Blah, blah, blah...yackity schmackity.

[TSiegel]

[updated:LAST EDITED ON Jul-24-02 AT 02:21 PM (EDT)](Fade in on Cruise relaxing in a lounge chair in his Sweetwater, Texas hotel room. Cruise straightens out his shirt a bit and gives a little wave to the camera in greeting before running his hair back outta his face.)

CC: Hey there. Miss me? I betcha did. I mean, lately its been at least Powers'goal to throw my name in every promo lately, even though to him, my name doesn't mean crap. Guess that kinda means I should stop pokin' fun at Radder sounding like a fairy, because somethings sounding abit obsessive there, Kev.

I'll give you one thing though Double G, with the amount of talk about alcohol you do in your promos, at least it gives Merritt an idea of who to stick with Sammy Benson in his golden years.

Ayatollah of Rum and Cola, Party man USA. Whoop-de-doo Kev. I mean, ya do what ya gotta do, but damnit man.....

(smirks)

JUST KNOCK IT OFF WILL YA??!!!

What really surprises me in all this crap is where's Eddy? Where's the man that already has a secretary in Benson if JJ Deville rolls over and spends a week in the hospital? Not one word have I heard outta the guy who claims that ' it's all about Eddy'. Could it be that the one-man promo-band has caught strep throat?

And just so I don't leave anyone out....Old man River...GUNS....leave me be. I'm saying this once. Don't make me say it again.

Now, seeing as these over-the-hill-and-never-win-the-big-one punks keep talking about me and my match, let's talk about my match.

Triple Threat.

Me.
Stanley.
and Adler.

Presidential title.

First of all, pal, Stanley, if you don't wanna take part of this match, hell, just don't show and let Merritt know. I'm sure he'll be able to let Scott Seeley have some time instead. I'll bet he's more than willing to take some TV time.

Adler. You wanna cut to the chase. Fine. Yeah, you pinned me. Whoop-de-do. Fine, ya happy now? You wanna talk about Promises? Go see Plett. Yeah, I made one, and was intent on keeping it, but Merritt decided otherwise.

(shrugs)

To be frank, I really don't care about what you think about my little post-match gift you took in Oklahoma. Just like Shane, I'm only there for one thing now.

Victory, and if it should come to be...then by all means, you're gonna taste some factory manufactured Steel.

Chew on that one.

Fadeout

 

[TWhitefield]

At least we agree on one thing...

Ya know, Cruise, I'll give you the nod on one thing, at least you bother to show up.

I'm not gonna waste a lot of time talking about somebody who doesn't even care to discuss the match.

Now, as for you, I'm glad you've finally decided that your holier than thou bull that nobody but you was listening to anyway.

But, before you sit there and start making threats about what you are or aren't willing to do to win this match, just remember this. I didn't ask for this match with these rules. But, I don't have a problem playing by 'em.

I don't have any problems playing by yours, either.

=Adler

 

[TSiegel]

One thing indeed.

You're right, Tom. You're right. Because apparantly it's been Merritt's stupidity at his best, trying only for his publicity, revenue, and promotional skills to show....instead of his BRAINS, and I say this because while we have indeed discussed this match abit, we've yet to even see Stanley show his face at all in this contest.

You, however, still don't quite get me, and at this rate, I'm not sure you will.

I don't make threats----that's Powers' game.

I don't make promises---that's Mike Plett's life story....and he's quite full of them.

I make statements, Tom. Just ask Plett about the amount of hangtime he got as he was being thrown off the stage.

Since when do you give a damn about rules Tom? You can't play by rules given for a one-on-one match, what makes you think you can take defend that belt in a match with an added opponent, and rules not including pin or submission?

Understand this Tom: I don't hate you. I respect your SKILLS, maybe not you, but your skills are great.

I just don't like you.

--Cruise

 

[TWhitefield]

Pardon me while I weep

I don't get ya, Cam? Funny, I thought the record showed that I already did. But, I digress.

Now, threats, promises, statements, fortune cookies, and psychic predictions aside, what makes me think I can retain this (pointing to the Presidential championship belt)?? Well, I suppose I could come up with something clever like telling everybody I've been chosen by the righteous police to be their new leader. But, I won't. I could also point out that you've pretty much proven time and time again that you've got problems concentrating on more than one thing at a time. But, I won't do that either.

No, it's far simpler than that. Whether you wanna admit it or not, Cam, I played by the same rules you did in that match. The difference, my friend, is that not only can I play by 'em, I can exploit 'em better than any man alive.

And, before you go turning Billy Graham out here, put your hypocrisy aside and amit that there isn't a person in this business who doesn't bend the rules to their favor.

Every time you grab somebody's tights to get a little extra leverage on a suplex, you've bent the rules. Every time you take a couple of extra shots on somebody in the corner because you know the ref will let you get away with it until the count of five... you've bent the rules. And every time you take a couple of extra seconds out on the floor because you know you can, you've been the rules.

Why do you do it? Because those are the little extra steps that make the difference between being a champion want wanting to be.

Did I hook your tights? Yup. Did I grab the ropes? Yup. But the clue here that you seem to keep missing is that I didn't do 'em thinking the ref was so dumb that he couldn't see 'it. Nor did I do it thinking it was gonna get me an easy win.

No, Cam, I did it because right up until the moment that the ref counted three, you and he both were believing that it was the only thing I could do to win. I started playing you before we ever stepped into the ring. I played you during it, and realize it or not, I'm still playing you.

And, the amusing part of this whole thing is that if I weren't telling you this now, you'd STILL be thinking it come Fund time. Maybe you still will, who knoes.

And, finally, let me say this. You don't like me? So what. Cameron, let's you and come to an understanding. You and I aren't friends. We're not partners. We're not roommates. We're not Allies. We BARELY co-exist in this federation. If any of that changes, let me know. I'll be sure to re-evaluate my concern for your opinion of me. Until then, sorry, it's not my goal in life to be liked by you or much of anybody else.

You respect my skills? Good. You should. But, either way, my obsession with that albatros ended years ago.

No, Cam, I care about one thing. Being the best at what I do. And, I don't get there by losing matches... to you, or anybody else.