2014.07.03: PWN - LEGACY - Oh I Am So Big And Muscular!

It is good to see that Mr. Romero put up an actual promo, in fact a response to my initial verbal thrashing of him. Part of me was hopeful, that maybe, my first match back would be relatively easy and that this punk would just fade away. I would never admit to it on camera but I didn’t know if I was completely back to in-ring shape. Regardless, it seems that Silas is definitely here to fight, which is good. The other part of me was itching for a good fight, so that way when I win, the world will know that I’m back.

When I watched his promo though, it kind of got some gears rolling in my head. A lot of people in this business know that I am at my best when I bring out the humor, the sarcasm, and the mockery of my opponents. Silas, you’ve given me some nice material kid, so let’s roll.

Boo ya! Woo! Yeah! Urgh!

The scene fades in inside of a gym, not unlike the one used in Silas’ promo. You catch yours truly in my usual ugly glory; I wasn’t ripped, in fact I had a rather large stomach which you could see jiggle as I swung at a punching bag. The large amounts of body hair bring to mind a large gorilla. Of course, if you’re not a dumbass and you’re watching closely enough, one thing is incredibly obvious. The punches I’m throwing are actually, really light. But the yelling, the roaring, the screaming, is so over-exaggerated it makes Shawn Michaels versus Hulk Hogan look like Savage/Steamboat.

Oh yeah! DAMN! Woo! See that punch! Look at me motherfucker! Laying into this piece of leather! You see this here? This is meant to be a demonstration of how TOUGH I AM. Yeah! You see, I can do this as well Silas! I can make myself look like a mean motherfucker and punch something over and over again!
 
Indeed I do, sort of. I continue to lightly punch the bag over and over again, but pretend I’m swinging hard and yell loudly and verbally. I stop, and go over to another part of the gym and in a joking manner lift up two pound barbells and curl them, again pretending that it’s extremely strenuous. Once I put it down I wipe my brow in an exaggerated manner, and walk away from the weights, winking to the camera. The camera follows me upstairs, revealing I was in the gym I have in the basement of my home. As I get to the top of the stairs I head into my kitchen, grabbing a cold Molson Canadian beer out of the fridge and sitting down on a stool near my cupboard. Now the fun starts.

Hello Silas. So, you decided to crawl up from under your Live Journal page and give me the “honor” of seeing your eyes before I rip them out of your damn skull come the next event. Good job my man, good job. And look at you! Standing there in the gym, huffing and puffing and punching that leather bag! Great! And, in the end, utterly meaningless. Don’t get me wrong; I mean, working out is a necessity in our profession. And despite my rather poor looking figure I can stand toe to toe with you or anyone else. But standing in front of the camera punching a bag has what purpose? None really. Were you seeking to intimidate me, or show off your anger and your rage? Well, whatever our reason, you failed miserably.

Long drink of beer, and then back to business.

You see Silas your problem here is that you are taking everything I said a little too literally. You see I’m used to dealing with people who can understand when someone might be exaggerating just a little bit, but they don’t call you out on it because it makes you look like a ridiculous asshole. But fine, we’ll play it your way. I didn’t actually “snap” anyone’s necks, but I did break someone’s neck within the confines of a match once. That sound better to you?

One other thing that struck me about what you said is you trying to again, take me down verbally over the whole “Crownless King” moniker. What is it you said? Oh right. “We’re not in Westeros.” That’s a Game of Thrones reference right? I haven’t watched the show. But you know what I say? No fucking shit, Sherlock Horse-Ass. Contrary to what you say, I am well aware there’s a difference between doing something in the ring and claiming to be a king. You talk about living in a fictional land and playing make believe. What? Do you like, honestly think I go around with a goddamn crown and scepter and a robe, with servants and shit? You think I’m like King Booker? I sure as fuck hope not because if so you are a sad and very, well, strange, little fucker.

Oh, but Kings and Queens and the whole monarchy thing have no meaning in the world we live in? This is a news flash Silas. The world that *I* live in is the world of professional wrestling. King Booker? King Hart? King Austin? King Helmsley? No meaning? Those names have more meaning then either Matlock or Romero, and I would only hope to aspire to one day be regarded as highly as those men. Don’t get me wrong. I am great, and terrific, and legendary. But my name would never be mentioned in the same breath as any of those men. That’s the other meaning behind my name. I’m crownless because I’m not regarded as highly as those that I aspire to, and I work my goddamn ass off every day, whether I was in the ring or not, to aspire to that goal. So that one day I could be regarded as a king in the world of professional wrestling.

Oh, and by the way, you want to play dress up and wear your colorful wrestling gear? You do that. I’ll be wrestling in my comfortable jeans and muscle shirt as I always have.

At this point, I finish my beer. And grab another one, or two. Hell, we’ll do three because we Canadians like our beer.

So I’m a protypical generic heel character? You’re serious? I’m about as far away from being anything typical, nor am I really a heel. As I said in my last promo, I’m like you in that fashion. So far away from giving a damn what the people think, so long established in this business that I cannot be defined as a heel or a baby face. I’m just, me.

Pardon me for tossing a pop culture reference into my promo by the way. I mean, it’s not like video games, music, movies, and other forms of media include pop culture references. Pardon me for including a reference to a hugely popular video series. I mean hell I could have come up with something on my own, but I had no need to do so. That one line summed up what I wanted to say perfectly. And besides, you did decide to, well, no longer be a bitch and show me your face. So it worked, right?

Drink beer. Smirk. Continue on.

So let’s see. You’ve taken my claims to royalty seriously, and you’ve mocked my country, which I’ll get to momentarily. You’ve also gone ahead and mocked my looks, talking about my teeth being messed up and claiming I need to take care of my appearance. I’ll say to you, the same thing I say to everyone else. Its wrestling, not a goddamned beauty contest. What you said is so ridiculous and unoriginal I’m not even going to bother to spend any more time with it. Oh, but you know what? I need to apologize. You told me not to compare myself to you ever again. And hey, you know what? You’re right. I compared myself to you, when in all actuality you don’t even deserve to be compared to me. So you’re right. I apologize to myself for making that comparison.

At this point the promo seems to be getting long winded so with another drink of beer and another finished can I decide to wrap it up.

I know exactly who I am Silas. You sit there and run your mouth saying I don’t know what I want to be. What, so I say I love the business and then call you a coward and a diva? Yeah, that means I love the business and I’m calling you out for being a coward. Yes, I did call you a coward Silas, for not wanting to put your life on the line for a “meaningless” championship belt. See THAT is what pisses me off about you. We risk our goddamn lives every time we set foot into the ring, and meaningless championships? Calling a championship meaningless is an insult to every great professional wrestler who ever held one. Why do you even wrestle again? Because you don’t like risking your life and you don’t care about being the best. Oh, right. You want to “knock people the fuck out” right?

You call me the sheep, yet you fell right in line with what I expected of you. I expected you to come out with some sort of big tough guy act, and you did. I expected you to mock my looks, and you did. I expected you to be a little soft in the head and judging from what you’ve been saying, I was right about that. I am the epitome of the sheep herder, as I can get those fans to boo or cheer based on what I say or do and I can get my opponents to react by picking out their flaws and saying the right things.

So, one last little thing. You’re little rant at the end there, trying to make me look stupid. You see, I didn’t disregard anything I said. YOU SIR, are the one who said that you were not cowering in your boots. I believe what you said, is that a man like me would make a lesser man cower in his boots, with you implying you were not, in fact, cowering in your boots. I simply expanded on that when I said that you may not be cowering now, but you would be cowering after the match is done. I didn’t take back anything that I said, nor did I contradict anything that I said. You are still a pussy, and you do still fear me. What I did, was make a statement, and a statement that will ring true once the match is over.

You see, I think over every little thing that I said, and it’s apparent that you didn’t. You know how I said earlier that I’m the epitome of the sheep herder? I knew you were going to try to make me look stupid, and you did try. Guess what? Just like with everything else, you failed. You tried to take me out of my game with every word you said, and you failed. You can’t psyche me Silas; you can’t tear me down because I’ve been torn down before by better men. You may not have heard of me, and that’s fine and dandy. But again, who’s signing got more notice, and more hype? The people know who I am, and they don’t know who the hell you are? You’re the underdog coming into this kid. If you win? It’s an upset in the eyes of the people. But there will be no upset, no victory for you. Don't worry about the research, because you don't have to do anymore. You're gonna get a crash course in everything involving me kicking your ass come Independence Day. Here’s a thought to leave you with. That country I come from? “Narnia” as you called it? Shed your American ignorance for once, and do some research on that country.

You’ll find that Canadians are great at one thing. Making Americans look bad.

With that final thought, the camera fades out, with hype for the match starting to reach a fever pitch.