| Weezle | Date: Saturday, 2011/08/13, 8:44 PM | Message # 1 |
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Development
Group: EWA Roster
Messages: 11
Status: Offline
| ||Soundtrack: “Set it Off” – Audioslave||
“Buck Evans you sorry son of a BITCH!!”
||An irate Weezle paces around a locker room backstage after Shatter Point, nostrils flaring, and hands still grasping his new best friend: a metal pipe.||
“You want to make a statement using ME?! Listen, whatever lover’s tiff you have going on with management, I couldn’t give a rats ass about, but now… now you’ve gone and dragged me into it. All I wanted to do at Shatter Point was to have the match with Jason that I was denied a few weeks ago. Then… then you had to stick that zit covered nose of yours into MY FUCKING BUSINESS!!”
*SLAM*
||Weezle cracks the pipe against a locker, leaving a large dent in the door.||
“Is there a giant ‘Kick Me’ sign on my back?! First I get laid out backstage… Then I have my career put on the line because of it… Now you come out and ruin my match. What the mothercluck is the matter with this place?! Ya know Buck, now I’m starting to get a little suspicious. The way you so cowardly entered the fray earlier tonight, starts to make me wonder. Starts to make me wonder if this isn’t the first time you’ve hit from behind like I’m a fresh fish in prison.”
“Is that it? That’s what you like to do? Hit guys from behind?! Look, whatever lifestyle choices you want to make, that’s cool. It’s the twenty-first century. Just leave me out of it, okay? I’ve got enough problems without having to guard my ass from the Buck Evans thirty-second Magic Ride. So how about this? How about you stop being a giant raging vagina and man up? How about you want to be a champ, you start acting like one. How about if you want to attack me, take a second from jerking off to midget tranny porn and meet me face-to-face in the ring.”
“Now I know that to someone like you, that’s something strange. Honour?! Integrity?! Testicular Fortitude?! Who needs that when you can pretend you’re a badass by making cowardly attacks, then bitching and moaning about the fine print in their contract??”
“Oh yeah, REAL fucking Outlaw. ‘THERE’S NO DEFINITION OF WHAT CHAMPION I AM!! WAAAH!! THERE’S NO BROWN M&Ms IN MY LOCKER ROOM!! WAAAH!! THERE’S NO 98 DEGREES CDS FOR ME TO JERK OFF TO!! WAAAH!!’”
“You want to be a Champion, Buck, nut the fuck up and start acting like one. Stop being such a whiney little runt, and try this thing called wrestling. Try being a man. Outlaw? Pfft. The closest you’ve been to an Outlaw was sitting in glory hole room in a biker bar.”
“And if you’ve got a problem with me, you know exactly where to find me.”
||Fade out||
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