Re: World Title - Republican v Marx (c)
Backdrop is an overcast Boston day. GOP is standing in a quad somewhere downtown.
GOP:[b/] To you, Communist Marx, a day like today represent a beautiful, gorgeous day. A day where the sun fails to shine through the clouds, where dark clouds dominate the landscape, threatening rain on the good, hard-working people of America. Despite the fact that outside of Berkely, the Commonwealth of Massachusetts has more godless liberal swine populating it than any other haven for illogical left-wing trash, the God-fearing, righteous, conseravative men and women of this town, all seventeen of them, deserve to have the sun shining through, to have beautiful skies and green fields above them and surrounding them. To them, your vision of what's good and pure in this world doesn't set well. To them, your vision of what's right is nothing but a cloudy, depressing day, devoid of any light other than the ones powered by electricity made in your collective plants through slave labor, where the workers go home and share one television and one loaf of bread, seeing as how that's the Communist vision of how everything works.
Well, I'm not about to stand here and let your vision of the perfect day ruin it for everyone else. Back when I was the NEW Era World's Heavyweight Champion, the sun shone, people could frolic in the fields and men came home from working their jobs to televisions of their own and their wives slaving over a hot stove, pregnant and possibly barefoot as well, making sure that the king of the castle got the royal treatment. When I was the Champion, the times were better. The economy was up, terrorists weren't threatening major attacks on our cities and people didn't spit on Rick Santorum or Jeb Bush as much when they walked down the streets.
But then you took over, and this happened. The rainclouds looming overhead, threatening to spit water and lightning down if people didn't fall in line with your radical views, spreading lies and propaganda that I, Gordon Oliver Powell, wanted America, the hard-working coal miner, working for minimum wage, or the even harder working accounting executive, making the American dream come true, to fear me. To be afraid of me. No, the only person who should be afraid of me is you, Communist Marx. You should tremble before the power of the Stars and Stripes because it's you who brings this country and this federation down with every breath you take.
Your vision for the Golden Age of Wrestling is nothing but an immoral farce. You wish to strip us of our ability to watch men like myself fly through the air like stealth bombers or pummel those like you with innovative strikes and blasts. You wish to keep the high flying moves contained by those crazy Nips over in Japan. You'd rather have it so that the only legal moves were chin locks and back rakes. Well, I for one will never stand for such a heathen practice to fall over my wrestling company.
That is why, at BattleBRAWL, I will not only end your title reign, bringing joy and happiness to everyone in this country who counts, all the good little conservative boys and girls who read Bill O'Reilly's children's book and boycott Target, but I will end any hope of you continuing your crusade against decency. You may have brought in names, but I bring down the house upon you. You may have influenced wrestlers, but I influence a nation.
At BattleBRAWL, may the God you don't believe in have mercy on your soul. Because I certainly won't.
GOP V/O: I'm Gordon Oliver Powell, and I approve this message.
Fade to the Republican elephant logo.