Post by Deleted on Dec 31, 2013 13:25:06 GMT -5
It's a bitterly cold December morning at a local Kansas City, Missouri dog park. As you look around you can see the few random people walking or jogging with their dog. Off in the distance a man can be seen with one end of a tugging rope in his hand. On the other end you can see a beautiful tan, and white Pit Bull shaking his head wildly attempting to snatch the rope out of the mans hand.
"Come on Rico! Show me how bad you want your tuggie!"
The dog in a move of sheer genius throws himself down with his rope still tightly in his grasp. The rope slips from the mans hand as the dog begins mimicking an Alligators death roll. The man chuckles to himself as he sits down next to the dog who is happily gnawing on his rope. He pats his dog on his side as he look around for a moment.
"Four years ago I walked away from the business I cherish almost more than anything in this world. I got tired of the politics, and the corporate ass kissers. The politics took everything that was pure about this business, and threw it straight into the garbage. I can't speak for everyone who has ever stepped foot into a wrestling ring, but I can say that I myself got into this business to entertain the fans with my athletic ability. I started at the bottom of the pack, and worked my way to the top earning everything I was getting from every organization I had ever been in. Not everyone shares the same passion as I do...they get shit handed to them, because of who they know. I grew tired of it, and I walked away. I quit watching wrestling...hell I quit talking about wrestling. When you take something pure and screw it up it tends to lose its value."
The man stands up, and pulls a leash from his coat pocket. He slips the leash on his dog, and they start walking down a trail in the park.
"January 5th on Slam Bjorn Erikson, Alaska Riley, and myself team up to face James Fatel, Aubree Celeste and David Krink in a no disqualification six person tag match. I know nothing about my team mates, and I know nothing about my opponents. For all I know everyone could be amazing or they could be horrible, but the one factor that I am one hundred percent sure about is that I know what I am capable of. I might be new to WCF, but this is not my first dance. All of my accolades mean nothing here so I won't be talking about them. What I will talk about is how I plan to make my mark here in WCF. I won't settle for piddly bottom feeder shit. I am better than that, and I work hard to be better. You have people here like Zombie McNumbnuts who doesn't appreciate what he has. You have people here who just don't give a shit...I am better than that, and I can and will fucking prove it! James, Aubree and David...I actually feel sorry for you. I feel sorry for you, because you drew the short straw and had to be the sorry shits that face me on Slam!"
As the trail comes to an end the man and his dog come up to a truck. He opens the door, and the dog hops up into the seat.
"I hope my team mates, and opponents are ready for Slam...it will be a long ass night if they ain't..."
The scene fades as he climbs into the truck and closes the door.
"Come on Rico! Show me how bad you want your tuggie!"
The dog in a move of sheer genius throws himself down with his rope still tightly in his grasp. The rope slips from the mans hand as the dog begins mimicking an Alligators death roll. The man chuckles to himself as he sits down next to the dog who is happily gnawing on his rope. He pats his dog on his side as he look around for a moment.
"Four years ago I walked away from the business I cherish almost more than anything in this world. I got tired of the politics, and the corporate ass kissers. The politics took everything that was pure about this business, and threw it straight into the garbage. I can't speak for everyone who has ever stepped foot into a wrestling ring, but I can say that I myself got into this business to entertain the fans with my athletic ability. I started at the bottom of the pack, and worked my way to the top earning everything I was getting from every organization I had ever been in. Not everyone shares the same passion as I do...they get shit handed to them, because of who they know. I grew tired of it, and I walked away. I quit watching wrestling...hell I quit talking about wrestling. When you take something pure and screw it up it tends to lose its value."
The man stands up, and pulls a leash from his coat pocket. He slips the leash on his dog, and they start walking down a trail in the park.
"January 5th on Slam Bjorn Erikson, Alaska Riley, and myself team up to face James Fatel, Aubree Celeste and David Krink in a no disqualification six person tag match. I know nothing about my team mates, and I know nothing about my opponents. For all I know everyone could be amazing or they could be horrible, but the one factor that I am one hundred percent sure about is that I know what I am capable of. I might be new to WCF, but this is not my first dance. All of my accolades mean nothing here so I won't be talking about them. What I will talk about is how I plan to make my mark here in WCF. I won't settle for piddly bottom feeder shit. I am better than that, and I work hard to be better. You have people here like Zombie McNumbnuts who doesn't appreciate what he has. You have people here who just don't give a shit...I am better than that, and I can and will fucking prove it! James, Aubree and David...I actually feel sorry for you. I feel sorry for you, because you drew the short straw and had to be the sorry shits that face me on Slam!"
As the trail comes to an end the man and his dog come up to a truck. He opens the door, and the dog hops up into the seat.
"I hope my team mates, and opponents are ready for Slam...it will be a long ass night if they ain't..."
The scene fades as he climbs into the truck and closes the door.
