Generation", because they are the next step in the evolution of tag team wrestling. The stoic warrior, with eyes of steel and feet of fury. His flashly, but equally dedicated and talented partner, master of all things above the ropes.
Sakai is everything you could ask for and more from a professional wrestler. Nothing, not a thing in this world, scares that man. I've seen him stand up to men twice his size and put them back in their place. That's just the kind of guy Sakai is - the once who stands up to the bullies and "tough guys" of the world. When he looks at these "Untouchables", he sees one thing - tow bullies that need to be put back in their places. Two big, oafish men who couldn't wrestle their way out of a paper bag. All they rely on his power. Sakai doesn't give a damn how strong you are. Does being powerful protect you from a Sakai Kick to the head? Will it cure the sting of his chops? No, it won't. Tell me, gentlemen, what will you do when this Japanese bone saw starts to go through you like a hot knife through butter? Pick him up and try to toss him around like some rag doll? You may be able to put him on his back, but you'll never, ever be able to keep him down. He'll just keep coming, and coming, he won't stop till one of you is pinned, submits, or dies. And that's no joke, gentlemen.
Are you two also of the persuasion that just because Santiago is a small man, that he won't be any match for you? Are you foolish enough to believe that he can't hurt you? You each have over a one foot height advantage, and you each have enormous weight advantages. But, I wonder - how can you hit what you can't hold? The naked eye can barely contain Santiago's speed, and long, leatherback books could be written about Santiago's legendary resilience. You want to pin Santiago? I'll be blunt about it. KILL HIM. Or he'll never, ever surrender.
But you both won't have to worry about that. I'm confident in my boys, and on Tuesday Night, they'll show you why all the strength and size in the world can't match up with a heart and talent.
fade out