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A few home truths
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The Graduate
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Scene 1
Int.TWW Arena.19.37hours
*"It's just one of those days ...*
So begins "Break Stuff" by Limp Bizkit, the new entrance music of "The Pride of TWW" - The Graduate. His trademark E=MC2 appears on the Tidaltron, exploding as red and blue strobes flicker across the arena. The Graduate soon appears on the ramp to a barrage of boos and jeers from the fans, scattered around the arena, early arrivals for a much-anticipated house show. He doesn't even acknowledge the abuse. Instead he wrinkles his nose a little, before striding purposefully towards the ring, wearing his red and blue tracksuit. He takes a mic from the ring announcer, but before stepping into the ring he lifts the apron and pulls something out from under it, it is a life-size dummy, similar to the one we saw Suicide destroy so impressively earlier. Now Jay speaks.
The Graduate: - "Y'know what, it's funny, I've been here barely a fortnight and already things are happening to me. For a start, I've become de-sensitized, nothing bothers me any more. You here those boos? They don't even make me blink, flinch any more.
But those boos do raise something of an interesting point. You see, I do believe they could be classified as some kind of a reaction. It's a fact, could be proven scientifically, the few fans with too much time on their hands, who turn up to an inferior house show, for an inferior federation, and who turn up for said house show two hours early, are now reacting to my presence.
And these boos have got me thinking a little. Because, sadly, while I am quite clearly provoking a reaction from these dull, obese, really quite obsessive excuses for human beings, in the back, in the locker room, where people have bodies that you guys can only dream of, I'm just ignored. It's a fact, I could scientifically prove that too, but to be honest you're all far too unimportant, ill-educated and un-intelligent, and you don't deserve to learn anything from my extensive research.
But I digress. What I am trying to say is that since I've arrived, the so-called superstars - whether they have mastered in the fine art of the chair shot and the breaking table, or whether they have a bachelorete in ladder matches, all of them have really denied my existence. Loki is, of course, the exception, but in all honesty, he's too small and unimportant to count.
Although that's not too say I've finished with "The Trickster", in fact far from it. He has denied me a shot at Gold on Friday, and that to me is a huge insult. So it is my new agenda in life to end the career of the man I have affectionately christened, Loki the Prickster...well, actually someone else christened him that first, but I thought it was quite "street" so I decided to use it myself...anyway, the man is on his last, pitiful, legs as things stand, so my new agenda should prove simple enough.
And I digress again, I do apologise, I hope I'm not boring you people...
What I am here to talk about is one Mr. Suicide...yes Suicide, while you may forgoe the age-old tradition of actually mentioning your next opponent in your promos, I fear that as something of a traditionalist I will have to keep in with convention. You Suicide, represent my big break. For some unknown reason, you are bordering on main-event status in this two-piece, low-budget, no-star federation, and so when I beat you, Mr Swift will have no option but to look at me as a superstar with some serious potential. He will finally realise that what I lack in excitement, I make up for in talent...you're the one I've been waiting for Suicide, my chance...and what attention do you give me?
It seems clear that in your head, Suicide, I am already consigned to the history books as another memorable victory. I get barely a mention in your promos, word backstage is that this will be a "squash", management are so confident that I'll tap-out to your primitive finishing move that they've only assigned us five minutes to wrestle...by then, they think, it'll be over, Suicide wins, Graduate loses, cause noone cares about him...
I rest my case.
So Suicide, big man that you are, destroying a dummy, a supreme, quite frankly terrifying display of strength...let me give you a demonstration..."
The Graduate picks up the dummy he "found" earlier. Getting it in the centre of the ring he draws back a fist. After a second, he lowers it to his side. He lets the dummy drop.
The Graduate: - "No Suicide, I don't need any uninspiring, cliched demonstrations...come tommorow evening I will prove myself amply. Come tommorow evening things will change on TWW for good. Come tommorow evening, you will be able to ignore The Graduate no-longer."
With that he politely hands the mic back to the ring announcer and, looking pleased with himself, heads to the back. Now there is no booing, because half the crowd are confused and the other half are asleep. Jay steps through the curtains to the back.
To be continued...
Scene 2 after Shockwave! |
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