2014.07.18: PWN - LEGACY - Shootin' Wise..
Suddenly, Prince bows his head in a sombre state, disappointed that he has to waste his precious time working such a lowly opponent this week at Break On Through. His eyes tired, as a deep sigh escapes forth from his quick to fire and quite frankly acid laced lips.
“You see... I've seen a thousand and then some of kids like this Glory guy. Self-entitled little punks that feel they deserve the world for putting in the bare minimal effort. No talent hacks that sit on social media all day and have lame little wars with themselves. Fake player haters that can't even sign a contract properly. I'm sure everybody watching this right now has come across somebody like that at some point in their life or career. Especially members of LEGACY and MSW, since those promotions are chalked to the brim full of them.”
Prince clicked his neck back and forth, from left to right. Not particular caring that he had not only just typically insulated his uncle's company, or rather it's roster – but he'd seemingly done the same for it's “sister” promotion as well.
“You know the type... Keyboard warriors who talk a tough game on Twitter, when you hardly use it. But then when you start to tweet, they go silent like that Rina Kirilios bitch when she's booked to get up off of her skinny ass and actually work a match for once.”
Prince copped an egotistical smirk, revealing to each and every single solitary person watching this promo that he was indeed firing on all cylinders right here, right now here this morning – in typical Treborn fashion.
“Glory and his wannabe pretend brother have both threatened to come in here to LEGACY Wrestling and dominate the whole company. They've told everybody who's foolish enough to give them the time of day that they're going to first kick my ass, which more or less the entire pro wrestling industry knows is never going to happen. Then they've told us all in no uncertain terms that they're going to win very belt that LEGACY has to offer and pretty much piss all over the promotion after they do.”
Prince takes to the shaking of his head, and the sarcastic rolling of his eyes. Not only thinking that what his opponent and his phoney sibling have had to say about not only him, but also his uncle's livelihood – was absolutely knee slapping hilarious. But all in all one of thee most ridiculous notions that he had ever had the distinct pleasure of hearing in his entire time of existence.
“See... Glory can win all the free titles that he likes. He can travel the world, bullying owners into giving him title shots until the end of time. Marisol Hawkes does it, so why can't he? He can and he will. But like when she does it, or when anyone else doe sit for that matter – here in LEGACY, it won't make the damnedest bit of difference. Because not only is Peter Bauer not as stupid as he may seem to be at first glance, but there's a select few in the locker room that won't stand for it nor let it happen. I don't even have to drop any names, guys. Because those in the know already know exactly who I'm talking about – and if you don't know? Then that's on you. I guess you're just not important or relevant enough to deserve to know. That's why guys like this Glory douche don't know a damn thing about me, my family, LEGACY or the pro wrestling business on a whole for that matter.”
Prince's palm slapped against his forehead whilst he began to rampantly pace back and forth across the scene, a furious level of passion and desire exfoliating from his presence.
“Yeah, sure, Glory is a big dude. But then what? What other than his stupid addiction to steroids does he have going for him? I'd say nothing. And I'll tell you this right now for nothing... As big as he s, he's not as good and he never will be as good as guys like Cross or Luke Simmons. Those were guys that really revolutionized the industry for workers of their size. They did things that nobody else had ever done before or ever will again. Glory sure as shit won't do them and I'll tell you why... Because he doesn't have the balls, and he doesn't have the talent.”
Nodding his head up and down, Prince steps dead within his tracks, and focused his full and undivided attention upon the lens of the camera recording him at this very moment.
“Glory will deny that, of course. He might even have some cute little comments to counter it and try to make me look like I'm wring and if he's lucky, maybe even a little bit stupid. But as I already told you all, the people in the know already know none of that is actually ever going to happen. And after I beat Glory at Break On Through – and I will beat him there's no doubt about that in anybody's mind – he'll split, just like Mike Harrison split and splits from every company he's ever worked for. Ether that, or he'll adopt the Kirilios Mentality and he'll be a ghost on the roster and we'll ever see his face around here ever again.”
Prince chuckled, shaking his head once again.
“Look, bottom line is this... I could stand here and pace back and fore all day. I could rant and rave like David Van Dam all I want. But at the end of the day, as I said before nothing that either Glory or I say or do between now and Break On Through is going to change the outcome of the match in the slightest. He knows it. I know it. Anybody that's purchased a ticket tot he show to see me win the match knows it. So knock yourself out, kid. Send out all the mean tweets you like. Maybe you'll get lucky and get one of them read out by a cute girl on a podcast or a YouTube video, because that\s all your good for anyway. Lets just hope the video isn't shot by Jesse Styles, or it'll be piss poor quality and deleted after everyone rips the piss out of it.”
Cracking his knuckles, Prince winked at the camera, cockily.
