SigilOfLeviBF
Terrance's #2 Fan
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- Jan 1, 2000
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[updated:LAST EDITED ON Jun-26-03 AT 09:02 AM (EST)](FADEIN: A moving camera starts from the floor of a messy Manhattan apartment, showing you various things of disgust; used bicycle shorts from an early film by Castor V. Strife; officially licensed El Puta underwear, stained with a ring of urine; an burnt dildo; a small chihuahua(?) dog eating out of a bag of stale cheetohs, and finally, the camera begins to pan back, revealing Castor Strife himself lounging on his couch chair, looking very uninspired.)
CASTOR: Goodbye California. Hello East coast. For years, you've been awaiting my inherent departure from the West, knowing full well that you were my only other option, just salivating over the commodity that is a Castor V. Strife production; and I hate you for it. (Sitting up) However, I can't blame you for turning my prized work into a dollar sign. If only I had less integrity, I'd do the same thing. Happy I am to be escaping the clutches of the South, though. I could- could mention incest and a disbelief in evolution as to why the ones below Mason-Dixie are generally uninspired on an artistic level, but really, (bleep) it. It's cliche, and too many people get over using it. I could take shots at my new city by mentioning the overwhelming unwashed mass of people who's last names end in vowels, most of whom either enjoy a nice plate of Goya rice, or a big bowl of Spaghetti, but no, I'm not going to say those things either. Screw it. It's old. Just like everything else in this tired sport, everything you people say and do has a receding hairline and gray testicles. NFW made pennies for profit last year, and deserved it. Those 'top tier' matches you've all been hearing about? Merely the same crap Quentin Sullivan's been regurgitating out of his mouth for the last few years. Who the hell was our last champion any- oh, right, it was that guy Shane "I'm the most boring wrestler since those Russian guys from the '50's" Southern, with a supporting cast of guys fresh out of the fast-food industry who juggled around the T.V., or the U.S...whatever the hell you call that damn middle title. Oh, and let's not forget about those guys who held the tag team titles since about the first show.
You'd think with a man who's name is only worth mentioning among those of Scorsese, Coppola, and Spielburg on his way to your organization, things would change so as to be more conducive to that artist's needs, but alas, NO. I'm just lumped in with the rest of the hacks. And don't give me that crap about the new format; the CSWA bascially took a sh*t-piss on our front lawn, and we used it to fill 'North' and 'South' rosters. As if that old rivalry has been worth a damn since the Civil War, which is also, coincidentally, around the time most of those guys started out. I'm introduced as a B director, yet, oh, Hornet is the man of mind games and mystery. Please; Hornet's about the most exciting wrestler since Abe Lincoln, and there is absolutely NO MYSTERY surrounding the South's transformation into the big Hornet circle-jerk. And perhaps the grayest testicle of them all, Joey Melton, (laughs while speaking) actually has the NERVE to start yelling on the mic. about taking the Ultratitle, and taking our dignity. You know what my team's going to take? I'm gonna take you out of wrestling, Joey, and Benjamin's gonna take a piss in your mouth. How about that? Christ, this guy's bones were on display at the Museum of goddamn Natural History not too long ago, but leave it to Sullivan and gang to reanimate turd for the sake of profit. On the upside, however, it looks like Bloodhunt will NOT be making a triumphant return to the ring. Instead, he'll probably appear alongside the Warhol collection of meaningless garbage turned modern art at a gallery near you. Besides that, however, there's not much to be looking forward to in the next couple of years or so. If art truly meets humanity, then the whole locker room's sharing one palette, because I merely yawn at the thought of the Ultratitle. There is only remedy, though; chaos. A complete NFW enima. Because you all stopped being inspired, it is now my job to bury this league's sh*t in the ground, keeping it there for good. I suppose that means I've got to win the Ultratitle as well. No matter, it's all the same to me.
Well kids, what did we learn from Crash TV? That Castro and Montezuma must always be mentioned in the same sentence; that Joey Melton has more money and class than the rest of you; that Hornet is so mysterious, he's actually predictable; that the name Shane Southern truly does mean that the party's over; and finally, that Castor V. Strife now has the responsibility of moving NFW into at least the 19th century. Please, don't bother throwing a fit over what I'm saying; it's not necessary. You're lucky I even speak to you. Ciao.
(FTB)
CASTOR: Goodbye California. Hello East coast. For years, you've been awaiting my inherent departure from the West, knowing full well that you were my only other option, just salivating over the commodity that is a Castor V. Strife production; and I hate you for it. (Sitting up) However, I can't blame you for turning my prized work into a dollar sign. If only I had less integrity, I'd do the same thing. Happy I am to be escaping the clutches of the South, though. I could- could mention incest and a disbelief in evolution as to why the ones below Mason-Dixie are generally uninspired on an artistic level, but really, (bleep) it. It's cliche, and too many people get over using it. I could take shots at my new city by mentioning the overwhelming unwashed mass of people who's last names end in vowels, most of whom either enjoy a nice plate of Goya rice, or a big bowl of Spaghetti, but no, I'm not going to say those things either. Screw it. It's old. Just like everything else in this tired sport, everything you people say and do has a receding hairline and gray testicles. NFW made pennies for profit last year, and deserved it. Those 'top tier' matches you've all been hearing about? Merely the same crap Quentin Sullivan's been regurgitating out of his mouth for the last few years. Who the hell was our last champion any- oh, right, it was that guy Shane "I'm the most boring wrestler since those Russian guys from the '50's" Southern, with a supporting cast of guys fresh out of the fast-food industry who juggled around the T.V., or the U.S...whatever the hell you call that damn middle title. Oh, and let's not forget about those guys who held the tag team titles since about the first show.
You'd think with a man who's name is only worth mentioning among those of Scorsese, Coppola, and Spielburg on his way to your organization, things would change so as to be more conducive to that artist's needs, but alas, NO. I'm just lumped in with the rest of the hacks. And don't give me that crap about the new format; the CSWA bascially took a sh*t-piss on our front lawn, and we used it to fill 'North' and 'South' rosters. As if that old rivalry has been worth a damn since the Civil War, which is also, coincidentally, around the time most of those guys started out. I'm introduced as a B director, yet, oh, Hornet is the man of mind games and mystery. Please; Hornet's about the most exciting wrestler since Abe Lincoln, and there is absolutely NO MYSTERY surrounding the South's transformation into the big Hornet circle-jerk. And perhaps the grayest testicle of them all, Joey Melton, (laughs while speaking) actually has the NERVE to start yelling on the mic. about taking the Ultratitle, and taking our dignity. You know what my team's going to take? I'm gonna take you out of wrestling, Joey, and Benjamin's gonna take a piss in your mouth. How about that? Christ, this guy's bones were on display at the Museum of goddamn Natural History not too long ago, but leave it to Sullivan and gang to reanimate turd for the sake of profit. On the upside, however, it looks like Bloodhunt will NOT be making a triumphant return to the ring. Instead, he'll probably appear alongside the Warhol collection of meaningless garbage turned modern art at a gallery near you. Besides that, however, there's not much to be looking forward to in the next couple of years or so. If art truly meets humanity, then the whole locker room's sharing one palette, because I merely yawn at the thought of the Ultratitle. There is only remedy, though; chaos. A complete NFW enima. Because you all stopped being inspired, it is now my job to bury this league's sh*t in the ground, keeping it there for good. I suppose that means I've got to win the Ultratitle as well. No matter, it's all the same to me.
Well kids, what did we learn from Crash TV? That Castro and Montezuma must always be mentioned in the same sentence; that Joey Melton has more money and class than the rest of you; that Hornet is so mysterious, he's actually predictable; that the name Shane Southern truly does mean that the party's over; and finally, that Castor V. Strife now has the responsibility of moving NFW into at least the 19th century. Please, don't bother throwing a fit over what I'm saying; it's not necessary. You're lucky I even speak to you. Ciao.
(FTB)
