Post by FPV on Aug 22, 2011 5:45:51 GMT -5
Sleep.
.....
Franky.....
Wha....what? Whose there?
Franky, can you hear me?
Just tell me who you are and what the hell is going on?
Careful Franky, I might just send you there if you continue to be hostile.
Ha, really, who died and made you God, eh?
*ahem*
What's that supposed to mean?
It means shut up you ingrate before I smite you.
Wait...are you really...
Maybe I am maybe I'm not, that's for you to decide.
Oh...oh my god...
Really, I thought you didn't believe in a God?
It's...it's just...
SILENCE! I haven't come down here just to hear you stammer, I have a message for you.
What kind of message?
About WCF. Come, we have much to discuss.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
So this is the last time I'll be talking to you guys for a while. It's no secret that a WCF hiatus is upon us. Now I don't know how you people feel about it, but I'm burnt out. I came into this company in late-March, that makes about six months give or take that I've been here. The emotional roller-coaster that this industry is has a way of getting to even the best of us.
So what will I do while I'm gone? That is a good question, and even I don't know the answer to that. All I know is this...when I return, I won't be the same person I am right now. That is a guarantee. For better or greater, FPV will become something more than he is...a Savior perhaps.
But why am I talking about the future like this? I've never been the one to look deep into my own destiny, but I can look into my present, which as of now consists of four other men who want what I deserve, and one other guy who I have my doubts about.
Why, Russell Morris, Michael Chevalier, why must you clowns return to challenge me, when you lost your chance to show off last week? Why? WHY? WHY?!?! WHY ARE YOU EVEN ON THE CARD?! Cause you're filler that's why. Nothing but poor suckers destined for failure...he he, guess what guys, you're what I used to be...when Frank Venable was a failure, a loser, a good-for-nothing, a timid, weak little man! But FPV, oh, don't you worry, FPV is none of that at all. He's like a certain Mr. Sheen, he's fucking WINNING!
Now, Johnny Reb, Jay 'Motherfucking' Williams, these are the dogs that deserve my competition. You see, ever since I got this hunk of gold right here on my shoulder, the kind of competitors I have faced have had steady decline in terms of how fun it is to utterly kick their ASS! Reb, and Williams, oh, now that's quality right there. Two dudes who have come back from injurys, they'll be so out of practice, it's mind-numbing. I'm practically about to have an aneurysm just thinking about their blood on my knuckles, their torn down bodies on the mat, begging for mercy. BEGGING! And I'll look down upon them like God looks down over the earth, and whisper to them "No" before I smite them! And once their done, I will show everyone, that everything I have now, I fucking DESERVE IT, while these four motherfuckers, deserve NOTHING.
And there's Roy. Roy Speede. Speede. The Silver Lining, Number One, Terry Roberts, whatever the hell you call him, one things a fact, he's my partner, and I gotta' stick with him for one more week. After that, I might not never work with him ever again. Me and this kid...Jesus Christ, me and this kid have crossed paths many times, on both sides of the spectrum. I'll just say, however I may feel about the cat, however hard he might whine about certain things, he's still on my side...for now. That's really all I can ask for at this crazy time.
One more thing before I go. To all of the independent wrestlers out there, the ham and eggers who struggle to pay their bills, I have something I want to tell you. Giving up will only make your life more miserable, so don't. Keep on doing what you guys are doing, it's you guys that make this business fresh. If I can do it, then you can do it too.
Peace.
.....
Franky.....
Wha....what? Whose there?
Franky, can you hear me?
Just tell me who you are and what the hell is going on?
Careful Franky, I might just send you there if you continue to be hostile.
Ha, really, who died and made you God, eh?
*ahem*
What's that supposed to mean?
It means shut up you ingrate before I smite you.
Wait...are you really...
Maybe I am maybe I'm not, that's for you to decide.
Oh...oh my god...
Really, I thought you didn't believe in a God?
It's...it's just...
SILENCE! I haven't come down here just to hear you stammer, I have a message for you.
What kind of message?
About WCF. Come, we have much to discuss.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
So this is the last time I'll be talking to you guys for a while. It's no secret that a WCF hiatus is upon us. Now I don't know how you people feel about it, but I'm burnt out. I came into this company in late-March, that makes about six months give or take that I've been here. The emotional roller-coaster that this industry is has a way of getting to even the best of us.
So what will I do while I'm gone? That is a good question, and even I don't know the answer to that. All I know is this...when I return, I won't be the same person I am right now. That is a guarantee. For better or greater, FPV will become something more than he is...a Savior perhaps.
But why am I talking about the future like this? I've never been the one to look deep into my own destiny, but I can look into my present, which as of now consists of four other men who want what I deserve, and one other guy who I have my doubts about.
Why, Russell Morris, Michael Chevalier, why must you clowns return to challenge me, when you lost your chance to show off last week? Why? WHY? WHY?!?! WHY ARE YOU EVEN ON THE CARD?! Cause you're filler that's why. Nothing but poor suckers destined for failure...he he, guess what guys, you're what I used to be...when Frank Venable was a failure, a loser, a good-for-nothing, a timid, weak little man! But FPV, oh, don't you worry, FPV is none of that at all. He's like a certain Mr. Sheen, he's fucking WINNING!
Now, Johnny Reb, Jay 'Motherfucking' Williams, these are the dogs that deserve my competition. You see, ever since I got this hunk of gold right here on my shoulder, the kind of competitors I have faced have had steady decline in terms of how fun it is to utterly kick their ASS! Reb, and Williams, oh, now that's quality right there. Two dudes who have come back from injurys, they'll be so out of practice, it's mind-numbing. I'm practically about to have an aneurysm just thinking about their blood on my knuckles, their torn down bodies on the mat, begging for mercy. BEGGING! And I'll look down upon them like God looks down over the earth, and whisper to them "No" before I smite them! And once their done, I will show everyone, that everything I have now, I fucking DESERVE IT, while these four motherfuckers, deserve NOTHING.
And there's Roy. Roy Speede. Speede. The Silver Lining, Number One, Terry Roberts, whatever the hell you call him, one things a fact, he's my partner, and I gotta' stick with him for one more week. After that, I might not never work with him ever again. Me and this kid...Jesus Christ, me and this kid have crossed paths many times, on both sides of the spectrum. I'll just say, however I may feel about the cat, however hard he might whine about certain things, he's still on my side...for now. That's really all I can ask for at this crazy time.
One more thing before I go. To all of the independent wrestlers out there, the ham and eggers who struggle to pay their bills, I have something I want to tell you. Giving up will only make your life more miserable, so don't. Keep on doing what you guys are doing, it's you guys that make this business fresh. If I can do it, then you can do it too.
Peace.
