Post by Stone Zellor on Jan 27, 2006 18:11:23 GMT -5
The scene opens back in Cook's Edmonton bachelor pad, where he's alone on his sofa again. His legs spread out across his coffee table, well plank of wood on some breeze blocks. Which, is just like the shelves by the window. The television cabinet and one of the stools around his breakfast bar. No wonder he's a bachelor.
As we focus in, Cook turns off the television and grabs a bottle of Gatorade from off the sofa. He takes a deep sip whilst rubbing his head with the other hand as the scene continues.
J.C.:
First off, I'd like to apologise to Mindy who was at the bar last night... I honestly thought that was my ass I was grabbing. But, yours is nice too. I just had a bit too much to drink and things were said, thing happened and I may have been in the wrong. But, man I was spot on about others.
Like when I mistakenly said that the cage match at Joker's Wild was escape to win. And... No, that was it. But, and this is to everyone, who honestly thought I would keep track of Chris Casino's career? Anyone?
Cook shrugs his shoulders before taking another sip of Gatorade.
I mean, man, I haven't paid attention to you since you stepped into NAPW. And your pitiful attempts to get under my skin, correct my wording or how I speak only go to show why, bitch... I need to stop calling you that really. Damn you for getting me started! You're punk, little man, idiot, nincompoop. Anything but bitch or bitchcakes. I mean, who speaks like that?
Chris, you see I think I've found your problem. And listen closely because you don't seem to be able to coherently, and yes that's a big word... But you don't seem to be able to coherently interpret what I'm saying. You take things literally, and jump at the chance to correct me. Sure I said you were hiding, but how many of your opponents hop on a plane to Japan the week before they're facing you? I mean, I wasn't listening to you before you started dragging me into your creepy little world, how was I supposed to know? Seriously, how? Am I meant to pay attention to every little thing you say? Be your lap dog? Because you already have Evan Cartwright and Terry Brandon for that!
Cook punches the air, shouting "burn" as he does.
I mean, Chris, come on, do I look like I care about your record? Wow, you've been pinned once in two months. Don't make me say the obvious statement Chris! You haven't faced me yet!
Oh damn, you made me say it. I didn't want to say that, but it was so damn blaringly obvious to anyone with half a freakin' brain, surely you must have realised that your record means as much to me as it does to D! or Ravager, hell even DX! You're not the champion anymore Chris, no one actually needs to pay attention to anything you say and they don't. I mean, I'm facing you this week and I'm having trouble paying attention to the stream of vile tripe that's spewing from what could well be your ass!
He takes another swig of his Gatorade, takes three deep breaths and continues on his rant.
I may not have yet achieved what you have Chris, but it's still early days. Or were you waiting for me to say that as well? As for my claim to fame... I could be the consummate choke artist... I could be the guy who's girlfriend walked out on him while he was laid up in hospital... Maybe, I could even be the guy who was hospitalized by a damn street bum, which by the way isn't technically true as he had a home, it was just a rubbish dump. So I got hospitalized by a dump dwelling bum, since we're correcting each other!
Or, consider this if you will, my claim to fame might not have happened yet. I mean, I'm still young. I'm working my way back to where I was before Black Thursday. Before the 'incident'. Maybe, man, my claim to fame might just occur this Monday, when I can claim to be the man who put Chris Casino in his freakin' place! Down there among the other crazy, demented sociopathic morons who thinks the sun shines out of their ass! So, in answer to your question Chris, yes I do think someone like me could beat someone like you.
Cook removes the sunglasses as he raises both eyebrows in a mock expression of surprise.
Heck I know, lets make this literal. I think I could beat you. I think if you look to the future and not the freakin' past, which by the way you seem to love living in, you would see that I could, can and will beat you. I shall not choke like a President on a pretzel... That's a little American joke for us... And after this week I shall not have to bother with the likes of you, anymore.
Oh, and F.Y.I, I had to work at it. All through high school and all through college. Both years...
And with that the scene comes to an end with the traditional fade to black.
As we focus in, Cook turns off the television and grabs a bottle of Gatorade from off the sofa. He takes a deep sip whilst rubbing his head with the other hand as the scene continues.
J.C.:
First off, I'd like to apologise to Mindy who was at the bar last night... I honestly thought that was my ass I was grabbing. But, yours is nice too. I just had a bit too much to drink and things were said, thing happened and I may have been in the wrong. But, man I was spot on about others.
Like when I mistakenly said that the cage match at Joker's Wild was escape to win. And... No, that was it. But, and this is to everyone, who honestly thought I would keep track of Chris Casino's career? Anyone?
Cook shrugs his shoulders before taking another sip of Gatorade.
I mean, man, I haven't paid attention to you since you stepped into NAPW. And your pitiful attempts to get under my skin, correct my wording or how I speak only go to show why, bitch... I need to stop calling you that really. Damn you for getting me started! You're punk, little man, idiot, nincompoop. Anything but bitch or bitchcakes. I mean, who speaks like that?
Chris, you see I think I've found your problem. And listen closely because you don't seem to be able to coherently, and yes that's a big word... But you don't seem to be able to coherently interpret what I'm saying. You take things literally, and jump at the chance to correct me. Sure I said you were hiding, but how many of your opponents hop on a plane to Japan the week before they're facing you? I mean, I wasn't listening to you before you started dragging me into your creepy little world, how was I supposed to know? Seriously, how? Am I meant to pay attention to every little thing you say? Be your lap dog? Because you already have Evan Cartwright and Terry Brandon for that!
Cook punches the air, shouting "burn" as he does.
I mean, Chris, come on, do I look like I care about your record? Wow, you've been pinned once in two months. Don't make me say the obvious statement Chris! You haven't faced me yet!
Oh damn, you made me say it. I didn't want to say that, but it was so damn blaringly obvious to anyone with half a freakin' brain, surely you must have realised that your record means as much to me as it does to D! or Ravager, hell even DX! You're not the champion anymore Chris, no one actually needs to pay attention to anything you say and they don't. I mean, I'm facing you this week and I'm having trouble paying attention to the stream of vile tripe that's spewing from what could well be your ass!
He takes another swig of his Gatorade, takes three deep breaths and continues on his rant.
I may not have yet achieved what you have Chris, but it's still early days. Or were you waiting for me to say that as well? As for my claim to fame... I could be the consummate choke artist... I could be the guy who's girlfriend walked out on him while he was laid up in hospital... Maybe, I could even be the guy who was hospitalized by a damn street bum, which by the way isn't technically true as he had a home, it was just a rubbish dump. So I got hospitalized by a dump dwelling bum, since we're correcting each other!
Or, consider this if you will, my claim to fame might not have happened yet. I mean, I'm still young. I'm working my way back to where I was before Black Thursday. Before the 'incident'. Maybe, man, my claim to fame might just occur this Monday, when I can claim to be the man who put Chris Casino in his freakin' place! Down there among the other crazy, demented sociopathic morons who thinks the sun shines out of their ass! So, in answer to your question Chris, yes I do think someone like me could beat someone like you.
Cook removes the sunglasses as he raises both eyebrows in a mock expression of surprise.
Heck I know, lets make this literal. I think I could beat you. I think if you look to the future and not the freakin' past, which by the way you seem to love living in, you would see that I could, can and will beat you. I shall not choke like a President on a pretzel... That's a little American joke for us... And after this week I shall not have to bother with the likes of you, anymore.
Oh, and F.Y.I, I had to work at it. All through high school and all through college. Both years...
And with that the scene comes to an end with the traditional fade to black.