Post by dbrunk01 on Apr 15, 2007 19:38:38 GMT -5
FADE IN.....
The Pool Deck at the Sutton Place Hotel in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada.
Dan Ryan is lying on a long fold out poolside chair. Behind him a large, wide pane of glass through which downtown Edmonton can be seen. Before him in this enclosed structure in a medium sized, cozy and warmly lit pool. Ryan's eyes are covered by dark glasses and he lies comfortable with his head back, never leaving this position.
Ryan: "Okay."
"Bruce Richards, I'm not one for theatrics. I've seen your stuff, formed opinions, thought it over and I'll get to you in a moment. I'm sure that if you watched the footage Sebastian Martyr sent in, you fully expect what's coming. So sit back, relax. I have a moron to address."
"Now then, Sebastian."
"Yoo hoo!! Sebastian!! It's this talking box with the moving pictures!! You done trying to figure out where the funny voice was comin' from? Count it.....one.....two......got it? Ok, good."
"Now then, Mr. Martyr..."
"Or can I call you Dr. Martyr?"
"Let's be perfectly clear with each other. Write it down if you need to, although I find it highly questionable whether or not your reading comprehension skills are any better than your auditory learning mechanisms."
"I don't discriminate against you for having an opinion. I discriminate against you for being a retard and for trying to pull off some sort of forced intellegince when clearly you have the mental capacity of a common sea slug."
"Once again, I have no intention, no need and no desire to prove anything to you whatsoever. Your complete inability to properly know your opponent is your problem to take care of, Doc - not mine. I'm not the one that has to live life with that ugly mug looking back at me from the mirror. Take care of your own research."
"Sadly, all of the information you have on me was gleaned from the booking portfolio faxed to you for this show."
"You have fighting abilities? What the (BLEEP)? Um, okay. I have fighting abilities, too. Ok TAG, YOU'RE IT!! Come on, nothing more? Is our game of 'random unnecessary retard posturing tag' over? Sucks, because I was hoping to get a chance to use 'I have big kneepads' and 'my elbow drop hurts'."
"I don't think I was invited here to get beat down by three rising superstars. Sadly, your attempt to try and rally the troops has woefully failed. Your brethren in NAPW aren't the slightest bit interested in joining up and doing your little kumbayah-let's-hug-then-build-a-fire-and-make-smores beatdown routine. Evidence number one was Richards' statements a couple days back. He gets it. On the other hand, you're so far away from getting it that it would take the light from 'it' about two million years just to get close enough to you for you to begin to dream about getting it."
"As for risk, I never worry about risk Sebastian. That's what makes me great. That what makes me known and what makes you some goof on the street, a wrestling former plastic surgeon who has some sort of mysterious life story that we're all supposed to give a shit about."
"Life is risk - learn that. If I concerned myself with my image every time I was asked to do a show, I'd hardly be where I am today - sitting here talking to you while you stain your pants over the oppurtunity just to be in the same ring with me. Everything to lose? Son, I could lose more than a dub like you could even dream up and still have enough stroke left over to snap my finger and be booked for a cool six figure paycheck."
"See, my legacy is established. My name is already legendary. I can win a thousand more belts in a thousand more companies and not raise my profile one bit. I am unique, Sebastian. I am a true living superstar whether you like it or not. And if anything, what will come of this is exactly what it was meant to be from the very beginning."
"I'm not stupid. You are, I'm not judging. It's okay. But I'm not. I'm a business man, a man who runs his own wrestling company and runs it well. I'm completely knowledgable in the concept of tit for tat, and in marketing."
"This is a tool. It's a tool not only to bring some notoriety to this company from a guy like me who stars in other locales, but it's a sign of cooperation between two companies with the possible future promise of working together in the future."
"The World Championship here, I'm sure is filled with a glorious history and is absolutely deserving of the utmost respect. But be absolutely assured that I have no interest in any involvement in the affairs of this company from an in-ring standpoint past this single event."
"The prospect of having to listen to you ramble on for hours at a time only makes that decision seem more correct with every passing day."
"As for a love of belts and money...."
Ryan laughs....
"Suddenly you're intimately familiar with my vices, are you? I could give you hours and you couldn't name more than two of those shiny belts that I've won without a trip over to the laptop and the use of google. You don't know a thing about me, and suddenly you're Sigmund Freud with the keys to my soul."
"How about you figure out who the (BLEEP) you are before you start trying to play psychoanalyst on me, eh Doc? Stick to plastic surgery. I don't think the practice of any sort of medicine that requires an actual brain or, you know....thought....would be your forte."
"Trust me, it's within my power as you say to help make this place famous. Of course, it's within the power of the people already here as well - but sure, I'll help. But the only thing you'll be famous for is for being that guy I verbally and physically decimated that one time I made an appearance here in good ol' Edmonton, Alberta, Canada."
"Good thing you have the name that you do, Martyr...because you're about to become NAPW's friendly sacrifice to me, the only wrestling God you've ever had the fortune of coming in contact with."
"And Bruce Richards...."
"I want to thank you. I want to thank you not only for your heartfelt welcome to NAPW but for also saving me from the thought swirling around inside my head. See, after a couple of those bits from our boy Sebastian over there I was contemplating ways of permanently ending my ability to hear. I thought also of scraping my eyeballs out of their sockets with a rusty fork, anything to end the misery of Doctor Sebastian Martyr, MD - plastic surgeon and analyst extraordinairre."
"I'd also like to thank you for getting it, because now - I don't have to spell it out."
"Your description of what this match means in the big picture is exactly right, and I completely respect that you wish to use it to further make a name for yourself on a grander scale as a test to show what you can do against someone who gets a lot of hype."
"But don't worry, Richards. I actually do know quite a bit about you already. You haven't been holed up in a cave, and as one half of one of the more dominant tag teams of the last year I'm fully versed on your run as one half of The New And Improved D-X. You managed to impress more than just the folks in your home federation, and I'm always watching."
"All of this.....this hype...it makes you want to beat me even more you say, and that's good. That's why I'll speak to you respectfully and reserve my disdain for Sebastian alone."
"Naturally, when the bell rings - there'll be a quick end to respect."
"For while I may be interested in putting on a good show for the fans, and while there is truly not much riding on the match itself - I can't do much other than go all out, minus any sort of personal animosity that would make a ten minute match become a five minute decapitation."
"But I'll sit back, allow you to further embarrass Doc Martyr...and come match time, give you a match you'll be proud to have been a part of. And once we're through, no matter the result?"
"I'll still be watching, Richards. Always, always watching...."
"Thanks for the welcome."
"Almost showtime...."
Ryan gives the appearance of a wink through his facial movements, with a clicking sound from the side of his mouth, then sighs and relaxes once more....
FADE OUT....
The Pool Deck at the Sutton Place Hotel in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada.
Dan Ryan is lying on a long fold out poolside chair. Behind him a large, wide pane of glass through which downtown Edmonton can be seen. Before him in this enclosed structure in a medium sized, cozy and warmly lit pool. Ryan's eyes are covered by dark glasses and he lies comfortable with his head back, never leaving this position.
Ryan: "Okay."
"Bruce Richards, I'm not one for theatrics. I've seen your stuff, formed opinions, thought it over and I'll get to you in a moment. I'm sure that if you watched the footage Sebastian Martyr sent in, you fully expect what's coming. So sit back, relax. I have a moron to address."
"Now then, Sebastian."
"Yoo hoo!! Sebastian!! It's this talking box with the moving pictures!! You done trying to figure out where the funny voice was comin' from? Count it.....one.....two......got it? Ok, good."
"Now then, Mr. Martyr..."
"Or can I call you Dr. Martyr?"
"Let's be perfectly clear with each other. Write it down if you need to, although I find it highly questionable whether or not your reading comprehension skills are any better than your auditory learning mechanisms."
"I don't discriminate against you for having an opinion. I discriminate against you for being a retard and for trying to pull off some sort of forced intellegince when clearly you have the mental capacity of a common sea slug."
"Once again, I have no intention, no need and no desire to prove anything to you whatsoever. Your complete inability to properly know your opponent is your problem to take care of, Doc - not mine. I'm not the one that has to live life with that ugly mug looking back at me from the mirror. Take care of your own research."
"Sadly, all of the information you have on me was gleaned from the booking portfolio faxed to you for this show."
"You have fighting abilities? What the (BLEEP)? Um, okay. I have fighting abilities, too. Ok TAG, YOU'RE IT!! Come on, nothing more? Is our game of 'random unnecessary retard posturing tag' over? Sucks, because I was hoping to get a chance to use 'I have big kneepads' and 'my elbow drop hurts'."
"I don't think I was invited here to get beat down by three rising superstars. Sadly, your attempt to try and rally the troops has woefully failed. Your brethren in NAPW aren't the slightest bit interested in joining up and doing your little kumbayah-let's-hug-then-build-a-fire-and-make-smores beatdown routine. Evidence number one was Richards' statements a couple days back. He gets it. On the other hand, you're so far away from getting it that it would take the light from 'it' about two million years just to get close enough to you for you to begin to dream about getting it."
"As for risk, I never worry about risk Sebastian. That's what makes me great. That what makes me known and what makes you some goof on the street, a wrestling former plastic surgeon who has some sort of mysterious life story that we're all supposed to give a shit about."
"Life is risk - learn that. If I concerned myself with my image every time I was asked to do a show, I'd hardly be where I am today - sitting here talking to you while you stain your pants over the oppurtunity just to be in the same ring with me. Everything to lose? Son, I could lose more than a dub like you could even dream up and still have enough stroke left over to snap my finger and be booked for a cool six figure paycheck."
"See, my legacy is established. My name is already legendary. I can win a thousand more belts in a thousand more companies and not raise my profile one bit. I am unique, Sebastian. I am a true living superstar whether you like it or not. And if anything, what will come of this is exactly what it was meant to be from the very beginning."
"I'm not stupid. You are, I'm not judging. It's okay. But I'm not. I'm a business man, a man who runs his own wrestling company and runs it well. I'm completely knowledgable in the concept of tit for tat, and in marketing."
"This is a tool. It's a tool not only to bring some notoriety to this company from a guy like me who stars in other locales, but it's a sign of cooperation between two companies with the possible future promise of working together in the future."
"The World Championship here, I'm sure is filled with a glorious history and is absolutely deserving of the utmost respect. But be absolutely assured that I have no interest in any involvement in the affairs of this company from an in-ring standpoint past this single event."
"The prospect of having to listen to you ramble on for hours at a time only makes that decision seem more correct with every passing day."
"As for a love of belts and money...."
Ryan laughs....
"Suddenly you're intimately familiar with my vices, are you? I could give you hours and you couldn't name more than two of those shiny belts that I've won without a trip over to the laptop and the use of google. You don't know a thing about me, and suddenly you're Sigmund Freud with the keys to my soul."
"How about you figure out who the (BLEEP) you are before you start trying to play psychoanalyst on me, eh Doc? Stick to plastic surgery. I don't think the practice of any sort of medicine that requires an actual brain or, you know....thought....would be your forte."
"Trust me, it's within my power as you say to help make this place famous. Of course, it's within the power of the people already here as well - but sure, I'll help. But the only thing you'll be famous for is for being that guy I verbally and physically decimated that one time I made an appearance here in good ol' Edmonton, Alberta, Canada."
"Good thing you have the name that you do, Martyr...because you're about to become NAPW's friendly sacrifice to me, the only wrestling God you've ever had the fortune of coming in contact with."
"And Bruce Richards...."
"I want to thank you. I want to thank you not only for your heartfelt welcome to NAPW but for also saving me from the thought swirling around inside my head. See, after a couple of those bits from our boy Sebastian over there I was contemplating ways of permanently ending my ability to hear. I thought also of scraping my eyeballs out of their sockets with a rusty fork, anything to end the misery of Doctor Sebastian Martyr, MD - plastic surgeon and analyst extraordinairre."
"I'd also like to thank you for getting it, because now - I don't have to spell it out."
"Your description of what this match means in the big picture is exactly right, and I completely respect that you wish to use it to further make a name for yourself on a grander scale as a test to show what you can do against someone who gets a lot of hype."
"But don't worry, Richards. I actually do know quite a bit about you already. You haven't been holed up in a cave, and as one half of one of the more dominant tag teams of the last year I'm fully versed on your run as one half of The New And Improved D-X. You managed to impress more than just the folks in your home federation, and I'm always watching."
"All of this.....this hype...it makes you want to beat me even more you say, and that's good. That's why I'll speak to you respectfully and reserve my disdain for Sebastian alone."
"Naturally, when the bell rings - there'll be a quick end to respect."
"For while I may be interested in putting on a good show for the fans, and while there is truly not much riding on the match itself - I can't do much other than go all out, minus any sort of personal animosity that would make a ten minute match become a five minute decapitation."
"But I'll sit back, allow you to further embarrass Doc Martyr...and come match time, give you a match you'll be proud to have been a part of. And once we're through, no matter the result?"
"I'll still be watching, Richards. Always, always watching...."
"Thanks for the welcome."
"Almost showtime...."
Ryan gives the appearance of a wink through his facial movements, with a clicking sound from the side of his mouth, then sighs and relaxes once more....
FADE OUT....