Post by fdcm on Apr 16, 2007 23:29:36 GMT -6
The scene opens in the now oh-so-familiar backstage area of POW Midwest, where our intrepid resident backstage interviewer, Greg Kilgreen is once again braving the weirdest of the weird...in order to get the story.
Kilgreen: Is it on...? Good.
Kilgreen straightens his tie and nods to himself before continuing.
Kilgreen: Greg Kilgreen reporting from just outside the locker room of Flying Diamond Cutter Man, who has agreed to grant a rare "on the record" interview in light of the upcoming battle with Rich Morrison at this week's Super DVD Taping EXTRAVAGANZA(tm)!!!
Looking only slightly nervous, Kilgreen knocks on the door to FDCM's dressing room, which has recently been changed out to resemble gigantic, iron double doors. A booming voice erupts from inside the room the moment he knocks, causing Kilgreen to nearly jump out of his cheap suit.
THE VOICE: ENTER, MORTAL!!!!!
With a gulp, Kilgreen pushes open the giant doors to reveal the same acid trip-paradise dressing room that has now become familiar as FDCM's humble abode. The man himself is seated in his throne-like La-Z-Boy, wearing a gaudy outfit that can only be described as Elvis meets King Booker. His ever-present UWL Championship is now also complimented by an honest-to-god golden scepter clutched in his right hand, with diamond-encrusted "FDCM" letters adorning the top. In his left hand he holds some sort of microphone which he was apparently using to magnify his voice.
FDCM: Pretty cool, right? I'm like the Wizard of f**king Oz or something.
FDCM turns to one of his ever-present Flying Diamond Cutter Girls, seated on the arm of the chair to his left. Leaning up right in her face, he once again brings the mic to his lips.
FDCM: MAKE ME A SANDWICH!!!!!
The booming voice is so loud that the girl literally falls backwards off the arm of the chair. Quickly getting to her feet and straightening out her dress, she hurries off to follow FDCM's order.
FDCM: This is the life, eh? The life of a champion! Sure was good of Tito Capaci to finally start treating me like the immortal I am, giving me last week off to recuperate and all.
Kilgreen: ...uh...didn't you have, like, an incredibly hard-fought battle with Big Ci in POW New England last week?
FDCM stares blankly at Kilgreen for a moment.
FDCM: Kilgannon, I don't have any idea what you're talking about. POW New England? What the hell is that? New England is only famous for two things, Clam Chowder and Tom Brady. There's no room for a POW division there. Clearly you're hallucinating.
Kilgreen: ...riiiiight. Well, that's not why I'm here anyway. I'm here to get your comments on your upcoming battle with Rich Morrison at Spring Breakage!
FDCM: Oh. Well that, I understand completely.
You see, I've done this dog-and-pony show before. The week before the big blowoff match, you huff and puff. You posture and pose. You talk all the trash you can think of to make yourself look better than your opponent. But to be completely honest with you, Gary baby, how in the world could I look any worse than Rich Morrison?
There are lots of different kinds of athletes. Take this Big Ci, for example, who I "supposedly" wrestled last week. He's a guy that's big and powerful. In the ring, he's a juggernaut. Some guys are like that. They're strong fighters in the ring.
But is Rich Morrison a strong fighter? I'm not sure I think so. For starters, and I don't want to sound shallow...but the man, and I use that term loosely, listens to Kevin Federline. Now I'm not normally one to point out such trifles, but since me and this guy threw down over my hating Yoko Ono I can only return in kind. Kevin Federline, or "K-Fed" as the hip young scenesters are apparently calling him, is a nobody. He's famous for no reason other than the fact that he was too retarded to wrap it up when he nailed Britney Spears. But that's apparently reason enough for him to get a record deal, WWE appearances, and countless other shit just handed to him. He's a talentless hack, who isn't good at anything he does, yet inexplicably is still handed opportunities to succeed.
As if coming to a sudden realization, FDCM shares a meaningful look with his remaining FDC Girl and chuckles under his breath.
FDCM: Come to think of it, I might understand why Rich is such a big fan after all.
But let's move on from that. Let's move on to the fact that Rich Morrison is not only a talentless hack, but an idiotic hypocrite! Once again, citing what Rich himself says about me..."The Diamond Cutter is the most overhyped move in wrestling." That's interesting to me, since the only difference between my Diamond Cutter and your "Queens Cutter" is that I haven't chosen to give it a nickname that is flagrantly suggestive of homosexuality and general fruititude! But hey, if your Cornhole Cutter is somehow a better move than my classic Diamond Cutter, by all means, don't allow me to question your logic, bubby.
Then of course, there's the attitude. "Look at me. I'm Rich Morrison. I'm controversial! I don't care if you don't like the things I say! LOOK AT HOW EDGY AND BRUTALLY HONEST MY SCATHING INSULTS ARE! SIZZLE SIZZLE SIZZLE."
Yawn, Richie Rich. Once again, I find myself thinking that in my nearly 20 years in this business, I've seen this movie before. The nexus of controversy. Always having to be the center of attention. Well that's all well and good, but it would be even better if you weren't intentionally rubbing people the wrong way just to give people a reason to give a shit you exist. Just to distract them from the fact that between the ropes, you're average at best.
But hey, we can't all be technical wizards. That's fine. You don't have to be. Not anymore. Sure! Just get on the stick and blow everyone away. That's a surefire ticket to stardom.
...but alas, Rich doesn't particularly do that, either. Unless of course, the brilliant new standard of auditory excellence is a pissed off teenager shrieking into a microphone about politics and glass ceilings and conspiracies and controversy. Whining about match results and booking schedules and stipulations. Complaining that it's just not fair that the world won't hand you Godhood on a silver platter just because you ask.
You know what the real problem is with Rich Morrison? I'll tell you straight up. He thinks the world owes him something. He comes into this business with his silver spoon, his daddy's money and his expensive car, and the world's biggest chip on his shoulder. And he can't grasp why, in the entire realm of possibility, professional wrestling as a whole has not fallen at his feet. Because all his life, that's what's happened. He's been given it all without lifting a finger. Just like the Paris Hiltons and Nicole Ritchies of the world, Morrison is used to being treated like his shit don't stink, despite never doing an honest day's work in his life to earn that status. He says it himself...he is "New Money." All buck, no bang. All style, no substance. Reaping the rewards of an honest man's work ethic a generation ago, and sucking it dry like a parasite!
You may say to yourself, "What a hypocrite FDCM is right now! Doesn't he put himself on a pedestal? Wear the most expensive clothes? Drink the most expensive champagne? Screw the most expensive women?"
This prompts an awkward look from several of FDCM's "assistants," though he doesn't seem to notice.
FDCM: But you know the difference between a guy like Rich Morrison...and a guy like me? I know what it's like.
I know what it's like, Killdeer. I know what it's like to be just like you. A helpless, inconsequential little peasant, absolutely meaningless in the grand scheme of things, without a penny to his name or a single accomplishment to his legacy. But you know what that also means?
I know what it's like to start at the bottom of the barrel, so I know how to work my way up it!
Where would Rich Morrison be right now if Daddy wasn't a successful entrepeneur? If his buddy wasn't Chester Coban? If his constant whining and scheming didn't have the promoter in his pocket? If he couldn't cheat and lie and attack people from behind, and take every possible shortcut in his career and in his life?
Would he be wrestling in the semi-main event of the country's fastest-growing wrestling company? Or would he be standing on a street corner, smoking a blunt and trying to "hustle" people like his apparent idol Mr. Federline?
You can have your theories and I'll have mine. But I think we both know the answer to that question.
Meanwhile, take a look at me. Take a look at the chiseled, 230-pound statue of EXCELLENCE that reclines before you! Not only the REAL World Champion, not only a LIVING LEGEND...but a SELF-MADE MAN!!! Just a hard-luck kid from the East Coast, a high school dropout, an alcoholic street bum that picked himself up by his bootstraps, laced them up and shoved them up the asses of a million punks like Morrison to get where I am today! And Rich Morrison has the AUDACITY to think he can coexist in the same arena as yours truly?
Rich Morrison and Flying Diamond Cutter Man are two athletes who don't belong in the same STATE at the same time, that's how far out of his league I am. Still, I'll make an exception, just this once, to teach the little pissant once and for all...that he may think he's the "Only Real Superstar"...but I'm the only REAL World Champion! He may think he's the "Undisputed King of Wrestling"...well Rich, I'm afraid I'm going to have to go ahead and file a dispute on that title. And after Spring Breakage, you'll never be able to show your face under that nickname again.
Kilgreen sighs with relief, apparently glad to see that FDCM isn't going to go through Rich's entire epic laundry list of nicknames.
Kilgreen: But what about the other x-factor in this match, FDCM? The special guest referee, Danny Danielson?
FDCM: Danny Danielson? Pleeeeeeaze. You wanna talk about someone who's an even bigger loser than Rich Morrison?
Look, I know Danielson thinks he leaped back into the title picture when he jumped me and Rich and laid us both out...from behind. And when he laid me out...from behind. But what happened when I met him head on? I knocked his scrawny ass into next week, then stomped his ugly head into the ground for leaving so soon. Hell, even Morrison beat him when they fought one-on-one. If Rich Morrison can beat you clean, dammit, you just aren't very good. So Danny Danielson can come out and stand in his little corner, wearing his yellow and black and white striped shirt, and when the time comes that I Diamond Cutter Rich's head clean off, I'm gonna have to go ahead and trust that he's got enough brain cells left in his head after the brutal ass-kicking he's suffered over the last couple of weeks to go down to the canvas and count to three. And maybe, just maybe, if he can do that without screwing up, I'll spare him another Diamond Cutter for his troubles.
But then again, it'd be much more fun to lay him out regardless...
Kilgreen: One final thing to mention. Between POW Midwest and POW New England, we're soon to have lots of sanctioned champions running around this company. Do you have any plans to challenge for any of those titles? Maybe to help legitimize the no-longer-sanctioned title you've been carrying around?
FDCM doesn't get angry. But he stares at Kilgreen for a very long time before answering.
FDCM: Listen closely, because I'm only going to say this once. I am the World Heavyweight Champion. Not Shawn Stevens. Not Tito Capaci. Not Josh Eagles or Cody Cross or Teddy Davis, or Eddie Buchalini or Takeshi Tanahashi or Mitsubishi Yamazuki or Kaneshiro Katagaki or Mitsuharu Musashi, or Steve McQueen or Mongoose McQueen or Peyton Manning or Dwyane Wade or Tiger Woods or PANDA or John Cena or the Undertaker. It's me. It was me yesterday, it's me today, it'll be me tomorrow, and until someone beats ME for MY title, THEY are the ones who will have to fight to have their championships..."Legitimized," as you put it. I am sick and tired of these paper champions standing up and calling themselves the world's greatest just because some promoter that can afford a few pounds of leather and gold says so. We live by one simple precept in this business...to be the man, you gotta beat the man. And last time I checked, nobody, but nobody, has beaten me!
So this week at Spring Breakage, I'm going to take Rich Morrison...this pretender, this would-be contender, this nobody in a champion's clothing...and make an example out of him. I'm going to show everyone out there what happens when the Diet Soda of wrestling champions steps into the ring with the real deal...and I can assure you, it won't be pretty.
And once that little bit of carnage comes to a conclusion...Shawn Stevens, I'm coming for you. Eastern Heavyweight Champion, I'm coming for you. And hell, whoever Jay Jefferson decides to anoint the "champion" of his red-headed bastard child new version of the UWL, guess what? I might as well just come after you, too! Because I am the one TRUE champion...the REAL World Champion! And just like any true messiah...I won't rest until every single false idol in this industry has been wiped out of existence. I don't care what I have to do, or how I have to do it. I WILL...get the respect, and recognition I deserve...as the only true heavyweight champion of this world.
Just then, the first FDC Girl comes back with FDCM's sandwich. It's a footlong Italian club on wheat, for those of you keeping score.
FDCM: Welp, food's here! Time for you to go, sweatstain.
Kilgreen sputters out a protest as the Flying Diamond Cutter Girls begin to push him out of the room.
Kilgreen: But we agreed on an hour long interview...!!!
FDCM retorts around a mouthful of Salami:
FDCM: Whoryu guh do bowwid? *gulp* ...I'M THE CHAMP!!!!
Unceremoniously, Kilgreen is chucked out of the dressing room, and his camera thrown after him. The double doors shut behind him, and from inside, loud party music begins to play.
Victory music before the battle has even begun.
Kilgreen: Is it on...? Good.
Kilgreen straightens his tie and nods to himself before continuing.
Kilgreen: Greg Kilgreen reporting from just outside the locker room of Flying Diamond Cutter Man, who has agreed to grant a rare "on the record" interview in light of the upcoming battle with Rich Morrison at this week's Super DVD Taping EXTRAVAGANZA(tm)!!!
Looking only slightly nervous, Kilgreen knocks on the door to FDCM's dressing room, which has recently been changed out to resemble gigantic, iron double doors. A booming voice erupts from inside the room the moment he knocks, causing Kilgreen to nearly jump out of his cheap suit.
THE VOICE: ENTER, MORTAL!!!!!
With a gulp, Kilgreen pushes open the giant doors to reveal the same acid trip-paradise dressing room that has now become familiar as FDCM's humble abode. The man himself is seated in his throne-like La-Z-Boy, wearing a gaudy outfit that can only be described as Elvis meets King Booker. His ever-present UWL Championship is now also complimented by an honest-to-god golden scepter clutched in his right hand, with diamond-encrusted "FDCM" letters adorning the top. In his left hand he holds some sort of microphone which he was apparently using to magnify his voice.
FDCM: Pretty cool, right? I'm like the Wizard of f**king Oz or something.
FDCM turns to one of his ever-present Flying Diamond Cutter Girls, seated on the arm of the chair to his left. Leaning up right in her face, he once again brings the mic to his lips.
FDCM: MAKE ME A SANDWICH!!!!!
The booming voice is so loud that the girl literally falls backwards off the arm of the chair. Quickly getting to her feet and straightening out her dress, she hurries off to follow FDCM's order.
FDCM: This is the life, eh? The life of a champion! Sure was good of Tito Capaci to finally start treating me like the immortal I am, giving me last week off to recuperate and all.
Kilgreen: ...uh...didn't you have, like, an incredibly hard-fought battle with Big Ci in POW New England last week?
FDCM stares blankly at Kilgreen for a moment.
FDCM: Kilgannon, I don't have any idea what you're talking about. POW New England? What the hell is that? New England is only famous for two things, Clam Chowder and Tom Brady. There's no room for a POW division there. Clearly you're hallucinating.
Kilgreen: ...riiiiight. Well, that's not why I'm here anyway. I'm here to get your comments on your upcoming battle with Rich Morrison at Spring Breakage!
FDCM: Oh. Well that, I understand completely.
You see, I've done this dog-and-pony show before. The week before the big blowoff match, you huff and puff. You posture and pose. You talk all the trash you can think of to make yourself look better than your opponent. But to be completely honest with you, Gary baby, how in the world could I look any worse than Rich Morrison?
There are lots of different kinds of athletes. Take this Big Ci, for example, who I "supposedly" wrestled last week. He's a guy that's big and powerful. In the ring, he's a juggernaut. Some guys are like that. They're strong fighters in the ring.
But is Rich Morrison a strong fighter? I'm not sure I think so. For starters, and I don't want to sound shallow...but the man, and I use that term loosely, listens to Kevin Federline. Now I'm not normally one to point out such trifles, but since me and this guy threw down over my hating Yoko Ono I can only return in kind. Kevin Federline, or "K-Fed" as the hip young scenesters are apparently calling him, is a nobody. He's famous for no reason other than the fact that he was too retarded to wrap it up when he nailed Britney Spears. But that's apparently reason enough for him to get a record deal, WWE appearances, and countless other shit just handed to him. He's a talentless hack, who isn't good at anything he does, yet inexplicably is still handed opportunities to succeed.
As if coming to a sudden realization, FDCM shares a meaningful look with his remaining FDC Girl and chuckles under his breath.
FDCM: Come to think of it, I might understand why Rich is such a big fan after all.
But let's move on from that. Let's move on to the fact that Rich Morrison is not only a talentless hack, but an idiotic hypocrite! Once again, citing what Rich himself says about me..."The Diamond Cutter is the most overhyped move in wrestling." That's interesting to me, since the only difference between my Diamond Cutter and your "Queens Cutter" is that I haven't chosen to give it a nickname that is flagrantly suggestive of homosexuality and general fruititude! But hey, if your Cornhole Cutter is somehow a better move than my classic Diamond Cutter, by all means, don't allow me to question your logic, bubby.
Then of course, there's the attitude. "Look at me. I'm Rich Morrison. I'm controversial! I don't care if you don't like the things I say! LOOK AT HOW EDGY AND BRUTALLY HONEST MY SCATHING INSULTS ARE! SIZZLE SIZZLE SIZZLE."
Yawn, Richie Rich. Once again, I find myself thinking that in my nearly 20 years in this business, I've seen this movie before. The nexus of controversy. Always having to be the center of attention. Well that's all well and good, but it would be even better if you weren't intentionally rubbing people the wrong way just to give people a reason to give a shit you exist. Just to distract them from the fact that between the ropes, you're average at best.
But hey, we can't all be technical wizards. That's fine. You don't have to be. Not anymore. Sure! Just get on the stick and blow everyone away. That's a surefire ticket to stardom.
...but alas, Rich doesn't particularly do that, either. Unless of course, the brilliant new standard of auditory excellence is a pissed off teenager shrieking into a microphone about politics and glass ceilings and conspiracies and controversy. Whining about match results and booking schedules and stipulations. Complaining that it's just not fair that the world won't hand you Godhood on a silver platter just because you ask.
You know what the real problem is with Rich Morrison? I'll tell you straight up. He thinks the world owes him something. He comes into this business with his silver spoon, his daddy's money and his expensive car, and the world's biggest chip on his shoulder. And he can't grasp why, in the entire realm of possibility, professional wrestling as a whole has not fallen at his feet. Because all his life, that's what's happened. He's been given it all without lifting a finger. Just like the Paris Hiltons and Nicole Ritchies of the world, Morrison is used to being treated like his shit don't stink, despite never doing an honest day's work in his life to earn that status. He says it himself...he is "New Money." All buck, no bang. All style, no substance. Reaping the rewards of an honest man's work ethic a generation ago, and sucking it dry like a parasite!
You may say to yourself, "What a hypocrite FDCM is right now! Doesn't he put himself on a pedestal? Wear the most expensive clothes? Drink the most expensive champagne? Screw the most expensive women?"
This prompts an awkward look from several of FDCM's "assistants," though he doesn't seem to notice.
FDCM: But you know the difference between a guy like Rich Morrison...and a guy like me? I know what it's like.
I know what it's like, Killdeer. I know what it's like to be just like you. A helpless, inconsequential little peasant, absolutely meaningless in the grand scheme of things, without a penny to his name or a single accomplishment to his legacy. But you know what that also means?
I know what it's like to start at the bottom of the barrel, so I know how to work my way up it!
Where would Rich Morrison be right now if Daddy wasn't a successful entrepeneur? If his buddy wasn't Chester Coban? If his constant whining and scheming didn't have the promoter in his pocket? If he couldn't cheat and lie and attack people from behind, and take every possible shortcut in his career and in his life?
Would he be wrestling in the semi-main event of the country's fastest-growing wrestling company? Or would he be standing on a street corner, smoking a blunt and trying to "hustle" people like his apparent idol Mr. Federline?
You can have your theories and I'll have mine. But I think we both know the answer to that question.
Meanwhile, take a look at me. Take a look at the chiseled, 230-pound statue of EXCELLENCE that reclines before you! Not only the REAL World Champion, not only a LIVING LEGEND...but a SELF-MADE MAN!!! Just a hard-luck kid from the East Coast, a high school dropout, an alcoholic street bum that picked himself up by his bootstraps, laced them up and shoved them up the asses of a million punks like Morrison to get where I am today! And Rich Morrison has the AUDACITY to think he can coexist in the same arena as yours truly?
Rich Morrison and Flying Diamond Cutter Man are two athletes who don't belong in the same STATE at the same time, that's how far out of his league I am. Still, I'll make an exception, just this once, to teach the little pissant once and for all...that he may think he's the "Only Real Superstar"...but I'm the only REAL World Champion! He may think he's the "Undisputed King of Wrestling"...well Rich, I'm afraid I'm going to have to go ahead and file a dispute on that title. And after Spring Breakage, you'll never be able to show your face under that nickname again.
Kilgreen sighs with relief, apparently glad to see that FDCM isn't going to go through Rich's entire epic laundry list of nicknames.
Kilgreen: But what about the other x-factor in this match, FDCM? The special guest referee, Danny Danielson?
FDCM: Danny Danielson? Pleeeeeeaze. You wanna talk about someone who's an even bigger loser than Rich Morrison?
Look, I know Danielson thinks he leaped back into the title picture when he jumped me and Rich and laid us both out...from behind. And when he laid me out...from behind. But what happened when I met him head on? I knocked his scrawny ass into next week, then stomped his ugly head into the ground for leaving so soon. Hell, even Morrison beat him when they fought one-on-one. If Rich Morrison can beat you clean, dammit, you just aren't very good. So Danny Danielson can come out and stand in his little corner, wearing his yellow and black and white striped shirt, and when the time comes that I Diamond Cutter Rich's head clean off, I'm gonna have to go ahead and trust that he's got enough brain cells left in his head after the brutal ass-kicking he's suffered over the last couple of weeks to go down to the canvas and count to three. And maybe, just maybe, if he can do that without screwing up, I'll spare him another Diamond Cutter for his troubles.
But then again, it'd be much more fun to lay him out regardless...
Kilgreen: One final thing to mention. Between POW Midwest and POW New England, we're soon to have lots of sanctioned champions running around this company. Do you have any plans to challenge for any of those titles? Maybe to help legitimize the no-longer-sanctioned title you've been carrying around?
FDCM doesn't get angry. But he stares at Kilgreen for a very long time before answering.
FDCM: Listen closely, because I'm only going to say this once. I am the World Heavyweight Champion. Not Shawn Stevens. Not Tito Capaci. Not Josh Eagles or Cody Cross or Teddy Davis, or Eddie Buchalini or Takeshi Tanahashi or Mitsubishi Yamazuki or Kaneshiro Katagaki or Mitsuharu Musashi, or Steve McQueen or Mongoose McQueen or Peyton Manning or Dwyane Wade or Tiger Woods or PANDA or John Cena or the Undertaker. It's me. It was me yesterday, it's me today, it'll be me tomorrow, and until someone beats ME for MY title, THEY are the ones who will have to fight to have their championships..."Legitimized," as you put it. I am sick and tired of these paper champions standing up and calling themselves the world's greatest just because some promoter that can afford a few pounds of leather and gold says so. We live by one simple precept in this business...to be the man, you gotta beat the man. And last time I checked, nobody, but nobody, has beaten me!
So this week at Spring Breakage, I'm going to take Rich Morrison...this pretender, this would-be contender, this nobody in a champion's clothing...and make an example out of him. I'm going to show everyone out there what happens when the Diet Soda of wrestling champions steps into the ring with the real deal...and I can assure you, it won't be pretty.
And once that little bit of carnage comes to a conclusion...Shawn Stevens, I'm coming for you. Eastern Heavyweight Champion, I'm coming for you. And hell, whoever Jay Jefferson decides to anoint the "champion" of his red-headed bastard child new version of the UWL, guess what? I might as well just come after you, too! Because I am the one TRUE champion...the REAL World Champion! And just like any true messiah...I won't rest until every single false idol in this industry has been wiped out of existence. I don't care what I have to do, or how I have to do it. I WILL...get the respect, and recognition I deserve...as the only true heavyweight champion of this world.
Just then, the first FDC Girl comes back with FDCM's sandwich. It's a footlong Italian club on wheat, for those of you keeping score.
FDCM: Welp, food's here! Time for you to go, sweatstain.
Kilgreen sputters out a protest as the Flying Diamond Cutter Girls begin to push him out of the room.
Kilgreen: But we agreed on an hour long interview...!!!
FDCM retorts around a mouthful of Salami:
FDCM: Whoryu guh do bowwid? *gulp* ...I'M THE CHAMP!!!!
Unceremoniously, Kilgreen is chucked out of the dressing room, and his camera thrown after him. The double doors shut behind him, and from inside, loud party music begins to play.
Victory music before the battle has even begun.