EastPrez
Pressure Chief
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 392
- Points
- 0
(FADEIN: To 'Hot Property' EDDIE MAYFIELD standing in a hallway, dressed in his wrestling gear: 'Wet Look' PVC pants with orange and white flames licking up the sides, HHH-wrapped hands and forearms, and wearing another gaming T-shirt, black, with 6 GTA wanted level stars on the front*. MAYFIELD is nursing a big bandage with spotty blood stains on his head. On one shoulder he has the CSWA PRESIDENTIAL Championship belt, and a chip on the other. He looks a little older, but has a cleanly shaven face, looking more like current day '24' Kiefer than Young-Guns Kiefer. You DID know that Mayfields' not black, right?)
MAYFIELD: (Producing a Camel magically from behind his ear and just as quickly, appears in his lips - one swift motion. He produces a flame-covered zippo and sparks it, taking a few test charges before he begins.) "Well, what a difference a few months make, huh? (Snickers, then goes back to frowning) I was enjoying my summer vacation, catching up on some video games I missed out on, working on some secret diabolical schemes, and I even got a tattoo! Look! (MAYFIELD rolls up his right sleeve to reveal a glowing red 'Hot Stuff the little Devil' tattoo, covering his upper arm**) and I even filmed a couple of episodes of JOEY, as Tom 'Rapid-Fire' Ramone, the wacky porn-star-alias-waiter neighbor, who gets kicked out of the complex for trying to film porns in the clubhouse. Good Summer. (Smiles)
So it's time to come back to work and LOOKIT THIS S[BLEEEEEP!] My rubbing, picking and squeezing and hitting it up with clearisil finally removed that blemish on the face of wrestling. This pimple had a first name, it's C-H-A-D. And now, WOW, I'm sitting here looking at this memo, and Stephen Thomas is back from hell, the guy who has more mysterious deaths than a Marvel Comicbook villain. Well, congratulations, Stevie - The Fantastic Four saw you fall off the edge of the Hoover dam, and watched you plummet to your death - but NO! GASP! YOUR'E ALIVE, AND ON MY MONITOR! (Golf claps) That's great drama, man - congratulations. So thinking that we can be friends since my enemy's enemy is my friend, you go hauling off and strip Dan Ryan, the man I was raking over the coals in the makings of bringing that big gold hubcap of a championship belt home to Jacksonville, Florida....
And what did you do, Stevie? WHAT THE F[BLEEEEEEEEP!] DID YOU DO?! (Takes a long ash on the cigarette and smacks it off of the wall behind him) COME ON, MAN! JESUS! It's like I gotta MURDER someone around here to get what I want! (Breathes) but ... no... no, it's cool. I'll work around this. (Smiles) But... I mean, JOEY MELTON? You wanna give someone a hand-out? Give it to Henderson Bramble, Shamon, or the guy who hosts Blind Date on the TV. He'd make a good paper champion, almost a eerie shadow of the Arquette/WCW fiasco. Why doncha do that, man? It's just about as hot. (rolls eyes)
Hey, nothing against you, Melton, but F[BLEEEEEP!] you and your paper belt. If YOU can be the paper champ, then I guess I can be the champ too... (Reaches down off camera, and pulls up an childish, cardboard and aluminum foil 'belt' with velcro on the straps that says 'jWo Paper Champion' on the face, crossed out with two white paintstrokes, replaced with 'CSWA World Champion' scrawled on it with a wedged marker! MAYFIELD slaps it on his other shoulder, and shrugs his shoulders.)
I mean, Steve, I remember when GUNS ran around this place with a bottle of piss on a rope, but that's a little too gross for Ol' Eddie to get down with, so I'll try this. (Slaps the 'belt) This place has a history of making poor title choices, and this one is the new, improved Pimp My Belt 2004 Edition. So what do you say Thomas? Why doncha go get your boy and let's have a little unification match, since this belt and that ass[BLEEEEEP!] you strapped at a press conference have the same amount of cred in my eyes right now? Come on, man. You know you wanna. You know that Eddie Mayfield, no matter what piece of sh[BLEEEP!] you decide to put a bow around is still just a piece of sh[BLEEEEP!] can't deal with Hot Property, so I'll make it easy on you. Just make the call, and I'll put Melton on my back and carry his ass to a respectable championship match... because you know... heh - EYE CAN DO THAT. I hope you didn't expect me to be all happy about this Management change, Thomas, so don't think otherwise unless I TELL you it's ok to think otherwise. I'm nice like that.
So, yeah what else? Oh... right. You see, Your President. lord and ruler had a little quickie match a few moments ago against Shane 'OOOOOOH, I'm Dark now! Buy my new shirt DUHHH-HYUK!' Southern, and Shane got me pretty good on the nugget with a steel chair. (Rubs his head absent-mindedly) yeah, man, you must've been watching tapes of Cojones Mercado - you bopped me good. And what did that prove? It proves a few things to me - it proves that Shane Southern still ain't proving jack to me, but now... HE'S NEW AND IMPROVED AND ON HIS WAY TO TURNING HEEL! (Jumps up and down, clapping, faking excitement) and it proves that the CSWA is STILL worried that I've got it's number, if thats' all you gotta do around here to get some heat ... Stevie, me and you need to talk. Shane, frankly, you're not even in my mind right now, but trust me, I'll get you back for the chair. But don't sweat it - I've been bashed over the head a million times, and I still know my multiplication tables (Smiles) - still sharp as a tack, bro.
So let's recap: Merrit out. Good. Thomas in, Bad. Ryan stripped. Bad. Melton strapped. WORSE. Southern still insignificant. Par the course. Eddie Mayfield better than the rest of these chumps. ALWAYS. Summers over, Main Eventers - I've been to Staples and got my supplies, so it's time to take CSWA back to school, Mayfield-style. OVER."
(FADEOUT as MAYFIELD spits on the ground)
* http://www.gameskins.com/item--Wanted-Tee--gssh027
** http://facs-newmedia.finearts.yorku.ca/nadine/comics/hotstuff/hotst68.jpg
MAYFIELD: (Producing a Camel magically from behind his ear and just as quickly, appears in his lips - one swift motion. He produces a flame-covered zippo and sparks it, taking a few test charges before he begins.) "Well, what a difference a few months make, huh? (Snickers, then goes back to frowning) I was enjoying my summer vacation, catching up on some video games I missed out on, working on some secret diabolical schemes, and I even got a tattoo! Look! (MAYFIELD rolls up his right sleeve to reveal a glowing red 'Hot Stuff the little Devil' tattoo, covering his upper arm**) and I even filmed a couple of episodes of JOEY, as Tom 'Rapid-Fire' Ramone, the wacky porn-star-alias-waiter neighbor, who gets kicked out of the complex for trying to film porns in the clubhouse. Good Summer. (Smiles)
So it's time to come back to work and LOOKIT THIS S[BLEEEEEP!] My rubbing, picking and squeezing and hitting it up with clearisil finally removed that blemish on the face of wrestling. This pimple had a first name, it's C-H-A-D. And now, WOW, I'm sitting here looking at this memo, and Stephen Thomas is back from hell, the guy who has more mysterious deaths than a Marvel Comicbook villain. Well, congratulations, Stevie - The Fantastic Four saw you fall off the edge of the Hoover dam, and watched you plummet to your death - but NO! GASP! YOUR'E ALIVE, AND ON MY MONITOR! (Golf claps) That's great drama, man - congratulations. So thinking that we can be friends since my enemy's enemy is my friend, you go hauling off and strip Dan Ryan, the man I was raking over the coals in the makings of bringing that big gold hubcap of a championship belt home to Jacksonville, Florida....
And what did you do, Stevie? WHAT THE F[BLEEEEEEEEP!] DID YOU DO?! (Takes a long ash on the cigarette and smacks it off of the wall behind him) COME ON, MAN! JESUS! It's like I gotta MURDER someone around here to get what I want! (Breathes) but ... no... no, it's cool. I'll work around this. (Smiles) But... I mean, JOEY MELTON? You wanna give someone a hand-out? Give it to Henderson Bramble, Shamon, or the guy who hosts Blind Date on the TV. He'd make a good paper champion, almost a eerie shadow of the Arquette/WCW fiasco. Why doncha do that, man? It's just about as hot. (rolls eyes)
Hey, nothing against you, Melton, but F[BLEEEEEP!] you and your paper belt. If YOU can be the paper champ, then I guess I can be the champ too... (Reaches down off camera, and pulls up an childish, cardboard and aluminum foil 'belt' with velcro on the straps that says 'jWo Paper Champion' on the face, crossed out with two white paintstrokes, replaced with 'CSWA World Champion' scrawled on it with a wedged marker! MAYFIELD slaps it on his other shoulder, and shrugs his shoulders.)
I mean, Steve, I remember when GUNS ran around this place with a bottle of piss on a rope, but that's a little too gross for Ol' Eddie to get down with, so I'll try this. (Slaps the 'belt) This place has a history of making poor title choices, and this one is the new, improved Pimp My Belt 2004 Edition. So what do you say Thomas? Why doncha go get your boy and let's have a little unification match, since this belt and that ass[BLEEEEEP!] you strapped at a press conference have the same amount of cred in my eyes right now? Come on, man. You know you wanna. You know that Eddie Mayfield, no matter what piece of sh[BLEEEP!] you decide to put a bow around is still just a piece of sh[BLEEEEP!] can't deal with Hot Property, so I'll make it easy on you. Just make the call, and I'll put Melton on my back and carry his ass to a respectable championship match... because you know... heh - EYE CAN DO THAT. I hope you didn't expect me to be all happy about this Management change, Thomas, so don't think otherwise unless I TELL you it's ok to think otherwise. I'm nice like that.
So, yeah what else? Oh... right. You see, Your President. lord and ruler had a little quickie match a few moments ago against Shane 'OOOOOOH, I'm Dark now! Buy my new shirt DUHHH-HYUK!' Southern, and Shane got me pretty good on the nugget with a steel chair. (Rubs his head absent-mindedly) yeah, man, you must've been watching tapes of Cojones Mercado - you bopped me good. And what did that prove? It proves a few things to me - it proves that Shane Southern still ain't proving jack to me, but now... HE'S NEW AND IMPROVED AND ON HIS WAY TO TURNING HEEL! (Jumps up and down, clapping, faking excitement) and it proves that the CSWA is STILL worried that I've got it's number, if thats' all you gotta do around here to get some heat ... Stevie, me and you need to talk. Shane, frankly, you're not even in my mind right now, but trust me, I'll get you back for the chair. But don't sweat it - I've been bashed over the head a million times, and I still know my multiplication tables (Smiles) - still sharp as a tack, bro.
So let's recap: Merrit out. Good. Thomas in, Bad. Ryan stripped. Bad. Melton strapped. WORSE. Southern still insignificant. Par the course. Eddie Mayfield better than the rest of these chumps. ALWAYS. Summers over, Main Eventers - I've been to Staples and got my supplies, so it's time to take CSWA back to school, Mayfield-style. OVER."
(FADEOUT as MAYFIELD spits on the ground)
* http://www.gameskins.com/item--Wanted-Tee--gssh027
** http://facs-newmedia.finearts.yorku.ca/nadine/comics/hotstuff/hotst68.jpg