Post by kaleb on Apr 10, 2007 11:36:04 GMT -6
(KALEB SHADIX)
Come on Black, where the f**k you at?
Kaleb sat in his assigned hotel room apart of the Ameristar Hotel & Casino vicinity, lounged in a plush black leather sofa. Unable to stick with his serious demeanor, he smiled after his remark, noticing that it rhymed.
(KALEB SHADIX)
Hey, I’m a poet and I didn’t even know it.
He smirked once more, but finally returned to his serious roots.
(KALEB SHADIX)
All throughout the week I’ve continually waited for Black to make some sort of appearance and tell the world -- especially myself -- just what he will be doing at the Road to Spring Breakage, amongst other shit. Well, as the show draws closer, time to trash-talk the opposition is swiftly dwindling down, and I’ve yet to see Black around.
Kaleb looks puzzled. He wasn’t expecting Black to just remain silent throughout the entire week.
(KALEB SHADIX)
What’s up, Black? What’s going on in that head of yours? Hell, send the goofy slanted-eye Asian out to do your dirty work if you’re not up for it. I’m sure he’d have no problem showing that beaver-face and kissing your ass, explaining how you’re such a dominant big rig who can plow over any and everyone.
He rolls his eyes and smirks a bit.
(KALEB SHADIX)
I really wasn’t expecting this. Any other week Black shows up at least once and lets his unsympathetic intentions known. However, I haven’t had the luxury as of yet to be berated by the “Master of Mean”. Why is that? Do you not see me as formidable competition? Am I a waste of your time, and breath? Do I not deserve to be in that very ring with you, and ultimately undeserving of having a shot at that title of yours? Come on Black, I don’t care what your thinking in that thick milk-dud head, just let it be known.
Kaleb nods his head from side to side, almost disappointed in his seemingly dominant opponent.
(KALEB SHADIX)
I really couldn’t give two shits about you, Black, but I think you’re making a huge mistake by making yourself look like a f**king clown this week. You’re going down like a punk. What’s wrong, afraid to spit your game against me because you can determine your inevitable fate which consists of losing that title belt you hold dearly? All this time I thought you were one tough ass dude who doesn’t back down from anybody. I mean, that is the perception you want instilled in everyone’s minds about you, right? Well, that shit is wearing off, and fast. From my point of view, and probably everyone else’s, looks like you don’t have the balls, man. For f**ks sake, even Shadow of all people had the balls to spit some game and talk some shit against me! And you’re proving that you don’t, Black? f**king pathetic, dude. I can’t wait to take that damn title away from your fraud ass.
Shadix motions around his waist that the title is coming to where it rightfully belongs.
(KALEB SHADIX)
I hope you at least grow a set in time for our match Thursday, or are you going to bow out of the match just like you’ve done in the trash-talking department. Whatever the case, I’ll be getting that Television Title in my possession one way or another. I’ve worked hard to get that God damn shot, and I’m not going to blow it and allow the title to slip through my fingers.
He closes his fist, no room for anything to slip through. He believes the title is as good as his at this point.
(KALEB SHADIX)
Unlike some of the little bitches that have walked right in here and got their way, I’ve worked my way to getting a title shot. I don’t have any past credentials that will propel me straight to Heavyweight Title contender. I’ve got to earn my shit like a man, and that’s exactly how I want it to be. When you work hard for something and finally get it, then it feels just that much better rather than having it handed to you on a silver platter.
Kaleb fake coughs, and in between the name “Danny Danielson” can be audibly heard blended in.
(KALEB SHADIX)
Black, you big bitch, I hope you’re looking forward to joining Lance Erickson as a hack of a champion. Yeah, winning the title is all fine and dandy, but a real champion can not only win it but defend it as well. The first Television Champ Lance Erickson wasn’t able to do so, and it’s looking like that’s going to be the same story for you Black. That little pattern is going to end once I end up with the title, though. There isn’t any way I’m letting that shit get taken from me by any of the other losers on the POW roster. Congrats on your two week title reign Black, you outlasted Lance by a week, but either way you’re both f**king pathetic. Just wait until a REAL competitor has that belt in his possession. You won’t have to wait too long, because once Thursday comes around and the Road to Spring Breakage is done and over with, the belt will be where it belongs… and unlike the past two champions it’ll stay there.
With a large smile evident on his face, Kaleb raises his right arm and then widely opens his hand. He then places his hand in front of the camera, palming the entire lens so that all we see is complete darkness. With the scene assumingly over and the screen shrouded in obscurity, the feed dies out.
Come on Black, where the f**k you at?
Kaleb sat in his assigned hotel room apart of the Ameristar Hotel & Casino vicinity, lounged in a plush black leather sofa. Unable to stick with his serious demeanor, he smiled after his remark, noticing that it rhymed.
(KALEB SHADIX)
Hey, I’m a poet and I didn’t even know it.
He smirked once more, but finally returned to his serious roots.
(KALEB SHADIX)
All throughout the week I’ve continually waited for Black to make some sort of appearance and tell the world -- especially myself -- just what he will be doing at the Road to Spring Breakage, amongst other shit. Well, as the show draws closer, time to trash-talk the opposition is swiftly dwindling down, and I’ve yet to see Black around.
Kaleb looks puzzled. He wasn’t expecting Black to just remain silent throughout the entire week.
(KALEB SHADIX)
What’s up, Black? What’s going on in that head of yours? Hell, send the goofy slanted-eye Asian out to do your dirty work if you’re not up for it. I’m sure he’d have no problem showing that beaver-face and kissing your ass, explaining how you’re such a dominant big rig who can plow over any and everyone.
He rolls his eyes and smirks a bit.
(KALEB SHADIX)
I really wasn’t expecting this. Any other week Black shows up at least once and lets his unsympathetic intentions known. However, I haven’t had the luxury as of yet to be berated by the “Master of Mean”. Why is that? Do you not see me as formidable competition? Am I a waste of your time, and breath? Do I not deserve to be in that very ring with you, and ultimately undeserving of having a shot at that title of yours? Come on Black, I don’t care what your thinking in that thick milk-dud head, just let it be known.
Kaleb nods his head from side to side, almost disappointed in his seemingly dominant opponent.
(KALEB SHADIX)
I really couldn’t give two shits about you, Black, but I think you’re making a huge mistake by making yourself look like a f**king clown this week. You’re going down like a punk. What’s wrong, afraid to spit your game against me because you can determine your inevitable fate which consists of losing that title belt you hold dearly? All this time I thought you were one tough ass dude who doesn’t back down from anybody. I mean, that is the perception you want instilled in everyone’s minds about you, right? Well, that shit is wearing off, and fast. From my point of view, and probably everyone else’s, looks like you don’t have the balls, man. For f**ks sake, even Shadow of all people had the balls to spit some game and talk some shit against me! And you’re proving that you don’t, Black? f**king pathetic, dude. I can’t wait to take that damn title away from your fraud ass.
Shadix motions around his waist that the title is coming to where it rightfully belongs.
(KALEB SHADIX)
I hope you at least grow a set in time for our match Thursday, or are you going to bow out of the match just like you’ve done in the trash-talking department. Whatever the case, I’ll be getting that Television Title in my possession one way or another. I’ve worked hard to get that God damn shot, and I’m not going to blow it and allow the title to slip through my fingers.
He closes his fist, no room for anything to slip through. He believes the title is as good as his at this point.
(KALEB SHADIX)
Unlike some of the little bitches that have walked right in here and got their way, I’ve worked my way to getting a title shot. I don’t have any past credentials that will propel me straight to Heavyweight Title contender. I’ve got to earn my shit like a man, and that’s exactly how I want it to be. When you work hard for something and finally get it, then it feels just that much better rather than having it handed to you on a silver platter.
Kaleb fake coughs, and in between the name “Danny Danielson” can be audibly heard blended in.
(KALEB SHADIX)
Black, you big bitch, I hope you’re looking forward to joining Lance Erickson as a hack of a champion. Yeah, winning the title is all fine and dandy, but a real champion can not only win it but defend it as well. The first Television Champ Lance Erickson wasn’t able to do so, and it’s looking like that’s going to be the same story for you Black. That little pattern is going to end once I end up with the title, though. There isn’t any way I’m letting that shit get taken from me by any of the other losers on the POW roster. Congrats on your two week title reign Black, you outlasted Lance by a week, but either way you’re both f**king pathetic. Just wait until a REAL competitor has that belt in his possession. You won’t have to wait too long, because once Thursday comes around and the Road to Spring Breakage is done and over with, the belt will be where it belongs… and unlike the past two champions it’ll stay there.
With a large smile evident on his face, Kaleb raises his right arm and then widely opens his hand. He then places his hand in front of the camera, palming the entire lens so that all we see is complete darkness. With the scene assumingly over and the screen shrouded in obscurity, the feed dies out.