Post by Donovan Basch on Jan 13, 2018 21:37:16 GMT -5
Scene fades in on the interior of Donovan Basch’s black Maserati Levante as he pulls into the parking lot of the Valley View Casino Center, the venue for tonight’s Pay-Per-View, Crossroad: Ascension. There, on the marquee, the LED display scrolls through the matches on the card for the evening, with the words “Donovan Basch vs Julianna DiMaria” scrolling through in the largest lettering that the sign would allow. As he passes the sign, he turns to his wife, WCG South Bay Champion, Danielle Basch. They both look at the sign, then turn to each other and smile.
Donovan: Well, here we are, Nixy... tonight’s the night.
Danielle: Indeed it is, Donny. Tonight, I defend my championship, and you FINALLY get the chance to put that little cu...
Donovan: Danielle, I’m surprised at you! I can’t believe you would talk like that?
Danielle: Well, believe it. She’s a cunt, pure and simple. You’ve seen the way she acts, the way she conducts herself. Trust me... you’ll be doing the world a favor by taking that title away from her. I for one can’t wait to see the look on her face once she makes that walk of shame back up the ramp!
Donovan chuckles as they continue to make their way to the parking lot. They find the lot used by the other superstars and pull into one of the vacant spots. Donovan cuts the engine and the pair open the doors.
Donovan: Well, I’ll do my best not to disappoint...
A noise from off in the distance catches their attention, and Donovan turns around to spot a crowd of fans gathered behind a barricade, some of which are holding signs that read such things as “Take Julianna #OFFLINE!” and “BASCH ERA.” As soon as Donovan and Danielle make their way to the back of the car, where the fans can get a better view, the cheering crowd gets even louder. Danielle looks at Donovan and smiles as he opens the hatch to retrieve their gear.
Danielle: Looks like I’m not the only one that believes you can do this.
Donovan smirks as he hands Danielle her bag.[/i]
Donovan: Why don’t you go on ahead and get situated in our dressing room, Nixy? I’ll be in shortly.
Danielle: Try not to be too long, okay?
Donovan nods his head and gives his wife a kiss before Danielle takes her bag and heads toward the arena. Meanwhile, Donovan grabs his own bag and shuts the hatch.
Donovan: Hmmm... might as well take this straight to the people.
With a deep breath, Donovan walks toward the crowd, the smile and the confidence building with each step. As he reaches the raucous gathering of fans, he pauses a few feet away from the barricade, turning to face the camera.
Donovan: Well, here it is, the day that seemed to take forever to arrive; the day that I finally get my shot at the West Coast Championship. And as you can see, the crowd here is already chomping at the bit to see everything that’s set to take place tonight.
He pauses, glancing back at the crowd as they cheer. The camera takes a moment to pan from one end of the crowd to the other, before eventually centering back on the challenger for the company’s top championship.
Donovan: No, there’s definitely no shortage of enthusiasm in this group of fans....
He throws his arms out and takes a step back, prompting the already-rowdy fans to make even more noise. He turns to them and nods, gently gesturing for them to bring the noise down enough for him to continue.
Donovan: Now, I find myself at the threshold of the biggest moment since I started wrestling… with a one-on-one match against what as you can see is quite the gathering of people that think that you, Julianna DiMaria, don’t deserve to be champion.
He pauses as the crowd unleashes a deafening torrent of boos.
Donovan: Wow… and these are the people you share a hometown with. You’d think they’d be eager to support their hometown hero. But then again, considering how you’ve done nothing but alienate the fans since you first darkened the doorstep of West Coast Genesis, I’m not at all surprised that they would react that way toward you. What is it that you think everyone has been trying to hammer through that head of yours, DiMaria? If you want any sort of respect, you have to earn it, and you don’t do that by spitting on the very people that pay money to see you and everyone else on the roster compete.
And just as I suspected you would, you resort to the foot-stomping, pouting, temper-tantrum throwing brat that everyone sees you as, acting like you are the one being victimized. You’re the one talking about “layers” like there’s so much more to you than what you’ve put out there. Well then... tell me, “champ.” What is there beneath the façade of the loud-mouthed, obnoxious, toxic person you portray yourself as both in front of the camera and behind the Twitter keyboard?
Let’s take a look at Twitter, shall we?
He pulls out his cell phone, opening up the Twitter app and quickly navigating to Julianna’s Twitter page.
Donovan: “Time to sink into depression. Again.”
Why? Because the rest of the wrestling world should strive to be just as self-entitled as you are? Should the whole lot of us scream, stomp our feet and hold our breath like petulant children who were just told no for the first time?
“ENVY ME!”
What’s to envy? Outside of the West Coast Championship, what is it that you have that anyone else would want? Parents that you’ve openly bashed because they didn’t throw a party after you won the title? A little runt of a rookie wrestler for a boyfriend who only showed interest in you because he knew his cousin would get angry? And what happens when he can no longer ride the coattails of the West Coast Champion? Will he still worship the ground you walk on then? Somehow, I doubt that.
And of course, my favorite… the one where you called all of Twitter pawns in YOUR world, and how you were going to shatter the hopes and dreams of everyone that wants to see you fail. Only there’s just one problem with that attitude. Do you see these people behind me?
Again, Donovan gestures toward the crowd, who cheer as the camera pans past them.
Donovan: From the way they’re carrying on, even in the event you’re able to escape from this arena with the West Coast Championship in hand, somehow I think all you will wind up doing is fueling the fires of their hatred even more than you ever have. The only thing you will have succeeded at is making them hate you all the more; to want more than ever to see you crash and burn.
That is, of course, on the off chance that you manage to get past me. You see, there’s one major difference between me and your last two challengers for the West Coast Championship. And that difference is that I’ve actually shown that I have the drive and the desire to take that title from you. And in a few short hours, I will do what they were unable to do, and that’s finally wrench that title from your talons and watch as you scream like the hideous harpy that you are when you realize that you can no longer lay claim to the title you’ve latched onto like a life preserver in the middle of the ocean.
You want to talk about layers… well, let’s take a look at something else that has layers. Take the onion, for example. A common prank is to coat an onion in the same candy shell that you would use for candied apples, and then wait for someone to bite into it. Sure, it looks delicious on the outside, but the second someone gets past the candy shell and bites into the layers beneath, they’re hit with that tear-inducing sting that makes you immediately spit it out. These people have already gotten past the candy shell, and they now know the bitterness that lies beneath it. They’re tired of it, everyone else in the locker room is tired of it, and I’m the one with the opportunity to do something about it. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
Tonight, Julianna….
He pauses as the crowd’s chanting reaches an almost deafening level. He steps back to the point where he’s almost right up against the barricade, and the fans reach out to pat him on the shoulders.
Donovan: These fans are screaming, clamoring for a change in the guard. And I am the man that can bring about that change for them. Tonight, I will cleanse the West Coast Championship from the tarnish of embarrassment with which you’ve tainted it. Tonight, your time as champion comes to an end…
And I will ascend to the top of the mountain and give the fans what they REALLY want… a champion that won’t be a disgrace to the industry.
He turns around to greet the fans at the barricade, many of whom have pens and posters and other objects handed out in his direction. The camera pans over to one such fan, wearing a white t-shirt littered with what looks like signatures.
Fan 1: Hey Donovan! Can I get you to sign my shirt?
Donovan: Certainly! Now, let me find a spot with enough room….
He searches, eventually finding a suitable spot on the fan’s sleeve. He quickly scrawls his signature on the fabric before returning his pen.
Fan 1: Snap that bitch in two, big man!
Despite the fan’s vulgar choice of words, Donovan smiles, nodding his head.
Donovan: I’ll do my best.
Another fan, a young girl barely out of high school, holds up a sign bearing a hand-drawn image of Donovan holding the West Coast Championship belt.
Fan 2: Will you sign my poster?
Donovan: Gladly! Did you draw that?
With a smile, he takes the girl’s pen and signs his autograph on the girl’s poster.
Fan 2: I sure did! I just know you’re going to beat her ass tonight!
Donovan chuckles as he hands her back her pen.
Donovan: You have quite the talent for drawing; I suggest you keep it up. In the meantime, enjoy the show tonight!
Donovan continues to make his way along the barricade, signing as many autographs as time will permit before he has to head inside.
Fade to black.