Post by Simply Beautiful on Mar 11, 2007 9:05:01 GMT -5
“All the work I’ve put into this…what if I get turned back? Jesus, they’ve already signed Kryenik to a title match against Ravager – doesn’t anyone know I’ve got a title match in two days? And shit, I’m already signed to take on Rees again. They’re pushing me back down the ladder before I can even get a toe on the top rung. It just ain’t right man, I can’t figure this company out. I thought with Rex around maybe the opportunities would come a little easier. I mean, yeah, I got my shot on Tuesday. NAPW could schedule a million title matches for Ravager AFTER TNF this week but they still can’t take away mine. But where does that leave me if I win? A match with Kryenik two weeks later? At the same event where I’m not just in the Sole Survivor match, but potentially stepping in the ring with Lloyd (BLEEP)in’ Rees yet again? It’s like I’m being booked to lose so I don’t get in the “Chosen One’s” way of leading the damn charge against Casino. Well, that shit ain’t going down if it’s me involved. I don’t give a shit how bad this company wants Kryenik as champ – or how bad they want Ravager to be the torch passer. There’s a wild card in the mix, and that wild card is going to be the NAPW Champion when the dust settles on after Sole Survivor II.
And I HATE being a wild card.”
Fade in. A rooftop somewhere in Regina, Saskatchewan. A few seconds tick by. The wind kicks up a paper bag and blows if off into the horizon. Simply Beautiful steps onto the screen, dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt. His shades cover his eyes. He opens his mouth to speak…
Then a white, blinding light.
Flashback, 2001. – Madison Square Garden - New York City, New York
An iron blue door.
BAM.
It’s kicked open.
Voice: Cannon! Where are you, you son of a bitch?!?!?
Voice 2: Out of the way, chump. I ain’t got time for losers like you – UGH!
Chris Canon, the man who on this night has just become the GWF World Champion, tumbles into the room through the open doorway.
Voice: You got MY belt, Cannon!
The man who he stole it from walks through after him – Simply Beautiful.
SB: You wanna beat ME for it? Fight me right now yah little shit! Let’s see how (BLEEP)in’ tough you are now!
Canon won the belt in a most peculiar way. It was a tag match. SB – and his then best friend and stablemate Chris Cannon – taking on SB and his nemeses, the tag team champions The Devil’s Angels. Whoever got the pin got SB’s GWF title. Cannon was only supposed to be back-up, as the original match was a handicap bout.
And then – greed got the best of him. He covered Angel Gruff, and became only the seventh ever GWF champion.
Canon rises to his feet.
Canon: (BLEEP) you man – you were holding me back! You wanna fight? Go (BLEEP) yer mother, I don’t need to prove shit to no one! I’m the champ, (BLEEP)! I run this show now, you understand me?
BAM. SB floors him with a right hook. He picks up the belt, and holds it right in Cannon’s face. He gets in close, mere inches away from his old friend. Eye to eye.
SB: You stabbed me in the back, you bastard. Next week…I stab you in the front and take this back.
He spits in his face and drapes the title over his chest before walking off. A classic GWF shot of the “champion” laid out on the arena floor before
SNAP.
Present day.
SB holds his hands out, and snaps his fingers.
SB: That’s how fast it can go down. Your best friend in this world can turn on ya, change everything. We were the High Rollers. We were the best damn stable on the indie scene, bar none. And he threw it all away. Over what? The chance to be top dog. It seems that’s all people ever want in this business. Anything less than bein’ the Champ, and it’s like your career don’t even matter. Shit, a guy I grew up with took my belt like a thief in the night! Whatta ya think other guys’d do to get their hands on a belt like the NAPW Championship? I should be a stone cold (BLEEP)in’ killer, shouldn’t I? Ready to rip ol’ Ravy’s heart out and eat it for that thing. Maybe use a briefcase like Casino…or a Kendo Stick like Evan.
Well, I ain’t that guy. I’m no angel. But I ain’t Chris Canon, neither. I don’t need to stab you in the back, Ravager. You may think I’m not good enough. I say I am. You tell me I’m not ready? I was born fightin’, what makes you think I’m not prepared for your worst? You underestimate me, Ravy. I won’t return the favor. But I’ll promise you one thing. Unlike me, when I lost my belt. You’ll know exactly what hit you. And I won’t steal it – oh no. I’ll look right in your eyes when I do it, and smile. Clean.
One, two three. Three slams on the mat to sound the end of your title run. You wanna keep harping on your long road back to the top? History repeats itself, as cliché as that may sound. You’re hot now, but you were hot heading into Sole Survivor last year. And sure, no one pinned you or made you submit – but you didn’t pin or submit anybody either. And if you can’t do that to save your title, you’re no champ anyways. And look at you know, Ravy. You’re riding high. For all intents and purposes, you’re on top of the freakin’ world. Or at least our little world. The fans got your back again. You’re numero uno. But history…that naggin’ bitch it is…is already starting to repeat itself, ain’t it? I can hear the screeching tires headed towards the crash your title run is gonna suffer Tuesday Night already. And you know who’s fault it’s gonna be when you drop that belt? Yours. No Casino’s. Not Rees’. And not Rex’s. You can only look into the mirror and say that SB was, and IS, the better man. You think I’m gonna fight you twice with this reverant bullshit? Like it’s such a God damn honor just to be in the ring with you?
(BLEEP) THAT SHIT. Like I said, history repeats itself. Mr. Hardened veteran meets hotshot newcomer – same set-up as Rex taking that belt off of you last year, wouldn’t you say? (whispers) You’re gonna crack Ravy, I can feel it. How long can you put on the charade when I’m beating you to a pulp? (normal voice) Truth is, you’re in for more than you bargained for. You’ve got your head in the clouds, chasing after Untouchables and Kryenik when you should be worried about ME. And yeah, you’ll say I’m all that’s on your mind. You’ll spit out all the politically correct bullshit, you’ll praise me as the “next” big thing. It’ll look to everyone else that you’ve really got your head in the game. (SB taps his head with his index finger) But I’ll know better. You ain’t ready for me, Ravager. You think I’m the same guy you beat in January? You’re wrong. Think I don’t have a chance? (BLEEP) you, I’m the favorite in my mind. And I know you feel history breathing down your neck. You’ll look at my face in the ring and see Caliber, see D!, Devastation, Casino…even Minstrel. And you’ll know that your past is indeed calling you back home. Ravager, the tragic anti-hero, is gonna fall once more before his time. It ain’t opinion, it’s certainty.
SB walks over to the ledge, and looks down – 10 stories down. A few cars go by, it’s not very busy at 8 am after all…
SB: Tuesday night, I walk into Regina as just a wrestler with a dream. When I walk out, I walk out the Champion. Nothing. (turns around to face the camera, eyes, like cold stones) And I mean nothing - is gonna stop me.
Fade out.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fade in. SB back in his hotel room, a few hours later. He’s watching film from his loss to Ravager yet again.
SB: He’s not using the Muscle Buster much anymore…gotta remember that.
Cut to his face, the light from the projection on the wall flashing off of it.
SB: OK, here comes the lariat – (BLEEP)! How did I let that hit me?
A knock on the door.
SB hits the pause button and looks up.
SB: Yeah?
Voice: Man, open up. It’s Brian.
SB: What is it man? I’m busy right now?
Bruno: (sarcastic) What, you watchin’ film again? Man, open the door. This shit’s important.
SB gets up, hits the lights, and walks over to let Bruno in. No sooner than he twists the knob does Brian barrel right into the room. He looks around rapidly, his eyes bloodshot. He heads over to the window and draws the curtain.
Bruno: They're chasin’ me man.
SB: What? Who?
Bruno: Cops man. They sayin’ – you been watchin’ the news?
SB: All I’ve been doing is training. I got no idea what’s goin’ on, they don’t even bring a paper to your door unless you pay extra for it.
Bruno: Look man – people are gonna be sayin’ some (BLEEP)ed up shit about me. I just wanna let you know it ain’true, you feel me?
SB: What are you talkin’ about, Bri? What happened?
Bruno: Nothin’, I just gotta lay low for a while. Anyone asks, you ain’t seen me. You didn’t even see me just now, and you didn’t drive up with me, you dig?
SB: Bri, I can’t…
Bruno: I need your help dog. This is some serious shit – but I’m innocent, you feel me?
SB: I have no clue what you’re talking about.
Bruno: I had a dream the other night I beat three people almost to death in an alley.
SB: WHAT?
Bruno: It was just a dream, relax. But…it felt so real…I turn on Channel 9, and there’s my black ass on the screen, listed as the perp in some crime I didn’t commit. Three people DID get beat in an alley the other night. Bad. They’re all gonna make it, but God DAMN. Did I do that?
SB: Brian…I mean, just because you had a dream. It – it’s a coincidence. Just give the police your alibi, and everything will check out.
Bruno: You think they gonna listen to a wrestler with a history of anger problems? (BLEEP) that. Besides…they got evidence.
SB: EVIDENCE? Whoa! You’re not telling me you DID this, are you? Come on Brian, please tell me you aren’t really crazy.
Bruno looks at him, obviously hurt. He turns away.
Bruno: You don’t call me crazy man. Anyone else, (BLEEP) 'em. But you? I thought I could come here and you’d help me out. Now you’re accusing me –
SB: Hold the god damn phone! No one accused you of anything! I ASKED you a question.
Bruno: (whips around) Oh yeah? How many best friends regularly tell their best friends that they MAY have committed several felonies?
SB: Wouldn’t you (BLEEP)ing KNOW if you did? It isn’t that hard to remember pounding some homeless guy into the ground!
Bruno: … What’d you just say?
SB: What? When?
Bruno: Just now. Beating who into the ground?
SB: Some guy. You said you think you beat some guy –
Bruno: You already knew about this, didn’t you?
SB: Brian, no –
Bruno: I’m outta here. You think I’m a criminal? Who needs you!
Bruno turns to leave, and opens the door. SB slams it shut in his face, keeping him from leaving.
SB: You lost your (BLEEP)ing mind? The police are after your ass like no one’s business. Now what’s all this video evidence of you if you haven’t done anything?
Bruno: You see that video quality? And all the damn fog and rain? That coulda been any other mother(BLEEP)er that looks like me! All you can tell is the guy is black! But a couple of NAPW fans say it looks like me, and now I’m a wanted (BLEEP)in’ man!
SB: Bri…it does look kinda like you. Not saying it is, but Jesus. Bald. Black. Wearing your wrestling gear. What time did they say this all happened?
Bruno: 3 PM on Thursday.
SB: Wait…you were with me!
Bruno: NO SHIT! That’s why I came here. You gotta come down to the precinct with me.
SB shakes his head, bewildered.
SB: Bri…I have an NAPW Title match in two days. I need to get the rest of my work in.
Bruno: Just come down with me, Jesus (BLEEP)ING Christ! I’m gonna go to FED back in the states, I don’t have citizenship! You can’t do this to me man.
SB: Look, just stay here. I’ll protect you as long as I can, okay? But we can’t go to the cops right now, they’ll arrest you on sight. Let’s lay low for a few days, then head down and clear your name.
Bruno: (breathing easier) Ok…ok. Let’s do that.
SB: Alright, let’s order somethin’ to eat. Chinese?
Bruno: (nervous laugh) Shit makes me sick, man.
SB: Alright, I’ll order a pizza.
Bruno: Guinea.
SB: Up yours.
As the scene comes to a close, we’re left with the question…just what IS going on with Brian Bruno…and why does SB seem to be the only one who hasn’t turned on him?
Fade to black.
And I HATE being a wild card.”
Fade in. A rooftop somewhere in Regina, Saskatchewan. A few seconds tick by. The wind kicks up a paper bag and blows if off into the horizon. Simply Beautiful steps onto the screen, dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt. His shades cover his eyes. He opens his mouth to speak…
Then a white, blinding light.
Flashback, 2001. – Madison Square Garden - New York City, New York
An iron blue door.
BAM.
It’s kicked open.
Voice: Cannon! Where are you, you son of a bitch?!?!?
Voice 2: Out of the way, chump. I ain’t got time for losers like you – UGH!
Chris Canon, the man who on this night has just become the GWF World Champion, tumbles into the room through the open doorway.
Voice: You got MY belt, Cannon!
The man who he stole it from walks through after him – Simply Beautiful.
SB: You wanna beat ME for it? Fight me right now yah little shit! Let’s see how (BLEEP)in’ tough you are now!
Canon won the belt in a most peculiar way. It was a tag match. SB – and his then best friend and stablemate Chris Cannon – taking on SB and his nemeses, the tag team champions The Devil’s Angels. Whoever got the pin got SB’s GWF title. Cannon was only supposed to be back-up, as the original match was a handicap bout.
And then – greed got the best of him. He covered Angel Gruff, and became only the seventh ever GWF champion.
Canon rises to his feet.
Canon: (BLEEP) you man – you were holding me back! You wanna fight? Go (BLEEP) yer mother, I don’t need to prove shit to no one! I’m the champ, (BLEEP)! I run this show now, you understand me?
BAM. SB floors him with a right hook. He picks up the belt, and holds it right in Cannon’s face. He gets in close, mere inches away from his old friend. Eye to eye.
SB: You stabbed me in the back, you bastard. Next week…I stab you in the front and take this back.
He spits in his face and drapes the title over his chest before walking off. A classic GWF shot of the “champion” laid out on the arena floor before
SNAP.
Present day.
SB holds his hands out, and snaps his fingers.
SB: That’s how fast it can go down. Your best friend in this world can turn on ya, change everything. We were the High Rollers. We were the best damn stable on the indie scene, bar none. And he threw it all away. Over what? The chance to be top dog. It seems that’s all people ever want in this business. Anything less than bein’ the Champ, and it’s like your career don’t even matter. Shit, a guy I grew up with took my belt like a thief in the night! Whatta ya think other guys’d do to get their hands on a belt like the NAPW Championship? I should be a stone cold (BLEEP)in’ killer, shouldn’t I? Ready to rip ol’ Ravy’s heart out and eat it for that thing. Maybe use a briefcase like Casino…or a Kendo Stick like Evan.
Well, I ain’t that guy. I’m no angel. But I ain’t Chris Canon, neither. I don’t need to stab you in the back, Ravager. You may think I’m not good enough. I say I am. You tell me I’m not ready? I was born fightin’, what makes you think I’m not prepared for your worst? You underestimate me, Ravy. I won’t return the favor. But I’ll promise you one thing. Unlike me, when I lost my belt. You’ll know exactly what hit you. And I won’t steal it – oh no. I’ll look right in your eyes when I do it, and smile. Clean.
One, two three. Three slams on the mat to sound the end of your title run. You wanna keep harping on your long road back to the top? History repeats itself, as cliché as that may sound. You’re hot now, but you were hot heading into Sole Survivor last year. And sure, no one pinned you or made you submit – but you didn’t pin or submit anybody either. And if you can’t do that to save your title, you’re no champ anyways. And look at you know, Ravy. You’re riding high. For all intents and purposes, you’re on top of the freakin’ world. Or at least our little world. The fans got your back again. You’re numero uno. But history…that naggin’ bitch it is…is already starting to repeat itself, ain’t it? I can hear the screeching tires headed towards the crash your title run is gonna suffer Tuesday Night already. And you know who’s fault it’s gonna be when you drop that belt? Yours. No Casino’s. Not Rees’. And not Rex’s. You can only look into the mirror and say that SB was, and IS, the better man. You think I’m gonna fight you twice with this reverant bullshit? Like it’s such a God damn honor just to be in the ring with you?
(BLEEP) THAT SHIT. Like I said, history repeats itself. Mr. Hardened veteran meets hotshot newcomer – same set-up as Rex taking that belt off of you last year, wouldn’t you say? (whispers) You’re gonna crack Ravy, I can feel it. How long can you put on the charade when I’m beating you to a pulp? (normal voice) Truth is, you’re in for more than you bargained for. You’ve got your head in the clouds, chasing after Untouchables and Kryenik when you should be worried about ME. And yeah, you’ll say I’m all that’s on your mind. You’ll spit out all the politically correct bullshit, you’ll praise me as the “next” big thing. It’ll look to everyone else that you’ve really got your head in the game. (SB taps his head with his index finger) But I’ll know better. You ain’t ready for me, Ravager. You think I’m the same guy you beat in January? You’re wrong. Think I don’t have a chance? (BLEEP) you, I’m the favorite in my mind. And I know you feel history breathing down your neck. You’ll look at my face in the ring and see Caliber, see D!, Devastation, Casino…even Minstrel. And you’ll know that your past is indeed calling you back home. Ravager, the tragic anti-hero, is gonna fall once more before his time. It ain’t opinion, it’s certainty.
SB walks over to the ledge, and looks down – 10 stories down. A few cars go by, it’s not very busy at 8 am after all…
SB: Tuesday night, I walk into Regina as just a wrestler with a dream. When I walk out, I walk out the Champion. Nothing. (turns around to face the camera, eyes, like cold stones) And I mean nothing - is gonna stop me.
Fade out.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fade in. SB back in his hotel room, a few hours later. He’s watching film from his loss to Ravager yet again.
SB: He’s not using the Muscle Buster much anymore…gotta remember that.
Cut to his face, the light from the projection on the wall flashing off of it.
SB: OK, here comes the lariat – (BLEEP)! How did I let that hit me?
A knock on the door.
SB hits the pause button and looks up.
SB: Yeah?
Voice: Man, open up. It’s Brian.
SB: What is it man? I’m busy right now?
Bruno: (sarcastic) What, you watchin’ film again? Man, open the door. This shit’s important.
SB gets up, hits the lights, and walks over to let Bruno in. No sooner than he twists the knob does Brian barrel right into the room. He looks around rapidly, his eyes bloodshot. He heads over to the window and draws the curtain.
Bruno: They're chasin’ me man.
SB: What? Who?
Bruno: Cops man. They sayin’ – you been watchin’ the news?
SB: All I’ve been doing is training. I got no idea what’s goin’ on, they don’t even bring a paper to your door unless you pay extra for it.
Bruno: Look man – people are gonna be sayin’ some (BLEEP)ed up shit about me. I just wanna let you know it ain’true, you feel me?
SB: What are you talkin’ about, Bri? What happened?
Bruno: Nothin’, I just gotta lay low for a while. Anyone asks, you ain’t seen me. You didn’t even see me just now, and you didn’t drive up with me, you dig?
SB: Bri, I can’t…
Bruno: I need your help dog. This is some serious shit – but I’m innocent, you feel me?
SB: I have no clue what you’re talking about.
Bruno: I had a dream the other night I beat three people almost to death in an alley.
SB: WHAT?
Bruno: It was just a dream, relax. But…it felt so real…I turn on Channel 9, and there’s my black ass on the screen, listed as the perp in some crime I didn’t commit. Three people DID get beat in an alley the other night. Bad. They’re all gonna make it, but God DAMN. Did I do that?
SB: Brian…I mean, just because you had a dream. It – it’s a coincidence. Just give the police your alibi, and everything will check out.
Bruno: You think they gonna listen to a wrestler with a history of anger problems? (BLEEP) that. Besides…they got evidence.
SB: EVIDENCE? Whoa! You’re not telling me you DID this, are you? Come on Brian, please tell me you aren’t really crazy.
Bruno looks at him, obviously hurt. He turns away.
Bruno: You don’t call me crazy man. Anyone else, (BLEEP) 'em. But you? I thought I could come here and you’d help me out. Now you’re accusing me –
SB: Hold the god damn phone! No one accused you of anything! I ASKED you a question.
Bruno: (whips around) Oh yeah? How many best friends regularly tell their best friends that they MAY have committed several felonies?
SB: Wouldn’t you (BLEEP)ing KNOW if you did? It isn’t that hard to remember pounding some homeless guy into the ground!
Bruno: … What’d you just say?
SB: What? When?
Bruno: Just now. Beating who into the ground?
SB: Some guy. You said you think you beat some guy –
Bruno: You already knew about this, didn’t you?
SB: Brian, no –
Bruno: I’m outta here. You think I’m a criminal? Who needs you!
Bruno turns to leave, and opens the door. SB slams it shut in his face, keeping him from leaving.
SB: You lost your (BLEEP)ing mind? The police are after your ass like no one’s business. Now what’s all this video evidence of you if you haven’t done anything?
Bruno: You see that video quality? And all the damn fog and rain? That coulda been any other mother(BLEEP)er that looks like me! All you can tell is the guy is black! But a couple of NAPW fans say it looks like me, and now I’m a wanted (BLEEP)in’ man!
SB: Bri…it does look kinda like you. Not saying it is, but Jesus. Bald. Black. Wearing your wrestling gear. What time did they say this all happened?
Bruno: 3 PM on Thursday.
SB: Wait…you were with me!
Bruno: NO SHIT! That’s why I came here. You gotta come down to the precinct with me.
SB shakes his head, bewildered.
SB: Bri…I have an NAPW Title match in two days. I need to get the rest of my work in.
Bruno: Just come down with me, Jesus (BLEEP)ING Christ! I’m gonna go to FED back in the states, I don’t have citizenship! You can’t do this to me man.
SB: Look, just stay here. I’ll protect you as long as I can, okay? But we can’t go to the cops right now, they’ll arrest you on sight. Let’s lay low for a few days, then head down and clear your name.
Bruno: (breathing easier) Ok…ok. Let’s do that.
SB: Alright, let’s order somethin’ to eat. Chinese?
Bruno: (nervous laugh) Shit makes me sick, man.
SB: Alright, I’ll order a pizza.
Bruno: Guinea.
SB: Up yours.
As the scene comes to a close, we’re left with the question…just what IS going on with Brian Bruno…and why does SB seem to be the only one who hasn’t turned on him?
Fade to black.