UNLEASHED '08: TV Title Match For Vacant Belt: Fusenshoff vs. Stalker - Stalker Rules
- Thread starter DBrunkGXW
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Stalker
I stalk, because I care
- Joined
- May 2, 2007
- Messages
- 894
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- 18
- Age
- 41
Re: UNLEASHED '08: TV Title Match: Ice Tre (c) vs. Fusenshoff vs. Stalker - Stalker R
Stalker: "It's finally upon us."
(Fade in. Jason Reeves sitting lazily in the corner of a wrestling ring in an unknown arena. Dressed in his usual street attire he looks about the same as he always does. This time however, he has those taped fists, with the glass shards covering them like sharp spikes.)
"Troy already agreed to it. There is no backing out now, the contract is signed, much like a death warrant signed in blood. The names on that contrat? Fusenshoff, Ice Tre and myself. What will it mean for the viewers at Unleashed? Simple. It will mean the birth of a new champion and a new way of thinking."
"The life of hardcore."
"You two have no idea what it truly means, what you truly have brought upon yourselves. Ice Tre, remember Black Dawn? You were stuck in a cage with me and I destroyed you. YOU FELL through the GOD damned ring to get away from me. You are not going to be so lucky this time. If you do decide to run, you'll still lose your belt you paper champ *****."
"Fusenshoff, I bet you had no idea that running into me like you did would turn into something like this did you? I 'SHOWED' you that you did not deserve that championship around your waist. You cry about wanting even matches and fair challenges. Let me tell you something kid, nothing in this life is fair and or even. My battle scars should tell you that much. Then to top it off, priding yourself on being able to focus in on your opponent you easily get distracted by the likes of me. What does it cost you? A loss to the joke of wrestling."
"Yeah, Tre, THE JOKE of wrestling. You deserve that belt as much as you deserve to wake up every morning. You are a garbage bag on the side of the street that the garbage men forget to pick up. Worthless, useless and nothing more then something that people want to get rid of. This isn't a movie where the hero always comes out on top at the end. This is the real life. Your bones will break, your ego will suffer and your arms will lay motionless on the ground while I beat you senseless. However, you are the hero of the people... of the fans of Empire Pro Wrestling. Tre... every hero needs a villain. At Unleashed i'm yours."
"You two will bleed, fight, become exhausted and then succumb. My rules are not for the weak. Ask the ones that have participated in MY WORLD. Only one thing remains and that is Unleashed, it will be the dawn of a new era, the HARDCORE era and I will reign as ruler. Paper champ ***** and Fusenshoff this isn't simply a match....... it's a chapter of your life."
(Fade.)
Stalker: "It's finally upon us."
(Fade in. Jason Reeves sitting lazily in the corner of a wrestling ring in an unknown arena. Dressed in his usual street attire he looks about the same as he always does. This time however, he has those taped fists, with the glass shards covering them like sharp spikes.)
"Troy already agreed to it. There is no backing out now, the contract is signed, much like a death warrant signed in blood. The names on that contrat? Fusenshoff, Ice Tre and myself. What will it mean for the viewers at Unleashed? Simple. It will mean the birth of a new champion and a new way of thinking."
"The life of hardcore."
"You two have no idea what it truly means, what you truly have brought upon yourselves. Ice Tre, remember Black Dawn? You were stuck in a cage with me and I destroyed you. YOU FELL through the GOD damned ring to get away from me. You are not going to be so lucky this time. If you do decide to run, you'll still lose your belt you paper champ *****."
"Fusenshoff, I bet you had no idea that running into me like you did would turn into something like this did you? I 'SHOWED' you that you did not deserve that championship around your waist. You cry about wanting even matches and fair challenges. Let me tell you something kid, nothing in this life is fair and or even. My battle scars should tell you that much. Then to top it off, priding yourself on being able to focus in on your opponent you easily get distracted by the likes of me. What does it cost you? A loss to the joke of wrestling."
"Yeah, Tre, THE JOKE of wrestling. You deserve that belt as much as you deserve to wake up every morning. You are a garbage bag on the side of the street that the garbage men forget to pick up. Worthless, useless and nothing more then something that people want to get rid of. This isn't a movie where the hero always comes out on top at the end. This is the real life. Your bones will break, your ego will suffer and your arms will lay motionless on the ground while I beat you senseless. However, you are the hero of the people... of the fans of Empire Pro Wrestling. Tre... every hero needs a villain. At Unleashed i'm yours."
"You two will bleed, fight, become exhausted and then succumb. My rules are not for the weak. Ask the ones that have participated in MY WORLD. Only one thing remains and that is Unleashed, it will be the dawn of a new era, the HARDCORE era and I will reign as ruler. Paper champ ***** and Fusenshoff this isn't simply a match....... it's a chapter of your life."
(Fade.)
Fusenshoff
League Member
Re: UNLEASHED '08: TV Title Match: Ice Tre (c) vs. Fusenshoff vs. Stalker - Stalker R
Fade in to Fusenshoff at a pub called O'Neill's just outside of AT&T Park in San Francisco, CA. A shot and a beer beckon to be introduced to his lips. Fusenshoff looks tired and angrier than usual. People in San Francisco are known for their tolerance, but Fuse gets a few looks every once in a while from slamming his shot glass down or just pounding the bar counter. The bartender is keeping a close eye on him. Fusenshoff has been sitting at this bar letting the hours wash away when an interesting advertisement comes on the television
TV ad V/O: “So what is a sociopath? A serial killer that strolls from one victim to another? Possibly, but not often. Ask yourself this: is there someone in your life unable to form any kind of emotional bond with another person? Does he or she seem to be always without empathy for others? Does he or she do things that to you seem beyond comprehension; and then carry on as if those actions made no difference? Does he or she like dangerous, outrageous or socially/sexually unacceptable activities that provide a thrill? If you see this dynamic in your partner, family member, coworker, or friend, you are probably dealing with a sociopath.”
Fuse continues watching the advertisement and is stunned to learn that it's for a program, which costs money, to help people learn to cope with the sociopath in their lives. He turns to face the camera that’s focused on his reaction.
Fusenshoff: “That has to be the craziest damn thing I've seen in my life. A book and program to teach men and women how to live with a sociopath? The ironic thing is, I find it appalling, and yet I've been doing just that.
“I've been letting Stalker ruin the only thing that matters to me. We all saw what he did to Rocko for months on end. Now I'm in his cross-hairs.
“Is this what you really wanted Stalker? You piss me off week after week. You ruin my matches, knowing full well it's all I have to look forward to. But there's one more thing I've noticed Stalker...
“You've been losing- a lot!
“You've been getting your ass handed to you for months now. Whether it's with the satanic skank in your corner or not, you've been looking like a crack-head in a courtroom. Just another pathetic loser.
“Yet you're in this match at Unleashed because you're the most aggressive schizoid this side of Charles Manson. Forget the conventional route, right Stalker?
“You know... actually earning your title shot.
“Nope. You'd rather just lose, then run-in. Lose, then run in; lose, then run-in.
“And you know what? That works out just beautifully for me. It works out because I get my redemption at Unleashed. You, me and the guy who whooped your ass at Black Dawn, Sir Frisked-A-Lot, are playing by Stalker's Rules now. Anything goes. You get to tape **** to your knuckles… but guess what, it’s a street with two sides Stalker.
Fusenshoff takes a minute and seems to be pondering his next words.
“I have a hypothetical for you Jason, so bear with me. Let's say we're at AT&T Park, wrestling in front of the forty-two thousand plus fans in attendance. I'm doing my best to break both your legs with an aluminum baseball bat for the grief you've caused me. You're making sh*t up as you go along. Despite trying to clarify the rules twice for Kin Hiroshi, you're about as good at explaining yourself as a stuttering altar boy reading scripture in the midst of a myoclonic twitching attack. Meanwhile, Ice Tre is battle-rapping a prepubescent twelve year-old in the audience because the pimple faced twit called Tre a 'Wanksta'.
“Now I finally have your bones sticking out of your jeans- the pair you borrowed from the roommate you used to share a cardboard box with out on the streets- and mercifully pin you for the three count...
“How will you feel Jason? How will you feel when I beat you in your own match?
“Because let's face it, you've been so excruciatingly egregious in the ring lately that your odds of winning are slim to none and Slim’s in a coma. It’s pretty sad if you get your ass kicked in YOUR WORLD.
“I’d say you have a lot to lose in this match. You’ll miss out on an opportunity for a Television Title shot, but that’s no big deal. You can just threaten to hump Lindsay’s leg and she’ll give you another one. No, the real embarrassment will come when everyone’s laughing at you for changing the rules to fit your strengths, but still you come up short.
“You think because you’re nuttier than a Snickers bar that you have an advantage in a hardcore-themed Stalker’s Rules match. But your confidence can’t be high right now after the beatings you’ve taken. And now that Lindz has evened the playing field, I get my opportunity for vengeance.
“Get ready to reap what you’ve crocheted.”
Fade out as Fusenshoff downs a shot without the slightest grimace. He turns his attention back to the television in the corner of the bar.
Fade in to Fusenshoff at a pub called O'Neill's just outside of AT&T Park in San Francisco, CA. A shot and a beer beckon to be introduced to his lips. Fusenshoff looks tired and angrier than usual. People in San Francisco are known for their tolerance, but Fuse gets a few looks every once in a while from slamming his shot glass down or just pounding the bar counter. The bartender is keeping a close eye on him. Fusenshoff has been sitting at this bar letting the hours wash away when an interesting advertisement comes on the television
TV ad V/O: “So what is a sociopath? A serial killer that strolls from one victim to another? Possibly, but not often. Ask yourself this: is there someone in your life unable to form any kind of emotional bond with another person? Does he or she seem to be always without empathy for others? Does he or she do things that to you seem beyond comprehension; and then carry on as if those actions made no difference? Does he or she like dangerous, outrageous or socially/sexually unacceptable activities that provide a thrill? If you see this dynamic in your partner, family member, coworker, or friend, you are probably dealing with a sociopath.”
Fuse continues watching the advertisement and is stunned to learn that it's for a program, which costs money, to help people learn to cope with the sociopath in their lives. He turns to face the camera that’s focused on his reaction.
Fusenshoff: “That has to be the craziest damn thing I've seen in my life. A book and program to teach men and women how to live with a sociopath? The ironic thing is, I find it appalling, and yet I've been doing just that.
“I've been letting Stalker ruin the only thing that matters to me. We all saw what he did to Rocko for months on end. Now I'm in his cross-hairs.
“Is this what you really wanted Stalker? You piss me off week after week. You ruin my matches, knowing full well it's all I have to look forward to. But there's one more thing I've noticed Stalker...
“You've been losing- a lot!
“You've been getting your ass handed to you for months now. Whether it's with the satanic skank in your corner or not, you've been looking like a crack-head in a courtroom. Just another pathetic loser.
“Yet you're in this match at Unleashed because you're the most aggressive schizoid this side of Charles Manson. Forget the conventional route, right Stalker?
“You know... actually earning your title shot.
“Nope. You'd rather just lose, then run-in. Lose, then run in; lose, then run-in.
“And you know what? That works out just beautifully for me. It works out because I get my redemption at Unleashed. You, me and the guy who whooped your ass at Black Dawn, Sir Frisked-A-Lot, are playing by Stalker's Rules now. Anything goes. You get to tape **** to your knuckles… but guess what, it’s a street with two sides Stalker.
Fusenshoff takes a minute and seems to be pondering his next words.
“I have a hypothetical for you Jason, so bear with me. Let's say we're at AT&T Park, wrestling in front of the forty-two thousand plus fans in attendance. I'm doing my best to break both your legs with an aluminum baseball bat for the grief you've caused me. You're making sh*t up as you go along. Despite trying to clarify the rules twice for Kin Hiroshi, you're about as good at explaining yourself as a stuttering altar boy reading scripture in the midst of a myoclonic twitching attack. Meanwhile, Ice Tre is battle-rapping a prepubescent twelve year-old in the audience because the pimple faced twit called Tre a 'Wanksta'.
“Now I finally have your bones sticking out of your jeans- the pair you borrowed from the roommate you used to share a cardboard box with out on the streets- and mercifully pin you for the three count...
“How will you feel Jason? How will you feel when I beat you in your own match?
“Because let's face it, you've been so excruciatingly egregious in the ring lately that your odds of winning are slim to none and Slim’s in a coma. It’s pretty sad if you get your ass kicked in YOUR WORLD.
“I’d say you have a lot to lose in this match. You’ll miss out on an opportunity for a Television Title shot, but that’s no big deal. You can just threaten to hump Lindsay’s leg and she’ll give you another one. No, the real embarrassment will come when everyone’s laughing at you for changing the rules to fit your strengths, but still you come up short.
“You think because you’re nuttier than a Snickers bar that you have an advantage in a hardcore-themed Stalker’s Rules match. But your confidence can’t be high right now after the beatings you’ve taken. And now that Lindz has evened the playing field, I get my opportunity for vengeance.
“Get ready to reap what you’ve crocheted.”
Fade out as Fusenshoff downs a shot without the slightest grimace. He turns his attention back to the television in the corner of the bar.
Fusenshoff
League Member
Re: UNLEASHED '08: TV Title Match: Ice Tre (c) vs. Fusenshoff vs. Stalker - Stalker R
Fade in to the scene of Fusenshoff atop Coit’s Tower, overlooking the majestic city of San Francisco. From this height at such a late hour man can witness the beautiful lights of the Golden Gate Bridge and the damper solitude of the island known simply as Alcatraz. Fusenshoff turns toward the camera with the city’s skyline as the background.
Fusenshoff: “This match brings me back to my second bout in EPW. The stakes are similar. Once again the Television Title is up for grabs. That aspect of the equation didn’t mean much to me then, and it doesn’t now. As I’ve made clear, glory and gold are just gravitations toward glamour. They’re preoccupations with no purpose other than to distract one from being in the moment. They serve as a faux motivation, nothing more.
“Like at Black Dawn, I’m fighting more than one man in the ring. Last time it was four, this time it’s three. There are factors that must be accounted for in matches of this magnitude. I love the challenge it poses. One must constantly have their finger on the pulse of the action or they’re doomed to watch another man steal their prey.
“It’s a battle of instinct and innovation- my brand of mayhem.”
Fusenshoff pauses to inhale the fresh air atop his perch. He shifts his attention to his opponents.
“Stalker, you say nothing in life is fair or even. It’s because of hacks like you that those two components are taken out of the equation. Guys like you don’t get title shots when life is fair. It’s just not in the cards. You have to scheme your way to rising above the competition. And even? Don’t get me started…
“But hey, you have battle scars. Nice example Reeves. I’ve met beggars that make their plight more convincing.
“There are also your claims regarding Ice Tre. They show just how out-of-touch you really are. I’ll let Tre delve into sorting out that malarkey, if he ever shows up. He certainly has plenty of hogwash to formulate a promising retort. If it were about me, I certainly wouldn’t pass up a chance like that to make you look even more foolish.
“Now that Rocko’s sipping pina coladas on a beach in Maui, you definitely seem like a fish out of water. Once you were regarded as a man destined to begin ascending to higher peaks in Empire Pro. Now you’re struggling to stay afloat. Your time as Stevens’ henchmen has passed. He doesn’t need you for anything more than a placeholder now.
“During your struggles you’ve chosen to cling to me like a leech. You can pretend it’s because we bumped shoulders weeks ago. We both know the truth.
“You’re trying desperately to matter again.
“And I’ve accepted your plea. You’ve ruffled my leather enough to turn a molehill into a mountain. There’s just one problem with that plan. See the glaring mistake yet Jason?
“You didn’t have to fight Daymon, Reeves. You won’t be so lucky with me.
“Your special rules won’t save you at Unleashed. I’m still allowed to pummel you within an inch of your life whether you like it or not.
“You’ve made your bed. It’s the most uncomfortable contraption since quartering was legal and I’m a thoroughbred just waiting to be strapped to the reins.
“And Tre, don’t worry. Out of sight doesn’t always mean out of mind. I don’t know if you’ve been arrested again, but I still plan on having you show up at some point for this thing.”
Fade out as Fusenshoff pulls a flask out of his inner jacket pocket. He turns to admire the view once again.
Fade in to the scene of Fusenshoff atop Coit’s Tower, overlooking the majestic city of San Francisco. From this height at such a late hour man can witness the beautiful lights of the Golden Gate Bridge and the damper solitude of the island known simply as Alcatraz. Fusenshoff turns toward the camera with the city’s skyline as the background.
Fusenshoff: “This match brings me back to my second bout in EPW. The stakes are similar. Once again the Television Title is up for grabs. That aspect of the equation didn’t mean much to me then, and it doesn’t now. As I’ve made clear, glory and gold are just gravitations toward glamour. They’re preoccupations with no purpose other than to distract one from being in the moment. They serve as a faux motivation, nothing more.
“Like at Black Dawn, I’m fighting more than one man in the ring. Last time it was four, this time it’s three. There are factors that must be accounted for in matches of this magnitude. I love the challenge it poses. One must constantly have their finger on the pulse of the action or they’re doomed to watch another man steal their prey.
“It’s a battle of instinct and innovation- my brand of mayhem.”
Fusenshoff pauses to inhale the fresh air atop his perch. He shifts his attention to his opponents.
“Stalker, you say nothing in life is fair or even. It’s because of hacks like you that those two components are taken out of the equation. Guys like you don’t get title shots when life is fair. It’s just not in the cards. You have to scheme your way to rising above the competition. And even? Don’t get me started…
“But hey, you have battle scars. Nice example Reeves. I’ve met beggars that make their plight more convincing.
“There are also your claims regarding Ice Tre. They show just how out-of-touch you really are. I’ll let Tre delve into sorting out that malarkey, if he ever shows up. He certainly has plenty of hogwash to formulate a promising retort. If it were about me, I certainly wouldn’t pass up a chance like that to make you look even more foolish.
“Now that Rocko’s sipping pina coladas on a beach in Maui, you definitely seem like a fish out of water. Once you were regarded as a man destined to begin ascending to higher peaks in Empire Pro. Now you’re struggling to stay afloat. Your time as Stevens’ henchmen has passed. He doesn’t need you for anything more than a placeholder now.
“During your struggles you’ve chosen to cling to me like a leech. You can pretend it’s because we bumped shoulders weeks ago. We both know the truth.
“You’re trying desperately to matter again.
“And I’ve accepted your plea. You’ve ruffled my leather enough to turn a molehill into a mountain. There’s just one problem with that plan. See the glaring mistake yet Jason?
“You didn’t have to fight Daymon, Reeves. You won’t be so lucky with me.
“Your special rules won’t save you at Unleashed. I’m still allowed to pummel you within an inch of your life whether you like it or not.
“You’ve made your bed. It’s the most uncomfortable contraption since quartering was legal and I’m a thoroughbred just waiting to be strapped to the reins.
“And Tre, don’t worry. Out of sight doesn’t always mean out of mind. I don’t know if you’ve been arrested again, but I still plan on having you show up at some point for this thing.”
Fade out as Fusenshoff pulls a flask out of his inner jacket pocket. He turns to admire the view once again.
Stalker
I stalk, because I care
- Joined
- May 2, 2007
- Messages
- 894
- Points
- 18
- Age
- 41
Fake
Stalker: "Ya know, what I find funny?"
(We open up to Jason Reeves sitting in his usual dirty motel room. Two bottles of whiskey are seen poking out of the trash can, empty packs of cigerrates are scattered everywhere, empty cartons of food, dirty clothes, blankets, pillows and everything just scattered. Jason is sitting at a table with a half empty bottle of whiskey in front of him and a glazed look in his eyes.)
"Is for someone who makes it look like they drink a ton doesn't show any effects from it. I bet you... if I were to get a hold of your little flask you are always carrying it would carry no odor, no trace of liquor. Am I right? You put on a show to give yourself an edge in matches. Let me ask you something, Fusenshoff. How does a drunk go from drinking one minute to being completely focused on a match the next? I would be interested to know, because like you pretend I actually endure."
(Jason's hand, shaking, grabs a glass and pulls it over. He pours himself a fair amount and then takes a quick swig. After placing the glass back down it's easily shown that his hand is no longer shaking.)
"Honestly Fuse... I don't see it in you. But... let's be hypothetical for a moment here. If it were true that you are an alcoholic, what reason could you possibly have to allow that upon a person such as yourself. You're a fake. You want the world to love you because of the supposed tradegies you've faced. I could give a RAT'S ASS IF THE WORLD LOVES ME YOU LITTLE *****. Death, divorce, bankruptcy and loss of sense of mind. That's why I have to offer, what about yourself? Have you ever been on top of the world? To only see it come crashing down around you? I didn't think so."
(Another drink and this time a light of a cigerrate.)
"Obviously at this point Tre is running himself crazy, a scared little child in a man's game. But Fuse.. you try and stand there... YOU TRY and stand there to prove to me that you are something that you aren't. You can talk about how I make no sense, how i'm a fish out of water that just babbles and babbles. Well that comes with being what I am. I have no reason to fake it like you. I don't have to give myself fake reasons to keep going forward. You want fair matches and challenges? **** that, you're an idiot. You throw those statements out at the same time you drink your fake liquor. It's embarrassing."
(Putting out his cig, Jason blows out a pillar of smoke.)
"Tell me truthfully how anyone is supposed to believe you? You are a ****ing fake. At Unleashed i'll prove it."
(Fade.)
Stalker: "Ya know, what I find funny?"
(We open up to Jason Reeves sitting in his usual dirty motel room. Two bottles of whiskey are seen poking out of the trash can, empty packs of cigerrates are scattered everywhere, empty cartons of food, dirty clothes, blankets, pillows and everything just scattered. Jason is sitting at a table with a half empty bottle of whiskey in front of him and a glazed look in his eyes.)
"Is for someone who makes it look like they drink a ton doesn't show any effects from it. I bet you... if I were to get a hold of your little flask you are always carrying it would carry no odor, no trace of liquor. Am I right? You put on a show to give yourself an edge in matches. Let me ask you something, Fusenshoff. How does a drunk go from drinking one minute to being completely focused on a match the next? I would be interested to know, because like you pretend I actually endure."
(Jason's hand, shaking, grabs a glass and pulls it over. He pours himself a fair amount and then takes a quick swig. After placing the glass back down it's easily shown that his hand is no longer shaking.)
"Honestly Fuse... I don't see it in you. But... let's be hypothetical for a moment here. If it were true that you are an alcoholic, what reason could you possibly have to allow that upon a person such as yourself. You're a fake. You want the world to love you because of the supposed tradegies you've faced. I could give a RAT'S ASS IF THE WORLD LOVES ME YOU LITTLE *****. Death, divorce, bankruptcy and loss of sense of mind. That's why I have to offer, what about yourself? Have you ever been on top of the world? To only see it come crashing down around you? I didn't think so."
(Another drink and this time a light of a cigerrate.)
"Obviously at this point Tre is running himself crazy, a scared little child in a man's game. But Fuse.. you try and stand there... YOU TRY and stand there to prove to me that you are something that you aren't. You can talk about how I make no sense, how i'm a fish out of water that just babbles and babbles. Well that comes with being what I am. I have no reason to fake it like you. I don't have to give myself fake reasons to keep going forward. You want fair matches and challenges? **** that, you're an idiot. You throw those statements out at the same time you drink your fake liquor. It's embarrassing."
(Putting out his cig, Jason blows out a pillar of smoke.)
"Tell me truthfully how anyone is supposed to believe you? You are a ****ing fake. At Unleashed i'll prove it."
(Fade.)
Last edited:
Stalker
I stalk, because I care
- Joined
- May 2, 2007
- Messages
- 894
- Points
- 18
- Age
- 41
Re: UNLEASHED '08: TV Title Match: Ice Tre (c) vs. Fusenshoff vs. Stalker - Stalker R
(We fade into a vacant parking lot. Jason Reeves stands in the middle of it, looking as horrid as ever, however he no longer supports himself on the cane that has been by his side for the past few months. Wearing dark pants, white shirt, leather jacket and his hair.... as usual is ragged looking. Blowing a pillar of smoke out of his mouth as he drops his cig on the ground he stares into the camera.)
Stalker: "Let me stop you right there, Fuse."
(Holding his hand forward signaling a stop like he would to a child, his eyes lights up with what looks to be a rage.)
"Before you even think about going down the road, THAT I KNOW you are thinking about. Just stop. Others have tried it before and have failed. So I suggest that before you take 'that road', you think upon the life of Rocko Daymon that I destroyed. You think he is truly happy? You really do? Let me ask you something Fuse... where was Caitlyn? The woman that was by his side through and through WHERE was she? Nowhere to be seen, now honestly that doesn't look like a happy man to me. That looks like someone i'm extremely familiar with and you have yet to come to know. MYSELF."
"The anger... the loss... the downright hatred for those who put me in my place. You have no idea what that is like Fusenshoff. Not yet anyways. From the words that you spoke I can see it coming upon us however. I can see that years from now this match will be only the start of a truly remarkable breakthrough for you. One where not only you find yourself, but you find the answers to the questions of why you 'fake' the things that you do. Why you put on this visage to get people to cheer for you. What was it.. Fuse? What was it that was so horrible that you decided you had to take it upon yourself to MAKE UP a reason to move forward. TO hide behind a bottle that truly doesn't wash away your sins. My bottle does."
"You ever ask yourself why the fans cheer you? Because they do if you haven't noticed. They cheer you because they think you are depressed, lonely and only looking for cause in your life. Well, i'll tell you that's all a bunch of ****. You are no more a drunk then you are a focused athlete, you honestly expect me to believe with the way you conduct yourself that all you put on is true? It's not, boy. At Unleashed, when it's me you and Ice Tre, you're supposed focus on the match at hand won't do **** for you. Wanna know why? Because when it finally comes time for it to happen i'll find your weakness and i'll expose it."
(Crossing his arms across his chest he looks down at the ground and then back up to the camera.)
"Soulja boy? Where you be? Don't think that I have forgotten about you. Black Dawn was just the start of your pain and it will continue at Unleashed, it's been a long time coming but I finally get my second chance to give you no escape. You'll have nowhere to hide, nowhere to run and if you try i'll find you and make you wish you never came at me like you did months ago."
(Extending his arms as if to invite everything around him, Stalker looks into the camera one last time.)
"Welcome........."
(We fade into a vacant parking lot. Jason Reeves stands in the middle of it, looking as horrid as ever, however he no longer supports himself on the cane that has been by his side for the past few months. Wearing dark pants, white shirt, leather jacket and his hair.... as usual is ragged looking. Blowing a pillar of smoke out of his mouth as he drops his cig on the ground he stares into the camera.)
Stalker: "Let me stop you right there, Fuse."
(Holding his hand forward signaling a stop like he would to a child, his eyes lights up with what looks to be a rage.)
"Before you even think about going down the road, THAT I KNOW you are thinking about. Just stop. Others have tried it before and have failed. So I suggest that before you take 'that road', you think upon the life of Rocko Daymon that I destroyed. You think he is truly happy? You really do? Let me ask you something Fuse... where was Caitlyn? The woman that was by his side through and through WHERE was she? Nowhere to be seen, now honestly that doesn't look like a happy man to me. That looks like someone i'm extremely familiar with and you have yet to come to know. MYSELF."
"The anger... the loss... the downright hatred for those who put me in my place. You have no idea what that is like Fusenshoff. Not yet anyways. From the words that you spoke I can see it coming upon us however. I can see that years from now this match will be only the start of a truly remarkable breakthrough for you. One where not only you find yourself, but you find the answers to the questions of why you 'fake' the things that you do. Why you put on this visage to get people to cheer for you. What was it.. Fuse? What was it that was so horrible that you decided you had to take it upon yourself to MAKE UP a reason to move forward. TO hide behind a bottle that truly doesn't wash away your sins. My bottle does."
"You ever ask yourself why the fans cheer you? Because they do if you haven't noticed. They cheer you because they think you are depressed, lonely and only looking for cause in your life. Well, i'll tell you that's all a bunch of ****. You are no more a drunk then you are a focused athlete, you honestly expect me to believe with the way you conduct yourself that all you put on is true? It's not, boy. At Unleashed, when it's me you and Ice Tre, you're supposed focus on the match at hand won't do **** for you. Wanna know why? Because when it finally comes time for it to happen i'll find your weakness and i'll expose it."
(Crossing his arms across his chest he looks down at the ground and then back up to the camera.)
"Soulja boy? Where you be? Don't think that I have forgotten about you. Black Dawn was just the start of your pain and it will continue at Unleashed, it's been a long time coming but I finally get my second chance to give you no escape. You'll have nowhere to hide, nowhere to run and if you try i'll find you and make you wish you never came at me like you did months ago."
(Extending his arms as if to invite everything around him, Stalker looks into the camera one last time.)
"Welcome........."
Fusenshoff
League Member
Re: UNLEASHED '08: TV Title Match: Ice Tre (c) vs. Fusenshoff vs. Stalker - Stalker R
Fade in to Fusenshoff sitting on a stool with an EPW backdrop. His attire is typical, but one thing is glaringly missing- no booze can be found.
Fusenshoff: “I saw your first response to both my promos. I’ll be kind one time, but that’s all you get. I’ll simply say… it left me with plenty to work with.
“Ready to make you look utterly asinine, I look up to see you’ve done it for me already.
“Just go ahead and shoot promos whenever you like Jason. No one’s stopping you. You can get away with it. Do whatever the hell you want. We’re in STALKER’S WORLD now, after all.
“Go take a sh*t in the middle of the ring at Unleashed.
“It’s basically the same thing as cutting promos whenever the mood strikes. Let’s look at the similarities. Both actions are technically possible. It’s not allowed and doesn’t really help, but under the right circumstances you can get away with it before being punished. Both actions hurt your chances of actually walking away breathing in this match. If you pinch off a loaf I’m gonna rub your face in it. I don’t recommend heavy breathing after that.
“Finally, both actions make you look like a complete and unmitigated jackass, something you’re making more and more evident over the course of this week.
“Which brings me to the actual content of your promos, another tradegy in itself.
“The definition of tradegy- when one chooses to speak a sentence aloud that fails to develop any semblance of coherency and opts to take pride in the statement.
“Like when one says ‘I would be interested to know, because like you pretend I actually endure.’ Then one grins smartly like a retard holding up what looks to be a drawing of a shoe and gloats over sketching his pet dog.
“Like when one says ‘You can talk about how I make no sense, how i'm a fish out of water that just babbles and babbles. Well that comes with being what I am.’ I didn’t edit this for the fans’ amusement. I didn’t take it out of context. These are the exact words, verbatim, of my opponent this week.”
Fusenshoff stares blankly at the camera. It’s clear that he’s simply shining the light on Stalker digging his own grave.
“Since I’m forced to go on, I’ll respond to Reeves’ accusation that I’ve never been on top of the world only to have it crumble around me. I was captain of my high school football team as both linebacker and quarterback. That’s been in my bio since the day I joined EPW. You know, that thing you read when you’re about to fight someone? In some circles, that merits the classification of ‘being on top of the world.’ After the accident I lost literally everything. I haven’t killed myself only because it’s the coward’s way out. I could care less whether you think that’s ‘crumbled’ enough or not… you lost all credibility a couple days ago.
“Then there’s this ‘fake’ Fusenshoff angle you’re desperately clinging to. You’re really riding this one hard. You’re right. Before each promo I have random bartenders fill up their Jack Daniels bottles with apple juices and I sip on that all night. I’m just looking for sympathy. I avoid virtually all social interaction because secretly I want large groups of people to track me down and tell me how sorry they feel for me. And the fans cheer for me because they think I’m depressed. Everyone loves people who hide in dark rooms chewing on Prozac and biting their nails while basking in anxiety. Clap, clap, clap for the depressives! Hooray for discouraged people! Go tormented go!
“Good call, Freud. You really hit the nail on the head.”
Fade out as Fusenshoff shakes his head at his plight. He does think people pity him. They pity him for having to deal with the drivel that spews from Stalker’s mouth. A flask can be seen in his inner jacket pocket as he walks off.
Fade in to Fusenshoff sitting on a stool with an EPW backdrop. His attire is typical, but one thing is glaringly missing- no booze can be found.
Fusenshoff: “I saw your first response to both my promos. I’ll be kind one time, but that’s all you get. I’ll simply say… it left me with plenty to work with.
“Ready to make you look utterly asinine, I look up to see you’ve done it for me already.
“Just go ahead and shoot promos whenever you like Jason. No one’s stopping you. You can get away with it. Do whatever the hell you want. We’re in STALKER’S WORLD now, after all.
“Go take a sh*t in the middle of the ring at Unleashed.
“It’s basically the same thing as cutting promos whenever the mood strikes. Let’s look at the similarities. Both actions are technically possible. It’s not allowed and doesn’t really help, but under the right circumstances you can get away with it before being punished. Both actions hurt your chances of actually walking away breathing in this match. If you pinch off a loaf I’m gonna rub your face in it. I don’t recommend heavy breathing after that.
“Finally, both actions make you look like a complete and unmitigated jackass, something you’re making more and more evident over the course of this week.
“Which brings me to the actual content of your promos, another tradegy in itself.
“The definition of tradegy- when one chooses to speak a sentence aloud that fails to develop any semblance of coherency and opts to take pride in the statement.
“Like when one says ‘I would be interested to know, because like you pretend I actually endure.’ Then one grins smartly like a retard holding up what looks to be a drawing of a shoe and gloats over sketching his pet dog.
“Like when one says ‘You can talk about how I make no sense, how i'm a fish out of water that just babbles and babbles. Well that comes with being what I am.’ I didn’t edit this for the fans’ amusement. I didn’t take it out of context. These are the exact words, verbatim, of my opponent this week.”
Fusenshoff stares blankly at the camera. It’s clear that he’s simply shining the light on Stalker digging his own grave.
“Since I’m forced to go on, I’ll respond to Reeves’ accusation that I’ve never been on top of the world only to have it crumble around me. I was captain of my high school football team as both linebacker and quarterback. That’s been in my bio since the day I joined EPW. You know, that thing you read when you’re about to fight someone? In some circles, that merits the classification of ‘being on top of the world.’ After the accident I lost literally everything. I haven’t killed myself only because it’s the coward’s way out. I could care less whether you think that’s ‘crumbled’ enough or not… you lost all credibility a couple days ago.
“Then there’s this ‘fake’ Fusenshoff angle you’re desperately clinging to. You’re really riding this one hard. You’re right. Before each promo I have random bartenders fill up their Jack Daniels bottles with apple juices and I sip on that all night. I’m just looking for sympathy. I avoid virtually all social interaction because secretly I want large groups of people to track me down and tell me how sorry they feel for me. And the fans cheer for me because they think I’m depressed. Everyone loves people who hide in dark rooms chewing on Prozac and biting their nails while basking in anxiety. Clap, clap, clap for the depressives! Hooray for discouraged people! Go tormented go!
“Good call, Freud. You really hit the nail on the head.”
Fade out as Fusenshoff shakes his head at his plight. He does think people pity him. They pity him for having to deal with the drivel that spews from Stalker’s mouth. A flask can be seen in his inner jacket pocket as he walks off.
Stalker
I stalk, because I care
- Joined
- May 2, 2007
- Messages
- 894
- Points
- 18
- Age
- 41
Stalker: "So.... you think you can beat me by simply trying to make me look like a fool?"
(Jason Reeves is seen standing in that same vacant parking lot. However this time it's daytime. He looks to be wearing the same clothes and honestly does not look like he's taken a shower in the last week.)
"You honestly think I read... Bios? Or whatever the hell is it you were talking about? Really? You think that I would actually take my time to read about your past? Come on now do I look like the type of person that would do that? Didn't think so..... It doesn't make you look strong that you have to break down random sentences that originate from my mouth in your promos. By the way.. while you pretend, I actually endure."
(A grin spreads across Jason's face as he pulls out a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket. He shows it to the camera, folded up and claps.... like a mentally disabled person.)
"**** you. Fake ass *****. Listen bottom line is you can be the smart ass all you want to be, I don't care. When it comes time for Unleashed it will no longer be a triple threat for Ice Tre's television title. It will be one versus one, my rules, no chance to pin Tre to beat me. It's not going to happen."
"So what if I called you out on your fake alcoholism? You're also damn right that people will follow you and tell you how sorry they feel for you. I should know because it's truly happened for me before. However as much as they feel for you, they can never truly help you, fill that void. So my best suggestion for you, Fusenshoff, cut the act. Show your true self, your true colors, only then will you be able to cope with what has happened and move on from it."
"Let me clarify something, Fusenshoff. Drinking, like you say you do, would cause you to make mistakes, cause you to slip up and not even realize that. However, you are perfect... I guess. I mean honestly, you claim so much of yourself but yet you drink all the time and show no side effects of it... EVER. I've been through wars you couldn't possibly have dreamed about kid and I show more side effects then the retards that right short buses. It comes with the territory of who I am and what I AM ABOUT."
"IF you can't deal with me forcing the truth out in front of you, then don't even bother showing up. If you can't bring yourself to challenge me directly instead of breaking down my promos, then don't bother showing up. I'm not here to deal with a child that needs to be lead, i'm here to fight a supposed man who is completely focused on winning a match against me. Well, make fun of my supposed incoherent sentences all you want, it's not like i'm writing them down for you to break down. Challenge me and my words that come out of my mouth again. Please, do it. So this way, when i'm chucking you through a car window, at Unleashed, it will give me even more of a reason, to whisper your sister's name in your ear, while i'm doing it."
"Screw yourself even more Fusenshoff, go ahead and do it. ****ing fake."
(Jason walks off and the camera cuts to static.)
(Jason Reeves is seen standing in that same vacant parking lot. However this time it's daytime. He looks to be wearing the same clothes and honestly does not look like he's taken a shower in the last week.)
"You honestly think I read... Bios? Or whatever the hell is it you were talking about? Really? You think that I would actually take my time to read about your past? Come on now do I look like the type of person that would do that? Didn't think so..... It doesn't make you look strong that you have to break down random sentences that originate from my mouth in your promos. By the way.. while you pretend, I actually endure."
(A grin spreads across Jason's face as he pulls out a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket. He shows it to the camera, folded up and claps.... like a mentally disabled person.)
"**** you. Fake ass *****. Listen bottom line is you can be the smart ass all you want to be, I don't care. When it comes time for Unleashed it will no longer be a triple threat for Ice Tre's television title. It will be one versus one, my rules, no chance to pin Tre to beat me. It's not going to happen."
"So what if I called you out on your fake alcoholism? You're also damn right that people will follow you and tell you how sorry they feel for you. I should know because it's truly happened for me before. However as much as they feel for you, they can never truly help you, fill that void. So my best suggestion for you, Fusenshoff, cut the act. Show your true self, your true colors, only then will you be able to cope with what has happened and move on from it."
"Let me clarify something, Fusenshoff. Drinking, like you say you do, would cause you to make mistakes, cause you to slip up and not even realize that. However, you are perfect... I guess. I mean honestly, you claim so much of yourself but yet you drink all the time and show no side effects of it... EVER. I've been through wars you couldn't possibly have dreamed about kid and I show more side effects then the retards that right short buses. It comes with the territory of who I am and what I AM ABOUT."
"IF you can't deal with me forcing the truth out in front of you, then don't even bother showing up. If you can't bring yourself to challenge me directly instead of breaking down my promos, then don't bother showing up. I'm not here to deal with a child that needs to be lead, i'm here to fight a supposed man who is completely focused on winning a match against me. Well, make fun of my supposed incoherent sentences all you want, it's not like i'm writing them down for you to break down. Challenge me and my words that come out of my mouth again. Please, do it. So this way, when i'm chucking you through a car window, at Unleashed, it will give me even more of a reason, to whisper your sister's name in your ear, while i'm doing it."
"Screw yourself even more Fusenshoff, go ahead and do it. ****ing fake."
(Jason walks off and the camera cuts to static.)
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