Post by Jonny Fly on Jan 14, 2012 22:33:50 GMT -5
thedynastyjonnyfly.webs.com/fly2.htm
SCENE BEGINS
One man grips another man's throat. The scene is nighttime in New York City. We are in an unknown location of the city staring at a man, held onto by his throat by an unknown figure, pushed into the side of a brick building. We can only see the face of the man held against the building and we know immediately we've never seen him before. He's young, not much more than 21 years old. His eyes are closed and he begins hitting the brick with his hand trying to grasp for anything he can to fight off his attacker. He's running out of air. Finally the grip on him is loosened, and he falls to the ground holding his neck. The other man kneels down pressing his forehead against the other's.
'Do you know who I am', he asks. There is no answer to the question, the only sound is the man on the ground gasping for air. Finally he's able to muster up the courage to open his eyes and look at his attacker. Upon seeing the face he begins shaking his head violently from side to side muttering 'no, please, no.' The kneeling man grabs the other man by the collar of the shirt and picks him up his feet. He again pushes him against the wall. We're now able to make out more features of the man behind this attack. He's tall, firmly built, brown hair, and wearing a large black coat. He reaches underneath the coat and holding his victim still he brings out a wooden baseball bat. The man on the wall begins to yell.
Man: No! Come on! I haven't done anything to you!
A familiar voice responds.
So, you do know me. I thought so. I bet your dad taught you well.
We have circled our camera around and can see plainly now that Jonny Fly is holding the baseball bat and pressing the other man against the wall.
Rumor has it, you've joined the family business, Michael. John and Jack Ridder's right hand man, Anthony Russo's little boy is all grown up.
I'm a student at NYU! I don't even talk to that sick bastard anymore. My mom and I moved out years ago.
Well that's inconvenient, because I need to talk to him. In fact, Michael, I need to use you to send a message to daddy.
That's fine! I'll do it, just don't hurt me. I'm not responsible for anything that has happened to you. I don't associate with my father or his friends.
Don't lie to me, son. I know everything about you. You are the person who can get me what I want. You're that person because your dad is positioning you to take over the Ridder's business. You're the chosen one. You're the one who is supposed to reunite the group.
What? Are you kidding me? You're crazy! I'm an art history major! I want to become a professor for Christ sake!
I'm curious, what were your plans for me when you took power? Were you personally going to get your hands dirty, or were you just going to let your dad deal with me?
Seriously man, I have no idea what you're talking about. I only know who you are because...everyone knows who you are. When I was little all my dad talked about was you and problems you were causing. I grew up in some fucked up mafia-type family. I've spent years in counseling trying to forget how I was brought up. This is exactly why!
Fly let's go of his hold on Michael Russo. With that same hand he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a picture. He holds it in front of Russo; staring straight into his eyes. Russo looks at the picture, smiles, straightens out his stance, and returns Fly's glare.
You are good, Jonny. You're too good. What you need to do is drop this front as a professional wrestler and come work for me. I don't give a shit about Jack and John Ridder. You belong in this line of work. Stop fighting it.
I don't think so. Like I said, Michael, I need to use you to send a message.
Fly tucks the picture back into his jacket pocket.
Considering my predicament, it appears I'm at your service. What can I do for you?
Fly smiles and looks down at the baseball bat in his hand.
Nothing. You are the message.
With those words, in one absurdly quick movement Fly raises the baseball bat and brings it down over the head of Michael Russo as hard as he can. Michael Russo is to slow to react and receives the brunt of the blow, crumbling to the ground with blood running down his forehead onto the pavement. Fly looks down at his victim and smiles.
Tell your dad to come find me, and that he better bring his entire fucking army with him.
Fly pushes his bat back underneath his jacket and takes back out the picture. He looks at it one more time, and then drops it on top of the barely conscious, but alive, Michael Russo. The picture falls right-side up, allowing the camera to zoom in on the image. The picture is taken at what looks like an outdoor cafe. There are four people sitting at a table. One of them we can clearly see is Michael Russo. Russo is seemingly in the middle of yelling at the person next to him, and is pointing at a folder that is lying on the table. We can make out the label on this folder which reads 'The End of Jonny Fly.' The scene fades out zoomed in on those words.
SCENE ENDS
SCENE BEGINS
The scene begins with a casually dressed Jonny Fly sitting in a chair in the middle of a stage. We've seen this exact scene before. There are cameras surrounding Fly in each direction, and an empty chair next to him. A man dressed in a suit walks onto the stage and shakes hands with Fly before taking the seat. Noises of camera turning on are heard, and people around the stage stop moving and take their place. We hear someone yell 'We're live!' and the cameras begin rolling. Our scene switches to a camera looking directly toward Fly as the man next to him begins to speak.
Welcome back! I'm Tim Devine and this is another edition of Wrestling Weekly, your source for the most updated news and information around the wrestling industry! We're joined again today by WCF Superstar Jonny Fly...
Devine turns from facing the cameras to looking at Fly.
...and let me tell you, Jonny, I'm a bit surprised that you were able to make it today.
The camera gets a close up on Fly, who not even twenty-four hours ago competed in War Games against Corey Black, Greenfever, Jay Price, and D-Day. Fly looks completely unscathed except for a small strip bandage over his forehead where Greenfever dug a switch blade into his skull. Fly looks questioning at Devine, and responds.
Let it be known to the world that I scheduled this interview weeks ago, knowing full well I would be walking out of that match yesterday ready to go again tomorrow night at Slam. I told everyone earlier in the week I would walk out of that cage on my own two feet. That's exactly what happened.
Your team did lose...
Team isn't the right word, Tim. Team is a term of collectivism. Losing is not what we did collectively. Gage Gannon lost. Unfortunately, Odin Balfore's dumb ass picked him for the 'team.' I dominated an entire ring by my damn self from the moment I entered the match. It's a pity my team couldn't keep up.
There has been some thought that your insistence on fighting Gage, as well as your opponents, softened and distracted Gage enough to allow Corey Black to get him to submit last night. How do you respond to these claims?
I'm supposed to care about this? It's very simple, Tim. It's War Games. You never tap, you never submit. If Gage Gannon's defense is that I beat him up too badly to fight off Corey Black, then he's in the wrong business. There is absolutely no excuse for him tapping. None. He cost me that match. At Slam, he's going to get his punishment for it.
Another item that got buzz going into War Games was your reported slip-up regarding the name of the event, XIII. In your televised appearance earlier in the week you refereed to the event as VIII a few times, earning quite a bit of hostility from your opponents.
Was it really a slip-up, Tim?
Fly smiles, causing Tim to sit back in his seat and think about the question.
I guess I don't know, was it?
Wouldn't it be kind of funny if that was intentional and then my opponents ran around calling ME dumb? That would be fucking hilarious, wouldn't it? Did I not tell them I don't give a shit about the event and the history of it they all want to shove down my throat? These guys just have a stick up their ass because they know I don't respect them, or their sacred little event XIII. Let me tell you what the fuckin' slip-up of the week was. That dumbass D-Day literally said that I haven't faced anyone in the WCF worth a shit. That's why until yesterday I hadn't lost; because I haven't faced a good wrestler yet. I haven't faced anyone with the 'skill' of a WCF World Champion! D-Day said that!
I BEAT HIM.
Apparently without realizing it, that stupid fuck literally called himself 'not a good wrestler' and someone 'without the skill of a World Champion.' After hearing that I was giggling my ass all the way to Iowa. He's right, too. He is fucking terrible. Beating him means nothing for my career. He nailed it. Way to go.
Well what...
I'M NOT DONE! Yeah, Tim, there was more dumb shit said leading up to XIII. I now feel compelled to comment on it. Let's take Corey Black this time and allow D-Day some time to rest his vagina from that slamming.
Fly reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper and holds it up from the camera to zoom in on. The paper reads 'Johnny Fly sucks' and is signed by Corey Black.
I took this from a fan at XIII. They showed it to me, we shared a good laugh at his expense, and then I took this from him to show everyone tonight. Apparently, Corey Black can't spell my name. Cute. Yet, he thinks he can get over on others for 'mistakes.' What are we, Black, eighth graders? Greenfever is no better, petty little bitches, both of them. Too fucking retarded to even realize I'm mocking them.
But, this isn't the only thing our 'fearless locker room leader' fucked up. No, he's way too good at that to leave us wanting more. Black..literally..said that he beat everyone on his way to the top. Uh, whatthefuckwhat? NO. Corey Black came back to WCF from a little séance, beat Ryan Blake, and who wouldn't? Then had a couple matches that ended in disqualification where he was fucking terrible and then, boom, World Title shot. Then..boom..barely won. Then..boom..he beat everyone on his way to top! Revisionist history is for bitches. I haven't been around long, but I was around for this crap festival. Black should be a man and say he got handpicked because everyone else sucks and you have a long history with the company. I might even be able to respect that. Regardless, Black is nothing more than a placeholder until guys like me are deemed to have been around long enough to 'earn' their shot. I have no qualms with that, but let's cut the 'Corey Black is good' act. He's trying like hell to make that portrayal, but he's just not. It's a sham. As the 'leader' he should take offense to this. I hope he does. I'd love a chance to soften him up for NVL. Truth is, he's too much of a pussy to let it happen.
Black had a lot to say about you as he was on his way into the arena last night. Would you like the opportunity to those comments here?
I guess people still don't truly understand me, yet. I don't mind being the target of verbal attacks. Considering how I talk to them, it's expected...and encouraged. I love making people eat their words. I LOVE that Corey Black spent most of his time on camera yesterday telling me exactly how he feels. When I'm on television, like right now, I have no problem being straightforward about how I feel about everyone else. I AM arrogant, but why shouldn't I be? If Corey Black feels the same way about himself, for whatever reason, that's great. However, he could do a much better job of it. Black was just filling space, yesterday. Seriously, he went on some ridiculous tirade about how he thinks I'm going to quit when I lose. Then he took it back and said I could prove him wrong, then he said 'no, you'll probably quit.' What the fuck? REALLY? This is the shit we commend him for? THAT is supposed to hurt my feelings and make me run off? That weak ass shit? Yeah, I'm going to go with no. I'm not going anywhere. I'll see Corey again eventually, and I won't be weighed down by Gage Gannon and Odin Balfore when it happens.
Let's bring this back to Gage Gannon. He's your opponent at Slam with the Television Title on the line. He made some comments after the match was over yesterday, have you had a chance to see them?
Yep, I seen them. He's a real tough guy limping around after costing our team the match and throwing around blind threats. Is there anyone else who watched Gage wrestle yesterday who thinks this is a waste of my fucking time? I'm really going to have to reevaluate making open challenges around here if this is the fluff I get back. I bet Odin Balfore is laughing his ass off in his hospital bed for bringing this clown into the mix. I asked for challengers; I WANT challenges. I don't want Gage Gannon. I want better. Every single week I ask for someone to get off their ass and shut me up. Every week I get...Gage Gannon's. Every week I beat...Gage Gannon's. There's nothing more to see here. There are no words that are going to change the outcome of this match. I'm going to win. I'm going to defend that fuckin' Television title, and I'm going to await patiently for the next card in the hopes that I'm past this bullshit.
I want Gage to know that my strategy last night was to simply exclude him from the match. I was comfortable fighting everyone off by myself. I simply didn't want Gage to fuck it up for all of us. He did. He failed miserably. My strategy didn't work, and it's the only thing I regret about the match. Odin gave us this hand to work with, so he shares the blame. I entered into this match because I'll never turn down a good fight. I asked my opponents to bring their best. What you watched yesterday was two out of four people hold their weight. Two against four is what it amounted to. That fucking pisses me off. When I get angry, as hard as it might be to imagine, I become even better. Gage is one of those who didn't pull his weight, and lucky for me, I get to see him tomorrow. Usually I win matches because, well, because I'm just plain more skilled than my opponent. Tomorrow, that match is more personal than that now. Gage Gannon separates himself from the normal worthless Television Title contender because he's cost me something, and that's going to cost him. I don't know where Gage is from, but allow me to explain this one more time for him, and for everyone...
The camera zooms in on Fly.
This is the era of Jonny Fly. I am The Dynasty. I am the future of this company. I am the man everyone will answer to. I don't accept the outcome of that match last night, and I don't accept Gage's effort in it. He's unquestionably going to pay for it at Slam tomorrow night. The same can be applied to Black, Greenfever, Price, EVERYONE. When you watch me tomorrow, remember these words. Remember what you are seeing, the example that I am making of Gage. It applies indefinitely to you all. When my match with Gage is over, and I am crowned as the winner, I highly recommend he find the nearest hole and bury himself in it. Your time is up, Gage. Your deemed unworthy of even the Television Title, you can't compete even at the substandard level of Corey Black, Greenfever, Jay Price, and D-Day. You are worthless. You have no future in this company, or this industry. I don't enjoy having to reach down to face you, but I owe you this. My sights are so much higher than you...you can't even imagine where I'll be in six more months. My ability is being wasted having to throw you around...again. Just end it, Gage. Follow your buddy Balfore into retirement. Disappear. My reign is unfolding here in WCF and you are incapable of even being a speed bump along the way.
This isn't much an interview anymore, but allow me to ask; what's next after Gage Gannon if you truly do retain your title?
That's not for me to decide. I will say there was too much talk about the quality of my opponents leading up to XIII. I don't pick these people, I just beat them all as they are lined up in front of me. I've challenged anyone who wants to face me that I'm more than willing. Instead, certain individuals would rather sit behind their trophy cases and criticize me. Perhaps a trip through my title history would do them some good. I'll face anyone, Tim. I don't respect a god damn person here and part of that is that I've said this exact thing for eight weeks now. I'll face anyone. All I get is Gage Gannon out of it. Thrilling stuff. I know why, don't misunderstand me. I know nobody wants to face me. Who would? I have this company by the throat right now.
Is there anything else you want to say to wrap this up?
Yeah. I owe Greenfever a switch blade to the face. Whenever he's reborn the next time, I'll be waiting. Also, I owe Odin Balfore a non-so-pleasant hospital visit. I'll get to that very soon. Lastly, I hope Gage gets his leg all bandaged up. I don't want any fucking excuses for what is about to occur tomorrow.
Fly stands up, looks quickly one last time at the cameras and then walks off the stage. Tim Devine watches him leave...
Well, I guess that is all from here. Thanks to Jonny for..stopping by. This has been another edition of Wrestling Weekly, goodnight!
The scene fades out on Devine as stares into the camera.
SCENE ENDS
SCENE BEGINS
One man grips another man's throat. The scene is nighttime in New York City. We are in an unknown location of the city staring at a man, held onto by his throat by an unknown figure, pushed into the side of a brick building. We can only see the face of the man held against the building and we know immediately we've never seen him before. He's young, not much more than 21 years old. His eyes are closed and he begins hitting the brick with his hand trying to grasp for anything he can to fight off his attacker. He's running out of air. Finally the grip on him is loosened, and he falls to the ground holding his neck. The other man kneels down pressing his forehead against the other's.
'Do you know who I am', he asks. There is no answer to the question, the only sound is the man on the ground gasping for air. Finally he's able to muster up the courage to open his eyes and look at his attacker. Upon seeing the face he begins shaking his head violently from side to side muttering 'no, please, no.' The kneeling man grabs the other man by the collar of the shirt and picks him up his feet. He again pushes him against the wall. We're now able to make out more features of the man behind this attack. He's tall, firmly built, brown hair, and wearing a large black coat. He reaches underneath the coat and holding his victim still he brings out a wooden baseball bat. The man on the wall begins to yell.
Man: No! Come on! I haven't done anything to you!
A familiar voice responds.
So, you do know me. I thought so. I bet your dad taught you well.
We have circled our camera around and can see plainly now that Jonny Fly is holding the baseball bat and pressing the other man against the wall.
Rumor has it, you've joined the family business, Michael. John and Jack Ridder's right hand man, Anthony Russo's little boy is all grown up.
I'm a student at NYU! I don't even talk to that sick bastard anymore. My mom and I moved out years ago.
Well that's inconvenient, because I need to talk to him. In fact, Michael, I need to use you to send a message to daddy.
That's fine! I'll do it, just don't hurt me. I'm not responsible for anything that has happened to you. I don't associate with my father or his friends.
Don't lie to me, son. I know everything about you. You are the person who can get me what I want. You're that person because your dad is positioning you to take over the Ridder's business. You're the chosen one. You're the one who is supposed to reunite the group.
What? Are you kidding me? You're crazy! I'm an art history major! I want to become a professor for Christ sake!
I'm curious, what were your plans for me when you took power? Were you personally going to get your hands dirty, or were you just going to let your dad deal with me?
Seriously man, I have no idea what you're talking about. I only know who you are because...everyone knows who you are. When I was little all my dad talked about was you and problems you were causing. I grew up in some fucked up mafia-type family. I've spent years in counseling trying to forget how I was brought up. This is exactly why!
Fly let's go of his hold on Michael Russo. With that same hand he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a picture. He holds it in front of Russo; staring straight into his eyes. Russo looks at the picture, smiles, straightens out his stance, and returns Fly's glare.
You are good, Jonny. You're too good. What you need to do is drop this front as a professional wrestler and come work for me. I don't give a shit about Jack and John Ridder. You belong in this line of work. Stop fighting it.
I don't think so. Like I said, Michael, I need to use you to send a message.
Fly tucks the picture back into his jacket pocket.
Considering my predicament, it appears I'm at your service. What can I do for you?
Fly smiles and looks down at the baseball bat in his hand.
Nothing. You are the message.
With those words, in one absurdly quick movement Fly raises the baseball bat and brings it down over the head of Michael Russo as hard as he can. Michael Russo is to slow to react and receives the brunt of the blow, crumbling to the ground with blood running down his forehead onto the pavement. Fly looks down at his victim and smiles.
Tell your dad to come find me, and that he better bring his entire fucking army with him.
Fly pushes his bat back underneath his jacket and takes back out the picture. He looks at it one more time, and then drops it on top of the barely conscious, but alive, Michael Russo. The picture falls right-side up, allowing the camera to zoom in on the image. The picture is taken at what looks like an outdoor cafe. There are four people sitting at a table. One of them we can clearly see is Michael Russo. Russo is seemingly in the middle of yelling at the person next to him, and is pointing at a folder that is lying on the table. We can make out the label on this folder which reads 'The End of Jonny Fly.' The scene fades out zoomed in on those words.
SCENE ENDS
SCENE BEGINS
The scene begins with a casually dressed Jonny Fly sitting in a chair in the middle of a stage. We've seen this exact scene before. There are cameras surrounding Fly in each direction, and an empty chair next to him. A man dressed in a suit walks onto the stage and shakes hands with Fly before taking the seat. Noises of camera turning on are heard, and people around the stage stop moving and take their place. We hear someone yell 'We're live!' and the cameras begin rolling. Our scene switches to a camera looking directly toward Fly as the man next to him begins to speak.
Welcome back! I'm Tim Devine and this is another edition of Wrestling Weekly, your source for the most updated news and information around the wrestling industry! We're joined again today by WCF Superstar Jonny Fly...
Devine turns from facing the cameras to looking at Fly.
...and let me tell you, Jonny, I'm a bit surprised that you were able to make it today.
The camera gets a close up on Fly, who not even twenty-four hours ago competed in War Games against Corey Black, Greenfever, Jay Price, and D-Day. Fly looks completely unscathed except for a small strip bandage over his forehead where Greenfever dug a switch blade into his skull. Fly looks questioning at Devine, and responds.
Let it be known to the world that I scheduled this interview weeks ago, knowing full well I would be walking out of that match yesterday ready to go again tomorrow night at Slam. I told everyone earlier in the week I would walk out of that cage on my own two feet. That's exactly what happened.
Your team did lose...
Team isn't the right word, Tim. Team is a term of collectivism. Losing is not what we did collectively. Gage Gannon lost. Unfortunately, Odin Balfore's dumb ass picked him for the 'team.' I dominated an entire ring by my damn self from the moment I entered the match. It's a pity my team couldn't keep up.
There has been some thought that your insistence on fighting Gage, as well as your opponents, softened and distracted Gage enough to allow Corey Black to get him to submit last night. How do you respond to these claims?
I'm supposed to care about this? It's very simple, Tim. It's War Games. You never tap, you never submit. If Gage Gannon's defense is that I beat him up too badly to fight off Corey Black, then he's in the wrong business. There is absolutely no excuse for him tapping. None. He cost me that match. At Slam, he's going to get his punishment for it.
Another item that got buzz going into War Games was your reported slip-up regarding the name of the event, XIII. In your televised appearance earlier in the week you refereed to the event as VIII a few times, earning quite a bit of hostility from your opponents.
Was it really a slip-up, Tim?
Fly smiles, causing Tim to sit back in his seat and think about the question.
I guess I don't know, was it?
Wouldn't it be kind of funny if that was intentional and then my opponents ran around calling ME dumb? That would be fucking hilarious, wouldn't it? Did I not tell them I don't give a shit about the event and the history of it they all want to shove down my throat? These guys just have a stick up their ass because they know I don't respect them, or their sacred little event XIII. Let me tell you what the fuckin' slip-up of the week was. That dumbass D-Day literally said that I haven't faced anyone in the WCF worth a shit. That's why until yesterday I hadn't lost; because I haven't faced a good wrestler yet. I haven't faced anyone with the 'skill' of a WCF World Champion! D-Day said that!
I BEAT HIM.
Apparently without realizing it, that stupid fuck literally called himself 'not a good wrestler' and someone 'without the skill of a World Champion.' After hearing that I was giggling my ass all the way to Iowa. He's right, too. He is fucking terrible. Beating him means nothing for my career. He nailed it. Way to go.
Well what...
I'M NOT DONE! Yeah, Tim, there was more dumb shit said leading up to XIII. I now feel compelled to comment on it. Let's take Corey Black this time and allow D-Day some time to rest his vagina from that slamming.
Fly reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper and holds it up from the camera to zoom in on. The paper reads 'Johnny Fly sucks' and is signed by Corey Black.
I took this from a fan at XIII. They showed it to me, we shared a good laugh at his expense, and then I took this from him to show everyone tonight. Apparently, Corey Black can't spell my name. Cute. Yet, he thinks he can get over on others for 'mistakes.' What are we, Black, eighth graders? Greenfever is no better, petty little bitches, both of them. Too fucking retarded to even realize I'm mocking them.
But, this isn't the only thing our 'fearless locker room leader' fucked up. No, he's way too good at that to leave us wanting more. Black..literally..said that he beat everyone on his way to the top. Uh, whatthefuckwhat? NO. Corey Black came back to WCF from a little séance, beat Ryan Blake, and who wouldn't? Then had a couple matches that ended in disqualification where he was fucking terrible and then, boom, World Title shot. Then..boom..barely won. Then..boom..he beat everyone on his way to top! Revisionist history is for bitches. I haven't been around long, but I was around for this crap festival. Black should be a man and say he got handpicked because everyone else sucks and you have a long history with the company. I might even be able to respect that. Regardless, Black is nothing more than a placeholder until guys like me are deemed to have been around long enough to 'earn' their shot. I have no qualms with that, but let's cut the 'Corey Black is good' act. He's trying like hell to make that portrayal, but he's just not. It's a sham. As the 'leader' he should take offense to this. I hope he does. I'd love a chance to soften him up for NVL. Truth is, he's too much of a pussy to let it happen.
Black had a lot to say about you as he was on his way into the arena last night. Would you like the opportunity to those comments here?
I guess people still don't truly understand me, yet. I don't mind being the target of verbal attacks. Considering how I talk to them, it's expected...and encouraged. I love making people eat their words. I LOVE that Corey Black spent most of his time on camera yesterday telling me exactly how he feels. When I'm on television, like right now, I have no problem being straightforward about how I feel about everyone else. I AM arrogant, but why shouldn't I be? If Corey Black feels the same way about himself, for whatever reason, that's great. However, he could do a much better job of it. Black was just filling space, yesterday. Seriously, he went on some ridiculous tirade about how he thinks I'm going to quit when I lose. Then he took it back and said I could prove him wrong, then he said 'no, you'll probably quit.' What the fuck? REALLY? This is the shit we commend him for? THAT is supposed to hurt my feelings and make me run off? That weak ass shit? Yeah, I'm going to go with no. I'm not going anywhere. I'll see Corey again eventually, and I won't be weighed down by Gage Gannon and Odin Balfore when it happens.
Let's bring this back to Gage Gannon. He's your opponent at Slam with the Television Title on the line. He made some comments after the match was over yesterday, have you had a chance to see them?
Yep, I seen them. He's a real tough guy limping around after costing our team the match and throwing around blind threats. Is there anyone else who watched Gage wrestle yesterday who thinks this is a waste of my fucking time? I'm really going to have to reevaluate making open challenges around here if this is the fluff I get back. I bet Odin Balfore is laughing his ass off in his hospital bed for bringing this clown into the mix. I asked for challengers; I WANT challenges. I don't want Gage Gannon. I want better. Every single week I ask for someone to get off their ass and shut me up. Every week I get...Gage Gannon's. Every week I beat...Gage Gannon's. There's nothing more to see here. There are no words that are going to change the outcome of this match. I'm going to win. I'm going to defend that fuckin' Television title, and I'm going to await patiently for the next card in the hopes that I'm past this bullshit.
I want Gage to know that my strategy last night was to simply exclude him from the match. I was comfortable fighting everyone off by myself. I simply didn't want Gage to fuck it up for all of us. He did. He failed miserably. My strategy didn't work, and it's the only thing I regret about the match. Odin gave us this hand to work with, so he shares the blame. I entered into this match because I'll never turn down a good fight. I asked my opponents to bring their best. What you watched yesterday was two out of four people hold their weight. Two against four is what it amounted to. That fucking pisses me off. When I get angry, as hard as it might be to imagine, I become even better. Gage is one of those who didn't pull his weight, and lucky for me, I get to see him tomorrow. Usually I win matches because, well, because I'm just plain more skilled than my opponent. Tomorrow, that match is more personal than that now. Gage Gannon separates himself from the normal worthless Television Title contender because he's cost me something, and that's going to cost him. I don't know where Gage is from, but allow me to explain this one more time for him, and for everyone...
The camera zooms in on Fly.
This is the era of Jonny Fly. I am The Dynasty. I am the future of this company. I am the man everyone will answer to. I don't accept the outcome of that match last night, and I don't accept Gage's effort in it. He's unquestionably going to pay for it at Slam tomorrow night. The same can be applied to Black, Greenfever, Price, EVERYONE. When you watch me tomorrow, remember these words. Remember what you are seeing, the example that I am making of Gage. It applies indefinitely to you all. When my match with Gage is over, and I am crowned as the winner, I highly recommend he find the nearest hole and bury himself in it. Your time is up, Gage. Your deemed unworthy of even the Television Title, you can't compete even at the substandard level of Corey Black, Greenfever, Jay Price, and D-Day. You are worthless. You have no future in this company, or this industry. I don't enjoy having to reach down to face you, but I owe you this. My sights are so much higher than you...you can't even imagine where I'll be in six more months. My ability is being wasted having to throw you around...again. Just end it, Gage. Follow your buddy Balfore into retirement. Disappear. My reign is unfolding here in WCF and you are incapable of even being a speed bump along the way.
This isn't much an interview anymore, but allow me to ask; what's next after Gage Gannon if you truly do retain your title?
That's not for me to decide. I will say there was too much talk about the quality of my opponents leading up to XIII. I don't pick these people, I just beat them all as they are lined up in front of me. I've challenged anyone who wants to face me that I'm more than willing. Instead, certain individuals would rather sit behind their trophy cases and criticize me. Perhaps a trip through my title history would do them some good. I'll face anyone, Tim. I don't respect a god damn person here and part of that is that I've said this exact thing for eight weeks now. I'll face anyone. All I get is Gage Gannon out of it. Thrilling stuff. I know why, don't misunderstand me. I know nobody wants to face me. Who would? I have this company by the throat right now.
Is there anything else you want to say to wrap this up?
Yeah. I owe Greenfever a switch blade to the face. Whenever he's reborn the next time, I'll be waiting. Also, I owe Odin Balfore a non-so-pleasant hospital visit. I'll get to that very soon. Lastly, I hope Gage gets his leg all bandaged up. I don't want any fucking excuses for what is about to occur tomorrow.
Fly stands up, looks quickly one last time at the cameras and then walks off the stage. Tim Devine watches him leave...
Well, I guess that is all from here. Thanks to Jonny for..stopping by. This has been another edition of Wrestling Weekly, goodnight!
The scene fades out on Devine as stares into the camera.
SCENE ENDS
