| Weezle | Date: Friday, 2011/07/15, 11:37 PM | Message # 1 |
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Development
Group: EWA Roster
Messages: 11
Status: Offline
| *grooooaaaaan*
||Fade in||
||A tired and weary Weezle let’s a long, slow, mournful sound out as he wanders through a park in his hometown of Ottawa. Like the last sound emitted by a dying animal, it’s raw, guttural, and sounds more beastly than human.||
“Attacked… attacked from behind…”
||Weezle walks slowly, purposefully through the grass. His shoes and jeans wet with dew as one would expect from walking around at a time when it’s too late to be night, and too early to be morning.||
“Attacked by a nameless, faceless, shameless punk. This is the god-damn mess I’ve got myself into.”
||Wearing scruffy jeans, a well-worn corduroy jacket, and black shirt, Weezle looks like someone that anyone with a right mind would take the long way around to avoid.||
“This is what I signed up for? This is what I thought happened in what’s supposed to be the ‘Greatest Promotion’ out there?! Yeah, fuck that.”
||With his shoulders hunched, brow furrowed, and face scowled, the normally friendly temperament has clearly disappeared from Weezle some time ago.||
“When I saw guys like Buzzsaw and the Mayhems in EWA, I was naive enough to believe that this company would have wrestlers that settled their shit in the ring. That had the fucking cojones to man up and face someone. But nah, same shit, different god-damn day.”
“Now I’m not blaming Jason Xavier. It could be you for all I fucking know, but I have no reason to see you as someone other than an opportunist. Jason, as of right now, unless I’m informed otherwise, I have no reason to hold you responsible for attacking me blindly backstage. And here’s something not a lot of people would predict me to say…”
||Weezle stands up straight in his tracks, facing the camera with square shoulders.||
“Congratulations.”
“…Seriously. Congratulations on your first win. Was it a great match? Are you proud of how you got your first win? No, and I hope not. But at the end of the day, when people look in the record books, all they’re going to see is Jason Xavier picking up his first singles win in EWA against Weezle. So congratulations.”
||Weezle squints as his shoulders roll forward and the scowl reappears on his face.||
“But don’t think even for one second that I will not forget this. Oh no, I will not let that, my first singles defeat, be forgotten. Especially given how it happened.”
||Perking up, a sick smile creeps across Weezle’s face.||
“But for now, for now… that is not my priority. Because the powers that be, the powers that be in their infinite wisdom, have decided that I am dead weight. That I am borderline useless.”
||Weezle presses a white-knuckled fist into his free hand until his knuckles crack, and clenches his jaw so tight he is unable to speak. Tight lipped, he is finally able to mutter his next words.||
“To be put in this position… to be put in a match with my career in this company on the line, a mere week after being so cowardly attacked… well… fine.”
“Fine.”
||Weezle looks up to the still-dark sky and screams.||
“FINE!!”
“Maybe this is what it took. Maybe this is the fucking kick in the ass I needed. ‘You think you’re the shit, Weezle? You think you belong here with fucking legends?! PROVE IT!! Prove it you cocksucker!!’”
“My mistake! I wanted to come in here and be nice. I wanted to come in here and show that honour and dignity would prevail. And now, now it’s kill or be killed. Now if I want my EWA career to continue, I have to end someone’s career. I don’t know if it’s one or two people leaving, and quite frankly, I don’t care anymore.”
“That’s it. I’m done caring about everyone else. Since it’s quite fucking clear that no one is going to look out for me, I’m done. It’s time to get selfish. It’s time to kick guys in the balls, and punch them in the kidneys when they go down. It’s time to bite, scratch, and claw to make sure that I STAY HERE!!”
||Frothing at the mouth, a stream of spit flies out of Weezle’s mouth.||
“You win, EWA. I get it… I GET IT NOW!! You want ruthless? You pure aggression? You’re going to get it. Yeah, I’m down. Yeah, I’m wounded, YEAH, I FEEL LIKE A USELESS, WORTHLESS, PIECE OF SHIT!!”
||Weezle pants, sucking in air to calm himself down.||
“And right now, Jason and Madison, that makes me the scariest person in that match. I will do whatever it takes to win that match. I will stoop to new lows to win that match. I would stomp a baby and kick a puppy if it would help me win that match!!”
“Like a junkie needing a fix, that victory is a needle full of black tar heroin. That bell keeper may as well be holding a straw and guarding an eight-ball of the finest Colombian blow. And you two… you two are trying to take that away. YOU WANT TO SEE DEMON EYES?! Take a second before that bell rings and look at my face.”
||Weezle turns and starts to walk away.||
“But don’t wait too long, because the second that bell rings…I am literally fighting for my life.”
||Fade out||
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