Post by Deleted on Sept 4, 2017 17:57:22 GMT -5
The scene opens up to the Midnight Horsemen club room of the Midnight Steel Factory. The room is decorated with replicas of the titles that each of the horsemen have won. There is a DARC Tag Team Titles in one corner, and Lions Road Tag Titles in the other, the Seattle Pro Pride championship, Two SPW Endurance Championship, and a DARC Horse title belt. However, among all of these titles, the centerpiece is the Seattle Pro World Heavyweight Championship. The camera zooms in on it, as Billy Danielson steps into view. His smirk oozes with confidence. He looks at the title, and then back to the camera.
“It’s strange sometimes. Last year, I was a lot like the rest of you. I was a two-bit name, had only a year of wrestling in my bag, and I had a couple of minor titles to cling on to as my ‘evidence’ that I was good enough, even though I truly wasn’t. I sat there, and I looked at the bigger names, guys like Robb Daniels and Gray Malone, and I thought to myself that one day I was going to be like them.
I remember I did a lot of things. I beat Hall of Famers, I held two titles in two different companies at the same time, and I constantly busted tournament brackets. I had the promise, and the potential, but still it wasn’t enough. It took another year and a stint in the dumbest company I had ever worked for, for me to realize that I was never going to be like Robb Daniels and Gray Malone.
I was never going to be like them, because those guys were under me. Just like the rest of you are under me.”
Danielson looks to the camera with a snobbish disgust as he thinks about the West Coast Genesis locker room.
“I look at the lot of you, and all I see are a bunch of rookies, a lot like I used to be, and I see you clawing for your chance to be noticed. I see all of you vying for your chances to be ‘The Next Big Thing’ or the ‘Future of a Company’.How does it feel to know that all of that hard work is in vain? How does it feel, knowing that the bulk of you, won’t make t out of West Coast Genesis without little more than a few good wins, and a pat on the back? How does it feel knowing most of you will quit, or try to use your minimal fame to star in crappy movies with the likes of Gavin Grimes?
Most importantly…”
He smirks as he pauses dramatically.
“How does it feel to know that all of your hardwork has been usurped by a guy that has done it all, and is just playing with the rest of you like toys until his time is needed on the big brand? I bet it eats at all of you. I bet it fills you with a jealous rage, because someone can come into a company, and not even produce any hard work, but they are already in front of you in the rankings. And if it doesn’t… well, you’re in the wrong industry.”
He smirks at this comment.
“So remember, kiddos and newbies, it’s okay to be inferior. It’s okay to look at me in disgust, because after one match, I’m already a pillar of this company. It’s okay, because I am better than all of you, and even if one of you achieve the impossible and were to beat, let it be known, that it was certain;y a fluke, and it certainly won’t stop me from steamrolling through this brand on my way up to Redemption Wrestling.
I’ll see you all at HYPE #5!”
Billy Danielson wave goodbye, as the camera pans back up at the wall of titles. The light gleams of the Seattle Pro World Heavyweight Championship, blinding the viewers. When the light goes away, the scene goes black, and it closes.
“It’s strange sometimes. Last year, I was a lot like the rest of you. I was a two-bit name, had only a year of wrestling in my bag, and I had a couple of minor titles to cling on to as my ‘evidence’ that I was good enough, even though I truly wasn’t. I sat there, and I looked at the bigger names, guys like Robb Daniels and Gray Malone, and I thought to myself that one day I was going to be like them.
I remember I did a lot of things. I beat Hall of Famers, I held two titles in two different companies at the same time, and I constantly busted tournament brackets. I had the promise, and the potential, but still it wasn’t enough. It took another year and a stint in the dumbest company I had ever worked for, for me to realize that I was never going to be like Robb Daniels and Gray Malone.
I was never going to be like them, because those guys were under me. Just like the rest of you are under me.”
Danielson looks to the camera with a snobbish disgust as he thinks about the West Coast Genesis locker room.
“I look at the lot of you, and all I see are a bunch of rookies, a lot like I used to be, and I see you clawing for your chance to be noticed. I see all of you vying for your chances to be ‘The Next Big Thing’ or the ‘Future of a Company’.How does it feel to know that all of that hard work is in vain? How does it feel, knowing that the bulk of you, won’t make t out of West Coast Genesis without little more than a few good wins, and a pat on the back? How does it feel knowing most of you will quit, or try to use your minimal fame to star in crappy movies with the likes of Gavin Grimes?
Most importantly…”
He smirks as he pauses dramatically.
“How does it feel to know that all of your hardwork has been usurped by a guy that has done it all, and is just playing with the rest of you like toys until his time is needed on the big brand? I bet it eats at all of you. I bet it fills you with a jealous rage, because someone can come into a company, and not even produce any hard work, but they are already in front of you in the rankings. And if it doesn’t… well, you’re in the wrong industry.”
He smirks at this comment.
“So remember, kiddos and newbies, it’s okay to be inferior. It’s okay to look at me in disgust, because after one match, I’m already a pillar of this company. It’s okay, because I am better than all of you, and even if one of you achieve the impossible and were to beat, let it be known, that it was certain;y a fluke, and it certainly won’t stop me from steamrolling through this brand on my way up to Redemption Wrestling.
I’ll see you all at HYPE #5!”
Billy Danielson wave goodbye, as the camera pans back up at the wall of titles. The light gleams of the Seattle Pro World Heavyweight Championship, blinding the viewers. When the light goes away, the scene goes black, and it closes.