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Post by Stylin' Kyle Roberts [REBEL] on Mar 23, 2007 14:18:05 GMT -5
(You asked for it, you got it! We're done with cinema verite for this promo at least. Imagine this one as a slick, heavily-edited MTV promo. In the background, is a large lit-up white background, with "I Am" in large block font red letters running across it. Out walks a man dressed in a white, unbuttoned dress shirt and white pants. He's in silhouette due to the brightness of the sign behind him. The speech is in voiceover, and the statements slightly run over each other.)
V/O: I am six foot three, two hundred and fifty-five pounds.
(Cut to extreme close-up to the left side of the man's face. The bright light still overpowers, but in the hints of shadow, you can see a light goatee and smirk.)
V/O: I am twenty-six years old, and only beginning to hit my stride.
(Cut to a shot from behind, as the man looks over his shoulder.)
V/O: I am a five-time champion in NAPW, and have more gold on my walls than most people have individual hairs on their heads.
(Extreme close-up of his fist punching the open cup of his other hand.)
V/O: I am the most dominant man in pro wrestling. Monsters, shooters, and people who don't deserve to be in that ring have fallen at my feet. It didn't matter where they came from. And it didn't matter where they went after losing to me.
(Close-up of the upper head, finger tapping the temple underneath his close-cropped hair.)
V/O: I am smarter than you.
(Far-off shot of the man rushing towards the camera.)
V/O: I am faster than you.
(Close up of his finger smoothing out his eyebrow.)
V/O: I am CERTAINLY better-looking than you.
(Mid-shot, arms extended out in a raised position, as if he's posing for a crowd.)
V/O: I am the future of NAPW. I am the SAVIOR of the NAPW. I am a thresher that will cut through the chaff of lesser wrestlers to get to the pinnacle of the federation, holding the big belt. And once that happens? I will be your GOD!
(Extreme close-up of the face from the side. Through the sunglasses you can see a hint of his eyes. A glint reveals arrogance, disdain, and a little soupcon of madness.)
V/O: I am the man, baby. That's what I am. I'm a straight shooter with a master plan.
(From the side, the man strokes his chin in thought.)
V/O: I am the wrestler the fans come to see. They can't get enough of the big draw. And when I keep on beating chumps in the ring, it just gives them a reason to come back next time.
(From behind, a mid-shot.)
V/O: I am not well-liked. Not by the fans, not by other wrestlers. But, really? I could care less. (BLEEP) them. (BLEEP)'em all.
(And finally, as the intensity of the background lights dims, and light comes up to reveal our man for a better look, he speaks. No voiceover.)
MAN: I am Stylin' Kyle Roberts.
(He takes off his sunglasses.)
KYLE ROBERTS: And I will crush everyone I face in that ring. Just like I always do. It doesn't matter if it's Casino or Kryenik or Kurtis or Hanson. Or my old tag team partner, Bruce "The Beast" Richards. More often then not, I'm smarter than all of them. And I beat all of them.
You hear that, Bruce? I WILL beat you. You know why? Because I've got your number. I had you beating me to a pulp after my win over Chad Kurtis. I've got a bruise from the spear into the side of the ring. I've got two stitches on my temple that are healing quite nicely, thank you for asking. (Kyle points to a small flesh-coloured bandage on his head.) So yeah, I'm a little messed up. But look at the tapes, Bruce. Pause the action right after the Spit Heard 'Round the World. Look at your eyes. Look at the madness that I have caused. You threatened my life, Bruce.
Where's the calm, collected Richards? The man who was always analyzing everything in his detached manner? He wasn't anywhere near Moose Jaw on the final Tuesday Night Fights, was he? I am now in your mind, Bruce. I'm haunting you. That's how I know I'm going to beat you at Sole Survivor. Hell, Bruce, I've already won. Who had the upper hand on Tuesday? You're now my bitch.
Two weeks ago, I would have finished it right then in our little impromptu match after your fight with Grade A Chumpstains, but you had support in the hands of Bill Fleming and your precious little barbed-wire bat. Bring them to Sole Survivor, Bruce. If you think you're going to need backup against Kyle Roberts, then that's another ace in the hole for me, now, isn't it?
Whatever you bring to the ring doesn't matter, Bruce. Because I know that I can unleash your beast. And beasts can certainly be beat by Stylin' Kyle Roberts. Sam Finn was beat, and now he's flying airplanes. How a homeless Calgary kid was able to get into the U.S. Air Force, I have no (BLEEP)ing clue, but there you go. Greg Hanson was beat like a red-headed stepchild, and now he's one loss away from the Extreme Jobber title. And even if he won that, he'd still probably have a shorter title reign with it than he did that Television Title. Beasts are no problem, Bruce. Sure, they might hurt me, but they'll never beat me.
And once I beat you at Sole Survivor, I can move on to bigger and better things. Like winning that battle royal for a shot at the NAPW Title. The holy grail. Think about that, Bruce. Stylin' Kyle Roberts, NAPW Champion. It's got a ring to it, doesn't it? Finally, that belt would have an owner that would give it some instant prestige. It would have a worthy waist to rest on. Forget the previous holders, D!, Casino, Ravager, Devastation, Rees. A cavalcade of losers! It's all history, Bruce, and if there's one thing I'm focusing on, it's the future! And the future of Kyle Roberts involves winning the big prize!
But first, it's time to end the past. To me, you're a relic, Bruce. A reminder of better times, when the name of the New and Improved D-X was feared throughout the world! Back when we kicked ass and took belts, and didn't give a flying (BLEEP) about what anybody thought. I hear all this talk about how the New and Improved D-X is dead and gone. How I was the man who killed D-X with a few chair shots and a Beartamer. Everybody who says that is wrong. The spirit of D-X is not broken. It's just fallen on a single guy's shoulders. D-X is dead, Bruce? HELLS no! *I* am the New and Improved D-X, Bruce! It's been that way for a while, and I just decided to take it in the direction it needs to go! Life goes on, Bruce, and things evolve and change. You should THANK me for shaking up your life, Bruce! Haven't I given you a reason to live? Don't you feel alive again?
You're welcome. Now that I've given you a reason to change, to evolve, why don't you (BLEEP)ing DO something with your new chance? Stop living in the past, start to find your own future? While my future involves the NAPW Title, it sure as well doesn't involve Bruce "The Beast" Richards. Spread your wings and fly, Bruce! Fly the (BLEEP) away from me.
I am Kyle Roberts. I am the next NAPW champion.
(As Kyle lifts his arms like a benevolent king once more, the camera fades to black.)
V/O: I am six foot three, two hundred and fifty-five pounds.
(Cut to extreme close-up to the left side of the man's face. The bright light still overpowers, but in the hints of shadow, you can see a light goatee and smirk.)
V/O: I am twenty-six years old, and only beginning to hit my stride.
(Cut to a shot from behind, as the man looks over his shoulder.)
V/O: I am a five-time champion in NAPW, and have more gold on my walls than most people have individual hairs on their heads.
(Extreme close-up of his fist punching the open cup of his other hand.)
V/O: I am the most dominant man in pro wrestling. Monsters, shooters, and people who don't deserve to be in that ring have fallen at my feet. It didn't matter where they came from. And it didn't matter where they went after losing to me.
(Close-up of the upper head, finger tapping the temple underneath his close-cropped hair.)
V/O: I am smarter than you.
(Far-off shot of the man rushing towards the camera.)
V/O: I am faster than you.
(Close up of his finger smoothing out his eyebrow.)
V/O: I am CERTAINLY better-looking than you.
(Mid-shot, arms extended out in a raised position, as if he's posing for a crowd.)
V/O: I am the future of NAPW. I am the SAVIOR of the NAPW. I am a thresher that will cut through the chaff of lesser wrestlers to get to the pinnacle of the federation, holding the big belt. And once that happens? I will be your GOD!
(Extreme close-up of the face from the side. Through the sunglasses you can see a hint of his eyes. A glint reveals arrogance, disdain, and a little soupcon of madness.)
V/O: I am the man, baby. That's what I am. I'm a straight shooter with a master plan.
(From the side, the man strokes his chin in thought.)
V/O: I am the wrestler the fans come to see. They can't get enough of the big draw. And when I keep on beating chumps in the ring, it just gives them a reason to come back next time.
(From behind, a mid-shot.)
V/O: I am not well-liked. Not by the fans, not by other wrestlers. But, really? I could care less. (BLEEP) them. (BLEEP)'em all.
(And finally, as the intensity of the background lights dims, and light comes up to reveal our man for a better look, he speaks. No voiceover.)
MAN: I am Stylin' Kyle Roberts.
(He takes off his sunglasses.)
KYLE ROBERTS: And I will crush everyone I face in that ring. Just like I always do. It doesn't matter if it's Casino or Kryenik or Kurtis or Hanson. Or my old tag team partner, Bruce "The Beast" Richards. More often then not, I'm smarter than all of them. And I beat all of them.
You hear that, Bruce? I WILL beat you. You know why? Because I've got your number. I had you beating me to a pulp after my win over Chad Kurtis. I've got a bruise from the spear into the side of the ring. I've got two stitches on my temple that are healing quite nicely, thank you for asking. (Kyle points to a small flesh-coloured bandage on his head.) So yeah, I'm a little messed up. But look at the tapes, Bruce. Pause the action right after the Spit Heard 'Round the World. Look at your eyes. Look at the madness that I have caused. You threatened my life, Bruce.
Where's the calm, collected Richards? The man who was always analyzing everything in his detached manner? He wasn't anywhere near Moose Jaw on the final Tuesday Night Fights, was he? I am now in your mind, Bruce. I'm haunting you. That's how I know I'm going to beat you at Sole Survivor. Hell, Bruce, I've already won. Who had the upper hand on Tuesday? You're now my bitch.
Two weeks ago, I would have finished it right then in our little impromptu match after your fight with Grade A Chumpstains, but you had support in the hands of Bill Fleming and your precious little barbed-wire bat. Bring them to Sole Survivor, Bruce. If you think you're going to need backup against Kyle Roberts, then that's another ace in the hole for me, now, isn't it?
Whatever you bring to the ring doesn't matter, Bruce. Because I know that I can unleash your beast. And beasts can certainly be beat by Stylin' Kyle Roberts. Sam Finn was beat, and now he's flying airplanes. How a homeless Calgary kid was able to get into the U.S. Air Force, I have no (BLEEP)ing clue, but there you go. Greg Hanson was beat like a red-headed stepchild, and now he's one loss away from the Extreme Jobber title. And even if he won that, he'd still probably have a shorter title reign with it than he did that Television Title. Beasts are no problem, Bruce. Sure, they might hurt me, but they'll never beat me.
And once I beat you at Sole Survivor, I can move on to bigger and better things. Like winning that battle royal for a shot at the NAPW Title. The holy grail. Think about that, Bruce. Stylin' Kyle Roberts, NAPW Champion. It's got a ring to it, doesn't it? Finally, that belt would have an owner that would give it some instant prestige. It would have a worthy waist to rest on. Forget the previous holders, D!, Casino, Ravager, Devastation, Rees. A cavalcade of losers! It's all history, Bruce, and if there's one thing I'm focusing on, it's the future! And the future of Kyle Roberts involves winning the big prize!
But first, it's time to end the past. To me, you're a relic, Bruce. A reminder of better times, when the name of the New and Improved D-X was feared throughout the world! Back when we kicked ass and took belts, and didn't give a flying (BLEEP) about what anybody thought. I hear all this talk about how the New and Improved D-X is dead and gone. How I was the man who killed D-X with a few chair shots and a Beartamer. Everybody who says that is wrong. The spirit of D-X is not broken. It's just fallen on a single guy's shoulders. D-X is dead, Bruce? HELLS no! *I* am the New and Improved D-X, Bruce! It's been that way for a while, and I just decided to take it in the direction it needs to go! Life goes on, Bruce, and things evolve and change. You should THANK me for shaking up your life, Bruce! Haven't I given you a reason to live? Don't you feel alive again?
You're welcome. Now that I've given you a reason to change, to evolve, why don't you (BLEEP)ing DO something with your new chance? Stop living in the past, start to find your own future? While my future involves the NAPW Title, it sure as well doesn't involve Bruce "The Beast" Richards. Spread your wings and fly, Bruce! Fly the (BLEEP) away from me.
I am Kyle Roberts. I am the next NAPW champion.
(As Kyle lifts his arms like a benevolent king once more, the camera fades to black.)