Post by russellmorris on Jul 18, 2011 1:43:01 GMT -5
*Russell Morris stands behind his house with Annabelle at his side. He is in an Armani black pinstripe suit, red button down and smoke-tinted Ray-Bans and she is in a Ferragamo dress. Russell stands with a microphone in hand.*
Russell: You know, I tried to give you WCF fans a preview of my match this Monday, but because of that little Scum of the Earth pigmy Hank Brown, I don’t believe I got my point across. So let me take this opportunity to tell you folks exactly the way it is.
*Russell pauses, hands the mic to Annabelle as he removes his sunglasses and places them in his coat pocket. He grabs the mic back and starts again.*
Russell: I was thinking, and I don’t think you fans truly realize what is before you. I am the record breaker, the honey shaker, the love maker and, soon to be, the career taker. Because when I heard that the “Over the top-rope, you’re fired” match was returning, I was thrilled to hear that I would be involved and end the career of three worthless peons who I don’t want sullying the ring I step in anymore. I’m doing the work WCF doesn’t have the testicular fortitude themselves to do. I am takin’ out the trash. I am doing the dirty work. And you people will never realize or appreciate the favor I am doing for you.
*Russell unbuttons his coat and continues.*
Russell: Steve Thunder?! Who cares about some curtain-jerking jabroni from Miami? You gonna come out here and tell me that some guy who if brains were dynamite, he wouldn’t have enough to blow his nose, is gonna cost me MY job? You gotta be kidding me. So Steve, call your amigos down in Miami, tell them you’ll need a place to crash and go back to work as a runner protecting your pals swimming to America.
*Russell takes a breath, adjusting his collar slightly.*
Russell: Next would be Tek? (pausing to think) Nothing else, just Tek? Well you scrawny little turd, hope you didn’t sell your place back on the west coast because you need to have some place to stay after tonight. We gotta too many of you little guys hoppin’ around like a damn Mexican jumping bean and I guess its my job to cut the fat.
*Russell wipes his forehead and unbuttons the second button.*
Russell: And that leaves you Paul. You know, people wanted to believe that our first night in this company was a showing of how bright a future you would have because you almost came in and, in their words, should have won your opening night in a six-man match. Well Paulie, you know you were outclassed in that match and survived because you were by far the least of my worries. And when you rolled me up, you thought you had me, but you forgot how I am smarter than you, always have been, always will be. But that glorious lack of intelligence is gonna still make you one of the smartest men on Long Island.
*Russell stops and places his head in his hand. As Annabelle places her hand on his shoulder, he loses it, flinging off his jacket and turning into a near raving lunatic.*
Russell: YOU KNOW, MY JOB ISN’T TO LOWER MY STANDARDS TO LESSER TALENT! MY JOB ISN’T TO BE WCF’S HUMAN RESOURCE DEPARTMENT! MY JOB IS TO BE THE GREATEST WRESTLER IN THE WORLD TODAY! *collecting himself with a few deep breaths* To have to be in the ring with these peons is an insult. I come out here, each and every night and put on the best show that I can for the humanoids and Neanderthals who don’t appreciate my talents. And you wanna see these high-flyers who don’t know a wristlock from a wristwatch, come out here looking like some slob off the street instead of a professional *pointing to himself*. And now, it’s my job to lead the cattle to slaughter. I will end the careers of what some people may consider (mockingly) “budding superstars”, but I know that these guys who couldn’t draw a hundred to a high school gym. So you come out tonight and maybe one day you can tell your four tooth havin’, inbred grandchildren that you were a wrestler, but your career was ended by the greatest of all-time. Because Tek, Stevie, Paulie, finish up your cups of coffee, get on that Greyhound Bus and get the hell outta WCF. I’m endin’ your careers tonight and THAT…is just the way it is.
*Russell runs his hand through his hair, gets the sunglasses out of his coat, puts them on and throws his coat over his shoulder as he and Annabelle walk off camera arm-in-arm.*
Russell: You know, I tried to give you WCF fans a preview of my match this Monday, but because of that little Scum of the Earth pigmy Hank Brown, I don’t believe I got my point across. So let me take this opportunity to tell you folks exactly the way it is.
*Russell pauses, hands the mic to Annabelle as he removes his sunglasses and places them in his coat pocket. He grabs the mic back and starts again.*
Russell: I was thinking, and I don’t think you fans truly realize what is before you. I am the record breaker, the honey shaker, the love maker and, soon to be, the career taker. Because when I heard that the “Over the top-rope, you’re fired” match was returning, I was thrilled to hear that I would be involved and end the career of three worthless peons who I don’t want sullying the ring I step in anymore. I’m doing the work WCF doesn’t have the testicular fortitude themselves to do. I am takin’ out the trash. I am doing the dirty work. And you people will never realize or appreciate the favor I am doing for you.
*Russell unbuttons his coat and continues.*
Russell: Steve Thunder?! Who cares about some curtain-jerking jabroni from Miami? You gonna come out here and tell me that some guy who if brains were dynamite, he wouldn’t have enough to blow his nose, is gonna cost me MY job? You gotta be kidding me. So Steve, call your amigos down in Miami, tell them you’ll need a place to crash and go back to work as a runner protecting your pals swimming to America.
*Russell takes a breath, adjusting his collar slightly.*
Russell: Next would be Tek? (pausing to think) Nothing else, just Tek? Well you scrawny little turd, hope you didn’t sell your place back on the west coast because you need to have some place to stay after tonight. We gotta too many of you little guys hoppin’ around like a damn Mexican jumping bean and I guess its my job to cut the fat.
*Russell wipes his forehead and unbuttons the second button.*
Russell: And that leaves you Paul. You know, people wanted to believe that our first night in this company was a showing of how bright a future you would have because you almost came in and, in their words, should have won your opening night in a six-man match. Well Paulie, you know you were outclassed in that match and survived because you were by far the least of my worries. And when you rolled me up, you thought you had me, but you forgot how I am smarter than you, always have been, always will be. But that glorious lack of intelligence is gonna still make you one of the smartest men on Long Island.
*Russell stops and places his head in his hand. As Annabelle places her hand on his shoulder, he loses it, flinging off his jacket and turning into a near raving lunatic.*
Russell: YOU KNOW, MY JOB ISN’T TO LOWER MY STANDARDS TO LESSER TALENT! MY JOB ISN’T TO BE WCF’S HUMAN RESOURCE DEPARTMENT! MY JOB IS TO BE THE GREATEST WRESTLER IN THE WORLD TODAY! *collecting himself with a few deep breaths* To have to be in the ring with these peons is an insult. I come out here, each and every night and put on the best show that I can for the humanoids and Neanderthals who don’t appreciate my talents. And you wanna see these high-flyers who don’t know a wristlock from a wristwatch, come out here looking like some slob off the street instead of a professional *pointing to himself*. And now, it’s my job to lead the cattle to slaughter. I will end the careers of what some people may consider (mockingly) “budding superstars”, but I know that these guys who couldn’t draw a hundred to a high school gym. So you come out tonight and maybe one day you can tell your four tooth havin’, inbred grandchildren that you were a wrestler, but your career was ended by the greatest of all-time. Because Tek, Stevie, Paulie, finish up your cups of coffee, get on that Greyhound Bus and get the hell outta WCF. I’m endin’ your careers tonight and THAT…is just the way it is.
*Russell runs his hand through his hair, gets the sunglasses out of his coat, puts them on and throws his coat over his shoulder as he and Annabelle walk off camera arm-in-arm.*
