Post by "The Main Man" Chris Diamond on Nov 17, 2023 1:05:40 GMT
{ It’s time for the MANIAC MINUTE!
And unlike most weeks I don’t have a super long monologue where I trail off into other topics I have no business speaking on!
Unfortunate for you!
This week is super serious! You see, the Main Man is in a big match and when someone is in a big match they have to do something super serious. You can’t just come out here and cut a run of the mill promo, you have to do something over the top! Something special! You have to kill someone!
That’s why this week we are going to give you an intimate look into the personal life of the Main Man himself!
We transition from the black screen of I have been speaking over to a dingy motel room. I’m talking Motel 7 bad. This place doesn’t even have a google listing for you to give it one star. At this place? The cockroaches pay rent.
This is where we find the Main Man. He’s standing at the end of the bed. In the bed? A hooker. The hooker is very clearly pregnant, probably about seven or eight months if I had to guess and she’s only wearing a towel to cover her personal bits. }
”Are you sure we can’t just have the baby?”
”I’m real god-damn sure.”
{ Chris whips out a coat hanger. He very slowly unravels the top and straightens it out so it’s a super long hook. }
”Spread’em.”
{ The hooker spreads her legs apart while Chris applies a little bit of the old WD-40 to the coat hanger. }
”And here we go.”
{ Chris bends over with the coat hanger in the position and……….
WE CUT TO ANOTHER LOCATION!
There you go. Chris Diamond is now the proud father of a dead baby.
IT’S PAY PER VIEW WEEK! BAYBAY!!!!!!!
And the Main Man is going in all guns loaded and locked to unload all over whoever is on the other end of them. Except this isn’t any whoever on the other end this week. This week, at the paip, the Main Man has his little homo erotic brother on the otherside of the ring from him. So the Main Man is taken this shit extra serious. That’s why we find the Main Man in a seated position, sideways to our point of view, in his hands is the mask of the Maniac. }
”I fucking hate you, Rob…”
{ He says it with such CONVICTION! }
”When I was younger I thought it was because you took the shine off me. I was dad’s first and only son for a good ten years. Hell, I was their only kid for tenish years. Then Shelly came along and that was actually really cool. A little sister? At my age at the time? I was a real big brother. At least that’s what I thought. And then your little dumbass came along one year later. And suddenly it was all about Rob.”
{ The Main Man sounds sad but the way a bad ass sounds sad, like when Clint Eastwood is sad but you also know he’s totally capable of shooting a bunch of Asians without batting an eye. }
”All mom and dad cared about was you. Yeah, Shelly got her attention because she was the only girl but they treated you like the son they always wanted. And I didn’t get it. I still don’t fucking get it. You were such a little piece of shit. You were fucking annoying, whiney, cried to get whatever you want. Remember that time when you were five and you shit yourself next to the rocker because you were mad Mom wanted you to play outside?”
“I do, she made me clean you.”
“Or you remember that time you were yelling at mom because you were going to be late to superior football and you turned around into Dad’s right hand? I do, that shit was hilarious. Or remember that time I held you down and stuck a ninja turtles sword into your ear canal so you came at me with a baseball bat and Dad introduced you to the back of his hand?”
“You were an annoying little cunt.”
“I remember that shit. And even though you did stupid stuff like that they still treated you like a prince. Dad gave you every chance to become his successor. You cleaned cars at his shop, you swept the parking lot, hell, you even went to trade school to be a mechanic on Dad’s dime. He wanted you to be his little heir so god-damn bad that it made me sick. He never showed me that kind of attention. He never pushed me to take after him. It was like you came along and suddenly I just didn’t fucking exist.”
{ This is all very sad. }
”But I remember. I remember every god-damn thing. So at eighteen I figured fuck it. Dad didn’t care what I was up to anyways so I got a job somewhere besides his shop, I saved up my money and I put my ass through wrestling school. I can’t even remember the name of the place, it was in Waterbury. I know that much. I was trained by a couple guys who never did anything. But I didn’t care. I loved wrestling. I loved wrestling ever since I saw the world’s greatest hero of the eighties slam the world's biggest giant.”
“I wanted to do that shit.”
“So I put myself through school. Then I went out and tried to get booked. But they don’t book nobodies. So I started out sweeping up after shows for NEW back in the day. Then I graduated to ring crew. Then they let me ref a couple of matches. And then after a couple of years they had someone take their money and run and decided to give me a shot.”
“And I fucking nailed that shit.”
“They put me in the ring with some local jackass in upsate New York and I fucking killed him, Rob. It was amazing. And that was before Maniac or Chris Diamond. I was just wrestling as Chris Taylor in my black long pants and black boots. I couldn’t afford knee pads or elbow pads. But I got my shot. I killed it and then I got more shots and more shots and then I got called by a certain company out of North Dakota.”
{ It doesn’t exist. }
“I know, I’ve talked them to death and I’m literally the only fucking person who knows who they were. But they were big time to me at the time. They had a tv deal, they toured the country, they were what seemed like my big break. I flew out there, I came up with the name Maniac, I know, super original, I dreamed up the mask, paid some guy with the little bit of spare change I had to make it and the rest is a history no one else but me remembers.”
{ It’s ok big guy, I remember. }
”That shit came and went. The company closed like so many do with the promise to reopen one day. That was over twenty years ago. In the meantime there was a new young company making waves. NCW. And some of my old friends got the call up over there, Falcon, Angel, Faith. They got their shot at a truly world wide company. I was happy for them. Sure, I’d have loved it if they put my name in someone’s ear but who could blame them for just wanting to enjoy their success?”
“But then…”
“Then you showed up on their show. I was pretty fucking dumbfounded. Last I knew you were sucking Dad’s dick from under his desk and now you’re wrestling for one of the biggest companies in the world. So I called up my boy, Falcon and asked him what the fuck?”
“And then that skinny fat motherfucker gave me the bad news. I fucking inspired you. Me. You came to some of my shows, you watched me on the internet and you wanted to follow in your brothers footsteps. So he trained you. He taught you everything you knew at the time and then he used his sway in the company to get you a shot.”
“YOU!”
“And you got your shot. And you hit that motherfucker out of the park. You made yourself a household fucking name while I was wrestling jobbers in bars that could barely fit a professional wrestling ring. YOU! You won their world title, you became one of the biggest names in their company and I couldn’t even get a text message from my buddies who became your best fucking friends in the world.”
{ That shit hurt, BTW. }
”And when NCW did fucking come calling I knew it was you. I knew it. I knew it and I fucking hated it. But I did what I fucking had to do. I put on the mask. I pretended the pain didn’t really hurt. I played my part and did my best to get over in that fucking company but I couldn’t compare to you. I wasn’t Rob fucking Diamond.”
“I was just Maniac.”
“And that run was super short fucking lived and I found myself right back in the same bars wrestling all over the northeast wondering if I’d ever get another shot. Meanwhile you pissed away NCW. You picked a fight with the boss you couldn’t win and found yourself on the outside looking in. I thought, FINALLY! This little fucker is going to learn and then IWF happened.”
“I-W fucking F.”
“And that Patrick Bateman looking piece of shit made you one of the cornerstones of his new company. He put you out there with Spike and Angel and Alex fucking Jones and made you into what you wanted to be in NCW. And all the while I just had to sit back and watch it. Once again, no texts from Angel who was my boy long before he ever met Shelly. Nothing from Falcon who used to be attached to my hip. Nothing from that ugly mother fucker Faith who I think started a rap career.”
“You all forget me.”
“At least that’s what I thought at the time. So I put my focus into something else. I put the mask away and decided to do something I’d never done before. I decided to be myself. I started talking as myself. I started acting like myself. I started doing whatever the fuck I wanted to whoever the fuck I wanted. I figured if I wasn’t going to get the call for the character of Maniac then maybe I’d get the call as Chris Diamond.”
“But it never came.”
“It never fucking came.”
{ Chris grips the mask a little bit harder. }
”And then Shelly came back from the dead. She put ten years of training to use and became an absolute spectacle to behold. And then I got the call. But not from you or Falcon or Angel. It was Roberto fucking Verona himself. He wanted me to come in on a trial contract. See what I’m capable of and I knew it. I knew it right there and then.”
“He didn’t fucking care.”
“I knew it was you, Rob. I knew you put the bug in his ear. I knew you had some stupid fucking idea to bring the family together and what happened? I showed up and you pitched your stupid fucking idea and then there we were, The Work. You, Shelly, Terrella and me. The Diamond family together for the first time in professional wrestling as a unit.”
“And I hated every moment of it.”
“I knew I didn’t get there on my own merit. I knew Roberto had no interest in me. I knew I was working on a handout. But I still gave it my all. I still went out there week after week and tried to make the most of it. Stephen and I became tag team champions and I thought maybe, just maybe I was finally going to be recognized on my own, away from you. But we lost those belts and Stephen wanted to do his own thing. The bookings dried up for me for the most part until the IWF decided to make you and me a thing.”
“I clenched my teeth. I wrestled my heart out. I did everything I could to get us to where Stephen and I had gone but at the end of the day the chemistry just wasn’t there, Rob.”
“I hated you and I just couldn’t fucking stomach being a champion with you.”
“I was actually fucking relieved when you went down with an injury. I figured with you gone the IWF would finally give me a shot to stand on my own. And they did, to a point. But after a couple of TV title losses they decided to bench me until the more important members of my family were good to go.”
“Do you know what that shit does to a man?”
“I sat at home in my one bedroom apartment for almost a year waiting to get called in for a match. Week after week I watched IWF put on shows, I watched them give chances to absolute nothings of wrestlers. I watched them pander to social media, suck the dick of the IWC and do everything in their power to book everyone else’s top stars while I sat at home collecting my downside guarantee.”
“That shit broke me.”
“So when I went to see you, when you told me what the doctors said, I had a fucking idea. If the IWF wasn’t going to book me on their own then I wasn’t going to give them a choice anymore. I played my fucking part again. I was the dutiful brother. And when the opportunity presented itself I tried to end the career of one of the top baby faces in the company.”
“I did what I had to do.”
“And it fucking worked. It worked, Rob. For once I wasn’t spoken about as an afterthought to you. I was the focus. I was getting the bookings. I was getting the tv time. I was the focus for the first time since before you or Shelly were born.”
“Shit was finally all about me.”
“But you couldn’t let me have that, could you? You couldn’t give big brother five fucking seconds in the spotlight, could you? All I’ve wanted for nearly three fucking decades is a chance to show the wider world what I’m capable of and I finally got that chance by taking away yours.”
“And you came back anyway.”
{ Selfish bitch. }
”You came back and made everything about you again. The crowd is in your corner. The company is in your corner. Verona even paid for lawyers to make this bullshit contract for our match. If I lose I can’t even watch professional wrestling on television without an army of fucking lawyers suing me to hell and back.”
“Really, Rob?”
“Really?”
“You know what this business means to me. You know how bad I’ve wanted to be exactly where I am. You know damn well how hard I’ve worked even though you’ve undercut me every step of the way. I never got the chances you did, not with Dad, not with Mom and not with professional wrestling. I always had to fight from underneath and now at Survival of the Fittest I have to fight from underneath again.”
“No one wants me to win this match. No one. The fairy tale ending is you fighting back from the brink of a career ending injury and finally bringing a poetic end to my career. Losing is simply the only option for me in this cute little story you’ve written for yourself but tell me something, Rob?”
“Can you live with that shit?”
“Can you live with yourself knowing you’ve taken the only thing that means a damn to me from me?”
“Can you?”
“I don’t have a wife, kids, a girlfriend. I don’t have hobbies or friends or even people who wish me a happy birthday via text message. Professional wrestling is the only god-damn thing I have and when it’s finally gone I’m probably going to eat a bullet for dinner because fuck it.”
“Fuck it.”
“This is all I’ve ever wanted to do. This is all I’ve ever wanted to be. And you want to take it away because I saw a moment to finally get out of your shadow after thirty seven god-damn years? How can you blame me, Rob!? HOW FUCKING CAN YOU! From the moment you were born you’ve been the only thing everyone wants to talk about when we stand in a room together.”
“YOU!”
“I just wanted my moment to stand out. I just wanted a second to get noticed. I just wanted one percent of the success you’ve had so maybe, just fucking maybe someone out there would see I’m just as god-damn good as you are.”
“But you want to take it away from me?”
“You want to steal the spotlight one last time?”
“Okay. OH FUCKING KAY.”
{ Chris finally turns the mask around and pulls it over his head. He looks into the camera for the first time during this monologue. }
”Now you get to meet the Maniac. Thing is, Rob. Maniac was never a gimmick. It wasn’t something I just pretended to be. Maniac was every ounce of anger I held in my heart for you and the rest of our family. Maniac was every missed moment with Dad at the shop. Maniac was every loving hug I didn’t get from Mom. Maniac was every opportunity I never got.”
“But you did.”
“And now I’m going to unleash that shit on you.”
And unlike most weeks I don’t have a super long monologue where I trail off into other topics I have no business speaking on!
Unfortunate for you!
This week is super serious! You see, the Main Man is in a big match and when someone is in a big match they have to do something super serious. You can’t just come out here and cut a run of the mill promo, you have to do something over the top! Something special! You have to kill someone!
That’s why this week we are going to give you an intimate look into the personal life of the Main Man himself!
We transition from the black screen of I have been speaking over to a dingy motel room. I’m talking Motel 7 bad. This place doesn’t even have a google listing for you to give it one star. At this place? The cockroaches pay rent.
This is where we find the Main Man. He’s standing at the end of the bed. In the bed? A hooker. The hooker is very clearly pregnant, probably about seven or eight months if I had to guess and she’s only wearing a towel to cover her personal bits. }
”Are you sure we can’t just have the baby?”
”I’m real god-damn sure.”
{ Chris whips out a coat hanger. He very slowly unravels the top and straightens it out so it’s a super long hook. }
”Spread’em.”
{ The hooker spreads her legs apart while Chris applies a little bit of the old WD-40 to the coat hanger. }
”And here we go.”
{ Chris bends over with the coat hanger in the position and……….
WE CUT TO ANOTHER LOCATION!
There you go. Chris Diamond is now the proud father of a dead baby.
IT’S PAY PER VIEW WEEK! BAYBAY!!!!!!!
And the Main Man is going in all guns loaded and locked to unload all over whoever is on the other end of them. Except this isn’t any whoever on the other end this week. This week, at the paip, the Main Man has his little homo erotic brother on the otherside of the ring from him. So the Main Man is taken this shit extra serious. That’s why we find the Main Man in a seated position, sideways to our point of view, in his hands is the mask of the Maniac. }
”I fucking hate you, Rob…”
{ He says it with such CONVICTION! }
”When I was younger I thought it was because you took the shine off me. I was dad’s first and only son for a good ten years. Hell, I was their only kid for tenish years. Then Shelly came along and that was actually really cool. A little sister? At my age at the time? I was a real big brother. At least that’s what I thought. And then your little dumbass came along one year later. And suddenly it was all about Rob.”
{ The Main Man sounds sad but the way a bad ass sounds sad, like when Clint Eastwood is sad but you also know he’s totally capable of shooting a bunch of Asians without batting an eye. }
”All mom and dad cared about was you. Yeah, Shelly got her attention because she was the only girl but they treated you like the son they always wanted. And I didn’t get it. I still don’t fucking get it. You were such a little piece of shit. You were fucking annoying, whiney, cried to get whatever you want. Remember that time when you were five and you shit yourself next to the rocker because you were mad Mom wanted you to play outside?”
“I do, she made me clean you.”
“Or you remember that time you were yelling at mom because you were going to be late to superior football and you turned around into Dad’s right hand? I do, that shit was hilarious. Or remember that time I held you down and stuck a ninja turtles sword into your ear canal so you came at me with a baseball bat and Dad introduced you to the back of his hand?”
“You were an annoying little cunt.”
“I remember that shit. And even though you did stupid stuff like that they still treated you like a prince. Dad gave you every chance to become his successor. You cleaned cars at his shop, you swept the parking lot, hell, you even went to trade school to be a mechanic on Dad’s dime. He wanted you to be his little heir so god-damn bad that it made me sick. He never showed me that kind of attention. He never pushed me to take after him. It was like you came along and suddenly I just didn’t fucking exist.”
{ This is all very sad. }
”But I remember. I remember every god-damn thing. So at eighteen I figured fuck it. Dad didn’t care what I was up to anyways so I got a job somewhere besides his shop, I saved up my money and I put my ass through wrestling school. I can’t even remember the name of the place, it was in Waterbury. I know that much. I was trained by a couple guys who never did anything. But I didn’t care. I loved wrestling. I loved wrestling ever since I saw the world’s greatest hero of the eighties slam the world's biggest giant.”
“I wanted to do that shit.”
“So I put myself through school. Then I went out and tried to get booked. But they don’t book nobodies. So I started out sweeping up after shows for NEW back in the day. Then I graduated to ring crew. Then they let me ref a couple of matches. And then after a couple of years they had someone take their money and run and decided to give me a shot.”
“And I fucking nailed that shit.”
“They put me in the ring with some local jackass in upsate New York and I fucking killed him, Rob. It was amazing. And that was before Maniac or Chris Diamond. I was just wrestling as Chris Taylor in my black long pants and black boots. I couldn’t afford knee pads or elbow pads. But I got my shot. I killed it and then I got more shots and more shots and then I got called by a certain company out of North Dakota.”
{ It doesn’t exist. }
“I know, I’ve talked them to death and I’m literally the only fucking person who knows who they were. But they were big time to me at the time. They had a tv deal, they toured the country, they were what seemed like my big break. I flew out there, I came up with the name Maniac, I know, super original, I dreamed up the mask, paid some guy with the little bit of spare change I had to make it and the rest is a history no one else but me remembers.”
{ It’s ok big guy, I remember. }
”That shit came and went. The company closed like so many do with the promise to reopen one day. That was over twenty years ago. In the meantime there was a new young company making waves. NCW. And some of my old friends got the call up over there, Falcon, Angel, Faith. They got their shot at a truly world wide company. I was happy for them. Sure, I’d have loved it if they put my name in someone’s ear but who could blame them for just wanting to enjoy their success?”
“But then…”
“Then you showed up on their show. I was pretty fucking dumbfounded. Last I knew you were sucking Dad’s dick from under his desk and now you’re wrestling for one of the biggest companies in the world. So I called up my boy, Falcon and asked him what the fuck?”
“And then that skinny fat motherfucker gave me the bad news. I fucking inspired you. Me. You came to some of my shows, you watched me on the internet and you wanted to follow in your brothers footsteps. So he trained you. He taught you everything you knew at the time and then he used his sway in the company to get you a shot.”
“YOU!”
“And you got your shot. And you hit that motherfucker out of the park. You made yourself a household fucking name while I was wrestling jobbers in bars that could barely fit a professional wrestling ring. YOU! You won their world title, you became one of the biggest names in their company and I couldn’t even get a text message from my buddies who became your best fucking friends in the world.”
{ That shit hurt, BTW. }
”And when NCW did fucking come calling I knew it was you. I knew it. I knew it and I fucking hated it. But I did what I fucking had to do. I put on the mask. I pretended the pain didn’t really hurt. I played my part and did my best to get over in that fucking company but I couldn’t compare to you. I wasn’t Rob fucking Diamond.”
“I was just Maniac.”
“And that run was super short fucking lived and I found myself right back in the same bars wrestling all over the northeast wondering if I’d ever get another shot. Meanwhile you pissed away NCW. You picked a fight with the boss you couldn’t win and found yourself on the outside looking in. I thought, FINALLY! This little fucker is going to learn and then IWF happened.”
“I-W fucking F.”
“And that Patrick Bateman looking piece of shit made you one of the cornerstones of his new company. He put you out there with Spike and Angel and Alex fucking Jones and made you into what you wanted to be in NCW. And all the while I just had to sit back and watch it. Once again, no texts from Angel who was my boy long before he ever met Shelly. Nothing from Falcon who used to be attached to my hip. Nothing from that ugly mother fucker Faith who I think started a rap career.”
“You all forget me.”
“At least that’s what I thought at the time. So I put my focus into something else. I put the mask away and decided to do something I’d never done before. I decided to be myself. I started talking as myself. I started acting like myself. I started doing whatever the fuck I wanted to whoever the fuck I wanted. I figured if I wasn’t going to get the call for the character of Maniac then maybe I’d get the call as Chris Diamond.”
“But it never came.”
“It never fucking came.”
{ Chris grips the mask a little bit harder. }
”And then Shelly came back from the dead. She put ten years of training to use and became an absolute spectacle to behold. And then I got the call. But not from you or Falcon or Angel. It was Roberto fucking Verona himself. He wanted me to come in on a trial contract. See what I’m capable of and I knew it. I knew it right there and then.”
“He didn’t fucking care.”
“I knew it was you, Rob. I knew you put the bug in his ear. I knew you had some stupid fucking idea to bring the family together and what happened? I showed up and you pitched your stupid fucking idea and then there we were, The Work. You, Shelly, Terrella and me. The Diamond family together for the first time in professional wrestling as a unit.”
“And I hated every moment of it.”
“I knew I didn’t get there on my own merit. I knew Roberto had no interest in me. I knew I was working on a handout. But I still gave it my all. I still went out there week after week and tried to make the most of it. Stephen and I became tag team champions and I thought maybe, just maybe I was finally going to be recognized on my own, away from you. But we lost those belts and Stephen wanted to do his own thing. The bookings dried up for me for the most part until the IWF decided to make you and me a thing.”
“I clenched my teeth. I wrestled my heart out. I did everything I could to get us to where Stephen and I had gone but at the end of the day the chemistry just wasn’t there, Rob.”
“I hated you and I just couldn’t fucking stomach being a champion with you.”
“I was actually fucking relieved when you went down with an injury. I figured with you gone the IWF would finally give me a shot to stand on my own. And they did, to a point. But after a couple of TV title losses they decided to bench me until the more important members of my family were good to go.”
“Do you know what that shit does to a man?”
“I sat at home in my one bedroom apartment for almost a year waiting to get called in for a match. Week after week I watched IWF put on shows, I watched them give chances to absolute nothings of wrestlers. I watched them pander to social media, suck the dick of the IWC and do everything in their power to book everyone else’s top stars while I sat at home collecting my downside guarantee.”
“That shit broke me.”
“So when I went to see you, when you told me what the doctors said, I had a fucking idea. If the IWF wasn’t going to book me on their own then I wasn’t going to give them a choice anymore. I played my fucking part again. I was the dutiful brother. And when the opportunity presented itself I tried to end the career of one of the top baby faces in the company.”
“I did what I had to do.”
“And it fucking worked. It worked, Rob. For once I wasn’t spoken about as an afterthought to you. I was the focus. I was getting the bookings. I was getting the tv time. I was the focus for the first time since before you or Shelly were born.”
“Shit was finally all about me.”
“But you couldn’t let me have that, could you? You couldn’t give big brother five fucking seconds in the spotlight, could you? All I’ve wanted for nearly three fucking decades is a chance to show the wider world what I’m capable of and I finally got that chance by taking away yours.”
“And you came back anyway.”
{ Selfish bitch. }
”You came back and made everything about you again. The crowd is in your corner. The company is in your corner. Verona even paid for lawyers to make this bullshit contract for our match. If I lose I can’t even watch professional wrestling on television without an army of fucking lawyers suing me to hell and back.”
“Really, Rob?”
“Really?”
“You know what this business means to me. You know how bad I’ve wanted to be exactly where I am. You know damn well how hard I’ve worked even though you’ve undercut me every step of the way. I never got the chances you did, not with Dad, not with Mom and not with professional wrestling. I always had to fight from underneath and now at Survival of the Fittest I have to fight from underneath again.”
“No one wants me to win this match. No one. The fairy tale ending is you fighting back from the brink of a career ending injury and finally bringing a poetic end to my career. Losing is simply the only option for me in this cute little story you’ve written for yourself but tell me something, Rob?”
“Can you live with that shit?”
“Can you live with yourself knowing you’ve taken the only thing that means a damn to me from me?”
“Can you?”
“I don’t have a wife, kids, a girlfriend. I don’t have hobbies or friends or even people who wish me a happy birthday via text message. Professional wrestling is the only god-damn thing I have and when it’s finally gone I’m probably going to eat a bullet for dinner because fuck it.”
“Fuck it.”
“This is all I’ve ever wanted to do. This is all I’ve ever wanted to be. And you want to take it away because I saw a moment to finally get out of your shadow after thirty seven god-damn years? How can you blame me, Rob!? HOW FUCKING CAN YOU! From the moment you were born you’ve been the only thing everyone wants to talk about when we stand in a room together.”
“YOU!”
“I just wanted my moment to stand out. I just wanted a second to get noticed. I just wanted one percent of the success you’ve had so maybe, just fucking maybe someone out there would see I’m just as god-damn good as you are.”
“But you want to take it away from me?”
“You want to steal the spotlight one last time?”
“Okay. OH FUCKING KAY.”
{ Chris finally turns the mask around and pulls it over his head. He looks into the camera for the first time during this monologue. }
”Now you get to meet the Maniac. Thing is, Rob. Maniac was never a gimmick. It wasn’t something I just pretended to be. Maniac was every ounce of anger I held in my heart for you and the rest of our family. Maniac was every missed moment with Dad at the shop. Maniac was every loving hug I didn’t get from Mom. Maniac was every opportunity I never got.”
“But you did.”
“And now I’m going to unleash that shit on you.”
Well howdy there pardner.