Post by "The Real Deal" Jason O'Neal on Aug 6, 2016 0:17:20 GMT -5
:: FLASHBACK Sunday July 31st… East Rutherford, New Jersey. The panoramic, picturesque scene rises on the outside of the Izod Center. WcF logo in the bottom right hand corner of the screen. People are seen scurrying, at this scale seemingly like ants as the entire nation and worldwide gets ready for Ultimate Showdown. The camera switches to a ground camera at a back entrance to the arena. The camera captures the cool and calm persona of Jason O’Neal being checked by security at the talent’s entrance…
SECURITY GUARD: I’m sorry Mr. O’Neal…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL (interrupting): It’s Jason… (Jason reads the security guard’s name tag) call me Jason, Pete.
PETE THE SECURITY GUARD: Well… Jason, Mr. Lerch was adamant about not letting you into the building tonight.
:: Just then two other security guards come into view of the camera…
SECURITY GUARD 2: Hey Pete, is there a problem?
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL (interrupting): Nah… big guy no problem. Just trying to figure out why I am not allowed into the building.
SECURITY GUARD 3: Mr. O’Neal… I personally love your work. The way you hacked the system last wee…
:: A stern pop to the back of the hand stopped the sentence in mid syllable…
SECURITY GUARD 2: Shut up…Chad, if you want to keep you job. Do it. Seth Lerch said this idiot is not allowed in here after the stunt he pulled. He also vowed to bring down the structure of the WCF.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL (interrupting): Relax Carl… (again reading the name tag) It was a metaphor. I just might cause a little ruckus tonight.
PETE THE SECURITY GUARD: I’m sorry, Mr. O’Ne… (Jason shoots him a look) Jason, but we have to follow orders.
CARL THE SECURITY GUARD: I’m not sorry get to stepping.
:: Carl patted Jason on the shoulder and pointed towards the exit…
CHAD THE SECURITY GUARD: You really shouldn’t do that. This dude is wicked. I’ve followed him the Indy Circuit for a while. He could probably take all three of us.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: I’m flattered really. However, There’s more than one way to skin a cat.
:: Jason walks away without incident… Fade…
:: CONTINUATION OF FLASHBACK… When we catch back up to Jason O’Neal he is at the box office. He strolls up.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Front row. Camera-side please.
WOMAN BEHIND THE GLASS(without looking up): Sir, that seat is very ex…
:: Jason drops $10,000 in cash on the ledge. Street cred goes far. Apparently not far enough…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Make it happen, (Again reading the name tag) Stacy.
:: Stacy looks up for the first time at the mention of her name. She is blushing at the sight of handsomeness personified, impressed by the cash, and starstruck by the “The Real Deal.” This reaction isn’t uncommon to Jason O’Neal. Women loved him. The issue was with the look. The look she gave after the girlish giggle and stare. The look of helplessness…
STACY: I’m so sorry Mr. O’Neal, strict orders not to let you in. We can’t allow you in the stadium. You are considered a security risk.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: It’s cool, you a jersey girl?
:: Jason shoots her a smile…
STACY: Yeah, but I party like a New Orleans Chick.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Well security stopped me in the back, and you stopped me getting in through the ticket counter. How about we ditch this place and go somewhere fun?
STACY: What about my job?
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: I’m me. Keep the 10 G’s. That should hold you over till you find a better job.
:: The cute brunette, not smoking hot like some staged bullshit that didn’t happen, walked away from the ticket desk with notifying anyone which caused a delay of twenty minutes for a line of people…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL(Jason motions under his neck): That’s enough for what I need. Cut it.
:: Fade to black…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: The sad part about this whole thing is she lied. She said she partied like a NOLA chick, but dude she fell flat like a bitch out of Sheffield or something…(he smirks) Seriously though, the sad part of the whole kit and caboodle is the fact the Seth Lerch was too coward to let me in the building. Had security and a bad lay keeping me out. What the hell was he thinking?
Oh wait…keep the loser coalition at the top of the barrel while the talent seeps down to the bottom. I gotta say, we may actually have a champion worth being called a champion and it aint f*cking Brent Alpine or Bishop. Congrats to the tallest midget Gemini Battle. You clearly were the best in that match. But shit, a victory over Bishop, Slane, Alpine, and Bates is like saying you beat Larry, Curley, Mo, and Spongebob.
Seth… I understand, you want to keep you flimsy dream of dominating the world alive and keep you Seth is God persona because it sells tickets. Do you know what sells more? Talent… It seems you realize that because you finally called me. The contract is finally done. The switch is in. It’s funny, I had this shit (points at the big screen paused at the end of the flashback promo) ready to go. I was going to pirate another feed and the phone rings. A deal. You couldn’t wait to smack that WcF logo on everything I do. It bring in the viewers. It brings in money. You’re welcome.
I had to show the world this time how I tried not to disappoint them, but you were so coward you kept me out of the arena Sunday Night. You didn’t want you matches interrupted by me. You didn’t want to have you’re a-list talent shown up by someone who wasn’t even on contract. Understandable, but you made the dumbest smart decision anyone has ever made. Seth you gave me money to be me and do what I do in the WcF. Not going be pretty for fake punks and men who hide behind gimmicks and characters because they are to bitchass to be real…
:: Jason shifts in his seat and plants his feet on the ground. He clasps his fingers again but this time in front of him as his elbows rest on his knees…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Speaking of fake punks… what the hell is up with Dion Necurat? What kind of grown man walks around with a shield? He cannot be serious. From the promo I watched, he some kind of cage fighting X-men type pit fighting rebel with a clue superhero. Cool you beat someone up in a cage on camera. Fun. Scary. Mystic even. Understand something, I don’t know what the hell that talent scout saw in you, but she should have left your punk ass in Arden Hills.
She said you were going to need training… obvious… you couldn’t even eek out a win versus Zero Tolerance at Ultimate Showdown. How the hell do you think you are going to fare in a match with me? I have more talent in my left pinky toe that you have in your entire shield waving body. Stick to fighting in cages and leave the professional shit to me. Furthermore, you worthless piece of gum stuck to the bottom of an ugly bitch’s shoe, who the hell fights underground and only bets $50 or ever $300. I was twelve slanging hash and fighting for more than that shit. I make more than that for taking a shit on your mom’s chest you dumbf*ck. Tell you what when you get the big leagues…let me know. I’ll be waiting.
:: Jason reaches for the remote and shifts the image on the screen and up pops what looks like the four armed monster from Mortal Kombat the movie. Yeah, the one who fights Johnny Cage, breaks the glasses, nut shot. That guy. But it isn’t that guy. It is Jason’s opponent at Slam, Ghallager. Jason smirks and once again shakes his head in mocking disbelief…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Where does Seth find these guys man? The Main Event…really? Com’ on man. This guy needs to wake up. We’re in the first match. Nowhere near the “main event.” Hashtag low carder. I know why I’m there. I spoke to that earlier. Seth don’t want to get none of his f*ck buddies hurt. Or even just make them look bad. But Marky Poo actually thinks he should be in the Death Match Tourney. The f*ck he smoking? I seriously don’t understand that shit.
:: Jason takes a sip of Gatorade from the bottle that was formerly in the cup holder of the theatre seat he sat in. He replaces the red Gatorade to the cup holder and begins to impart wisdom on the four armed beast, Goro…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Mr. Gallagher, may I call you Mark?... What the hell? Not like I give a damn. Mark…my first question, why the hell are you in New Hampshire already? You cut the f*cking promo Thursday and the show isn’t until Sunday. Have you life you bloody wanker? (Jason cracks up a bit) I’ve always wanted to say that. No seriously…there is 50 states in America. It’s not like the shoe box across the pond you grew up in. You can explore other places. New Hampshire is like the mole on America’s ass. You had four days and you are running around New Hampshire at 3 A.M. like a lunatic. Laughing like you are high on the best weed of your life. It’s cool…I get it you were amused.
You were amused because you have some delusion of you main-event status that just ain’t there. I don’t care if you served you country, ice cream, or Seth Lerch with blowjob. And newsflash…neither does anybody else. You brag about not selling you merchandise… first off if you ain’t getting paid you are dumb. Secondly, no one knows or cares that you exist. Why have merchandise…?it wouldn’t sell anyway. You can spin it anyway you want… you suck…admit and move on. By the way no one wants a replica shield either. No one is that lame.
I get it…you are from Shitfield, England. Tell me, what is it like to be from a field of Shit? (Jason chuckles and then gets a bit more serious) Quite frankly, I watched you pathetic attempt at intimidation and I was…how did you say…amused. That is until you called me a Bitch. Didn’t get mad… no just took attention. You see, you were in the BRAF. You killed people for a living. You put a guy in a coma. Probably from f*cking him so hard he passed out, but that’s a different story. You see you have the luxury of bragging about it. You were given permission to kill. Congrats. It’s not stealing if it’s given to you. Bitch you can’t claim to be tough because of that. It was your job dumbf*ck. Do you know what it takes to climb the ranks of an organization? Do you know the decisions you have to make? All I can say is…thank God for the gators. No evidence.
I am also going to call PETA on your ass. Stop scaring the animals at the zoo with your ugly face. The animals were so scared they were quiet what the hell. Also, stop scaring me…I don’t know what you guys do in the ring over in Shitfield…but we don’t go around wanting to eat guys… that’s usually a guy on girl thing or even a girl on girl thing…I think I will refrain from being your quote unquote first meal. Sorry to disappoint. I know I’m sexy…but try to control yourself I prefer to stay the same despite your promise to change me into whatever you fantasize about.
On last professional note here… Mark…if I may, lay off the caffeine and the hyperbole. No one is going to die or end up in a coma again. You aren’t going to f*ck any guy to death here in WcF. Calm down skippy. I hope you take that advice and understand a quest for gold is a noble cause, but for you “Far From Main Event” Mark Gallagher, give up. Stop trying now. You have ample opportunity to rethink your career choices, go back to Shitville, and… what’s the terminology you used…get stabbed from behind? I hear they pay those guys a lot more. You might need it your merchandise doesn’t sell. See you on Sunday… Good thing you don’t play by the rules… because I’m in the process of re-writing the rules.
:: For the first time, Jason O’Neal has the WcF camera in his house instead of his paid camera crew. He realizes they don’t get the cue to cut the feed.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Cut and get the hell out of my house. Until the next time I need your punkasses…
:: Screne fades to black.
SECURITY GUARD: I’m sorry Mr. O’Neal…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL (interrupting): It’s Jason… (Jason reads the security guard’s name tag) call me Jason, Pete.
PETE THE SECURITY GUARD: Well… Jason, Mr. Lerch was adamant about not letting you into the building tonight.
:: Just then two other security guards come into view of the camera…
SECURITY GUARD 2: Hey Pete, is there a problem?
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL (interrupting): Nah… big guy no problem. Just trying to figure out why I am not allowed into the building.
SECURITY GUARD 3: Mr. O’Neal… I personally love your work. The way you hacked the system last wee…
:: A stern pop to the back of the hand stopped the sentence in mid syllable…
SECURITY GUARD 2: Shut up…Chad, if you want to keep you job. Do it. Seth Lerch said this idiot is not allowed in here after the stunt he pulled. He also vowed to bring down the structure of the WCF.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL (interrupting): Relax Carl… (again reading the name tag) It was a metaphor. I just might cause a little ruckus tonight.
PETE THE SECURITY GUARD: I’m sorry, Mr. O’Ne… (Jason shoots him a look) Jason, but we have to follow orders.
CARL THE SECURITY GUARD: I’m not sorry get to stepping.
:: Carl patted Jason on the shoulder and pointed towards the exit…
CHAD THE SECURITY GUARD: You really shouldn’t do that. This dude is wicked. I’ve followed him the Indy Circuit for a while. He could probably take all three of us.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: I’m flattered really. However, There’s more than one way to skin a cat.
:: Jason walks away without incident… Fade…
------------------
:: CONTINUATION OF FLASHBACK… When we catch back up to Jason O’Neal he is at the box office. He strolls up.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Front row. Camera-side please.
WOMAN BEHIND THE GLASS(without looking up): Sir, that seat is very ex…
:: Jason drops $10,000 in cash on the ledge. Street cred goes far. Apparently not far enough…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Make it happen, (Again reading the name tag) Stacy.
:: Stacy looks up for the first time at the mention of her name. She is blushing at the sight of handsomeness personified, impressed by the cash, and starstruck by the “The Real Deal.” This reaction isn’t uncommon to Jason O’Neal. Women loved him. The issue was with the look. The look she gave after the girlish giggle and stare. The look of helplessness…
STACY: I’m so sorry Mr. O’Neal, strict orders not to let you in. We can’t allow you in the stadium. You are considered a security risk.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: It’s cool, you a jersey girl?
:: Jason shoots her a smile…
STACY: Yeah, but I party like a New Orleans Chick.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Well security stopped me in the back, and you stopped me getting in through the ticket counter. How about we ditch this place and go somewhere fun?
STACY: What about my job?
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: I’m me. Keep the 10 G’s. That should hold you over till you find a better job.
:: The cute brunette, not smoking hot like some staged bullshit that didn’t happen, walked away from the ticket desk with notifying anyone which caused a delay of twenty minutes for a line of people…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL(Jason motions under his neck): That’s enough for what I need. Cut it.
:: Fade to black…
-----------------
:: TODAY. WcF logo on the right side of the screen. Inside the familiar, lavish confines of the O’Neal home, we transition to Jason O’Neal who was actually watching the footage we just saw from a big screen television inside his home theatre. He shakes his head in mocking disappointment as he watches the footage. The camera comes to rest on Jason O’Neal as he sits back with his feet propped up on the third row of his 7 row of ten seats home theatre. He is reclined back with fingers clasped behind the back of his head…“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: The sad part about this whole thing is she lied. She said she partied like a NOLA chick, but dude she fell flat like a bitch out of Sheffield or something…(he smirks) Seriously though, the sad part of the whole kit and caboodle is the fact the Seth Lerch was too coward to let me in the building. Had security and a bad lay keeping me out. What the hell was he thinking?
Oh wait…keep the loser coalition at the top of the barrel while the talent seeps down to the bottom. I gotta say, we may actually have a champion worth being called a champion and it aint f*cking Brent Alpine or Bishop. Congrats to the tallest midget Gemini Battle. You clearly were the best in that match. But shit, a victory over Bishop, Slane, Alpine, and Bates is like saying you beat Larry, Curley, Mo, and Spongebob.
Seth… I understand, you want to keep you flimsy dream of dominating the world alive and keep you Seth is God persona because it sells tickets. Do you know what sells more? Talent… It seems you realize that because you finally called me. The contract is finally done. The switch is in. It’s funny, I had this shit (points at the big screen paused at the end of the flashback promo) ready to go. I was going to pirate another feed and the phone rings. A deal. You couldn’t wait to smack that WcF logo on everything I do. It bring in the viewers. It brings in money. You’re welcome.
I had to show the world this time how I tried not to disappoint them, but you were so coward you kept me out of the arena Sunday Night. You didn’t want you matches interrupted by me. You didn’t want to have you’re a-list talent shown up by someone who wasn’t even on contract. Understandable, but you made the dumbest smart decision anyone has ever made. Seth you gave me money to be me and do what I do in the WcF. Not going be pretty for fake punks and men who hide behind gimmicks and characters because they are to bitchass to be real…
:: Jason shifts in his seat and plants his feet on the ground. He clasps his fingers again but this time in front of him as his elbows rest on his knees…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Speaking of fake punks… what the hell is up with Dion Necurat? What kind of grown man walks around with a shield? He cannot be serious. From the promo I watched, he some kind of cage fighting X-men type pit fighting rebel with a clue superhero. Cool you beat someone up in a cage on camera. Fun. Scary. Mystic even. Understand something, I don’t know what the hell that talent scout saw in you, but she should have left your punk ass in Arden Hills.
She said you were going to need training… obvious… you couldn’t even eek out a win versus Zero Tolerance at Ultimate Showdown. How the hell do you think you are going to fare in a match with me? I have more talent in my left pinky toe that you have in your entire shield waving body. Stick to fighting in cages and leave the professional shit to me. Furthermore, you worthless piece of gum stuck to the bottom of an ugly bitch’s shoe, who the hell fights underground and only bets $50 or ever $300. I was twelve slanging hash and fighting for more than that shit. I make more than that for taking a shit on your mom’s chest you dumbf*ck. Tell you what when you get the big leagues…let me know. I’ll be waiting.
:: Jason reaches for the remote and shifts the image on the screen and up pops what looks like the four armed monster from Mortal Kombat the movie. Yeah, the one who fights Johnny Cage, breaks the glasses, nut shot. That guy. But it isn’t that guy. It is Jason’s opponent at Slam, Ghallager. Jason smirks and once again shakes his head in mocking disbelief…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Where does Seth find these guys man? The Main Event…really? Com’ on man. This guy needs to wake up. We’re in the first match. Nowhere near the “main event.” Hashtag low carder. I know why I’m there. I spoke to that earlier. Seth don’t want to get none of his f*ck buddies hurt. Or even just make them look bad. But Marky Poo actually thinks he should be in the Death Match Tourney. The f*ck he smoking? I seriously don’t understand that shit.
:: Jason takes a sip of Gatorade from the bottle that was formerly in the cup holder of the theatre seat he sat in. He replaces the red Gatorade to the cup holder and begins to impart wisdom on the four armed beast, Goro…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Mr. Gallagher, may I call you Mark?... What the hell? Not like I give a damn. Mark…my first question, why the hell are you in New Hampshire already? You cut the f*cking promo Thursday and the show isn’t until Sunday. Have you life you bloody wanker? (Jason cracks up a bit) I’ve always wanted to say that. No seriously…there is 50 states in America. It’s not like the shoe box across the pond you grew up in. You can explore other places. New Hampshire is like the mole on America’s ass. You had four days and you are running around New Hampshire at 3 A.M. like a lunatic. Laughing like you are high on the best weed of your life. It’s cool…I get it you were amused.
You were amused because you have some delusion of you main-event status that just ain’t there. I don’t care if you served you country, ice cream, or Seth Lerch with blowjob. And newsflash…neither does anybody else. You brag about not selling you merchandise… first off if you ain’t getting paid you are dumb. Secondly, no one knows or cares that you exist. Why have merchandise…?it wouldn’t sell anyway. You can spin it anyway you want… you suck…admit and move on. By the way no one wants a replica shield either. No one is that lame.
I get it…you are from Shitfield, England. Tell me, what is it like to be from a field of Shit? (Jason chuckles and then gets a bit more serious) Quite frankly, I watched you pathetic attempt at intimidation and I was…how did you say…amused. That is until you called me a Bitch. Didn’t get mad… no just took attention. You see, you were in the BRAF. You killed people for a living. You put a guy in a coma. Probably from f*cking him so hard he passed out, but that’s a different story. You see you have the luxury of bragging about it. You were given permission to kill. Congrats. It’s not stealing if it’s given to you. Bitch you can’t claim to be tough because of that. It was your job dumbf*ck. Do you know what it takes to climb the ranks of an organization? Do you know the decisions you have to make? All I can say is…thank God for the gators. No evidence.
I am also going to call PETA on your ass. Stop scaring the animals at the zoo with your ugly face. The animals were so scared they were quiet what the hell. Also, stop scaring me…I don’t know what you guys do in the ring over in Shitfield…but we don’t go around wanting to eat guys… that’s usually a guy on girl thing or even a girl on girl thing…I think I will refrain from being your quote unquote first meal. Sorry to disappoint. I know I’m sexy…but try to control yourself I prefer to stay the same despite your promise to change me into whatever you fantasize about.
On last professional note here… Mark…if I may, lay off the caffeine and the hyperbole. No one is going to die or end up in a coma again. You aren’t going to f*ck any guy to death here in WcF. Calm down skippy. I hope you take that advice and understand a quest for gold is a noble cause, but for you “Far From Main Event” Mark Gallagher, give up. Stop trying now. You have ample opportunity to rethink your career choices, go back to Shitville, and… what’s the terminology you used…get stabbed from behind? I hear they pay those guys a lot more. You might need it your merchandise doesn’t sell. See you on Sunday… Good thing you don’t play by the rules… because I’m in the process of re-writing the rules.
:: For the first time, Jason O’Neal has the WcF camera in his house instead of his paid camera crew. He realizes they don’t get the cue to cut the feed.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Cut and get the hell out of my house. Until the next time I need your punkasses…
:: Screne fades to black.
