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The End
We enter a room, it’s your every day room. You have the TV hanging in the top right corner, different medical machines all around, and a bed housing a hurt soul. Johnny walks into the picture walks to the side of the bed and picks up a ‘get well’ card. He smirks Get better, were pulling for you. You think people would take the time to write a little more in a card that is supposed to pick you up, make you feel as if your not laying in a bed with injuries that could very well kill you. Where is the creative writing, the words that should have one ready to take on any medical fight that may come there way. Unoriginal. Uncreative. Plain If I would have to guess this card was sent by my good friend Matt Marvel. He’s the king of unoriginal. I mean how many times are we going to listen to his sad line about my bandana? It’s as if he is stuck on replay. Or he’s running out of things to say. I believe it’s a little of both. I mean it’s had to happen. You could only say so much about a fella you hate. I know I’ve spent a good part of the week banging my head against a wall. But I never recycled. Never Had to. Unlike you Matt Besides repeating yourself, you contradicted yourself. You can sit there and say I attack people’s self esteemed and Ill admit I do, you wanna know why? Because it works. Look at what it has done to you Matt, your soul searching, Your trying to find that edge, looking at Dari for some sort of kick in the balls. I broke you Matt, I’ve broken your spirit, You’re down and out my friend. The Vital Signs match hasn’t even begun and your already defeated. Johnny walks around the room, begins to play with the buttons on the TV You know, every time I am given a big match against Matt Marvel he throws out the same bullshit. I could have started this week and ran a rant with everything he was going to say. I guess it shows the similarities in challenges. No one can ever come up with something original. It’s always the same shit but from a different mouth. Or it’s the same shit from the same mouth. Again I’m talking to you Matt Saying the same shit over and over and all I can do is applaud you. Thank you for presenting the ignorance in America today. Thank you for representing the close-minded, the foolish, and the stupid. Keep saying that both my wins over you were some fluke and this and that, throw some other excuses out there. If that helps you sleep at night, bitch, then keep saying it. You can trick your own mind into believing something but everyone knows what happened. Everyone knows how you fell victim, twice, to the viciousness of SBK. You say that the third time’s the charm and I believe you too. The third time is the time I break your jaw and you keep my name out of your mouth. So, Matt, I’ll give you the same amount of time you gave me. However, what I said made sense. What I said didn’t drip of ignorance and what I said didn’t make me look foolish. What I said wasn’t stuck on repeat. Quite frankly, Matt, at Vital Sign you’ll have a long laceration around your neck when I hang you from the ropes and dig out the treasure that will always be mine. X marks the spot. I know how you are, Matt. So, don’t feel so bad when I break your back and send you to the chiropractor. It might actually be good for you. No, that wasn’t an old joke. Matt, I don’t care about your new look. It doesn’t give you a edge, your new frame of thinking isn’t going help you. Because when you in the ring, your gonna pull out the same played out shit that cost you two straight loses. People like me Matt? People like me don’t give a fuck if you throwing a new look around, no gives a fuck if your fighting for poor Dari, shit son You’re the reason he‘s in that bed. Play that guilt trip with me and Sam, the same thing applies to you Matt. Dari is in that bed, bleeding like a stuck pig because of you. Think of this as me getting some pay back for poor little Dari, Ill make sure you fall to my blade and you’re going to like it. Then Ill use my pretty little bandana to wipe that pretty little smirk right off your face I told you your defeating yourself, Your contradicting yourself too many times. You spent a long time studying my entrance and for what? To comment on my bandanna? And you don’t understand how you lose two straight times? When I find something boring I don’t finish it. I don’t continue on because boring things don’t intrigue me. So something in my entrance must have caught your attention. Was it the stunning pyro? Was it the jealousy you have? Because, let’s face it, you’re jealous. And your right my titles don’t mean anything here, but they do mean something. It means that I have talent, ability, skill, and everything you claim to have but don’t. It means that I can talk for three hours, go into the ring and beat your ass in three minutes. It’s that simple, Matt. Accept the harsh reality. I’m on the edge of my seat waiting for the next nugget of wisdom you’re going to spew from your mouth. What is it going to be? Are you going to say that I don’t know the history of a championship and I don’t respect my championship and that you’re going to restore the honor back to the elite championship? Wait… you… said… that… too. See, a championship is nothing without the person who wears the belt. A person defines the legacy of a belt and I’d have to say I’m doing a damn good job with this championship. Hell, this title never got any recognition until I won it. Now look at it. Everyone wants a piece of it. I could say that I’m going to walk into Vital Signs, keep what is mine, and walk out… but that’s already been said. So, instead, I’ll give you a preview of the future. SBK: STILL Elite Champion. I’m on my World Elite Tour. You better buy your tickets in advance. Seats are sure to sell out quickly. Then you can all purchase your limited time t-shirts that will display the finalization of SBK’s Elite Run. Johnny stands at the foot of the bed, in disbelief over the body that is laying there, sedated with tons of pain medications. I bet there on cloud nine, sleeping without remembering there laid up in a hospital. Johnny brings his hands up and says a little pry for the hurt soul Do you honestly believe that you’re going to walk into my ring and get the better of me? Do you honestly believe that you’re going to eliminate the greatest wrestler on this earth Matt? Do you? Look at yourself in the mirror, Matt. I want you to examine every facial feature on your face. Your nostrils. Your mouth. Your ears. Your eyes. Why? After this match, your nose will be sunken down to your mouth. Your eyes will be swollen shut and your ears will immediately be inflicted with the deadly cauliflower ear. You mouth will be swollen so bad you won’t be able to speak for months. After this match, you’re not going to be anything like you were before. I’m going to take you to your limit. I’m going to bend and break you in ways you’d never imagined. I’m going to break your back in ways to where you will never be able to walk again. Do you think I’m bluffing, Matt? Just try me. Try me when we get into that ring. I shall leave you laying next to poor Dari, in the same boat. I just hope your insurance covers yea injuries. I can sum up your attempt thus far in three words: Cute. Ignorant. Judgmental. Matt, don’t respect me. I don’t want or need your respect. I don’t need anything from you to make me feel better. I don’t want anything from you but your body on my shoulders as you go for a three sixty and land in a straight line. It’s the way of SBK and if you don’t like it then don’t come to the match. Matt, I’m not a nice guy, I hope you don‘t believe that are past battles have made me soft. I’m a cold hearted, selfless bastard. The only two people I care about are me and my wife. I will tell you how I feel, show you the dagger, and insert it into your back. I have no remorse, no regret, and no hesitation. Don’t be surprised when I capitalize on your hesitation and break your back. Don’t be surprised when I take your best move and counter it into my best move. Don’t be surprised when you’re not the victor in this match. Keep reminding yourself that I am dangerous in the ring. Keep reminding yourself that I am a man to be feared. After the match, I’ll send you three tapes so you can watch how I beat your ass three times over. I have a sneaking suspicion you won’t understand this. Whatever you bring to the ring will not measure up to what I bring. Whatever you bring will never amount to what I have. You will not stop me from obtaining my rightful place as king of the mountain. I’ll let you talk down to me. I’ll let you believe that my mind games don’t work. Matt, you’re too naïve to see that I already have your mind reeling. I’ve got you flipping a lid over my claims and my talk. Realize that I know that talk is cheap in our business. What you do in the ring is all that matters. Even you know that I have talent. You know what I can do so you are afraid. You’re afraid that what you keep strapped around you like a dildo will be gone soon. You’re afraid that you’ve finally met your match. You’re afraid of SBK. Just admit it. I’m not going to beat you within an inch of your life… yet. This week is all about showing you the ropes. This week is showing you a taste… a drop… of what I am really all about. Try and stop it Matt, I dare you, and you’ll be in for a terrifying End Result for the 3rd time. Try and stop me and you will be like a falling star from the sky when you’re brought back down to reality from the high cloud you’re on. Then you can look God in the face and realize that what happened to you is just a taste. A drop of my Manifest. Matt, face Reality…You are sadly blinded by rage and that will ultimately be your downfall when it comes down to the end. You will be so busy trying to prove yourself that you will never see me coming. You’ll be so busy trying to garner respect from everyone that you’ll never see my boot coming. You’ll be so busy trying to fight for poor ol’ Dari that you’ll never see God smirking on your pathetic body. You will be a puppet in my hands and I’ll do whatever I want with you. Expect the worst my friend Matt, I’m going to make an example out of you. You’re going to be a victim and there will be nothing you can do about it. You’re walking down a road you’re not familiar with. At the end of that road you will see a silhouette of a man and you’ll walk closer and that man will break your neck. Before he does though, he will softly whisper something in your ear. Do you know what it will be? Fear God. You’re trying to be the hero. I protest the hero. I will protest your appearance in the main event. I will protest Matt until SBK is standing before you one last time. Then what will you do Matt? You’ll drift off into the sun where you will see only memories and lost hope. I would say I didn’t warn you but I did. I warned you from the start. You are just blind to it. I do want you to do one thing though. After the match and you are battered, bruised, and bloody… when people ask you if you’re alright I want you to utter two words. Fear SBK. Johnny picks up the clipboard at the edge of the bed, and begins to read the injuries. Broken Ribs…Fracture Disc in the spine…Internal bleeding… A voice is heard entering the room as Sam walks in from behind rubbing the back of Styles. She has a few stitches on her head, but other then that she got a clean bill of health, still not clear about are child. To early to tell, for the sake of Matt, they better be alright. You ready Johnny? Yea, just giving him my best wishes Johnny throws his arm around Samantha and the two walks out the room, leaving the clipboard on the bed. The camera zooms into the name on the board… DARI WHEELER --FIN-- |