Christian Sands vs. Rob Sampson
- Thread starter DBrunkGXW
- Start date
JABolich
League Member
Robbie!
(FADEIN: The rather expansive study of CHRISTIAN SANDS, completed with its vast shelves full of books and wrestling tapes. SANDS himself sits at his desk, his hands folded in front of him.)
Sands: If I said I was a happy man right now, I'd be lying. I may have lost at Revolution, but the only man who can rightfully take credit for defeating me is John Miller - as opposed to my toking friend who did nothing, yet stole the pin. This makes twice in a row that I've been screwed over by said toking friend, and frankly, it's made me rather... annoyed.
This does not bode well for those individuals registered in the tournament leading into Battleground Britain.
Some men take their anger and fly into a rage, screaming and cursing and breaking things. Others bottle it up inside and ultimately go mad because of it. I've adapted a third option - rather that releasing it unchecked or keeping it penned up, I channel it. Anger is quite a potent fuel, really - especially in wrestling matches, where focused fury serves only to make me all the more deadly. And at the moment I have quite a bit of fury to focus.
I returned to Global X-treme Wrestling to make an impact.
It's high time I started in earnest.
Beginning with an old ally.
Hello, Rob. It's been awhile.
Stepping into a ring with you brings back memories, Rob. I clearly recall our days as allies in Superior Championship Wrestling, when we were all out to run that place into the ground. I have fond memories of the few times you and I tagged together. At the risk of sounding sycophantic, I learned a lot and gained a lot from associating with you and the others - and in the process picked up a certain respect for you as a competitor.
Then you went soft, and that respect vanished.
What happened, Rob? The Rob Sampson I remember was a man with killer instinct - a man who could dish it out AND take it. A man with the attitude to back up his abilities. Yet look at yourself now. You've lost that edge that you had back in the day - that intangible quality that made you that much more dangerous. You've become weak - playing to the fans, whoring yourself out to their affections... where's the spirit of mayhem that characterized you back in the day? What happened to the Rob Sampson who eagerly threw in his chips with us when we went to crush SCW - the Rob Sampson who lead the reborn Extreme Tendencies into battle?
Dammit, Rob, you used to be a badass. Now you're just a horse's ass.
But you know what they say, hm? Some things change, but others just stay the same...
Take me for instance. Since our run in SCW, I've bettered myself constantly - and you know it. Yet through all of that, my attitudes toward the business remain the same. My path to success has always relied on pissing on people who get in my way. People like everyone in SCW, for instance. If you're in my way, I'll move you - and if you won't move, I'll come back at you and push harder.
You're going to get pushed.
I may have been screwed over at Revolution, but that unpleasantness has served only to throw more fuel on my fire. I'm more determined than ever now to blow through the competition and prove that I am capable of hanging with GXW's best.
You're recognized as one of the best. Which, of course, makes defeating you imperative for me.
I will not fail. Not for any reason.
As for the rest of those in this tournament... well... I'll cross that bridge when I get there. For now, Rob... your forecast calls for severe Sandstorms in the very, very near future. I suggest you step carefully, lest you find yourself buried.
Ta-ta for now...
(FADEOUT)
(FADEIN: The rather expansive study of CHRISTIAN SANDS, completed with its vast shelves full of books and wrestling tapes. SANDS himself sits at his desk, his hands folded in front of him.)
Sands: If I said I was a happy man right now, I'd be lying. I may have lost at Revolution, but the only man who can rightfully take credit for defeating me is John Miller - as opposed to my toking friend who did nothing, yet stole the pin. This makes twice in a row that I've been screwed over by said toking friend, and frankly, it's made me rather... annoyed.
This does not bode well for those individuals registered in the tournament leading into Battleground Britain.
Some men take their anger and fly into a rage, screaming and cursing and breaking things. Others bottle it up inside and ultimately go mad because of it. I've adapted a third option - rather that releasing it unchecked or keeping it penned up, I channel it. Anger is quite a potent fuel, really - especially in wrestling matches, where focused fury serves only to make me all the more deadly. And at the moment I have quite a bit of fury to focus.
I returned to Global X-treme Wrestling to make an impact.
It's high time I started in earnest.
Beginning with an old ally.
Hello, Rob. It's been awhile.
Stepping into a ring with you brings back memories, Rob. I clearly recall our days as allies in Superior Championship Wrestling, when we were all out to run that place into the ground. I have fond memories of the few times you and I tagged together. At the risk of sounding sycophantic, I learned a lot and gained a lot from associating with you and the others - and in the process picked up a certain respect for you as a competitor.
Then you went soft, and that respect vanished.
What happened, Rob? The Rob Sampson I remember was a man with killer instinct - a man who could dish it out AND take it. A man with the attitude to back up his abilities. Yet look at yourself now. You've lost that edge that you had back in the day - that intangible quality that made you that much more dangerous. You've become weak - playing to the fans, whoring yourself out to their affections... where's the spirit of mayhem that characterized you back in the day? What happened to the Rob Sampson who eagerly threw in his chips with us when we went to crush SCW - the Rob Sampson who lead the reborn Extreme Tendencies into battle?
Dammit, Rob, you used to be a badass. Now you're just a horse's ass.
But you know what they say, hm? Some things change, but others just stay the same...
Take me for instance. Since our run in SCW, I've bettered myself constantly - and you know it. Yet through all of that, my attitudes toward the business remain the same. My path to success has always relied on pissing on people who get in my way. People like everyone in SCW, for instance. If you're in my way, I'll move you - and if you won't move, I'll come back at you and push harder.
You're going to get pushed.
I may have been screwed over at Revolution, but that unpleasantness has served only to throw more fuel on my fire. I'm more determined than ever now to blow through the competition and prove that I am capable of hanging with GXW's best.
You're recognized as one of the best. Which, of course, makes defeating you imperative for me.
I will not fail. Not for any reason.
As for the rest of those in this tournament... well... I'll cross that bridge when I get there. For now, Rob... your forecast calls for severe Sandstorms in the very, very near future. I suggest you step carefully, lest you find yourself buried.
Ta-ta for now...
(FADEOUT)
Mr Main Event
League Member
Be Careful What You Wish For
Let us be thankful for fools. But for them the rest of us could not succeed.
- Mark Twain
---------------
(Fade in on the confines of Rob Sampson’s “War Room.” The room sports a different look this time of year, with various decorations and a gorgeous Christmas tree giving it a holiday flair. Sampson sits behind a large marble desk, leaning back in his leather chair with his feet propped up on the desk as he peruses the latest issue of the Cincinnati Enquirer.
RS: Gotta love Calvin and Hobbes…
(Sampson chuckles and after a few moments he folds the newspaper up and looks into the camera as he begins to speak.)
RS: I can respect when someone decides that it’s time they make their mark in this business. After all, even I came to that point in my career. Where I begin to have a problem is when someone decides to do so at my expense.
Hello, Christian.
It has indeed been a while.
(Sampson takes his feet off of the desk and sits up in his chair.)
RS: You know, Christian, I always saw potential in you. I said as much many times. You claim to have learned a lot from me, but you seem to have forgotten the most important thing I tried to impart to you: patience. You have to wait for the right time to strike. Now is not your time. You’re closer than you once were, but you aren’t quite where you think you are yet.
Case in point: you thinking I’ve gone soft. Why don’t you ask Eric Davis just how soft I am? Eric ran around for months, falsely proclaiming himself to be the new “Mr. Main Event.” I bided my time, giving him just enough rope to hang himself. When the time was right, I tightened the noose and let him drop. The end result: Rob Sampson—the real “Mr. Main Event”—has returned to GXW.
Had you said I’d gone soft a few months ago, I might have agreed with you. I let that punk Eric Davis get me into a position where he was able to put me out of wrestling for months. I watched him tramp around GXW saying that he had put me out of the business for good. Hell, I even started to believe him for a bit. But at some point, Davis re-awakened something inside me. That something was my killer instinct.
Any claims that I have lost what it was that made me the best are unfounded now. When I made my return at Global Warfare, I showed the world that not only was I back, but I hadn’t lost a single step in my time away. If you want me to develop an edge, Christian, I’m afraid you’re too late. As GXW heads into 2004, I’m at the top of my game and it dawns on me that during my time here, I’ve yet to achieve the one thing that everyone seems to think I need to do around here: I have yet to win the GXW Unified World Championship.
At the last Revolution, you wrestled both Boogie Smallz and John Miller in a three-way match for the Continental and World titles. I’m no stranger to the Continental title. I’ve held it many times and am proud to have done so. Unlike you though, I’ve beaten both Boogie and Miller at one point or another in my career. Boogie may have been the man who took my Continental title away, but I think you’ll agree that Boogie can be quite formidable when he wants to be. After all, he’s beaten you, what, three times now? I hate to rub salt in your wounds, my friend, but it’s no more than you’ll try to do to me.
(Sampson smiles deviously.)
RS: But now, here we are: both of us yearning to finally win that World title. I’m no stranger to being a World champion, but the GXW title has eluded me thus far. So who wants it more, you or I? I know that you’re hungry to prove yourself, but between the two of us, who’s more likely to win? Look inside yourself and answer truthfully and the name escaping your lips will be mine.
I don’t need to beat you in order to prove anything, but you do need to beat me. You said so yourself. However, I do want to beat you because quite honestly I’m tired of biding my time. Now is my time to start wrestling for the World title. Now is the time when “Mr. Main Event” shows everyone just exactly how he earned that name.
You want edgy? You want fame? You want all the things that a match with Rob Sampson can bring you? Fine. You’ll get them, all save one. You will not win. But a loss does not necessarily constitute failure, and that is yet another lesson the teacher is about to show his pupil.
(Fade out.)
Let us be thankful for fools. But for them the rest of us could not succeed.
- Mark Twain
---------------
(Fade in on the confines of Rob Sampson’s “War Room.” The room sports a different look this time of year, with various decorations and a gorgeous Christmas tree giving it a holiday flair. Sampson sits behind a large marble desk, leaning back in his leather chair with his feet propped up on the desk as he peruses the latest issue of the Cincinnati Enquirer.
RS: Gotta love Calvin and Hobbes…
(Sampson chuckles and after a few moments he folds the newspaper up and looks into the camera as he begins to speak.)
RS: I can respect when someone decides that it’s time they make their mark in this business. After all, even I came to that point in my career. Where I begin to have a problem is when someone decides to do so at my expense.
Hello, Christian.
It has indeed been a while.
(Sampson takes his feet off of the desk and sits up in his chair.)
RS: You know, Christian, I always saw potential in you. I said as much many times. You claim to have learned a lot from me, but you seem to have forgotten the most important thing I tried to impart to you: patience. You have to wait for the right time to strike. Now is not your time. You’re closer than you once were, but you aren’t quite where you think you are yet.
Case in point: you thinking I’ve gone soft. Why don’t you ask Eric Davis just how soft I am? Eric ran around for months, falsely proclaiming himself to be the new “Mr. Main Event.” I bided my time, giving him just enough rope to hang himself. When the time was right, I tightened the noose and let him drop. The end result: Rob Sampson—the real “Mr. Main Event”—has returned to GXW.
Had you said I’d gone soft a few months ago, I might have agreed with you. I let that punk Eric Davis get me into a position where he was able to put me out of wrestling for months. I watched him tramp around GXW saying that he had put me out of the business for good. Hell, I even started to believe him for a bit. But at some point, Davis re-awakened something inside me. That something was my killer instinct.
Any claims that I have lost what it was that made me the best are unfounded now. When I made my return at Global Warfare, I showed the world that not only was I back, but I hadn’t lost a single step in my time away. If you want me to develop an edge, Christian, I’m afraid you’re too late. As GXW heads into 2004, I’m at the top of my game and it dawns on me that during my time here, I’ve yet to achieve the one thing that everyone seems to think I need to do around here: I have yet to win the GXW Unified World Championship.
At the last Revolution, you wrestled both Boogie Smallz and John Miller in a three-way match for the Continental and World titles. I’m no stranger to the Continental title. I’ve held it many times and am proud to have done so. Unlike you though, I’ve beaten both Boogie and Miller at one point or another in my career. Boogie may have been the man who took my Continental title away, but I think you’ll agree that Boogie can be quite formidable when he wants to be. After all, he’s beaten you, what, three times now? I hate to rub salt in your wounds, my friend, but it’s no more than you’ll try to do to me.
(Sampson smiles deviously.)
RS: But now, here we are: both of us yearning to finally win that World title. I’m no stranger to being a World champion, but the GXW title has eluded me thus far. So who wants it more, you or I? I know that you’re hungry to prove yourself, but between the two of us, who’s more likely to win? Look inside yourself and answer truthfully and the name escaping your lips will be mine.
I don’t need to beat you in order to prove anything, but you do need to beat me. You said so yourself. However, I do want to beat you because quite honestly I’m tired of biding my time. Now is my time to start wrestling for the World title. Now is the time when “Mr. Main Event” shows everyone just exactly how he earned that name.
You want edgy? You want fame? You want all the things that a match with Rob Sampson can bring you? Fine. You’ll get them, all save one. You will not win. But a loss does not necessarily constitute failure, and that is yet another lesson the teacher is about to show his pupil.
(Fade out.)
JABolich
League Member
I Hate That Phrase
(FADEIN: A balcony somewhere in the Sands Estate, overlooking a huge in-ground pool ringed by various trees. CHRISTIAN SANDS sits in a tall-backed armchair, one leg crossed over the other.)
(The spark blazing in his eyes, however, belies his casual posture.)
Sands: After watching that tape of yours, Rob, I was struck by something. A little phrase you brought up.
"Now is not your time..."
If I had a nickel for everytime someone has said that, I'd be rich... well, richer than I've recently become thanks to certain investments. It seems every time I go up against a different opponent, I hear it. "Christian, now is not you're time." "Christian, you're not ready." "Christian, it's not time for you yet." Constantly being thrown in my face.
I'm sick and f*cking tired of hearing that phrase.
Tell me, Rob. Is there some mystical calendar in the sky with dates marked off on it denoting when people achieve their goals? Is success in the wrestling world laid out on a schedule or a timetable? Because if it is, someone forgot to send me the memo. Since you seem intimately familiar with the calendar, though, maybe you could do me a favor. Give those pricks over at scheduling a call and tell them to add something. Have 'em add "Battleground Countdown Tour, December 2003 - Sampson, Rob Gets Fed Own Words By Sands, Christian." Thanks kindly... pally.
I'll let you in on a little secret I've learned, Rob... something that a lot of you grizzled veterans seem to have missed.
A man's time is when he makes it.
I tried being patient, Sampson. Throughout the entire SCW versus G.O.D debacle I sat back and let you, Dan, Kev and Gabe run the f*cking show. But just as I finally started to break free... just as I finally started to make a name for myself and establish myself as an individual rather than a hanger-on... Ed Brown took his ball, went home, and shut SCW down.
But that was the first step.
I've continued to bide my time since then... but only now am I realizing that it's all about taking the initiative. And I have taken it. Turn on your TV and watch some NFW on ESEN. Take note of the fact that I'm undefeated and scoring wins over some of this circuit's best and brightest. As for your obvious raising of the issue of my toking friend, Biggie Smalls, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to realize that he's beaten me cleanly ONCE. Unless you count blowing bong smoke in my face as a clean win. And we all know that sitting back, letting the World's Champion do the work for you, then stealing the pinfall after doing nothing is always something to brag about, isn't it?
But regardless, Rob... Our mutual toking friend isn't here.
I am.
Perhaps your killer instinct has been rekindled... but I'm not naive enough to take you at your word. I welcome you to prove it. But by the same token, I'm going to prove to you and everbody else in this tournament that not only is the fire inside me burning brighter than ever, but that I'm capable of focusing that fire as fuel to take my fate into my own hands. I'll show you once and for all that I will not be governed by some imaginary schedule.
I've waited in the wings for too long. It's high time I finally took the initiative and blazed my own path. And that path will be blazed right through you, Rob. As formidable an opponent as you may be... I will not be daunted. Much less stopped. Any challenge placed in my way, I will overcome. Any obstacle placed in my path, I will push aside. Because I finally realize that the only limits upon me are those which I set for myself. And in that realization comes the reality that nothing is truly beyond me.
The time for waiting is over. Now is the time for action.
Beware the Sandstorm.
(FADEOUT)
(FADEIN: A balcony somewhere in the Sands Estate, overlooking a huge in-ground pool ringed by various trees. CHRISTIAN SANDS sits in a tall-backed armchair, one leg crossed over the other.)
(The spark blazing in his eyes, however, belies his casual posture.)
Sands: After watching that tape of yours, Rob, I was struck by something. A little phrase you brought up.
"Now is not your time..."
If I had a nickel for everytime someone has said that, I'd be rich... well, richer than I've recently become thanks to certain investments. It seems every time I go up against a different opponent, I hear it. "Christian, now is not you're time." "Christian, you're not ready." "Christian, it's not time for you yet." Constantly being thrown in my face.
I'm sick and f*cking tired of hearing that phrase.
Tell me, Rob. Is there some mystical calendar in the sky with dates marked off on it denoting when people achieve their goals? Is success in the wrestling world laid out on a schedule or a timetable? Because if it is, someone forgot to send me the memo. Since you seem intimately familiar with the calendar, though, maybe you could do me a favor. Give those pricks over at scheduling a call and tell them to add something. Have 'em add "Battleground Countdown Tour, December 2003 - Sampson, Rob Gets Fed Own Words By Sands, Christian." Thanks kindly... pally.
I'll let you in on a little secret I've learned, Rob... something that a lot of you grizzled veterans seem to have missed.
A man's time is when he makes it.
I tried being patient, Sampson. Throughout the entire SCW versus G.O.D debacle I sat back and let you, Dan, Kev and Gabe run the f*cking show. But just as I finally started to break free... just as I finally started to make a name for myself and establish myself as an individual rather than a hanger-on... Ed Brown took his ball, went home, and shut SCW down.
But that was the first step.
I've continued to bide my time since then... but only now am I realizing that it's all about taking the initiative. And I have taken it. Turn on your TV and watch some NFW on ESEN. Take note of the fact that I'm undefeated and scoring wins over some of this circuit's best and brightest. As for your obvious raising of the issue of my toking friend, Biggie Smalls, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to realize that he's beaten me cleanly ONCE. Unless you count blowing bong smoke in my face as a clean win. And we all know that sitting back, letting the World's Champion do the work for you, then stealing the pinfall after doing nothing is always something to brag about, isn't it?
But regardless, Rob... Our mutual toking friend isn't here.
I am.
Perhaps your killer instinct has been rekindled... but I'm not naive enough to take you at your word. I welcome you to prove it. But by the same token, I'm going to prove to you and everbody else in this tournament that not only is the fire inside me burning brighter than ever, but that I'm capable of focusing that fire as fuel to take my fate into my own hands. I'll show you once and for all that I will not be governed by some imaginary schedule.
I've waited in the wings for too long. It's high time I finally took the initiative and blazed my own path. And that path will be blazed right through you, Rob. As formidable an opponent as you may be... I will not be daunted. Much less stopped. Any challenge placed in my way, I will overcome. Any obstacle placed in my path, I will push aside. Because I finally realize that the only limits upon me are those which I set for myself. And in that realization comes the reality that nothing is truly beyond me.
The time for waiting is over. Now is the time for action.
Beware the Sandstorm.
(FADEOUT)
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Mr Main Event
League Member
(Fade in on the interior of Rob Sampson’s master bedroom. A suitcase has been set upon the bed and several items lain into it. In the background, Sampson can be seen bustling around, grabbing various clothing and sundry items to put in the suitcase. His assistant, Linda, follows close behind him, writing down the things he dictaters to her.)
RS: …and be sure that the dogs are fed and watered daily. The boy you hired last time neglected them terribly.
L: I’ve already made arrangements with someone I’ve been told is very dependable.
RS: Good. Now, how long until my flight departs?
(Linda checks her watch.)
L: You’ve got an hour or so, boss.
RS: Perfect. I’ll see in an hour then.
L: Right.
(Linda departs and Sampson packs a few more things into his suitcase before looking up at the camera.)
RS: Well, Christian, you’re right in stating that Boogie isn’t one around but you seem to be taking up his slack. I mean, after watching your last promo I’m convinced that you must be toking on something yourself.
Do you ever wonder exactly why people keep telling you that your time isn’t now? Couldn’t be because it just might be true, could it? Nah… you know the score, don’t you? You’ve been so so successful in GXW, haven’t you? Of course you have. You’re a former… well… nothing. Your GXW career hasn’t been so stellar, has it? Heh.
Tell ya what, Chris… if you’re so keen on scheduling why don’t we go ahead and call up all the dirt sheets and mark rags and have them prepare this headline:
”Christian Sands Runs Mouth, Falls Flat On Face”
That’s exactly what’s going to happen.
(Sampson sits down on the edge of his bed and continues.)
RS: You’re correct in saying that the only way you’ll make your mark is as an individual. That’s one lesson you learned quite well from me. I know because I’m the very man that took G.O.D. down from the inside. I had a dual agenda in doing so and I killed both birds with one stone. You… you’re just one bird, Chris, and I can definitely take you down just as easily.
All your doubts about me will be erased very soon. You’ve got a bright future ahead of you, Christian. Unfortunatly for you… it’s still not your time. See ya soon, kid.
(Fade out.)
RS: …and be sure that the dogs are fed and watered daily. The boy you hired last time neglected them terribly.
L: I’ve already made arrangements with someone I’ve been told is very dependable.
RS: Good. Now, how long until my flight departs?
(Linda checks her watch.)
L: You’ve got an hour or so, boss.
RS: Perfect. I’ll see in an hour then.
L: Right.
(Linda departs and Sampson packs a few more things into his suitcase before looking up at the camera.)
RS: Well, Christian, you’re right in stating that Boogie isn’t one around but you seem to be taking up his slack. I mean, after watching your last promo I’m convinced that you must be toking on something yourself.
Do you ever wonder exactly why people keep telling you that your time isn’t now? Couldn’t be because it just might be true, could it? Nah… you know the score, don’t you? You’ve been so so successful in GXW, haven’t you? Of course you have. You’re a former… well… nothing. Your GXW career hasn’t been so stellar, has it? Heh.
Tell ya what, Chris… if you’re so keen on scheduling why don’t we go ahead and call up all the dirt sheets and mark rags and have them prepare this headline:
”Christian Sands Runs Mouth, Falls Flat On Face”
That’s exactly what’s going to happen.
(Sampson sits down on the edge of his bed and continues.)
RS: You’re correct in saying that the only way you’ll make your mark is as an individual. That’s one lesson you learned quite well from me. I know because I’m the very man that took G.O.D. down from the inside. I had a dual agenda in doing so and I killed both birds with one stone. You… you’re just one bird, Chris, and I can definitely take you down just as easily.
All your doubts about me will be erased very soon. You’ve got a bright future ahead of you, Christian. Unfortunatly for you… it’s still not your time. See ya soon, kid.
(Fade out.)