J
JPenley
Guest
[updated:LAST EDITED ON Jul-30-02 AT 07:42 PM (EDT)]The shot cuts in after a slow, gradual fade in, on a fire escape. The chipped black iron fire escape clings to the side of a modest brick apartment building like a constricting serpent. Past the building, the lights of Charlotte reflect off the towering skyscrapers at its epicenter, glimmering like lost jewels.
Standing on the fire escape, looking off into the city is the man that CSWA viewers have come to know as Nate Logan. His chin length dark blonde hair flies loose across his head, blowing in the wind. He wears a simple tight black t-shirt, a pair of red plaid pajama pants, and a ratty pair of blue sneakers. Logan turns to face the camera, a smirk on his face.
LOGAN: I've gotta say, Stevie, I never knew you had such a comedic bent. As funny as your promo was though, Steve-O, it doesn't mask the truth. It doesn't mask the fact that Eddy LOVE, perennial World Champion, Eddy LOVE, the Lake Hartwell Heart-throb, the man who ALWAYS COMES HOME WITH THE TEDDY BEAR, the motherf***ing HURRICANE...is chicken.
Nate smirks, allowing a moment's pause for his statement to sink in.
LOGAN: That's right, Eddy. I am calling you a coward. I am calling you a chicken. But most importantly...I AM CALLING YOU OUT! Surprised? I'm sure. Because you sure didn't mind running your mouth about me when I had been in all of five matches back in EWI. You were the World Champion, Eddy, I was a rookie, and I kept my mouth shut. But now...look at you. Now YOU don't DARE run your mouth to me. You stay silent and hidden off in bumf*** South Carolina, frantically polishing belts and trophies in a vain attempt to secure your self-loving state of mind, but it's all in vain. Because Eddy's silence can only mean one thing. That something is growing in the back of his mind. That wonder, that possibility, that FEAR...that his time is over. That the time of his kind...is over. That time of the CSWA...is over. His silence gives it away. Eddy Love is frightened of what Kevin and I represent. The future. But the future is inevitable, Eddy. You can't run from it, no matter how many jets you own, or how many hot-rods are in your garage. You can't hide from it, no matter how many "Mr. Wrestling 2000" masks you don. The only thing you can do, is face it. And unless you want to prove to the world that I'm right...you'll face it at Fish Fund, when you face the future...when you face Kevin Powers and Nate Logan.
Nate Logan offers a wry smile, slightly happier than a smirk and pops his neck before continuing.
LOGAN: Which of course brings us to Steve Radder. The "Iceman!" Well, Maverick, you might think you're the Top Gun of the wrestling industry, and that might be true...two years ago. You see Steve, like your compatriot Eddy, you're a relic. A faded reminder of a time that's, thankfully, long gone. And like Love, you've gone from being the biggest and the best, to being...ironically..."Absolute Zero." You may not realize it yet, but trust me, it's true. Eddy has realized it. You'll be next. And one by one, the CSWA will realize it. The truth...the truth is what really hurts, Steve, and truth is this...the CSWA era, the thirteen years of glory...is ending. So enjoy it Radder. Enjoy it Eddy. Enjoy it, CSWA. There won't be a year fourteen.
The shot immediately cuts to black.
Standing on the fire escape, looking off into the city is the man that CSWA viewers have come to know as Nate Logan. His chin length dark blonde hair flies loose across his head, blowing in the wind. He wears a simple tight black t-shirt, a pair of red plaid pajama pants, and a ratty pair of blue sneakers. Logan turns to face the camera, a smirk on his face.
LOGAN: I've gotta say, Stevie, I never knew you had such a comedic bent. As funny as your promo was though, Steve-O, it doesn't mask the truth. It doesn't mask the fact that Eddy LOVE, perennial World Champion, Eddy LOVE, the Lake Hartwell Heart-throb, the man who ALWAYS COMES HOME WITH THE TEDDY BEAR, the motherf***ing HURRICANE...is chicken.
Nate smirks, allowing a moment's pause for his statement to sink in.
LOGAN: That's right, Eddy. I am calling you a coward. I am calling you a chicken. But most importantly...I AM CALLING YOU OUT! Surprised? I'm sure. Because you sure didn't mind running your mouth about me when I had been in all of five matches back in EWI. You were the World Champion, Eddy, I was a rookie, and I kept my mouth shut. But now...look at you. Now YOU don't DARE run your mouth to me. You stay silent and hidden off in bumf*** South Carolina, frantically polishing belts and trophies in a vain attempt to secure your self-loving state of mind, but it's all in vain. Because Eddy's silence can only mean one thing. That something is growing in the back of his mind. That wonder, that possibility, that FEAR...that his time is over. That the time of his kind...is over. That time of the CSWA...is over. His silence gives it away. Eddy Love is frightened of what Kevin and I represent. The future. But the future is inevitable, Eddy. You can't run from it, no matter how many jets you own, or how many hot-rods are in your garage. You can't hide from it, no matter how many "Mr. Wrestling 2000" masks you don. The only thing you can do, is face it. And unless you want to prove to the world that I'm right...you'll face it at Fish Fund, when you face the future...when you face Kevin Powers and Nate Logan.
Nate Logan offers a wry smile, slightly happier than a smirk and pops his neck before continuing.
LOGAN: Which of course brings us to Steve Radder. The "Iceman!" Well, Maverick, you might think you're the Top Gun of the wrestling industry, and that might be true...two years ago. You see Steve, like your compatriot Eddy, you're a relic. A faded reminder of a time that's, thankfully, long gone. And like Love, you've gone from being the biggest and the best, to being...ironically..."Absolute Zero." You may not realize it yet, but trust me, it's true. Eddy has realized it. You'll be next. And one by one, the CSWA will realize it. The truth...the truth is what really hurts, Steve, and truth is this...the CSWA era, the thirteen years of glory...is ending. So enjoy it Radder. Enjoy it Eddy. Enjoy it, CSWA. There won't be a year fourteen.
The shot immediately cuts to black.