jayshort
Long Live THE KING
[updated:LAST EDITED ON Aug-07-02 AT 05:34 PM (EDT)]Orlando, Florida. August 7, 2002. Camera Rolling.
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[small]The scene opened up in a place, that could be described as, the middle of nowhere to most... but to Sean "Triple X" Stevens... sitting on the hood of his 1969 Chevy Camaro, during the middle of the day, staring up at the sky, while the rest of the world, especially busy, downtown Orlando, Florida conducted business as usual... was the perfect ending to what started out as a dreadful day spent on plane after plane, until finally reaching Florida at around one o'clock in the morning.[/small]
"Sometimes I gotta tell it like is... and, call a spade a spade. ...am I rattled, Poe? No. My mind is as clear as it's ever been. There is nothing you can say or do to me to make me stutter or stammer. There is no mind game you can play, that'll leave me speechless. But, I'd be a lying if I said you didn't get to me in the slightest little way. I admit it... gather Miso, your b#tch Powers, a case of 'Heineken' to keep him still for about two seconds, and have them give you a round of applause."
[small]Sean sat up for a moment, turning his entire body in the direction of the camera. He's wearing a 100% cotton, "Planet Earth's Champion" t-shirt, blue jeans, and comfortable 'Nike' slippers.[/small]
"Don't get too excited, though, Pac... let me explain. You didn't get to me with what you said... you could never do that. Your vocabulary is too limited. Your knowledge of the game, and more importantly, of me and my personal life... isn't impressive in the least. Your mind games... mentioning Lucky... they're weak... Wicked Sight material, at best... perhaps I gave you too much credit. Why did I ask you to ask Eli Flair, Kevin Powers, and Randy Harders? It's really quite simple, stupid. You're the one wasting CSWA air time making claims about me and my career, sounding like nothing more than an idiot.
"In your eyes... I was weak and defenseless at Fish Fund. The world the way you see it, has me stuck in some sort of Eli Flair impression. But, that's not accurate, Gabriel. Your way isn't the only way. Your world isn't the real world. What is Triple X? It's three X's you dumb son- of- a- b#tch. What was your point in even asking that. Why on earth would you waste an entire promo trying to make a point you couldn't make?
"You're losing it, Poe. Or maybe you never had it in the first place. ...who knows... But, to answer one of your questions... Yes. ...yeah Triple X sells the same t- shirts, that ultimately put money in my pocket. So? Atleast I don't walk around with blue hair, tagging my girlfriend with silly little nicknames like the 'Dark Lotus', preaching to a choir who didn't bother to show up for choir practice."
[small]Stevens paused... apparently thinking... before beginning again.[/small]
"Atleast I don't have to regurgitate a Kevin Powers insult, just so I'll have something to talk about. And, excuse me for asking... but, what f#ck#ng stuff have you been smoking that has you believing that I am the one with everything to gain and nothing to lose? Gabriel... you're NOT important here anymore. Nobody gives a flying f#ck whether you come or go... leave or stay... get hit by a bus or a car.
"And, stop telling me MY history. I know it. I've lived it. In your mind you think it's getting you somewhere, and you're right... it is. It's getting you on my sh#tlist, and that's a place you can't afford to be. This isn't the HEW, Pac... nineteen ninety- nine came and went three years ago. I'm better than you in every way imagineable, and I'm not just talking.
"I don't need to ask Ivy, Flair, or Kendall Codine anything about you. You're not worth the energy. You're not in my league. You're a washed up hasbeen hanging on to what's left of your TIRED career by a death grip. But, I'm telling you this, Poe... keep talking... keep running your mouth... keep putting my personal business on public display... and, I'm gonna see to it that you lose that grip. This isn't a game. I'm not afraid of you, or any dark alley setting, lightning effects, or abandoned warehouse, you and your camera crew create to make you look... scary. I'm not afraid, first and foremost, because I have all confidence in my abilities... but, even if I didn't... I'd take my cue from that cameraman you threatened to make pay, if he showed you in the process of being pimped by your girl, only for him to show it anyway."
[small]Sean smirked.[/small]
"In Gainsville... Prepare to lose. Prepare to get beaten within an inch of your life. And, prepare to bow to the master, all in route to you finally bowing out for good. Because I'm making an example out of you. And, there aint a damned thing an entire army can do to stop me. ...let alone, little ol' you."
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fade- in:
[small]The scene opened up in a place, that could be described as, the middle of nowhere to most... but to Sean "Triple X" Stevens... sitting on the hood of his 1969 Chevy Camaro, during the middle of the day, staring up at the sky, while the rest of the world, especially busy, downtown Orlando, Florida conducted business as usual... was the perfect ending to what started out as a dreadful day spent on plane after plane, until finally reaching Florida at around one o'clock in the morning.[/small]
"Sometimes I gotta tell it like is... and, call a spade a spade. ...am I rattled, Poe? No. My mind is as clear as it's ever been. There is nothing you can say or do to me to make me stutter or stammer. There is no mind game you can play, that'll leave me speechless. But, I'd be a lying if I said you didn't get to me in the slightest little way. I admit it... gather Miso, your b#tch Powers, a case of 'Heineken' to keep him still for about two seconds, and have them give you a round of applause."
[small]Sean sat up for a moment, turning his entire body in the direction of the camera. He's wearing a 100% cotton, "Planet Earth's Champion" t-shirt, blue jeans, and comfortable 'Nike' slippers.[/small]
"Don't get too excited, though, Pac... let me explain. You didn't get to me with what you said... you could never do that. Your vocabulary is too limited. Your knowledge of the game, and more importantly, of me and my personal life... isn't impressive in the least. Your mind games... mentioning Lucky... they're weak... Wicked Sight material, at best... perhaps I gave you too much credit. Why did I ask you to ask Eli Flair, Kevin Powers, and Randy Harders? It's really quite simple, stupid. You're the one wasting CSWA air time making claims about me and my career, sounding like nothing more than an idiot.
"In your eyes... I was weak and defenseless at Fish Fund. The world the way you see it, has me stuck in some sort of Eli Flair impression. But, that's not accurate, Gabriel. Your way isn't the only way. Your world isn't the real world. What is Triple X? It's three X's you dumb son- of- a- b#tch. What was your point in even asking that. Why on earth would you waste an entire promo trying to make a point you couldn't make?
"You're losing it, Poe. Or maybe you never had it in the first place. ...who knows... But, to answer one of your questions... Yes. ...yeah Triple X sells the same t- shirts, that ultimately put money in my pocket. So? Atleast I don't walk around with blue hair, tagging my girlfriend with silly little nicknames like the 'Dark Lotus', preaching to a choir who didn't bother to show up for choir practice."
[small]Stevens paused... apparently thinking... before beginning again.[/small]
"Atleast I don't have to regurgitate a Kevin Powers insult, just so I'll have something to talk about. And, excuse me for asking... but, what f#ck#ng stuff have you been smoking that has you believing that I am the one with everything to gain and nothing to lose? Gabriel... you're NOT important here anymore. Nobody gives a flying f#ck whether you come or go... leave or stay... get hit by a bus or a car.
"And, stop telling me MY history. I know it. I've lived it. In your mind you think it's getting you somewhere, and you're right... it is. It's getting you on my sh#tlist, and that's a place you can't afford to be. This isn't the HEW, Pac... nineteen ninety- nine came and went three years ago. I'm better than you in every way imagineable, and I'm not just talking.
"I don't need to ask Ivy, Flair, or Kendall Codine anything about you. You're not worth the energy. You're not in my league. You're a washed up hasbeen hanging on to what's left of your TIRED career by a death grip. But, I'm telling you this, Poe... keep talking... keep running your mouth... keep putting my personal business on public display... and, I'm gonna see to it that you lose that grip. This isn't a game. I'm not afraid of you, or any dark alley setting, lightning effects, or abandoned warehouse, you and your camera crew create to make you look... scary. I'm not afraid, first and foremost, because I have all confidence in my abilities... but, even if I didn't... I'd take my cue from that cameraman you threatened to make pay, if he showed you in the process of being pimped by your girl, only for him to show it anyway."
[small]Sean smirked.[/small]
"In Gainsville... Prepare to lose. Prepare to get beaten within an inch of your life. And, prepare to bow to the master, all in route to you finally bowing out for good. Because I'm making an example out of you. And, there aint a damned thing an entire army can do to stop me. ...let alone, little ol' you."
fade- to- black