Future Talk

[JABolich]

(FADEIN: Just a quick promo, so let's set this one in the dimly-lit study of the Sands Estate, its walls as always lined with shelf upon shelf of wrestling tapes, neatly sorted by wrestler name. CHRISTIAN SANDS sits behind the enormous desk, his hands folded before him. He wears a dark suit and tie and a pair of black shades, looking not unlike one of the agents out of the Matrix.)

Sands: There seems to be a problem in this company.

At ON TIME, I did what the monkeys in the front office asked of me and more. I stepped into the ring against the twit they threw me up against and utterly embarrassed him. I even took it upon myself to provide concrete proof that not a single man on that program was in my league. Apparently, however, incompetence is something that's rewarded around here.

I've come to understand exactly how things work in this neck of the woods. It all stems from the old fogeys. The same old guys who were ruling the roost ten or fifteen years ago are sitting pretty in their spots, secure in the knowledge that they've got the front office in their pockets. The old guys use their influence to ensure that anyone who might threaten their spot never sees the light of day, while the folks who flat-out suck are given an easy ride because they're no threat to the top dogs. It's a vicious cycle of control by which the old blood keeps the new under its thumb.

No more. Here's a message for the old guard. Grab your shovels. Bury me as deep as you want, but I will NEVER, EVER go away. I'll always be here to show the world that the new blood in this business is better. Eventually you won't be able to stop me. The people will grow to realize that I'm the future of this company. Once the yokel fans realize it, the front office will have no choice but to follow suit. And once that happens none of you will be able to stop me from smashing through the so-called glass ceiling.

A revolution is building, gentlemen - a revolution of the new blood. Try and stop us. Try and stop ME. But in the end, your little political games won't mean a thing, because the rise of new stars is inevitable.

I am the future of wrestling. No amount of political chicanery will change the fact that I am the man to lead wrestling into the next boom period. And when I do rise to claim the glory that is rightfully mine, I'm bringing plenty of new blood with me.

This... is the revolution of the new.

(FADEOUT)

 

[Mittens]

A T.V. set. Dimly lit living room. Pink couch. Mittens T. Cat.

The promo played on the T.V. set aforementioned, and as soon as it finished, Mittens wasted no time.

Mittens: Blahblahblah, yaddayaddayadda. Revolution this, new blood that.

I've got a question. New blood, old blood, warm blood, cold blood (Author's Note: HA~!)-- who gives a monkey? I mean, honestly, I could make a three minute promo of me taking a crap and people would be more entertained than that promo, that was chock full of analogies and homosexuality. The fact is, you big fat piece of CRAP with little green speckles and nutty pieces stuck inside it, swirling around in a big porter potty, is that you don't have the ability to be a leader. You can't lead the 'new blood', as it were... hell, you couldn't even lead yourself into a battle with the likes of some of these gents. Who are you trying to fool? Who are you speaking for?

Because, as part of the new blood, you sure aren't speaking for me. As a matter of fact, if there were to be a revolution, *I* would be the one to lead it. *I* would be the one those douches at the top of the CSWA would be worried about.

Why? Why me?

BECAUSE I'M THE HARDKORPUZZAY~! GOD(bleep!)! I AM FEARED, I AM CALLOUSED, AND MOST IMPORTANTLY, IT DOESN'T MATTER IF IT'S YOU, CHRISTIAN SANDS, SUICIDE, AUTUMN OR BEAVER CLEAVER....

I'll win against you.

Not only that, I'll carry you through the match of your lives.

*Mittens gives a big pelvic thrust right into the camera, knocking it off. The giant cat furry drops to the ground, looks into it, and begins barking... yes, like a dog, in hopes of intimidation.*

Mittens: ROO ROO! GRRRRRRROO~! ROO ROO! ROO ROO, ROO, ROO ROO ROO, ROO ROO, ROO, ROO, ROO ROO!

*The camera sighs, yes, it sighs, and fades to black.*

 

[JABolich]

(FADEIN)

Sands: ...This from a five-year-old in a fuzzy pink cat suit.

Hey, Merritt. I think your fed just jumped the shark.

(FADEOUT)

 

[CuseTroy]

FADE IN...

Troy Douglas stands in front of a CSWA backdrop. His demeanor seems a more lightehearted, instead of his usual calm intensity.

DOUGLAS:

Christian, as you well know, the two of us don't exactly see eye to eye. You think I'm a boring has-been who cries and walks away from the sport after a bump on the knee. I think you're an egotistical bastard who doesn't give a damn about the consequences of his actions, vis a vis your interactions with Lindsay Troy in Empire Pro.

However...

We do seem to agree on one issue.

While yes, it's been admitted time and time again that I am a lifelong CSWA fan, and YES, I did pay tribute to this organization's fine heritage in my match in Charlotte, I didn't just come here to ogle at history.

I came here to make a difference. I'm in the CSWA to craft my own legend and put it up their with the stars of the last decade and a half. We're going to the same place, Sands, and while we may not agree on the best way to get their, in the end, the goal is identical.

You want to make your play for the top, you'll see me every step of the way, looking right back at you. With politics in or out of the picture, it's evident a new day is coming from the venerable old fed from Greensboro. I plan to be a part of that.

Revolution of the new? Maybe, maybe not. I don't want you as my ally, you don't want me as yours. But, like it or not, we're in this together.

As they say, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. And my enemy is ANYONE who wants to try and keep pushing me back down. No more "injury timeouts", no more "time for healing". The road to the top starts now. Get on now, or the chance may be lost.

I'll see y'all at the end of the road.

...FADE OUT

 

[Chad]

(FADEIN)

Sands: ...This from a five-year-old in a fuzzy pink cat suit.

Hey, Merritt. I think your fed just jumped the shark.

(FADEOUT)

You obviously haven't done your homework, Christian. Between midgets the infamous Wheelbarrow of Justice, we made Fonzie's jump over a shark look like child's play.

-Merritt

 

[JABolich]

Wheelbarrow of Justice?

Don't even tell me, because I really, REALLY don't want to know.

~Sands

 

[QueenOfTheRing]

we made Fonzie's jump over a shark look like child's play.

-Merritt

I didn't know Melton was that nimble.

-LT

PS: I'm fully aware that I just set myself up real good...

 

[EastPrez]

(FADEIN)

Sands: ...This from a five-year-old in a fuzzy pink cat suit.

Hey, Merritt. I think your fed just jumped the shark.

(FADEOUT)

OOC:

LOL

 

[Mittens]

OOC:

 

[JABolich]

OOC:

(scratches behind the Puzzay's ears)

Awwww, poor kitty.

 

[TSiegel]

OOC: Looks over at Jeff, and just about doubles over, LMFAO.