The Great Eye
I came to cut you up
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The Legends Week 2 SJH Vs Jonathan Marx
- Thread starter The Great Eye
- Start date
ShawnHartXXX
The Phenom
Back Into A Corner
FADE IN:
Le Chateau du Hart in Orlando, Florida - Midday
Alone in the personal gym at his estate, SHAWN JESSICA HART is pacing anxiously back and forth before the wrestling ring that stands at the room's center.
CLOSE ON: SJH as his pace slows and he begins to grumble to himself angrily. Seconds later, he stops in his tracks and turns toward the camera.
SJH: "I dunno what I have to do to catch a break in this business..."
He chuckles to himself.
SJH: "Just one year ago, I was set like a jet to cement my status as perhaps the greatest thing to hit the sport since ring ropes, cage matches, and Lindsay Troy's ever-expanding, Amazonian BUST. A walking wet dream for the powers that be at Cash4Gold.com with more shiny straps 'round my sinuous, child-bearing hips than ANYONE in the sport has EVER amassed at one time!"
Shawn pauses, quite dramatically, shakes his head discontentedly, then resumes his soliloquy.
SJH: "Fast forward to now, 12 month later, and the Prime Minister of Gettin' Sinister is GOLDLESS, GODLESS, fresh off an embarrassing loss to one ALEX AUSTIN, and not gettin' very sinister at all! The entire sordid affair is absitively, posilutely PREPOSTEROUS! And now, despite the fact that I'm comin' in colder than an Eskimo's P(FCC)SSY, I'm faced with a MUST-WIN match-up with one of my oldest rivals, Peter Princeton in the flesh, 'GENTLEMAN' Jonathan Marx!
Lesser men might crumble at the prospect of having to pull themselves out of such a quagmire, but if I've proven ANYTHING over the course of my cuh-RAZY career, it's that Pro Wrestling's SJH... AIN'T lesser men!"
The crowd goes WILD.... or, rather the canned crowd noise that is suddenly pumped through the room's sound system. The Phenom pauses once more, this time to bask in those faux cheers.
SJH: "This tourney bein' what it is, NEITHER of us can really afford to take a loss at this point. To do so would be completely and utterly catastrophic to our winning causes... and even though some would say he's been off his game lately, I know BETTER than anyone that when an athlete the caliber of Jonathan Marx is faced with that kind of predicament, he's gonna dig down, DEEP AS HE CAN, and pull out all the stops to ensure he gets himself outta that hole and back to the top where he belongs.."
Hart nods his head twice, then slowly begins to crack a grin.
SJH: "Unfortunately for him, he's got to do that against the SICKEST PR(FCC)CK in the sport, Shawn Jessica Hart! And believe you me, Betty, when the two of us are in that ring, fighting for our very relevancy in this tournament, I'm gonna be comin' at that over-privileged ass with all the RAGE and tenacity of a rabid dog! Call it a mockery, call it an OUTRAGE, I just checked my Magic 8-ball and it says it's the TRUTH! And the truth of the matter here is that whether ya like it or ya don't, by the end of this thing, ol' Jonny-boy's gonna kiss my ass and call it candy!"
He playfully taps his derriere.
SJH: "Chalk it up to bad timing, an idiosyncrasy of scheduling, or whatever the hell else you like, Marx. None of it changes the fact that this dog has been backed into a corner by the powers that be... leaving me no choice but to come out with a BITE! My only hope is that when I'm finished with ya, there's enough meat left on your bones for the other JACKHOLES in this tournament.
They're gonna need somethin' to chew on while this VICTOR is enjoying the SPOILS!"
The Prime Minister of Gettin' Sinster grins devilishly.
SJH: "Heh, guess there's nothin' else to say, 'cept... see you in the ring, bub!"
He pounds his right fist into his left palm with a smile.
SJH: "MUFF DADDY... has left... the building!"
As Shawn begins to shadowbox, the screens FADES to BLACK.
FADE IN:
Le Chateau du Hart in Orlando, Florida - Midday
Alone in the personal gym at his estate, SHAWN JESSICA HART is pacing anxiously back and forth before the wrestling ring that stands at the room's center.
CLOSE ON: SJH as his pace slows and he begins to grumble to himself angrily. Seconds later, he stops in his tracks and turns toward the camera.
SJH: "I dunno what I have to do to catch a break in this business..."
He chuckles to himself.
SJH: "Just one year ago, I was set like a jet to cement my status as perhaps the greatest thing to hit the sport since ring ropes, cage matches, and Lindsay Troy's ever-expanding, Amazonian BUST. A walking wet dream for the powers that be at Cash4Gold.com with more shiny straps 'round my sinuous, child-bearing hips than ANYONE in the sport has EVER amassed at one time!"
Shawn pauses, quite dramatically, shakes his head discontentedly, then resumes his soliloquy.
SJH: "Fast forward to now, 12 month later, and the Prime Minister of Gettin' Sinister is GOLDLESS, GODLESS, fresh off an embarrassing loss to one ALEX AUSTIN, and not gettin' very sinister at all! The entire sordid affair is absitively, posilutely PREPOSTEROUS! And now, despite the fact that I'm comin' in colder than an Eskimo's P(FCC)SSY, I'm faced with a MUST-WIN match-up with one of my oldest rivals, Peter Princeton in the flesh, 'GENTLEMAN' Jonathan Marx!
Lesser men might crumble at the prospect of having to pull themselves out of such a quagmire, but if I've proven ANYTHING over the course of my cuh-RAZY career, it's that Pro Wrestling's SJH... AIN'T lesser men!"
The crowd goes WILD.... or, rather the canned crowd noise that is suddenly pumped through the room's sound system. The Phenom pauses once more, this time to bask in those faux cheers.
SJH: "This tourney bein' what it is, NEITHER of us can really afford to take a loss at this point. To do so would be completely and utterly catastrophic to our winning causes... and even though some would say he's been off his game lately, I know BETTER than anyone that when an athlete the caliber of Jonathan Marx is faced with that kind of predicament, he's gonna dig down, DEEP AS HE CAN, and pull out all the stops to ensure he gets himself outta that hole and back to the top where he belongs.."
Hart nods his head twice, then slowly begins to crack a grin.
SJH: "Unfortunately for him, he's got to do that against the SICKEST PR(FCC)CK in the sport, Shawn Jessica Hart! And believe you me, Betty, when the two of us are in that ring, fighting for our very relevancy in this tournament, I'm gonna be comin' at that over-privileged ass with all the RAGE and tenacity of a rabid dog! Call it a mockery, call it an OUTRAGE, I just checked my Magic 8-ball and it says it's the TRUTH! And the truth of the matter here is that whether ya like it or ya don't, by the end of this thing, ol' Jonny-boy's gonna kiss my ass and call it candy!"
He playfully taps his derriere.
SJH: "Chalk it up to bad timing, an idiosyncrasy of scheduling, or whatever the hell else you like, Marx. None of it changes the fact that this dog has been backed into a corner by the powers that be... leaving me no choice but to come out with a BITE! My only hope is that when I'm finished with ya, there's enough meat left on your bones for the other JACKHOLES in this tournament.
They're gonna need somethin' to chew on while this VICTOR is enjoying the SPOILS!"
The Prime Minister of Gettin' Sinster grins devilishly.
SJH: "Heh, guess there's nothin' else to say, 'cept... see you in the ring, bub!"
He pounds his right fist into his left palm with a smile.
SJH: "MUFF DADDY... has left... the building!"
As Shawn begins to shadowbox, the screens FADES to BLACK.