No Nonsense

[EAho]

*** OOC - Sorry this took so long to get up. I didn't see Mayfield's spot until today when Katz brought it to my attention. ***

(FADE IN)

Evan Aho's gym in the basement of his house. Evan busies himself un-wrapping tape from his knuckles after a long workout.

AHO - If the "Reign of Eddie" is characterized by the same insecurites you try to cover with endless self-praise, then leave me out of the footnotes. You've made it loud and clear that you're the FUTURE of CSWA. But who are you trying to convince with all that noise?

I'll start you off with an affirmative, Eddie. You're right, it'll take more than "my seven fans" to intimidate you. Hell, the seven fans that follow my career are probably the same internet smarks who compiled the 'Best of Eddie Micspots' tape. In all likelihood, they're the guys that took the time to sift through your career on video to condense all the watchable match segments into a five-minute highlight film set to PEE-ARE-OH sound bytes and techno music. Their support is hardly something I'd ever need. Even so, I'm sure "all those people in the cheap seats" are enough to cancel out the advantage. The fans hang on someone who can talk a good game Eddie, like yourself.

But for every one of your cute one-liners, I've got three moves to pin you and two to make you tap. I don't do "piss-poor dropkicks", Eddie. I dropkick hard enough to leave you talking out of one side of your mouth... even when you're not holding a cigarette in your lips. Will I do whatever it takes to win this match? I won't need to, wrestling will be plenty satisfy that end.

Lots of PROFESSIONAL wrestlers say they'll do whatever it takes to win. "Whatever" is for the lazy and the desperate. I'm neither. I'm a wrestler and the only advantage I've got is that I take this match as seriously as any match I've ever had. In that respect Eddie, you might as well be Shamon. Because despite all the chest-thumping, collar-popping posturing that you've done, the only thing you are to me is next.

(FADE OUT)

 

[EastPrez]

On Notice

[updated:LAST EDITED ON Jul-04-02 AT 09:00 PM (EDT)](FADEIN: To 'Hot Property' EDDIE MAYFIELD, standing in the express line at a crowded supermarket somewhere in God-Knows-What City. He's holding a bag of Charcoal Briquets, a deli container of Cole Slaw and a few bags of ice. Black tee, downlow Hotproperty.com baseball cap, jeans.)

MAYFIELD: (Smiles, not looking at the camera, just ahead of him in line) "Smooth, Aho, 'Collar-popping posturing.' I'll have to use that one. Heh, it took you, what, a WEEK before you could climb off of your cloud to respond to my last promo, huh? And what I get from you is a segment shorter than a Pulp Fiction spot. Nice. Good to see where your head is at. Hold on, I got it, you're hunkered down in your mommas basement, lifting cinderblocks attached to a bar, grunting to your old C&C Music Factory tapes. Well, congrats, Aho, you're all hard work and dedication. Unlucky for you, that my 'insecurities' don't involve covering up a sloppy workrate. Check the stats, Dood - I'm not just out here puffing out my chest for no reason. You don't call yourself MUST-SEE TV for nothing. (Pauses, as the line shifts, and EDDIE moves up a spot) And NOTHING Eddie Mayfield does, is half-assed, except... well, possibly using my B+ material against you, Aho, because damn believe it if I don't think you deserve your spot right now.

See, The May Sweeps are over, and like it or not, Hot Property is in your face. You can cut a slice out of your almighty schedule of ingesting raw eggs and running barefoot in soft sand to grace me with a promo and act like Eddie Mayfield ain't a worry to your world if you wanna. Hell, you may actually believe that yourself... but don't get it f[BLEEEEEP!] twisted, spanky. I'm NOT Shamon. I'm NOT any of the other locker room cancers or snooze-alarm workers in the back that don't give you a sweat to your brow. I'm Eddie Mayfield, and Camel or no - 'witty banter' or no, I still come out there and get my check, and get more pops than the Planned Parenthood office. Do I really think that I'll walk out of this match with that belt on my waist? Come on, man. You and I both know that this league ain't ready to pay the censors off to let me run with the ball. I'm sure somebody from the 132nd Airborne will drop outta the sky to save your bacon from being embarrassed from the snot-nosed punk of the CSWA, the PEE-ARE-OH of this sinkhole, Bonnie Mayfield's only son, Eddie Em. And that's all good, man, because sooner or later, you'll be riding my collar-popping ass for a title shot, and maybe I'll grace YOU with a 10 second blow-off reply.

But know this, dood - I'm not that 'all bark no bite' cat. You say you can outwrestle me? Bring that sh[BLEEEP!] to me. I'll rock your ass with a 6-move chain sequence with a camel hanging outta my damned mouth. You're gonna make me tap? PLEASE, pal. You ain't dominating sh[BLEEP!] in any match where I'm across the ring from you. I didn't see you stunning the crowd in our tag match a few weeks ago, so don't come strutting out here like you're doing something. (Moves up again, and starts putting his stuff on the conveyor belt) I'll leave you with this, my man: Just having that belt ain't the end all, and even though it SHOULD make you the 'best there is', your just the 'dood with the belt' in my eyes. So you do ten reps with that, and shove your Technical Wizard attitude up your ass. Because in a few days, Eddie Mayfield is gonna show your ass up. BELIEVE THAT."

 

[EAho]

Special Treatment

(FADE IN)

Evan Aho is stretching out in his basement gym brushing sand off his feet amid a pile of cincer blocks. A glass filled with egg yolk is in his hand.

AHO - Have I ever asked for an opponent? No. I ask for a match; the other guy is a detail I don’t sweat. Have I ever declined a match? No. The guys that complain about not getting a shot never had the balls to demand one, face to face. But here you are Eddie…in my face.

To you, I’m just a hook for this big gold-plated strap. I won’t lose sleep over that. I’d rather get the doormat treatment. In fact, I’d consider it a blessing if all I had to sit through was ten seconds of promo. Please…don’t burn your B+ material on me, Eddie. Save your good stuff for Love, Melton and XXX or any of the other talkers out there. The smoke-show doesn’t impress me and it wouldn’t even if it were your A+ game.

It’s not that I don’t admire your work Eddie. That Best of Eddie Micspots tape has tracking problems from being replayed so much. But that’s not my M.O. and you know that as well as anyone. I’m not a tough guy to figure out. You had me pretty well pegged with the Vision Quest stereotype. What you heard wasn’t a blow-off. I’m looking forward to this match.

But Eddie Mayfield, you wanna be treated different. You want me to change up my game for you. Forget that. Right now what you see is what you get, same as the last guy…same as the next. You contend with that and maybe MAYBE, you’ll hold the big piece of tin at the end of the night.

But make no mistake, I’ll never ride you, or anyone, for a title shot. I don’t ask for title shots Eddie, I take them. The last time that opportunity came up, I took this too.

He holds up the belt.

Just like you said, this belt isn’t the bottom line on who’s the best. Right now it’s just coincidental.

(FADE OUT)

 

[EastPrez]

Adler-itis

[updated:LAST EDITED ON Jul-09-02 AT 10:57 AM (EDT)](FADEIN: To 'Hot Property' EDDIE MAYFIELD, same deal on as before, except now added this time is a bowling shirt that has the word 'Zartan' stitched in cursive on the heart. He stands in the front of a cigarette machine in the lobby of an iHOP, digging for change in his jeans-pockets.)

MAYFIELD: "Aho, man, jesus, if just throwing suplexes and boring the fans to tears with your painful, damn-near non existent microphone skills was all we needed to make the world go around, then yes indeed, I could shrivel up and blow away, content to let this garbage of a federation have a champion it truly deserves. (smiles) But see, my man, Aho, you sit down there in that bunker in your mommas basement, and you try ... you try and convince those idiots in the double-wide trailers that every guy they put in front of you is another day at the office, that you don't sweat anybody... but you lie, bro. Because you WILL sweat me.

Yassee, CSWA was a safe place in 2001 B.E. (Before Eddie) - You had idiots like STEVE RADDER(!?) strutting around this crap fed with the big gold, and then WOAH, big surprise, you take it off of him... I think. I didn't really watch this sh(BLEEP!) until they gave me a big contract, gave me my training manual and a stack of CSWA RF tapes to look over so I could get 'caught up' (Smirks). So in any event, if you beat him, or some freaking midget, I won't hate - Nice job, Aho. (Golf claps) My 10 year old nephew can probably work Radder through a 2/3 falls match and have Radder throwing up in the back afterwards, and Midgets don't count. No big deal. See, CSWA ain't popping to Eddie Mayfield. There's not ONE dood on this roster that makes me sh(BLEEEP!) my shorts. All of the... ahem, 'Main Eventers' ain't sh(BLEEEP!) here, and you can go tell 'em EYE said so. And lo and behold, that leads us to the flag-bearer of this rat's nest - YOU. Some monotone, uncharismatic bore who's method of dealing with The Greatest Show on Earth, The Cat's Meow, and yes, I know you've been waiting for it, 'MUST-SEE TV' Eddie Mayfield, is telling me that Im gonna get the same cat that the rest of those doods got. Well, here's the newsflash, Spanky: That ain't gonna wash this time. You can understand why I ain't impressed.

Hey, yunno, I'm helping YOU out. This is what the movie buffs call a 'Plot Point'. I foreshadow to something thats gonna tie in later on in the movie. So when I've come out here and told you that you better get the idea in your head that I'm not like the rest of these cats, thats' when YOU should get the hint. See, I'm not difficult to figure out, either, Aho. My agenda is simple: CSWA is boring and stale, and since the PROFESSIONALS showed up in this slimebucket, the air already smells fresher, Your girlfriend looks better, and your colors, whites and fine washables seem brighter. The fans are slowly starting to realize, (In a derogatory 'hick' voice) 'Hey, I've grown up in North Cackalacky for all these years with out of sorts, mis-shapen can't-talk wrestling misanthropes for heroes, and ... heh, move over bacon, there IS something meatier!' And that bacon has a first name, and it's E-D-D-I-E. (shakes head) Waitasecond, no one from North Carolina would ever use the word 'misanthrope' so I guess I have to take that whole thing back, huh? (smirks, as he puts some dollars into the machine and pulls for a box of Camels to come out)

I'm gonna digress, Aho, because frankly, I'm getting bored with you. I probably could have better conversations talking to this cigarette machine than the ones that we've shared lately, so I'll sum this up right here with this jewel: I'm glad that you keep my Best of Collection handy, but while you're checking those out, don't forget to look at the matches inbetween. Those are the ones where people who thought they knew me - well, (Shrugs) they ain't know me THAT well, and they figured that out when they woke up minutes later with a splitting headache, and 20 pounds of gold missing from their waists. And as you get Adleritis, and slowly start to spew out crap no one wants to hear, muddled down with mind-clearing nonsense promos about how no-nonsense you are, just remember that I TRIED, Evan Aho. I TRIED to help. And now it's too late for you. But there IS hope for the CSWA - and that would be... check this out to see how it sounds: (Puts hands out in front of his face, like he's picturing a marguee) EDDIE MAYFIELD... YOUR CSWA WORLD CHAMPION."

(FADEOUT as EDDIE smirks and walks off the shot)