Post by Perfeckshion on May 31, 2007 12:27:06 GMT -5
Webster's dictionary will define perfect as entirely without any flaws, defects, or shortcomings. Flaws are simply in the eye of the beholder. Defects are simply in the eye of the beholder. Shortcomings are simply in the eye of the beholder. Wrestlers are portrayed as badasses with no boundaries. Wresters are portrayed as Gods with Ruthian power. Wrestlers are portrayed as malicious men. Simply put, I fall under the stereotypical wrestler deemed perfect by big business marketers.
My boundaries know no limitations. My power is unparalleled. My malice is unmatched. I am Perfeckshion.
My boundaries know no limitations. My power is unparalleled. My malice is unmatched. I am Perfeckshion.
(The scene opens with a shot of a buff, tan, male bodybuilder in a tank top getting a drink of water. The scene is obviously a gym, as the sound of the metal clanking against each other is heard.)
Narrator: (In an Alec Baldwin-esque voice)
There he is: Perfeckshion. He's hip. He's fresh. He's young. He's the new face of wrestling, and this Sunday at Slam, he is going to make his present felt. He will set forth on his mission to begin "The Perfecked Era"
(The tan man stands tall and wipes water from his lips. He rolls his neck and begins stretching his arms.)
Narrator:
The females love him. Males envy him. Like a teddy bear, he knows how to please.
Buff Guy:
What the fuck do you mean like a teddy bear?
Narrator:
Not you, jackass. Move.
(The buff guy moves, and we see an obese, pale, nerdy white kid at the squat rack, squatting the bar. He has on a baby blue ADIDAS headband, a black WCF wrestling tank top exposing his fat arms, and blue basketball shorts. His sports goggles are fogged up as he has a strenuous look on his face.)
Narrator:
This is Perfeckshion. Part of the talent influx the WCF has brought in, Perfeckshion is scheduled to wrestle on Sunday Slam against four other rookies. Perfeckshion can be seen today at the local 24 Hour Fitness at the squat rack, working on his explosiveness.
Perfeckshion:
Arrrghhhh!!!!!!
(Perfeckshion finishes with his set and places the bar back. He picks up an Aquafina water bottle next to the rack and takes a sip of water. Perfeckshion walks over to the water fountain and refills his water bottle. There is a fresh stack of white towels next to the water fountain, and Perfeckshion grabs one. He wipes off his head and stuffs it in his pants for a second, before bringing the towel back out. He throws the towel on the ground and walks off camera.)
(The camera quickly cuts to a new scene, one with Perfeckshion standing in front of a treadmill occupied by a teenage Asian kid. The teenage Asian kid has on a gray shirt and banana yellow shorts, is sweating profusely, has messy dark hair, and nerdy glasses.)
Narrator:
Perfeckshion often goes to the gym. He tries to stay in shape because he knows a malfunction in health could lead to a malfunction in the ring. Usually, Perfeckshion will go to the gym alone. Perfeckshion does not like to be distracted, because he feels his daily goals need be accomplished. But today, Perfeckshion has brought to the gym his friend Wang. Wang is a smart Asian kid, like most are. And while Wang is smart and has a wonderful personality, he has little success with the ladies.
Perfeckshion:
Come on, pencil pusher! This treadmill crap is for pussies! Why don't you be a man like Kimmy Jong-Il and start trying to blow stuff up, like your arms?
Wang:
Don't (puff) you (puff) have (puff) a (puff) match (puff) this (puff) week?
Perfeckshion:
Yes, Wang, I do. The Perfecked One fights against four other new comers this week.
Wang:
Aren't (puff) you (puff) nervous?
Perfeckshion:
Wang, we could sit here and talk all we want. I could give analysis and breakdowns for every one of these so called opponents. I can try to belittle them. I can call "The Mayne Event" "The Lame Event". I can say that Jason Andersen is no more a killing machine than my goldfish, Petey. I can say Lance Ryan is Canadian, but that's not his fault. It is, however, his fault he is emo. I can say that Jesse Blake should be in ICU getting treatment for his cancer, but Wang, you're Asian, so chances are you can fix him after I break him. It's like I drew the short stick, literally. A Cancer patient. A psycho-path. An arrogant prick. An emo-Canadian. It's like a Steven Segal storyline gone haywire. So Wang, to answer your question, no, I am not nervous. I feel confident. Besides, Wang, I'll have the fans on my side because everyone wants me to win. Why? Because I am them. I am a fan living his dream. I am a pro wrestler. I worked hard, Wang. It is why I am Perfeckshion.
(Perfeckshion places his hands on his side and smiles, nodding his head. Wang keeps running. The two keep talking, but we can not hear now as the sound fades out to hear the narrator's voice.)
Narrator:
Don't mistake Perfeckshion for some cocky, arrogant, up and coming son of a bitch momma's boy who's been handed everything on a silver platter and expects to be at the top now. Perfeckshion knows the definition of perseverance and patience, and knows that his loyalty will eventually transcend into opportunity. Perfeckshion knows he has much to prove, because nobody respects him. Does this bother him? No. He knows his job right now is to entertain fans and work his way up. He may not be bothered by the lack of respect, but his confidence tells his heart and mind that he will someday have the respect of everyone in the business.
(The scene fades out and quickly fades back in at a McDonald's restraunt, where Wang and Perfeckshion are eating. We see that Perfeckshion is eating a Double Quarter Pounder with cheese, while Wang is having an Asian salad. Perfeckshion is mandhandling the burger, barely chewing. He has plenty of ketchup on his face, but he doesn't care.)
Wang: (In a pussy soft Asian voice)
Shaun, don't you think that eating that kind of food after a workout is a bit redundant?
Perfeckshion: (Mouth full)
Pshh! Renundant? Haw, Wayne-guh! Meh boffy is grown and espandin' right now, so the more I ate the buffer I git!
Wang: (Bows down)
Oh, ok.
(Perfeckshion takes a sip out of the large McDonald's cup and washes down his mouthful of slaughtered cow and genetically modified microwaved mashed potatoes.)
Perfeckshion:
Is the salad as good as it is in China?
Wang:
It's ok. I like it.
(Perfeckshion nods his head for a moment. A frown comes across his face and he violently shakes his head.)
Perfeckshion:
Wang, you skinny little piece of cat shit, you need to bulk up. Here have a bite of my burger.
(Perfeckshion shoves the burger in Wang's face, who backs off. Perfeckshion pulls the half eaten burger back.)
Perfeckshion:
Wang, you want a girlfriend, you need the body. I have the body. I mean, seriously Wang, stop reading. Is your dick bigger than your IQ? If not, you have problems.
Wang:
My IQ is very high, and I am proud of that.
Perfeckshion:
But your dick gets less action than Jesse Blake, and he has cancer! Wang, if I had your talent, I could easily have laid every girl in high school.
Wang:
How?
Perfeckshion:
I'd tell them I'd do their homework. But I can get any girl that I want now. I'm a wrestler.
Wang:
Could you get her?
(Wang points to a gorgeous brunette girl wearing a pink fuzzy outfit that is skin tight. Her ass is sticking out from the counter.)
Perfeckshion: (Throwing his napkin)
She ain't my type.
Wang:
Why?
Perfeckshion:
She's a slut. I fuck women with class, and even without those last two words in the sentence, I'd have more than Seth Lerch.
Wang:
Oh.
Perfeckshion:
Plus I don't have sex within 96 hours of a match.
Wang:
Why?
Perfeckshion:
Because, Wang, if my penis is sore, my midsection is exposed. If I get kicked in the balls, the pain is nearly tripled. I won't put myself at risk like that.
Wang:
Oh. Do you have any special plans during the match on Sunday?
Perfeckshion:
No. I'm just going to go down to that ring and wrestle. I'm going to wrestle the way wrestling is supposed to be. No more shitty gimmicks. No more sell-out curtain jerkers. No more, Wang. I'm going to go technical. I'm going to go up top. I'm going to go powerful. Wang, I'm going to expose my opponents weakness, and Buddha dammit, Wang, I'm going to win!
(By now, Perfeckshion is standing on top of the table, raising his arms in triumph. Everyone in the McDonald's is staring at him, but he seems not to care.)
Wang:
Wow, you seem inspired.
Perfeckshion:
I know. I went to inspirationalspeeches.com and altered a few lines. Come on, let's go to EB Games and buy a new computer game.
(The camera begins to fade and zoom out as the two things leave McDonald's.)
Narrator:
And so that's the beginning of the saga of Perfeckshion. He may be young, but gosh darn it, he has heart, confidence, and determination. And if you know anything about wrestling, those three make for a deadly combination.
(The scene fades to black.)[/center][/i][/color]