Post by Biggs on Jun 16, 2006 15:24:13 GMT -5
The camera flickers on and we are in Biggs' computer room of his estate. Against the far wall is the computer desk with a black, flat-screen Dell computer. Sitting at the desk in an office chair is JJ Biggs. He is wearing a white WCF T-shirt and a pair of white gym shorts. The sweat glistening off his forehead and the gym bag behind him shows us that he has just finished training for his upcoming match at Slam this week.
He presses a few buttons on the keyboard and he leans back in his chair as he waits for the WCF website to load. While he's waiting, he reaches on the desk and he picks up his half-empty bottle of Budweiser. He takes a small drink from the contents and he holds it in his hand as the site finishes loading.
JJ Biggs: This computer is a piece of shit.
Well, looks like he hates his computer as much as he hated, "Date Movie." The website finally finishes loading and JJ takes another drink from the bottle. He sets it back down onto the table and he quickly looks over the site.
JJ Biggs: Ah, Torture pulled his finger's out of his ass and he's made an appearance. Let's see what the bitch had to say, shall we?
JJ moves his mouse over towards a picture of Torture. He clicks on the picture and a few moments later a box pops up onto the screen. It takes a few minutes, but finally a video begins to play of Torture's backstage promo that was recorded earlier.
JJ yawns multiple times as he watches the recording. By the time it finishes, JJ has finished the remaining liquid on the bottle of Budweiser. He closes the box and then he spins around in his chair to face the camera.
JJ Biggs: Torture! It's nice that you like to run your mouth, but why don't you shut the fuck up before I knock your teeth down your throat? Let's face it, you're just another jackass who thinks he can wrestle. You've been kicking ass in WCF since 2003? Really? That long? And all you have to show for it is the Hardcore Title? You've been on the rise since 2003? Where the hell did you start, son? It took me two months or so to get to the fucking top of this company and after three years you're just now getting to "the top?"
JJ chuckles quietly. He scratches his head with his right hand before saying some more things.
You've taken past champions to their limit? Really? Am I one of those washed-up WCF veterans that you've managed to defeat? Am I? Hell no! I am the definition of talent. You, my friend, think you're better than you really are. You may have the skills to win a tag team match when somebody helps cover for your mistakes, but when it comes to wrestling somebody with an ounce of talent, you're shitty. Everyone you've beaten on your streak has been shitty. Have they not? If you want to change my mindset, then prove me wrong at Slam. Hell, after that, prove me wrong at Explosion!
Your dad left when you were eight because he realized just how much of a disgrace you really are. Oh well, I have a surprise for you, though. At Slam, you're going to be reunited with your mother in hell. David Alastair and myself are going to beat Creeping Death into a state of mental retardation and we're going to take your life away from you because you're an embarrassment to God, to your country, and to the WCF.
JJ stares into the camera before turning around in his chair to turn off the computer. He slides away from the desk and he rises up from the chair, and leaves the room. The camera slowly fades out to a black screen.
He presses a few buttons on the keyboard and he leans back in his chair as he waits for the WCF website to load. While he's waiting, he reaches on the desk and he picks up his half-empty bottle of Budweiser. He takes a small drink from the contents and he holds it in his hand as the site finishes loading.
JJ Biggs: This computer is a piece of shit.
Well, looks like he hates his computer as much as he hated, "Date Movie." The website finally finishes loading and JJ takes another drink from the bottle. He sets it back down onto the table and he quickly looks over the site.
JJ Biggs: Ah, Torture pulled his finger's out of his ass and he's made an appearance. Let's see what the bitch had to say, shall we?
JJ moves his mouse over towards a picture of Torture. He clicks on the picture and a few moments later a box pops up onto the screen. It takes a few minutes, but finally a video begins to play of Torture's backstage promo that was recorded earlier.
JJ yawns multiple times as he watches the recording. By the time it finishes, JJ has finished the remaining liquid on the bottle of Budweiser. He closes the box and then he spins around in his chair to face the camera.
JJ Biggs: Torture! It's nice that you like to run your mouth, but why don't you shut the fuck up before I knock your teeth down your throat? Let's face it, you're just another jackass who thinks he can wrestle. You've been kicking ass in WCF since 2003? Really? That long? And all you have to show for it is the Hardcore Title? You've been on the rise since 2003? Where the hell did you start, son? It took me two months or so to get to the fucking top of this company and after three years you're just now getting to "the top?"
JJ chuckles quietly. He scratches his head with his right hand before saying some more things.
You've taken past champions to their limit? Really? Am I one of those washed-up WCF veterans that you've managed to defeat? Am I? Hell no! I am the definition of talent. You, my friend, think you're better than you really are. You may have the skills to win a tag team match when somebody helps cover for your mistakes, but when it comes to wrestling somebody with an ounce of talent, you're shitty. Everyone you've beaten on your streak has been shitty. Have they not? If you want to change my mindset, then prove me wrong at Slam. Hell, after that, prove me wrong at Explosion!
Your dad left when you were eight because he realized just how much of a disgrace you really are. Oh well, I have a surprise for you, though. At Slam, you're going to be reunited with your mother in hell. David Alastair and myself are going to beat Creeping Death into a state of mental retardation and we're going to take your life away from you because you're an embarrassment to God, to your country, and to the WCF.
JJ stares into the camera before turning around in his chair to turn off the computer. He slides away from the desk and he rises up from the chair, and leaves the room. The camera slowly fades out to a black screen.
