Post by eddie on May 9, 2012 5:19:52 GMT -6
The scene opens in what looks like the psychiatric ward of some unnamed hospital. Nurses, doctors and orderlies are all going about their diligent work of handling difficult patients, guiding other patients who are there in body, but judging from the looks in their vacant expressions, the mind is not necessarily in the same building. Most patients are wearing pyjamas or hospital gowns or a combination of both. It is a bit of a sad scene showing how far humans can degrade and spiral mentally. The overall feeling of being lost is what dominates here. The camera pans around the large room that forms the main area of the ward before slowly heading down a long corridor. The camera cuts to the left at the end of the long hallway and shows another long and somber hall at the end of which the camera comes to a halt in front of a set of double doors. Though a bit muffled, the sounds of what sounds like someone screaming can be heard.
The camera bursts through the double doors and into bright light. Beyond another set of doors, the camera comes into a room with a lone table used to restrain people who are having a momentary of loss of self control, lets say. On the table is a man who is thrashing violently against the six men who are trying desperately to hold him down and place him in the leather restraints. The man has a completely disheveled look about him and wild-eyed to say the least. Tears are running down his face as he lets out a piercing scream. He kicks violently at the men around him who slowly manage to place his arms and legs in the restraints. Again, he screams with such horror that even a few of the orderlies look extremely nervous. Between wracking sobs, some words can be made out.[/color]
Madman: NOOOO!!!! LET ME GO!!!! You’ve got to let me outta here!!!
He gets an arm delicious momentarily before the orderly gets it right back and with a leather strap in one hand.[/color]
Madman: NOOO!!! Don’t you see?! He’s coming to get ME!!! You’ve got to let me out of here! HE’S COMING!!!
Again, the man thrashes against his restraints. Aside from pulling them tight against their anchors, the man cannot break his bonds. He tries several times, but to no avail. He is trapped there. The older orderlies leave the room, seeing that there is nothing more to be done at that moment. The younger ones stay behind to keep an eye on the man who would harm others and also himself. They also stay behind to see just how far man can deteriorate which is not something you would see much of in textbooks. They keep their distance before a rather rotund lady enters the room. Dressed in regular nursing fatigues, the lady has a tray in her hands. She places the tray away from the table and picks up a syringe. She checks it before taking the madman’s arm and injecting him with the liquid inside the syringe. The man’s body goes limp within seconds and his eyes soften to a much more relaxed expression. The scene fades out…
… The scene reopens inside a white padded room. There is a door with a tiny window in it, but is not so easily spotted. It is well lit and really white. The man from earlier has been locked inside, dressed in a full straight jacket. He looks sad and afraid as his eyes are downcast. Though, every now and again, his eyes dart sharply left and right, as if looking for someone or something, only to return quickly to their sad and fearful expression. Suddenly, a familiar voice begins to speak. It is not speaking to the man directly and he seems not to hear it. For aside from intermittent mumbling, some sobbing, and his eyes darting, his routine in the padded room does not change. The familiar voice starts.[/color]
Eddie’s voice: "No one knows the depths of the human mind. Its potential and capacity are nearly without limits. And no matter what humans uncover about its workin’s, more mysteries are revealed seemin’ly every time one discovery is made. What makes some people do what they do? What makes some people better at such things as sports, music, art and others mathematical and literary geniuses? What makes others complete and utter morons and cursed with complete stupidity and lacking in basic common sense? Then, what makes some people so good and pure and others so vile and evil? Some people have vision for the future and others have mere sight, but can barely see the present. What takes some men to the edge where they thrive and others are taken to the same edge, but fall over into the oblivion of mediocrity and self-defeatist attitudes? Look all around the world. They’re everywhere. Examples of all of these and much, much more.
Suddenly, in the picture of the white room appears Southen Soilder's member, Eddie Stitchard materializes, standing with his arms crossed in one of the padded room’s corners looking down at the straight-jacketed man who is not aware of his presence. Without missing a beat, Eddie goes on.[/color]
Eddie: You can break a man physically and he can survive. Look at a man like Victor Frankl whom the Nazis took all they could, but could not crack the safe that was his brilliant mind. He survived through some of the most incredibly horrifyin’ times in human history. He made his life mean somethin’. But on the flip side, if you can break a man mentally, then he is truly defeated. You want proof? Look at the millions of North Americans who have settled into lives of weakness, mediocrity, mundane and as some would call, normal lives. Never do they venture far from their zones of complete comfort, even though they are miserable and slowly dyin’ there. They are like frogs slowly boilin’ to death. You all know. Take a frog and throw him into boilin’ hot water and he will jump out and save itself. But, take that frog and place him in cool water and slowly set the water to boil. It will simply boil to death, never even attemptin’ to jump to safety. Look around, it’s happenin’ everywhere. Though people do make some attempts at temporarily leavin’ that comfort zone. They live lives of quiet desperation, playin’ recipe games, watchin’ TV, take part in Survivor pools, buy lottery tickets, read fantasy books, tryin’ to live vicariously through any means possible. Anythin’ to somehow temporarily live outside of their lowly comfort zones. Yet it never works, not for very long. What they hope for never seems to happen and it never does for those who look for the quick fix, the easy way to the top. Life is not made that way. It takes much more than simple luck to make changes in one’s life. As they say, the only way to change somethin’ in your life is to change somethin’ in your life. The sad part is it is often times simple to do, but not easy. Most people will never wake up from their doldrums to realize that, but some do. Though, sometimes they come to the realization that they can’t escape what they so desperately want to escape… themselves. And they end up here.
Eddie calmly waves at the man sitting in the middle of the padded room. Eddie’s form disappears though his deep voice can still be heard.[/color]
Eddie’s Voice: The AW was no different. For too long, Redemption was sinkin’ to the bottom of the world of Sports Entertainment. Complacency was settin’ in thanks to a lack of focused leadership, watered-down talent, and a severe lack of star power. From the management team, to the wrestlers, to the fans, everyone was settlin’ for the new lows that Redemption was producin’ and when somethin’ remarkable would come up and seem about to breathe new life into the suffocatin’ company, someone would screw up in management, someone in the locker room would bitch and somehow, the status quo, the crappy status quo would remain. They had a appetizer World Champion in Spaz. There are those in this company that had drank so much of that piece of crap’s Kool-Aid that they actually are trying to keep his stupid ass legacy alive. Here’s a tip, you can’t bring back the dead. And Louis Anthony, who’s had flashes of brilliance, but when you’re an expert at whinin’ your way to the top and you have the sympathetic ear of some management who had to appease little Louis, you get thrust into the limelight even when everyone knows you don’t deserve it. If Louis decides to stay home or come back, frankly, who gives a rat’s ass?! Like so many who still roam the halls of this company, he’s insignificant.
Eddie’s imposing form reappears a bit behind the madman. Eddie’s fingers are interlocked in front of him and he is looking down at the man in the straight jacket who is now rocking back and forth, mumbling to himself.[/color]
Madman: … he’s coming… he’s coming… he’s coming… he’s coming… la-dee-dee… he’s coming…
Eddie: Look around OW. There are so few who can bring this company up to the stellar level. Nobody knows anymore what it is to become known as one of the greats. To reach the pinnacle of your sport, stay there, get knocked off and come back again and again to that very spot. It takes someone with more character, fortitude determination, tenacity and courage than most are willin’ to ever even attempt at producin’. Too many people in this business are only here to get the quick ride to the top. When they can’t accomplish that in a short enough period of time… usually two or three matches… then they quit. They can’t take the pain and shots at their pathetic self-esteem. Their frail egos can’t take it. So they punk out and try their luck in the next federation until they find one to fit their low skill level, never again challengin’ themselves to improve, work hard, and I mean HARD to rise to the next level.
Yes, Eddie Stitchard has known tremendous success in a long career that has seen numerous titles. I have been on runs that would make our boss, Nero envious. I have won many and lost my fair share. Are those the only things that have carried me to the status I enjoy today? That’s only part of the story. There are also the Hell in a Cell matches that were fought even before they became mainstream. Barded wire matches, Triple Tiered Cage matches with so much hardware available, you could supply a chain of hardware stores, street fights, ladder matches, first blood, last man standin’, iron man matches… you name it, I’ve seen it all. And yeah, I’ve spilt plenty of blood and had my own spilt on many occasions. I’ve sweat and cried for this business and I’ve done it time and time again. Injuries, torn ligaments, broken bones, sprains, strains, stitches, my opponents’ and my own. So what makes a man great in this industry? Crap like that over and over and over. You go down? You get back up, no matter how long it takes. You get back up!
Eddie, who was looking down at the madman the whole time, now turns his intense gaze towards the camera. His green eyes are locked on the camera and those are what demand the most attention in the white room. Eddie’s voice is now picking up in intensity.[/color]
Eddie: That brings me to what’s happenin’ now in the OW. Face it folks, the talent level here is like the Dead Sea, barely a noticeable ripple in the water. No major waves and when one starts somewhere, its quickly killed by the perpetual mediocrity brought about by this new flood of so-called superstars. No one seems able to break the tranquil surface of greatness. Then, the unthinkable happened. A freakin’ atom bomb got dropped and blew those calm waters sky high, sendin’ every crapstain in the company runnin’ for cover, panickin’ that their perfect little world had just been rocked! The Southen Soliders will finally awaken what had become dormant, the fact that Oracle is the dominant brand in the entire sports entertainment industry! I said earlier for those who weren’t payin’ attention, there was no real common purpose. No real sense of direction. No leadership. But now, The Southen Soliders have arrived and all of a sudden, trumpets are blarin’. Alarms are soundin’ off everywhere and a major call to arms has come about because everyone’s scared shitless of what may come as we will move forward with our plans. You see, it was so easy. It will be near effortless to come in and do what we have done so far. In only a handful of weeks, Southen Soliders will wreaked more havoc than has been seen in the hallowed wrestling world in far too long.
We will be like impendin’ doom. You know somethin’s comin’ but you first don’t want to admit that somethin’ needs to happen and will happen. But like a car wreck, you see it playin’ itself out but are powerless to stop it. So you go about your same old, same old routines, playin’ your stupid games, ignorin’ the fact that the wrestling world had become very ill and only becomin’ sicker and sicker with every match that saw the likes of the most undesirable talents ever seen here take the stage. People like Hayden Raine, Lilith and of course, the ever incompetent, Spaz. There are others, but lets face it, they’re a bunch of forgettable nobodies.
Eddie pauses here and he disappears again. This time, he materializes a few feet in front and to the right of the madman rocking back and forth on the floor, staring off into nothing. Still staring down at the camera, Eddie continues.[/color]
Eddie: This game has only begun. Rest assured, your bodies will be broken and so far, your little minds have been so easy to toy with. You think this is all about power. You think this is all about honor or a lack of. What you don’t realize is that you will be taught a severe lesson here boy. Now I realizes that you will all do your best to resist, to somehow try and stop the inevitable. But you see, your like a small child who refuses to take his medicine. You’ll fight and thrash, kick and scream and make a big show, but in the end, all I have to do is pin you down and pinch your nose and you’ll take your medicine, unwillin’ly at first, but when you slowly come to terms that this is for not only for your own good but for the entire OW, everyone will thank me in the end.
El Chronico's already done away with the preliminaries, now the road continues with you spastic, inbred puke Spaz. Your coming out of retirement has been impressive. You got off to a bit of a slow start, but came along and began to make a name for yourself again, won your first few fights undefeated. You’ve won some matches here and there and now you’re at the top of this company. And once again, that is another example of the insanity that has become the norm in the wrestling world. If you’re an example of the next big thing in OW or worldwide, then it is a sad state of affairs in this company. So many great names have come to call the OW home and while you may some day become known as one of the greats, it won’t happen next Sunday at Oracle.
The man in the straight jacket behind Eddie begins to mumble a bit louder and rock back and forth a bit faster. This does not phase Eddie.[/color]
Eddie: So you’re the first of the chickens to step up to the choppin’ block, huh? In the face of the juggernaut known as El Chronico, you decide that you will be the one to make a stand and do whatever it takes to keep the OW in the depths of mediocrity. No surprise really. No one has ever accused you of bein’ one of the smart ones. I mean, you are the poster boy of the mundane around here. And like a culinary desperate for attention, you will on occasion attempt to make yourself out to be this sick and sadistic individual that will do crazy things to make people believe you are sick and sadistic. Arson may entertain the natives in some long, lost civilization in the Amazon somewhere, but it makes you look like a complete moron to everyone else. You see Spaz, you try to make changes to rise to the top, but it comes down to nothin’ more than a few lame attempts at bein’ different before you settle back in for what you find comfortable in life. You have no idea what it means to do what it takes to go to the next level. To be named in the same breath of the other greats in the history of this industry.
I know exactly what that means! I have made a livin’ doin’ that very thing little punk ass bitches like you, think they’re the latest and greatest innovators in this business, that they have what it takes to carry an entire company to the top. When the brutal reality is that they couldn’t carry bullshit and deep down, they and yes, I mean you Spaz, know it! There’s a reason that when Eddie Stitchard's name appears on a card, it’s an automatic sell out. People know they will be treated to the best technical and brutal genius in the business. They know someone is goin’ to get their ass kicked and that I will give it my all, puttin’ on another devastatin’ly electrifyin’ show, wantin’ to see first-hand the brand of punishment that only I can deliver night after night. And you can beat the hell out of me, but I keep comin’ and comin’. Like the waves of the ocean, it’s neverendin’.
Now, Spaz since you and those Raine's are the posterboys for everythin’ that’s lame and pathetic in the OW, it’s up to The Southen Soliders to teach you somethin’ that you should have been taught long ago, but no one was apparently man enough to get the job done. I may not be able to control what you bring to the ring next Sunday, but here’s what you can expect from the one and only, Eddie Stitchard. You will get the full force! All the rage, all the focused intensity, all the destructive moves that have left so many broken bodies and careers in my wake. And then you throw in the likes of Anoton and Brooklyn on my side and just what the hell do you possibly think you can accomplish against us?! Gettin’ your ass kicked is about the only thing you qualify to do. Don’t take my word for it. That fact will be proven next Sunday. Now, you can come out here and downplay my abilities, but unlike you, I’ve been able to prove my worth over the long haul. Have I been foolish in the past, puttin’ my body in harm’s way? Of course, you don’t make it to the top by half-assin’ it in the ring and never takin’ chances, riskin’ yourself for somethin’ greater. You can come out with stupid little threats and one-liners that might scare the grade school kids back in your neighborhood, but you look a little more than another backwood, inbred jackass whos better days are behind him. I know Spaz. You look back and there’s not really that much to be proud of, to hang your hat on as a definin’ moment in your life, let alone your career. Exactly! Your future is grim pal. And El Chronico stands before you now and next Sunday night will deliver you and anyone else dumb enough to cross my path straight to the infirmary. There will be no room for mercy.
Eddie’s eyes flash with an intense flame that burns within the wrestling great.[/color]
Eddie: Be at your absolute best. Bring everythin’ you can muster. Every trick, every move, every stinkin’ thing you’ve ever learned in this industry and bring it to the ring next Sunday night. That is the ONLY way you will live to fight another day. If for one split second you let down your guard and not go all out, I will end you! There will be no dawn for your dusk! To try and look past me or come unprepared would be like showin’ up for a sword fight with a pocket knife. Yeah, there’s the slight possibility of victory, even with the odds stacked strongly against me. And whether you want to believe it or not, that is the situation you find yourself in next Sunday night. Your good friends the Raine's better be nearby because then, and only then might they find a way to save your ass! Spaz vs Eddie will be like a savages beatin’ on a children. Hell, I could very well be arrested after this for freakin’ culinary abuse! That may sound like overconfidence to you, but I’ve fought these battles before and against men whom you wouldn’t even qualify to lace up their boots. Am I still at the same level, or above and beyond that level? Well, you will find out first-hand at Oracle.
Have I gotten under your skin, Spaz? Have I pissed you off? No? You’re all too proud to show it huh? Fine. Just remember this, boy. Next Sunday night, in front of millions of people watchin’, I will decimate your ass and since you seem to think that I’m predictable as hell, then there will be no surprises at to what I will do. But the sad thing for you is this Spaz… you will be absolutely powerless to stop the onslaught. Rally the troops, put out a call to arms, go to church, confess your sins, make your piece with God, train your asses off, though Lydia may die of a damned heart attack in that case, but do whatever you have to do to make sure you are at your absolute best! ‘Cause in the end, I don’t want any excuses why this “deranged man” handed you your ass and more importantly planted a seed of doubt as to what you can actually accomplish in this business. Greatness or another mediocre career of some guy who was real good, but over time showed that he did not have what it takes to REALLY run with the big dogs. I’m bettin’ on the latter Spaz, Fat and Furious… prove me wrong. Prove me wrong.
Eddie pauses and takes a deep breath. A weary smile creases his lips.[/color]
Eddie: The God of War has been summoned. Havoc and destruction are left in his wake. Fear and panic are all that’s left in his path. Many run, some hide, but in the end, they ALL succumb to his awesome might! Prepare to face the face of fear! Prepare to face the Walkin’ Razor Blade! Prepare to face the one and only, El Chronico! He’s comin’! Get ready for it!
Eddie’s dark form disappears as the room is suddenly thrown into pitch darkness. The man in the straight jacket begins to scream and from the sounds in the dark, is thrashing around the room in a horrified panic. The lights come on and four men rush in to restrain him. The poor soul is screaming…[/color]
Madman: HE IS HERE!!! GOD HELP US ALL!!! HE IS HERE!!! AAAARGHH!!!
The four men throw him down and manage to drag him out, leaving the white, padded room empty. The scene fades to black.[/color]
The camera bursts through the double doors and into bright light. Beyond another set of doors, the camera comes into a room with a lone table used to restrain people who are having a momentary of loss of self control, lets say. On the table is a man who is thrashing violently against the six men who are trying desperately to hold him down and place him in the leather restraints. The man has a completely disheveled look about him and wild-eyed to say the least. Tears are running down his face as he lets out a piercing scream. He kicks violently at the men around him who slowly manage to place his arms and legs in the restraints. Again, he screams with such horror that even a few of the orderlies look extremely nervous. Between wracking sobs, some words can be made out.[/color]
Madman: NOOOO!!!! LET ME GO!!!! You’ve got to let me outta here!!!
He gets an arm delicious momentarily before the orderly gets it right back and with a leather strap in one hand.[/color]
Madman: NOOO!!! Don’t you see?! He’s coming to get ME!!! You’ve got to let me out of here! HE’S COMING!!!
Again, the man thrashes against his restraints. Aside from pulling them tight against their anchors, the man cannot break his bonds. He tries several times, but to no avail. He is trapped there. The older orderlies leave the room, seeing that there is nothing more to be done at that moment. The younger ones stay behind to keep an eye on the man who would harm others and also himself. They also stay behind to see just how far man can deteriorate which is not something you would see much of in textbooks. They keep their distance before a rather rotund lady enters the room. Dressed in regular nursing fatigues, the lady has a tray in her hands. She places the tray away from the table and picks up a syringe. She checks it before taking the madman’s arm and injecting him with the liquid inside the syringe. The man’s body goes limp within seconds and his eyes soften to a much more relaxed expression. The scene fades out…
… The scene reopens inside a white padded room. There is a door with a tiny window in it, but is not so easily spotted. It is well lit and really white. The man from earlier has been locked inside, dressed in a full straight jacket. He looks sad and afraid as his eyes are downcast. Though, every now and again, his eyes dart sharply left and right, as if looking for someone or something, only to return quickly to their sad and fearful expression. Suddenly, a familiar voice begins to speak. It is not speaking to the man directly and he seems not to hear it. For aside from intermittent mumbling, some sobbing, and his eyes darting, his routine in the padded room does not change. The familiar voice starts.[/color]
Eddie’s voice: "No one knows the depths of the human mind. Its potential and capacity are nearly without limits. And no matter what humans uncover about its workin’s, more mysteries are revealed seemin’ly every time one discovery is made. What makes some people do what they do? What makes some people better at such things as sports, music, art and others mathematical and literary geniuses? What makes others complete and utter morons and cursed with complete stupidity and lacking in basic common sense? Then, what makes some people so good and pure and others so vile and evil? Some people have vision for the future and others have mere sight, but can barely see the present. What takes some men to the edge where they thrive and others are taken to the same edge, but fall over into the oblivion of mediocrity and self-defeatist attitudes? Look all around the world. They’re everywhere. Examples of all of these and much, much more.
Suddenly, in the picture of the white room appears Southen Soilder's member, Eddie Stitchard materializes, standing with his arms crossed in one of the padded room’s corners looking down at the straight-jacketed man who is not aware of his presence. Without missing a beat, Eddie goes on.[/color]
Eddie: You can break a man physically and he can survive. Look at a man like Victor Frankl whom the Nazis took all they could, but could not crack the safe that was his brilliant mind. He survived through some of the most incredibly horrifyin’ times in human history. He made his life mean somethin’. But on the flip side, if you can break a man mentally, then he is truly defeated. You want proof? Look at the millions of North Americans who have settled into lives of weakness, mediocrity, mundane and as some would call, normal lives. Never do they venture far from their zones of complete comfort, even though they are miserable and slowly dyin’ there. They are like frogs slowly boilin’ to death. You all know. Take a frog and throw him into boilin’ hot water and he will jump out and save itself. But, take that frog and place him in cool water and slowly set the water to boil. It will simply boil to death, never even attemptin’ to jump to safety. Look around, it’s happenin’ everywhere. Though people do make some attempts at temporarily leavin’ that comfort zone. They live lives of quiet desperation, playin’ recipe games, watchin’ TV, take part in Survivor pools, buy lottery tickets, read fantasy books, tryin’ to live vicariously through any means possible. Anythin’ to somehow temporarily live outside of their lowly comfort zones. Yet it never works, not for very long. What they hope for never seems to happen and it never does for those who look for the quick fix, the easy way to the top. Life is not made that way. It takes much more than simple luck to make changes in one’s life. As they say, the only way to change somethin’ in your life is to change somethin’ in your life. The sad part is it is often times simple to do, but not easy. Most people will never wake up from their doldrums to realize that, but some do. Though, sometimes they come to the realization that they can’t escape what they so desperately want to escape… themselves. And they end up here.
Eddie calmly waves at the man sitting in the middle of the padded room. Eddie’s form disappears though his deep voice can still be heard.[/color]
Eddie’s Voice: The AW was no different. For too long, Redemption was sinkin’ to the bottom of the world of Sports Entertainment. Complacency was settin’ in thanks to a lack of focused leadership, watered-down talent, and a severe lack of star power. From the management team, to the wrestlers, to the fans, everyone was settlin’ for the new lows that Redemption was producin’ and when somethin’ remarkable would come up and seem about to breathe new life into the suffocatin’ company, someone would screw up in management, someone in the locker room would bitch and somehow, the status quo, the crappy status quo would remain. They had a appetizer World Champion in Spaz. There are those in this company that had drank so much of that piece of crap’s Kool-Aid that they actually are trying to keep his stupid ass legacy alive. Here’s a tip, you can’t bring back the dead. And Louis Anthony, who’s had flashes of brilliance, but when you’re an expert at whinin’ your way to the top and you have the sympathetic ear of some management who had to appease little Louis, you get thrust into the limelight even when everyone knows you don’t deserve it. If Louis decides to stay home or come back, frankly, who gives a rat’s ass?! Like so many who still roam the halls of this company, he’s insignificant.
Eddie’s imposing form reappears a bit behind the madman. Eddie’s fingers are interlocked in front of him and he is looking down at the man in the straight jacket who is now rocking back and forth, mumbling to himself.[/color]
Madman: … he’s coming… he’s coming… he’s coming… he’s coming… la-dee-dee… he’s coming…
Eddie: Look around OW. There are so few who can bring this company up to the stellar level. Nobody knows anymore what it is to become known as one of the greats. To reach the pinnacle of your sport, stay there, get knocked off and come back again and again to that very spot. It takes someone with more character, fortitude determination, tenacity and courage than most are willin’ to ever even attempt at producin’. Too many people in this business are only here to get the quick ride to the top. When they can’t accomplish that in a short enough period of time… usually two or three matches… then they quit. They can’t take the pain and shots at their pathetic self-esteem. Their frail egos can’t take it. So they punk out and try their luck in the next federation until they find one to fit their low skill level, never again challengin’ themselves to improve, work hard, and I mean HARD to rise to the next level.
Yes, Eddie Stitchard has known tremendous success in a long career that has seen numerous titles. I have been on runs that would make our boss, Nero envious. I have won many and lost my fair share. Are those the only things that have carried me to the status I enjoy today? That’s only part of the story. There are also the Hell in a Cell matches that were fought even before they became mainstream. Barded wire matches, Triple Tiered Cage matches with so much hardware available, you could supply a chain of hardware stores, street fights, ladder matches, first blood, last man standin’, iron man matches… you name it, I’ve seen it all. And yeah, I’ve spilt plenty of blood and had my own spilt on many occasions. I’ve sweat and cried for this business and I’ve done it time and time again. Injuries, torn ligaments, broken bones, sprains, strains, stitches, my opponents’ and my own. So what makes a man great in this industry? Crap like that over and over and over. You go down? You get back up, no matter how long it takes. You get back up!
Eddie, who was looking down at the madman the whole time, now turns his intense gaze towards the camera. His green eyes are locked on the camera and those are what demand the most attention in the white room. Eddie’s voice is now picking up in intensity.[/color]
Eddie: That brings me to what’s happenin’ now in the OW. Face it folks, the talent level here is like the Dead Sea, barely a noticeable ripple in the water. No major waves and when one starts somewhere, its quickly killed by the perpetual mediocrity brought about by this new flood of so-called superstars. No one seems able to break the tranquil surface of greatness. Then, the unthinkable happened. A freakin’ atom bomb got dropped and blew those calm waters sky high, sendin’ every crapstain in the company runnin’ for cover, panickin’ that their perfect little world had just been rocked! The Southen Soliders will finally awaken what had become dormant, the fact that Oracle is the dominant brand in the entire sports entertainment industry! I said earlier for those who weren’t payin’ attention, there was no real common purpose. No real sense of direction. No leadership. But now, The Southen Soliders have arrived and all of a sudden, trumpets are blarin’. Alarms are soundin’ off everywhere and a major call to arms has come about because everyone’s scared shitless of what may come as we will move forward with our plans. You see, it was so easy. It will be near effortless to come in and do what we have done so far. In only a handful of weeks, Southen Soliders will wreaked more havoc than has been seen in the hallowed wrestling world in far too long.
We will be like impendin’ doom. You know somethin’s comin’ but you first don’t want to admit that somethin’ needs to happen and will happen. But like a car wreck, you see it playin’ itself out but are powerless to stop it. So you go about your same old, same old routines, playin’ your stupid games, ignorin’ the fact that the wrestling world had become very ill and only becomin’ sicker and sicker with every match that saw the likes of the most undesirable talents ever seen here take the stage. People like Hayden Raine, Lilith and of course, the ever incompetent, Spaz. There are others, but lets face it, they’re a bunch of forgettable nobodies.
Eddie pauses here and he disappears again. This time, he materializes a few feet in front and to the right of the madman rocking back and forth on the floor, staring off into nothing. Still staring down at the camera, Eddie continues.[/color]
Eddie: This game has only begun. Rest assured, your bodies will be broken and so far, your little minds have been so easy to toy with. You think this is all about power. You think this is all about honor or a lack of. What you don’t realize is that you will be taught a severe lesson here boy. Now I realizes that you will all do your best to resist, to somehow try and stop the inevitable. But you see, your like a small child who refuses to take his medicine. You’ll fight and thrash, kick and scream and make a big show, but in the end, all I have to do is pin you down and pinch your nose and you’ll take your medicine, unwillin’ly at first, but when you slowly come to terms that this is for not only for your own good but for the entire OW, everyone will thank me in the end.
El Chronico's already done away with the preliminaries, now the road continues with you spastic, inbred puke Spaz. Your coming out of retirement has been impressive. You got off to a bit of a slow start, but came along and began to make a name for yourself again, won your first few fights undefeated. You’ve won some matches here and there and now you’re at the top of this company. And once again, that is another example of the insanity that has become the norm in the wrestling world. If you’re an example of the next big thing in OW or worldwide, then it is a sad state of affairs in this company. So many great names have come to call the OW home and while you may some day become known as one of the greats, it won’t happen next Sunday at Oracle.
The man in the straight jacket behind Eddie begins to mumble a bit louder and rock back and forth a bit faster. This does not phase Eddie.[/color]
Eddie: So you’re the first of the chickens to step up to the choppin’ block, huh? In the face of the juggernaut known as El Chronico, you decide that you will be the one to make a stand and do whatever it takes to keep the OW in the depths of mediocrity. No surprise really. No one has ever accused you of bein’ one of the smart ones. I mean, you are the poster boy of the mundane around here. And like a culinary desperate for attention, you will on occasion attempt to make yourself out to be this sick and sadistic individual that will do crazy things to make people believe you are sick and sadistic. Arson may entertain the natives in some long, lost civilization in the Amazon somewhere, but it makes you look like a complete moron to everyone else. You see Spaz, you try to make changes to rise to the top, but it comes down to nothin’ more than a few lame attempts at bein’ different before you settle back in for what you find comfortable in life. You have no idea what it means to do what it takes to go to the next level. To be named in the same breath of the other greats in the history of this industry.
I know exactly what that means! I have made a livin’ doin’ that very thing little punk ass bitches like you, think they’re the latest and greatest innovators in this business, that they have what it takes to carry an entire company to the top. When the brutal reality is that they couldn’t carry bullshit and deep down, they and yes, I mean you Spaz, know it! There’s a reason that when Eddie Stitchard's name appears on a card, it’s an automatic sell out. People know they will be treated to the best technical and brutal genius in the business. They know someone is goin’ to get their ass kicked and that I will give it my all, puttin’ on another devastatin’ly electrifyin’ show, wantin’ to see first-hand the brand of punishment that only I can deliver night after night. And you can beat the hell out of me, but I keep comin’ and comin’. Like the waves of the ocean, it’s neverendin’.
Now, Spaz since you and those Raine's are the posterboys for everythin’ that’s lame and pathetic in the OW, it’s up to The Southen Soliders to teach you somethin’ that you should have been taught long ago, but no one was apparently man enough to get the job done. I may not be able to control what you bring to the ring next Sunday, but here’s what you can expect from the one and only, Eddie Stitchard. You will get the full force! All the rage, all the focused intensity, all the destructive moves that have left so many broken bodies and careers in my wake. And then you throw in the likes of Anoton and Brooklyn on my side and just what the hell do you possibly think you can accomplish against us?! Gettin’ your ass kicked is about the only thing you qualify to do. Don’t take my word for it. That fact will be proven next Sunday. Now, you can come out here and downplay my abilities, but unlike you, I’ve been able to prove my worth over the long haul. Have I been foolish in the past, puttin’ my body in harm’s way? Of course, you don’t make it to the top by half-assin’ it in the ring and never takin’ chances, riskin’ yourself for somethin’ greater. You can come out with stupid little threats and one-liners that might scare the grade school kids back in your neighborhood, but you look a little more than another backwood, inbred jackass whos better days are behind him. I know Spaz. You look back and there’s not really that much to be proud of, to hang your hat on as a definin’ moment in your life, let alone your career. Exactly! Your future is grim pal. And El Chronico stands before you now and next Sunday night will deliver you and anyone else dumb enough to cross my path straight to the infirmary. There will be no room for mercy.
Eddie’s eyes flash with an intense flame that burns within the wrestling great.[/color]
Eddie: Be at your absolute best. Bring everythin’ you can muster. Every trick, every move, every stinkin’ thing you’ve ever learned in this industry and bring it to the ring next Sunday night. That is the ONLY way you will live to fight another day. If for one split second you let down your guard and not go all out, I will end you! There will be no dawn for your dusk! To try and look past me or come unprepared would be like showin’ up for a sword fight with a pocket knife. Yeah, there’s the slight possibility of victory, even with the odds stacked strongly against me. And whether you want to believe it or not, that is the situation you find yourself in next Sunday night. Your good friends the Raine's better be nearby because then, and only then might they find a way to save your ass! Spaz vs Eddie will be like a savages beatin’ on a children. Hell, I could very well be arrested after this for freakin’ culinary abuse! That may sound like overconfidence to you, but I’ve fought these battles before and against men whom you wouldn’t even qualify to lace up their boots. Am I still at the same level, or above and beyond that level? Well, you will find out first-hand at Oracle.
Have I gotten under your skin, Spaz? Have I pissed you off? No? You’re all too proud to show it huh? Fine. Just remember this, boy. Next Sunday night, in front of millions of people watchin’, I will decimate your ass and since you seem to think that I’m predictable as hell, then there will be no surprises at to what I will do. But the sad thing for you is this Spaz… you will be absolutely powerless to stop the onslaught. Rally the troops, put out a call to arms, go to church, confess your sins, make your piece with God, train your asses off, though Lydia may die of a damned heart attack in that case, but do whatever you have to do to make sure you are at your absolute best! ‘Cause in the end, I don’t want any excuses why this “deranged man” handed you your ass and more importantly planted a seed of doubt as to what you can actually accomplish in this business. Greatness or another mediocre career of some guy who was real good, but over time showed that he did not have what it takes to REALLY run with the big dogs. I’m bettin’ on the latter Spaz, Fat and Furious… prove me wrong. Prove me wrong.
Eddie pauses and takes a deep breath. A weary smile creases his lips.[/color]
Eddie: The God of War has been summoned. Havoc and destruction are left in his wake. Fear and panic are all that’s left in his path. Many run, some hide, but in the end, they ALL succumb to his awesome might! Prepare to face the face of fear! Prepare to face the Walkin’ Razor Blade! Prepare to face the one and only, El Chronico! He’s comin’! Get ready for it!
Eddie’s dark form disappears as the room is suddenly thrown into pitch darkness. The man in the straight jacket begins to scream and from the sounds in the dark, is thrashing around the room in a horrified panic. The lights come on and four men rush in to restrain him. The poor soul is screaming…[/color]
Madman: HE IS HERE!!! GOD HELP US ALL!!! HE IS HERE!!! AAAARGHH!!!
The four men throw him down and manage to drag him out, leaving the white, padded room empty. The scene fades to black.[/color]