Post by maniac on Dec 29, 2005 16:49:12 GMT -5
<<<<SCENE>>>>
RECEPTIONIST: Can I help you?
MICHAEL THOMAS: Yes… [looking at her name tag] Noelle. I’m here to see Mr. Shirazi, I have an appointment with him.
NOELLE: Ah yes, you must be Michael Thomas.
MICHAEL THOMAS: Mike.
NOELLE: I’m sorry?
MICHAEL THOMAS: Call me Mike.
NOELLE: Well Mike, it seems you’re a tiny bit early.
MICHAEL THOMAS: You know what they say…if you’re on time you’re late.
NOELLE: [smiling] You’re cute…listen, I’m not supposed to do this, but umm…
MICHAEL THOMAS: Then don’t…allow me. Could I have your card…for uhh….business purposes, of course.
NOELLE:You sure can…but there’s no need to be sneaky about it, I just didn’t want to be unprofessional. It’s my first day.
MICHAEL THOMAS: Gotcha. So can I call around…seven’ish tonight? Maybe I could take you out to dinner…
NOELLE: Sounds like a date to me.
[That’s when she smiled that mesmerizing smile and sent me up to sign the contract that changed my life. Maybe it was fate; maybe it was mere chance. But ever since I walked through that revolving door at the MWWF head office, my life was never the same. I was no longer the hopeless failure I was quickly becoming before Mo Shirazi discovered me and my pent up rage. I was a professional wrestler…and a damn good one at that, I just didn’t know it yet. But more importantly than that, I was no longer alone in this world. I had Noelle; or Miss Maniac, as she is now widely known. I could never thank her enough for her companionship. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I suppose some day I’ll look inside myself, much like I did a few short days ago to recapture my passion for the business. It’s all for us now. It’s no longer about keeping this business in tact. I deserve to enjoy this place, too, damnit.]
[The meeting with Mo was short, but I’ll never forget it. I walked into his office and immediately had his full attention.]
MO SHIRAZI: Good morning, Mr. Thomas...you ready to change your life?
MICHAEL THOMAS: Can hardly wait.
MO SHIRAZI: I noticed. You really hit it off with Noelle downstairs, huh?
MICHAEL THOMAS: ....you saw that?
MO SHIRAZI: Well no, technically I didn’t see anything. I heard it though. She forgot to turn the off the speaker on her phone. The entire seventeenth floor heard it, as a matter of fact…
MICHAEL THOMAS: [with his face buried in his hands] I meant no disrespect…
MO SHIRAZI: Disrespect? [ he laughs] You’re just lucky you got to her before I did…she’s a knockout, isn’t she?
NOELLE: Umm…Mr Shirazi? You have the intercom on…
MO SHIRAZI: [fumbling with the phone, he frantically shuts off the intercom] This just hasn’t been my morning…
MICHAEL THOMAS: [laughing] Hey at least she knows how you really feel.
MO SHIRAZI: Alright, alright…let’s get to business. Have you chosen a name for yourself yet?
MICHAEL THOMAS: Not really. I’ve never been good at that stuff.
MO SHIRAZI: Kid, the moment I saw you I knew exactly what the perfect name for you would be. You’re ruthless, violent and out of control. From here on in…you’re no longer Mike Thomas; you’re Maniac.
[And that was that. I went on to become one of the greats. And Noelle and I got married two years later. I may be forgetting what I’ve done in this business for now, but this is one memory I could never let go of. Noelle is my life. Everything I ever did was thanks to her and her inspiration. Somewhere along the way, I forgot that and it became about satisfying my ego, ensuring my place in wrestling history. No more. This is about her now…this is about us.]
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd;
Labour and rest, that equal periods keep;
"Obedient slumbers that can wake and weep;"
Desires compos'd, affections ever ev'n,
Tears that delight, and sighs that waft to Heav'n.
Grace shines around her with serenest beams,
And whisp'ring angels prompt her golden dreams.
For her th' unfading rose of Eden blooms,
And wings of seraphs shed divine perfumes,
For her the Spouse prepares the bridal ring,
For her white virgins hymeneals sing,
To sounds of heav'nly harps she dies away,
And melts in visions of eternal day.
<<<<END SCENE>>>>
[Scene opens inside Maniac’s famous personal gym. He has trained for the biggest matches of his career here, and this Monday’s is clearly no different. Amidst the weights, the skipping ropes, the punching bags and the universal machines stands Maniac. He is clad in a black ‘NAPW’ t-shirt, blue gym shorts and black running shoes. His long, jet black hair hangs to his shoulders, and it is quite evident that he has just finished an intense workout. Sweat drips off his brow, and a towel is around his neck.]
[In the center of the room is a wrestling ring. Each turnbuckle has the name of a different organization that Maniac has been a part of. MWWF on one, EWA on another. WWWA on yet another, as well as CWF and WIW on others. One corner, however, appears to be blank. Maniac steps through the ropes and walks over to the aforementioned corner. He fidgets with the blank turnbuckle with his body concealing it from our line of sight. Then, without warning, he turns and faces us. The blank turnbuckle has been replaced by one that reads ‘NAPW’.]
MANIAC: So Axle Jaxx has never heard of me. I suppose I should be insulted? Actually, I sort of expected as much from a guy named after a cereal. He has his head stuck so far up his ass he can see the Apple Jacks he had for breakfast. Listen kid, we’re in Canada, so let me give you a suitable comparison. Being in the wrestling industry and never hearing of me is like being in the NHL and not knowing who Wayne Gretzky is. Face it, you little punk…you know who I am. And you know who I am because when you were in grade school, you’d invite your little pimple faced friends over to watch me take on Jimmy Blast inside a steel cage. You idolized me. Hell, I think I remember receiving fan mail from you…but then again, I receive so damn much of it on a daily basis that it’s entirely possible that I have you confused with someone else, like say, Axle Rose. [he laughs] See, your ignorance was front and center during your entire low budget promo that you probably considered filming in your trailer with some cheap camcorder that you stole from the local Wal-Mart. You want to take shots at my name?
[He paces around the ring, touching the ropes, patting the turnbuckles.]
MANIAC: This name was given to me by a man by the name of Mo Shirazi. The man who discovered me. The man who pulled me out of the hell I was living as a result of my mother being murdered by my abusive father, and gave me an outlet to release my pent up rage…legally. I was a wild, out of control, violent, sadistic son of a bitch. But it only got me so far. See, over the years I had to refine my skills. I won all kinds of titles, sure…but never the big one. And then I met a man by the name of Mark Xamin. A wrestling genius. He taught me how to pick every opponent apart. He taught me how to control myself and strategize rather than wildly attack. He told me that I should consider every man I ever step foot in the ring with my trainer for the night, because I could learn something new every night. And I did. I became the champion of the world, time and time again. Over the past eleven years I’ve been faced with every possible situation you can imagine. I’ve done it all. There is absolutely nothing you can throw at me that I won’t know how to handle. And that’s why, Axle…
That’s why…
[Maniac leans over the top rope and peers down at us as we gaze up at him from the floor. His eyes could burn a hole through anyone watching.]
MANIAC: That’s why they’ve also dubbed me the Lord of the Ring, the King of Kings. And for reasons you’ll find out in due time, the most unpredictable son of a bitch in the game.
[He steps through the ropes and sits on the ring apron, his fiery gaze turned into a look of amusement.]
MANIAC: You must be living in some kind of fantasy world if you truly believe I couldn’t hack it on the global scene. Hell, earlier this year I headlined a massive pay-per-view in Australia and won the war of the year. Before signing with NAPW, I headlined a PCW pay-per-view in only my third week with the company. I can hack it, kid…believe me, I can hack it.
But as I said in my last promo…and if you had an attention span greater than that of an egg, you would have heard me say it…I came to NAPW because I wanted to stay in my home country of Canada. More importantly, I wanted to take a Canadian promotion to the promised land. If I wanted to hop on a plane and head south to some global promotion, I’d do it and dominate it. But I’d rather be here, beating up the likes of you.
You wanna talk about heart? You little snot…how about a sixty two minute cage match with my blood nemesis, Jimmy Blast? Our blood was spilled for over an hour. We went back and forth the entire match, the crowd was on their feet from beginning to end. We battled on top of the cage near the end of the match…I Headhuntered him all the way to the ring below. I broke my tailbone on the fall. I broke his collarbone and ruptured his spine. I managed to roll over, broken ass and all, and pin him to win the MWWF World championship for the fourth time. That’s just one example. Don’t talk about heart with me, kid…
And you really think you’re gonna end my career? [he laughs] I’ve gone to war with the biggest names in this business…and won. You think little old you, an insignificant piece of crap who’s struggling to survive in a promotion that isn’t even financially secure enough to put on its own pay-per-view, is going to end my career? Give me a damn break. If I were you, I’d keep my mouth shut, because Lord knows you won’t be the first man I’ve sent to the hospital, and you sure as hell won’t be the last. You’ll be sucking up your dinner through a straw and taking a piss in a bed pan while you watch me take on Chris Casino for the title on your little twelve inch black and white TV.
This Monday night was supposed to be simply business. It wasn’t personal, you just happened to be the poor bastard who drew the Lord of the Ring in his first NAPW match. But now….now you’ve pissed me off. And that makes this a whole new ball game, little man. I’m not just gonna beat your ass…I’m gonna downright humiliate you. I’m gonna shorten your career, and believe me kid, if I wanted to I’d end it, but the morbid bastard inside of me actually would prefer to watch you go through endless months of rehab and then attempt to piece your miserable sham of a career back together…only for yours truly to show up again and put you out of commission yet again.
You have a choice, Axle…you can choose to accept the fact that you’re a mere stepping stone, you’re gonna get your sorry ass kicked up and down Edmonton, you’re gonna be made an example of, and now that you’ve made it personal, you’re gonna be humiliated…or you can continue to act like a tough guy, when really all you are is some run of the mill independent wrestler who doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell at beating me this Monday night, and get your punk ass beaten down even worse.
The choice is yours.
This Monday night, NAPW will never be the same again. There’s a new sheriff in town, and you’re lookin’ at him…the Lord of the Ring, the King of Kings, the most unpredictable son of a bitch in the game…
And you won’t EVER forget it.
[He hops off the apron and hits the showers. The man is focused, the man is ready…the man is back.]
[Scene fades to black.]
RECEPTIONIST: Can I help you?
MICHAEL THOMAS: Yes… [looking at her name tag] Noelle. I’m here to see Mr. Shirazi, I have an appointment with him.
NOELLE: Ah yes, you must be Michael Thomas.
MICHAEL THOMAS: Mike.
NOELLE: I’m sorry?
MICHAEL THOMAS: Call me Mike.
NOELLE: Well Mike, it seems you’re a tiny bit early.
MICHAEL THOMAS: You know what they say…if you’re on time you’re late.
NOELLE: [smiling] You’re cute…listen, I’m not supposed to do this, but umm…
MICHAEL THOMAS: Then don’t…allow me. Could I have your card…for uhh….business purposes, of course.
NOELLE:You sure can…but there’s no need to be sneaky about it, I just didn’t want to be unprofessional. It’s my first day.
MICHAEL THOMAS: Gotcha. So can I call around…seven’ish tonight? Maybe I could take you out to dinner…
NOELLE: Sounds like a date to me.
[That’s when she smiled that mesmerizing smile and sent me up to sign the contract that changed my life. Maybe it was fate; maybe it was mere chance. But ever since I walked through that revolving door at the MWWF head office, my life was never the same. I was no longer the hopeless failure I was quickly becoming before Mo Shirazi discovered me and my pent up rage. I was a professional wrestler…and a damn good one at that, I just didn’t know it yet. But more importantly than that, I was no longer alone in this world. I had Noelle; or Miss Maniac, as she is now widely known. I could never thank her enough for her companionship. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I suppose some day I’ll look inside myself, much like I did a few short days ago to recapture my passion for the business. It’s all for us now. It’s no longer about keeping this business in tact. I deserve to enjoy this place, too, damnit.]
[The meeting with Mo was short, but I’ll never forget it. I walked into his office and immediately had his full attention.]
MO SHIRAZI: Good morning, Mr. Thomas...you ready to change your life?
MICHAEL THOMAS: Can hardly wait.
MO SHIRAZI: I noticed. You really hit it off with Noelle downstairs, huh?
MICHAEL THOMAS: ....you saw that?
MO SHIRAZI: Well no, technically I didn’t see anything. I heard it though. She forgot to turn the off the speaker on her phone. The entire seventeenth floor heard it, as a matter of fact…
MICHAEL THOMAS: [with his face buried in his hands] I meant no disrespect…
MO SHIRAZI: Disrespect? [ he laughs] You’re just lucky you got to her before I did…she’s a knockout, isn’t she?
NOELLE: Umm…Mr Shirazi? You have the intercom on…
MO SHIRAZI: [fumbling with the phone, he frantically shuts off the intercom] This just hasn’t been my morning…
MICHAEL THOMAS: [laughing] Hey at least she knows how you really feel.
MO SHIRAZI: Alright, alright…let’s get to business. Have you chosen a name for yourself yet?
MICHAEL THOMAS: Not really. I’ve never been good at that stuff.
MO SHIRAZI: Kid, the moment I saw you I knew exactly what the perfect name for you would be. You’re ruthless, violent and out of control. From here on in…you’re no longer Mike Thomas; you’re Maniac.
[And that was that. I went on to become one of the greats. And Noelle and I got married two years later. I may be forgetting what I’ve done in this business for now, but this is one memory I could never let go of. Noelle is my life. Everything I ever did was thanks to her and her inspiration. Somewhere along the way, I forgot that and it became about satisfying my ego, ensuring my place in wrestling history. No more. This is about her now…this is about us.]
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd;
Labour and rest, that equal periods keep;
"Obedient slumbers that can wake and weep;"
Desires compos'd, affections ever ev'n,
Tears that delight, and sighs that waft to Heav'n.
Grace shines around her with serenest beams,
And whisp'ring angels prompt her golden dreams.
For her th' unfading rose of Eden blooms,
And wings of seraphs shed divine perfumes,
For her the Spouse prepares the bridal ring,
For her white virgins hymeneals sing,
To sounds of heav'nly harps she dies away,
And melts in visions of eternal day.
<<<<END SCENE>>>>
[Scene opens inside Maniac’s famous personal gym. He has trained for the biggest matches of his career here, and this Monday’s is clearly no different. Amidst the weights, the skipping ropes, the punching bags and the universal machines stands Maniac. He is clad in a black ‘NAPW’ t-shirt, blue gym shorts and black running shoes. His long, jet black hair hangs to his shoulders, and it is quite evident that he has just finished an intense workout. Sweat drips off his brow, and a towel is around his neck.]
[In the center of the room is a wrestling ring. Each turnbuckle has the name of a different organization that Maniac has been a part of. MWWF on one, EWA on another. WWWA on yet another, as well as CWF and WIW on others. One corner, however, appears to be blank. Maniac steps through the ropes and walks over to the aforementioned corner. He fidgets with the blank turnbuckle with his body concealing it from our line of sight. Then, without warning, he turns and faces us. The blank turnbuckle has been replaced by one that reads ‘NAPW’.]
MANIAC: So Axle Jaxx has never heard of me. I suppose I should be insulted? Actually, I sort of expected as much from a guy named after a cereal. He has his head stuck so far up his ass he can see the Apple Jacks he had for breakfast. Listen kid, we’re in Canada, so let me give you a suitable comparison. Being in the wrestling industry and never hearing of me is like being in the NHL and not knowing who Wayne Gretzky is. Face it, you little punk…you know who I am. And you know who I am because when you were in grade school, you’d invite your little pimple faced friends over to watch me take on Jimmy Blast inside a steel cage. You idolized me. Hell, I think I remember receiving fan mail from you…but then again, I receive so damn much of it on a daily basis that it’s entirely possible that I have you confused with someone else, like say, Axle Rose. [he laughs] See, your ignorance was front and center during your entire low budget promo that you probably considered filming in your trailer with some cheap camcorder that you stole from the local Wal-Mart. You want to take shots at my name?
[He paces around the ring, touching the ropes, patting the turnbuckles.]
MANIAC: This name was given to me by a man by the name of Mo Shirazi. The man who discovered me. The man who pulled me out of the hell I was living as a result of my mother being murdered by my abusive father, and gave me an outlet to release my pent up rage…legally. I was a wild, out of control, violent, sadistic son of a bitch. But it only got me so far. See, over the years I had to refine my skills. I won all kinds of titles, sure…but never the big one. And then I met a man by the name of Mark Xamin. A wrestling genius. He taught me how to pick every opponent apart. He taught me how to control myself and strategize rather than wildly attack. He told me that I should consider every man I ever step foot in the ring with my trainer for the night, because I could learn something new every night. And I did. I became the champion of the world, time and time again. Over the past eleven years I’ve been faced with every possible situation you can imagine. I’ve done it all. There is absolutely nothing you can throw at me that I won’t know how to handle. And that’s why, Axle…
That’s why…
[Maniac leans over the top rope and peers down at us as we gaze up at him from the floor. His eyes could burn a hole through anyone watching.]
MANIAC: That’s why they’ve also dubbed me the Lord of the Ring, the King of Kings. And for reasons you’ll find out in due time, the most unpredictable son of a bitch in the game.
[He steps through the ropes and sits on the ring apron, his fiery gaze turned into a look of amusement.]
MANIAC: You must be living in some kind of fantasy world if you truly believe I couldn’t hack it on the global scene. Hell, earlier this year I headlined a massive pay-per-view in Australia and won the war of the year. Before signing with NAPW, I headlined a PCW pay-per-view in only my third week with the company. I can hack it, kid…believe me, I can hack it.
But as I said in my last promo…and if you had an attention span greater than that of an egg, you would have heard me say it…I came to NAPW because I wanted to stay in my home country of Canada. More importantly, I wanted to take a Canadian promotion to the promised land. If I wanted to hop on a plane and head south to some global promotion, I’d do it and dominate it. But I’d rather be here, beating up the likes of you.
You wanna talk about heart? You little snot…how about a sixty two minute cage match with my blood nemesis, Jimmy Blast? Our blood was spilled for over an hour. We went back and forth the entire match, the crowd was on their feet from beginning to end. We battled on top of the cage near the end of the match…I Headhuntered him all the way to the ring below. I broke my tailbone on the fall. I broke his collarbone and ruptured his spine. I managed to roll over, broken ass and all, and pin him to win the MWWF World championship for the fourth time. That’s just one example. Don’t talk about heart with me, kid…
And you really think you’re gonna end my career? [he laughs] I’ve gone to war with the biggest names in this business…and won. You think little old you, an insignificant piece of crap who’s struggling to survive in a promotion that isn’t even financially secure enough to put on its own pay-per-view, is going to end my career? Give me a damn break. If I were you, I’d keep my mouth shut, because Lord knows you won’t be the first man I’ve sent to the hospital, and you sure as hell won’t be the last. You’ll be sucking up your dinner through a straw and taking a piss in a bed pan while you watch me take on Chris Casino for the title on your little twelve inch black and white TV.
This Monday night was supposed to be simply business. It wasn’t personal, you just happened to be the poor bastard who drew the Lord of the Ring in his first NAPW match. But now….now you’ve pissed me off. And that makes this a whole new ball game, little man. I’m not just gonna beat your ass…I’m gonna downright humiliate you. I’m gonna shorten your career, and believe me kid, if I wanted to I’d end it, but the morbid bastard inside of me actually would prefer to watch you go through endless months of rehab and then attempt to piece your miserable sham of a career back together…only for yours truly to show up again and put you out of commission yet again.
You have a choice, Axle…you can choose to accept the fact that you’re a mere stepping stone, you’re gonna get your sorry ass kicked up and down Edmonton, you’re gonna be made an example of, and now that you’ve made it personal, you’re gonna be humiliated…or you can continue to act like a tough guy, when really all you are is some run of the mill independent wrestler who doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell at beating me this Monday night, and get your punk ass beaten down even worse.
The choice is yours.
This Monday night, NAPW will never be the same again. There’s a new sheriff in town, and you’re lookin’ at him…the Lord of the Ring, the King of Kings, the most unpredictable son of a bitch in the game…
And you won’t EVER forget it.
[He hops off the apron and hits the showers. The man is focused, the man is ready…the man is back.]
[Scene fades to black.]