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Post by Stylin' Kyle Roberts [REBEL] on Mar 9, 2007 3:28:12 GMT -5
(The Lux steakhouse. We follow a waiter as he brings a very large glass of some light amber liquid to a table. At this table? Stylin' Kyle Roberts, dressed to impress and ready to eat.)
WAITER: Your Stella Artois.
KYLE ROBERTS: Thank you.
WAITER: Are you ready to order?
KYLE ROBERTS: (glancing at the menu) Yes, could I start off with the Onion Rings, and then you might as well get me the Lollipop Ribeye.
WAITER: Hungry today?
KYLE ROBERTS: Look, pal, if I think I can handle a twenty-two ounce steak, I'll order it. And I WILL order the big ribeye.
WAITER: Of course. Sorry, sir.
KYLE ROBERTS: Hey, it's cool.
(The waiter exits. Kyle looks at the camera, takes a gulp of his beer, and clears his throat.)
KYLE ROBERTS: Gee, Greg. It looks like I was transparent this entire time. You saw right through my cunning ruse. It turns out that, every thing I've done here in the NAPW, whether it was become a five-time champion, beat my opponents left and right, or have the biggest (BLEEP)ing epiphany and turn on Bruce Richards, every little thing I've done was to IMPRESS you!
And now I find out that you're not impressed? I spent a year and a half trying to make myself worthy in your eyes, Greg! Sixteen months! All for what? Nothing? Man, Greg, you really know how to hurt somebody, don't you? I've got a tear in my eye here! WHAT must I DO to please the almighty Gregory Hanson?
(Kyle makes a boo boo face, and then chuckles.)
KYLE ROBERTS: You think I care, Greg? You think I really give a rat's ass about what you think about me? You're nothing, Greg! You're a little footnote to MY career. The footnote that says "Kyle Roberts made this bitch tap to the Beartamer, and he just wouldn't let go!" I've got to admit, you happened to get my notice somehow. I'm not sure how, really. Maybe it was your pathetic little promo about how you were beat by the better man, but that you deserved a chance to redeem yourself in your own hometown.
And now you happened to wake the dragon, Greg. I took a good look at you threatening Rex Caliber, right there on the Internet, and I thought to myself. "Bigger than Bruce Richards? Check. Meaner than Bruce Richards? Well, sure, when he APPLIES himself, check. Smarter than Bruce Richards? Heh. Well, two out of three isn't TOO bad, I guess." I took a look at you and decided that you were sufficient -- not good, but adequate, Greg -- to give me a bit of a warmup. See exactly what I'm dealing with when I take on my old tag partner at Sole Survivor II in Toronto, Ontario!
And, man, what would be more of icing on the cake than embarrassing the hell out of you in your adopted hometown of Regina, Saskatchewan? Let's face it, Greg, sure, the fans MIGHT be smart enough to cheer me out there. Hey, if they do, I would be very impressed by the intelligence of that Saskatchewan crowd. They very well might boo you more, but it's not because you're doing evil, nasty things to your opponents, it's because you just plain suck. You know, now that I think about it, you in all your sad-assed splendor might be the most fitting representation for ol' Pile O' Bones. Because Regina sucks too.
Cheer up, Greg, you're not completely a bad influence on Regina. In fact, I do hear that since you moved into town, Regina has actually managed to lose the honour of being the homicide capital of Canada. Used to be that Regina had the highest number of murders per capita. Bigger than Montreal, more than Vancouver, hell, they were even beating Toronto for that distinction. But ever since they found that that Gregory "The Nightmare" Hanson was going to represent them in NAPW, they stopped shooting each other and started turning the gun on themselves! Problem solved!
I know your problem, Greg. Your biggest fault is that you believe your own hype. You're the (BLEEP)ed Dream Demon, a Nightmare in human form, right? You won't rest until you Dreamcatch them, and pin them in that ring, one, two, three. Pardon me if I don't bow down to you, Greg, because the way I see it, the only nightmare I'm seeing is your ever-worsening win/loss record. What happened to that oh-so-impressive two and oh record you had in January, Greg? Four and five? You're a step below five hundred, now, Hanson. You lost your Television title after one freakin' week. I'm sorry if I don't seem scared of your drive, your passion. It's hard to be frightened when I'm certain that after you face me, you go down even further into loser-ville.
(Kyle drinks from his mug and smacks his lips.)
KYLE ROBERTS: Deelicious! Don't get me wrong, Greg, it's not like you're the only one with a lame gimmick. I don't cotton to many of the wrestlers' personas out there. You think Bob Ravager's ACTUALLY a hitman for hire? Please. You think Prince Darko's actually royalty? Sure, if you think that Ohio happens to be its own monarchy. Chris Casino! He can't REALLY be an insufferable jerkwad, do you? (Kyle strokes his goatee in thought.) No, wait, that one's real. No, Greg, I'm a man who believes in the adage "What you see is what you get." And when you see Kyle Roberts, you get style. You get class. You get utter brilliance in that wrestling ring. I can outthink you. I can outrun you. And I sure as hell can outwrestle you.
Right now, Greg, I'm focusing on the positives in life. Sure, my girlfriend left me, but we're working on that, just as soon as she starts answering her cell phone. I'm left without any form of support, because, well, my tag team partner, understandably, hates me. So does his girlfriend. Hell, these days, I can't even count on Joey Malone! But, step by step, I'm learning all about my own empowerment. I'm taking chances now, I'm going for what I deserve: the NAPW Title. And after I beat you, after I beat Bruce, I'm going to beat twenty-eight other men for the chance to win the biggest belt in Alberta. I'm not ignoring you or looking beyond you, Greg, I'm just stating the plain truth. Because, I, Kyle Roberts, am living the dream! Nobody but number one, baby! I'm finally taking what's mine.
(The waiter comes by with a steak the size of an infant, and Kyle tucks his napkin onto his lap.)
KYLE ROBERTS: And on March 13th, what I'm taking is a victory over Greg Hanson. I'll take your pride and dignity, Greg, and, just like this luscious ribeye, I'll bite into it like a great white into a seal.
(As Kyle ignores the camera and starts digging into his meal, we fade to black.)
WAITER: Your Stella Artois.
KYLE ROBERTS: Thank you.
WAITER: Are you ready to order?
KYLE ROBERTS: (glancing at the menu) Yes, could I start off with the Onion Rings, and then you might as well get me the Lollipop Ribeye.
WAITER: Hungry today?
KYLE ROBERTS: Look, pal, if I think I can handle a twenty-two ounce steak, I'll order it. And I WILL order the big ribeye.
WAITER: Of course. Sorry, sir.
KYLE ROBERTS: Hey, it's cool.
(The waiter exits. Kyle looks at the camera, takes a gulp of his beer, and clears his throat.)
KYLE ROBERTS: Gee, Greg. It looks like I was transparent this entire time. You saw right through my cunning ruse. It turns out that, every thing I've done here in the NAPW, whether it was become a five-time champion, beat my opponents left and right, or have the biggest (BLEEP)ing epiphany and turn on Bruce Richards, every little thing I've done was to IMPRESS you!
And now I find out that you're not impressed? I spent a year and a half trying to make myself worthy in your eyes, Greg! Sixteen months! All for what? Nothing? Man, Greg, you really know how to hurt somebody, don't you? I've got a tear in my eye here! WHAT must I DO to please the almighty Gregory Hanson?
(Kyle makes a boo boo face, and then chuckles.)
KYLE ROBERTS: You think I care, Greg? You think I really give a rat's ass about what you think about me? You're nothing, Greg! You're a little footnote to MY career. The footnote that says "Kyle Roberts made this bitch tap to the Beartamer, and he just wouldn't let go!" I've got to admit, you happened to get my notice somehow. I'm not sure how, really. Maybe it was your pathetic little promo about how you were beat by the better man, but that you deserved a chance to redeem yourself in your own hometown.
And now you happened to wake the dragon, Greg. I took a good look at you threatening Rex Caliber, right there on the Internet, and I thought to myself. "Bigger than Bruce Richards? Check. Meaner than Bruce Richards? Well, sure, when he APPLIES himself, check. Smarter than Bruce Richards? Heh. Well, two out of three isn't TOO bad, I guess." I took a look at you and decided that you were sufficient -- not good, but adequate, Greg -- to give me a bit of a warmup. See exactly what I'm dealing with when I take on my old tag partner at Sole Survivor II in Toronto, Ontario!
And, man, what would be more of icing on the cake than embarrassing the hell out of you in your adopted hometown of Regina, Saskatchewan? Let's face it, Greg, sure, the fans MIGHT be smart enough to cheer me out there. Hey, if they do, I would be very impressed by the intelligence of that Saskatchewan crowd. They very well might boo you more, but it's not because you're doing evil, nasty things to your opponents, it's because you just plain suck. You know, now that I think about it, you in all your sad-assed splendor might be the most fitting representation for ol' Pile O' Bones. Because Regina sucks too.
Cheer up, Greg, you're not completely a bad influence on Regina. In fact, I do hear that since you moved into town, Regina has actually managed to lose the honour of being the homicide capital of Canada. Used to be that Regina had the highest number of murders per capita. Bigger than Montreal, more than Vancouver, hell, they were even beating Toronto for that distinction. But ever since they found that that Gregory "The Nightmare" Hanson was going to represent them in NAPW, they stopped shooting each other and started turning the gun on themselves! Problem solved!
I know your problem, Greg. Your biggest fault is that you believe your own hype. You're the (BLEEP)ed Dream Demon, a Nightmare in human form, right? You won't rest until you Dreamcatch them, and pin them in that ring, one, two, three. Pardon me if I don't bow down to you, Greg, because the way I see it, the only nightmare I'm seeing is your ever-worsening win/loss record. What happened to that oh-so-impressive two and oh record you had in January, Greg? Four and five? You're a step below five hundred, now, Hanson. You lost your Television title after one freakin' week. I'm sorry if I don't seem scared of your drive, your passion. It's hard to be frightened when I'm certain that after you face me, you go down even further into loser-ville.
(Kyle drinks from his mug and smacks his lips.)
KYLE ROBERTS: Deelicious! Don't get me wrong, Greg, it's not like you're the only one with a lame gimmick. I don't cotton to many of the wrestlers' personas out there. You think Bob Ravager's ACTUALLY a hitman for hire? Please. You think Prince Darko's actually royalty? Sure, if you think that Ohio happens to be its own monarchy. Chris Casino! He can't REALLY be an insufferable jerkwad, do you? (Kyle strokes his goatee in thought.) No, wait, that one's real. No, Greg, I'm a man who believes in the adage "What you see is what you get." And when you see Kyle Roberts, you get style. You get class. You get utter brilliance in that wrestling ring. I can outthink you. I can outrun you. And I sure as hell can outwrestle you.
Right now, Greg, I'm focusing on the positives in life. Sure, my girlfriend left me, but we're working on that, just as soon as she starts answering her cell phone. I'm left without any form of support, because, well, my tag team partner, understandably, hates me. So does his girlfriend. Hell, these days, I can't even count on Joey Malone! But, step by step, I'm learning all about my own empowerment. I'm taking chances now, I'm going for what I deserve: the NAPW Title. And after I beat you, after I beat Bruce, I'm going to beat twenty-eight other men for the chance to win the biggest belt in Alberta. I'm not ignoring you or looking beyond you, Greg, I'm just stating the plain truth. Because, I, Kyle Roberts, am living the dream! Nobody but number one, baby! I'm finally taking what's mine.
(The waiter comes by with a steak the size of an infant, and Kyle tucks his napkin onto his lap.)
KYLE ROBERTS: And on March 13th, what I'm taking is a victory over Greg Hanson. I'll take your pride and dignity, Greg, and, just like this luscious ribeye, I'll bite into it like a great white into a seal.
(As Kyle ignores the camera and starts digging into his meal, we fade to black.)