Post by veronicaaaahhhh on Jun 4, 2006 2:26:37 GMT -5
It’s half past nine in the evening in Gotch Harbor, a few minutes outside the outskirts of Blister City. Wayne McGurk stands alone looking over the harbor, contemplating. With the exception of fog horns and the occasional sound of speeding cars, the night itself is quite quiet; a stark contrast to the typical hysteria which often surround the city. Wayne stares deep down at the water; the city lights reflecting down at the silent mass of water like a skating rink.
As far as Wayne’s concerned, the whole damn world has become a
ing bitch. He wants out, but suicide isn’t an option. It was a weak idea if anything.
Wayne lights a cigarette and takes his gaze away from the water and sends it out towards the highway. Wayne secretly watches the slew of cars speed away; its passengers going back to their subtle lives of mediocrity. Upon watching the cars, he picks up on the different colors and license plates, instantly reminding him of a forgotten game played among children. Damn, finding a dirty word in a license plate makes him feel like a seventeen year old. Shit, another age issue.
Wayne never dwelled on his age, he was younger than Eddie Vedder, but damn that card made him feel old. Why?
Wayne:
Around this time eight years ago, I won my first of four World Heavyweight Championships, in an area not that far from where I stand. Here I am, thirty-five years old; eight years older. And I’m scheduled to fight a rookie on a match that shouldn’t even be on a pay-per-view.
Way I see it, I have two options:
1) Walk out.
2) Go to MSG and win the damn match.
Fighting Jason Viera is not a problem; I respect the kid if anything. But who the hell do you all take me for? I made the mistake of walking out on Ben Vega, and I pay the damn price for it with every waking day! I am a whore, I’m the WFWF’S whore, and I’m the fans’ whore! I give and give, while I watch you all take; reaping off the benefits of what is my wasted career.
Last January, I was all set for my Hardcore Fatal-Four-Way for Fully Charged, but I wased over and replaced on the last minute. I forgave the company and retuned back a couple months later- and you book me against a rookie, let alone the fact that Vanessa hasn’t even been booked yet.
So I dwelled on it and said: you all; I quit. Because to be honest there wasn’t anything for me and my wife here! We’ve got a good thing going in the SWF; I’m almost champion, and what’s the point of hanging around, just waiting to be sidelined each and every week. There paying me good money, in a place where I’m at least appreciated for what I do and give of myself. Something neither the guys in the back nor the fans have given me.
To all my fans who’ve followed me over the years and who are probably listening to this, I just want to use this opportunity to thank you all for supporting me, because lord knows no one would’ve known I was even here if it wasn’t for you all. But I promise you all this, I’m taking back the gold, but it isn’t going to be on their ring.
Wayne spits on the grass and takes a long puff of the cigarillo. Wayne watches a sixteen-wheel semi drive by; the very sight reminding him of his early years in the industry. He thought back to an early promo he had made twelve years earlier.
As far as Wayne’s concerned, the whole damn world has become a
ing bitch. He wants out, but suicide isn’t an option. It was a weak idea if anything.Wayne lights a cigarette and takes his gaze away from the water and sends it out towards the highway. Wayne secretly watches the slew of cars speed away; its passengers going back to their subtle lives of mediocrity. Upon watching the cars, he picks up on the different colors and license plates, instantly reminding him of a forgotten game played among children. Damn, finding a dirty word in a license plate makes him feel like a seventeen year old. Shit, another age issue.
Wayne never dwelled on his age, he was younger than Eddie Vedder, but damn that card made him feel old. Why?
Wayne:
Around this time eight years ago, I won my first of four World Heavyweight Championships, in an area not that far from where I stand. Here I am, thirty-five years old; eight years older. And I’m scheduled to fight a rookie on a match that shouldn’t even be on a pay-per-view.
Way I see it, I have two options:
1) Walk out.
2) Go to MSG and win the damn match.
Fighting Jason Viera is not a problem; I respect the kid if anything. But who the hell do you all take me for? I made the mistake of walking out on Ben Vega, and I pay the damn price for it with every waking day! I am a whore, I’m the WFWF’S whore, and I’m the fans’ whore! I give and give, while I watch you all take; reaping off the benefits of what is my wasted career.
Last January, I was all set for my Hardcore Fatal-Four-Way for Fully Charged, but I was
ed over and replaced on the last minute. I forgave the company and retuned back a couple months later- and you book me against a rookie, let alone the fact that Vanessa hasn’t even been booked yet.So I dwelled on it and said:
you all; I quit. Because to be honest there wasn’t anything for me and my wife here! We’ve got a good thing going in the SWF; I’m almost champion, and what’s the point of hanging around, just waiting to be sidelined each and every week. There paying me good money, in a place where I’m at least appreciated for what I do and give of myself. Something neither the guys in the back nor the fans have given me. To all my fans who’ve followed me over the years and who are probably listening to this, I just want to use this opportunity to thank you all for supporting me, because lord knows no one would’ve known I was even here if it wasn’t for you all. But I promise you all this, I’m taking back the gold, but it isn’t going to be on their ring.
Wayne spits on the grass and takes a long puff of the cigarillo. Wayne watches a sixteen-wheel semi drive by; the very sight reminding him of his early years in the industry. He thought back to an early promo he had made twelve years earlier.
*
UCW Thursday Nights:
Disciples Promo
January 14 1994
INT. SLEEZY BAR
Metallica’s “Wherever I May Roam” slithers its way into the scene as two men lurk out of the shadows. The two men are: Wayne McGurk and Chaz Mathers, bikers; appropriately called The Disciples. The two men at a first glance appear to be charter members of the Hells Angels.
CHAZ:
From New York City, to the Midwest, to Tijuana, Mexico all And all the way to Okinawa, Japan. The Disciples have been All over this world! You name it- we’ve been there- marking Our tracks and spilling blood!
WAYNE:
Everybody’s saying that it’s about time. The Firebirds are crap. The Von Barrens, Killshot, Bad Sin- their all crap, with good
Reason. Next week, we are going to bring to you all the new Face of tag team- No substitutes. No exceptions. No excuses.
From this moment forth, the UCW will never be the same again,
Because the Disciples have arrived.
CHAZ leaps over the salon and drives the bartender away. He takes an old bottle of whisky and chugs it down, he passes the bottle back to WAYNE. WAYNE takes a shot and spits it out to the camera.
FADE OUT:
*
The very notion that he actually went along with that made him cringe; he wasn't even allowed to say "crap" on tv back then, but it was still an exiting time. They were instantly successful, receiving a Road Warrior-like pop on a regular basis, but they became reckless. Within a year and half, Chaz was found dead in a motel in Poughkeepsie, New York, from an apparent heroin overdose.
Wayne was seated on his bike, still on the harbor, staring out at an ocean liner. He wasn’t done yet…
WAYNE:
That’s how I felt like a week ago, don’t get me wrong, I’m still bitter, but Lord kick me in the ass when I say that I’m actually determined! You see, I thought back and remembered the man I used to be; a side that not many of you in the WFWF have ever seen. While I still feel that you guys aren’t doing anything with me, I wanna have a little fun.
Promises have been made, and I’ve kept my end of the bargain, even though I’ve gotten nothing from the other end of the spectrum. But that’s ok, because I do firmly believe that some promises were meant to be broken.
So here’s what I’m going to do, I’ll be there on the 9th for Scars and Stripes, I’m walking into the pay-per-view and I’m gonna kick Jason’s ass. Because from this moment forth, I’ll be taking things into my own hands- the way I used to. I may very well be in the bottom of the rank, but I’ll take that top spot my way on my terms. That’s the way it used to be, and I’m not a **** anymore.
It's about time I stepped up on the plate and did something about it. I take what I want- and that's it. Nothing else; nothing more. It's just the way the world works.
Scars and Stripes is just the beginning. I will beat Jason so hard that I swear to God, that he’ll be asking for the sweet mercy of death. Jason, I await our battle, just know that I hold nothing against you; my aggressions stem from the world I plan to change. Because when the year closes, I will take the belt and proclaim myself as the WFWF World Heavyweight Champion, because I can.
Wayne kicks the bike into life and drives away.
_________________
I was rushing with this one...Wayne was seated on his bike, still on the harbor, staring out at an ocean liner. He wasn’t done yet…
WAYNE:
That’s how I felt like a week ago, don’t get me wrong, I’m still bitter, but Lord kick me in the ass when I say that I’m actually determined! You see, I thought back and remembered the man I used to be; a side that not many of you in the WFWF have ever seen. While I still feel that you guys aren’t doing anything with me, I wanna have a little fun.
Promises have been made, and I’ve kept my end of the bargain, even though I’ve gotten nothing from the other end of the spectrum. But that’s ok, because I do firmly believe that some promises were meant to be broken.
So here’s what I’m going to do, I’ll be there on the 9th for Scars and Stripes, I’m walking into the pay-per-view and I’m gonna kick Jason’s ass. Because from this moment forth, I’ll be taking things into my own hands- the way I used to. I may very well be in the bottom of the rank, but I’ll take that top spot my way on my terms. That’s the way it used to be, and I’m not a **** anymore.
It's about time I stepped up on the plate and did something about it. I take what I want- and that's it. Nothing else; nothing more. It's just the way the world works.
Scars and Stripes is just the beginning. I will beat Jason so hard that I swear to God, that he’ll be asking for the sweet mercy of death. Jason, I await our battle, just know that I hold nothing against you; my aggressions stem from the world I plan to change. Because when the year closes, I will take the belt and proclaim myself as the WFWF World Heavyweight Champion, because I can.
Wayne kicks the bike into life and drives away.
_________________
