Post by Tito Capaci on Mar 20, 2007 0:21:30 GMT -6
Tito: Let's get one damn thing straight, Kiddos. This ain't Gem City Wrestling. This ain't COPW. This ain't UWL, Lion's Road, or whatever the hell else piece of bullshit wrestling promotion you can think of.
Capaci is sitting in his beautiful new home just outside the Kansas City metro area. A huge ranch home, it sits on just over 250 acres and oversees a huge pond. Capaci is sitting in some nice patio furniture, overlooking the view with the pond to the right and the large pasture with horses to the left.
Tito: I'd be lying to you if I told you I wasn't a little pissed off. You've pushed my buttons and now you have to deal with the consequences. But after listening to you spout off at the lip like little kids at the daycare center not even close to being ready for the first day of kindergarten, I've realized this was an honest mistake.
Capaci shakes his head and props his feet up on the patio table in front of him. He grabs an apple from the fruit bowl in front of him and takes a bite.
Tito: In order to make this fair, I feel that I should educate you young, whippersnappers a little bit. Mr. Ego's head has evidently gotten so large, he his upper lip was blocking his vie of my accomplishments as he read my bio. Mr. Ego, pay attention because class in session. Get that toothpick out of your mouth and your head out of your ass for a moment and learn a few things.
Capaci waves something to be brought to him from off-camera. A butler, dressed in the formal black, carefully places two championship belts across the table so the camera can see them. Capaci takes a long look at them, then casually takes another bite of apple.
Tito: Take a look at the top belt. That, my friend, is the Universal Wrestling League Tag Team Championship. The fed had an unexpected closing, but nonetheless, I'm still one-half of the reigning UWL Tag Team Champions. Currently isn't exactly ancient history. Yes, Jay T. Nitro is the man who holds the other belt and yes, together, we're the greatest tag team in the history of pro wrestling.
Capaci shoots an eye down to the belt below the UWL Tag belt. He smirks a bit and takes his feet off the table. He leans and pats it.
Tito: This is the United Wrestling Company, pay close attention to what I'm about to say, BBK....World Heavyweight Championship belt. I beat Jay T. Nitro for this belt just five months ago. I've had several successful defenses against some of the toughest SOB's in the wrestling profession. This belt that I have before me says that right now, RIGHT NOW! I'm the best damn wrestler in the entire world. You think the ring isn't my turf? You think that the ring is a foreign place to me? FUH-GET ABOUT IT!!!!!!! I was slapping snot-nosed little kids like you around when you were still sucking your momma's left tit. I understand that was just a few weeks ago, you dumb fairy ass, but the fact remains that anywhere I roam is my turf. In the ring, backstage, in the parking lot, in the depths of the pit of hell, I will kick your dumb fairy ass so that you look more like Mr. scrambled Eggo that Ego.
Capaci could probably use a little blood-pressure medicine, but he doesn't really care at this point.
Capaci: The bottom line is, if you want to be a head honcho, you're best bet is to find some damn puro-style piece of crap up in Ontario to run this kind of crap. Hell, you probably won't even find the arena since you're going to be in Kansas. We're on the Missouri side of the state line, dumbass.
Capaci pulls a state map from under his seat and throws it on top of the belts.
Tito: Maybe that'll help Mr. Geography. You're going to learn the hard way. You can't intimidate me. You can't push me around. And you sure as hell can't beat me. This is where the grown-ups sit. You're nothing but a whiny-ass kid who hasn't graduated to the "big-people" table at Thanksgiving. These tag belts? They're going to go grown ups. I'm sending your ass to the back of the Happy Meal line for good at All In.
For a moment, Capaci has forgotten that Midnight Felon even exists. Capaci is more intimidated by Mary Poppins than Felon.
Tito: Felon, the only hood ornament you're going to be concerned about is when my size 13 boot is jacking up your grill. And since you wanna get all slangy and act like a damn thug hoodlum west-side, sign throwing piss-ant bitch, you know that means I'm going to be kicking your damn teeth in. It doesn't matter if it's personal or business. The bottom line is the bottom line. And that bottom line is that my partner and I are going to be kicking your ass from ringpost to ringpost and the only strap you're going to be touching after the match is the ones that keep your ass strapped down to the stretcher. When that happens, I won't be saying "My bad," like you, Leggo my Eggo. I'll be laughing my ass off. Now get that damn camera out of my house. [/font]
Capaci is sitting in his beautiful new home just outside the Kansas City metro area. A huge ranch home, it sits on just over 250 acres and oversees a huge pond. Capaci is sitting in some nice patio furniture, overlooking the view with the pond to the right and the large pasture with horses to the left.
Tito: I'd be lying to you if I told you I wasn't a little pissed off. You've pushed my buttons and now you have to deal with the consequences. But after listening to you spout off at the lip like little kids at the daycare center not even close to being ready for the first day of kindergarten, I've realized this was an honest mistake.
Capaci shakes his head and props his feet up on the patio table in front of him. He grabs an apple from the fruit bowl in front of him and takes a bite.
Tito: In order to make this fair, I feel that I should educate you young, whippersnappers a little bit. Mr. Ego's head has evidently gotten so large, he his upper lip was blocking his vie of my accomplishments as he read my bio. Mr. Ego, pay attention because class in session. Get that toothpick out of your mouth and your head out of your ass for a moment and learn a few things.
Capaci waves something to be brought to him from off-camera. A butler, dressed in the formal black, carefully places two championship belts across the table so the camera can see them. Capaci takes a long look at them, then casually takes another bite of apple.
Tito: Take a look at the top belt. That, my friend, is the Universal Wrestling League Tag Team Championship. The fed had an unexpected closing, but nonetheless, I'm still one-half of the reigning UWL Tag Team Champions. Currently isn't exactly ancient history. Yes, Jay T. Nitro is the man who holds the other belt and yes, together, we're the greatest tag team in the history of pro wrestling.
Capaci shoots an eye down to the belt below the UWL Tag belt. He smirks a bit and takes his feet off the table. He leans and pats it.
Tito: This is the United Wrestling Company, pay close attention to what I'm about to say, BBK....World Heavyweight Championship belt. I beat Jay T. Nitro for this belt just five months ago. I've had several successful defenses against some of the toughest SOB's in the wrestling profession. This belt that I have before me says that right now, RIGHT NOW! I'm the best damn wrestler in the entire world. You think the ring isn't my turf? You think that the ring is a foreign place to me? FUH-GET ABOUT IT!!!!!!! I was slapping snot-nosed little kids like you around when you were still sucking your momma's left tit. I understand that was just a few weeks ago, you dumb fairy ass, but the fact remains that anywhere I roam is my turf. In the ring, backstage, in the parking lot, in the depths of the pit of hell, I will kick your dumb fairy ass so that you look more like Mr. scrambled Eggo that Ego.
Capaci could probably use a little blood-pressure medicine, but he doesn't really care at this point.
Capaci: The bottom line is, if you want to be a head honcho, you're best bet is to find some damn puro-style piece of crap up in Ontario to run this kind of crap. Hell, you probably won't even find the arena since you're going to be in Kansas. We're on the Missouri side of the state line, dumbass.
Capaci pulls a state map from under his seat and throws it on top of the belts.
Tito: Maybe that'll help Mr. Geography. You're going to learn the hard way. You can't intimidate me. You can't push me around. And you sure as hell can't beat me. This is where the grown-ups sit. You're nothing but a whiny-ass kid who hasn't graduated to the "big-people" table at Thanksgiving. These tag belts? They're going to go grown ups. I'm sending your ass to the back of the Happy Meal line for good at All In.
For a moment, Capaci has forgotten that Midnight Felon even exists. Capaci is more intimidated by Mary Poppins than Felon.
Tito: Felon, the only hood ornament you're going to be concerned about is when my size 13 boot is jacking up your grill. And since you wanna get all slangy and act like a damn thug hoodlum west-side, sign throwing piss-ant bitch, you know that means I'm going to be kicking your damn teeth in. It doesn't matter if it's personal or business. The bottom line is the bottom line. And that bottom line is that my partner and I are going to be kicking your ass from ringpost to ringpost and the only strap you're going to be touching after the match is the ones that keep your ass strapped down to the stretcher. When that happens, I won't be saying "My bad," like you, Leggo my Eggo. I'll be laughing my ass off. Now get that damn camera out of my house. [/font]