AGGRESSION 49: MAIN EVENT - Anarky & Shawn Hart (c) vs. Sean Stevens (c) & Larry Tact
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JLevinson
Diva Tree
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Re: AGGRESSION 49: MAIN EVENT - Anarky & Shawn Hart (c) vs. Sean Stevens (c) & Larry
(FADEIN to an empty locker room. It looks like parts of it haven’t been used in years. Anarky is slumped over on a bench between empty lockers. He slowly reaches into his pocket and flips a coin that clangs to the floor.)
ANARKY: “That’s all it takes. One moment. One second. To change everything. A flip of the coin. A roll of the dice.
“That’s how close I came to you, Sean. That’s how close we came to Stevens/Anarky. Ice Tre picks Westcott instead of me, and that’s it.
“Someone else’s body slumped over… earning a shot. By just being the unconscious body on top. It’s that easy.
“Not for everyone, of course. The First has gone mad in his quest to usurp you. Perhaps. Perhaps I’m not the man to decide who’s mad.
“No matter, Sean. We’re not really here about the past. Or at least, I’m not. I don’t really care about Westcott or JA or anybody other coward who cannot accept the ultimate disgrace of falling short to you.
“The thing is, Sean… in some way, I think you fascinate me. I have watched with… piqued interest… as you take on challenger after challenger. Each one more certain than the last than HE is the one. Destiny’s hand has blessed them each and every last one… right?
“Not me, though, Sean. You’re going to find that things are quite different for me. The First didn’t recruit me and Shawn because we thought we had some special place here.
“My buddy Shawn… well, we go way back. Shawn, well… Shawn is still driven by the glory. Like you, Shawn is mostly just looking to take erotic pictures of himself in a mirror wearing only a Championship Belt of some kind.
“Men like Larry Tact are motivated by something else… some call to greatness… for achievement and success in of itself, not the glory it produces. Sadly for Larry, this is not motivation enough.
“Do you know, Sean… do you know what it is I felt as Larry and I careened off the top of a cage together? Do you know what passed through my mind for those brief moments before we came hurtling to the concrete floor below us?
“I felt happy. Because I would do anything to destroy Larry Tact. And I would do it again and again and again.
“But don’t worry, baby… it probably seems personal. Like Larry and I have some special bond. I assure you, we do not.
“Larry admires me, and quite frankly, I find the whole thing a little uncomfortable. Admiration and respect… these are things Anthology requires. Worship and adulation. This is why you exist. To be exalted.
“Well I shall never worship you… because no matter what happens, whether Larry Tact or Shawn Hart can even be bothered to show up… I will be here for you, Stevens.
“It is time you and I came to know one another. I could say I’ve been looking forward to it, but the truth is, Sean… all your victories… that shiny little gold belt around your waist… it means nothing to me…
“I have nothing left to prove to you or anybody else. I have chased false idols and I have sought validation and I have come to know how wasted and hollow it all is.
“We ALL are.
“You won’t learn anything from me, Sean. You are too ignorant and proud. You will be convinced of your greatness and superior nature even as I shake your near-lifeless body and let your blood wash over me like a great baptism…
“No, Sean. None of it means anything. I destroy because I can, like God. I am not good or bad. I am just capable.
“The moment you took over Anthology… well, that was the moment you and I were bound to get acquainted. Perhaps Ice Tre protected you. Perhaps he protected me. No matter.
“So bring Larry Tact along with you. I’m sure he’ll love getting to know me again. Bring your other friends. Bring Copycat and Edmunds. Bring the whole family.
“Doesn’t matter to me. Win or lose. Glory or shame.
“Either way, Stevens, I’d say it’s about time you and I got to know one another. And believe me when I say..
“The pleasure will be all mine.”
(FADEOUT.)
(FADEIN to an empty locker room. It looks like parts of it haven’t been used in years. Anarky is slumped over on a bench between empty lockers. He slowly reaches into his pocket and flips a coin that clangs to the floor.)
ANARKY: “That’s all it takes. One moment. One second. To change everything. A flip of the coin. A roll of the dice.
“That’s how close I came to you, Sean. That’s how close we came to Stevens/Anarky. Ice Tre picks Westcott instead of me, and that’s it.
“Someone else’s body slumped over… earning a shot. By just being the unconscious body on top. It’s that easy.
“Not for everyone, of course. The First has gone mad in his quest to usurp you. Perhaps. Perhaps I’m not the man to decide who’s mad.
“No matter, Sean. We’re not really here about the past. Or at least, I’m not. I don’t really care about Westcott or JA or anybody other coward who cannot accept the ultimate disgrace of falling short to you.
“The thing is, Sean… in some way, I think you fascinate me. I have watched with… piqued interest… as you take on challenger after challenger. Each one more certain than the last than HE is the one. Destiny’s hand has blessed them each and every last one… right?
“Not me, though, Sean. You’re going to find that things are quite different for me. The First didn’t recruit me and Shawn because we thought we had some special place here.
“My buddy Shawn… well, we go way back. Shawn, well… Shawn is still driven by the glory. Like you, Shawn is mostly just looking to take erotic pictures of himself in a mirror wearing only a Championship Belt of some kind.
“Men like Larry Tact are motivated by something else… some call to greatness… for achievement and success in of itself, not the glory it produces. Sadly for Larry, this is not motivation enough.
“Do you know, Sean… do you know what it is I felt as Larry and I careened off the top of a cage together? Do you know what passed through my mind for those brief moments before we came hurtling to the concrete floor below us?
“I felt happy. Because I would do anything to destroy Larry Tact. And I would do it again and again and again.
“But don’t worry, baby… it probably seems personal. Like Larry and I have some special bond. I assure you, we do not.
“Larry admires me, and quite frankly, I find the whole thing a little uncomfortable. Admiration and respect… these are things Anthology requires. Worship and adulation. This is why you exist. To be exalted.
“Well I shall never worship you… because no matter what happens, whether Larry Tact or Shawn Hart can even be bothered to show up… I will be here for you, Stevens.
“It is time you and I came to know one another. I could say I’ve been looking forward to it, but the truth is, Sean… all your victories… that shiny little gold belt around your waist… it means nothing to me…
“I have nothing left to prove to you or anybody else. I have chased false idols and I have sought validation and I have come to know how wasted and hollow it all is.
“We ALL are.
“You won’t learn anything from me, Sean. You are too ignorant and proud. You will be convinced of your greatness and superior nature even as I shake your near-lifeless body and let your blood wash over me like a great baptism…
“No, Sean. None of it means anything. I destroy because I can, like God. I am not good or bad. I am just capable.
“The moment you took over Anthology… well, that was the moment you and I were bound to get acquainted. Perhaps Ice Tre protected you. Perhaps he protected me. No matter.
“So bring Larry Tact along with you. I’m sure he’ll love getting to know me again. Bring your other friends. Bring Copycat and Edmunds. Bring the whole family.
“Doesn’t matter to me. Win or lose. Glory or shame.
“Either way, Stevens, I’d say it’s about time you and I got to know one another. And believe me when I say..
“The pleasure will be all mine.”
(FADEOUT.)
jayshort
Long Live THE KING
Re: AGGRESSION 49: MAIN EVENT - Anarky & Shawn Hart (c) vs. Sean Stevens (c) & Larry
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]"The public builds you up to break you down, Anarky. ...but I won't insult your intelligence by assuming you didn't already know that. But, for everyone else that doesn't? If you want to know exactly what that statement means, I'll be more than delighted to tell you." [/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]FADE: The scene opened zoomed in on the face of EPW World Heavyweight Champion, SEAN "TRIPLE X" STEVENS. Slowly, the camera panned backwards, revealing a man, dressed in the finest garments – fit for a king – in front of a green screened image, of the Roman Coliseum. [/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]Four thousand dollar Dolce and Gabanna sunglasses? Check.[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]Forty-five thousand dollar, cream colored, Eton dress shirt made of Egyptian cotton, with the tie to match? You betcha. [/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]One hundred thousand dollar Alexander Amosu suit, one point five million dollar Vacherin Constantin watch, and diamond cufflinks? Check, check ... and, check. [/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]TRIPLE X: It means that Marcus Westcott never stood a chance at replacing your Emperor as EPW King of the Cage. Neither did JA, who attempted to dethrone me before him. It means that Rocko Daymon, Joe The Plumber, Lindsay Troy, Joey Melton, Eli Flair, High Flyer, The Deacon, "The Greatest American Hero" Hornet, and Dan Ryan – a virtual who's who of the wrestling industry – are great, some can even boast of being granted access into a fraternity where only legends reside ... but in the process of solidifying my place in this industry as THE legend, when push came to shove ... I vanquished them all." [/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]The champ boasted, confidently. [/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]TRIPLE X: I am the last man standing, pound for pound, I am the absolute best in the world ... and, there's not a wrestler alive that can justifiably challenge that. But, that leaves wrestling with a dilemma. In an industry filled with drama, and nail biting suspense, I have successfully made it boring. And, that's when the machine came into play. There's no money, no value, no positive gain out of telling the public that Sean Stevens is going to win again. So the EPW machine plays with the public's intelligence, it builds up these "heroes", these people strategically placed in situations designed to sell the audience on the fact that this time, it's going to be different. ...and, while it never is, it gives the audience a prayer, it gives the audience something to believe in. It gives the audience...[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]"... Hope."[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]The EPW World Heavyweight Champion sighed deeply, then continued.[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]TRIPLE X: Just one year ago, nobody knew who Layne Winters was – and, a lot of people still don't. Just one year ago, Brian Nadalny was the weak link of a weak tag team, that reigned over a weak tag division that nobody took seriously ... and Shawn Hart was an Anthology afterthought. Nostradamus wouldn't have predicted such a meteoric rise in position and power in Empire Pro Wrestling, and each of you individuals have succeeded in unrealistically convincing yourselves that it was your hard work that put you in this position. ...which makes you just like everyone else, Anarky.[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]"You think you're here because of destiny? ...fate? Silly rabbit. You're here because the machine ran out of options. That two thousand year old Vampire Slayer, you call a partner, delusionally convinced himself that by kicking his ass soundly three months ago, propelled him to a level that he couldn't reach on his own, and has used my name as a bargaining chip ever since. As a result? He got over. Crowds that loathe me, started to cheer him, not because they love him, but because they're fickle, and will hop on any bandwagon that opposes me ... and, the EPW saw this as an opportunity to sell t-shirts. But, even Dan Ryan was smart enough to realize that The First couldn't do it alone, so he started stringing you all along like puppets, putting you all in situations where your common weaknesses were put on display for the other to admire, and eventually you took the bait."[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]The Emperor of Empire Pro Wrestling unbuckled his one point five million dollar watch, dropping it to the floor carelessly, removed his suit jacket, and began to unbutton his shirt.[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]TRIPLE X: ...and, here you are: Hope. The ragtag, renegade band of warriors vowing to free the Empire from the tyranny of the ruthless Emperor and his peers, The Anthology. [/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]"You hang out in the bowels of the arena."[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]The shirt was completely unbuttoned. Stevens removed it, and tossed it on the ground as if it were trash, and not some commoner's annual salary. [/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]TRIPLE X: You plan sneak attacks, that get the crowd in a frenzy."[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]Next up, was the dress pants. Trip unbuttoned, then unzipped them, stripping down to a pair of black basketball shorts. [/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]TRIPLE X: ...then you pat yourselves on the back for one-upping the rich, evil ruler and compliment each other for believing in something other than the mighty dollar, and being so clever." [/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]All that was left were the sunglasses. The "Blue-Eyed Badass" removed them dropping them on the ground, and crushing them with his foot. Other than his shorts, and tattoos, the champion was now bare.[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]TRIPLE X: But, what you all fail to realize is, before the expensive suits, watches, and fancy sunglasses, back when I was poor, a neophyte, without a dollar to my name ... I had THESE."[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]Sean raised two clenched fists directly in front of the camera.[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]TRIPLE X: And, when the Hollywood soap opera ends, and it's time to roll up my sleeves, and put on my construction boots to get the job done, I have no problem converting, because I am in my element. [/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]"The world keeps looking for holes in my repertoire, for weaknesses in my approach, and point to the flash, in hopes that it means I have no substance, and that's where you all fail. I am not some spoon fed rich guy that bought his way into fortune, fame, and championships ... I am a fighter, that won fortune, fame, and championships through fighting. And, the EPW can build your little group up as threats, and you can create your clever little catch phrases, and t-shirts, but ultimately, the story ends the same way every story ends ... I win and you lose. And, what's worse? I now have a group of peers that believe the same philosophy that I subscribe to: I came, I saw, I conquered."[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]FTB[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]"The public builds you up to break you down, Anarky. ...but I won't insult your intelligence by assuming you didn't already know that. But, for everyone else that doesn't? If you want to know exactly what that statement means, I'll be more than delighted to tell you." [/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]FADE: The scene opened zoomed in on the face of EPW World Heavyweight Champion, SEAN "TRIPLE X" STEVENS. Slowly, the camera panned backwards, revealing a man, dressed in the finest garments – fit for a king – in front of a green screened image, of the Roman Coliseum. [/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]Four thousand dollar Dolce and Gabanna sunglasses? Check.[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]Forty-five thousand dollar, cream colored, Eton dress shirt made of Egyptian cotton, with the tie to match? You betcha. [/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]One hundred thousand dollar Alexander Amosu suit, one point five million dollar Vacherin Constantin watch, and diamond cufflinks? Check, check ... and, check. [/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]TRIPLE X: It means that Marcus Westcott never stood a chance at replacing your Emperor as EPW King of the Cage. Neither did JA, who attempted to dethrone me before him. It means that Rocko Daymon, Joe The Plumber, Lindsay Troy, Joey Melton, Eli Flair, High Flyer, The Deacon, "The Greatest American Hero" Hornet, and Dan Ryan – a virtual who's who of the wrestling industry – are great, some can even boast of being granted access into a fraternity where only legends reside ... but in the process of solidifying my place in this industry as THE legend, when push came to shove ... I vanquished them all." [/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]The champ boasted, confidently. [/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]TRIPLE X: I am the last man standing, pound for pound, I am the absolute best in the world ... and, there's not a wrestler alive that can justifiably challenge that. But, that leaves wrestling with a dilemma. In an industry filled with drama, and nail biting suspense, I have successfully made it boring. And, that's when the machine came into play. There's no money, no value, no positive gain out of telling the public that Sean Stevens is going to win again. So the EPW machine plays with the public's intelligence, it builds up these "heroes", these people strategically placed in situations designed to sell the audience on the fact that this time, it's going to be different. ...and, while it never is, it gives the audience a prayer, it gives the audience something to believe in. It gives the audience...[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]"... Hope."[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]The EPW World Heavyweight Champion sighed deeply, then continued.[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]TRIPLE X: Just one year ago, nobody knew who Layne Winters was – and, a lot of people still don't. Just one year ago, Brian Nadalny was the weak link of a weak tag team, that reigned over a weak tag division that nobody took seriously ... and Shawn Hart was an Anthology afterthought. Nostradamus wouldn't have predicted such a meteoric rise in position and power in Empire Pro Wrestling, and each of you individuals have succeeded in unrealistically convincing yourselves that it was your hard work that put you in this position. ...which makes you just like everyone else, Anarky.[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]"You think you're here because of destiny? ...fate? Silly rabbit. You're here because the machine ran out of options. That two thousand year old Vampire Slayer, you call a partner, delusionally convinced himself that by kicking his ass soundly three months ago, propelled him to a level that he couldn't reach on his own, and has used my name as a bargaining chip ever since. As a result? He got over. Crowds that loathe me, started to cheer him, not because they love him, but because they're fickle, and will hop on any bandwagon that opposes me ... and, the EPW saw this as an opportunity to sell t-shirts. But, even Dan Ryan was smart enough to realize that The First couldn't do it alone, so he started stringing you all along like puppets, putting you all in situations where your common weaknesses were put on display for the other to admire, and eventually you took the bait."[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]The Emperor of Empire Pro Wrestling unbuckled his one point five million dollar watch, dropping it to the floor carelessly, removed his suit jacket, and began to unbutton his shirt.[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]TRIPLE X: ...and, here you are: Hope. The ragtag, renegade band of warriors vowing to free the Empire from the tyranny of the ruthless Emperor and his peers, The Anthology. [/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]"You hang out in the bowels of the arena."[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]The shirt was completely unbuttoned. Stevens removed it, and tossed it on the ground as if it were trash, and not some commoner's annual salary. [/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]TRIPLE X: You plan sneak attacks, that get the crowd in a frenzy."[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]Next up, was the dress pants. Trip unbuttoned, then unzipped them, stripping down to a pair of black basketball shorts. [/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]TRIPLE X: ...then you pat yourselves on the back for one-upping the rich, evil ruler and compliment each other for believing in something other than the mighty dollar, and being so clever." [/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]All that was left were the sunglasses. The "Blue-Eyed Badass" removed them dropping them on the ground, and crushing them with his foot. Other than his shorts, and tattoos, the champion was now bare.[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]TRIPLE X: But, what you all fail to realize is, before the expensive suits, watches, and fancy sunglasses, back when I was poor, a neophyte, without a dollar to my name ... I had THESE."[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]Sean raised two clenched fists directly in front of the camera.[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]TRIPLE X: And, when the Hollywood soap opera ends, and it's time to roll up my sleeves, and put on my construction boots to get the job done, I have no problem converting, because I am in my element. [/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]"The world keeps looking for holes in my repertoire, for weaknesses in my approach, and point to the flash, in hopes that it means I have no substance, and that's where you all fail. I am not some spoon fed rich guy that bought his way into fortune, fame, and championships ... I am a fighter, that won fortune, fame, and championships through fighting. And, the EPW can build your little group up as threats, and you can create your clever little catch phrases, and t-shirts, but ultimately, the story ends the same way every story ends ... I win and you lose. And, what's worse? I now have a group of peers that believe the same philosophy that I subscribe to: I came, I saw, I conquered."[/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]FTB[/FONT]
Last edited:
ShawnHartXXX
The Phenom
SJH Speaks
FADE IN:
Le Château Du Hart in Orlando, Florida - 3 AM
In the theater of his (somewhat) palatial estate, NEW Champion, Legacy Champion, and recently crowned Empire Pro Intercontinental Champion SHAWN JESSICA HART is guffawing with delight at a late night Golden Girls marathon.
SJH: "Ha ha ha!! That's so f(FCC)cking funny!"
Rue McClanahan makes her entrance in a scene and SJH can't help but shake his head.
SJH: "God DAMN if you aren't the sweetest piece I've seen all week, Blanchey-pooh. Why if I could get my hands and whatever else on that thang..."
As the camera moves in for a close-up of Hart's nearly-drooling mug, the Phenom takes notice and feigns surprise.
SJH: "Oh! A-ha... Didn't see you there!"
Chuckle.
SJH: "I know, I know... I'm headed for a BIG MAIN EVENT MATCH-UP with the Antho-jerks in all their glory, but sometimes... you've just got to kick back and watch the Golden Girls with a couple'a friends."
The camera zooms out, revealing SJH's title belts in the seats surrounding him, each with its own bucket of popcorn.
SJH: "Sure, when I hit that ring... I'll be hotter than the SCORCHING case of herpes given by me to an Alaina Troy... one magical night in my suite at the Motel 6 in 1999, but in this business... we all have to find some way to soothe the beast once the bout is in the books. Heh, one could probably make a case study of all the crazy ways we 'rasslin boys do it.
Take Larry Tact, for example..."
Grin.
SJH: "Larry's methods are a smidge more extreme than mine, but it seems to be working for him. While I sit here, enjoying the comforts of friendship-"
He gives loving winks to his title belts.
SJH: "..Larry, he likes to cut and run... and totally VANISH! He'll toil in the mid and undercards for a period of months, but when he needs to find his center, recollect his chi, what have you - POOF! He's on vacation... for like 5 years. And who's to argue with his methods? I mean, here he is, BACK in the saddle, with his tag strap, his running yap, and the Anthology watermark all up his ass! Well, 'cept the whole tag thing went awry, but I digress.. When his time is up, and everything disappears, so will he... until the next time some idiot JACKHOLE digs him up and convinces him he can hang with the BEST!"
Thumbs extended, Hart gives himself the double-point.
SJH: "Mr. Sean Stevens, CHAMP..... heh.... might I suggest you consider the example of your esteemed partner and take a nice, long break yourself?! I mean, for the past couple years, you've practically been Mr. Empire Pro Wrestling, the shining standard upon which the rest of us base all that we do, living and breathing for just one thing - the EPW title. Your beast is one that never eases, never ceases, and URINATES over the whole of the company in marking your sacred territory...
In other words, you're PISSING it all away!"
Hart snickers, almost violently.
SJH: "You've been the man for so long here that your act has grown stale and tired. That devil inside that all of us tap to bring the HEAT when we're in the squared circle has been burning at both ends like a big, flaming candle of douchebaggery for so long that fans are just....well.... bored with it. Given those circumstances, as well as the fact that you've obviously have turned your back on 'em, the fine people that follow this glorious sport need a new HERO!
Thankfully, HOPE prevails... and before long, EPW will find a new bastion of all that ROCKS to carry the World Title. It could be Anarky. It could be the First. Layne Winters anyone?"
He nods his head in approval.
SJH: "In the mean time, I can't help but reflect on something I heard when I first broke into the business-
It ain't the title that makes the man, it's the MAN who makes the TITLE!
And even though this IC strap o' mine is usually thought of as number 2, given your complete and utter failures, I'm HAPPY to carry the banner for this place until a BETTER champion is crowned."
Hart winks into the camera.
SJH: "No hard feelings though, K?!
The PHENOM has left the building!"
FADE OUT.
FADE IN:
Le Château Du Hart in Orlando, Florida - 3 AM
In the theater of his (somewhat) palatial estate, NEW Champion, Legacy Champion, and recently crowned Empire Pro Intercontinental Champion SHAWN JESSICA HART is guffawing with delight at a late night Golden Girls marathon.
SJH: "Ha ha ha!! That's so f(FCC)cking funny!"
Rue McClanahan makes her entrance in a scene and SJH can't help but shake his head.
SJH: "God DAMN if you aren't the sweetest piece I've seen all week, Blanchey-pooh. Why if I could get my hands and whatever else on that thang..."
As the camera moves in for a close-up of Hart's nearly-drooling mug, the Phenom takes notice and feigns surprise.
SJH: "Oh! A-ha... Didn't see you there!"
Chuckle.
SJH: "I know, I know... I'm headed for a BIG MAIN EVENT MATCH-UP with the Antho-jerks in all their glory, but sometimes... you've just got to kick back and watch the Golden Girls with a couple'a friends."
The camera zooms out, revealing SJH's title belts in the seats surrounding him, each with its own bucket of popcorn.
SJH: "Sure, when I hit that ring... I'll be hotter than the SCORCHING case of herpes given by me to an Alaina Troy... one magical night in my suite at the Motel 6 in 1999, but in this business... we all have to find some way to soothe the beast once the bout is in the books. Heh, one could probably make a case study of all the crazy ways we 'rasslin boys do it.
Take Larry Tact, for example..."
Grin.
SJH: "Larry's methods are a smidge more extreme than mine, but it seems to be working for him. While I sit here, enjoying the comforts of friendship-"
He gives loving winks to his title belts.
SJH: "..Larry, he likes to cut and run... and totally VANISH! He'll toil in the mid and undercards for a period of months, but when he needs to find his center, recollect his chi, what have you - POOF! He's on vacation... for like 5 years. And who's to argue with his methods? I mean, here he is, BACK in the saddle, with his tag strap, his running yap, and the Anthology watermark all up his ass! Well, 'cept the whole tag thing went awry, but I digress.. When his time is up, and everything disappears, so will he... until the next time some idiot JACKHOLE digs him up and convinces him he can hang with the BEST!"
Thumbs extended, Hart gives himself the double-point.
SJH: "Mr. Sean Stevens, CHAMP..... heh.... might I suggest you consider the example of your esteemed partner and take a nice, long break yourself?! I mean, for the past couple years, you've practically been Mr. Empire Pro Wrestling, the shining standard upon which the rest of us base all that we do, living and breathing for just one thing - the EPW title. Your beast is one that never eases, never ceases, and URINATES over the whole of the company in marking your sacred territory...
In other words, you're PISSING it all away!"
Hart snickers, almost violently.
SJH: "You've been the man for so long here that your act has grown stale and tired. That devil inside that all of us tap to bring the HEAT when we're in the squared circle has been burning at both ends like a big, flaming candle of douchebaggery for so long that fans are just....well.... bored with it. Given those circumstances, as well as the fact that you've obviously have turned your back on 'em, the fine people that follow this glorious sport need a new HERO!
Thankfully, HOPE prevails... and before long, EPW will find a new bastion of all that ROCKS to carry the World Title. It could be Anarky. It could be the First. Layne Winters anyone?"
He nods his head in approval.
SJH: "In the mean time, I can't help but reflect on something I heard when I first broke into the business-
It ain't the title that makes the man, it's the MAN who makes the TITLE!
And even though this IC strap o' mine is usually thought of as number 2, given your complete and utter failures, I'm HAPPY to carry the banner for this place until a BETTER champion is crowned."
Hart winks into the camera.
SJH: "No hard feelings though, K?!
The PHENOM has left the building!"
FADE OUT.
JLevinson
Diva Tree
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 707
- Points
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- Age
- 43
Re: AGGRESSION 49: MAIN EVENT - Anarky & Shawn Hart (c) vs. Sean Stevens (c) & Larry
(FADEIN to an empty nightclub. The lights are all turned down and the bar is empty. The camera pans to the left and up some stairs. It pushes through a doorway and finds Anarky, sitting in a leather chair, his feet up on a large oak desk. He smokes a cigarette casually.)
ANARKY: “When you’ve been doing this as long as I have, there are fewer and fewer surprises in that ring. You come to know the measure of a man by the way he fights. You understand him. What drives him.
“Most men are entirely ordinary. They seek common things. Glory. Victory. Cheap thrills and cheaper sl*ts. You know, the typical stuff.
“Of course, some men seek something more. I am one of those men. And I know what you’re thinking. You think… well, ‘Nark, I know you think YOU’RE different, but let’s face it – there’s plenty of guys out there who do it for the blood and agony of it all.
“Perhaps.”
(He smiles and takes a long, slow drag of his cigarette. As he exhales, he speaks again with a smile.)
ANARKY: “In my… moments of clarity… (chuckles)… I find that.. there is… something more… beautiful here. Something real.
“It’s not really about the pain and the violence, though these are wonderful things.
“No… I do it for something else, Sean. For men like you. For you, it is the reason I exist.
“For every infallible champion, there is a man who wants it more. For every overconfident huckster is someone with a pair of brass knuckles and the will to use them when the ref’s back is turned.
“It’s not about the pain, Sean.. it’s about that moment… when you look into my eyes.. and you know.. that I’m not just f*cking with you.. that in this moment, intertwined, symbiotic… as one… you will know that you were wrong.
“That you are human. You are weak. And pathetic. Like me. And in that moment of weakness, you will know that you are not infallible. That every great man and empire falls.
“You will age, and you will die, like all of us. Perhaps you will be a moment late this time. Perhaps your timing will be off. Perhaps you’ll have turned your head just a moment too late.
“It doesn’t matter. In the end, it is all inevitable. The wounds of time will find you yet, my friend. And when they do, you’ll know that it’s all temporary… that your place here is just a speck of dust in a desert.
“You were not the first, and you will not be the last.
“And in that moment, Sean… in that beautiful moment… you, too, will know, as Larry Tact, knew… that you are not a God… but a man… and a man can be beaten and broken… a man can fail… a man can make a single mistake… a wrong turn… a poor judgment call.
“I will be there, Sean. To relish that moment. To remind you of your all-too-human nature. To remind the whole world… that Sean Stevens may be the World Champion… he may be the very best…
“But he is just a man. And men can be broken and defeated.
“Every last one, Sean. I promise you this. Whether it’s me, or Shawn Jessica, or Layne, or the First. Or anybody else.
“You and I, Sean.. it’s time to start telling our story. To define one another. Perhaps this time you will escape. Perhaps not.
“In the end, it doesn’t matter. Because time is on my side. And you…
“.. you are just a man. A man that can be destroyed.
“And that, my friend.. is beautiful.”
(FADEOUT.)
(FADEIN to an empty nightclub. The lights are all turned down and the bar is empty. The camera pans to the left and up some stairs. It pushes through a doorway and finds Anarky, sitting in a leather chair, his feet up on a large oak desk. He smokes a cigarette casually.)
ANARKY: “When you’ve been doing this as long as I have, there are fewer and fewer surprises in that ring. You come to know the measure of a man by the way he fights. You understand him. What drives him.
“Most men are entirely ordinary. They seek common things. Glory. Victory. Cheap thrills and cheaper sl*ts. You know, the typical stuff.
“Of course, some men seek something more. I am one of those men. And I know what you’re thinking. You think… well, ‘Nark, I know you think YOU’RE different, but let’s face it – there’s plenty of guys out there who do it for the blood and agony of it all.
“Perhaps.”
(He smiles and takes a long, slow drag of his cigarette. As he exhales, he speaks again with a smile.)
ANARKY: “In my… moments of clarity… (chuckles)… I find that.. there is… something more… beautiful here. Something real.
“It’s not really about the pain and the violence, though these are wonderful things.
“No… I do it for something else, Sean. For men like you. For you, it is the reason I exist.
“For every infallible champion, there is a man who wants it more. For every overconfident huckster is someone with a pair of brass knuckles and the will to use them when the ref’s back is turned.
“It’s not about the pain, Sean.. it’s about that moment… when you look into my eyes.. and you know.. that I’m not just f*cking with you.. that in this moment, intertwined, symbiotic… as one… you will know that you were wrong.
“That you are human. You are weak. And pathetic. Like me. And in that moment of weakness, you will know that you are not infallible. That every great man and empire falls.
“You will age, and you will die, like all of us. Perhaps you will be a moment late this time. Perhaps your timing will be off. Perhaps you’ll have turned your head just a moment too late.
“It doesn’t matter. In the end, it is all inevitable. The wounds of time will find you yet, my friend. And when they do, you’ll know that it’s all temporary… that your place here is just a speck of dust in a desert.
“You were not the first, and you will not be the last.
“And in that moment, Sean… in that beautiful moment… you, too, will know, as Larry Tact, knew… that you are not a God… but a man… and a man can be beaten and broken… a man can fail… a man can make a single mistake… a wrong turn… a poor judgment call.
“I will be there, Sean. To relish that moment. To remind you of your all-too-human nature. To remind the whole world… that Sean Stevens may be the World Champion… he may be the very best…
“But he is just a man. And men can be broken and defeated.
“Every last one, Sean. I promise you this. Whether it’s me, or Shawn Jessica, or Layne, or the First. Or anybody else.
“You and I, Sean.. it’s time to start telling our story. To define one another. Perhaps this time you will escape. Perhaps not.
“In the end, it doesn’t matter. Because time is on my side. And you…
“.. you are just a man. A man that can be destroyed.
“And that, my friend.. is beautiful.”
(FADEOUT.)
Starbreaker
Member
Re: AGGRESSION 49: MAIN EVENT - Anarky & Shawn Hart (c) vs. Sean Stevens (c) & Larry
FADE IN: on a San Diego hotel room. Sitting down on a sofa is Larry Tact, dressed in stonewashed blue Alfani jeans and a buttoned-down gray Kenneth Cole shirt. He has a glass with bluish-hued cocktail in hand, and his eyes glimmer with a hint of disdain as he looks ahead.
LARRY TACT: "It's not exactly how I saw things going, at Aggression... HOPE walking away with a victory, and Anthology having to excommunicate one of their own, in order to forge ahead, stronger than ever... but, we take our lumps, and we DO forge ahead."
"Meaning, for all their talk... HOPE is nothing but its hype. No real effectiveness."
"Sure, you managed to keep your existence intact with a victory. But look at what Anthology gained... 'Triple X'... the World Heavyweight Champion."
"Looking at the comparison, can HOPE really call Aggression a victory for themselves?"
He shrugs, sipping on the cocktail momentarily, and smirks.
"I bet Shawn Hart will, given he's going into this next match with the Intercontinental Championship. Which is to say, Shawn, that its more important to you than any HOPE project. If there really was any truth to what that bunch is professing... then you wouldn't even BE Intercontinental Champion."
"If you were battling against what Anthology has done, then you wouldn't have taken a similar route to what we were accused of, in Cameron's winning that title you're keeping warm for us. But I guess it's okay when you're the ones taking that type of tact to get your way? Heh... I bet."
"I bet you ARE real content to have the strap on your shoulder, and a seemingly new group to do the dirty work for you, Shawn. But the truth of the matter is... you never were cut out to be a team player. You couldn't handle coexisting in Anthology, and it won't work out for you now. Because, quite simply, Shawn... you will be vaulted again. You like to think so highly of yourself, always believing you deserve to be top dog of the pack..."
"Problem there is, the only pack you would be top dog of? A pack of pups. And you're up against a pack of sharks."
He chuckles.
"I bet you'd like to think that I share the same belief as you... that I want to be top dog, the way I talk. And you'd be right that, I do want to be at the top. But I also know the big picture. Anthology feels the same way, knowing that we can't all be top dog at the same time. So we divide and conquer. We coexist by picking our spot, and dominating it... then come together as a unit, and bring respectability back to all we reign over."
"That's not something you could ever grasp, though, Shawn. It's why you aren't apart of Anthology. It will be why you will fall down at our match, and not be getting up until you've been saddled with the defeat you've earned, by attempting to stand against us."
"And whatever anyone says... I doubt your partner will give a damn about saving you."
He nods, sipping the cocktail again.
"Because how does that not go against your style, Anarky? How is it that you could care about a piece of trash like Hart, who was aligned with Anthology at one point? I don't believe that... it would make no sense to even tag with him. Yet here you are, ready to come up with some alternate reason for having a purpose in this match."
"I'll accept this much, 'Nark: you're at least going to make this match interesting. Because I thought our little cage match a few months ago was plenty interesting... and that was to your advantage. Now, in the tag match, the advantage will turn to my side. I have the superior partner, and the ring skills to surpass you. Plus, I understand full well that this could break down... you could turn this into a melee of sorts. But don't think I haven't picked up a few tricks as a tag Champion, either. It isn't as if I'm going to let you turn the tide so easily."
"And if nothing else, Stevens and I will dispose of the weak link in Hart, before you even have the chance. Unless you plan on protecting him? What good will that really do you, anyway? In fact, what good will this match do for you? That's the thing I keep coming back to... Anarky working in this match... towards what?"
"I suppose you get your fix of action for the week, since finding new facepaint and slumming it at the bar make up the rest of your activities. But in all seriousness, where is the purpose in this for you? I don't see it trumping ours."
"For Anthology, this match will be the introduction of our dominance with the World Heavyweight Champion, Sean Stevens. This will be our retort to all those who claim we are weaker, somehow, than we had previously been. The truth couldn't be further off on the spectrum. We are stronger, better, and more poised to further our mission than we were before."
"The malcontents of HOPE will not drive us down. You've just made yourselves the prey to be given as an example to the rest of EPW. You will further drive our mission towards completion."
"The more you struggle against us, the better example you'll make...."
"When your humbling is complete."
He mock toasts to the camera and downs the rest of his cocktail.
FADE OUT.
FADE IN: on a San Diego hotel room. Sitting down on a sofa is Larry Tact, dressed in stonewashed blue Alfani jeans and a buttoned-down gray Kenneth Cole shirt. He has a glass with bluish-hued cocktail in hand, and his eyes glimmer with a hint of disdain as he looks ahead.
LARRY TACT: "It's not exactly how I saw things going, at Aggression... HOPE walking away with a victory, and Anthology having to excommunicate one of their own, in order to forge ahead, stronger than ever... but, we take our lumps, and we DO forge ahead."
"Meaning, for all their talk... HOPE is nothing but its hype. No real effectiveness."
"Sure, you managed to keep your existence intact with a victory. But look at what Anthology gained... 'Triple X'... the World Heavyweight Champion."
"Looking at the comparison, can HOPE really call Aggression a victory for themselves?"
He shrugs, sipping on the cocktail momentarily, and smirks.
"I bet Shawn Hart will, given he's going into this next match with the Intercontinental Championship. Which is to say, Shawn, that its more important to you than any HOPE project. If there really was any truth to what that bunch is professing... then you wouldn't even BE Intercontinental Champion."
"If you were battling against what Anthology has done, then you wouldn't have taken a similar route to what we were accused of, in Cameron's winning that title you're keeping warm for us. But I guess it's okay when you're the ones taking that type of tact to get your way? Heh... I bet."
"I bet you ARE real content to have the strap on your shoulder, and a seemingly new group to do the dirty work for you, Shawn. But the truth of the matter is... you never were cut out to be a team player. You couldn't handle coexisting in Anthology, and it won't work out for you now. Because, quite simply, Shawn... you will be vaulted again. You like to think so highly of yourself, always believing you deserve to be top dog of the pack..."
"Problem there is, the only pack you would be top dog of? A pack of pups. And you're up against a pack of sharks."
He chuckles.
"I bet you'd like to think that I share the same belief as you... that I want to be top dog, the way I talk. And you'd be right that, I do want to be at the top. But I also know the big picture. Anthology feels the same way, knowing that we can't all be top dog at the same time. So we divide and conquer. We coexist by picking our spot, and dominating it... then come together as a unit, and bring respectability back to all we reign over."
"That's not something you could ever grasp, though, Shawn. It's why you aren't apart of Anthology. It will be why you will fall down at our match, and not be getting up until you've been saddled with the defeat you've earned, by attempting to stand against us."
"And whatever anyone says... I doubt your partner will give a damn about saving you."
He nods, sipping the cocktail again.
"Because how does that not go against your style, Anarky? How is it that you could care about a piece of trash like Hart, who was aligned with Anthology at one point? I don't believe that... it would make no sense to even tag with him. Yet here you are, ready to come up with some alternate reason for having a purpose in this match."
"I'll accept this much, 'Nark: you're at least going to make this match interesting. Because I thought our little cage match a few months ago was plenty interesting... and that was to your advantage. Now, in the tag match, the advantage will turn to my side. I have the superior partner, and the ring skills to surpass you. Plus, I understand full well that this could break down... you could turn this into a melee of sorts. But don't think I haven't picked up a few tricks as a tag Champion, either. It isn't as if I'm going to let you turn the tide so easily."
"And if nothing else, Stevens and I will dispose of the weak link in Hart, before you even have the chance. Unless you plan on protecting him? What good will that really do you, anyway? In fact, what good will this match do for you? That's the thing I keep coming back to... Anarky working in this match... towards what?"
"I suppose you get your fix of action for the week, since finding new facepaint and slumming it at the bar make up the rest of your activities. But in all seriousness, where is the purpose in this for you? I don't see it trumping ours."
"For Anthology, this match will be the introduction of our dominance with the World Heavyweight Champion, Sean Stevens. This will be our retort to all those who claim we are weaker, somehow, than we had previously been. The truth couldn't be further off on the spectrum. We are stronger, better, and more poised to further our mission than we were before."
"The malcontents of HOPE will not drive us down. You've just made yourselves the prey to be given as an example to the rest of EPW. You will further drive our mission towards completion."
"The more you struggle against us, the better example you'll make...."
"When your humbling is complete."
He mock toasts to the camera and downs the rest of his cocktail.
FADE OUT.
ShawnHartXXX
The Phenom
SJH Uber Retort
FADE IN: SJH, PhD is standing by in a red pleather jumpsuit, with his golden hair twisted and turned into corn rows and all three of his title belts strapped around his body. As the camera pans in for a close-up, his half-stepsister (twice removed) FELICIA walks onto the scene.
FELICIA: "Lookin' good, Champ."
Hart gives his sister the double take.
SJH: "Good???"
He lowers his designer shades.
SJH: "GOOD?! Dearest sister, GOOD is a Double-Double at In-N-Out Burger, or a chick that goes deep throat and smells un-fishy, but maybe doesn't follow through on the ass play or something. Me? I strive for GREATNESS!!"
FELICIA: "Rrrright."
SJH: "I want the fries, the shake, and the hardcore anal too! So when you step to me and say I'm lookin' GOOD, I quite nearly vomit with rage!"
FELICIA: "Noooooo!"
SJH: "YES! Hell, if I didn't know better, I'd say you had abandoned Team Edward in favor of our resident creepy, pale-faced, seemingly immortal sucker of human essence, one Laurie Tact!"
FELICIA: "I would NEVER!! And while we're on the subject, quit cramming my mailbox with Taylor Lautner headshots!!"
SJH: "But he's so DREAMY!"
Felicia rolls her eyes.
FELICIA: "You were saying?"
SJH removes the drool from his chin.
SJH: "RIGHT - Harry Crack and all his hubbub about my apparent shortcomings... the whole thing is completely ridiculous!"
FELICIA: "Downright redonkulous!"
SJH: "Hear hear! I mean, here he is flappin' his yap and shootin' his trap about how I'M not a team player... how I just saunter a bout looking for the next band of merry misfits to boss around... how HE and his PACK OF SHARKS are gonna rend me and all my homeboys asunder!"
FELICIA: "PSHAW, I say!"
SJH: "You bet that beautiful backside! For one thing, sharks don't even travel in packs, they travel in gams, pods, or sometimes schools, so the only PACK I'm gonna be concerning MYSELF with is Laurie's neverending pack of freshly dumped BULLSH(FCC)T!!
FELICIA: "That's right, big bro! Assassinate his ass, semantically!"
SJH: "Word to our mother!"
Both Harts turn their attention to a portait of a balding, obese woman in a purple muumuu that hangs on the wall behind them.
FELICIA: "God rest her soul..."
Suddenly, the aformentioned balding, obese woman in the purple muumuu walks onto the shot.
MA HART: "I'm not DEAD, you little bastards!"
SJH quickly grabs the camera by the lens and pulls it near his face.
SJH: "Mark my words TACT, when we hit that ring this week on Aggression, you and Mr. XXX are goin' down like a couple'a Guatemalan hookers! You can sit there and spit yer SH(FCC)T about how we're so dysfunctional, how we're not a TEAM, but the steak n' eggs of the situation is that the only problems you've diagnosed are your own!
Be it that boozer Cruise-r or even Stevens, the reality is that without that requisite loudmouth JACKHOLE carrying your sorry Antho-asses, the whole lot of you would be nothing more than the Washed-Up Jobber Squad. Call it an outrage, call it a MOCKERY, I call it the TRUTH! And the truth of the matter is that once the two of you have been dispatched, and after sweet Sean is dethroned by the First, he'll leave your ass high and dry... and the rest of you will fade back into obscurity where you belong!
So the next time you or any of your little buddies have the itch to speak on me, my main main Anarky, or anyone else for that matter, check yourself and remember these three things..."
SJH counts it down with his fingers.
SJH: "Nobody gives a GOOD GOD DAMN what you have to say...
Unlike you, our best talking is done in the RING...
And NOTHING you do or say is gonna kill the Empire's HOPE!"
FELICIA: "Somebody jus' got F'd UP!!"
SJH: "Sho you right, sis! The PHENOM has left the building!"
FADE OUT.
FADE IN: SJH, PhD is standing by in a red pleather jumpsuit, with his golden hair twisted and turned into corn rows and all three of his title belts strapped around his body. As the camera pans in for a close-up, his half-stepsister (twice removed) FELICIA walks onto the scene.
FELICIA: "Lookin' good, Champ."
Hart gives his sister the double take.
SJH: "Good???"
He lowers his designer shades.
SJH: "GOOD?! Dearest sister, GOOD is a Double-Double at In-N-Out Burger, or a chick that goes deep throat and smells un-fishy, but maybe doesn't follow through on the ass play or something. Me? I strive for GREATNESS!!"
FELICIA: "Rrrright."
SJH: "I want the fries, the shake, and the hardcore anal too! So when you step to me and say I'm lookin' GOOD, I quite nearly vomit with rage!"
FELICIA: "Noooooo!"
SJH: "YES! Hell, if I didn't know better, I'd say you had abandoned Team Edward in favor of our resident creepy, pale-faced, seemingly immortal sucker of human essence, one Laurie Tact!"
FELICIA: "I would NEVER!! And while we're on the subject, quit cramming my mailbox with Taylor Lautner headshots!!"
SJH: "But he's so DREAMY!"
Felicia rolls her eyes.
FELICIA: "You were saying?"
SJH removes the drool from his chin.
SJH: "RIGHT - Harry Crack and all his hubbub about my apparent shortcomings... the whole thing is completely ridiculous!"
FELICIA: "Downright redonkulous!"
SJH: "Hear hear! I mean, here he is flappin' his yap and shootin' his trap about how I'M not a team player... how I just saunter a bout looking for the next band of merry misfits to boss around... how HE and his PACK OF SHARKS are gonna rend me and all my homeboys asunder!"
FELICIA: "PSHAW, I say!"
SJH: "You bet that beautiful backside! For one thing, sharks don't even travel in packs, they travel in gams, pods, or sometimes schools, so the only PACK I'm gonna be concerning MYSELF with is Laurie's neverending pack of freshly dumped BULLSH(FCC)T!!
FELICIA: "That's right, big bro! Assassinate his ass, semantically!"
SJH: "Word to our mother!"
Both Harts turn their attention to a portait of a balding, obese woman in a purple muumuu that hangs on the wall behind them.
FELICIA: "God rest her soul..."
Suddenly, the aformentioned balding, obese woman in the purple muumuu walks onto the shot.
MA HART: "I'm not DEAD, you little bastards!"
SJH quickly grabs the camera by the lens and pulls it near his face.
SJH: "Mark my words TACT, when we hit that ring this week on Aggression, you and Mr. XXX are goin' down like a couple'a Guatemalan hookers! You can sit there and spit yer SH(FCC)T about how we're so dysfunctional, how we're not a TEAM, but the steak n' eggs of the situation is that the only problems you've diagnosed are your own!
Be it that boozer Cruise-r or even Stevens, the reality is that without that requisite loudmouth JACKHOLE carrying your sorry Antho-asses, the whole lot of you would be nothing more than the Washed-Up Jobber Squad. Call it an outrage, call it a MOCKERY, I call it the TRUTH! And the truth of the matter is that once the two of you have been dispatched, and after sweet Sean is dethroned by the First, he'll leave your ass high and dry... and the rest of you will fade back into obscurity where you belong!
So the next time you or any of your little buddies have the itch to speak on me, my main main Anarky, or anyone else for that matter, check yourself and remember these three things..."
SJH counts it down with his fingers.
SJH: "Nobody gives a GOOD GOD DAMN what you have to say...
Unlike you, our best talking is done in the RING...
And NOTHING you do or say is gonna kill the Empire's HOPE!"
FELICIA: "Somebody jus' got F'd UP!!"
SJH: "Sho you right, sis! The PHENOM has left the building!"
FADE OUT.