Post by clipper on Apr 18, 2007 17:20:05 GMT -6
April 16th, 2007 - 9:42 AM
The scene opened inside of what would appear to be a barren office, with unsheltered walls of bright white and a slick, brown, hard-wood floor, with only boxes and a large black desk at its back to cover it up. Box upon box lined itself up on top of one another next to the desk, and inside, on a leathery black chair, sat a good-looking young man, with lengthy golden hair and dazzling white teeth that shone when he smiled at the video camera.
"Howdy, I hope ya'll ---" He stopped and laughed before returning to normalcy as he spoke. "Hello, my good man. Definitely sporting of you to have come this early on such short notice. It's just...well, I had something important that I wanted to say to you.
"You see...you might be wondering why it is I'm sitting at this office this morning, an office littered with boxes upon boxes that undoubtedly signify my movement from this place to another. And, of course, it is, most unfortunately, my duty to explain to you people why it is I'm leaving.
"It's quite simple really, the reason I'm leaving Wall Street, where I have been mercilessly dominating the competition, to enter a new world with new competition, with likely less money, with tolls being taken on your body each and every day for nothing more than the entertainment of disgusting barbarians who wish to see nothing more than the spilt blood of hard-working men. It's because here...there are no more challenges. And there...? There are.
"I mean, look at it my way. You've been running over competition for what feels like forever, and you're working out one morning, and someone should come by and notice that you are a specimen, a beast, someone who could bring a hint of class and ravishing beauty and talent to a business that so often is filled with the roid-pumpers and pot-smokers and fat, lazy pieces of garbage. They saw what could be a Jesus, a Messiah...a savior! in Phillip Owen Weiss."
Phillip Owen Weiss grinned at the mention of his name, even at the mouth of his own self. "And," he said, much calmer than he was originally, "that is, in effect, exactly what I am...now, now, don't misunderstand me. I would hate for fools to take back foolish misconceptions of my chances here. I would hate for fools to take back mistakes about my abilities.
"You see, many people, so I have known in the past, have entered the realm of wrestling with this notion that they already are the best in this field, that they never have anything left to prove, that they are above all people in this realm, despite the fact that they have accomplished nothing, have come close to accomplishing nothing, and yet somehow they think they deserve the respect of the greats, like because of all the hype they should suddenly gain showers of praises from fans and colleagues.
"Well, let me make it quite clear from the get-go. I do not need the praises of anyone, nor would I ever want them. They mean nothing to me.
"Because each day will come a new challenge. Each day I will see my life flash before my eyes as the road gets tougher and tougher and tougher. And I don't give a damn what any of you think of me, so long as---by hook or by crook, either way---I climb the ladder, one rung at a time, until I reach the top of the food chain. Each day WILL be a new success story for Phillip Owen Weiss, for MISTER POW, I swear to God...and it all starts this week."
Phillip Owen Weiss smiled and licked his lips as the day of oppurtunity, the day of challenges, and the Dawn of Victory closed in around him...for he knew that, now and forever, he could throw the world into a frenzy around him...as long as he was pleased.
Fade to Black...
The scene opened inside of what would appear to be a barren office, with unsheltered walls of bright white and a slick, brown, hard-wood floor, with only boxes and a large black desk at its back to cover it up. Box upon box lined itself up on top of one another next to the desk, and inside, on a leathery black chair, sat a good-looking young man, with lengthy golden hair and dazzling white teeth that shone when he smiled at the video camera.
"Howdy, I hope ya'll ---" He stopped and laughed before returning to normalcy as he spoke. "Hello, my good man. Definitely sporting of you to have come this early on such short notice. It's just...well, I had something important that I wanted to say to you.
"You see...you might be wondering why it is I'm sitting at this office this morning, an office littered with boxes upon boxes that undoubtedly signify my movement from this place to another. And, of course, it is, most unfortunately, my duty to explain to you people why it is I'm leaving.
"It's quite simple really, the reason I'm leaving Wall Street, where I have been mercilessly dominating the competition, to enter a new world with new competition, with likely less money, with tolls being taken on your body each and every day for nothing more than the entertainment of disgusting barbarians who wish to see nothing more than the spilt blood of hard-working men. It's because here...there are no more challenges. And there...? There are.
"I mean, look at it my way. You've been running over competition for what feels like forever, and you're working out one morning, and someone should come by and notice that you are a specimen, a beast, someone who could bring a hint of class and ravishing beauty and talent to a business that so often is filled with the roid-pumpers and pot-smokers and fat, lazy pieces of garbage. They saw what could be a Jesus, a Messiah...a savior! in Phillip Owen Weiss."
Phillip Owen Weiss grinned at the mention of his name, even at the mouth of his own self. "And," he said, much calmer than he was originally, "that is, in effect, exactly what I am...now, now, don't misunderstand me. I would hate for fools to take back foolish misconceptions of my chances here. I would hate for fools to take back mistakes about my abilities.
"You see, many people, so I have known in the past, have entered the realm of wrestling with this notion that they already are the best in this field, that they never have anything left to prove, that they are above all people in this realm, despite the fact that they have accomplished nothing, have come close to accomplishing nothing, and yet somehow they think they deserve the respect of the greats, like because of all the hype they should suddenly gain showers of praises from fans and colleagues.
"Well, let me make it quite clear from the get-go. I do not need the praises of anyone, nor would I ever want them. They mean nothing to me.
"Because each day will come a new challenge. Each day I will see my life flash before my eyes as the road gets tougher and tougher and tougher. And I don't give a damn what any of you think of me, so long as---by hook or by crook, either way---I climb the ladder, one rung at a time, until I reach the top of the food chain. Each day WILL be a new success story for Phillip Owen Weiss, for MISTER POW, I swear to God...and it all starts this week."
Phillip Owen Weiss smiled and licked his lips as the day of oppurtunity, the day of challenges, and the Dawn of Victory closed in around him...for he knew that, now and forever, he could throw the world into a frenzy around him...as long as he was pleased.
Fade to Black...