Post by Deleted on Jan 6, 2016 20:01:31 GMT -5
Part 1: EL OH EL (The only part I need..cause it’s Adam Young)
The scene opens up on a shot of Spencer backstage shortly after the start of Slam. He takes a break from wrapping athletic tape around his wrists to address the camera.
Spencer: Enough description for ya, marks? I mean, that’s about what a cabbage ass cunt like Adam Young uses on a weekly basis, so fuck it right?
He grins a bit before looking at his shoulders followed by his waist before looking back towards the lens.
Spencer: Obviously, I don’t have gold in my possession at the moment and you know, that’s fine. The People’s Choice have fought like champions both in victory and defeat and look at what the result is, Spencer Adams announced as one of the first four participants in the first ever Final Destination match, a huge matchup where I’ll have the opportunity to walk away with a shot at the biggest prize in the company at the time of my choosing. It’s a new year and that means a whole lot of new opportunities for the antidote and the people. Some battles I’ve won and some battles I’ve lost, but there was never a match where the fire wasn’t there and that’s why that climb to the very fucking top of the company continues every single week.
Speaking of this final destination match, where was Adam Young among these four announced participants? Adam Young is supposed to be this super valuable, badass fucking veteran around here, so why wasn’t he announced right away? Seth and the rest of his creative team should have been jumping on that hype train from the start given that he’s such a priceless asset to this company. According to you, you’re the better of the two of us, so why is it that I’m in and you aren’t? Maybe..just maybe..the bookers knew what the rest of the world knows as well, maybe they know that Mr. Yung Adam is neither young, nor talented.
I’m just going to call you Adam from now on because of that. You don’t deserve your own last name, so just drop that shit already. Basically, you were a lie and a false advertisement since you were born. To me, being young in this profession means that you’re either a prospect with at least some degree of potential or an athlete in their prime. (Let’s just call you Adam Bust). Mr. Bust, for every single comment you make about my in ring performances and every single comparison you try to make about the difference in our talent levels, you just continue to spiral further and further down this twisted path of delusion, a path where you’ve somehow actually convinced yourself that you’re capable of beating anything more than the average lower card janitor.
Can you tell me the last thing you did around here that actually mattered? I’m not talking about the last victory that was given to you as a joke or the pretend importance that you pump yourself up on, I mean when have you ever really contributed in any way other than being a meat shield for those who are more talented than yourself? It’s not like you’ve been going out there and racking up any victories that mean anything. The only time you look even remotely competent is against the likes of BioWalker. People like me, we go out and bust our ass against the very best in this company in order to get to the level that they’re at.
Now why am I still here? I mean, I’ve already proven that I can easily dispose of you in a match. You’d think I would just go about my upper card business and leave you to be pathetic at the bottom, but that’s not the case yet. I’m not the reason that we’re still in this little “rivalry”. (See, I put it in parenthesis because you’re not serious competition for me.) It was you who wanted to go on about how Bad News Benson coming out to fuck you up was the reason that you lost. You continue to run your mouth as if I’m not undoubtedly lightyears ahead of you. See, I’ve got my shot at the end of the month. I’m already a fucking lock for that shit, so for now, I think I can spare a week to fucking destroy you once again.
Honestly Adam, you aren’t on my level. You never have been and you never will be. Every single person in the back knows that except for you. This shit is like the Philadelphia 76ers trying to step to the Golden State Warriors, it’s a case of one side containing a shooting fucking star and the other owning “prospects” and a “We’ll get’em one day attitude.” That’s exactly what you are. Philly is a team who hasn’t held shit in decades and Adam Bust is a man whose only claim to fame is a tag title reign that nobody seems to remember much about or really care about at all.
You’re a box of bad ideas with no direction and an incompetent pilot. It’s like they let a blind, bipolar, fucking idiot pilot the aircraft. We all just get to sit back and watch you nosedive into a dark and endless plain of obscurity. You’re the fucking guy who ten years after I cut this promo, will only ever be featured in a “Where are they now?” article after they’ve completely run out of ideas. I bet they put one of those things up for Professor Coach before they come knocking on the door of your double wide, you white trash nobody. You’re little more than a disappointment to everyone that’s ever had the misfortune of hearing you speak, everyone that has to live with the fact that Adam Bust was the one swimmer who made it from point A to point B. (Point A being your father’s barely functioning groin and point B being his sister’s womb.)
Now how’s that partnership with Raymond Hatcher going? You still feel confident after going from me nearly ending you to being beaten by Katherine Phoenix and Logan who barely gives a shit about what he’s doing anymore? This alliance makes me wonder if Raymond Hatcher has caught onto the fact that you’re a fucking succubus or if he just let’s you keep the wig on as you attempt to fellate your way to greatness. Those attempts are failing pretty fucking badly by the way. Next time you stick a gentlemen’s cock in your yapper, remember that he’s trying to use you in order to achieve climax. Just thought I’d tell you that since your only hope at relevance has been a grumpy loser with a case of blue balls that have only gotten worse since you started calling him daddy.
You’ve finally got your shot at me, Adam. There won’t be any run-ins or any bullshit. I’m going out there tonight to prove to you once and for all that you are a fucking nobody. Tonight I will go out there and pick myself up a nice predictable victory and leave you choking on your own blood and worthlessness. This is it, the grudge match that you have insisted on being cornered into competing in (and losing). After tonight, I’ll go on with my journey to greatness and you’ll be free to compete in unimportant matches against other unimportant people like yourself. This is the last favor, the last week of enlightenment, and the last charitable placement on the card that you’ll get out of me. This is where it all ends.
Spencer continues to wrap up his wrists as he heads off towards the locker room and the scene fades to black.
