View Full Version : But, you don't know *me*

04-04-03, 12:22 PM
"I don’t know if you were trying to be funny or serious in your last promo, big Deac… but, I’ll give you a couple of words of advice, seeing as how you’re just really getting back to form, since being out of the loop for all those years and months. If people can hardly understand just exactly, what in the hell you’re trying to say, when you’re speaking under normal circumstances… there’s a good chance they won’t get your cheap wit, and sarcasm."

"Just a word of advice, take it or… well, you know the rest."

fade- in:

The scene opened up in an unidentified setting, no back drop, dim lighting, a desk – which Sean was sitting on the edge of, as he faced the camera, with a computer on top, the face of his opponent on the monitor, with a “Windows Media” logo underneath. Deacon’s promo was paused, however, and it looked as if it was closer toward the ending. Sean had pretty much saw all that he needed to see.

"I respect who you are, Deacon… but, more so because of who you were. Don’t let that insult you, it’s more of a testament to the dominant figure you were when you reigned supreme here. And, don’t think for one, single, solitary second that I don’t want you to prove all the naysayer’s wrong. …I want you to succeed, big man. I don’t want your past coming back to haunt you. Hell, at Fish Fund I was probably your biggest fan backstage. But, this is what I’m saying to you, Deacon…"

The camera focused in on him, he was dressed in a long sleeved “Psycho Bitch” t-shirt, faded “American Eagle” jeans, and airwalks. His hair was hanging just below his shoulders, and to the right of him… was something… gold. It looked like a championship belt, but he’d never show it, so you’d never know.

He took two steps closer, and with the room he was in, already small, it made for a crammed situation. He was right on the camera, but there was something about seeing him in that position that made you think, it’s exactly where he wanted to be.

"…and, listen up closely, so you don’t twist my words to get your own meaning this time. Your comeback left impression enough. You don’t need to impress anyone else. Your will, determination, and ability to come as far as you did, when everyone counted you out speaks volumes on what type of man you are, all ass kissing aside. But, what you fail to realize is, while you were away, I was studying footage, watching tapes, busting my ass in arenas across the world, in front of audiences of different cultures and backgrounds. Sometimes I was cheered, other times… booed… but, it taught me something."

"I’ll never let a fan dictate how I wrestler. What move I do. How I go about handling my business. Therefore, when all of your fans rise to their feet, and begin chanting your name, pulling you on, it still won’t make a difference because I’ll be focused. No amount of booing will make me look at you any different from how I would under normal circumstances. You’re an opponent… an obstacle. Point. Blank. Period."

"…and, I’m coming for you. In ways a part timer like Hornet could only dream he still could. In ways, a bonified choke artist like Lawrence Stanley could only wish he had the ability to. I’ve studied you, watched you since your return. And, while I chalked what I saw up to ring rust, let’s get it out in the open, and let it be known, that regardless… it was unimpressive. I can’t beat you because you’re not the person you once was. I can beat you because I’m better than you."

"Today, is my day, Deacon."

He glanced down at his wrist watch.

"And, it’s no longer your time… it’s mine. I am prepared and equipped enough with the necessary knowledge to beat a Deacon in his prime… to beat you at your best. When you were that unbeatable champion… beating the likes of Eli Flair, Mike Randalls, Hornet. What makes you think I can’t do it when you’re not at your very best?"

"Faith? …Faith’s not a one way street, Deacon. It doesn’t work for one person, without working for another. God doesn’t pick this person over that person."

"Think about that, when you’re concocting your response."

fade- to- black