Post by George Duke on Mar 26, 2007 15:29:06 GMT -6
"I'm going to forgive the things Vic said. I understand he's just upset - but he has no reason to be. Vic, look at it this way. Yes, you're the only one without gold on this team - but shouldn't that tell you that you're in great company for a reason. You're on the same team as us, and it's not because you're a pawn. You're not a pawn, you're not Mr. Showtime. If I were you, I'd be more concerned with getting ahold of the TV Title. But I encourage you to maintain the attitude you have toward the match. Join us as a team for this week. Work with us - all you really have to do is be on the same page. Macros' arm, Maverick and Showtime's legs, and just keep Fire out of the ring. We'll win this match, I'm sure of it. But if we destroy them like this, then the higher-ups will see. They'll see that Victor Bloodmoon is Championship material."
George Duke has been driving all day, only making the occasional stop at Rest Areas for gas and to use the lavatory. Night has fallen and George hasn't eaten a damn thing all day. At a rest stop somewhere in Indiana, George enjoys a quality meal. Truck-stops are great. It's not the Ritz - it's not even Denny's - but it's great. No fancy sh*t on the menu, and you're pretty much guaranteed the best ribs you've ever had. George orders the ribs and drinks a beer. He's been eying the motel next door through the window. It's time to call it a night. Get up early and get to Kansas City, to his new house (not home), before it's time to go to bed again. Thanks to being out of state, George can smoke in public places again. The cigar is lit before he even gets inside, and it continues smoldering in his empty section. He leans back and moans as he stretches. He leans forward to the camera and speaks softly, at least for George.
"I tell you guys what, we can work like a team better than any of the schmucks on the other side. Work those spots, and then use it against them. If we share the common target, then there is no room for loss, it's impossible. Work the key spots, don't let them tag out. While they're struggling to get to their corner, we'll have a few guys comin' from behind and knockin' their partners off the apron. It'll be total mayhem, but we'll be the ones in control. They won't know what hit 'em. Ninjas and gladiators with broken legs and arms aren't very effective. Showtime and Fire aren't effective anyway, but they'll be even less so if one can't walk and one keeps getting thrown out to the floor."
He spies the waitress coming back with his meal, so he hurries to finish.
"We'd win this match if we weren't organized. But with strategy, we'll OWN the match. They have a lot to lose with a loss like that. They'll be pitied for their injuries and their overwhelming loss. People will realize that they can beat the ninjas of the world. People will follow our example, and kick the piss out of these guys - and they'll be able to because their hurt. There is much to gain, we all have things to gain. MI proves they are the best, AGAIN. They prove they are the dominating force in the tag division. Victor Bloodmoon proves he is a helluva wrestler and might end up gaining a shot for some gold. I get to continue my reputation as a brutal, yet worthy champion."
George smiles as the waitress sets his food down.
"Besides... I like to hurt people."
George digs in - a full rack of ribs, covered with the sweetest BBQ Sauce man has ever seen. Thick cut, crispy fried encircle the rack and they seem to melt together as one food. Maybe coming out here won't be the worst thing...
George Duke has been driving all day, only making the occasional stop at Rest Areas for gas and to use the lavatory. Night has fallen and George hasn't eaten a damn thing all day. At a rest stop somewhere in Indiana, George enjoys a quality meal. Truck-stops are great. It's not the Ritz - it's not even Denny's - but it's great. No fancy sh*t on the menu, and you're pretty much guaranteed the best ribs you've ever had. George orders the ribs and drinks a beer. He's been eying the motel next door through the window. It's time to call it a night. Get up early and get to Kansas City, to his new house (not home), before it's time to go to bed again. Thanks to being out of state, George can smoke in public places again. The cigar is lit before he even gets inside, and it continues smoldering in his empty section. He leans back and moans as he stretches. He leans forward to the camera and speaks softly, at least for George.
"I tell you guys what, we can work like a team better than any of the schmucks on the other side. Work those spots, and then use it against them. If we share the common target, then there is no room for loss, it's impossible. Work the key spots, don't let them tag out. While they're struggling to get to their corner, we'll have a few guys comin' from behind and knockin' their partners off the apron. It'll be total mayhem, but we'll be the ones in control. They won't know what hit 'em. Ninjas and gladiators with broken legs and arms aren't very effective. Showtime and Fire aren't effective anyway, but they'll be even less so if one can't walk and one keeps getting thrown out to the floor."
He spies the waitress coming back with his meal, so he hurries to finish.
"We'd win this match if we weren't organized. But with strategy, we'll OWN the match. They have a lot to lose with a loss like that. They'll be pitied for their injuries and their overwhelming loss. People will realize that they can beat the ninjas of the world. People will follow our example, and kick the piss out of these guys - and they'll be able to because their hurt. There is much to gain, we all have things to gain. MI proves they are the best, AGAIN. They prove they are the dominating force in the tag division. Victor Bloodmoon proves he is a helluva wrestler and might end up gaining a shot for some gold. I get to continue my reputation as a brutal, yet worthy champion."
George smiles as the waitress sets his food down.
"Besides... I like to hurt people."
George digs in - a full rack of ribs, covered with the sweetest BBQ Sauce man has ever seen. Thick cut, crispy fried encircle the rack and they seem to melt together as one food. Maybe coming out here won't be the worst thing...
