Post by thechrisavery on Jul 23, 2009 2:40:43 GMT -5
- Scene fades in.
Chris Avery: I study the ring like no one else in this federation. I know the ins, and I certainly know the outs. I understand the theatrics, and I breathe the intense drama, but I live for... I live for the opportunity to crackdown on the wrong, and indecent human beings who portray these hateful characters that want to only bring violence on their own terms. Put in Date -- was the day the old Chris Avery died. I woke up the next day in a cold sweat, I had a nightmare. A nightmare showing me what I was to become if I stayed on the course.
The old Chris Avery died in his sleep. I remember distinctly going to the bathroom to rinse my face, but before I could I looked at myself in the mirror. I stared for what seemed to be hours, but was merely minutes. I never rinsed my face of my cold hearted sweat. I walked to my closet and grabbed the only thing that was clean. A black hooded sweatshirt. I walked out my front door and three blocks down. Earlier that night I walked past a group of old teens with nothing better to do than spray paint some old bricks on the side of a liquor store. I had a feeling they were still there. I remember grabbing them and bashing in their heads after they provoked me of the color of my skin. They are now locked up for five to ten years, but that's years this society will gain in satisfaction knowing the streets may be a bit cleaner the next day. It's what drives me now. Cleaning. Studying. Winning.
The stench of Anthrax and Colton's mystic ways of cheating and slight of hand inside the wrestling ring remind me of a time when our country was at war. It reeks of havoc and chaos, and she hates every hint of bad smell of it. She can't stand it, which means I can't stand it. God I hate those two. An attack on one is an attack on all of us, and I stand up for her, I defend her honor in every match I compete in. Anthrax is just that. The anthrax that slivers deep into our pores, and overcomes us with such hate that we, ourselves, feel like cheating and defeating the competition with the help of an outside source. I can't stand that, and justice will be brought upon them.
You've talked about fate before but fate didn't put you in the match with me at Ultimate Showdown. Destiny isn't going to help you, and neither is Colton. You've basically burned every bridge you ever crossed, Anthrax, and on Sunday I'm your only help. Your last chance at sobriety. Your only savior in Wrestling Championship Federation is the truth.
I now live my life free of compromise. I stepped in the shadows, and brought justice to all kinds. It's how the Truth happened. Only what can happen, will happen. The truth is about to happen. Anthrax, see you Sunday at Ultimate Showdown when you learn what justice feels like. Something your parents should have taught you nearly 30 years ago. A lesson in lying.
- Scene fades out.
Chris Avery: I study the ring like no one else in this federation. I know the ins, and I certainly know the outs. I understand the theatrics, and I breathe the intense drama, but I live for... I live for the opportunity to crackdown on the wrong, and indecent human beings who portray these hateful characters that want to only bring violence on their own terms. Put in Date -- was the day the old Chris Avery died. I woke up the next day in a cold sweat, I had a nightmare. A nightmare showing me what I was to become if I stayed on the course.
The old Chris Avery died in his sleep. I remember distinctly going to the bathroom to rinse my face, but before I could I looked at myself in the mirror. I stared for what seemed to be hours, but was merely minutes. I never rinsed my face of my cold hearted sweat. I walked to my closet and grabbed the only thing that was clean. A black hooded sweatshirt. I walked out my front door and three blocks down. Earlier that night I walked past a group of old teens with nothing better to do than spray paint some old bricks on the side of a liquor store. I had a feeling they were still there. I remember grabbing them and bashing in their heads after they provoked me of the color of my skin. They are now locked up for five to ten years, but that's years this society will gain in satisfaction knowing the streets may be a bit cleaner the next day. It's what drives me now. Cleaning. Studying. Winning.
The stench of Anthrax and Colton's mystic ways of cheating and slight of hand inside the wrestling ring remind me of a time when our country was at war. It reeks of havoc and chaos, and she hates every hint of bad smell of it. She can't stand it, which means I can't stand it. God I hate those two. An attack on one is an attack on all of us, and I stand up for her, I defend her honor in every match I compete in. Anthrax is just that. The anthrax that slivers deep into our pores, and overcomes us with such hate that we, ourselves, feel like cheating and defeating the competition with the help of an outside source. I can't stand that, and justice will be brought upon them.
You've talked about fate before but fate didn't put you in the match with me at Ultimate Showdown. Destiny isn't going to help you, and neither is Colton. You've basically burned every bridge you ever crossed, Anthrax, and on Sunday I'm your only help. Your last chance at sobriety. Your only savior in Wrestling Championship Federation is the truth.
I now live my life free of compromise. I stepped in the shadows, and brought justice to all kinds. It's how the Truth happened. Only what can happen, will happen. The truth is about to happen. Anthrax, see you Sunday at Ultimate Showdown when you learn what justice feels like. Something your parents should have taught you nearly 30 years ago. A lesson in lying.
- Scene fades out.
