Tournament Finals RP Here
- Thread starter DBrunkGXW
- Start date
QueenOfTheRing
AKA Mom
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 2,625
- Points
- 36
Inevitability...
Fade-in: The London skyline's so beautiful at night. Lindsay Troy stands, admiring the view. She smiles, and turns to the camera.
You know the first rule of combat? Shoot them before they shoot you.
On a night like this, I crave one thing, and one thing only.
The sweet taste of victory.
Pause.
I'm sorry to have disappointed my new-found GXW fans, but it wasn't over Christian Sands' dead body that I advanced into the fourth round of the World Title tournament. Rather, I vaulted over his youthful and vibrant body, and then sailed over Billy Starr, who was quite the worthy adversary, to land here...smack dab in the finals.
Now, I have the pleasure of competing against Jason Mewes' personal diety, Boogie Smallz.
She golf claps.
Mister Smallz, I applaud you for your efforts in securing, and holding onto, a GXW Title. And I do commend you on defeating my protégé Dan Ryan.
However, that is where the accolades come to a screeching halt.
Troy casts a hardened gaze into the camera.
From what I know, you and Miller have something of an issue to settle, and that's all fine and well. I can understand the animosity on both sides of the playing field in that regard. But I've got a goal in mind, and that goal is getting to that big showdown with the champ.
I'm sorry if that impedes on whatever plans you might have.
I've made it this far, and there's nowhere to go but forward. And I'll be damned if I take the fall to a human smokestack.
Calm are the waters before the storm, Mister Smallz. The smoke on the water soothes you, I've seen it.
I, on the other hand, don't inhale. I choose to stay as far away from that stuff as humanly possible, which is why I plan on disposing of you as fast as I can so my clothes do not become imbedded with your stench.
As much as that belt that adorns your waist says about your stature in this company, EYE see you as something else.
You act more like a cockroach than a proper athlete. Left to your own devices you would cover the world in your filth.
I can't stand your kind.
You don't have the self-respect to be considered on the same level as a clean athlete, such as myself, you walking, blunt-smoking, pothead. Whatever brain cells you have left aren't nearly enough to comprehend what you really are.
Remember, a serpent's venom effects long after it's bite.
There's nothing in this world to believe in, except for what's in front of you.
I'll give you something to believe in, Mister Smallz. I'm either an angel from the underworld, or a devil from paradise.
It's all in how you look at it.
Grin, and Fade...
Fade-in: The London skyline's so beautiful at night. Lindsay Troy stands, admiring the view. She smiles, and turns to the camera.
You know the first rule of combat? Shoot them before they shoot you.
On a night like this, I crave one thing, and one thing only.
The sweet taste of victory.
Pause.
I'm sorry to have disappointed my new-found GXW fans, but it wasn't over Christian Sands' dead body that I advanced into the fourth round of the World Title tournament. Rather, I vaulted over his youthful and vibrant body, and then sailed over Billy Starr, who was quite the worthy adversary, to land here...smack dab in the finals.
Now, I have the pleasure of competing against Jason Mewes' personal diety, Boogie Smallz.
She golf claps.
Mister Smallz, I applaud you for your efforts in securing, and holding onto, a GXW Title. And I do commend you on defeating my protégé Dan Ryan.
However, that is where the accolades come to a screeching halt.
Troy casts a hardened gaze into the camera.
From what I know, you and Miller have something of an issue to settle, and that's all fine and well. I can understand the animosity on both sides of the playing field in that regard. But I've got a goal in mind, and that goal is getting to that big showdown with the champ.
I'm sorry if that impedes on whatever plans you might have.
I've made it this far, and there's nowhere to go but forward. And I'll be damned if I take the fall to a human smokestack.
Calm are the waters before the storm, Mister Smallz. The smoke on the water soothes you, I've seen it.
I, on the other hand, don't inhale. I choose to stay as far away from that stuff as humanly possible, which is why I plan on disposing of you as fast as I can so my clothes do not become imbedded with your stench.
As much as that belt that adorns your waist says about your stature in this company, EYE see you as something else.
You act more like a cockroach than a proper athlete. Left to your own devices you would cover the world in your filth.
I can't stand your kind.
You don't have the self-respect to be considered on the same level as a clean athlete, such as myself, you walking, blunt-smoking, pothead. Whatever brain cells you have left aren't nearly enough to comprehend what you really are.
Remember, a serpent's venom effects long after it's bite.
There's nothing in this world to believe in, except for what's in front of you.
I'll give you something to believe in, Mister Smallz. I'm either an angel from the underworld, or a devil from paradise.
It's all in how you look at it.
Grin, and Fade...
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Seatriscuit
(FADEIN to Boogie Smallz putting a blunt out in an ashtray and watching the latest Lindsay Troy promo. The tape ends and Boogie addresses the camera.)
BOOGIE SMALLZ: I fought hard to get herre. I went up against former World champions, had tha odds stacked against me, and had erryone believin’ that I wasn’t gonna make it. But despite tha odds…I made it. I made it this far and I am just one step closer to what I want more than anything…a match with John Miller at Battleground. But not just any match…a Unified World title match.
Now Miller, you know more than anybody how bad I want this. I will do anythang and errythang to make it possible, short of jumpin’ through hoops. But now that I think about it, if that would get me a title shot…then I would be a hoop-jumpin’ ma’phucka’. Because I keep gettin’ tha impression that maybe you’re a lil’ scurred of me. You have done a helluva job ignorin’ me, but tha time for all that is about to end. Because once I win tha finals of this tournament, you can’t ignore me anymore.
Normally you would think that a person would be ecstatic for defeatin’ Dan Ryan. They’d be chipper and all zippiddy-doo-dah, but I don’t have that luxury. Maybe it will sink in after I win this tournament, but until then I can’t celebrate and be all proud for myself. I need to stick to tha script and not get sidetracked.
In order for me to get that title match, I gotta win tha finals and my opposition has been goin’ through men quicker than tha Houston 500 gangbang. She beat some top-notch competition to get to this point and I gotta tell ya’, to not see her as a threat would be a mistake on my part. But damn, it’s gonna be hard.
Not because I can’t handle it, because therre is no doubt that I can handle my biz. But because I ain’t sure if I wanna put her in a headlock…or a liplock. I’m not sure if I won’t be tempted to grab one of her breastuses when applyin’ an abdominal stretch. I’m not sure if I should slap her face…or slap her ass. But sayin’ this makes me realize how you use your looks and that fine-ass body of yours to distract peeps. And it works. So before this match, I might have to go bust a couple nutz on sum hoodratz so I won’t be thinkin’ with my dick. A chick rubbin’ all over ya’ will do that sumtimes.
Nah, I gotta go into this match with tha mentality that you are a dood and you are tha only thing in my way…keepin’ me away from what I want more than anything…tha Unified World title. I’m glad you patted me on tha back and commended on my recent accomplishments, but none of that ish matters right now. I’m not one to rest on my past success and just coast off of that. I am ALWAYS makin’ things happen, steady tryin’ to better myself., because I know some snobby futhamucka’ is gonna come tiptoein’ along and try to say I don’t deserve ish.
Just like you did, Lindsay, with that “I can’t stand your kind” speech. Excuse me for not growin’ up with all tha advantages that you had. I didn’t have it like you. You see me as a cockroach? I’m so hurt. Believe me, toots, I’ve been called a lot worse than that in my life. You don’t want to consider me a proper athlete, suit yourself. It’s no skin of my back. That’s ish YOU need to deal with. I am perfectly content livin’ how I live and doin’ tha things that I do. If it bothers you that much, then don’t pay no attention to it. Ignore me, like John Miller.
All that crap about snake venom and underworld angels, makes me wonder what kind of drugs YOU are on. And was it just me or did you quote some old song off of tha Freedom Rock CD? Smoke on tha water? Come on now, you gotta come with some ish better than that. You want to insult me? Come with sumthin’ better than that. Regardless of what you think of me or me as a champion, it’s not about what you think. Tha world don’t revolve around Lindsay Troy. Your opinion isn’t law and if you feel this strongly about how scummy I am, then please…by all means do sumthin’ about it.
It’s petty, but if that’s tha route you want to take…so be it. You want to live your life like that? It’s yours to ruin, but I am takin’ this match totally different than you. You are tryin’ to make it personal, but it’s just business to me. That’s probably your strategy, but I ain’t sinkin’ down to your level. You ain’t gonna shake me…I’m stickin’ to tha script. You heard all about me, but soon you are gonna find out first hand what tha B To Tha Z is all about. It’s not hype…it’s some real ish. Doubt it if you want to…but ya best BELIEVE ‘DAT!
(FADE TO BLACK)
(FADEIN to Boogie Smallz putting a blunt out in an ashtray and watching the latest Lindsay Troy promo. The tape ends and Boogie addresses the camera.)
BOOGIE SMALLZ: I fought hard to get herre. I went up against former World champions, had tha odds stacked against me, and had erryone believin’ that I wasn’t gonna make it. But despite tha odds…I made it. I made it this far and I am just one step closer to what I want more than anything…a match with John Miller at Battleground. But not just any match…a Unified World title match.
Now Miller, you know more than anybody how bad I want this. I will do anythang and errythang to make it possible, short of jumpin’ through hoops. But now that I think about it, if that would get me a title shot…then I would be a hoop-jumpin’ ma’phucka’. Because I keep gettin’ tha impression that maybe you’re a lil’ scurred of me. You have done a helluva job ignorin’ me, but tha time for all that is about to end. Because once I win tha finals of this tournament, you can’t ignore me anymore.
Normally you would think that a person would be ecstatic for defeatin’ Dan Ryan. They’d be chipper and all zippiddy-doo-dah, but I don’t have that luxury. Maybe it will sink in after I win this tournament, but until then I can’t celebrate and be all proud for myself. I need to stick to tha script and not get sidetracked.
In order for me to get that title match, I gotta win tha finals and my opposition has been goin’ through men quicker than tha Houston 500 gangbang. She beat some top-notch competition to get to this point and I gotta tell ya’, to not see her as a threat would be a mistake on my part. But damn, it’s gonna be hard.
Not because I can’t handle it, because therre is no doubt that I can handle my biz. But because I ain’t sure if I wanna put her in a headlock…or a liplock. I’m not sure if I won’t be tempted to grab one of her breastuses when applyin’ an abdominal stretch. I’m not sure if I should slap her face…or slap her ass. But sayin’ this makes me realize how you use your looks and that fine-ass body of yours to distract peeps. And it works. So before this match, I might have to go bust a couple nutz on sum hoodratz so I won’t be thinkin’ with my dick. A chick rubbin’ all over ya’ will do that sumtimes.
Nah, I gotta go into this match with tha mentality that you are a dood and you are tha only thing in my way…keepin’ me away from what I want more than anything…tha Unified World title. I’m glad you patted me on tha back and commended on my recent accomplishments, but none of that ish matters right now. I’m not one to rest on my past success and just coast off of that. I am ALWAYS makin’ things happen, steady tryin’ to better myself., because I know some snobby futhamucka’ is gonna come tiptoein’ along and try to say I don’t deserve ish.
Just like you did, Lindsay, with that “I can’t stand your kind” speech. Excuse me for not growin’ up with all tha advantages that you had. I didn’t have it like you. You see me as a cockroach? I’m so hurt. Believe me, toots, I’ve been called a lot worse than that in my life. You don’t want to consider me a proper athlete, suit yourself. It’s no skin of my back. That’s ish YOU need to deal with. I am perfectly content livin’ how I live and doin’ tha things that I do. If it bothers you that much, then don’t pay no attention to it. Ignore me, like John Miller.
All that crap about snake venom and underworld angels, makes me wonder what kind of drugs YOU are on. And was it just me or did you quote some old song off of tha Freedom Rock CD? Smoke on tha water? Come on now, you gotta come with some ish better than that. You want to insult me? Come with sumthin’ better than that. Regardless of what you think of me or me as a champion, it’s not about what you think. Tha world don’t revolve around Lindsay Troy. Your opinion isn’t law and if you feel this strongly about how scummy I am, then please…by all means do sumthin’ about it.
It’s petty, but if that’s tha route you want to take…so be it. You want to live your life like that? It’s yours to ruin, but I am takin’ this match totally different than you. You are tryin’ to make it personal, but it’s just business to me. That’s probably your strategy, but I ain’t sinkin’ down to your level. You ain’t gonna shake me…I’m stickin’ to tha script. You heard all about me, but soon you are gonna find out first hand what tha B To Tha Z is all about. It’s not hype…it’s some real ish. Doubt it if you want to…but ya best BELIEVE ‘DAT!
(FADE TO BLACK)
Last edited:
QueenOfTheRing
AKA Mom
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 2,625
- Points
- 36
I'll show ya a finger, Trebek...
Fade-in: Lindsay Troy, stretched out on a bench in a gym. It's just her and the camera.
Alright, Boogie. I'm down, I've got the 411, but you are not goin out and coasting right by me to land yourself a date with Miller.
I know I got the goods in the looks and talent department, but let me draw the line a little clearer for you:
I'm willing to conceed and say that you're most likely going to slap me around a bit in the ring. I'm not above the plane of reality.
But don't think for once second that I'm going to allow you to participate in some deviant sexual harrassment practices while we're in the confines of the ring, or in the confines of the arena.
Mister Smallz, you've gotta get yours, just like I've gotta get mine, but the only handout I've ever accepted was my share of my mother's and father's will after they passed away. Just because the nature of my childhood has been one of privilege for the most part, don't succumb to the obvious tendencies of thought and assume that I've been fed with a silver spoon. I can assure you, Boogie...the fine dinnerware was only used for special occassions, and I've worked damn hard in my lifetime for everything that I've ever wanted or needed.
I want this title shot against Miller, and so far my hard work has paid off. I may have the looks that wow the crowd for miles around, but once that bell sounds I'm all business, G-Unit. I certainly can't help it if people get distracted, but the only thing I use to my advantage is the skills that have been drilled into my brain over my numerous years of training. The way I look is just an added bonus.
There's no doubt in my mind that you can handle "your biz", but can you handle the outsider that's "supposedly" got your locker room's boxers in a bunch? I don't know if that's true or not, since I took that statement of Sands' with a grain of salt. You could probably elaborate better on that. But, I know you've faced quite the plethora of talent thus far in this tournament and in GXW as a whole, but as the Bull God has said: "you never met a mothaf*cka quite like me."
Was that on the Freedom Rock CD? I don't know. That's not in my collection. But don't be doggin' on Deep Purple man, they have a lot in common with you, and I mean that in the nicest way possible.
You may not be as vile as I thought you were, but Boogie...I don't sweat you. I don't need to "deal" with whatever your past conjours up and manifests in that ring, but what I do need to deal with is turning up the heat for one more match, beating you, and giving Miller a Welcome Wagon surprise.
But first thing's first. I gotta beat ya, Boogie. I gotta get my payoff.
I am the only thing keeping you from headlining Battlground Britain under the marquee "Miller vs. Smallz II", you're right about that; but this is one roadblock that you're not going to be able to run your Escalade over. I'm a walkin, talkin spitfire from the 'burbs of Tampa, and boy you best be preparing yourself for what you're gonna see comin atcha from bell to bell and the time inbetween.
My opinion may not be law in this land just yet, but my performances thus far have earned me the right to keep climbing up the ladder. I do think you're scummy, Boogie..you got that right. Whatever lifestyle you want to lead off camera is "your biz", it isn't mine. You want to get your rocks off with some five-and-dimers and smoke weed every day, then that's your fancy. But when you bring your "junk" to work and you're blazin on camera, and management does jack about it, that says something to me. That says that management cares more about banning a legal finisher than prohibiting an employee from consuming an illegal drug, which is illegal in both the United States and England, that he brings to the work environment.
That's just mindnumbingly stupid and irresponsible, and it doesn't sit well with me.
So, I will do something about it. You can bank on that. Beating you is the first step, and then maybe GXW Officials will open their blood-shot eyes and see the error of their ways.
Don't sit there and waggle your finger at me and say that I am ruining my life. My life span's probably about 10 years longer than yours based on drug-free habits alone. I may be petty, and I may be a prima donna, but I'm not tip-toeing on the fine line of the laws of the United States of America. You...do realize that you're still under the jurisdiction of the United States of America as well as the jurisdiction of Great Britain while you are traveling overseas, right?
I'm sure that legalese falls on deaf ears, but the more you know Boogie, the better off you'll be.
I've already shaken up the harmonious balance of the GXW locker room by beating the home-grown boys and a CSWA veteran, and I've done that without a hulking frame and a hanging muscle between my legs. It's not about what's down there, it's about what's up here (she points to her head) and what's right here (she points to hear heart), and I've got more than enough of both to help me survive in this business. If I didn't have enough, I wouldn't have lasted a year, let alone eight.
But, my time in this business is neither here nor there. Be prepared, Boogie. I'm not looking to make history. I'm looking to rewrite it. Beware the author who holds a pen to paper, for once they have an idea in their head, there's no turning back.
Fade...
Fade-in: Lindsay Troy, stretched out on a bench in a gym. It's just her and the camera.
Alright, Boogie. I'm down, I've got the 411, but you are not goin out and coasting right by me to land yourself a date with Miller.
I know I got the goods in the looks and talent department, but let me draw the line a little clearer for you:
I'm willing to conceed and say that you're most likely going to slap me around a bit in the ring. I'm not above the plane of reality.
But don't think for once second that I'm going to allow you to participate in some deviant sexual harrassment practices while we're in the confines of the ring, or in the confines of the arena.
Mister Smallz, you've gotta get yours, just like I've gotta get mine, but the only handout I've ever accepted was my share of my mother's and father's will after they passed away. Just because the nature of my childhood has been one of privilege for the most part, don't succumb to the obvious tendencies of thought and assume that I've been fed with a silver spoon. I can assure you, Boogie...the fine dinnerware was only used for special occassions, and I've worked damn hard in my lifetime for everything that I've ever wanted or needed.
I want this title shot against Miller, and so far my hard work has paid off. I may have the looks that wow the crowd for miles around, but once that bell sounds I'm all business, G-Unit. I certainly can't help it if people get distracted, but the only thing I use to my advantage is the skills that have been drilled into my brain over my numerous years of training. The way I look is just an added bonus.
There's no doubt in my mind that you can handle "your biz", but can you handle the outsider that's "supposedly" got your locker room's boxers in a bunch? I don't know if that's true or not, since I took that statement of Sands' with a grain of salt. You could probably elaborate better on that. But, I know you've faced quite the plethora of talent thus far in this tournament and in GXW as a whole, but as the Bull God has said: "you never met a mothaf*cka quite like me."
Was that on the Freedom Rock CD? I don't know. That's not in my collection. But don't be doggin' on Deep Purple man, they have a lot in common with you, and I mean that in the nicest way possible.
You may not be as vile as I thought you were, but Boogie...I don't sweat you. I don't need to "deal" with whatever your past conjours up and manifests in that ring, but what I do need to deal with is turning up the heat for one more match, beating you, and giving Miller a Welcome Wagon surprise.
But first thing's first. I gotta beat ya, Boogie. I gotta get my payoff.
I am the only thing keeping you from headlining Battlground Britain under the marquee "Miller vs. Smallz II", you're right about that; but this is one roadblock that you're not going to be able to run your Escalade over. I'm a walkin, talkin spitfire from the 'burbs of Tampa, and boy you best be preparing yourself for what you're gonna see comin atcha from bell to bell and the time inbetween.
My opinion may not be law in this land just yet, but my performances thus far have earned me the right to keep climbing up the ladder. I do think you're scummy, Boogie..you got that right. Whatever lifestyle you want to lead off camera is "your biz", it isn't mine. You want to get your rocks off with some five-and-dimers and smoke weed every day, then that's your fancy. But when you bring your "junk" to work and you're blazin on camera, and management does jack about it, that says something to me. That says that management cares more about banning a legal finisher than prohibiting an employee from consuming an illegal drug, which is illegal in both the United States and England, that he brings to the work environment.
That's just mindnumbingly stupid and irresponsible, and it doesn't sit well with me.
So, I will do something about it. You can bank on that. Beating you is the first step, and then maybe GXW Officials will open their blood-shot eyes and see the error of their ways.
Don't sit there and waggle your finger at me and say that I am ruining my life. My life span's probably about 10 years longer than yours based on drug-free habits alone. I may be petty, and I may be a prima donna, but I'm not tip-toeing on the fine line of the laws of the United States of America. You...do realize that you're still under the jurisdiction of the United States of America as well as the jurisdiction of Great Britain while you are traveling overseas, right?
I'm sure that legalese falls on deaf ears, but the more you know Boogie, the better off you'll be.
I've already shaken up the harmonious balance of the GXW locker room by beating the home-grown boys and a CSWA veteran, and I've done that without a hulking frame and a hanging muscle between my legs. It's not about what's down there, it's about what's up here (she points to her head) and what's right here (she points to hear heart), and I've got more than enough of both to help me survive in this business. If I didn't have enough, I wouldn't have lasted a year, let alone eight.
But, my time in this business is neither here nor there. Be prepared, Boogie. I'm not looking to make history. I'm looking to rewrite it. Beware the author who holds a pen to paper, for once they have an idea in their head, there's no turning back.
Fade...
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That wasn't my finger I was waggin'...
(FADEIN to Boogie Smallz perched on a stool watching the latest Lindsay Troy promo. He puffs a blunt as he watches, shaking his head at many of her comments. The tape ends, Boogie takes several tokes off of his blunt, and then addresses the camera.)
BOOGIE SMALLZ: Lindsay, I never pegged you as tha moral watchdog type. When did you become lil’ Miss Goodie-two-shoes? Seems like just a week or so ago I saw you throwin’ ninja stars at some poor sap in NFW and now all of tha sudden you want to fight for what’s right in tha world of wrestlin’? Give me a break. You need to start with yourself first, before you try and bring that ish up around me.
It’s not like I am runnin’ a huge drug ring out of tha locker room. I’m not leavin’ syringes out sittin’ on tha announce table. Smackin’ fools around ‘cuz they’rre short with my money. I ain’t pushin’ keys or doin’ dirt with tha Columbians. You act like I am America’s Most Wanted and ish. Like tha DEA should have surveillance on me 24/7 or sumthin’. Last I checked, my name wasn’t Pablo Escobar. I don’t have my own cartel or crop of cocaine. It really ain’t that kcufin’ serious.
Tha way you’re actin’, makes me think you’re wearin’ a wire or sumthin’. Like you turned informant…went snitch on me or sumthin’. (Puffs his blunt.) Why is this such a big issue to you? You take erry lil’ thang personal. I told ya’ girl, this is just business. You should be more concerned with your anger management than worryin’ about my addiction. To me, this blunt I’m smokin’ is no different than a cigarette. I’ve been smokin’ so damn long…tha stuff hardly even fazes now. But don’t get me started on people in this biz with drug addictions, because tha numbers will surprise ya, if you don’t already know. Some people you are prolly very close to in this industry have at one time or another, if not now, have taken illegal substances. Shocking, huh? Hey, that’s life. People are people. So get off your high horse and stop actin’ like you are tha center of tha universe.
Prime example…you said and I quote, “My opinion may not be law in this land just yet.” Just yet? Just yet? Who tha hell do you think you are? Hillary Clinton?
(Boogie stands up and rolls his neck. He puffs his blunt and stares into the camera.)
Did you just happen to stumble onto tha Parent Television Council website? Listenin’ to that garbage that lil’ trick Brent Bozell has been spittin’? You ain’t lil’ Miss Perfect, don’t act all sweet and innocent with me with that lil’ Orphan Annie sob story. You talk about your mind and your heart and therre is no doubt you got a head on your shoulders. But that heart you claim to have…is nothin’ but black. You got some built up issues that you need to address somewhere outside of tha ring. For you to make such a hoopla over a brotha hittin’ sum chronic is a sure sign for help, if ya ask me.
Errytime I flip tha channel, I see you on some other wrestlin’ show. Maybe you’re sufferin’ burnout. Got too much on your plate and just can’t handle tha pressure. I can see you slowly startin’ to unravel. Like erry person that crosses your path, you either become their manager or start a blood feud with them. (Puffs his blunt.) You’re too damn uptight. You need to relax. No, better yet…I think you need to get laid.
(Boogie sits back down on his stool and takes a long drag off of his blunt. He lets the smoke out slowly and smiles.)
When I said you were ruinin’ your life, it was over ish like this. Do you need a hug or sumthin’? Damn, I just met ya’…I’d hate to see how ya act around people that have known you longer.
Next topic…why tha hell would you even listen or believe ANYTHANG that comes out of Christian Sands penis smellin’ mouth? Tha only time my boxers are up in a bunch is when I am sittin’ on tha throne…takin’ a (BLEEP). It takes a lot for you to get me rattled. But no matter how hard you try, I’m still focused. I still want that match with Miller and since I’m this close to achievin’ that, ya best believe I’ll do whatever it takes to get it. If it means stompin’ you into a bloody mess…then girl, please forgive me. But I guess it’s nothin’ that some cosmetic surgery couldn’t cure. No man and especially no female is gonna stop me from livin’ out my dream…and that’s to stand tall on top of GXW with tha Unified World title around my waist.
I said it before and I’ll say it again. Tha only time I am on my back is bench-pressin’ or bonin’ beeyatchez. So unless you plan on bringin’ some weights or puttin’ on a French maid outfit, you can forget about ever beatin’ me. You want to rewrite history and all that, cool. Do tha damn thang, girl. But if that includes a chapter entitled tha Last Stand of Boogie Smallz, then I might have a lil’ problem with that.
(Puffs his blunt and looks back into the camera.)
Tha lil’ line you said at tha end of your promo was really cute. But what happens when that author gets an idea in their head…and tha pen they was holdin’ is out of ink? No turnin’ back? Not even then? Guess you’re just ish out of luck, huh? Better hope that doesn’t happen to you. Man, wouldn’t that suck. (Puffs his blunt and ponders a thought.) Wouldn’t an author be better off with one of those lil’ handheld recorders, instead of a pen and paper? (Puffs his blunt.) Maybe I’m just too high and don’t really get your point.
Whatever it was, I am sure it was good. But what were you thinkin’ tryin’ to call me G-Unit? As in 50 Cent? I look around, tha only thang I see worth 50 cent is your penny prostitute ass. Actually, you’d prolly owe me some change if I gave you that much. But I don’t want to be like that, Lindsay. Juxt watch your choice of words and I’ll do my best to return tha courtesy. Other than that, I ain’t got ish else to say. Fade me out.
(FADE TO BLACK)
(FADEIN to Boogie Smallz perched on a stool watching the latest Lindsay Troy promo. He puffs a blunt as he watches, shaking his head at many of her comments. The tape ends, Boogie takes several tokes off of his blunt, and then addresses the camera.)
BOOGIE SMALLZ: Lindsay, I never pegged you as tha moral watchdog type. When did you become lil’ Miss Goodie-two-shoes? Seems like just a week or so ago I saw you throwin’ ninja stars at some poor sap in NFW and now all of tha sudden you want to fight for what’s right in tha world of wrestlin’? Give me a break. You need to start with yourself first, before you try and bring that ish up around me.
It’s not like I am runnin’ a huge drug ring out of tha locker room. I’m not leavin’ syringes out sittin’ on tha announce table. Smackin’ fools around ‘cuz they’rre short with my money. I ain’t pushin’ keys or doin’ dirt with tha Columbians. You act like I am America’s Most Wanted and ish. Like tha DEA should have surveillance on me 24/7 or sumthin’. Last I checked, my name wasn’t Pablo Escobar. I don’t have my own cartel or crop of cocaine. It really ain’t that kcufin’ serious.
Tha way you’re actin’, makes me think you’re wearin’ a wire or sumthin’. Like you turned informant…went snitch on me or sumthin’. (Puffs his blunt.) Why is this such a big issue to you? You take erry lil’ thang personal. I told ya’ girl, this is just business. You should be more concerned with your anger management than worryin’ about my addiction. To me, this blunt I’m smokin’ is no different than a cigarette. I’ve been smokin’ so damn long…tha stuff hardly even fazes now. But don’t get me started on people in this biz with drug addictions, because tha numbers will surprise ya, if you don’t already know. Some people you are prolly very close to in this industry have at one time or another, if not now, have taken illegal substances. Shocking, huh? Hey, that’s life. People are people. So get off your high horse and stop actin’ like you are tha center of tha universe.
Prime example…you said and I quote, “My opinion may not be law in this land just yet.” Just yet? Just yet? Who tha hell do you think you are? Hillary Clinton?
(Boogie stands up and rolls his neck. He puffs his blunt and stares into the camera.)
Did you just happen to stumble onto tha Parent Television Council website? Listenin’ to that garbage that lil’ trick Brent Bozell has been spittin’? You ain’t lil’ Miss Perfect, don’t act all sweet and innocent with me with that lil’ Orphan Annie sob story. You talk about your mind and your heart and therre is no doubt you got a head on your shoulders. But that heart you claim to have…is nothin’ but black. You got some built up issues that you need to address somewhere outside of tha ring. For you to make such a hoopla over a brotha hittin’ sum chronic is a sure sign for help, if ya ask me.
Errytime I flip tha channel, I see you on some other wrestlin’ show. Maybe you’re sufferin’ burnout. Got too much on your plate and just can’t handle tha pressure. I can see you slowly startin’ to unravel. Like erry person that crosses your path, you either become their manager or start a blood feud with them. (Puffs his blunt.) You’re too damn uptight. You need to relax. No, better yet…I think you need to get laid.
(Boogie sits back down on his stool and takes a long drag off of his blunt. He lets the smoke out slowly and smiles.)
When I said you were ruinin’ your life, it was over ish like this. Do you need a hug or sumthin’? Damn, I just met ya’…I’d hate to see how ya act around people that have known you longer.
Next topic…why tha hell would you even listen or believe ANYTHANG that comes out of Christian Sands penis smellin’ mouth? Tha only time my boxers are up in a bunch is when I am sittin’ on tha throne…takin’ a (BLEEP). It takes a lot for you to get me rattled. But no matter how hard you try, I’m still focused. I still want that match with Miller and since I’m this close to achievin’ that, ya best believe I’ll do whatever it takes to get it. If it means stompin’ you into a bloody mess…then girl, please forgive me. But I guess it’s nothin’ that some cosmetic surgery couldn’t cure. No man and especially no female is gonna stop me from livin’ out my dream…and that’s to stand tall on top of GXW with tha Unified World title around my waist.
I said it before and I’ll say it again. Tha only time I am on my back is bench-pressin’ or bonin’ beeyatchez. So unless you plan on bringin’ some weights or puttin’ on a French maid outfit, you can forget about ever beatin’ me. You want to rewrite history and all that, cool. Do tha damn thang, girl. But if that includes a chapter entitled tha Last Stand of Boogie Smallz, then I might have a lil’ problem with that.
(Puffs his blunt and looks back into the camera.)
Tha lil’ line you said at tha end of your promo was really cute. But what happens when that author gets an idea in their head…and tha pen they was holdin’ is out of ink? No turnin’ back? Not even then? Guess you’re just ish out of luck, huh? Better hope that doesn’t happen to you. Man, wouldn’t that suck. (Puffs his blunt and ponders a thought.) Wouldn’t an author be better off with one of those lil’ handheld recorders, instead of a pen and paper? (Puffs his blunt.) Maybe I’m just too high and don’t really get your point.
Whatever it was, I am sure it was good. But what were you thinkin’ tryin’ to call me G-Unit? As in 50 Cent? I look around, tha only thang I see worth 50 cent is your penny prostitute ass. Actually, you’d prolly owe me some change if I gave you that much. But I don’t want to be like that, Lindsay. Juxt watch your choice of words and I’ll do my best to return tha courtesy. Other than that, I ain’t got ish else to say. Fade me out.
(FADE TO BLACK)
Last edited:
QueenOfTheRing
AKA Mom
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 2,625
- Points
- 36
Boy, your game is tight...
Fade-in: Side profile of Lindsay Troy, sitting at a modest-looking hotel room desk. A laptop sits off to the side, but Troy has several pieces of paper in front of her. With a pen in hand, she addressed the camera, but never looks directly into it.
Anger management? My dear man, I don't need anger management classes. I'm Italian, and my father's daughter. It's in the genes.
First I'm told I belong in a kitchen, and then I'm told that I'm a prostitute. Insults that fall on deaf ears, and claims that are shrouded in falsehood. I've heard it all before, and the stupidity train continues to roll along at a juggernaut pace.
She chuckles.
Boogie, in order for me to "snitch" on you, that would require parties not knowing or seeing that you're lighting up an illegal substance, on camera, for the whole world to see. And since the officials of this fine company watch our mic spots on a daily basis, it comes as no surprise to them the deviant acts in which you are participating in.
Of course, if by "snitching" you mean drawing you out on camera after every response of mine to show the viewing audience what you're doing, then I guess I am, in a way, "snitching".
Any addiction is a serious one, Boogie. The first step is always admittance, Boogie. You've been smokin so damn long, you don't know the line between addiction and necessity anymore. Don't downplay the seriousness of your practices; blazin for 5, 10, 15 years doesn't make it "ok" because the effects aren't as potent as they once were when you first started up. Don't think that I've just fallen off the turnip truck all doe-eyed into the "real world". I've known my fair share of people addicted to drugs and other things. Some clean themselves up, some waste their life and end up sick, dead, or disease-infested.
I'm not stupid, Boogie. It just... ](she clutches a hand over her heart) ...it just pains me to see so many quality brain cells of yours get fried like an egg on a griddle.
Smirk
Have you ever heard the adjusted rendition of the Golden Rule? "Whoever holds the gold makes the rules"?
Exactly.
I may not become the President Elect of GXW, but by beating you and then beating Miller, I am in a position of considerable power in this company. That's not to say that I'll run around abusing the power that I acquire, but if I'm at the helm as world champ, then you can rest assured that the Reign of the Queen will be a prosperous one, and I will have a say in certain things.
Pause
I'm far from perfect, and I'm even farther from sweet and innocent. I'm no angel, Boogie. Never have been, never will be. I'm the one who has issues? (She snorts in disapproval) Please. I think you've been sleeping too close to the cleaning solvents. You sit there and say that I have issues like you're Montell, which is fairly ironic since your "issues" are way more apparant than my supposed "issues" are. The way that you solve your "issues" is by lighting up a fat chronic blunt and smoking until you're in such a marijuana-induced stupor that your problems float away to a back burner somewhere. Since you're always in a "high" state of mind, you're never really coherent. That explains a lot, doesn't it?
I wasn't aware that A1E and NFW are on every television channel, but maybe your reception is limited...in more ways than one. I guess that would explain why you see me everywhere. I'm not suffering from burnout, but I can understand why you would think you're some sort of authority on the concept. If you want to see burnout, all you have to do is look in the mirror.
Like I said: you want to smoke up in the confines of your hotel room, apartment, house, trailer, whatever, that's fine. Knock yourself out. But when I have to see you do it on camera, in a promo, then that's something entirely different. That's a reflection on the company that I'm forced to keep for 10 plus minutes in a match. Lucky for me, the time when I'm going to be done with you is drawing ever closer.
I've got my own "biz" to handle: managing two, that's right...count them: one, two men in NFW (not "erryone" like you so suggested) and taking care of my "biz" in A1E. I believe in payback, not blood feuds. Of course, sometimes blood is shed, but that's all part of the "biz", isn't it?
As far as me getting laid goes, you don't need to worry about that. I get my quotas filled by one man, every night, and sometimes in the morning and afternoon. That doesn't mean I'm a prostitute, or a whore. That means I'm in a monogamous relationship with someone that I care very much about. Cash your change in somewhere else. This bank is closed.
I don't need to go turning tricks like the "hoodratz" you keep company with.
I didn't believe a whole lot of what Sands was talking about, since it was mostly mindless jibberish, but I did feel the need to listen to what he had to say, as round-about and drove as it was. And since I listened, and listened well, I turned right around and made him eat everything that he said.
I'm not looking to rattle you, Boogie. I'm just looking to beat you. That's all. I've got a vision of my own, and I dare say that it's been a vision that manifests itself every time I step into the ring. I've got a fever, and the only prescription...is the big gold belt around Miller's waist.
How far would you go? To what lengths are you willing to traverse to beat me to get to Miller? Don't say you'd leave me a bloody mess and then not make good on your word, because then I'd be disappointed. Losing to a female isn't so bad, Boogie. Far better men than you have lost to me, and they all turned out fine. So you'd better start entertaining the fact that I have a pretty damn good shot at beating you, and if that should occur, then the realization won't hit you so hard afterwards.
Pause
When writing, I most often use a computer for columns or other such manuscripts. However, not everyone can afford that luxury, or they just have no interest in using a computer. To each his own.
So many sit, with pen and paper, and write that way.
Troy stops for a second, and shakes the pen before tossing it across the room into a garbage can.
Sometimes the pens do run out...
She reaches up and produces a second one from a container filled with pens.
...But lucky for us, we always keep a backup lying about.
Your chapter's already been written, Boogie. Your last stand has yet to occur, but whether it's at my hands or not, remains to be seen.
Fade...
Fade-in: Side profile of Lindsay Troy, sitting at a modest-looking hotel room desk. A laptop sits off to the side, but Troy has several pieces of paper in front of her. With a pen in hand, she addressed the camera, but never looks directly into it.
Anger management? My dear man, I don't need anger management classes. I'm Italian, and my father's daughter. It's in the genes.
First I'm told I belong in a kitchen, and then I'm told that I'm a prostitute. Insults that fall on deaf ears, and claims that are shrouded in falsehood. I've heard it all before, and the stupidity train continues to roll along at a juggernaut pace.
She chuckles.
Boogie, in order for me to "snitch" on you, that would require parties not knowing or seeing that you're lighting up an illegal substance, on camera, for the whole world to see. And since the officials of this fine company watch our mic spots on a daily basis, it comes as no surprise to them the deviant acts in which you are participating in.
Of course, if by "snitching" you mean drawing you out on camera after every response of mine to show the viewing audience what you're doing, then I guess I am, in a way, "snitching".
Any addiction is a serious one, Boogie. The first step is always admittance, Boogie. You've been smokin so damn long, you don't know the line between addiction and necessity anymore. Don't downplay the seriousness of your practices; blazin for 5, 10, 15 years doesn't make it "ok" because the effects aren't as potent as they once were when you first started up. Don't think that I've just fallen off the turnip truck all doe-eyed into the "real world". I've known my fair share of people addicted to drugs and other things. Some clean themselves up, some waste their life and end up sick, dead, or disease-infested.
I'm not stupid, Boogie. It just... ](she clutches a hand over her heart) ...it just pains me to see so many quality brain cells of yours get fried like an egg on a griddle.
Smirk
Have you ever heard the adjusted rendition of the Golden Rule? "Whoever holds the gold makes the rules"?
Exactly.
I may not become the President Elect of GXW, but by beating you and then beating Miller, I am in a position of considerable power in this company. That's not to say that I'll run around abusing the power that I acquire, but if I'm at the helm as world champ, then you can rest assured that the Reign of the Queen will be a prosperous one, and I will have a say in certain things.
Pause
I'm far from perfect, and I'm even farther from sweet and innocent. I'm no angel, Boogie. Never have been, never will be. I'm the one who has issues? (She snorts in disapproval) Please. I think you've been sleeping too close to the cleaning solvents. You sit there and say that I have issues like you're Montell, which is fairly ironic since your "issues" are way more apparant than my supposed "issues" are. The way that you solve your "issues" is by lighting up a fat chronic blunt and smoking until you're in such a marijuana-induced stupor that your problems float away to a back burner somewhere. Since you're always in a "high" state of mind, you're never really coherent. That explains a lot, doesn't it?
I wasn't aware that A1E and NFW are on every television channel, but maybe your reception is limited...in more ways than one. I guess that would explain why you see me everywhere. I'm not suffering from burnout, but I can understand why you would think you're some sort of authority on the concept. If you want to see burnout, all you have to do is look in the mirror.
Like I said: you want to smoke up in the confines of your hotel room, apartment, house, trailer, whatever, that's fine. Knock yourself out. But when I have to see you do it on camera, in a promo, then that's something entirely different. That's a reflection on the company that I'm forced to keep for 10 plus minutes in a match. Lucky for me, the time when I'm going to be done with you is drawing ever closer.
I've got my own "biz" to handle: managing two, that's right...count them: one, two men in NFW (not "erryone" like you so suggested) and taking care of my "biz" in A1E. I believe in payback, not blood feuds. Of course, sometimes blood is shed, but that's all part of the "biz", isn't it?
As far as me getting laid goes, you don't need to worry about that. I get my quotas filled by one man, every night, and sometimes in the morning and afternoon. That doesn't mean I'm a prostitute, or a whore. That means I'm in a monogamous relationship with someone that I care very much about. Cash your change in somewhere else. This bank is closed.
I don't need to go turning tricks like the "hoodratz" you keep company with.
I didn't believe a whole lot of what Sands was talking about, since it was mostly mindless jibberish, but I did feel the need to listen to what he had to say, as round-about and drove as it was. And since I listened, and listened well, I turned right around and made him eat everything that he said.
I'm not looking to rattle you, Boogie. I'm just looking to beat you. That's all. I've got a vision of my own, and I dare say that it's been a vision that manifests itself every time I step into the ring. I've got a fever, and the only prescription...is the big gold belt around Miller's waist.
How far would you go? To what lengths are you willing to traverse to beat me to get to Miller? Don't say you'd leave me a bloody mess and then not make good on your word, because then I'd be disappointed. Losing to a female isn't so bad, Boogie. Far better men than you have lost to me, and they all turned out fine. So you'd better start entertaining the fact that I have a pretty damn good shot at beating you, and if that should occur, then the realization won't hit you so hard afterwards.
Pause
When writing, I most often use a computer for columns or other such manuscripts. However, not everyone can afford that luxury, or they just have no interest in using a computer. To each his own.
So many sit, with pen and paper, and write that way.
Troy stops for a second, and shakes the pen before tossing it across the room into a garbage can.
Sometimes the pens do run out...
She reaches up and produces a second one from a container filled with pens.
...But lucky for us, we always keep a backup lying about.
Your chapter's already been written, Boogie. Your last stand has yet to occur, but whether it's at my hands or not, remains to be seen.
Fade...