Post by fdcm on Apr 13, 2007 0:18:35 GMT -6
The lights go dim as the introduction to “YYZ” begins to play. As the guitar kicks in, red and gold lights flood the arena as a small army of scantily clad women appears from behind the curtain. Two of them roll out an impossibly long red carpet down the aisle. Because there is no pyro in POW, one woman stands on either side of the entryway holding up a small sparkler. FDCM now finally strolls through the curtain, basking in the imaginary glow of the crowd’s approval and what he clearly perceives to be a MASSIVE pyrotechnics display. He cockily adjusts his sunglasses and polishes the UWL world title belt, then puts an arm around each girl as they stroll down the red carpet together, both women still waving the sparklers around. As they reach the ringside area, FDCM walks alone up the steel stairs as the first two women who had been rolling out the carpet now hold open the ropes for him to step through. He spins in the center of the ring with three bright white spotlights focused entirely on him, while holding up the “Diamond Cutter” hand signal, then comes to a stop with his arms outstretched, welcoming what he imagines as the DEAFENING cheers of the crowd as his championship sparkles as bright as his ego.
One of FDCM's girls brings him a microphone, which he accepts. He looks around distastefully at the small Glen Burnie crowd before beginning to speak.
FDCM: I am out here tonight to make one thing crystal clear, and that is simply this: I. Do not. Want. To be here.
Ignoring the chorus of boos, FDCM continues undaunted.
FDCM: That's right. I am the World...Heavyweight...Champion. The Real World Champion. And the only TRUE champion in either territory of Power On Wrestling! Yet where am I wrestling this week? In the "Bush League." The "B-list." The "secondary" territory. And I don't mind telling you fans, you executives in the back, and anyone listening or watching this promo, that I will NOT stand for this!
I am a champion, and I demand to be treated like one! Yet every week I'm disrespected more and more. Jumped from behind by one opponent or another. Forced to come back to dumps like this to wrestle in front of "crowds" of 20 people.
And why? What did I do to deserve this? You'll notice I'm still taking the high road. Just look at the most recent series of matches between myself, Danny Danielson and Rich Morrison. BOTH of those cowards jumped me from behind while I was trying to fight the other fair and square! You may have noticed that I didn't interfere in their most recent match. I let it come to a clean finish, and my so-called "adversary" Morrison went over clean. Good for him. Too bad he doesn't have the common courtesy to let me do the same thing.
...and no, to you doubters, the fact that I'm hundreds of miles from the arena where their match took place wrestling in the other territory has NOTHING to do with the reason I didn't run in, thank you very much!
To the UWL execs...I actually want to commend you on one thing. You see, on the surface, you might think I'd be angry because despite clearly being the TRUE main eventer of this promotion...I haven't had a non-main event match yet...yet for some reason I'm not in either territory's title picture. I am not facing Shawn Stevens for his POW Midwest title at Spring Breakage. Nor am I involved in the so-called "Lethal Lottery" tournament for the new POW East title. But I'm not angry. Quite the opposite. What you people don't know is that Randall Lovejoy DID ask me...BEGGED me, in fact...to be a part of that competition. But I turned him down. Why in the WORLD would I want to be champion of some piddly-dink little territory nestled in the Armpit of America, when I'm ALREADY champion of the ENTIRE PLANET? You guys can keep your supposed championship to yourselves.
In fact, go ahead and give it to a guy like Big Ci. Here's a guy that embodies the kind of mediocrity you'd need to call yourself champion of a backwater company like this one! He comes out and makes jokes about my "tag team partner" Jack Daniels. That's clever. That's real clever.
Unfortunately, REAL champions aren't defined as "clever." They are defined as GREAT. As LIVING LEGENDS.
That's what I am, Big Ci. A living legend.
REAL champions don't come out and make jokes. They come out and win matches. Win battles. Win wars.
That's what I do, Big Ci. I win wars.
REAL champions aren't known as "company men." "Consistent" workers in the midcard. "Reliable" guys who will always step up and perform. They're known as gamebreakers. Lifesavers. The men who put asses in seats.
That's what I'm known for, Big Ci. You can say what you want about the companies that have gone down "on my watch," but there are endless reasons for that, and none of them have to do with me being any less than an EMINENT World Champion! That's right...I put asses in seats.
So take a good long look in the mirror, Big Ci. Can you say any of those things about yourself, honestly? Without breaking into that trademark belly-laugh of yours? Or at the end of the day, do even you accept that you're just a big goofy bastard? Maybe you are good enough to be the "champion" of this sorry excuse for a wrestling "territory"...but next to me, the REAL World Champion...you're just another jobber. Just another body for me to Diamond Cutter to the ground, and cover for the 1...2...3.
It sounds like some of you don't like what I'm saying...maybe you're excited that Power On Wrestling has come to your neck of the woods! Maybe you're a fan of Big Ci! Maybe you don't take kindly to guys like me who were born and raised here...and then got the f**k out as soon as they could, just like Robert Irsay!
Go ahead. Hate the words coming out of my mouth. Hate the things I think and say. Even hate everything that I am.
But at the end of the day, even you cannot deny what I do...defeat EVERY opponent that comes my way. Leap over EVERY hurdle. Defy EVERY challenge. And add more and more prestige to the MOUNTAIN of perfection that is symbolized by the ONE TRUE CHAMPIONSHIP...the world title belt resting right here on my bronzed, chisled shoulder!
I know...it rubs everyone the wrong way. Knowing that the very people they hate, are the ones so high above them they can never reach even a remotely similar plateau. They can never do a d**n thing about it.
It must eat you up inside, wrestling fans. It must eat YOU up inside, Big Ci.
But what are you gonna do about it? I'm the champ!
Without another word, FDCM kneels to the ground, gently placing the mic down on the canvas. Two of his Flying Diamond Cutter Girls walk up behind him and drape a flowing, white cape laden with jeweled sequins around his shoulders. Together, FDCM and his entourage strut backstage, looking for all the world like he just won the biggest fight of his life...and it hasn't even started yet!
One of FDCM's girls brings him a microphone, which he accepts. He looks around distastefully at the small Glen Burnie crowd before beginning to speak.
FDCM: I am out here tonight to make one thing crystal clear, and that is simply this: I. Do not. Want. To be here.
Ignoring the chorus of boos, FDCM continues undaunted.
FDCM: That's right. I am the World...Heavyweight...Champion. The Real World Champion. And the only TRUE champion in either territory of Power On Wrestling! Yet where am I wrestling this week? In the "Bush League." The "B-list." The "secondary" territory. And I don't mind telling you fans, you executives in the back, and anyone listening or watching this promo, that I will NOT stand for this!
I am a champion, and I demand to be treated like one! Yet every week I'm disrespected more and more. Jumped from behind by one opponent or another. Forced to come back to dumps like this to wrestle in front of "crowds" of 20 people.
And why? What did I do to deserve this? You'll notice I'm still taking the high road. Just look at the most recent series of matches between myself, Danny Danielson and Rich Morrison. BOTH of those cowards jumped me from behind while I was trying to fight the other fair and square! You may have noticed that I didn't interfere in their most recent match. I let it come to a clean finish, and my so-called "adversary" Morrison went over clean. Good for him. Too bad he doesn't have the common courtesy to let me do the same thing.
...and no, to you doubters, the fact that I'm hundreds of miles from the arena where their match took place wrestling in the other territory has NOTHING to do with the reason I didn't run in, thank you very much!
To the UWL execs...I actually want to commend you on one thing. You see, on the surface, you might think I'd be angry because despite clearly being the TRUE main eventer of this promotion...I haven't had a non-main event match yet...yet for some reason I'm not in either territory's title picture. I am not facing Shawn Stevens for his POW Midwest title at Spring Breakage. Nor am I involved in the so-called "Lethal Lottery" tournament for the new POW East title. But I'm not angry. Quite the opposite. What you people don't know is that Randall Lovejoy DID ask me...BEGGED me, in fact...to be a part of that competition. But I turned him down. Why in the WORLD would I want to be champion of some piddly-dink little territory nestled in the Armpit of America, when I'm ALREADY champion of the ENTIRE PLANET? You guys can keep your supposed championship to yourselves.
In fact, go ahead and give it to a guy like Big Ci. Here's a guy that embodies the kind of mediocrity you'd need to call yourself champion of a backwater company like this one! He comes out and makes jokes about my "tag team partner" Jack Daniels. That's clever. That's real clever.
Unfortunately, REAL champions aren't defined as "clever." They are defined as GREAT. As LIVING LEGENDS.
That's what I am, Big Ci. A living legend.
REAL champions don't come out and make jokes. They come out and win matches. Win battles. Win wars.
That's what I do, Big Ci. I win wars.
REAL champions aren't known as "company men." "Consistent" workers in the midcard. "Reliable" guys who will always step up and perform. They're known as gamebreakers. Lifesavers. The men who put asses in seats.
That's what I'm known for, Big Ci. You can say what you want about the companies that have gone down "on my watch," but there are endless reasons for that, and none of them have to do with me being any less than an EMINENT World Champion! That's right...I put asses in seats.
So take a good long look in the mirror, Big Ci. Can you say any of those things about yourself, honestly? Without breaking into that trademark belly-laugh of yours? Or at the end of the day, do even you accept that you're just a big goofy bastard? Maybe you are good enough to be the "champion" of this sorry excuse for a wrestling "territory"...but next to me, the REAL World Champion...you're just another jobber. Just another body for me to Diamond Cutter to the ground, and cover for the 1...2...3.
It sounds like some of you don't like what I'm saying...maybe you're excited that Power On Wrestling has come to your neck of the woods! Maybe you're a fan of Big Ci! Maybe you don't take kindly to guys like me who were born and raised here...and then got the f**k out as soon as they could, just like Robert Irsay!
Go ahead. Hate the words coming out of my mouth. Hate the things I think and say. Even hate everything that I am.
But at the end of the day, even you cannot deny what I do...defeat EVERY opponent that comes my way. Leap over EVERY hurdle. Defy EVERY challenge. And add more and more prestige to the MOUNTAIN of perfection that is symbolized by the ONE TRUE CHAMPIONSHIP...the world title belt resting right here on my bronzed, chisled shoulder!
I know...it rubs everyone the wrong way. Knowing that the very people they hate, are the ones so high above them they can never reach even a remotely similar plateau. They can never do a d**n thing about it.
It must eat you up inside, wrestling fans. It must eat YOU up inside, Big Ci.
But what are you gonna do about it? I'm the champ!
Without another word, FDCM kneels to the ground, gently placing the mic down on the canvas. Two of his Flying Diamond Cutter Girls walk up behind him and drape a flowing, white cape laden with jeweled sequins around his shoulders. Together, FDCM and his entourage strut backstage, looking for all the world like he just won the biggest fight of his life...and it hasn't even started yet!