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[SSXI] Dan Ryan vs. Doc Silver

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CuseTroy

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TEAM Invitational Tournament Semifinal

Dan Ryan (West Region Champion)

vs.

Doc Silver (East Region Champion)

RP Deadline: Aug. 24, 2009 at 11:59:59 p.m.
 

The Great Eye

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(FADEIN: Doc Silver sitting in the locker room after his crushing victory over Duke Williams. Doc is wearing his 'ring gear' if one could call the "Shirley kneeling over the star" T-Shirt and his standard sweatpants as ring gear. On his head he wears a "TiT Final Four" cap. He takes the cap off as he begins to speak.)

DOC: They didn't give these out...(Points at the hat) Found that rather tragic, I so have wanted to win a match and get a hat and a T-Shirt like the team sports do...So I had one made up for me. But the T-Shirt...Well I can't break gimmick...

Dan Ryan...Don't think we've met before...I'm Doc Silver...(Smiles)

You've won world titles...Yeah, in leagues that are scared to death of me...You're a champion of places that have feared little old me...So really I can't respect that...Even if by rights one of those places I should be signing the checks...

Look Dan, this is the truth here, of course you've toured the world and dominated everyone, of course you've held every belt you've deigned to put in even the least of effort for...Because you're a genetic freak, you're a monster out of bedtime stories...Every promoter in this industry looks at you and dreams only that you would Humility Bomb their current champion into a coma and leave them for dead...

Me...You know who I was...Oh it was a long time ago, but I was just another forgotten face in the crowd...Just another generic bum...All of the Doc Silver empire was earned through FORCE OF WILL...I didn't win a genetic lottery...I'm nothing special to look at...No, I fought, kicked, and beat my way to the top of the mountain, and when I got there I still wasn't happy with it...No, I wasn't happy playing the role of your archtypical heel champion...I wasn't going to be run of the mill even as a main eventer...

So I risked everything in a remake...What the smarks would call a repackaging...And I become the Slumlord, or as you would know me...Garbage Doc...And I do encourage you and everyone else...To pour your misery down on me...

You see, I kneel before nobody, I bow to no man...Oh I've had my issues, I've dealt with drama, but I do it on MY terms and by MY rules...I don't tolerate fools and I won't abide by stupidity...I call a spade a spade...And people say I'm offensive, that I expose the business...No...I speak truth...

The truth of us Dan is that you've had it to easy for to long...Your run in this tournament is based off people defering to you and fearing you...

I'm gonna slap you in the face...I'm going to fight you tooth and nail...I'm going to do what I do better then anyone on the face of this earth...

Endure...

I'm going to take a beating, a horrific beating at that, I'm going to wake up sore for days afterwards, I'm going to ache, I'm going to suffer, but I don't care, because I have the will to survive you, and the move to break you...I'll catch you, be it 15 minutes in, 30 minutes in...45 minutes in, the opening will reveal itself, and I need but one shot...One split second of an opportunity and I'll get you hooked up and spike your chin off my shoulder...I'll put you down...and I'll go to the finals...

I think after the press slams and big foots and everything else you've done to throw me around like a ragdoll...After you've looked down on my blood stained face for the 100th time...You'll finally say it's over...You'll bring the crowd to it's feet...And then up I'll go...The vaunted, the mighty Humility Bomb...And you will stick me like a tack...You'll make the cover, maybe you'll think to hook a leg...1...(Doc holds up a finger) 2 (Another finger)...No...

The deafening silence of that moment...It is something that has haunted so many of opponents...That's when it sinks in...You can't break me, you can't stop me...I WILL NOT BE DENIED...And then you have to question yourself, you have to ask yourself if you really have what it takes to do this, is that fire still in your belly to pretty much kill a man to get a victory...Cause you're going to have to hit me with the kitchen sink, you're going to have to empty out the whole stockpile, reload, and blast me with it all over again...

Because I want this...And I know you *think* you want this...But really Dan, there will come a point where you find you will *know* can't keep me down...You can't finish me off, you can't make this son of a b*tch stay down...Maybe a decade ago you would have had the fire in your belly to find that one more move...Maybe back when you still needed to prove yourself in the eyes of the world, you would have done what it took to win...Now?...Now you'll look at the ref as he holds up those two fingers, and you'll think to yourself "Man...I am to old and to rich for this sh*t"...That really when the chips are down, you don't have the drive, the guts, the will to push through it all and get the job done...

Me...I got nothing else Dan...This is my end...I was supposed to go out with a blaze of glory against Felix Red, but that story will be untold...Alas, one door closes, one opens, a tournament I entered on a lark is now my final battleground...I've already made the final four...I'm already standing with legends like you and Nova, and the rising star Impulse looking to make a name for myself...I'm happy Dan...It's not even raining and I'm happy (Smiles...) but I'm not content...No, to retire winning this...That would be big...And to get there...I gotta beat you...So I will...

See, this match, is going to be hell, I'm going to drag you down into my world, my playground of suffering and agony...Of pain and misery...And to destroy me, you have to beat me at my own game...That's what it's always been about, my will, imposed on my opponent...And I break them...

Because in reality Dan...You know why I'm here...You know what I'm gonna do...

I came to cut you up

I came to drag you down

I came around to tear your little world apart...

And break your soul...Apart...

And that will be you Dan...You'll be left with the legend of your career...But what good is that legend...When you're still one of the countless many walking the endless path of misery...

Only Happy When it Rains...

(FADEOUT)
 

DBrunkGXW

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FADE IN….

A wall somewhere in Texas…

There are title belts all over it behind glass, each one save two with a large red “X” over them. Dan Ryan is standing in front of them and pulls out a red marker. With a long stroke in each direction he draws a huge letter X over the NAPW World Title. Left alone in the center is the CSWA UNIFIED World Heavyweight Title. Ryan gives it a quick glance then turns and sits in a makeshift lounge-ish area to the right of the wall. This used to be a game room, a trophy room.


Ryan: “One more down.”

“Last night I dropped the NAPW World Title. When I announced my soon to be retirement I held it alongside the NFW World Title, the A1E World Title and the CSWA UNIFIED World Title. I’m a man of my word, so I like to fulfill my obligations the right way. It’s taken a little longer to lose those belts than I had hoped. Been a few years and there’s still one left. I may never lose that one.”

“Doc, there’s an element of black and white in you. There has to be tragedy to go along with moving into the next stage of your life or it just isn’t worth hearing about is it? I have to lose my edge, my desire and will to win. I have to mentally pack it in to retire. I have to be a shell of my former self. It’s one or the other. You either stay in the game, have your heart and soul in it 100% or you move on because you don’t.”

“I’ll get back to that.”

“First of all, we actually have met before. We’ve never had a match, but we’ve certainly met considering we shared a locker room in NFW for quite some time. You were the NFW World Champ. I was the NFW World Champ. Seems you’d remember that. I won’t patronize you despite the fact that you talk to me like some sort of eager beaver caricature that doesn’t live in the real world. And hey, if you wanted a final four hat, you could’ve borrowed one of mine. I’ve done this a few times.”

“The ‘leagues that are scared to death of me’ line is a solid one, Doc. How else to attack someone who’s done as much as we have, eh? The old ‘all the cool stuff I did is cooler than all the cool stuff you did’ routine. Doesn’t matter much if you respect it, Doc. It still happened. Nobody else is really doing it, so it must mean somethin’ to somebody. And I have signed checks, Doc. Still do, just for the record.”

“But the black and white way of looking at the world, Doc – I think it’s beneath you. At least, I think it should be beneath you. I don’t put out the effort, I’m just a genetic freak, I get by on natural gifts only and so on and so on. Well hey, Doc. I dunno, but the countless days on the road, in the gym training and years and years working underneath as a teenager in Japan just to earn a shot at making the move to North America and sniffing the big time – I dunno, it just always seemed to mean a little bit more than that to me. You worked hard. You’re a scrawny little turd who wasn’t handed anything and that’s your argument for why you’re better than me, eh Doc? Never mind that a moral stand from you is pretty friggin’ hilarious to begin with. But I’m a genetic freak and I’ve worked my ass off. You used to be a generic bum. Well hey man – I’ve never been a generic bum. Through blood, sweat and hard work in addition to a few athletic gifts I’ve always been pretty damn good. You created an image. I created a life for myself. I’ve never been meant to do anything other than be the best at what I do. And yeah – I know a lot of people say that. But no one goes out on a consistent basis…no matter where they go…and proves it every night in every corner of the wrestling universe like me. Well…but only the ones that are scared of you, right?”

“You remade yourself successfully. Congratulations. Someone slapped a label on me my first year. They said ‘we’re gonna call you The Ego Buster’. Fine. So I go kill some people, start raking in the money and decide I don’t care for being a puppet. That was about six months in. How long did it take you, Doc? I’m really just curious. I’ve only ever been myself from that point until now. That was twelve years ago. And it was just a name change really. I never lived a gimmick. You know why?”

“Gimmicks are dumb.”

“No Dan!! Gimmicks are fun!! Gimmicks move merchandise!! Gimmicks give the fans something to cheer for or something to boo!!”

“Yeah. They really are dumb.”

“My gimmick has always been that I have a big mouth that I back up in the ring. That’s always been the deal. If the gimmicks could beat me, they would have. They usually don’t. So who gives a s**t what you repackaged yourself as? Garbage Doc? Okay. What is that, your catch-word for ‘hardcore’ wrestling? Nope. It means you’ll hit me with whatever you find, wear some jeans and a Garbage t-shirt and keep a photo of Shirley Manson tucked inside the front of your tights for good luck. Gimmicks are dumb, Doc. And yours is among the dumbest of them all.”

“And I love how you fall back into the ‘I’m gonna beat you up no matter what you do because I am the bestest that ever lived and can take Man-Hulk punishment and come back from it ohmygoddoubleuteeeff!’. You’ve got a fantastic bit of strategy for the match itself.”

“I’m gonna beat you like a dog for hours, days, years. I’m gonna drag your carcass up and down the Eastern Seaboard, through the Appalachians, across the Great Lakes and into the Canadian Rockies, whereby I will then move South, occasionally suplexing you through truck stop signs and across chasms and mountain passes, leap off of each letter in the Hollywood sign to drop knees across your skull, pull you up only to take the midnight train over to Arizona so I can hit my patented Grand Canyon running powerslam down into the Colorado River below, run you through New Mexico into West Texas and parade your little six foot nothin’, two hundred twenty-nothin’ pound ass down Interstate 10 straight into my home town where a cheering throng will watch as I Humility Bomb you right onto the roof of the old Astrodome, cover you after this epic decade long beatdown during which you didn’t get one single move in – and BAM! Shock goes the world as Doc Silver kicks out, Dan Ryan gets his ‘OH NO YOU DID NOT JUST HULK UP ON ME’ face glaze and it’s wham, stunner and a three count for Doc Silver.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t finish you off.”

“I can’t possibly, not in a million, trillion, zillion years finish Doc Silver.”

“When you pop up and prepare me for that Aces Full, that stunner from the depths of eternity…in that moment I will know…yes, according to you I will know…I can’t break you. I can’t stop you. BY GAWD!!! YOU WILL NOT BE DENIED!!!

“Motherf**ker, what the hell kinda f**ked up crack are you on?? Huh?? Who in the hell do you think you’re talkin’ to? I don’t have the fire in my belly?? I’m too old and too rich for this s**t? You have the nerve to put your perceptions of my thoughts into your stupid little promo when you say s**t like you lost your *******ed mind??”

“Really, Doc???”

“Man I can truly say I’ve seen some s**t when I can say that Doc mother**kin’ Silver is sittin’ his midget ass right there in front of God and everyone else tellin’ me that I don’t have the drive or the guts anymore. Doc Silver, in his forties, broken half in two from a lifetime of professional wrestling, joining tournaments ‘on a lark’, just because they’re there, openly talking about how you wanna go out…tellin’ me some s**t.”

“Brother, I don’t know who the hell you’ve been talkin’ to but they told you wrong. DEAD WRONG. Nah man. If I beat you damn near senseless for thirty minutes, you’ll go down and you’ll damn sure stay down. I guarantee you that. Tellin’ me I don’t know how to close the deal isn’t just ridiculous based on empirical evidence, it’s bordering on criminally stupid.”

“You’re so ridiculous. You have to work so hard searching for words to fit your stupid little gimmick that you forget to make any *******ed sense. And you wanna act like I’m gonna be honored to meet your stupid ass. Like ‘oh, I’m Doc Silver. We haven’t met’.”

“Idiot.”

“You’re the one that’s been runnin’ your mouth to everyone that’ll listen about how much you want this match. You’re the one chewin’ your fingernails damn near off at the thought that somethin’ would derail this match from happening. I’m not tellin’ people how Doc Silver is my dream matchup. I’m not sittin’ here with a list of people that I simply MUST face before I die with Doc Silver sittin’ up top. You’re there in your stupid little shirt working your oh so eloquent soliliquoy around long enough to work to your ‘only happy when it rains’ catchphrase, and you think some generic two bit ‘I’ma gonna let you beat me for a while, a-then I’ll never give up! Never surrender!! and break you apart Dan Ryan! I’ll cut you up! I’ll drag you down!! I will BREAK YOUR SOUL APART!!’ nonsense is gonna do the trick????"

“Break…my soul apart???”

“This is a wrestling match, Doc. Come back to planet Earth. You’re an over the hill used to be great wrestler tied up in fantasyland with delusions of grandeur and I am one of the baddest mother**kers on the planet. Bottom line. I’m not old. I’m not washed up. I’m in my prime, man. I’m gonna leave….whenever I leave…on my own. No nagging injuries. Not draggin my crippled ass down to the urgent care center on Saturdays because the joints are actin’ up and I can’t even push the *******ed lawnmower. I’m going because I feel like it. You ain’t tearin’ S**T apart, Doc. Not S**T.”

“So you’ll get your dream. You can have your match where you get to see just how you stand up to the hype. You get to find out why the hype exists in the first place, why I walk into companies and win EVERY-DAMN-WHERE I GO – not because people defer to me, not because they cower in my presence, but because I go in and make it happen. I don’t hide behind ‘ooooh, they’re scared of me’ and slink away to rub some more Aspercreme on my ass.”

“You can come to the arena, prepare yourself every damn way you have to. Put on the Neptunes remix of Androgyny, just cuz it feels like a ‘Special Collection’ kinda night. I don’t care what you do, Doc.”

“But you ain’t livin’ your dream out on me, buddy. Not this year, not any year – not unless they release a ‘legends of FW’ patch for Smackdown vs. Raw – because that’s the only way – THE ONLY WAY…anything even remotely resembling your scenario will ever have a chance to happen.”

"I haven't lost my will. I haven't lost my drive, and I won't ever lose my passion for this business, sir. And I have never been the little douchebag you described in your waking dream that lays around on the mat for three seconds after your pitiful little stunner."

“I ain’t just Cameron Cruise in a muscle suit, Doc.”

“I am exactly who you’ve heard I am. So hey….”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

"Now man up - or get the f**k outta here..."

FADE OUT…
 
Last edited:

The Great Eye

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(FADEIN: Doc Silver, this time with the Garbage V2.0 "Scream" T-Shirt on, looking at the camera. "Androgyny" (Neptune's Remix) plays in the background.)

DOC: I hadn't heard this before, so I thank you for bringing it to my attention...But it's really not...I dunno...Garbage like...Normally the Neptunes bring it...But this time...Not really feeling it...But don't let that get you down Dan, you find any other remixes to bring to my attention, I'll be sure to get on that.

But Dan, come on man...(Doc tugs on his sweat pants) These are sweatpants, I haven't worn jeans ever...I mean, you were really selling my gimmick for a while there and then you had to go and blow it with a comment like that...The East German judge is gonna really be harsh about that one...

And if I say anything stupid like "Break your soul apart" that's a lyric Dan...I'll keep saying things like that...Because it's my gimmick...My DUMB gimmick....

See you don't get it, because you can't...Of course a gimmick is stupid when you're friggin' Dan Ryan...When you're able to just charge into the ring and Donkey Kong your opponents into a bloody smear on the mat. The crowd is always going to pay good money to see some giant gorilla maul some hapless idiot...

Me...I had a gimmick the moment I made the big time...Doc isn't my legal first name, I'll let you in on that little secret...But you see Dan, what good was being "Generic Rich a$$hole" ...You know...I was in some Survivor Series styled match...And two of my partners were also named "Doctor"...There was also "The Mad Doctor" around back then...When there's about 55 different idiots calling themselves a doctor...So maybe taking the road less traveled was the winning play on my part...

Look...I did what I did to get where I got...You think it's stupid, I think you're boring...I look at guys like you and think anyone could have played that party, any HGH fueled bouncer at a nightclub could have been "The Ego Buster"...Any goon who spent to much time pumping iron could have been Dan Ryan...

You're nothing special here

A fake behind the fear

The queerest of the queer...

And yeah Dan, those were lyrics...And no, I don't think you're gay...

Now I never really thought I'd wind my career down with a dick measuring contest with another man who honestly has all the glory and titles to make a run at me. I never thought I'd have the honor of fighting somebody who's got the same friggin' laundry list of titles, scalps and honors as myself. And now we're b*tching and yelling about will, drive, desire, because that's really the only question anyone could ever have about either one of us, isn't it Dan?

I mean really, the only question anyone could ask about you or me is...Do they still want it? Do they still have the nerve? The talent can't be questioned the legacy we've both set down can't be denied, but in the end, it comes to drive...

And that brings us back, to your whipping boy...The dear sweet Cameron Cruise...It's so funny we both sit here degrading a man who's currently A1E World Champion...I don't got any belts around my waist...By what you've said, you don't either...So I guess Cruise as a World Champion is a joke...A sign of a failed...Dying company...

I'm sure you had great memories of A1E...That it was a great place...But I also remember that you had the chance to KILL it...To turn off the lights, void the contracts, send everyone packing...To end that abomination before it got out of control...But no...No, Dan Ryan had his heart grow three sizes...You had to let all the Whos in Whoville have their Christmas...Dan Ryan had to let Big Dog have his bone, had to let the abomination that is A1E continue to exist...And now...Now the cancer ravaging that company's body is beyond terminal...With that Baseball Sized Tumor called Cameron Cruise holding the big belt.

You couldn't do it...Old Yeller was rabid and mad, and you couldn't pull the trigger and put him down...Maybe that's what will happen here Dan...Maybe you'll have me half dead in that ring, maybe you'll call for the Humility Bomb and drive the thousands in that arena to their feet, and when you go to pick me up, I'll just give you the puppy dog eyes...Do a little pleading about how this wasn't how my career was supposed to end...Ask you to find the mercy in your heart one more time...And then I'll roll you up, and well...You'll decide it's better for me to win...

That's the difference between us Dan, I know what I want, I finish what I start...You only THINK you know what you want...

You don't want the hell I'm going to bring to you...You don't really want to to win this...I do...

And that's why I'll be in the finals...And you'll be left walking the endless path of misery...and that ISN'T a lyric...But this is...

Only Happy When It Rains...

(FADEOUT)
 

DBrunkGXW

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FADE IN…..

Katy Mills Mall - Katy, TX…

Dan Ryan is sitting in a small booth inside "Moe's" having something to drink. Faces are plastered up against the glass as various fanboy types in the mall proper press up to get a glimpse. The corner where Ryan is sitting is roped off a few booths a way, keeping the patrons inside back. A large hulking man, as big as Ryan himself stands guard.


Ryan: "You're right, Doc. 'Androgyny' sucks - and not just the remix."

"Doc…."

(sigh)

"I know your little lines are just lyrics. I know you have the little sweatpants on. It's called parody on the first account and characterization of every clone just like you on the second. But yes, I absolutely expect you to keep saying it. It is indeed…your dumb gimmick."

"I imagine I can expect a stupid comedy skit next."

"But you still can't even watch a friggin' match properly. You can't even catch one or read one article or know anything whatsoever about me if you think I just jump in the ring and club people to death. I'm a dime a dozen, right Doc? Just a big guy who bullies his way forward and beats people to death. That's interesting."

"I dunno, Doc. I've always kinda been a counterpuncher. And I've always kinda been known as a bit of wrestler too, ya know. Not so much a street brawler unless I have to be, although yes…I can do that. But I beat Larry Tact by reversing him into a Dragon Suplex before I even went for the big neck drop. Tact was out cold before I even went for the finish, but the aesthetic of a big guy like me dumping a guy on his neck is so much more pleasing than simply hooking him, flipping him backwards and over into a pinning bridge and holding it for the three count. But yeah, I've held that for the pin on more than one occasion, too. There's the submission wins, all that good stuff. But admit it - don't you like the neck drop just a little bit more for impact? I mean hey, everyone and their mother does the powerbomb these days. But how many are three hundred pounds and drive them vertically straight down on the back of their neck? Hmm?"

"Well maybe it wouldn't impress you, Doc. After all, it'll be right before your epic kickout."

"That's the difference between me, though….and that big guy keeping the fans back over there."

"Skill."

"Not just a big dope with muscles and a needle. Not just a strong guy hitting people til they die. I'm a wrestler, Doc. I know you're not really all into that. I know it's just a fun little side thing on the real life of the man who would be Doc Silver. It's not your real name? No kidding. Never would've guess that one, Doc. Doc being such a common given name and all, and the sheer number of 'Silver's born in the greater Las Vegas area, I had you pegged as the real deal, Doc. I never woulda pegged that as a fakery. Here I was ready to launch into my jokes about Grandpappy and Great Grandpappy Silver in the old West, protecting the bustling gold specked boomtown from the lawlessness of the evil Ryan family, headed by Buford "Mad Dog" Ryan back in 1885." (Michael J. Fox's head pops in from the side of the screen and screams "1885!!!". Ryan looks at him oddly as he disappears again.)

"Well the Doc Silver we see in front of us all the time may not be the real deal, Doc - but I'm only what you see. I was born with this name, I was born into the wrestling business and it's all I've ever wanted to be. I'm a big guy, I can still wrestle circles around you, I talk the talk…and then I go take care of business."

"I do get it."

"What the hell can you say to me, Doc? Not much really. Like you said, I've got the laundry list of titles, the honors, the track record. It ends up being two guys screaming at a wall. Then again, I'm not the one who started things off by painting myself as the idiot who thinks he's gonna take everything I got then finish me off with one shot. That was you. I was perfectly willing to be respectful, Doc. But I don't respect stupid. And that's what all that dumb s**t you said in that first bit was. Stupid."

"So let's talk about A1E, since you brought it up." (Smile) I like this topic because people bring it up all the time. This is what they use to show that I don't know how to close the deal. Or I can't close the deal. Or I've gone soft. That's what you're hanging your 'you don't have the drive anymore' hat on."

"There are very few similarities between that situation and this one. For one, that situation was more about being spread too thin than drive. I was working six different territories at that time, all of which I'm sure were afraid of you, and it was….you know….starting to get to me a little bit. You try defend the NFW, A1E, NAPW and CSWA UNIFIED Titles at one time. Well, I only actually defended the CSWA a few times….still, it was stressful. You get to a point where you wonder, what am I doing this for exactly? What was my beef?? You're right, I had the company in my hand with no one left to stop me from squeezing."

"At the same time, it was never about A1E as a company. It was never about the people who really cared about the place, not about Duchess or Big Dog or Andrew Gilkison or Cross. Not about Housefly or Chip Friendly or any of those guys. It was about a personal vendetta between Marcus Westcott and I. I identified A1E as the one thing he truly cared about. So I squeezed. But in the end, personal vendettas don't really get you anywhere. In my case, the collateral damage became unacceptable to me. More people that had nothing to do with my issue with Westcott were getting hurt and in the end, it turned out he wasn't all that loyal to A1E anyway. The one person I really gave a damn about in that place, the one person I considered a friend there…was gonna be hurt most of all. A friend who has lived and bled for that company. It doesn't matter what it meant to me, Doc. It doesn't matter what my memories were or what you think about it. To a close friend of mine, it was his heart and soul - and that mattered to me. So in the end, yes. I stopped the wrecking ball. I shut down the plan to crush that place for good and I walked away on my own power with my family in tow - and I left the place to the people who it meant the most to. What they did with it after I left is none of my concern. I'm nobody's babysitter and I'm responsible for nothing. If anybody doesn't like Cameron Cruise as the World Champion? If they don't think he deserves it? Well hell - maybe they should shut the f**k up and go take it from him then. Lots of big words, little action. Paper threats behind the comfort of empty insults and threats."

"Then there's you - you and your puppy dog eyes. See, with you Doc? I don't give a s**t about you. There's not much chance of me doing anything in that situation with you except putting my boot to your face. I don't really care how your career ends, because by the looks of things and by the way you talk to me with your stupid ass lyrics and dedication to a lead singer who isn't even that hot, your career ended a long time ago. You're just the male version of Pamela Des Barres now. Nothin' but a sad broken down groupie that people only look at for the curiosity factor."

"As much as it's raining right now, Doc - you're happy as hell, I'm sure. It's all flowers and pretty colors and smells for you over there in the little world you live in, where Doc Silver overcomes all in the end, rides off a hero and Dan Ryan gives a s**t about you or your career. Everyone's waiting in the arena for your triumphant entrance, you ride up and throngs press up to get just a peek…."Is it really true? Can this really be happening? Is he really going to take us on a magical tournament winning ride again? OMFG WE ARE SO LUCKY!!! TEAM is SAVED!!! Doc Silver is made of cinnamon, butter, pecans and magic!! Bow your heads to the greatness!! WHEN IS ESPN GONNA STOP WITH ALL THAT BRETT FAVRE S**T AND GET ON THIS STORY?!?!"

"Yeah."

"Good luck with it all, Doc. You're myopic as a motherf**ker. I have more drive at half strength than you've got tucked away in every fiber of your being, the real one and the gimmick. Have fun at the finals, Doc."

"But move quick. Getting tickets this late can be murder."

FADE OUT….
 

The Great Eye

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0
(FADEIN: Doc Silver sitting in front of a TEAM banner, same get up as before.)

DOC: Really Dan...This is what we have between us...It's not a whole hell of a lot is it? I listen to Impulse and Nova, and you and I...I hear echos...You ever look at one of those word graph things they do for politics? America, Change, Jobs, Taxes, War, Hope, all that stuff is always there, it's universals really Dan...We're trying to make each other, and ourselves...Believe the sh*t we're saying...

You look at me as a stupid gimmick and a bumbling fool...I look at you as the product of some lucky genetics and hype...We're tearing each other down whenever one of us can't work out a great zinger for Cameron Cruise...I, to my great regret at this moment, lost to Duchess, denying me my greatest of all weapons against you...

Look Dan, I know how this works, as do you, but the truth is, you're an aura, you're fearsome...You inspire terror...You win 75% of your matches before you even get in that ring because you're Dan "F*cking" Ryan...People get themselves worked up over you, they sweat bullets over you...Wake up and night and puke about the fact that they have to go to the arena and face such a daunting task as fighting the legendary "Ego Buster"...

For me...This is Tuesday...

I've beaten bigger then you and I've sure as hell beaten better then you...Randalls, Hornet, Alder, Manson, Southern...It's like Wilmer Valderrama checking off his list of A-List Hollywood Trim he needs to get his hands on...And as sure he is working the Fez magic on Meagan Fox...I'll be putting you down and adding your name to my list of victims...

Now this was gonna be a light, funny romp, but well, as you touched upon it at the end of your promo...Brett Favre is back...And that's ruined everything...

(CUTTO: A webcam, we see Greenie with a headset on while typing away at the computer, in the lower left hand corner of the screen is a time stamp reading 08/18/09 12:55 PM)


GREENIE: (Greenie starts typing.) Time to check on the World Wide Leader...Maybe the Pats got Oakland to trade the rest of their team to them...

(A beat passes...Greenie is catatonic...After a few more seconds he gets up and then lays down on the ground.)

(CUTTO: Doc, now standing in a hallway with Greenie's wife, Jen, an open door is behind them)

JEN: He hasn't talked since he heard about Favre...He just lays there...(Points inside the room to the unmoving Greenie)

DOC: Is he dead?

JEN: No...I can see him breathing...I tried to talk to him but he didn't react...Look, you know how much I hate wrestling, and I think you're an enabling piece of sh*t for the money you give him, but well...Talk to him, get him out of this...

DOC: It's Favre...It's going to be hard..

(Doc walks into the room and kneels down besides Greenie)

DOC: 10,000 dollars free and clear for you to gamble with for the NFL...You lose it, I don't care...

(No reaction)

DOC: Wow...He's gone...Tom Brady's gay and Bill Belichick films him being drilled by other gay guys...

(No reaction)

DOC: Damn I'm out of ammo here...David Tyree? Eli? The fact that Belichick stupidly refused to kick a 48 yard field goal in a dome with the score 7-3 and the Giants defense treating Matt Light and company like human turnstiles?

(No reaction)

(Doc shakes his head and gets up, he walks over to Jen)

DOC: He's gone...I'm sorry...

JEN: Did you bring up the field goal? He gets so angry over the fact that they didn't kick that field goal...

DOC: Yeah...Nothing...

JEN: Oh God he's gone! (Jen buries her head into Doc's shoulder and begins weeping.) YOU PIECE OF SH*T BRETT FAVRE...GIVE ME BACK MY HUSBAND...

(CUTTO: Doc now back at the TEAM banner.)

DOC: So yeah, Brett Favre...Kind of a sore subject...But anyhow Dan, I don't give a damn what your excuse for letting A1E live was...When GUNS and I were running the jWo, we just closed companies down, we buried everyone had all the talent join us, then turned out the lights and called it a day...We bankrupted promoters, send the staff to the unemployment line and did it all with a smile on our face and a spring in our step...And you know why?

BECAUSE WE COULD...

Mercy is a deeply overrated concept and it's one I sure as hell won't be applying to you...You've half assed a ton of sh*t in your life just believing people would just concede defeat to your greatness...I am not one of them, I defy you...I spit in your eye Dan...Cause I'm just that kind of a guy...I'm here to see if you REALLY have it anymore or not...You get past me, you make it to the finals...You're going to EARN it...This is what I said before...The universals, the things that never change...This is MY WILL against YOURS...This is two men trying to BREAK each other...

I've blinked in the past Dan...I've come up short, I've faltered, I've lost...But not this time...No Dan...This time I got nothing else...I've lived this life, and what have I gotten for it? A whore wife...I'm a dry drunk...I'm a recovering pain killer addict...I'm a sob story, a punch line...The old wrestler who ravaged his body for chance to get himself 15 minutes of fame...

Well I'm going to make all of it...All the pain...All the suffering, all the agony...Worth my friggin' time...I'm going to win this tournament, I'm going to put the cherry on top of my legacy...You're in my way...And well, it sucks to be you Dan...

But in all honesty Dan...I have to ask you a question...

Did you at least give Androgyny an honest shot? I mean it's not their best work, but if you give it a play or two it gets kind of catchy...

You know me Dan (Smiles) LIVING THE GIMMICK...

Only Happy When It Rains

(FADEOUT)
 

The Great Eye

I came to cut you up
Joined
Jan 29, 2004
Messages
1,337
Points
0
(FADEIN: Doc Silver standing in a road, a rain storm pouring down upon him. He looks soaked, he's still wearing the Garbage "Scream" T-Shirt and his normal sweat pants.)

DOC: This is one of my oldest promo settings Dan...Haven't busted it out yet this whole tournament...You really should be honored...I'm risking pneumonia, flu, cold, all of the above, just to make this look impressive...Because we all know that me and the rain...We're tight..(Interlocks fingers)

I've been thinking about something for a while, honestly it's been turning over in my head time and again, and I keep trying to figure out what it is...But here's about what I got...

Who the hell is Dan Ryan?

Honestly, what have you been about, stood for, believed in? I just don't get it really, I mean my life's an open book, it's not a easy read, it's not fun, but you know where you stand with me. You...I see you and you're a Tiger Woods, or a Roger Federer, just this amazing talent, this great winner, who's just guarded, protected, you don't let us in, we can't see who the hell Dan Ryan truly is. I get it in the sense that you've never had to bear your soul to the masses, all they know or care about you is that you Donkey Kong some poor slob and that's that. Yeah, it's supposed to be about the ring, but man, you already called me out on that, all I am in that ring is a blood soaked super ball...(Smiles)

So I'm calling you out Dan, I'm gonna throw down the challenge, put the line in the sand, all those other stupid things people say about events like this. I'm demanding we have a dance off in the ring at TiT...Lord knows I'm about as liking to lose at this as I would be to lose a first blood match, but man, I just want you to get that stick out of your ass and live a little...Just do something without sneering contempt or bitter disgust...I want to see Dan Ryan crack a smile and mean it...I want a crowd of thousands to get something other then just you crushing some poor bastard's skull...Well in this case I'd be the poor bastard....And after we have our comedy...Well I'll take my beating...And then dish one out, and beat you...

I just want to see you out of your comfort zone for about 30 seconds really, that's about it Dan. I'd like to see you do anything other then look down your nose at people...What does the red dot do to you Dan? You know what I'm talking about, when the camera's on, that little red dot...We've talked about the Garbage and it's a gimmick...It's a gimmick cause it's different, cause nobody in the right mind would say "I'm gonna start being a mark for some teir 2 or 3 band and make that work, get myself over with it." but really Dan...This is who I am, I've had more then my fair share of debates about the merits of "Beautiful Garbage" and "Bleed Like Me" with Felix Red...Who really, *really* hates how Shirley uses "baby" in so many songs...

Be it a loss to you, or the finals, this is my end, you think I'm burning all the T-Shirts and taking a hammer to all my DVD's and CD's? That I'll finally be glad to be rid of all this...(Smiles) Dan, this is what I'm about, even if I listen to a buncha crap now, G's always gonna be my first love...The woman I go back to at the end of the day...

"The Ego Buster"...You say it's just a stupid nickname from a promoter...It's your shield, your avatar...It's what you use to mask yourself from the media...Your promos, your interviews, are in their way about the same as Bill Belichick's press conferences, we know we're not getting anything...We know you're holding out on us...Maybe we'll get a quip here and there, but with him, it's indifference, as if the interview is a root canal...With you it's hubris, as if nobody should even dare to challenge your greatness...It's the same song and dance...

My wife's a whore, my best friend is a degenerate gambler, I'm what I am, it's all out in the open, everyone can see it...But really, who the hell are you? I mean, I remember some drama about your wife, cause she's Lindsay Troy's sister...But man, I had to hit the Wiki to find out her name was Alaina and your daughter is named Cecilia but is nicknamed "CeCe"...You're a mystery Dan Ryan...A riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma.

And I'm sure you'll tell me it's all meaningless, that I'm still getting stuck like a tack from a Humility Bomb, that you'll live your life your way, and I'm just a disgrace for putting all my drama out there for the world to see...But the fact is, I'm very comfortable in my skin, I know who I am, and so does the world...Does anyone really know who Dan Ryan is? What he's like when the mask finally slips?

Oh, and don't you worry Dan, just because I didn't do Duke Williams the honor doesn't mean it's stopped...You're gonna get your movie...Oh you're gonna get it all right...

Another thing you're gonna get...Is beat...But I'm not going to send you to the endless path of misery...No...To hell with that, I'm going to FREE you from the misery of being "The Ego Buster" I'm going to LIBERATE you from the red dot, the crowds, all of it...I'm going to just send you home to your wife and daughter, to be Dan Ryan...Family man...

And me...Well I'll be in the finals...I'll be one step away from ending my career in glory...And I'll just have to remain...

(Extends his arms out to the side, palms skyward. Head up, being pelted by the rain.)

Only Happy...When It Rains...

(FADEOUT)
 

DBrunkGXW

Consigliere
Joined
Sep 11, 1997
Messages
4,814
Points
36
Age
46
Location
Katy, TX
FADE IN……

The front porch of a ranch in Texas, near Schulenburg. The huge wrap-around porch stretches to either side of the shot, where Dan Ryan sits on a chair looking out over the valley in front of him. The house, perched on a hill overlooks miles of hill country, including a large lake just to the East of the shot but still in view.

Ryan: “Why, Doc?”

“Why didn’t you just say you had nothin’? Why didn’t you just say there was nothing left to say? Or did you? Let me clarify your premise for you, Mr. Silver.”

“You’re the one living in this world of black and white. You’re trying really really hard to drag me down into it, but I’m not biting. You want it simple. Simple and straight to the point. Not only are your opinions of me two dimensional and shallow due to a complete lack of study of any kind really…but your assertions as to my own opinions are painted with a two dimensional brush as well. You’ve had the labels made up. Doc Silver thinks Dan Ryan is the product of lucky genetics and hype. Based on everything that pretty much everyone who actually follows my career knows, well….That’s stupid. Then there’s…what you believe my opinion of you is…”

“Dan Ryan thinks Doc Silver is a stupid gimmick and a bumbling fool.”

“Well Doc, you said you were a gimmick. I did think it was stupid. DO…think it’s stupid. But let’s not get silly here. You acknowledged the gimmick, so own it. And if you own it as you claim to, if you’re having your discussions with Felix about band issues and album quality and have turned it into a career…good for you, Doc. Good for you. I never doubted that it’s amazing that you managed to make a career out of being a groupie. I just said it’s stupid. And it is, Doc. It’s very stupid. Just because you’ve managed to convince some promoters that you matter doesn’t mean that I have to think you do, does it Doc? I mean, that’s okay right? You can be loved and admired by some, but not me can’t you? That doesn’t stick in your craw too much for you to go on, I’m sure. But I don’t really think you’re a bumbling fool, Doc. Not to the degree you seem to assume.”

“What I actually think, if you care to hear from me instead of from inside your own head – is that you are reactionary and boring. Reactive and not proactive. I think you came into this match assuming you could state what was, and then have me follow behind and react to it the way you expect. Bullet number one leads to two leads to three and so on. The formula usually works for you I’m sure. That would explain the cookie cutter opening salvo, yes? And you have the nerve to accuse me of going through the motions? To me Doc? And this doesn’t just apply to you – but there is no more sure sign of a man going through the motions than a man who just can’t wait to get to his catchphrase. It’s a simpleton early career move at best and a veteran hanging onto glory move at worst. This isn’t early in your career so what does it say to you? You wanna make fun of Cameron Cruise but you use the same modeus operandi do you not? Is there a reality check coming that I ….just won’t like, Doc?”

“You’ve beaten bigger and better than me.”

Smile…

“Do you really wanna go there?”

“Who on your list have I not beat, Doc? Randalls? I don’t think that match has ever happened. But Randalls is it. How about Troy Windham? Is he on your list? Mark Windham? How about your buddy GUNS…who you travel the countryside with borinating the promotions into folding at your feet? Craig Miles? Eddie Mayfield? Come on, Doc. We can do this all day. You have some more? Nova? Ravager? D!? How about Rob Sampson or Kevin Powers? Anarky? Felix Red? Should we go through my big wins and main events alphabetically or chronologically? Either way the idea that you’d bring such a subject up with me is laughable. You’re not scared because you’ve beaten bigger and better, Doc? Well hey…tick tock.”

“You do realize that almost everyone I’ve gotten in the ring with for the last five years has said that exact thing don’t you? How it’s just another match, how just because I’m ‘Dan Ryan’ that doesn’t mean anything to them. It’s always about the hype, never the respect for the work. It’s a good thing I don’t feel the need to beg for respect, Doc. But the bottom line is, they all say it and usually they all lose anyway. I lose some. So what? I usually get my win back. I’m kinda relentless like that. It comes from a need to compete, a need to do what’s ingrained in my DNA. It sure as hell doesn’t come from hype. I spent the last two years wrestling in an indy fed in Canada because I wanted to check out some of the guys from up there we keep hearing about… Ravager, Bruce Richards, D!, Jake Phoenix and so on. It wasn’t for publicity. No one around here even knew I was up there unless I told them myself. I went to compete Doc. I went to get away from the hype, not to run to it.”

“I have that aura. Yeah, that kinda goes with the territory. So what? I’m supposed to apologize because Larry Tact pukes in his dressing room before a match with me? That’s my problem? He used the ‘this is just Tuesday’ line on me too, by the way.”

“But you? You can’t even climb up over one concept and see someone else as a complex individual because all you are is what you throw on the screen. Or are you? Conflicting reports from your own damn mouth would confuse anyone listening to you. Early on it’s just a gimmick, you don’t really go around wearing sweatpants and Garbage t-shirts. Now, you’re really just a Garbage fan who wrestles, discussing the merits of one album or the next with your buddy. Who cares? You’re just making this s**t up as you go along anyway. Throw it against the wall and see how I react to it. Set up the chess board and wait for me to move. Too bad your opening move was so friggin’ weak. You talk about mercy as though it were an absolute.”

“Mercy.”

“It wasn’t mercy that saved A1E. I already told you the reason, but you don’t care and I’m tired of trying to teach a kindergartener how to color. Because no matter how many times I tell you the sky is blue, you just keep using that damn burnt siena crayon. That’s fine, Doc. Think what you want. I don’t care either. Now ain’t we both content?”

“You have no true character, Doc – and that’s the real problem. You sat around for three days just thinking of something to say to me and what you came up with was that you don’t really know me. Do you think it’s wise to publically announce that you don’t pay attention? Is it a smart move to come right out and say how out of touch with the wrestling product of the last ten years you are?”

“Doc, if you’d paid attention to GXW then you’d know what turned me from a standard wrestling gimmick like you into a real person tired of being a tool to line a promoter’s wallet, why and how. If you’d paid attention to the CSWA, you’d know where I broke out on the national and global scene, the politics of how I got there, why, and under what difficult circumstance. If you’d paid attention to NFW, which you were actually competing in at the same time, you’d know about the mother of my first child, who her father was and the power he exerted over NFW in Japan at the time. Then again, you didn’t even remember that we were in the same company together so I imagine remembering things that actually were broadcast on television is way too much to ask. If you paid attention to EPW…or A1E… or the aforementioned places I’ve already mentioned, you’d know many other things. Among the things that have come up publically are my entire family, their names, where I grew up, what my father did for a living and the importance of that tidbit, the name of my deceased daughter and how she died, the names of my wife, secretary, current daughter, friends, enemies, favorite color and time of day I like to shower.”

“But ’we’ don’t really know the real Dan Ryan, do we Doc?”

“The people who matter do, buddy. And if anyone cared to pay attention, they would too. So either do the homework yourself or stop pretending you give a damn, Doc. I’m not here to be your little poodle in the middle of the center ring who dances for you again just because you didn’t bother to look the first time. If you really wanna know, go get a god**mned Blockbuster card.”

“I’m no mystery. I’m just what I always was. I am who I am, Doc – and you, sadly are who you are. You’ll keep beating that ‘prove to me you still have the drive’ horse to death but you don’t even have the basic knowledge to take that angle and run with it properly. You can’t name the most simple things about who I am, yet you make it a selling point in your little promo. REAL NICE MOVE. Real good call there, Mr. strategy.”

“Tell you what – do me a favor and, before you accuse me of half assing it… lay out all of these accusations you intend to make on the table first and figure out if they’re just surface nonsense? Or if you can actually discuss them intelligently should I call your bluff and give a little deeper meaning to it. All week long it’s been the same ol’ s**t…. how it’s just another match, how I’m just another ‘roid monkey with a bunch of hype. It’s a bunch of shallow, nonsensical bulls**t that you can’t back up.”

“And the latest? I’m an aloof, private shut-in who nobody really knows. Yeah, except I live my fu**in’ life on TV and the world sees every damn second of it unless I force the cameras out. What’s he like when the mask finally slips….Jesus. At this point, Doc? You’re just really really freakin’ tiresome. Really tiresome.”

“The only thing I want you to free me from, Doc…the only thing that you’ll be allowed to free me from – is this line of bulls**t directionless dialogue of yours. Spend three more days and come up with something else random, Doc. That’s all you seem to be good for anymore.”

“There’s nothing left to say anymore. I’m extremely comfortable with who I am, just like you say you are. I have absolutely nothing to prove to you and there’s nothing left you could say to impress me. You’ve proven yourself to be one more in a long line of challengers to my big bad legendary status to give me a week of corny dialogue and show me absolutely f**kin’ nothing. So in the end, all we have to convince anyone watching who’s more likely to win this match is my track record…and yours.”

“I wouldn’t trade my career for yours if I was high on crack or drunk. Throw in like…five number one draft picks and a trade kicker, some yoohoo and some red skittles. That could be a starting out point.”

“But despite whatever you are, whoever you are and whatever you want us to believe….whether you’re relaxing at home or in the middle of the street in the rain collapsed down on your knees, hands to the sky in your ‘Wolverine kneeling over his dead girlfriend and vowing vengeance’ pose, your threats are shallow, your arguments weak and your assertion that errrrrrr…. Deerrrrr…. ‘what I’m gonna get… is beat’….”

“You know...I don’t even care anymore. You can’t send me home to my wife and daughter as anything, Doc. I am a family man. I will go home after all of this, watch a little TV, play with my daughter and have a nice long restful sleep. But I’m also gonna beat you down like you’ve never been beaten down in your whole life, chief. See I’m one of those guys you always heard about but never really saw up close.”

“I’m the total package, Doc.”

Wink…

“Enjoy your retirement, Doc. It’s well earned, and it’s been a long time coming. Good luck in your golden years. Tell GUNS I said hi.”

FADE OUT………
 

The Great Eye

I came to cut you up
Joined
Jan 29, 2004
Messages
1,337
Points
0
(FADEIN: A barracks where a group of bland looking men stand in front of their bunk beds.)

GREENIE: ATEN...HUT! I am gunnery sgt. Greenie and I am your senior drill instructor! And the first and last words out of your filthy sewers will be sir...Do you maggots understand me?

GROUP: SIR, YES SIR

(Greenie walks around the group before stopping at Doc Silver.)

GREENIE: What's your name scumbag?

DOC: Sir, Private Silver Sir!

GREENIE: Silver? That doesn't sound like a christian name to me. Do you believe in the Virgin Mary?!

DOC: Sir, I believe that question came up far later in the movie, but for the sake of this promo I'll ignore that. My name is Jewish, but I am also an atheist sir, and thusly I do not in any way shape or form believe in the Virgin Mary.

(Greenie slugs Doc in the gut. Doc falls to one knee.)

GREENIE: You worthless maggot, you'll worship the Virgin Mary and you'll love it!

DOC: Sir, you just stiffed the sh*t out of me and you're gonna pay for that I promise you sir. And no I will never kneel before your stupid myths sir.

GREENIE: You disgrace to humanity and America. You'll pay for this.

(Greenie walks away from Doc and to a large man, who is most likely supposed to be Dan Ryan.)

GREENIE: What's your excuse?

BOGUS RYAN: Sir Excuse for what sir?!

GREENIE: I'm asking the f*cking questions around here! Do you understand that?

BOGUS RYAN: Sir yes sir!

GREENIE: What's your name private?

BOGUS RYAN: Sir, Private Ryan, sir.

GREENIE: Private Ryan?! Do you think we're gonna SAVE you? To hell with that, if you ever get captured I hope they throw you in a hole till you starve to death! Why you're so ugly you could be a modern art masterpiece...Where are you from?

BOGUS RYAN: Sir Texas sir!

GREENIE: Holy dogsh*t...TEXAS?! Only Steers and Qu*ers come from Texas, Well that and the Cowboys, Rangers, Texans...Astros...LBJ was a pretty good President and he was from Texas...

DOC: Sir, may I suggest getting back to your lines sir.

GREENIE: Who said you could talk maggot?!

(Greenie rushes over to Doc and cracks him in the gut again, Doc's eyes bug and he drops to his knees.)

DOC: (Gasping) Oh you're gonna pay for this...You're paying...

(Greenie walks back to Bogus Ryan, who now has a big grin on his face)

GREENIE: What are you smiling about.

BOGUS RYAN: Sir, watching you beat Doc sir.

GREENIE: That is pretty entertaining isn't it? I know I'm supposed to like...Make you choke yourself and all that, but that's no fun, I'm gonna sucker punch Doc again...

(Greenie walks over and cracks Doc in the ribs. Doc again falls to his knees, Greenie walks over to Doc's locker. and ransacks it, he pulls out a jelly doughnut.)

GREENIE: Oh my stars...I CAN NOT BELIEVE THIS...A Jelly doughnut?! How?! Could you do this private Doc? After all the hard work, all the training, all the effort I've spent trying to mold you into a marine, you go and steal this food, this food you can't have BECAUSE YOU'RE A DISGUSTING FATBODY...Clearly, I've failed to motivate you...so I will have to ask everyone else here to motivate you...

(Doc's eyes widen in horror)

DOC: Sir, I'm not supposed to get the blanket party, SIR...

GREENIE: I'm the one who runs things around here! I'll be deciding who takes a beating!

(CUTTO: Doc suffering a blanket party)

(CUTTO: Doc the next morning trying to climb an obstical, he's having a tough time.)

GREENIE: What the hell is wrong with you private Silver?! You climb obstacle like old people f*ck...

DOC: Sir I'm trying sir...I think I have a broken rib sir

GREENIE: You sally! Suck it up princess and start climbing!

(CUTTO: Bogus Ryan now training Doc on how to do things. Doc seethes with rage as the scenes pass.)

(CUTTO: Bogus Ryan and Bloodhunt in the head, cleaning the floor.)

BOGUS RYAN: I don't think Doc can hack it...I think he's a section 8...

BLOODHUNT: What makes you say that...

BOGUS RYAN: I hear him mumbling at night, cursing Greenie...and he named his rifle Shirley...

BLOODHUNT: That seems normal to me...I think he'll be fine...

BOGUS RYAN: You people are all nuts.

BLOODHUNT: Hey this pays the bills...

BOGUS RYAN: Whatever, Oswald acted alone, you're an idiot.

(Bloodhunt drops his mop, glares at Bogus Ryan)

BLOODHUNT: OK, let's get into this...Look at the press conference at Parkland Hospital after JFK was assassinated...THREE TIMES the doctors said the wound to this throat was a wound of entrance...Now if you want to explain to me how that somehow makes it clear that (Continues ranting)

BOGUS RYAN: Dammit, I got him started...

(CUTTO: Doc in the head with a rifle, Bogus Ryan and Greenie standing with him)

GREENIE: What the?! No! You're not supposed to have the gun!

DOC: You flipped the script the whole damn show and now you're gonna whine that I got the gun?! What the hell did you think was gonna happen?!

GREENIE: Doc come on, I was just kidding! Really, we can work this out...

(Doc shoots Greenie through the chest. It's shown in slow motion as the blood sprays from Greenie's chest and then he falls to the ground dead.)

DOC: And how the hell did you come out of this smelling like a rose?!

(Doc points the gun at Bogus Ryan)

DOC: We were supposed to do this promo to bury you, and all that's happened is Greenie's beaten the piss out of me and you've come off looking great...To hell with that...So now, it's over...

(Doc opens fire on Bogus Ryan, hitting him 4 times in the chest, Bogus Ryan falls to the ground dead.)

DOC: Yeah that's right, I just shot on Ryan, deal with it! And this is DONE! If I wanted to talk to an asian whore I'd go home and deal with my wife...And besides the Vietnam sections of this film suck compared to Apocalypse Now...Kubrick was a hack...

(Doc drops the rifle and walks out of the camera shot, the camera just stays on Bogus Ryan and Greenie's dead bodies.)

DOC: And you're both laying there till the tape runs out...Sell being dead...SELL IT!

(FADEOUT)
 
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