| The Masturbation Proclamation; Showdown 8 RP #2 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Dec 8 2007, 11:24 PM (100 Views) | |
| Mike Polowy | Dec 8 2007, 11:24 PM Post #1 |
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2x Former sVo Champion
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At first there is only black. Not a shade of darkness, not a dark gray, but black. Blacker than the Apollo. Blacker than Chris Rock's last comedy special. No, folks, this is black like the black just before the fade in of a Michael Polowy promo. And oddly enough, one is about to begin. Sure enough, the black begins to fade into a real artsy looking living room, the new living quarters of the Sanctioned Violence Organization's own World Champion, Michael Polowy. Upon a real modern looking glass coffee table, we can see two khaki clad legs propped up on a stack of books. The camera pans upwards, revealing that the legs lead up to one certain arrogant champion. He's eating popcorn from a large bowl, and watching on his HDTV what appears to be "How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days." He turns away from the film for a second, adjusting his t-shirt, which is about two sizes too small. Polowy: That Matthew Macanawhatthefuckshisname, I'll tell ya... he's a funny guy. Real funny guy. Great script, too. That's the thing about movies, especially the ones that get you all teary eyed. They all have great scripts. Take Scarface. If they'd just shoved a microphone into Al Pacino's face, and told him to start talking tough talk, it would have been deader than Helen Keller directing traffic. But you give him a good script, and some great scenes? He'll give you a masterpiece. That's the difference between professional wrestling and the movies. They have all these takes to get it right. They have stunt doubles, and retakes. Do we have that luxury? No. And you can hand a wrestler a script, and tell him to say mean things, and damn, he'll deliver. Just a few hours ago, I watched Psyko Stevo stand in front of a bunch of people he probably paid to show up at his humble abode and pretend to be his friend, and try to talk me down as a boring champion. Don't mind the fact that he's so old, he farts dust. Don't mind that his social security number is in the single digits and he was forty seven years old when he went to Woodstock. Hell, don't mind the fact that he's not even my OPPONENT this week. And that's fine and dandy, when he can memorize a few lines, a few old jokes, and say a lot of baseless things about me being a paper champion. But you know what? I've been in this business long enough that I don't need a tough guy script. I don't need to be Al Pacino, trying to look like a badass. He kicks one foot over the other, crossing his feet on the stack of books and magazines below them. Polowy: That's the problem. Everyone talks about being interesting, and being a badass. Bullshit. Interesting is to ability like dick size is to a paraplegic. Sure, it looks great and you can bring it up in conversation, but it doesn't matter in the end. He thinks because he has farm animals in his promos and does things like ride around in a limo and visit ice cream dispensing establishments that he's entertaining. He things that because he spells his name like a World of Warcraft player that he's young, and hip, and cool. He thinks that because he got a little help from my opponent this week that I'm blown up and beaten, and he's the new hot shit. Well, I hate to shatter his ego, but I'm sure as hell not any of the things he's said I was over the last few weeks. I'm 'The Mike Effect', and my CAREER is my prime. So long as this man stands on his own two feet, he's in his prime of his wrestling career, and no one, not Psyko Stevo, not Johnny All-Star, and not even Jimmy Moretti can stop me from making that true. So Stevo, I say this to you, before I rid myself of your adolescent nonsense. I don't hate you. I don't fail to respect you. Mostly, I just feel sorry for you. You're going into Showdown and squaring off against Johnny All-Star and Nick Etch alongside the greatest champion this business has ever seen, and yet all you can think about is little old me and how bad you wish you could live up to my legacy. And you think you'll succeed? No, gramps. I think you'll fail where I triumphed, and I know that you will NEVER wear the sVo championship. I think you'll fall on your face, and you'll stay there. And you know why? Because you're too arrogant. Too brash. Too much like me. That's all you are, Stevo. Twice my ego with half my talent. You need to shut your mouth, show up at Showdown, and do the job you've been assigned this week... watch while I beat the living hell out of the man who screwed me over last week, Johnny All-Star. After that, you can go on to your eventual destiny of mid-carding with Nick Etch, and we can pretend that this little rift between us never existed. He stretches back, flicking some popcorn into his mouth and crunching on it loudly. Polowy: I had to deal with Stevo, you see, because I have a much bigger fish to fry here tonight. I'm talking about the man with the ugliest sideburns in professional wrestling, folks. Johnny All-Star. The man who couldn't bear only having his ass handed to him by the world champion once. The man who didn't realize his place when I destroyed him a few weeks ago. The man who signed a death certificate to sit right next to his father's when he cost me a match against Scuba Stevo last week at Showdown. I gotta hand it to Moretti, he handed me the win this week. It's two days before the show, and no one has seen or heard from Nick Etch. A no show is the best way guarantee that Johnny All-Star is screwed on Sunday Night. Christ, I can stand in the ring and eat Cheeto's for a half hour, while Stevo wrestles around with All-Star in a battle of the brainless. After all, with 'International' champion Mr. Etch sitting in the back and stroking his manhood for dear life, who'll be there to stop us? Hell, that's what he's doing to train for the big match. I'm lifting weights and watching chick flicks, and Nicolas Etch is roaming through midget Lebonese pornography and slipping the ol' tight grip on the organic Walrus. No, for Nicholas Etch, it seems the best way to train for a match is masturbation. So don't change your stations, it'll be quite the sensation if my proclamation comes into fruitation, and the exploitation of this wrestling nation was met with irritation, cause Etch doesn't show up due to erectile inflation! He laughs outright, shaking his head. With the popcorn bowl nearly empty, a sad look comes over his face for a moment, but he ignores it and moves on. Polowy: But that's just fine with me. The longer Scuba Stevo rides my nuts, and the longer Etch plays around with his, the better the chances are that I'm going to get the chance to give Johnny All-Star what's coming to him. In fact, I'm going ahead and making the challenge now, just in case the message doesn't get sent this week. Johnny All-Star, at Season's Beatings, I don't want Psyko Stevo in an "I Wish I Could Be Like Mike" match... I want Johnny All-Star in a Steel Cage match! And I'll put that title on the line, pal, make no mistake about that. Until then, I'll see YOU at Showdown, All-Star. And this time, I'll be watching my back. He nods his head knowingly, and aims his remote at the screen. The picture goes black. |
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-The First Sanctioned Violence Organization World Champion -Winner of the Victory Cup | |
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6:55 PM Jul 11