~14 years....
It's been 14 years.....
It's been 14 years since I saw them....
It's been 14 years since I saw them dead....
It's been 14 years since I saw them dead and I couldn't do anything....
9 years....
It's been 9 years....
It's been 9 years since I wrestled....
It's been 9 years since I wrestled under my birth name....
It's been 9 years since I wrestled under my birth name until....
It's been 9 years since I wrestled under my birth name until the day...
It's been 9 years since I wrestled under my birth name until the day I lost my eye....
It's been 9 years since I wrestled under my birth name until the day I lost my eye, my honor....
It's been 9 years since I wrestled under my birth name until the day I lost my eye, my honor, my love....
It's been 9 years since I wrestled under my birth name until the day I lost my eye, my honor, my love, and my life....
5 years...
It's been 5 years...
It's been 5 years since I came...
It's been 5 years since I came back...
It's been 5 years since I came back to the States...
It's been 5 years since I came back to the States reborn...
It's been 5 years since I came back to the States reborn as the...
It's been 5 years since I came back to the States reborn as the mysterious wanderer...
No face...
No honor...
No love...
No life...
Just a name....
A name no one cares about...
Nor no one wants to pay attention to....
And yet in those 5 years to the day....
Those who did not care...
Nor paid attention....
Cared...
Paid attention...
When I faced them...
Eye to eye....
Cold stare to cold stare....
And when it was all said and done...
Win or lose...
They cared...
They paid attention...
Because they realized...
Realized...
That I was not like them...
Not like them at all...
And now...
I must once again....
Make them care....
Make them pay attention...
While I....
I start my destiny...
My destiny...
Over again....
Reborn....~
(The camera fades in from black into a shot of a man, clad in black; leather trench coat, leather Fedora hat, leather finger-cut gloves, and mask. However, what stands out from this black ensemble is a white symbol. The symbol, vaguely looking like the letter "S", is positioned right on the front of this mask; with no holes whatsoever. This black gloved hand lifts in between its fingers a Cuban cigar, Garcia Vega to be exact. The camera cuts to the cigar being placed between a very invisible slit in the mask, as this masked figure takes a slow puff of the Garcia Vega. The figure exhales a puff of smoke, letting it dance in the air enticingly. The camera zooms out a bit, revealing this dark figure more and more. It is then realized that this man dressed in black, with the familiar white symbol on the front of his mask, is none other than Suicide. A small sign far away can be made out by the camera, as it reads "Cricket Arena". Suicide is shown sitting in the stands of the Cricket Arena, in Charlotte, North Carolina.)
Suicide: Every man's life is read like a book. Each event happening in his life is like a story. These stories are created into chapters. Thus the chapters of a man's life make up this book. Each man's book reads differently. Some are wonderful stories, of triumph, success, and celebration. Other stories however, are nothing more than a personal trip into the dark recesses of their soul they call a living nightmare.
(Suicide raises the cigar to his mask and takes a puff through this small slit. He then releases another cloud of cigar smoke in the air.)
Suicide: I'll be perfectly honest with you; when I began in this business, I was nothing more than a reckless youth. I didn't care about anything but the brass ring. I wanted to be the best....I wanted to be the greatest wrestler that ever lived. Fairy tales don't come true, no matter how much a mother tries to convince her child. Reality is truth and when reality slapped me upside the head.....I felt it. Not only did I feel it, but the feeling was so deep, it changed my life completely. I'm not going to sit here and tell you that I've earned this; my place in the ranks of one of the greatest wrestling promotions in the world.....CSWA. To be honest, I haven't earned a damn thing. But here's the surprise that'll get you.....I don't care about if I've earned anything. I busted my ass, I broke my back.....just like every other wrestler that claims so. I won't sit here and say that I've made it. I didn't. I didn't make a damn thing. I've held titles left and right, but that doesn't give me nor anyone else the right to claim they've earned their spot.
(Suicide takes yet another puff of his cigar, scratching the side of his face through his mask.)
Suicide: I know that ever since Mr. Merritt decided to pull rank and start to pull a scare tactics to some of the greatest wrestlers that have ever graced this sport, two sides have been created. Those who are established, who rest comfortably on their sucesses of past.....and those who are new to the place, as they walk around, standing proud and tall, because Mr. Merrit gave them his blessing to act as so. I'll tell you this much.....I could care less which side people expect me to take. 'New blood'? New blood, old blood, it doesn't matter to me. Blood will be shed, sweat will bead upon every wrestler's brow, and pain will be felt all around. I didn't come to the CSWA to impress a damn soul. Somehow, someway, destiny brought me here.
(Suicide crushes the cigar in his hand and tosses it away. He then brings his full attention to the camera.)
Suicide: So where does that leave me then? On Time that's where it leaves me. Apparently Mr. Merritt wants all the 'new blood' to impress him, with the one who impresses him the most getting a shot at Jean Rabesque and his precious Greensboro Title. Jean Rabesque.....it's been a long time hasn't it? Well don't worry old friend, I won't try to impress our esteemed president to get a shot at you. You know and I know, that feeling you have in the pit of your stomach....we will meet. It's inevitable Mr. Raebsque....but until then.....I must make the first move.....towards CSWA.....towards Aelias Feirte....towards each and every one of you in this esteemed league. Until one by one you come to know me....not as a thread to the old guard.....not as one of the 'new blood'.....but as one of the most underrated wrestlers today....The Man....The Myth....The Legend.....Suicide. It's time for me to write a new chapter in my book.....while at the same time.....writing in each one of yours.....'nuff said.....
(Suicide turns away from the camera and stares away into the emptiness. The camera then fades out.)
It's been 14 years.....
It's been 14 years since I saw them....
It's been 14 years since I saw them dead....
It's been 14 years since I saw them dead and I couldn't do anything....
9 years....
It's been 9 years....
It's been 9 years since I wrestled....
It's been 9 years since I wrestled under my birth name....
It's been 9 years since I wrestled under my birth name until....
It's been 9 years since I wrestled under my birth name until the day...
It's been 9 years since I wrestled under my birth name until the day I lost my eye....
It's been 9 years since I wrestled under my birth name until the day I lost my eye, my honor....
It's been 9 years since I wrestled under my birth name until the day I lost my eye, my honor, my love....
It's been 9 years since I wrestled under my birth name until the day I lost my eye, my honor, my love, and my life....
5 years...
It's been 5 years...
It's been 5 years since I came...
It's been 5 years since I came back...
It's been 5 years since I came back to the States...
It's been 5 years since I came back to the States reborn...
It's been 5 years since I came back to the States reborn as the...
It's been 5 years since I came back to the States reborn as the mysterious wanderer...
No face...
No honor...
No love...
No life...
Just a name....
A name no one cares about...
Nor no one wants to pay attention to....
And yet in those 5 years to the day....
Those who did not care...
Nor paid attention....
Cared...
Paid attention...
When I faced them...
Eye to eye....
Cold stare to cold stare....
And when it was all said and done...
Win or lose...
They cared...
They paid attention...
Because they realized...
Realized...
That I was not like them...
Not like them at all...
And now...
I must once again....
Make them care....
Make them pay attention...
While I....
I start my destiny...
My destiny...
Over again....
Reborn....~
(The camera fades in from black into a shot of a man, clad in black; leather trench coat, leather Fedora hat, leather finger-cut gloves, and mask. However, what stands out from this black ensemble is a white symbol. The symbol, vaguely looking like the letter "S", is positioned right on the front of this mask; with no holes whatsoever. This black gloved hand lifts in between its fingers a Cuban cigar, Garcia Vega to be exact. The camera cuts to the cigar being placed between a very invisible slit in the mask, as this masked figure takes a slow puff of the Garcia Vega. The figure exhales a puff of smoke, letting it dance in the air enticingly. The camera zooms out a bit, revealing this dark figure more and more. It is then realized that this man dressed in black, with the familiar white symbol on the front of his mask, is none other than Suicide. A small sign far away can be made out by the camera, as it reads "Cricket Arena". Suicide is shown sitting in the stands of the Cricket Arena, in Charlotte, North Carolina.)
Suicide: Every man's life is read like a book. Each event happening in his life is like a story. These stories are created into chapters. Thus the chapters of a man's life make up this book. Each man's book reads differently. Some are wonderful stories, of triumph, success, and celebration. Other stories however, are nothing more than a personal trip into the dark recesses of their soul they call a living nightmare.
(Suicide raises the cigar to his mask and takes a puff through this small slit. He then releases another cloud of cigar smoke in the air.)
Suicide: I'll be perfectly honest with you; when I began in this business, I was nothing more than a reckless youth. I didn't care about anything but the brass ring. I wanted to be the best....I wanted to be the greatest wrestler that ever lived. Fairy tales don't come true, no matter how much a mother tries to convince her child. Reality is truth and when reality slapped me upside the head.....I felt it. Not only did I feel it, but the feeling was so deep, it changed my life completely. I'm not going to sit here and tell you that I've earned this; my place in the ranks of one of the greatest wrestling promotions in the world.....CSWA. To be honest, I haven't earned a damn thing. But here's the surprise that'll get you.....I don't care about if I've earned anything. I busted my ass, I broke my back.....just like every other wrestler that claims so. I won't sit here and say that I've made it. I didn't. I didn't make a damn thing. I've held titles left and right, but that doesn't give me nor anyone else the right to claim they've earned their spot.
(Suicide takes yet another puff of his cigar, scratching the side of his face through his mask.)
Suicide: I know that ever since Mr. Merritt decided to pull rank and start to pull a scare tactics to some of the greatest wrestlers that have ever graced this sport, two sides have been created. Those who are established, who rest comfortably on their sucesses of past.....and those who are new to the place, as they walk around, standing proud and tall, because Mr. Merrit gave them his blessing to act as so. I'll tell you this much.....I could care less which side people expect me to take. 'New blood'? New blood, old blood, it doesn't matter to me. Blood will be shed, sweat will bead upon every wrestler's brow, and pain will be felt all around. I didn't come to the CSWA to impress a damn soul. Somehow, someway, destiny brought me here.
(Suicide crushes the cigar in his hand and tosses it away. He then brings his full attention to the camera.)
Suicide: So where does that leave me then? On Time that's where it leaves me. Apparently Mr. Merritt wants all the 'new blood' to impress him, with the one who impresses him the most getting a shot at Jean Rabesque and his precious Greensboro Title. Jean Rabesque.....it's been a long time hasn't it? Well don't worry old friend, I won't try to impress our esteemed president to get a shot at you. You know and I know, that feeling you have in the pit of your stomach....we will meet. It's inevitable Mr. Raebsque....but until then.....I must make the first move.....towards CSWA.....towards Aelias Feirte....towards each and every one of you in this esteemed league. Until one by one you come to know me....not as a thread to the old guard.....not as one of the 'new blood'.....but as one of the most underrated wrestlers today....The Man....The Myth....The Legend.....Suicide. It's time for me to write a new chapter in my book.....while at the same time.....writing in each one of yours.....'nuff said.....
(Suicide turns away from the camera and stares away into the emptiness. The camera then fades out.)