Post by axlejaxx1 on Dec 30, 2005 2:32:50 GMT -5
(The scene opens to the streets of downtown Edmonton, on a sunny and unseasonably warm Wednesday afternoon. The camera pans around slowly taking in the scenery as men and women in business suits walk into Commonwealth Place. Suddenly, a voice calls to the camera, and as it turns to it, Axle Jaxx is presented in front of it, wearing a baby blue hoody and dark blue jeans. He nods the camera to follow him, and he begins to talk as he walks through the streets of downtown)
Jaxx: Maniac, Maniac, Maniac…you really need to get some help—or at least a better writer. Apple Jaxx up my ass? Axle Rose? Didn’t you make the exact same jokes in your first promo? There must be something about you and repetition, because all I’ve heard from you is the same shit over and over. “I headlined THIS Pay-Per-View, I defeated THAT nobody in a hellatious match.” I mean, you’re doing nothing but further proving my point: you are living in the past.
It makes sense really. Why wouldn’t a wrestler who’s unsure of his stagnant abilities cling to his former glory like Linus and his shoddy old blanket? I mean, lets examine my opponent, shall we? You spent your last promo reminiscing about the love of your life—who probably looks a lot like you—your mother’s murder and some cat named Mo. You recited a poem about memories and love, and then bored everyone to tears by recanting some of your greatest victories. You did all of this in a ring that was quite literally decorated with the memories of all of the wrestling promotions you’ve been a part of…do you see where this is going? I mean, maybe you should strap a tape recorder to your ass so you can understand what you sound like. You are constantly looking into the mirror trying to find the person you saw years ago.
(At that moment, Jaxx stops to look at the camera)
Jaxx: But you can’t seem to find him, can you Maniac? That person is deep down, buried by your fear of success.
(Jaxx continues to walk, a little slower now, pacing his words)
Jaxx: What you don’t seem to get, Maniac, is that just because you shed blood, or suffered unimaginable pain, or won world titles…doesn’t mean you had heart. Sure, it means you had skill—I never denied that. But this whole self-deprecating, “I’m a morbid bastard” thing makes you sound like a child. It’s like you’re looking for the worlds largest soap box to stand on in order to scream to the world about how sad and depressing you are, so everyone should take you seriously and treat you like you’re special. Well you know what, you “snot?” You’re not the only one who’s suffered tragedy and pain. Do I go flaunting it, telling the world about it? No. Do I expect people to treat me like I’m sort of king because my ego expects it of them? No.
I can already hear your response to that. “That’s because you suck, you’re a nobody in a crappy under funded promotion, you’ll never be me.” Which is true, at least the last part. I’ll never be someone like you, because to me, wrestling is more than about how many titles you can win. I’ve won my share, believe it or not, but you don’t hear me bragging. Wrestling is about what you have inside. If, like you, the inside is filled with hate, anger, fear, and doubt, then all you are doing is taking your aggression out on others in an attempt to blame them for the way your life turned out. I mean, I would assume the only reason you talk about me being poor, having a twelve inch television and stealing stuff from Wal-Mart is that, for most of your “tortured” life, you didn’t have much in the way of luxuries?
My heart, on the other hand, is filled with something very different. Sure, passion, will, all of that. Everyone has those things, even you. Whether or not you have an ego, without a passion for the business you would never have won a title. However, I also have things that you obviously do not, Maniac. Things like conviction, purpose, You have no conviction—you came to this promotion because you “missed home”. How sweet. I came here because I wanted to be champion, because I wanted to test myself and prove that I could be the best, which means beating the best. I guess you’ll have to do for now. You also obviously have no true sense of purpose. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be “wasting” your time in NAPW. You’re better than that, aren’t you? Of course you are. My purpose? To be NAPW Champion, to give the fans everything they want to see and more. To be one of the greatest performers this promotion has ever seen.
The most important of all though, Maniac, is youth. Let’s face it, you’re old. You’ve been in this industry for…what, eleven years you said? You’ve done all there is to do, seen everything there is to see, and now you want to come back after two years to Edmonton, Alberta, to prove that you can still bring something to the table? Your prime has passed my friend. It’s time to let it go. It’s time to let the new blood take its course, and wipe out the old blood before it decays in the stream.
(Jaxx finally stops walking, standing in front of the doorway to Gold’s Gym. He moves closer to the camera, looking straight into it now)
Jaxx: So let me make this crystal clear for you, Maniac. My name is Axle Jaxx. You may not remember it now, you may not even remember it after I pin you Monday night. But one day, it will mean just as much as yours used to, if not more. I’m the new blood. I’m stronger, faster, younger, and smarter. I’m educated, I’m lethal, and I have the passion, conviction, and drive to do whatever it takes to win. I WILL snap that neck Monday night, and when I do, it will mark the spot you learned not to under estimate me.
(With that said, Jaxx walks into the gym as the scene fades to black)
Jaxx: Maniac, Maniac, Maniac…you really need to get some help—or at least a better writer. Apple Jaxx up my ass? Axle Rose? Didn’t you make the exact same jokes in your first promo? There must be something about you and repetition, because all I’ve heard from you is the same shit over and over. “I headlined THIS Pay-Per-View, I defeated THAT nobody in a hellatious match.” I mean, you’re doing nothing but further proving my point: you are living in the past.
It makes sense really. Why wouldn’t a wrestler who’s unsure of his stagnant abilities cling to his former glory like Linus and his shoddy old blanket? I mean, lets examine my opponent, shall we? You spent your last promo reminiscing about the love of your life—who probably looks a lot like you—your mother’s murder and some cat named Mo. You recited a poem about memories and love, and then bored everyone to tears by recanting some of your greatest victories. You did all of this in a ring that was quite literally decorated with the memories of all of the wrestling promotions you’ve been a part of…do you see where this is going? I mean, maybe you should strap a tape recorder to your ass so you can understand what you sound like. You are constantly looking into the mirror trying to find the person you saw years ago.
(At that moment, Jaxx stops to look at the camera)
Jaxx: But you can’t seem to find him, can you Maniac? That person is deep down, buried by your fear of success.
(Jaxx continues to walk, a little slower now, pacing his words)
Jaxx: What you don’t seem to get, Maniac, is that just because you shed blood, or suffered unimaginable pain, or won world titles…doesn’t mean you had heart. Sure, it means you had skill—I never denied that. But this whole self-deprecating, “I’m a morbid bastard” thing makes you sound like a child. It’s like you’re looking for the worlds largest soap box to stand on in order to scream to the world about how sad and depressing you are, so everyone should take you seriously and treat you like you’re special. Well you know what, you “snot?” You’re not the only one who’s suffered tragedy and pain. Do I go flaunting it, telling the world about it? No. Do I expect people to treat me like I’m sort of king because my ego expects it of them? No.
I can already hear your response to that. “That’s because you suck, you’re a nobody in a crappy under funded promotion, you’ll never be me.” Which is true, at least the last part. I’ll never be someone like you, because to me, wrestling is more than about how many titles you can win. I’ve won my share, believe it or not, but you don’t hear me bragging. Wrestling is about what you have inside. If, like you, the inside is filled with hate, anger, fear, and doubt, then all you are doing is taking your aggression out on others in an attempt to blame them for the way your life turned out. I mean, I would assume the only reason you talk about me being poor, having a twelve inch television and stealing stuff from Wal-Mart is that, for most of your “tortured” life, you didn’t have much in the way of luxuries?
My heart, on the other hand, is filled with something very different. Sure, passion, will, all of that. Everyone has those things, even you. Whether or not you have an ego, without a passion for the business you would never have won a title. However, I also have things that you obviously do not, Maniac. Things like conviction, purpose, You have no conviction—you came to this promotion because you “missed home”. How sweet. I came here because I wanted to be champion, because I wanted to test myself and prove that I could be the best, which means beating the best. I guess you’ll have to do for now. You also obviously have no true sense of purpose. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be “wasting” your time in NAPW. You’re better than that, aren’t you? Of course you are. My purpose? To be NAPW Champion, to give the fans everything they want to see and more. To be one of the greatest performers this promotion has ever seen.
The most important of all though, Maniac, is youth. Let’s face it, you’re old. You’ve been in this industry for…what, eleven years you said? You’ve done all there is to do, seen everything there is to see, and now you want to come back after two years to Edmonton, Alberta, to prove that you can still bring something to the table? Your prime has passed my friend. It’s time to let it go. It’s time to let the new blood take its course, and wipe out the old blood before it decays in the stream.
(Jaxx finally stops walking, standing in front of the doorway to Gold’s Gym. He moves closer to the camera, looking straight into it now)
Jaxx: So let me make this crystal clear for you, Maniac. My name is Axle Jaxx. You may not remember it now, you may not even remember it after I pin you Monday night. But one day, it will mean just as much as yours used to, if not more. I’m the new blood. I’m stronger, faster, younger, and smarter. I’m educated, I’m lethal, and I have the passion, conviction, and drive to do whatever it takes to win. I WILL snap that neck Monday night, and when I do, it will mark the spot you learned not to under estimate me.
(With that said, Jaxx walks into the gym as the scene fades to black)