Post by Steve Catt on Jul 17, 2007 10:35:22 GMT -5
:::Fade in to Steve Carr pacing around a hotel lobby and talking to himself, seemingly unaware of the camera.:::
Steve Carr: I don't believe it. I don't believe it!
:::The lobby check-in does have a few employees scurrying back and forth behind the desk, but they ignore Steve's outburst. He continues.:::
Steve: Hellz Angel. After all this time. Why is he here? What does he think he's doing? I finally start getting back on track, and he just waltzes in here and throws everything off. He's ruined my plans, me, the guy that made him a star. Is it so damn much to ask to be left alone? To fight for the World Championship without complications? Why can't he mind his own business?
:::He looks down at his feet. After several seconds, he raises his head again, walks over to a couch and flops down on it. He props his elbow up on the furniture's arm and brings his hand up to rest his forehead in it, covering his eyes.:::
Steve: Who am I kidding? I know exactly why he's here. He's here because I'm here. That's the way it's always been. Some people would say Hellz Angel is the arch-enemy of Outcast or Creeping Death. That might be true, but apparently, I'm his. Those two have both won multiple World Championships. I haven't even truly won one, and it's because of him. He's always been in my way.
:::He takes his head out of his hand and looks up, acknowledging the camera for the first time.:::
Steve: Maybe I've been looking at this the wrong way. If I have to go through him to get to the World Title, then so be it. After all, if I can't beat him, who some would see as a has-been who hasn't-been for over two years, then they would see me as unworthy of a title shot. But some people only see a former World Champion, and if -- no, when I beat him, that shoots me straight back up to the main event. And I'm sure Seth Lerch is one of those people.
:::He stands up and starts pacing again, but less manically this time, his thoughts less confused and more purposeful.:::
Steve: This is my chance to put the ghosts of the past away forever. To take out the thorn that had buried itself in my side. After all, the Colts had to finally beat their nemesis the Patriots to win the Super Bowl. The Red Sox had to finally beat the Yankees to win the World Series. I'm not much of a baseball fan, but I know that Hellz Angel, a New Yorker, will appreciate the irony of that when I beat him. Even Mike Ragnal had to beat Bobby Cairo, although that was on a much lesser scale than this. Now I can't wait. This is going to be sweet.
:::Suddenly, Hank Brown bursts into the lobby.:::
Hank: Sorry I'm late.
Steve: Late? For what?
Hank: I'm supposed to interview you about your match with Davey Boone.
Steve: Davey Boone? Who cares about Davey Boone?
Hank: Well, the viewers!
Steve: They won't anymore, soon enough. It's going to be my time again. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go think...but don't worry. You'll get your interview.
:::He walks off towards the rooms. Hank sighs and puts his head down, then makes a signal for the cameraman to cut. Fade out.:::
Steve Carr: I don't believe it. I don't believe it!
:::The lobby check-in does have a few employees scurrying back and forth behind the desk, but they ignore Steve's outburst. He continues.:::
Steve: Hellz Angel. After all this time. Why is he here? What does he think he's doing? I finally start getting back on track, and he just waltzes in here and throws everything off. He's ruined my plans, me, the guy that made him a star. Is it so damn much to ask to be left alone? To fight for the World Championship without complications? Why can't he mind his own business?
:::He looks down at his feet. After several seconds, he raises his head again, walks over to a couch and flops down on it. He props his elbow up on the furniture's arm and brings his hand up to rest his forehead in it, covering his eyes.:::
Steve: Who am I kidding? I know exactly why he's here. He's here because I'm here. That's the way it's always been. Some people would say Hellz Angel is the arch-enemy of Outcast or Creeping Death. That might be true, but apparently, I'm his. Those two have both won multiple World Championships. I haven't even truly won one, and it's because of him. He's always been in my way.
:::He takes his head out of his hand and looks up, acknowledging the camera for the first time.:::
Steve: Maybe I've been looking at this the wrong way. If I have to go through him to get to the World Title, then so be it. After all, if I can't beat him, who some would see as a has-been who hasn't-been for over two years, then they would see me as unworthy of a title shot. But some people only see a former World Champion, and if -- no, when I beat him, that shoots me straight back up to the main event. And I'm sure Seth Lerch is one of those people.
:::He stands up and starts pacing again, but less manically this time, his thoughts less confused and more purposeful.:::
Steve: This is my chance to put the ghosts of the past away forever. To take out the thorn that had buried itself in my side. After all, the Colts had to finally beat their nemesis the Patriots to win the Super Bowl. The Red Sox had to finally beat the Yankees to win the World Series. I'm not much of a baseball fan, but I know that Hellz Angel, a New Yorker, will appreciate the irony of that when I beat him. Even Mike Ragnal had to beat Bobby Cairo, although that was on a much lesser scale than this. Now I can't wait. This is going to be sweet.
:::Suddenly, Hank Brown bursts into the lobby.:::
Hank: Sorry I'm late.
Steve: Late? For what?
Hank: I'm supposed to interview you about your match with Davey Boone.
Steve: Davey Boone? Who cares about Davey Boone?
Hank: Well, the viewers!
Steve: They won't anymore, soon enough. It's going to be my time again. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go think...but don't worry. You'll get your interview.
:::He walks off towards the rooms. Hank sighs and puts his head down, then makes a signal for the cameraman to cut. Fade out.:::
