GreggG
Moderator
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 810
- Points
- 18
(CUT TO: The rear of a stretch HumVee. Slouched in the back is Troy Windham—a sly smirk on his face, one last seen on the cat who ate the canary. Troy is wearing a suit jacket over a CSWA: It’s Our Anniversary T-Shirt, black shades, his mod haircut freshly done, looking like he stepped off the cover of Details.)
Why?
That’s the one question on everybody’s mind. That’s the one question everybody wants me to answer.
Why?
Troy Windham—why did you show up at GWE Revolution? Why did you hop the rail and attack Marcus Johnson? Why did you try to break that man’s neck? Why did you do the unthinkable and turn to the crowd, turn towards the fans, and spray a can of mace into the air?
Well… (Troy cackles, rubbing his hands.) Sit back, because you’re about to find out.
Ten years ago, almost to the date, a man took a shotgun to his mouth, pulled the trigger and said goodbye to the planet. That man’s name was Kurt Cobain, and just a few months before that — he changed the world. Kurt Cobain was in a little known indie rock band, releasing seven-inches and playing in front of 350 fans. The next month, he was on the cover of Rolling Stone, his band omnipresent on MTV, his sound now recognized as the official voice of his generation.
Ten years ago, I was a 21-year-old kid, kicked off the University of Texas wrestling team for insubordination, kicked out of school for having a GPA in negative numbers. I didn’t have anywhere to go… so I went to the one place where I knew I would be welcome the least.
I went to the CSWA. The same CSWA dominated by Hornet. By Mike Randalls. The same CSWA dominated by my older brother, Mark Windham.
I took their advice at first. I stayed silent, adjusted to the pro ring, and waited my turn. But then, then Kurt Cobain pulled the trigger. One shotgun blast later, and the voice of Generation X was dead.
The man who told everyone that the music made before was dead and that his time had come was silenced, forever. No more songs. No more lyrics. He attempted to give this world meaning. He attempted to explain what life was to anyone who turned on the airwaves.
I was in a CSWA locker room when I heard about the shotgun blast. Sitting there, with a roster filled with people wanting to be the best, getting ready to perform in front of an arena waiting to crown a new disposable hero.
That’s when I saw the world for what it was. That’s when I saw this sport for what it was. And that… (Troy cackles again.) is a stepping stone.
I told everyone that I wasn’t concerned about being the best, the greatest. No, that wasn’t what *I* wanted. I didn’t want to spend hours in a gymnasium, trying to use my words and deeds to define those of an entire generation. I wanted to use this sport to get my face on the big screen, to get my ass seated in the back of a limosine, to use my name to cash my check with a whooooole lotta zeroes. I lied. I cheated. I stole.
But a funny thing happened on the way to the Forum. The little punk kid who spat on his brother’s name and this sport’s legacy… well, he became the most popular boy in all of high school. The selfish prima donna, the self-centered jackass who didn’t have a care in the world, became the most well-known name in this sport’s history.
Why?
It’s because EACH AND EVERY SINGLE PERSON wants to live my life. They want to ride in fancy jets and drive cherry red sports cars. And each and every single person WISHES they had the balls to go out and do what it takes to get the big prize. Every single one of them WISHES they had one-tenth of my natural born ability, my talent, my skill.
Each and every single one of you sitting at home wants to be me.
I used my fame as a wrestler and got my ass on TV shows, movie deals, tours with rock bands. And from there, as Hornet and my brother and everyone else stepped by the wayside… only one remained.
That was me. Troy Windham, the snot-nosed punk, became CSWA World Champion. He was alone at the top of the sport. He was alone at the top of the industry. And, when cable companies came calling, wanting to start a 24-hour-a-day channel filled with wrestling, a network filled with lesser leagues, anchored by the CSWA… guess who was there to carry the whole shebang?
THAT WAS ME. I created ALL of this. FW Central? FW Illustrated? The Torch? Every single league on this network is here because *I* allowed it to happen. Without my fame, without my celebrity, there would be no million dollar IPO’s. EPW? NEW? NFW? WFW? GLCW? All of these Johnny-come-lately leagues, filled with a bunch of Johnny-come-lately wrestlers… not one of them would exist if it was not for Troy Windham.
And that… that’s what brings me here. GWE. GXW. Whatever. The league that has been sniping for years that it’s a player, that it’s the big dog in the show, that it’s the one pulling the chains. A few months back, I got an invite to appear at their pay-per-view, Battleground Britain, which they billed as the biggest of all time.
Well, it wasn’t. You know why? (Troy QUICKLY pulls off his shades, his eyes bug-wide.) BECAUSE TROY WINDHAM, THE MAN RESPONSIBLE FOR ALL OF THIS, WASN’T IN THE MAIN EVENT! TROY WINDHAM, THE MAN WHO MADE THIS INDUSTRY WHAT IT IS TODAY, WAS IN A TAG MATCH FOURTH FROM THE CURTAIN JERKER! TROY WINDHAM, THE BIGGEST STAR ALIVE, WASN’T TREATED LIKE THE GOD HE IS! TROY WINDHAM DIDN’T GET HIS OWN LOCKER ROOM! TROY WINDHAM GOT SLAPPED IN THE FACE BY A MAN HALF HIS SIZE!
(Troy stares at the camera. He then puts his sunglasses back on and once again leans back.)
So that’s what brings me here. That’s what brings me to a promotion that has bragged about putting on the biggest show of all time. Because I’m here to show you all, that I’m better than anyone on this roster, I’m bigger than this promotion and I’m bigger than this whole entire industry.
That’s why I bought a ticket, dressed like an old woman and hopped the railing. That’s why I turned to the crowd and sprayed a can of poison gas into the air. Because the only reason any of you are watching this is because of me. And none of you remembered that fact. You come to pathetic leagues and pathetic shows... and none of you pays respect for me, the man who made ALL of this possible.
And now, that brings me to you, Marcus Johnson. The man who remade his appearance at Battleground Britain to a standing ovation and loud cheers. A two-time GXW World Champion. A man who everybody calls The Hero.
Marcus Johnson, I know you for who you really are. You may be a legend around these parts. You may be one this company’s all-time greats. But my people told me that a few years back, you were in Windham Country. You were in the CSWA. I can’t say that I remember you. (Troy cackles again.) I can’t say that anybody does.
But they know you here, Hero. And that’s why you were my sacrifical lamb. That’s why I sprayed your eyes with mace. That’s why I slapped you in the face. That’s why I made you bleed. That’s why I put a chair around your neck, twisted your limp body in the air, and dropped down.
(Windham again takes off his glasses.)
That’s why I tried to break your neck. That’s why I tried to end your career.
Because, Johnson, I’m not here to be a two-time GWE World Champion.
I’m here to show the GWE that I’m the biggest star this sport has ever seen. I’m here to show the GWE that I’m the reason everyone on its roster can make a living, that I’m the reason these fans will pay you money to feed your kid, to pay your mortgage.
I’m here, Johnson, because ten years ago, Kurt Cobain put a shotgun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. He told the world that his poetry and his words were meaningless.
He told the world, Marcus Johnson, that there is no such thing as a Hero.
And today, ten years later, Marcus Johnson… I’m here to show the GWE the same thing.
(Troy takes off his glasses.)
But what does exist is me, Troy Windham. THE ONE MAN ARMY. And my mission is to destroy everyone who has forgotten who I am... and that's the greatest of them all.
(FTB)
Why?
That’s the one question on everybody’s mind. That’s the one question everybody wants me to answer.
Why?
Troy Windham—why did you show up at GWE Revolution? Why did you hop the rail and attack Marcus Johnson? Why did you try to break that man’s neck? Why did you do the unthinkable and turn to the crowd, turn towards the fans, and spray a can of mace into the air?
Well… (Troy cackles, rubbing his hands.) Sit back, because you’re about to find out.
Ten years ago, almost to the date, a man took a shotgun to his mouth, pulled the trigger and said goodbye to the planet. That man’s name was Kurt Cobain, and just a few months before that — he changed the world. Kurt Cobain was in a little known indie rock band, releasing seven-inches and playing in front of 350 fans. The next month, he was on the cover of Rolling Stone, his band omnipresent on MTV, his sound now recognized as the official voice of his generation.
Ten years ago, I was a 21-year-old kid, kicked off the University of Texas wrestling team for insubordination, kicked out of school for having a GPA in negative numbers. I didn’t have anywhere to go… so I went to the one place where I knew I would be welcome the least.
I went to the CSWA. The same CSWA dominated by Hornet. By Mike Randalls. The same CSWA dominated by my older brother, Mark Windham.
I took their advice at first. I stayed silent, adjusted to the pro ring, and waited my turn. But then, then Kurt Cobain pulled the trigger. One shotgun blast later, and the voice of Generation X was dead.
The man who told everyone that the music made before was dead and that his time had come was silenced, forever. No more songs. No more lyrics. He attempted to give this world meaning. He attempted to explain what life was to anyone who turned on the airwaves.
I was in a CSWA locker room when I heard about the shotgun blast. Sitting there, with a roster filled with people wanting to be the best, getting ready to perform in front of an arena waiting to crown a new disposable hero.
That’s when I saw the world for what it was. That’s when I saw this sport for what it was. And that… (Troy cackles again.) is a stepping stone.
I told everyone that I wasn’t concerned about being the best, the greatest. No, that wasn’t what *I* wanted. I didn’t want to spend hours in a gymnasium, trying to use my words and deeds to define those of an entire generation. I wanted to use this sport to get my face on the big screen, to get my ass seated in the back of a limosine, to use my name to cash my check with a whooooole lotta zeroes. I lied. I cheated. I stole.
But a funny thing happened on the way to the Forum. The little punk kid who spat on his brother’s name and this sport’s legacy… well, he became the most popular boy in all of high school. The selfish prima donna, the self-centered jackass who didn’t have a care in the world, became the most well-known name in this sport’s history.
Why?
It’s because EACH AND EVERY SINGLE PERSON wants to live my life. They want to ride in fancy jets and drive cherry red sports cars. And each and every single person WISHES they had the balls to go out and do what it takes to get the big prize. Every single one of them WISHES they had one-tenth of my natural born ability, my talent, my skill.
Each and every single one of you sitting at home wants to be me.
I used my fame as a wrestler and got my ass on TV shows, movie deals, tours with rock bands. And from there, as Hornet and my brother and everyone else stepped by the wayside… only one remained.
That was me. Troy Windham, the snot-nosed punk, became CSWA World Champion. He was alone at the top of the sport. He was alone at the top of the industry. And, when cable companies came calling, wanting to start a 24-hour-a-day channel filled with wrestling, a network filled with lesser leagues, anchored by the CSWA… guess who was there to carry the whole shebang?
THAT WAS ME. I created ALL of this. FW Central? FW Illustrated? The Torch? Every single league on this network is here because *I* allowed it to happen. Without my fame, without my celebrity, there would be no million dollar IPO’s. EPW? NEW? NFW? WFW? GLCW? All of these Johnny-come-lately leagues, filled with a bunch of Johnny-come-lately wrestlers… not one of them would exist if it was not for Troy Windham.
And that… that’s what brings me here. GWE. GXW. Whatever. The league that has been sniping for years that it’s a player, that it’s the big dog in the show, that it’s the one pulling the chains. A few months back, I got an invite to appear at their pay-per-view, Battleground Britain, which they billed as the biggest of all time.
Well, it wasn’t. You know why? (Troy QUICKLY pulls off his shades, his eyes bug-wide.) BECAUSE TROY WINDHAM, THE MAN RESPONSIBLE FOR ALL OF THIS, WASN’T IN THE MAIN EVENT! TROY WINDHAM, THE MAN WHO MADE THIS INDUSTRY WHAT IT IS TODAY, WAS IN A TAG MATCH FOURTH FROM THE CURTAIN JERKER! TROY WINDHAM, THE BIGGEST STAR ALIVE, WASN’T TREATED LIKE THE GOD HE IS! TROY WINDHAM DIDN’T GET HIS OWN LOCKER ROOM! TROY WINDHAM GOT SLAPPED IN THE FACE BY A MAN HALF HIS SIZE!
(Troy stares at the camera. He then puts his sunglasses back on and once again leans back.)
So that’s what brings me here. That’s what brings me to a promotion that has bragged about putting on the biggest show of all time. Because I’m here to show you all, that I’m better than anyone on this roster, I’m bigger than this promotion and I’m bigger than this whole entire industry.
That’s why I bought a ticket, dressed like an old woman and hopped the railing. That’s why I turned to the crowd and sprayed a can of poison gas into the air. Because the only reason any of you are watching this is because of me. And none of you remembered that fact. You come to pathetic leagues and pathetic shows... and none of you pays respect for me, the man who made ALL of this possible.
And now, that brings me to you, Marcus Johnson. The man who remade his appearance at Battleground Britain to a standing ovation and loud cheers. A two-time GXW World Champion. A man who everybody calls The Hero.
Marcus Johnson, I know you for who you really are. You may be a legend around these parts. You may be one this company’s all-time greats. But my people told me that a few years back, you were in Windham Country. You were in the CSWA. I can’t say that I remember you. (Troy cackles again.) I can’t say that anybody does.
But they know you here, Hero. And that’s why you were my sacrifical lamb. That’s why I sprayed your eyes with mace. That’s why I slapped you in the face. That’s why I made you bleed. That’s why I put a chair around your neck, twisted your limp body in the air, and dropped down.
(Windham again takes off his glasses.)
That’s why I tried to break your neck. That’s why I tried to end your career.
Because, Johnson, I’m not here to be a two-time GWE World Champion.
I’m here to show the GWE that I’m the biggest star this sport has ever seen. I’m here to show the GWE that I’m the reason everyone on its roster can make a living, that I’m the reason these fans will pay you money to feed your kid, to pay your mortgage.
I’m here, Johnson, because ten years ago, Kurt Cobain put a shotgun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. He told the world that his poetry and his words were meaningless.
He told the world, Marcus Johnson, that there is no such thing as a Hero.
And today, ten years later, Marcus Johnson… I’m here to show the GWE the same thing.
(Troy takes off his glasses.)
But what does exist is me, Troy Windham. THE ONE MAN ARMY. And my mission is to destroy everyone who has forgotten who I am... and that's the greatest of them all.
(FTB)