Post by "The Real Deal" Jason O'Neal on Jul 19, 2016 23:21:18 GMT -5
:: The screen stutters and spurts static as the transmission feed is being hijacked. Some jobberific match sometime in the past between Stuart Slane and who gives a damn about the other guy. WCF's Network and affiliates make hand over fist money replaying boring matches of this paper champion over and over and over again. Another body slam, a million dollars in the bank. Nitwits around the world watch the garbage and consider it the best of the best. Untouchable even...
As imagined, the cable providers received a higher than expect call volume when the interruption broke. Some WCF technician with one job to do, nearly crapped his pants when the feed was interrupted. The video signal slowly but surely gained strength and we are no longer in Kansas anymore. From the WCF Network and affiliate broadcasting the third predictable move by their champion to a magnificent scene.
A manicured lawn sitting in front a stylish, sleek and modern monster of a house fills the lens. A little feedback, a jump to a top rope maneuver countered by Slane. Signal regained as the scene has shifted again inside a control room...
MAN 1: You heard the man, if this sh*t doesn't last through the end of his speech, they will find your a*s in an ally some f*cking where.
MAN 2: Yes sir, its just that it takes alot to hijack an entire network feed.
MAN 1: Last time I checked, Spencer, he was giving you alot.
:: Spencer, obviously lab geek, but the mountain of a man behind him and barking orders was a sight to behold. Who is he and why is he on the screen...
MAN 1: Just keep it rolling. (He speaks into an ear piece) It's a go. (Back to Spencer) Switch cameras.
:: With a more than encouraging nudge from the massive man, Spencer quickly entered the correct combination of keys to switch the camera. A little more static and sputter, but when the picture became clear, he sat on a bar stool. The camera stood about ten feet from the man facing camera. A custom Olhausen pool table stood adjacent to the scene. New Orleans Saints memorabilia hung around the room. The man... he was wearing a pair of jeans and a wife beater. His hair cut in a fade style, his face memorable and his body toned in all the places to make the ladies take notice. He seemed cocky and arrogant, but with a shrewd and distinguish confidence...
THE MAN: I went through alot of trouble getting on the air tonight. No one knew anything was coming. Hell the network and the pea-brained staff are trying as hard as they can to cut my feed before someone...of any significance sees me. (imitates a child) We can't let Mr. Slane see this... he interrupted his feed. Oh my... (back to normal voice)
I've been on the Indy scene far too long to fill out applications and do things the legit way. If you want me... give me a call... the name is Jason O'Neal. By now, some idiot thinks they found the source of the pirate feed and can shut it down. It is relayed off of at least 10 IP addresses...good luck.
I've sat at home, just like the rest of the fans of WCF. I have watched since it's existence and to see the sad state it is in now just makes me want to hurl. Seriously, a f*cking TV Champion who's accent grinds the gears of every person watching on Television? The guy barely can wrestle. Unless you call that squirming around aimlessly for 20 minutes he does wrestling. This poindexter calls himself the Shine... really...?
:: Jason smirks...
JASON O'NEAL: The new champion... Mr. Stuart Slane. Like I said, I've been watching...waiting anticipating the right moment to make my appearance in the WCF. I thought to myself, 'why not when the WCF has it's weakest champion yet?' It seems all it takes to be champion around here is to lube up and bend over. While he got the shaft from management in order to get the shot, subsequently he is giving the shaft to every one of the WCF fans who have to watch the bullsh*t he produces on a daily basis. Honestly, and quite literally no one gives a crap about him and they fast forward to the end of his promos waiting for some sly smirk which means he is going to switch subjects and wait to see if he mentions their name. If not...just another speed bump in the highway of the boring road that is the agony of Slane's entire career.
Slane, (Jason chuckles a bit) it's kinda amusing to say, but, Congrats. You somehow managed to pull out a victory over a man who barely can tie his own shoes. Then, Slane, you have the audacity...the boldness.. the gumption to go on WCF network and waste the time of Brian Worthy. They guy has other things to do... how much did you pay him to stay awake while he interviewed you? Hell I wish I would have interrupted that feed instead of this one because the fans would have thanked me even more.
Lets get into that interview shall we... the first thing of any note would be the fact that Worthy gave you credit for doing something you are supposed to do. You beat two guys... f*cking gold star for you. You obviously haven't faced anyone with talent or you wouldn't be sitting there as champion. Secondly, the match where competitors are thrown in to determine their contendership for titles. I think after Seth sees these ratings, I may be put in that match. Unless he's had a heart attack by now seeing me pirate his entire billion dollar network. Thirdly, on the subject of Seth, my little buddy Spencer hacked his cell phone and there was distinctly a message from you requesting the night off. Don't go around lying to the fans and even the rest of the locker room. You are the first ever World Champ to run from a challenge and request to fight for a lower title. Once again you like beating up people with less talent than you. Sh*t I have a two year old, wanna face him for his choo choo train title? Come on man step up to the big leagues and play ball.
You can go around claiming to want to fight every week... putting the championship on the line...something about porterhouses in Philly or something, but at the end of the day you are and every will be the tallest midget, son. I want you understand something, you and I both know the Aussie, Mr. Spick and Span, Shine Boy...whatever is no where near your pathetic level. Yeah...I did it... I said you were better than someone. Turds are better than diarrhea any day. Take the complement. It seems as if all it does to make you loose your sh*t is to mention you in a promo. (Puts on an Australian accent) This one's really going to put a wad in your panties. (Back to regular voice) You are indeed out of your league as champion, but not because you are not better than most on this roster. Its because you know deep down...you have have never been tested. You don't know what a champion is supposed to be because you have never seen one of any caliber. No fault of your own...Slane, for the first time ever, I will be awaiting your presence on the screen. To see if you have the balls to mention my name in one of your shallow and pedantic a*s promos.
Seth... check the ratings. The live twitter feed is already buzzing about this six foot two inch, 220 pound man looking to bring a little legitimacy to a company with a champion like Slane. You know where to find me, you know the money that can be made. You know you need me. Seems like you have three choices: ignore the money and the ratings I just got you and erase this feed from history, invite me to the show and have your goons beat me up, OR what everyone wants...option three... give me a contract and a match. The ball is your court...
:: With that the scene fades seamlessly back to the 1...2...3...!!! The crowd erupts as Stuart Slane wins and celebrates yet another fruitless and pointless victory. The caption reads: "Champion quality then, Champion NOW!" As the scene fades to black, Jason O'Neal can be heard audibly seemingly critiquing Slane...
JASON O'NEAL: F*cking pansy.
:: Fade
As imagined, the cable providers received a higher than expect call volume when the interruption broke. Some WCF technician with one job to do, nearly crapped his pants when the feed was interrupted. The video signal slowly but surely gained strength and we are no longer in Kansas anymore. From the WCF Network and affiliate broadcasting the third predictable move by their champion to a magnificent scene.
A manicured lawn sitting in front a stylish, sleek and modern monster of a house fills the lens. A little feedback, a jump to a top rope maneuver countered by Slane. Signal regained as the scene has shifted again inside a control room...
MAN 1: You heard the man, if this sh*t doesn't last through the end of his speech, they will find your a*s in an ally some f*cking where.
MAN 2: Yes sir, its just that it takes alot to hijack an entire network feed.
MAN 1: Last time I checked, Spencer, he was giving you alot.
:: Spencer, obviously lab geek, but the mountain of a man behind him and barking orders was a sight to behold. Who is he and why is he on the screen...
MAN 1: Just keep it rolling. (He speaks into an ear piece) It's a go. (Back to Spencer) Switch cameras.
:: With a more than encouraging nudge from the massive man, Spencer quickly entered the correct combination of keys to switch the camera. A little more static and sputter, but when the picture became clear, he sat on a bar stool. The camera stood about ten feet from the man facing camera. A custom Olhausen pool table stood adjacent to the scene. New Orleans Saints memorabilia hung around the room. The man... he was wearing a pair of jeans and a wife beater. His hair cut in a fade style, his face memorable and his body toned in all the places to make the ladies take notice. He seemed cocky and arrogant, but with a shrewd and distinguish confidence...
THE MAN: I went through alot of trouble getting on the air tonight. No one knew anything was coming. Hell the network and the pea-brained staff are trying as hard as they can to cut my feed before someone...of any significance sees me. (imitates a child) We can't let Mr. Slane see this... he interrupted his feed. Oh my... (back to normal voice)
I've been on the Indy scene far too long to fill out applications and do things the legit way. If you want me... give me a call... the name is Jason O'Neal. By now, some idiot thinks they found the source of the pirate feed and can shut it down. It is relayed off of at least 10 IP addresses...good luck.
I've sat at home, just like the rest of the fans of WCF. I have watched since it's existence and to see the sad state it is in now just makes me want to hurl. Seriously, a f*cking TV Champion who's accent grinds the gears of every person watching on Television? The guy barely can wrestle. Unless you call that squirming around aimlessly for 20 minutes he does wrestling. This poindexter calls himself the Shine... really...?
:: Jason smirks...
JASON O'NEAL: The new champion... Mr. Stuart Slane. Like I said, I've been watching...waiting anticipating the right moment to make my appearance in the WCF. I thought to myself, 'why not when the WCF has it's weakest champion yet?' It seems all it takes to be champion around here is to lube up and bend over. While he got the shaft from management in order to get the shot, subsequently he is giving the shaft to every one of the WCF fans who have to watch the bullsh*t he produces on a daily basis. Honestly, and quite literally no one gives a crap about him and they fast forward to the end of his promos waiting for some sly smirk which means he is going to switch subjects and wait to see if he mentions their name. If not...just another speed bump in the highway of the boring road that is the agony of Slane's entire career.
Slane, (Jason chuckles a bit) it's kinda amusing to say, but, Congrats. You somehow managed to pull out a victory over a man who barely can tie his own shoes. Then, Slane, you have the audacity...the boldness.. the gumption to go on WCF network and waste the time of Brian Worthy. They guy has other things to do... how much did you pay him to stay awake while he interviewed you? Hell I wish I would have interrupted that feed instead of this one because the fans would have thanked me even more.
Lets get into that interview shall we... the first thing of any note would be the fact that Worthy gave you credit for doing something you are supposed to do. You beat two guys... f*cking gold star for you. You obviously haven't faced anyone with talent or you wouldn't be sitting there as champion. Secondly, the match where competitors are thrown in to determine their contendership for titles. I think after Seth sees these ratings, I may be put in that match. Unless he's had a heart attack by now seeing me pirate his entire billion dollar network. Thirdly, on the subject of Seth, my little buddy Spencer hacked his cell phone and there was distinctly a message from you requesting the night off. Don't go around lying to the fans and even the rest of the locker room. You are the first ever World Champ to run from a challenge and request to fight for a lower title. Once again you like beating up people with less talent than you. Sh*t I have a two year old, wanna face him for his choo choo train title? Come on man step up to the big leagues and play ball.
You can go around claiming to want to fight every week... putting the championship on the line...something about porterhouses in Philly or something, but at the end of the day you are and every will be the tallest midget, son. I want you understand something, you and I both know the Aussie, Mr. Spick and Span, Shine Boy...whatever is no where near your pathetic level. Yeah...I did it... I said you were better than someone. Turds are better than diarrhea any day. Take the complement. It seems as if all it does to make you loose your sh*t is to mention you in a promo. (Puts on an Australian accent) This one's really going to put a wad in your panties. (Back to regular voice) You are indeed out of your league as champion, but not because you are not better than most on this roster. Its because you know deep down...you have have never been tested. You don't know what a champion is supposed to be because you have never seen one of any caliber. No fault of your own...Slane, for the first time ever, I will be awaiting your presence on the screen. To see if you have the balls to mention my name in one of your shallow and pedantic a*s promos.
Seth... check the ratings. The live twitter feed is already buzzing about this six foot two inch, 220 pound man looking to bring a little legitimacy to a company with a champion like Slane. You know where to find me, you know the money that can be made. You know you need me. Seems like you have three choices: ignore the money and the ratings I just got you and erase this feed from history, invite me to the show and have your goons beat me up, OR what everyone wants...option three... give me a contract and a match. The ball is your court...
:: With that the scene fades seamlessly back to the 1...2...3...!!! The crowd erupts as Stuart Slane wins and celebrates yet another fruitless and pointless victory. The caption reads: "Champion quality then, Champion NOW!" As the scene fades to black, Jason O'Neal can be heard audibly seemingly critiquing Slane...
JASON O'NEAL: F*cking pansy.
:: Fade
