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View Full Version : I Shall Strike Down Upon Thee



GreggG
06-13-03, 11:59 AM
(CUT TO: Troy. Playground.)

TROY: A lesson, Mark?

How can you teach me a lesson when you've never learned the most important one of them all?

Know thyself.

Y'see Mark, both of us Windham brothers have had the same thing said about us. All the talent in the world, trapped in a world that they want to escape from.

But, Mark, I'm not running anymore.

Not from my demons.

Not from the fire.

Not from you.

Not from myself.

I knew from the day I was born that I could do whatever I wanted. Mark, surely you read the test scores since you were my caretaker. A ridiculously high I.Q. Physically talented. Extremely good looking.

He can be anything he wants to be.

Imagine knowing that, at the age of 10, you could do more with your mind then the world's business and political leaders? How would you handle that, Mark?

You never had to worry about that, Mark. You made the most of what you had. I'll give you that. You did that to fill the image of American Hero, Sweetwater's Favorite Son. But I'll still grant that you made the most of what you had.

Mark, I dealt with the hand I was given by doing the opposite of what you did.

You set the football records. You set the wrestling team records.

Me? I quit practice the first day after lipping off to the coach.

You had Straight A's. You were National Honor Society.

Me? I barely passed.

You stayed at home to look the part of Boyhood Hero.

I became a Slacker. The life of the party. A lot of girls. A few fast cars. Cursing off teachers. Playing in rock bands. Getting drunk and driving around in the bogs. Getting high. Getting busted when you were in your second year in the CSWA.

Mark, you told me you didn't want me to become a wrestler. You gave me $20,000 to go make a movie.

That day, I knew what scared you the most. You knew that, maybe one day, I could wake up and get it all together. That I would surpass everything you accomplished. That I would make you a footnote in my book of history.

Mark, you were afraid that I would destroy your image. The Fallen Hero would no longer be seen as that... he would just be seen as fallen.

Lucky for you, Mark, I used this sport, this league as a chance to get what I wanted.

Fame.
Fortune.
Girls.
Money.
Popularity.

You and all the other boys in the back have always criticized me for my blatant self-promotion. Well, guess what?

It worked.

And along the way, I destroyed the ultimate myth of them all.

The myth of the wrestler. That he had to be a hard-working hero. That he had to be you. Or Eli Flair.

But along the way of changing this sport, changing this industry, keeping this league financially afloat, creating fwrestling.com... I had to fight wars to protect myself and what I was doing.

The last one, against The ClaimStakers, against Eli Flair, nearly killed me.

A broken neck. Three broken fingers. A wrist that now has four screws in it. Permanent ligament damage.

And guess what happened when I as put in that hospital bed, Mark?

The Coward who ran away from the fire learned his lesson.

The Slacker who used this sport to become a UPN sitcom star learned his lesson.

Mark, you can't teach me a lesson because I already learned the most important one of all.

Know thyself.

And what did I learn about myself?

Troy Is The Greatest.
Troy Is The Greatest.
Troy Is The Greatest.
Troy Is The Greatest.

And what will you learn from that, brother?

That your worst nightmares will always come true.

You never were as good as you thought you were.

You never were as good as me.

(FTB)