JABolich
League Member
(FADEIN to CHRISTIAN SANDS smirking into the camera as he sits on a park bench)
SANDS: Awwwwww... Did I strike a nerve, Wolfie?
Exactly what prompted this little temper tantrum, Mike? Was it, perhaps, my promise to unzip my fly and piss on your salvation?
Alright. I'll reconsider it.
(He tilts his head in thought...)
...Nope, I'm still gonna do it.
You do realize, of course, that you're playing right into my hands. The more pissed off you are, the happier I get. If it's this easy to get inside your little head, you might as well quit now, 'cause I'll be able to walk all over you at this rate.
Do you really think that it intimidates me when you ramble on about breaking bones and seventy-five variations of armbar? What? ONLY seventy-five? Why not seventy-six? Why not seventy-seven? You're limiting yourself too much, Michael. See, calling me the man of a thousand holds would just be the tip of the iceberg. I've made a career of submission-style wrestling and flat-out superior technique and am recognized as one of the best in this business. So go ahead. Bring all seventy-five armbars, and I'll bring seventy-five counters for each one.
But heaven forbid we pay my skill any mind. Nooooo, let's continue to judge me based on one match.
I love how you sit there namedropping GOD and drawing a parallel to my little alliance with Autumn. You are, of course, wrong. GOD was an alliance created out of amusement. We wanted to humiliate SCW, so we did. My pact with Autumn was forged from common goals. We both want to take people like you down and establish ourselves as the new names of this company.
But yeah, that's right. Forging an alliance makes me somehow incompetent.
And let's also ignore the fact that I've stated many times that the Hornet incident was a rare fluke. No, the essence of me can be found in that one match. There's no need to point out that I've lost about five matches in two years and have won most of my matches of my own accord. There's also no need to point out the fact that occasional errors are only human. No - the truth is, Christian Sands is the only one who makes mistakes, and he makes them all the time! Hell, I guess I'm nothing more than a big mistake, Mike! You've got me pegged to a T, fuzzball! I wish I were JUST as perceptive as you!
Go ahead and take me to class, Mike, but keep in mind that I'm a rowdy student. Moreover, I don't take lessons from people not qualified to give them, especially not when they're spouting off about "THE MOST PAINFUL HURTY NASTY OUCHIE PLACE IN THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE!!! OH MY STARS, THE PAIN!!!"
Prove it to me, Mike.
However, you'll find two things.
One, I learned my lesson a long time ago.
Two, pain doesn't mean all that much to me. If it did, I wouldn't have signed your open contract. I've been through more in two years than many have in a career, and in that time I've grown quite used to intense pain - both taking it and dishing it out.
You want pain, Mikey? Cool. I'll give you a two-for-one deal, then. You can have a little physical pain when you're locked in one of my innumerable submission holds, then top it off with a little good ol' mental anguish when I drop my trunks and sh*t on that salvation you hold so dear. Buy one, get one free!
I disrespect what you stand for because what you stand for doesn't deserve my respect. Why should I respect you? Your personal demons don't mean anything to me. It's not my fault if you hate yourself. If you weren't such a b*tch, you wouldn't BE in that position. Me, I don't NEED salvation because I can accept everything that I've done. Do I care if people find it repugnant that I copped a feel off Lindsay Troy? No. What matters is that I enjoyed it. Hell, I even accept what Autumn and I did to ol' Buzz Boy, if only because it saved my bacon from what could've been a rather irritating mistake.
Here's some advice, Mike, if you really wanna exorcise those demons. GIVE IN TO THEM. Don't think of them as demons. Think of them as necessary steps that got you to where you are. There's no shame in it. I enjoy it, actually.
If you'd like, I can give you a few pointers at PRIMETIME about how to embrace your demons again. Come on. You know you want to. Without demons, what are you? Incomplete. A shell of a man, groping blindly for some ideal that you'll never find. After I defeat you, I can give you a REAL lesson instead of all your bullsh*t lesson-in-respect, lesson-in-pain garbage. I'll give you a lesson in living. Give into your demons, Mike. You'll have to if you're going to defeat me, because all your holier-than-thou sermons aren't going to do any good against a man who lives life on the dark side of the fence.
Go ahead. Convince yourself that you know my limits. But until YOU stop limiting yourself and learn to accept your dark side, you won't realize what it can do for you.
Limits, Mike?
There are no limits for me.
(FADEOUT)
SANDS: Awwwwww... Did I strike a nerve, Wolfie?
Exactly what prompted this little temper tantrum, Mike? Was it, perhaps, my promise to unzip my fly and piss on your salvation?
Alright. I'll reconsider it.
(He tilts his head in thought...)
...Nope, I'm still gonna do it.
You do realize, of course, that you're playing right into my hands. The more pissed off you are, the happier I get. If it's this easy to get inside your little head, you might as well quit now, 'cause I'll be able to walk all over you at this rate.
Do you really think that it intimidates me when you ramble on about breaking bones and seventy-five variations of armbar? What? ONLY seventy-five? Why not seventy-six? Why not seventy-seven? You're limiting yourself too much, Michael. See, calling me the man of a thousand holds would just be the tip of the iceberg. I've made a career of submission-style wrestling and flat-out superior technique and am recognized as one of the best in this business. So go ahead. Bring all seventy-five armbars, and I'll bring seventy-five counters for each one.
But heaven forbid we pay my skill any mind. Nooooo, let's continue to judge me based on one match.
I love how you sit there namedropping GOD and drawing a parallel to my little alliance with Autumn. You are, of course, wrong. GOD was an alliance created out of amusement. We wanted to humiliate SCW, so we did. My pact with Autumn was forged from common goals. We both want to take people like you down and establish ourselves as the new names of this company.
But yeah, that's right. Forging an alliance makes me somehow incompetent.
And let's also ignore the fact that I've stated many times that the Hornet incident was a rare fluke. No, the essence of me can be found in that one match. There's no need to point out that I've lost about five matches in two years and have won most of my matches of my own accord. There's also no need to point out the fact that occasional errors are only human. No - the truth is, Christian Sands is the only one who makes mistakes, and he makes them all the time! Hell, I guess I'm nothing more than a big mistake, Mike! You've got me pegged to a T, fuzzball! I wish I were JUST as perceptive as you!
Go ahead and take me to class, Mike, but keep in mind that I'm a rowdy student. Moreover, I don't take lessons from people not qualified to give them, especially not when they're spouting off about "THE MOST PAINFUL HURTY NASTY OUCHIE PLACE IN THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE!!! OH MY STARS, THE PAIN!!!"
Prove it to me, Mike.
However, you'll find two things.
One, I learned my lesson a long time ago.
Two, pain doesn't mean all that much to me. If it did, I wouldn't have signed your open contract. I've been through more in two years than many have in a career, and in that time I've grown quite used to intense pain - both taking it and dishing it out.
You want pain, Mikey? Cool. I'll give you a two-for-one deal, then. You can have a little physical pain when you're locked in one of my innumerable submission holds, then top it off with a little good ol' mental anguish when I drop my trunks and sh*t on that salvation you hold so dear. Buy one, get one free!
I disrespect what you stand for because what you stand for doesn't deserve my respect. Why should I respect you? Your personal demons don't mean anything to me. It's not my fault if you hate yourself. If you weren't such a b*tch, you wouldn't BE in that position. Me, I don't NEED salvation because I can accept everything that I've done. Do I care if people find it repugnant that I copped a feel off Lindsay Troy? No. What matters is that I enjoyed it. Hell, I even accept what Autumn and I did to ol' Buzz Boy, if only because it saved my bacon from what could've been a rather irritating mistake.
Here's some advice, Mike, if you really wanna exorcise those demons. GIVE IN TO THEM. Don't think of them as demons. Think of them as necessary steps that got you to where you are. There's no shame in it. I enjoy it, actually.
If you'd like, I can give you a few pointers at PRIMETIME about how to embrace your demons again. Come on. You know you want to. Without demons, what are you? Incomplete. A shell of a man, groping blindly for some ideal that you'll never find. After I defeat you, I can give you a REAL lesson instead of all your bullsh*t lesson-in-respect, lesson-in-pain garbage. I'll give you a lesson in living. Give into your demons, Mike. You'll have to if you're going to defeat me, because all your holier-than-thou sermons aren't going to do any good against a man who lives life on the dark side of the fence.
Go ahead. Convince yourself that you know my limits. But until YOU stop limiting yourself and learn to accept your dark side, you won't realize what it can do for you.
Limits, Mike?
There are no limits for me.
(FADEOUT)