Post by CBT on Jul 27, 2006 2:57:40 GMT -5
"Conflicting Reports"
Damned. That is my state of mind. I have finally hit rock bottom and nobody can prove me wrong. I stand in a room surrounded by mirrors but each mirror represent a form of symbolism, as to say I'm a mirror shell of my former self, and truthfully so, I stand in this room alone. Mirror mortal I look to my right and I see ZMaster. A legend. A former WFWF Champion. A man who has had my number time and time again. But I can't escape. I look to my left and I see a cynical grin. A man who calls himself a "King of Gore." A International Champion. A man who prides himself on beating me within a inch of my life. I can't escape. I try to retrace my steps as a means to retreat, but behind me stands Calvin Lee. A man whose paved his way from the gravel to very foundation. A man who has a opportunity to fill a void I left open in beating Obo. A man who has.. absolutely no history with me, and no reason to have my back. I can't escape. Or can I?
the scene is at some type of festivity. Music is blasting, People are dancing, and the smell of Bakla'wa and Kibee can be smelled a block away. We see flags descending polls, each representing a different country. Iran. Iraq. Israel. Jordan. Kuwait. But then a man shadows over the next flag. The man is none other then WFWF Superstar, Tha CBT. Who dressed in a suit looking like the guest of honor at the party. But he is just casually dressed. Always maintaining his image as a champion in and out of the ring. You may not always like him but he is what the business needs. He appears to be very comfortable even flirting with a few girls. He then walks toward us, revealing a Lebanese flag. He says something that is hard to translate, and then continues to walk. Grabbing a beer bottle off a table and then walking to the back of a building
CBT: You know, I had my own worries going into this match. As much as I knew this match couldn't have been booked in any way but a fair and unbiased manner. I can't help but feel that I'm being under looked in this promotion, grant it. I've given 2 years to this promotion without a complaint or demand. I feel like theres a misguided fuck you being directed at me, and someones just waiting for me to catch on. I mean, look at my partner. Little Calvin Lee, yes he has proved something.. no matter how bad you suck in the ring, you still can connive someone into believing you have potential.
CBT throws the bottle down, reaches down and grabs a new bottle unbeknown to the camera. Seemingly placed here by CBT for this particular occasion. He pops the cap off, takes a sip, and leans back. His eyes then begin to dilate as he smiles at his own shaken state.
CBT: But then theres Obo, the self proclaimed, "Anti-Christ." He called himself a
in' anti-christ! while I admit there must be some divine intervention behind Obo having my number countlessly. But Anti-Christ, he is not. He pails in comparison, does he even know what the fuck he's talking about? He expresses violence yet he's a anti-christ, someone please get a bible and thump this stupid bastard. I mean, in his words, he is pure on the outside but deep down he is evil. If anything by those comments, he proves. He is pure shit on the outside, and a naive little prick on the in. But I'm not concerned with Obo, it is ZMaster that has my undivided attention.
CBT takes another sip of beer, finishing the 2nd bottle he had, as he finds himself now sitting on the cement surface. Leaning back against the building, he sets the bottle down.
CBT: ZMaster you have truly done alot for me.. I'm serious. You have shown me, its better to give a beating then take shit from a over confident has-been who doesn't know when to retire and let others build there legacy. I don't get you. You are this good guy who listens to the fans and follows the rules. Yet you decide to get yourself counted out, brawl with me, and put me through a announcers table? Are you confused or something, your far from presenting the fans with a technical affair. But thats to be expected isn't it? You could never take a beating, you always had to take sh in a whole different direction, whether it was Michaels, Amazing, CBK, you don't quit. You know you couldn't beat me in a catch-as-catch-can type of match so you decide to brawl. But your mistake was your offense, because brawling is my domain not yours. Sure your partner Obo can believe he took me to my limit at Scars & Stripes, but ask Obo, ask Josh, ask Yukio, ask Slayer.. in a brawl with Tha CBT, you can not win. You fight Cbt, you lose. Its not debatable, its a predetermined, proven fact. But I'll let you live under the false pretense you call your last run in wfwf. You still got it, and come Superbrawl IV i'll exploit it. Not for the benefit of the fans, but despite them. Come Superbrawl IV. A era ends, and the passing of a torch begins.
The scene fades out, with CBT raising one of the empty bottles of beer. As the scene fades we are left with a panning image of the Lebanese flag.
Damned. That is my state of mind. I have finally hit rock bottom and nobody can prove me wrong. I stand in a room surrounded by mirrors but each mirror represent a form of symbolism, as to say I'm a mirror shell of my former self, and truthfully so, I stand in this room alone. Mirror mortal I look to my right and I see ZMaster. A legend. A former WFWF Champion. A man who has had my number time and time again. But I can't escape. I look to my left and I see a cynical grin. A man who calls himself a "King of Gore." A International Champion. A man who prides himself on beating me within a inch of my life. I can't escape. I try to retrace my steps as a means to retreat, but behind me stands Calvin Lee. A man whose paved his way from the gravel to very foundation. A man who has a opportunity to fill a void I left open in beating Obo. A man who has.. absolutely no history with me, and no reason to have my back. I can't escape. Or can I?
the scene is at some type of festivity. Music is blasting, People are dancing, and the smell of Bakla'wa and Kibee can be smelled a block away. We see flags descending polls, each representing a different country. Iran. Iraq. Israel. Jordan. Kuwait. But then a man shadows over the next flag. The man is none other then WFWF Superstar, Tha CBT. Who dressed in a suit looking like the guest of honor at the party. But he is just casually dressed. Always maintaining his image as a champion in and out of the ring. You may not always like him but he is what the business needs. He appears to be very comfortable even flirting with a few girls. He then walks toward us, revealing a Lebanese flag. He says something that is hard to translate, and then continues to walk. Grabbing a beer bottle off a table and then walking to the back of a building
CBT: You know, I had my own worries going into this match. As much as I knew this match couldn't have been booked in any way but a fair and unbiased manner. I can't help but feel that I'm being under looked in this promotion, grant it. I've given 2 years to this promotion without a complaint or demand. I feel like theres a misguided fuck you being directed at me, and someones just waiting for me to catch on. I mean, look at my partner. Little Calvin Lee, yes he has proved something.. no matter how bad you suck in the ring, you still can connive someone into believing you have potential.
CBT throws the bottle down, reaches down and grabs a new bottle unbeknown to the camera. Seemingly placed here by CBT for this particular occasion. He pops the cap off, takes a sip, and leans back. His eyes then begin to dilate as he smiles at his own shaken state.
CBT: But then theres Obo, the self proclaimed, "Anti-Christ." He called himself a
in' anti-christ! while I admit there must be some divine intervention behind Obo having my number countlessly. But Anti-Christ, he is not. He pails in comparison, does he even know what the fuck he's talking about? He expresses violence yet he's a anti-christ, someone please get a bible and thump this stupid bastard. I mean, in his words, he is pure on the outside but deep down he is evil. If anything by those comments, he proves. He is pure shit on the outside, and a naive little prick on the in. But I'm not concerned with Obo, it is ZMaster that has my undivided attention.CBT takes another sip of beer, finishing the 2nd bottle he had, as he finds himself now sitting on the cement surface. Leaning back against the building, he sets the bottle down.
CBT: ZMaster you have truly done alot for me.. I'm serious. You have shown me, its better to give a beating then take shit from a over confident has-been who doesn't know when to retire and let others build there legacy. I don't get you. You are this good guy who listens to the fans and follows the rules. Yet you decide to get yourself counted out, brawl with me, and put me through a announcers table? Are you confused or something, your far from presenting the fans with a technical affair. But thats to be expected isn't it? You could never take a beating, you always had to take sh in a whole different direction, whether it was Michaels, Amazing, CBK, you don't quit. You know you couldn't beat me in a catch-as-catch-can type of match so you decide to brawl. But your mistake was your offense, because brawling is my domain not yours. Sure your partner Obo can believe he took me to my limit at Scars & Stripes, but ask Obo, ask Josh, ask Yukio, ask Slayer.. in a brawl with Tha CBT, you can not win. You fight Cbt, you lose. Its not debatable, its a predetermined, proven fact. But I'll let you live under the false pretense you call your last run in wfwf. You still got it, and come Superbrawl IV i'll exploit it. Not for the benefit of the fans, but despite them. Come Superbrawl IV. A era ends, and the passing of a torch begins.
The scene fades out, with CBT raising one of the empty bottles of beer. As the scene fades we are left with a panning image of the Lebanese flag.
