SRadder
Bull On Parade
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 43
- Points
- 0
(FADEIN to STEVE RADDER standing at the bar of an outdoor club, still in Texas.)
STEVE RADDER : Now, I never said I was the smartest man in the world, I'll be the first to admit that. Hey, it's true. I am, however, smart enough to see a no-good dime-a-dozen mook when I see one, and, island-boy, I see one ... scratch that, two ... of them when I sit down and watch one of those train wrecks that you call a promo. All that aside, pal, there's some serious flaws in your reasoning.
(RADDER takes a sip of his beer, pauses to think, then continues.)
STEVE RADDER : You just don't understand, pal. You can say you don't care about winning, all that matters is pride, and then fans will like you just because you and your pal are gonna put on a show here in the CSWA. You have no experience in this business. I do. Put aside all your blustering about your pride, about how stupid I am, and all the rest, and listen for a second.
(RADDER sips from the pint again.)
STEVE RADDER : Ready? Good. Remember that guy, the Brooklyn Brawler? Yeah, him. He didn't win either, and he sure put on a show, what with his beer belly, unshaven face, and tear in his shirt. That was some kind of show. Hell, it was more entertaining than yours. The fans were behind him, you're right, but it took, what, 20 years of him losing every single time for them to love him? Did he sell a single bit of merchandise at all during that time? Maybe to his mama. Then again, maybe not. Now, now, now, shut up your face before you tell me again about how the money earned doesn't matter. It might not. But it sure as hell is a good indication of if the fans like you or not. And all they are going to like about you, believe me, is watching me whop you all over the place at ON TIME.
(RADDER polishes off the rest of the beer, wipes his mouth, and steps away from the bar.)
STEVE RADDER : You're the hunter? I'm the hunted? You go on thinking that. If that's the case, pal, you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into.
STEVE RADDER : Now, I never said I was the smartest man in the world, I'll be the first to admit that. Hey, it's true. I am, however, smart enough to see a no-good dime-a-dozen mook when I see one, and, island-boy, I see one ... scratch that, two ... of them when I sit down and watch one of those train wrecks that you call a promo. All that aside, pal, there's some serious flaws in your reasoning.
(RADDER takes a sip of his beer, pauses to think, then continues.)
STEVE RADDER : You just don't understand, pal. You can say you don't care about winning, all that matters is pride, and then fans will like you just because you and your pal are gonna put on a show here in the CSWA. You have no experience in this business. I do. Put aside all your blustering about your pride, about how stupid I am, and all the rest, and listen for a second.
(RADDER sips from the pint again.)
STEVE RADDER : Ready? Good. Remember that guy, the Brooklyn Brawler? Yeah, him. He didn't win either, and he sure put on a show, what with his beer belly, unshaven face, and tear in his shirt. That was some kind of show. Hell, it was more entertaining than yours. The fans were behind him, you're right, but it took, what, 20 years of him losing every single time for them to love him? Did he sell a single bit of merchandise at all during that time? Maybe to his mama. Then again, maybe not. Now, now, now, shut up your face before you tell me again about how the money earned doesn't matter. It might not. But it sure as hell is a good indication of if the fans like you or not. And all they are going to like about you, believe me, is watching me whop you all over the place at ON TIME.
(RADDER polishes off the rest of the beer, wipes his mouth, and steps away from the bar.)
STEVE RADDER : You're the hunter? I'm the hunted? You go on thinking that. If that's the case, pal, you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into.