Post by Ravager on Feb 23, 2007 21:18:39 GMT -5
February 23, 2007
As the rp's title suggests, we are in a flower shop. One NAPW fans haven't seen for a while. Since the day after the very first NAPW show way back in October of 2005. The same clerk is still there. And she still has the same suspicious look on her face as she watches Ravager fill out a card.
"February 27, 2007
Dear Lloyd;
It pains me to say this. Especially to you. But as NAPW champion, I have a certain standard to set, so I will put aside my pride to say this to you.
I'm sorry. And I'm sure you know why. I mean, I know it may have seemed that I didn't take you all that seriously. That I had my focus elsewhere. And to be honest, you weren't the man I wanted to fight. After the Untouchables stunt, all I wanted was revenge, not a test of my abilities. But there we were. The top men in the NAPW. With the title on the line. And I had little choice but to defend my belt with everything I had. But I always knew you were a threat Lloyd. You don't win as many titles as you have by fluke. Cheating, sure. Maybe one or two flukes, but six? No. You earned... a couple of those titles fair and square. That's why, in the end, I put aside my personal problems, and took care of business. My business of being the NAPW champion. You talked of destiny. Of me being a paper champion. Well, I didn't beat Evan with a pen. It wasn't words that knocked him to the mat. It wasn't sentence structure that wore him down. And it wasn't literary conceits that drove his skull into the top turnbuckle. It was all me Lloyd. The White Collar Assassin. The shooter. The Last Resort. The man who gave you the beating of a lifetime. The man who proved he's not a one shot wonder. The man who proved he deserves to be champion. Ravager.
You fought valiantly. And if I thought I would understand a word of what you'd say, I'd invite you for a drink to discuss the future. But between your mangled Newfyese and and my complete contempt for you, I'd say it would be an awkward evening. So instead I'd suggest you stay home. Nurse your war wounds. Drink yourself into a coma. Whatever you do, just rest assured of one thing:
There's no shame in losing to the champ. There's only shame in not being able to back up your words. Better luck in the future.
Ravager."
Ravager finishes writing up his card, and takes it to the clerk.
Clerk: Um. You realize today is only the 25th, right?
Ravager: Yes. I'm just so busy right now. I have a match in TEAM coming up, and if I don't get this sent out now, I might forget.
Clerk: What if you lose?
Ravager: I'd be very embarrassed. I don't like being embarrassed, so I'll have to work doubly hard to make sure I win, won't I?
Clerk: Don't you think this'll motivate Rees more?
Ravager: What are you, a wrestling analyst?
Clerk: You ever go to Wrestlehut 2000 on the Something Awful forums? I post there daily.
Ravager: (rolling his eyes and muttering under his breath) (bleep)ing Smart marks. (out loud) Don't you think this'll motivate me as much as it'll motivate Rees?
Clerk: Why motivate Rees?
Ravager: Because when I still manage to beat him, I'll silence a lot of critics.
Clerk: If I were in your shoes...
Ravager: You'd be tapping out to the Conception Bay Chinlock. Because you're not a wrestler. You've never been in the ring. You've never had mind games played on you. Never played any mind games yourself. I know what I'm doing. I don't want to lose my title on my first defense. And I certainly don't want to lose it to Rees. Not after some of the crap he's pulled here. So would you please just concentrate on being a florist and fill a vase with those dead leaves you swept off the floor and send it and my card to this address!
Ravager hands her a card.
Clerk: You know, there's some poison ivy growing out back, I could include that as well.
Ravager: And here I thought you went and lost your tip.
Fade to Black.
As the rp's title suggests, we are in a flower shop. One NAPW fans haven't seen for a while. Since the day after the very first NAPW show way back in October of 2005. The same clerk is still there. And she still has the same suspicious look on her face as she watches Ravager fill out a card.
"February 27, 2007
Dear Lloyd;
It pains me to say this. Especially to you. But as NAPW champion, I have a certain standard to set, so I will put aside my pride to say this to you.
I'm sorry. And I'm sure you know why. I mean, I know it may have seemed that I didn't take you all that seriously. That I had my focus elsewhere. And to be honest, you weren't the man I wanted to fight. After the Untouchables stunt, all I wanted was revenge, not a test of my abilities. But there we were. The top men in the NAPW. With the title on the line. And I had little choice but to defend my belt with everything I had. But I always knew you were a threat Lloyd. You don't win as many titles as you have by fluke. Cheating, sure. Maybe one or two flukes, but six? No. You earned... a couple of those titles fair and square. That's why, in the end, I put aside my personal problems, and took care of business. My business of being the NAPW champion. You talked of destiny. Of me being a paper champion. Well, I didn't beat Evan with a pen. It wasn't words that knocked him to the mat. It wasn't sentence structure that wore him down. And it wasn't literary conceits that drove his skull into the top turnbuckle. It was all me Lloyd. The White Collar Assassin. The shooter. The Last Resort. The man who gave you the beating of a lifetime. The man who proved he's not a one shot wonder. The man who proved he deserves to be champion. Ravager.
You fought valiantly. And if I thought I would understand a word of what you'd say, I'd invite you for a drink to discuss the future. But between your mangled Newfyese and and my complete contempt for you, I'd say it would be an awkward evening. So instead I'd suggest you stay home. Nurse your war wounds. Drink yourself into a coma. Whatever you do, just rest assured of one thing:
There's no shame in losing to the champ. There's only shame in not being able to back up your words. Better luck in the future.
Ravager."
Ravager finishes writing up his card, and takes it to the clerk.
Clerk: Um. You realize today is only the 25th, right?
Ravager: Yes. I'm just so busy right now. I have a match in TEAM coming up, and if I don't get this sent out now, I might forget.
Clerk: What if you lose?
Ravager: I'd be very embarrassed. I don't like being embarrassed, so I'll have to work doubly hard to make sure I win, won't I?
Clerk: Don't you think this'll motivate Rees more?
Ravager: What are you, a wrestling analyst?
Clerk: You ever go to Wrestlehut 2000 on the Something Awful forums? I post there daily.
Ravager: (rolling his eyes and muttering under his breath) (bleep)ing Smart marks. (out loud) Don't you think this'll motivate me as much as it'll motivate Rees?
Clerk: Why motivate Rees?
Ravager: Because when I still manage to beat him, I'll silence a lot of critics.
Clerk: If I were in your shoes...
Ravager: You'd be tapping out to the Conception Bay Chinlock. Because you're not a wrestler. You've never been in the ring. You've never had mind games played on you. Never played any mind games yourself. I know what I'm doing. I don't want to lose my title on my first defense. And I certainly don't want to lose it to Rees. Not after some of the crap he's pulled here. So would you please just concentrate on being a florist and fill a vase with those dead leaves you swept off the floor and send it and my card to this address!
Ravager hands her a card.
Clerk: You know, there's some poison ivy growing out back, I could include that as well.
Ravager: And here I thought you went and lost your tip.
Fade to Black.