Post by Eddie D. on Feb 29, 2016 1:41:13 GMT
I've gotta start this off the only way I know how.
You and me, Mike, we're on the high way to the Danger Zone baybay!
Except there ain't room enough for the both of us in my newly compacted Kia Soul so someone is gonna have to get thrown out at 75 mile per hour and eat themselves a great big helping of pavement!
And no, that probably won't be my only bad pun during the course of this promo but I needed to kick things off with a little bit of levity. See Mike, you've gone out of your way to piss me off in every way imaginable. You cost me my belt, Alexis sucker kicked my girl, destroyed my car and just been plain fucking annoying on social media.
If the Purge were real I'd kill you first.
Fortunately for you it isn't, fortunately for you I'm not legally allowed to snap your little neck like a fucking chicken bone BUT what I am allowed to do is beat you to a bloody fucking pulp in the center of the ring! And while I don't know what kind of match you and I are about to have, the only way you could stack the deck against me is to bring the entire fucking roster with you and my boy Warren is already in that match!
So extreme rules? Ladder match? First blood? Barbed wire? It ain't gonna matter Mike because there isn't a stipulation in the world that's going to stop me from beating you.
Just remember son, you asked for this, you wanted this, you came back from your little cry baby injury and slapped me across the face! So you ain't got no one to blame for this ass whipping except yourself! And when I subtract another six months from your career don't come crying to me about revenge again cause I'm only giving you what you asked for.
Rob Diamond tosses a shirt into a large black duffle bag with a sigh, packing up the last of his things before catching his next flight. Amy comes walking out behind him from the hotel bath room toweling off her blond hair. Rob tries to stare straight ahead at his bag as he throws a pair of jeans haphazzardly in on top of his other things.
Amy: Hey.
She comes up behind him, wrapping her bare arms around his chest, Rob pulls himself away to a puzzled look from Amy as she raises an eyebrow.
Amy: What's up?
He turned around slowly as her hands went to her hips and looked her up and down with a slight smirk, noting how beautiful she looked in her tight "Flash" Under Armour tank top over a pair of black yoga pants.
Rob: Look-
Amy: Hey, everything is going to be ok.
She rubbed his shoulder with a reassuring smile but he didn't return the favor.
Amy: That psycho can't touch your daughter.
Rob: Yeah... I know, this ain't about that.
Amy: Ok?
Rob stepped around her catching his reflection in the mirror, he hated himself right now.
Rob: I need you to go home.
Amy: What?
He turned around to face her, angry at himself for what he's about to say.
Rob: GO HOME!
She looked at him with shock, taken back by the tone and volume of his voice.
Amy: Rob-
Rob: This isn't a discussion! Go home Amy!
Amy: But-
Rob: But what!? But I've known you for like a month and a half and you're already following me around the country!?
Her face started to turn red as her heart raced a mile a minute with anger.
Amy: What the hell is this about? Huh? Are you worried Laszlo or his little princess are going to try some-
Rob: NO!
He stepped closer to her.
Rob: I want you to go home.
She looked him up and down trying to figure out if he was serious but she couldn't tell.
Rob: Go.
Without hesitation she slapped him across the face as hard as she possibly could and without another word between them she scooped up her own bag and slamed the door behind her on her way out. Rob let out a long sigh as he dropped down onto the edge of the bed, slowly looking up at his reflection again.
Rob: I'm sorry... I just... I don't want them to hurt you again...
He looked down as he whispered to himself
Rob: Forgive me...
And quietly we fade to black on this somber image of the most infamous man in professional wrestling.
Trust me, I get it. Because of me you've been unable to do what it is you love more than anything else in the world. Because of me you haven't been able to compete for the best professional wrestling company on the planet. Because of me you had to sit at home and watch as men you feel you're better than got to rise to the top and hold what I'm sure you feel is your Imperial Championship.
Because of me.
So I get it, I get the anger, the frustration, the contempt you're feeling right now and this need to give me what you think I deserve. I get all that Mike, I do and maybe if someone did the same thing to me I'd feel the same way...
OH WAIT! They did.
Spike Kane cut off my goddamn finger and cost me nine months of my career! Nine months where I could of been competing for the Imperial Championship. Nine months where I could of remained unbeatable. Nine months that could of cemented me as the Greatest of all Time! And when I came back I didn't go head hunting for Spike Kane, not because we're best buddies or closet lovers, allegidily, because shit happens inside the ring sometimes and either you come back better than ever or you might as well not come back at all!
You wanna blame me? That's fine. Blame me. But don't step to me like you owe me a fucking recepit. I didn't set out to hurt your bitch ass, I set out to win a match, I set out to do what I fucking love and shit happened. You want revenge? Then I'm a tell you something you should of learned a long ass time ago.
Stop living in the past.
It happened, you got hurt, time to grow the fuck up and get over it Mike. See there's a fucking reason nobody looks at like a legitimate threat, there's a reason you ended the title reign of Angel Blake and not one single person in the arena or watching at home bought that as the beginning of the undying legacy of Mike Laszlo. There's a reason you're not respected, feared or even fucking liked.
Because you're a petty selfish little prick.
And no, not like Alex Jones or Roberto Verona, see they're selfish, they're petty, they're arrogant but they back it up inside that ring. They say they're the best and then they prove it and they've been proving it for as long as they've been standing in a wrestling ring. But you? You run your mouth week after week, month after month about how goddamn good you are and then you follow it up by doing absolutely nothing!
I've faced every challenge Roberto has thrown at me with a smile. I've over come the obstacles, Diamond Cut every single sniveling little shit he threw at me and I will stand in that ring night after night and yell at the top of my lungs THANK YOU SIR MAY I HAVE ANOTHER!
I don't want a fucking hand out, like you, I don't wanna sit at home whining about what was taken from me, like you, I wanna step inside that ring and beat the shit out of everyone and anyone until Roberto Verona doesn't have a choice but to give me a shot at the Imperial Championship.
And you wanna cry about getting hurt?
Do us a favor and shut the fuck up.
Mike, I said this a couple of weeks and I'm going to say it again so you understand. I hurt you by mistake last time. Mistake. This time around? I'm going to do everything in my goddamn power to hurt you. And if you're lucky six months will be the quick recovery time because to be perfectly fucking honest with you I'm coming for yuo mother fucking career.
And if you ain't down with that then I've got two words for ya.
SUCK IT!
You and me, Mike, we're on the high way to the Danger Zone baybay!
Except there ain't room enough for the both of us in my newly compacted Kia Soul so someone is gonna have to get thrown out at 75 mile per hour and eat themselves a great big helping of pavement!
And no, that probably won't be my only bad pun during the course of this promo but I needed to kick things off with a little bit of levity. See Mike, you've gone out of your way to piss me off in every way imaginable. You cost me my belt, Alexis sucker kicked my girl, destroyed my car and just been plain fucking annoying on social media.
If the Purge were real I'd kill you first.
Fortunately for you it isn't, fortunately for you I'm not legally allowed to snap your little neck like a fucking chicken bone BUT what I am allowed to do is beat you to a bloody fucking pulp in the center of the ring! And while I don't know what kind of match you and I are about to have, the only way you could stack the deck against me is to bring the entire fucking roster with you and my boy Warren is already in that match!
So extreme rules? Ladder match? First blood? Barbed wire? It ain't gonna matter Mike because there isn't a stipulation in the world that's going to stop me from beating you.
Just remember son, you asked for this, you wanted this, you came back from your little cry baby injury and slapped me across the face! So you ain't got no one to blame for this ass whipping except yourself! And when I subtract another six months from your career don't come crying to me about revenge again cause I'm only giving you what you asked for.
Rob Diamond tosses a shirt into a large black duffle bag with a sigh, packing up the last of his things before catching his next flight. Amy comes walking out behind him from the hotel bath room toweling off her blond hair. Rob tries to stare straight ahead at his bag as he throws a pair of jeans haphazzardly in on top of his other things.
Amy: Hey.
She comes up behind him, wrapping her bare arms around his chest, Rob pulls himself away to a puzzled look from Amy as she raises an eyebrow.
Amy: What's up?
He turned around slowly as her hands went to her hips and looked her up and down with a slight smirk, noting how beautiful she looked in her tight "Flash" Under Armour tank top over a pair of black yoga pants.
Rob: Look-
Amy: Hey, everything is going to be ok.
She rubbed his shoulder with a reassuring smile but he didn't return the favor.
Amy: That psycho can't touch your daughter.
Rob: Yeah... I know, this ain't about that.
Amy: Ok?
Rob stepped around her catching his reflection in the mirror, he hated himself right now.
Rob: I need you to go home.
Amy: What?
He turned around to face her, angry at himself for what he's about to say.
Rob: GO HOME!
She looked at him with shock, taken back by the tone and volume of his voice.
Amy: Rob-
Rob: This isn't a discussion! Go home Amy!
Amy: But-
Rob: But what!? But I've known you for like a month and a half and you're already following me around the country!?
Her face started to turn red as her heart raced a mile a minute with anger.
Amy: What the hell is this about? Huh? Are you worried Laszlo or his little princess are going to try some-
Rob: NO!
He stepped closer to her.
Rob: I want you to go home.
She looked him up and down trying to figure out if he was serious but she couldn't tell.
Rob: Go.
Without hesitation she slapped him across the face as hard as she possibly could and without another word between them she scooped up her own bag and slamed the door behind her on her way out. Rob let out a long sigh as he dropped down onto the edge of the bed, slowly looking up at his reflection again.
Rob: I'm sorry... I just... I don't want them to hurt you again...
He looked down as he whispered to himself
Rob: Forgive me...
And quietly we fade to black on this somber image of the most infamous man in professional wrestling.
Trust me, I get it. Because of me you've been unable to do what it is you love more than anything else in the world. Because of me you haven't been able to compete for the best professional wrestling company on the planet. Because of me you had to sit at home and watch as men you feel you're better than got to rise to the top and hold what I'm sure you feel is your Imperial Championship.
Because of me.
So I get it, I get the anger, the frustration, the contempt you're feeling right now and this need to give me what you think I deserve. I get all that Mike, I do and maybe if someone did the same thing to me I'd feel the same way...
OH WAIT! They did.
Spike Kane cut off my goddamn finger and cost me nine months of my career! Nine months where I could of been competing for the Imperial Championship. Nine months where I could of remained unbeatable. Nine months that could of cemented me as the Greatest of all Time! And when I came back I didn't go head hunting for Spike Kane, not because we're best buddies or closet lovers, allegidily, because shit happens inside the ring sometimes and either you come back better than ever or you might as well not come back at all!
You wanna blame me? That's fine. Blame me. But don't step to me like you owe me a fucking recepit. I didn't set out to hurt your bitch ass, I set out to win a match, I set out to do what I fucking love and shit happened. You want revenge? Then I'm a tell you something you should of learned a long ass time ago.
Stop living in the past.
It happened, you got hurt, time to grow the fuck up and get over it Mike. See there's a fucking reason nobody looks at like a legitimate threat, there's a reason you ended the title reign of Angel Blake and not one single person in the arena or watching at home bought that as the beginning of the undying legacy of Mike Laszlo. There's a reason you're not respected, feared or even fucking liked.
Because you're a petty selfish little prick.
And no, not like Alex Jones or Roberto Verona, see they're selfish, they're petty, they're arrogant but they back it up inside that ring. They say they're the best and then they prove it and they've been proving it for as long as they've been standing in a wrestling ring. But you? You run your mouth week after week, month after month about how goddamn good you are and then you follow it up by doing absolutely nothing!
I've faced every challenge Roberto has thrown at me with a smile. I've over come the obstacles, Diamond Cut every single sniveling little shit he threw at me and I will stand in that ring night after night and yell at the top of my lungs THANK YOU SIR MAY I HAVE ANOTHER!
I don't want a fucking hand out, like you, I don't wanna sit at home whining about what was taken from me, like you, I wanna step inside that ring and beat the shit out of everyone and anyone until Roberto Verona doesn't have a choice but to give me a shot at the Imperial Championship.
And you wanna cry about getting hurt?
Do us a favor and shut the fuck up.
Mike, I said this a couple of weeks and I'm going to say it again so you understand. I hurt you by mistake last time. Mistake. This time around? I'm going to do everything in my goddamn power to hurt you. And if you're lucky six months will be the quick recovery time because to be perfectly fucking honest with you I'm coming for yuo mother fucking career.
And if you ain't down with that then I've got two words for ya.
SUCK IT!
Well howdy there pardner.