EastPrez
Pressure Chief
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 392
- Points
- 0
(FADEIN: To the Bel Air Equestrian Society, a huge expanse of open air, and lots of elegant white fencing encasing stables, racing track and some of the worlds' finest thoroughbreds. The camera is trained on a competition jumping course. We hear heavy hoofsteps off camera, and suddenly OVER THE CAMERA JUMPS A BEAUTIFUL WHITE HORSE, totally clearing it - which lands yards away, and circles into a trot. We look up at the horse, which is being mounted by none other than BLAINE HOLLYWOOD. Wearing a double breasted houndstooth jacket, riding cap, boots and pantaloons, He dismounts the steed and from either side of the camera, stable boys come in to prep his horse. HOLLYWOOD steps up to the camera, removing black leather riding gloves, squinting at it with a look of disgust.)
H'WOOD: "YOU DISGUST ME.YOU... 'FANS' AS WELL AS THE POPLE WHO RAISED YOU. (Turns back to the boys tending to his horse) YOU TWO. (They snap to attention) Don't you EVER feed Trustfund carrots from the commoners kitchen EVER AGAIN. If you know what's good for you, you will feed this, as well as ALL OF MY STEEDS from private stock of organic crops from the Hollywood gardens, or you and your families will be back selling oranges on the side of I-10, understand me? (Fast nods, as they scurry away. H'WOOD turns back to the camera) Ah, yes. I was interrupted before I could properly speak against you and what I see here. For all of you who have no idea who I am, or what I represent, (stands back and inspects himself) UNDERSTAND THAT YOU ARE LOOKING AT YOUR BETTER IN LIFE. My name is Blaine Hollywood, and I am from WRESTLING ROYALTY. When they speak of 'second and third generation wrestlers', people always speak with an air of respect in their voice, especially when THIS bloodline is of such pure, untainted stock. For you must understand, that I, Blaine Hollywood, am the son of a wrestling great, who's name does not need to be repeated, because you know of whom I speak. And rather than follow where my father has gone and come, I as a HUMAN THUROUGHBRED, a man of caliber that is beyond normalcy, must blaze ahead his own trails. And not even a New Frontier (Smirks, then scoffs to himself) but to come to the place of LEGENDS, a pantheon of wrestling TITANS, the CSWA, where I am here to run roughshod through a line of weak-hearted pissants who shouldn't even be able to work in this COUNTRY, let alone to be regulated to wrestle in the same company as myself.
"For you see, I don't speak from a place of ignorance, HA! Far from it - I speak TRUTH, and the word of an OXONIAN, a graduate of UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD is as good as CERTIFIED. While the people in those stands who think that a Beel Throw is a pillow that you purchase from a Pier 1 store, understand that I have been educated in a place where leaders of the free world studied, where thinkers and poets, people of SUBSTANCE AND WORTH came together to share their brilliance, and you are probably more familiar with some sort of 'state' university or community college (IF you even could get accepted there), so don't be upset with yourself if you don't understand what comes forth from my majestic mouth, as I believe that you and the sub-creatures that raised you are about as low on the evoloutionary scale as to be a generation or so from sliding back into the ocean, or primordial soup from whence you came. You may notice a pattern is forming - that I don't hold stupid people in high regard, so I believe I will have a small audience of fans the longer I am stuck wrestling in North Carolina. (Shudders) TO THINK OF IT turns my stomach - but to show the world that I AM IT'S NEW SAVIOR, then I must soldier on, and if that means I must re-educate the wrestling dumb, deaf and blind, then I will accept this into my hands.
"Now, please don't misunderstand me. For when I spoke of the CSWA of being a company of Kings, I spoke of PAST Kings, crushed kingdoms that lay in ruin, and are still run on memories - fueled by highlight clip packages and montages of old-timer moments... of young Hornets making young childrens eyes wide with wonder, and things like that. What I see NOW? (laughs to himself, shaking his head) I DON'T SEE THAT NOW. What I see, is a place running on fumes, held together with bubblegum and duct tape by a man I ACTUALLY RESPECT, Troy Windham, and that's a very short list. Everyone else here is LAUGHABLE. To think that I am not the Heir Apparent is a fools errand. To not accept that you are staring at Future Perfect is FRUITLESS. And if I have to dissect each and every one of these 'new lions' to show the world that I, at some time in the near future, sit atop the CSWA as the ONE AND ONLY KING, then so be it, Just know that your time is almost up. Enjoy your life of mediocrity and sucking on the teat of apathy, because EYE WILL make you vomit after working you harder than anyone ever has in that ring. EYE WILL make you understand that when a Letterman in Division A Wrestling from OXFORD puts you into a submission hold, IT WILL NEARLY COST YOU A LIMB. EYE WILL dishonor, disrespect and DISEMBOWEL YOU, if given the chance. You have had your warning, CSWA, Pretenders to the throne, leave now while you still can. Blaine Hollywood has arrived, and the property values of CSWA have just increased HUNDRED-FOLD."
(One of the stablehands comes back over to the horse with a salt lick, and tries to stick it under 'Trustfunds' nose, when H'WOOD wheels around and SMACKS IT AWAY!)
H'WOOD: "WHERE IS THAT SALT FROM? DID I APPROVE THAT? YOU ARE FIRED! Pack up your rucksack and hobo stick, gather your toothless parents from the haystack you sleep on - time to leave the premises!" (FADEOUT)
H'WOOD: "YOU DISGUST ME.YOU... 'FANS' AS WELL AS THE POPLE WHO RAISED YOU. (Turns back to the boys tending to his horse) YOU TWO. (They snap to attention) Don't you EVER feed Trustfund carrots from the commoners kitchen EVER AGAIN. If you know what's good for you, you will feed this, as well as ALL OF MY STEEDS from private stock of organic crops from the Hollywood gardens, or you and your families will be back selling oranges on the side of I-10, understand me? (Fast nods, as they scurry away. H'WOOD turns back to the camera) Ah, yes. I was interrupted before I could properly speak against you and what I see here. For all of you who have no idea who I am, or what I represent, (stands back and inspects himself) UNDERSTAND THAT YOU ARE LOOKING AT YOUR BETTER IN LIFE. My name is Blaine Hollywood, and I am from WRESTLING ROYALTY. When they speak of 'second and third generation wrestlers', people always speak with an air of respect in their voice, especially when THIS bloodline is of such pure, untainted stock. For you must understand, that I, Blaine Hollywood, am the son of a wrestling great, who's name does not need to be repeated, because you know of whom I speak. And rather than follow where my father has gone and come, I as a HUMAN THUROUGHBRED, a man of caliber that is beyond normalcy, must blaze ahead his own trails. And not even a New Frontier (Smirks, then scoffs to himself) but to come to the place of LEGENDS, a pantheon of wrestling TITANS, the CSWA, where I am here to run roughshod through a line of weak-hearted pissants who shouldn't even be able to work in this COUNTRY, let alone to be regulated to wrestle in the same company as myself.
"For you see, I don't speak from a place of ignorance, HA! Far from it - I speak TRUTH, and the word of an OXONIAN, a graduate of UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD is as good as CERTIFIED. While the people in those stands who think that a Beel Throw is a pillow that you purchase from a Pier 1 store, understand that I have been educated in a place where leaders of the free world studied, where thinkers and poets, people of SUBSTANCE AND WORTH came together to share their brilliance, and you are probably more familiar with some sort of 'state' university or community college (IF you even could get accepted there), so don't be upset with yourself if you don't understand what comes forth from my majestic mouth, as I believe that you and the sub-creatures that raised you are about as low on the evoloutionary scale as to be a generation or so from sliding back into the ocean, or primordial soup from whence you came. You may notice a pattern is forming - that I don't hold stupid people in high regard, so I believe I will have a small audience of fans the longer I am stuck wrestling in North Carolina. (Shudders) TO THINK OF IT turns my stomach - but to show the world that I AM IT'S NEW SAVIOR, then I must soldier on, and if that means I must re-educate the wrestling dumb, deaf and blind, then I will accept this into my hands.
"Now, please don't misunderstand me. For when I spoke of the CSWA of being a company of Kings, I spoke of PAST Kings, crushed kingdoms that lay in ruin, and are still run on memories - fueled by highlight clip packages and montages of old-timer moments... of young Hornets making young childrens eyes wide with wonder, and things like that. What I see NOW? (laughs to himself, shaking his head) I DON'T SEE THAT NOW. What I see, is a place running on fumes, held together with bubblegum and duct tape by a man I ACTUALLY RESPECT, Troy Windham, and that's a very short list. Everyone else here is LAUGHABLE. To think that I am not the Heir Apparent is a fools errand. To not accept that you are staring at Future Perfect is FRUITLESS. And if I have to dissect each and every one of these 'new lions' to show the world that I, at some time in the near future, sit atop the CSWA as the ONE AND ONLY KING, then so be it, Just know that your time is almost up. Enjoy your life of mediocrity and sucking on the teat of apathy, because EYE WILL make you vomit after working you harder than anyone ever has in that ring. EYE WILL make you understand that when a Letterman in Division A Wrestling from OXFORD puts you into a submission hold, IT WILL NEARLY COST YOU A LIMB. EYE WILL dishonor, disrespect and DISEMBOWEL YOU, if given the chance. You have had your warning, CSWA, Pretenders to the throne, leave now while you still can. Blaine Hollywood has arrived, and the property values of CSWA have just increased HUNDRED-FOLD."
(One of the stablehands comes back over to the horse with a salt lick, and tries to stick it under 'Trustfunds' nose, when H'WOOD wheels around and SMACKS IT AWAY!)
H'WOOD: "WHERE IS THAT SALT FROM? DID I APPROVE THAT? YOU ARE FIRED! Pack up your rucksack and hobo stick, gather your toothless parents from the haystack you sleep on - time to leave the premises!" (FADEOUT)