Post by Doc Henry on Aug 21, 2011 14:07:30 GMT -5
Doc is walking backstage at the Wells Fargo Arena, his stroll is slow and measured. With his hat pulled low, and the collar of his saddlecoat pulled up, Doc's face peeks out from the shadows. Taking a puff from his cigarette, Doc notices the camera. "So, Mr. Blake, I see you've been running your mouth. I have to say, it gave me a chuckle. Tell me, was that the ignorance of a rookie, or do you really just not get it? Nice touch by the way with the clever use of your Cadillac's headlights.
Where do you get off thinking you should be honored? I mean really, what have you done to deserve it? Seriously, you've done nothing but be Baines, and Odin's bitch. Sure you have, what, one title win? There are so many people in this business who have dropped into the world of anonymous obscurity. Go ahead attack my win loss record all you want, I only keep track of it for profiling purposes. Yup, it helps me spot posers like you, now, get a clue you fucking hack. Win loss records don't make a man, nor a legend, or even a hall of famer. You'd be hard pressed to find someone with years of experience to have a win loss record to be proud of."
Doc continues down the back halls, and stops at the door to one of the bathrooms. "Well, Blake to answer your question, looks line your getting the Doc that takes a shit." Doc enters the restroom and walks to the handicap stall, shutting and latching the door, we hear the lid clank into an open position, followed by a belt and zipper being opened. As we hear the sound of denim hitting the floor, Doc's voice echos out, "Damn, I hate fucking cold toilet seats..."
As the camera stays focused on the stall door, certain sounds can be heard, amplified slightly by the bowl. Thankfully technology hasn't progressed to the point that smells can be transmitted through electronics. "You have been impressive, I'll give you that, but I am the most resilient, most tenacious man this business has ever known. Go ahead, brag about taking Baines, and even Kaylyn to their upper limits. That's a good accomplishment for a jobber. The men I have taken to the limits..." Doc farts loudly, "Well, they'd kick all y'alls asses without raising their heartbeats. Men like Ryan Daniels, Spike Kane, Slickie T, Torture, Logan... Hell, I could go on for hours. That isn't the point though. The point is Blake, your just like the Dude's friend Donny... Your outta your element, so shut the fuck up. Go ahead, tout your little Alliance, just a bunch of hypocrites, for all your talk of making the WCF better, what the hell have you done? Have you approached the collective shareholders, and offered to buy them out? Have you tried to bring in new talent, help build this place up?"
A rustling is heard before a loud flush. A few seconds later Doc emerges and moves to the sink to wash up. "Ryan Blake optimizing Ryan Blake... What the fuck have you been smoking boo? You seriously think that you can bring down the thunder onto me? Really???
Ryan, I mean Donny, your out of your fucking element. You think I care about 'justice'? Go ahead, bring the best you can. You cannot break me, many have come before with those exact claims, men and women far better and brighter than you, all of them failed. Not for lack of trying, but because like the adamantium in Wolverine, I cannot be broken, nor can I be dulled. I am carved from a substance you can never be. Take your six match experience and go blow smoke up someone else's ass. A match like this does favor me, a man that can cut open the vitals of his closest friends and family, and watch them bleed. A man that cares not about careers, lives, or even who he has to batter, break, or even kill to accomplish a goal. Revenge isn't an aptly named pay per view. No that isn't even close, for I am not looking for revenge for anything, I'm looking for blood, destruction, death, and your soul. Your gonna find out real fast just how evil and devilish I am. I have no mercy, I have no compassion, I have no heart. What I have is you, at my disposal, and it will be a long, painful process..."
Doc lights up another cigarette, and pauses at the bathroom door. "There is a nice little cemetery just about a mile and a half west of here. One I think you'll like, if not, well you'll learn to like it. After I beat your poser ass to a bloody, unrecognizable mass, I'm gonna throw you into the nearest ambulance, and bypass the hospitals. There is a fresh grave being dug right now, for you. I have even commissioned a fitting grave marker, your mother would be proud. Unfortunately an afterlife meeting will not be in your future, because at Revenge, I'm taking you straight to Hell!!!" Doc exits as the heavy door slams shut with a dull echo...
Where do you get off thinking you should be honored? I mean really, what have you done to deserve it? Seriously, you've done nothing but be Baines, and Odin's bitch. Sure you have, what, one title win? There are so many people in this business who have dropped into the world of anonymous obscurity. Go ahead attack my win loss record all you want, I only keep track of it for profiling purposes. Yup, it helps me spot posers like you, now, get a clue you fucking hack. Win loss records don't make a man, nor a legend, or even a hall of famer. You'd be hard pressed to find someone with years of experience to have a win loss record to be proud of."
Doc continues down the back halls, and stops at the door to one of the bathrooms. "Well, Blake to answer your question, looks line your getting the Doc that takes a shit." Doc enters the restroom and walks to the handicap stall, shutting and latching the door, we hear the lid clank into an open position, followed by a belt and zipper being opened. As we hear the sound of denim hitting the floor, Doc's voice echos out, "Damn, I hate fucking cold toilet seats..."
As the camera stays focused on the stall door, certain sounds can be heard, amplified slightly by the bowl. Thankfully technology hasn't progressed to the point that smells can be transmitted through electronics. "You have been impressive, I'll give you that, but I am the most resilient, most tenacious man this business has ever known. Go ahead, brag about taking Baines, and even Kaylyn to their upper limits. That's a good accomplishment for a jobber. The men I have taken to the limits..." Doc farts loudly, "Well, they'd kick all y'alls asses without raising their heartbeats. Men like Ryan Daniels, Spike Kane, Slickie T, Torture, Logan... Hell, I could go on for hours. That isn't the point though. The point is Blake, your just like the Dude's friend Donny... Your outta your element, so shut the fuck up. Go ahead, tout your little Alliance, just a bunch of hypocrites, for all your talk of making the WCF better, what the hell have you done? Have you approached the collective shareholders, and offered to buy them out? Have you tried to bring in new talent, help build this place up?"
A rustling is heard before a loud flush. A few seconds later Doc emerges and moves to the sink to wash up. "Ryan Blake optimizing Ryan Blake... What the fuck have you been smoking boo? You seriously think that you can bring down the thunder onto me? Really???
Ryan, I mean Donny, your out of your fucking element. You think I care about 'justice'? Go ahead, bring the best you can. You cannot break me, many have come before with those exact claims, men and women far better and brighter than you, all of them failed. Not for lack of trying, but because like the adamantium in Wolverine, I cannot be broken, nor can I be dulled. I am carved from a substance you can never be. Take your six match experience and go blow smoke up someone else's ass. A match like this does favor me, a man that can cut open the vitals of his closest friends and family, and watch them bleed. A man that cares not about careers, lives, or even who he has to batter, break, or even kill to accomplish a goal. Revenge isn't an aptly named pay per view. No that isn't even close, for I am not looking for revenge for anything, I'm looking for blood, destruction, death, and your soul. Your gonna find out real fast just how evil and devilish I am. I have no mercy, I have no compassion, I have no heart. What I have is you, at my disposal, and it will be a long, painful process..."
Doc lights up another cigarette, and pauses at the bathroom door. "There is a nice little cemetery just about a mile and a half west of here. One I think you'll like, if not, well you'll learn to like it. After I beat your poser ass to a bloody, unrecognizable mass, I'm gonna throw you into the nearest ambulance, and bypass the hospitals. There is a fresh grave being dug right now, for you. I have even commissioned a fitting grave marker, your mother would be proud. Unfortunately an afterlife meeting will not be in your future, because at Revenge, I'm taking you straight to Hell!!!" Doc exits as the heavy door slams shut with a dull echo...
