Post by D! on Feb 5, 2006 5:31:44 GMT -5
(Lights up. D!'s apartment. Not surprisingly, D! enters, angrily clutching an envelope. He finds the camera and fumes.)
D!: . . . I want you to pay close attention to me, Ravager, because I know you're watching this. (Holds up envelope.) D'you see this? This little jab at me? This pitiful little attempt at striking at me through my personal life . . . wasting your breath and everyone's time talking about how different you are when you pull the same tired bullcrap as everyone has before you. What's in this envelope, Ravager? Pictures? Threats? More of your damn, tired lies? Yeah, I'll read your precious envelope.
(He tosses it onto his kitchen table, right next to a large, unmarked envelope.)
After Monday. I'm not falling for it. I already know what you are. We both do. A psychopath. A hypocrite. Someone who's not merely used to talking out both sides of his mouth, he can actually pawn off his own shortcomings on other people.
No? Not buying it? Well, grab the comfy beanbag and settle in, because I'm going to tell you what everyone else in the NAPW is figuring out right now.
D'you remember your first match this year, after the break? (Chuckles.) No, it wasn't against a car. No, it wasn't against a locker. It was . . . you can do it . . . Static! Yay! That's right! You were booked against Static, kind of a "welcome back" match for the fans, and you and Static had a history, and it was Falls! Count! Anywhere! and NAPW fans were salivating, and your fans were excited, because this was Gonna. Be. Great.
And then what did you say?
You just couldn't stop talking about then-champion Chris Casino, while you were "fighting in a meaningless match."
(Pause.)
I mean, who the Hell do you think you are?
Listen. I might owe Static a solid, but truth be told, I'm not all that crazy either about what he did to poor Bill Fleming. Still. Everybody and their momma revved up for this match, and you pout like a spoiled child who didn't get what he wanted for Christmas. D'you think only a few people noticed, peanut? D'you think it was maybe a lot?
Do you want "meaningless", Ravager?
"Meaningless" is trotting out a family to show how "complex" you really are after you've manipulated everyone at least once about it.
"Meaningless" is deflecting accusation that you've moved across the alley to spy on me by stating that you happened to move across the alley . . . and are spying on me!
"Meaningless", Ravager, is a man who thinks he can prove what a saint he is by downgrading all of the scummy things he's ever done by three percent.
Well, at least everybody knows why you were Provincial Champion. By winning matches. WWWWWOOOOOOOWWWWWW!!!!! And I had to grow my NAPW Title belt from a seed out of the ground! Your way sure does sound more hardcore, Mr. Ravager, sir!
Listen to me carefully, you anally-clenched freak. There is nothing in your last useless salvo that I feel bad about. You criticize me for wearing my title out? I happen to like it, and the fans do, too. You want to criticize my parents for wanting to send me back to school? Y'know, they're not perfect, but they're there for me. Don't treat everyone you meet like they're supposed to have your shitty childhood. And you want to criticize me for--of all things--the car that I drive? Because it's not a car that "one of the people" would drive? I know how you hate surprises, but if "one of the people" scrimped and saved their money, then yes, they too could drive a used mango PT Cruiser. Why? (Waving arms, Kermit-like.) BECAUSE IT'S ENTIRELY FREAKIN' REASONABLE!
(Deep breath.)
And the really stupid part of this is, all of this is just part of your little game. Of your little smokescreen. Get me all worked up, get me off my game. Meanwhile, you get to stay as cool as a cucumber. It's a great strategy. If it was chess. Or poker. Or Playstation.
But for all of your craftiness . . .
. . . you're still getting it wrong.
You see, you're operating under the impression that I'm trying to get under your skin, that I'm deliberately trying to get you mad heading into that ring. But for all your strategy, you've got this mapped out the wrong way. I need you calm in that ring. It's not about how mad you get, Br'er Fox.
(Leans directly into the camera.)
It's about how mad I get.
And mad doesn't throw me off my game . . . it is my game.
(Standing straight, he holds the NAPW Title in front of his chest.)
Only two days to go, Ravager, and I still don't see your damn head in this match. Are you actually going to do one single thing to surprise me, or is it going to be like last week's match?
Well, sure, that might deserve an explanation. Now, remember, Moose and I tagged against you and Maniac. So as long as I was the legal man, I would either pin you or Maniac. And the guy I wound up pinning . . . was the guy I needed to pin. The guy who's career I've followed for years. The veteran of MWWF, of PCW, of CWF. The eleven-year veteran. The Lord of the Ring. The King of Kings. A pin over Maniac meant something for me. Maniac was the meaningful opponent.
(Smiles.) Now guess which one you were?
(Lights down.)
D!: . . . I want you to pay close attention to me, Ravager, because I know you're watching this. (Holds up envelope.) D'you see this? This little jab at me? This pitiful little attempt at striking at me through my personal life . . . wasting your breath and everyone's time talking about how different you are when you pull the same tired bullcrap as everyone has before you. What's in this envelope, Ravager? Pictures? Threats? More of your damn, tired lies? Yeah, I'll read your precious envelope.
(He tosses it onto his kitchen table, right next to a large, unmarked envelope.)
After Monday. I'm not falling for it. I already know what you are. We both do. A psychopath. A hypocrite. Someone who's not merely used to talking out both sides of his mouth, he can actually pawn off his own shortcomings on other people.
No? Not buying it? Well, grab the comfy beanbag and settle in, because I'm going to tell you what everyone else in the NAPW is figuring out right now.
D'you remember your first match this year, after the break? (Chuckles.) No, it wasn't against a car. No, it wasn't against a locker. It was . . . you can do it . . . Static! Yay! That's right! You were booked against Static, kind of a "welcome back" match for the fans, and you and Static had a history, and it was Falls! Count! Anywhere! and NAPW fans were salivating, and your fans were excited, because this was Gonna. Be. Great.
And then what did you say?
You just couldn't stop talking about then-champion Chris Casino, while you were "fighting in a meaningless match."
(Pause.)
I mean, who the Hell do you think you are?
Listen. I might owe Static a solid, but truth be told, I'm not all that crazy either about what he did to poor Bill Fleming. Still. Everybody and their momma revved up for this match, and you pout like a spoiled child who didn't get what he wanted for Christmas. D'you think only a few people noticed, peanut? D'you think it was maybe a lot?
Do you want "meaningless", Ravager?
"Meaningless" is trotting out a family to show how "complex" you really are after you've manipulated everyone at least once about it.
"Meaningless" is deflecting accusation that you've moved across the alley to spy on me by stating that you happened to move across the alley . . . and are spying on me!
"Meaningless", Ravager, is a man who thinks he can prove what a saint he is by downgrading all of the scummy things he's ever done by three percent.
Well, at least everybody knows why you were Provincial Champion. By winning matches. WWWWWOOOOOOOWWWWWW!!!!! And I had to grow my NAPW Title belt from a seed out of the ground! Your way sure does sound more hardcore, Mr. Ravager, sir!
Listen to me carefully, you anally-clenched freak. There is nothing in your last useless salvo that I feel bad about. You criticize me for wearing my title out? I happen to like it, and the fans do, too. You want to criticize my parents for wanting to send me back to school? Y'know, they're not perfect, but they're there for me. Don't treat everyone you meet like they're supposed to have your shitty childhood. And you want to criticize me for--of all things--the car that I drive? Because it's not a car that "one of the people" would drive? I know how you hate surprises, but if "one of the people" scrimped and saved their money, then yes, they too could drive a used mango PT Cruiser. Why? (Waving arms, Kermit-like.) BECAUSE IT'S ENTIRELY FREAKIN' REASONABLE!
(Deep breath.)
And the really stupid part of this is, all of this is just part of your little game. Of your little smokescreen. Get me all worked up, get me off my game. Meanwhile, you get to stay as cool as a cucumber. It's a great strategy. If it was chess. Or poker. Or Playstation.
But for all of your craftiness . . .
. . . you're still getting it wrong.
You see, you're operating under the impression that I'm trying to get under your skin, that I'm deliberately trying to get you mad heading into that ring. But for all your strategy, you've got this mapped out the wrong way. I need you calm in that ring. It's not about how mad you get, Br'er Fox.
(Leans directly into the camera.)
It's about how mad I get.
And mad doesn't throw me off my game . . . it is my game.
(Standing straight, he holds the NAPW Title in front of his chest.)
Only two days to go, Ravager, and I still don't see your damn head in this match. Are you actually going to do one single thing to surprise me, or is it going to be like last week's match?
Well, sure, that might deserve an explanation. Now, remember, Moose and I tagged against you and Maniac. So as long as I was the legal man, I would either pin you or Maniac. And the guy I wound up pinning . . . was the guy I needed to pin. The guy who's career I've followed for years. The veteran of MWWF, of PCW, of CWF. The eleven-year veteran. The Lord of the Ring. The King of Kings. A pin over Maniac meant something for me. Maniac was the meaningful opponent.
(Smiles.) Now guess which one you were?
(Lights down.)