Post by Deleted on May 20, 2007 13:17:13 GMT -5
The wolves in the throne room are guarding the master's quarters. Cairo will be arriving shortly and the canine creed shall not disappoint the man with the T-bone steaks. Ah yes, raw meat. The nectar of the gods. The lifeblood of a million empires. Today will be an especially enchanting encounter, as Cairo will be unleashing his latest stream of intellectual diadems referencing such topics as Vice, Ragnal and the WCF World Title. Yes indeed, Cairo will be coming out with full guns blazing on this bright, sunshiny day. In the meantime, Cairo enjoys a cheese Danish and a tall glass of orange juice fresh from the neighborhood bodega as he peruses the latest issue of some right-wing extremist newsletter. Cairo makes a handful of quizzical remarks regarding Davey Ortega and illegal immigration before finishing his Danish and grabbing a large hand-woven basket filled to the brim with steaks. Cairo precedes to the throne room and dishes out the nutritious slabs of cow carcass to the ravenous group of carnivores that await. Cairo compliments the bloodthirsty brood on a job well done and then dismisses them. Cairo takes his place upon the throne of thorns and adorns his crown of chaos before addressing the congregation of the powerless. Cairo clears his throat, then begins to speak.
Bobby Cairo: It seems that Daniel Vice is feeling unloved and unappreciated. It seems that Daniel Vice is wiping the tears away from his eyes as he drinks himself away to a rambling, incoherent mess. You see Daniel Vice doesn't just want to be worshipped by the masses. Oh no, Daniel Vice wants more than that. Daniel Vice wants to be one of the cool kids. Daniel Vice wants to be one of the special breed. Daniel Vice wants to be one of the elite. Not just some elitist asshole like Bruce Springsteen or Simon Cowell, mind you, but one of the truly elite like the current WCF Television Champion. Well you know something, Daniel? You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometime you find you get what you need. It's pretty simple, Daniel. What you need is a good old-fashioned ass whooping. The Hardcore Champion is in dire need of a lesson in humility. You see, kids, Daniel Vice likes to pretend that he is the showstoppah, the icon, the Heartbreak Kid, but if any of that were true why would Daniel's sister Janine dump him like so many sacks of bagels to go have sex with Ulysses? The fact is that Daniel Vice is somewhat inconsequential to the grand scheme of things here in WCF. WCF doesn't need a Hardcore Champion; in fact nobody quite understands exactly what the Hardcore Champion does. He's kind of like a United States Congressman in that sense. So really what this all comes down to is that Daniel Vice is mere window dressing. In fact, Daniel Vice is low-fat window dressing, the kind of low-fat window dressing that lacks all of that bold and zesty flavor that we all know and love. Daniel, the truth is that you don't amaze me anymore, son. I used to think that you could be something special, but goddamnit you've let me down, boy. You're as stale as a 25-cent Limp Bizkit CD that some 5-year old kid is picking up out of the bargain bin at Achmed's Discount Records & Things. Ah well, perhaps it's for the better. WCF needs a few good stepping stones for the superstars of tomorrow to get their feet wet and it looks like you're just the man for that job, Daniel. Congratulations and furthermore I just want you to know that I shall enjoy thrashing you as always. Love, Bobby Cairo.
Cairo clears his throat once again before strategically adjusting his balls. Cairo looks to be in good spirits on this day with his shoulder-length black hair slicked back like so many Razor Ramons and his handlebar mustache standing straight up like a fully erect wang in the presence of a naked Jessica Alba or Biel, take your pick. Cairo's eyeballs are certainly bloodshot, but not to the point of being a foreboding tale of excess and addiction for all of the young people to enjoy on the True Hollywood Stories. Suddenly, Cairo very dramatically jumps out of his throne and hoists his WCF Television Title above his head for all to admire. Cairo calmly sits back down upon his throne and rubs his mustache before continuing along his train of thought.
Bobby Cairo: As far as Michael Ragnal is concerned, I have some choice words for that young man. Hey, Ragnal, you whine and complain about being "screwed" out of victories, but did you ever stop and consider that maybe you just don't have what it takes to be a champion? Sure you have talent, but you don't have the mental toughness to get the job done. I could wrestle you today, tomorrow, next month or next year and it wouldn't make any difference. I would beat you everytime because I am that much better than you. You're not in my class and you're not in my league. I'm tougher than you, I'm smarter than you, and I can outwrestle you. I've been in all-out wars against some of the greatest warriors this sport has ever seen and I've come out on top damn near everytime. I can tell you something right now, Michael. You're not in that class and you never will be. You don't have the passion, son. You don't live and breathe wrestling the way that I do. You're not willing to make the sacrifices and spill your blood the way that I have. This is what separates the great ones from the pretty good. This is what separates Robert H. Cairo from Michael Ragnal. But I don't want you to fret, Michael. I don't want you to lose all hope. Just because you'll never be a champion like me, that doesn't mean that you can't have a nice long career here in the WCF. Take a look at some of the guys that work backstage here in WCF. Barbwirefreak brings Mr. Lerch his coffee every morning. Joey Lights helps to set up the ring every week for Slam. Even former People's Champion Chris Avery unclogs the restroom toilets as part of his janitorial duties at the WCF Arena in beautiful downtown Allegheny, Pennsylvania. My point is that you shouldn't worry about beating me, Michael, because that can never happen. What you should really be concerned with is sending in some applications for your post-wrestling career. In fact I'm prepared to offer you a position right now. How would you like to handle the landscaping duties at my Connecticut mansion? I already promised the job to Lawnmower Jones, but I'm willing to break my promise if you let me touch Sasha's breasts. Think about it, Michael, because I really think that getting out of this violent sport would do you some good. You're just not cut out for it. Let me know what you think, Michael. I'll be eagerly anticipating your response.
Cairo grabs a bottle of turpentine from the root cellar and sets ablaze to a caricature of Johnny Craven. Cairo cackles like a Palestinian as the flames rise higher and higher. Cairo throws some logs onto the fire to insure that it burns long through the night. Cairo changes from his silk pajamas into his wrestling gear and quickly shaves the little bit of hair in between his eyebrows. Cairo has a more urgent tone in his voice as he begins to delve deeper into his preparations for tonight's show.
Bobby Cairo: Speaking of Michael Ragnal as I was several minutes ago, when I beat him last Sunday I earned a World Title shot at Explosion. It's going to be the final match of the WCF Championship Series. This will be my first shot at regaining the World Title since my bitter defeat at the hands of the nefarious JoJo Biggs last May. Now I don't want to get wrapped up in all of this hoopla, because we still have a long way to go until Explosion. But I want everybody to know something. I want everybody to know that Bobby Cairo regaining the World Title is an inevitability. It will happen because you cannot keep the best man down. You can get lucky once in a blue moon, take for example Skyler Striker at War, but luck cannot carry you for the rest of your life. Ultimately the cream rises to the top and the trash levels down to the bottom before being swept out to the ocean and devoured by large predatory creatures. What I'm trying to say is that I've been unfairly scrutinized and second-guessed for certain personal issues that I've had, but along the way I've never lost my faith in myself. I knew that I would rectify those issues and I knew that I would get back into the title hunt. I'm already wearing this 15 pounds of gold around my waist and I'm not done yet. I'll beat Ragnal at Timebomb and I will regain the World Title at Explosion. This is my pledge and do you know why I'm so confident? I'm confident because I know better than anyone just how good I am. I know what I'm capable of and I know that I've barely scratched the goddamn surface. As far as tonight's little tag match is concerned, I'm gonna do what I always do. I'm gonna roll into Allegheny in my pimped out IROC Camaro, I'm gonna systematically dissect Ragnal and Vice, and I'm gonna get myself a goddamned victory. This isn't rocket science, children. I'm Bobby Cairo, you should know the plot by now. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some fishsticks and tater tots on the grill and I need to tend to my bidness. Ya heard?
Cairo makes a large bowel movement and washes his hands before travelling around town on his bicycle and handing out enough fishsticks and tater tots for all of the homeless people in the greater Hartford area to enjoy. Cairo then decides to be a real punk and not give the people tartar sauce for the fishsticks unless they each give him $50, so they start throwing the fishsticks at him like they're darts or something and he gets the hell out of there, but not before farting really loud and proclaiming himself the "king of self-assurance."
Bobby Cairo: It seems that Daniel Vice is feeling unloved and unappreciated. It seems that Daniel Vice is wiping the tears away from his eyes as he drinks himself away to a rambling, incoherent mess. You see Daniel Vice doesn't just want to be worshipped by the masses. Oh no, Daniel Vice wants more than that. Daniel Vice wants to be one of the cool kids. Daniel Vice wants to be one of the special breed. Daniel Vice wants to be one of the elite. Not just some elitist asshole like Bruce Springsteen or Simon Cowell, mind you, but one of the truly elite like the current WCF Television Champion. Well you know something, Daniel? You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometime you find you get what you need. It's pretty simple, Daniel. What you need is a good old-fashioned ass whooping. The Hardcore Champion is in dire need of a lesson in humility. You see, kids, Daniel Vice likes to pretend that he is the showstoppah, the icon, the Heartbreak Kid, but if any of that were true why would Daniel's sister Janine dump him like so many sacks of bagels to go have sex with Ulysses? The fact is that Daniel Vice is somewhat inconsequential to the grand scheme of things here in WCF. WCF doesn't need a Hardcore Champion; in fact nobody quite understands exactly what the Hardcore Champion does. He's kind of like a United States Congressman in that sense. So really what this all comes down to is that Daniel Vice is mere window dressing. In fact, Daniel Vice is low-fat window dressing, the kind of low-fat window dressing that lacks all of that bold and zesty flavor that we all know and love. Daniel, the truth is that you don't amaze me anymore, son. I used to think that you could be something special, but goddamnit you've let me down, boy. You're as stale as a 25-cent Limp Bizkit CD that some 5-year old kid is picking up out of the bargain bin at Achmed's Discount Records & Things. Ah well, perhaps it's for the better. WCF needs a few good stepping stones for the superstars of tomorrow to get their feet wet and it looks like you're just the man for that job, Daniel. Congratulations and furthermore I just want you to know that I shall enjoy thrashing you as always. Love, Bobby Cairo.
Cairo clears his throat once again before strategically adjusting his balls. Cairo looks to be in good spirits on this day with his shoulder-length black hair slicked back like so many Razor Ramons and his handlebar mustache standing straight up like a fully erect wang in the presence of a naked Jessica Alba or Biel, take your pick. Cairo's eyeballs are certainly bloodshot, but not to the point of being a foreboding tale of excess and addiction for all of the young people to enjoy on the True Hollywood Stories. Suddenly, Cairo very dramatically jumps out of his throne and hoists his WCF Television Title above his head for all to admire. Cairo calmly sits back down upon his throne and rubs his mustache before continuing along his train of thought.
Bobby Cairo: As far as Michael Ragnal is concerned, I have some choice words for that young man. Hey, Ragnal, you whine and complain about being "screwed" out of victories, but did you ever stop and consider that maybe you just don't have what it takes to be a champion? Sure you have talent, but you don't have the mental toughness to get the job done. I could wrestle you today, tomorrow, next month or next year and it wouldn't make any difference. I would beat you everytime because I am that much better than you. You're not in my class and you're not in my league. I'm tougher than you, I'm smarter than you, and I can outwrestle you. I've been in all-out wars against some of the greatest warriors this sport has ever seen and I've come out on top damn near everytime. I can tell you something right now, Michael. You're not in that class and you never will be. You don't have the passion, son. You don't live and breathe wrestling the way that I do. You're not willing to make the sacrifices and spill your blood the way that I have. This is what separates the great ones from the pretty good. This is what separates Robert H. Cairo from Michael Ragnal. But I don't want you to fret, Michael. I don't want you to lose all hope. Just because you'll never be a champion like me, that doesn't mean that you can't have a nice long career here in the WCF. Take a look at some of the guys that work backstage here in WCF. Barbwirefreak brings Mr. Lerch his coffee every morning. Joey Lights helps to set up the ring every week for Slam. Even former People's Champion Chris Avery unclogs the restroom toilets as part of his janitorial duties at the WCF Arena in beautiful downtown Allegheny, Pennsylvania. My point is that you shouldn't worry about beating me, Michael, because that can never happen. What you should really be concerned with is sending in some applications for your post-wrestling career. In fact I'm prepared to offer you a position right now. How would you like to handle the landscaping duties at my Connecticut mansion? I already promised the job to Lawnmower Jones, but I'm willing to break my promise if you let me touch Sasha's breasts. Think about it, Michael, because I really think that getting out of this violent sport would do you some good. You're just not cut out for it. Let me know what you think, Michael. I'll be eagerly anticipating your response.
Cairo grabs a bottle of turpentine from the root cellar and sets ablaze to a caricature of Johnny Craven. Cairo cackles like a Palestinian as the flames rise higher and higher. Cairo throws some logs onto the fire to insure that it burns long through the night. Cairo changes from his silk pajamas into his wrestling gear and quickly shaves the little bit of hair in between his eyebrows. Cairo has a more urgent tone in his voice as he begins to delve deeper into his preparations for tonight's show.
Bobby Cairo: Speaking of Michael Ragnal as I was several minutes ago, when I beat him last Sunday I earned a World Title shot at Explosion. It's going to be the final match of the WCF Championship Series. This will be my first shot at regaining the World Title since my bitter defeat at the hands of the nefarious JoJo Biggs last May. Now I don't want to get wrapped up in all of this hoopla, because we still have a long way to go until Explosion. But I want everybody to know something. I want everybody to know that Bobby Cairo regaining the World Title is an inevitability. It will happen because you cannot keep the best man down. You can get lucky once in a blue moon, take for example Skyler Striker at War, but luck cannot carry you for the rest of your life. Ultimately the cream rises to the top and the trash levels down to the bottom before being swept out to the ocean and devoured by large predatory creatures. What I'm trying to say is that I've been unfairly scrutinized and second-guessed for certain personal issues that I've had, but along the way I've never lost my faith in myself. I knew that I would rectify those issues and I knew that I would get back into the title hunt. I'm already wearing this 15 pounds of gold around my waist and I'm not done yet. I'll beat Ragnal at Timebomb and I will regain the World Title at Explosion. This is my pledge and do you know why I'm so confident? I'm confident because I know better than anyone just how good I am. I know what I'm capable of and I know that I've barely scratched the goddamn surface. As far as tonight's little tag match is concerned, I'm gonna do what I always do. I'm gonna roll into Allegheny in my pimped out IROC Camaro, I'm gonna systematically dissect Ragnal and Vice, and I'm gonna get myself a goddamned victory. This isn't rocket science, children. I'm Bobby Cairo, you should know the plot by now. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some fishsticks and tater tots on the grill and I need to tend to my bidness. Ya heard?
Cairo makes a large bowel movement and washes his hands before travelling around town on his bicycle and handing out enough fishsticks and tater tots for all of the homeless people in the greater Hartford area to enjoy. Cairo then decides to be a real punk and not give the people tartar sauce for the fishsticks unless they each give him $50, so they start throwing the fishsticks at him like they're darts or something and he gets the hell out of there, but not before farting really loud and proclaiming himself the "king of self-assurance."
