Post by Streets Wilson on Sept 23, 2012 12:02:23 GMT -4
(Streets Wilson is sitting down at a dining table, being served Tea by his butler, Sebastian. We seem to have come upon them in the middle of a conversation, ever un-phased by the fact that they are being filmed for t.v)
Sebastian: Yes sir, but he IS the champion.
(Streets Wilson shoots Sebastian a disappointed look he is all too familiar with)
Streets Wilson: … well I already beat him didn’t I? Rolled him up like a joint. Let me get this straight… Other jackasses are already guaranteed a spot, but the man who just pinned the champion 1. 2 … 5
(It’s then Sebastian’s turn to have a disappointed look)
Sebastian: 3 sir.
Streets Wilson: 3. Whatever, you know I’ve had several concussions. The fucking point is I just beat the so called champion. That’s fine then… just like the rest of my life, the powers that be are trying to hold me down. It’s time for me to make that title matter. A championships prestige is ultimately decided by who has previously held it. Well, winning that title does nothing for me… I’ve already held much more important ones. Yeah, I said it. But once Streets Wilson touches that belt: it becomes important. Isn’t it odd though, how people seem surprised that I pinned Lively? Maybe because the talent level around isn’t quite up to par with Streets Wilson. I’m here one week and I roll up the champion and toss him to the side like its nothing. Speaking of which, what is that loser doing in the hall of fame anyway? He’s not Streets Wilson. He can win all the titles, he can get all the recognition, but at the end of the day: he still can’t beat Streets Wilson. 2 sugars Sebastian
(Sebastian puts 2 sugars in Streets Wilson’s tea.)
Sebastian: I suppose not sir, but if and when you face him next, it will not be a tag match.
(Streets Wilson removes his sunglasses and ignoring Sebastian’s comment)
Streets Wilson: I fucking told you this would happen didn’t I? In a matter of almost days of re-entering this organization, I knock off the best this show has to offer. And it wasn’t very hard to do. I didn’t even have to actually knock the man out; I just rolled him up real quick… pure skill and technique. Didn’t I explain this was going to happen?
Sebastian: You most certainly did sir
Streets Wilson: While I am most certainly a legend in the streets, for the type of aggression and pure violence I can bring both in and out of the ring, this can serve as a reminder, there’s no better “wrestler” than Streets Wilson. I’m trained better than anyone else on the planet. Like I said- For things both in and out of the ring. Streets Wilson produces results. I don’t even need to train at this point in my career. I’m already considered a master of my arts. I mean look, I’m lounging in my own home. And that’s got to be the bottom line. It’s got to be about what’s happening in the ring. Michael Lively seems to think it’s about posing for the fans. That’s why he lost. It’s not about posing for the fans; it’s about being the best and getting it done inside the ring. The fans will follow who is the best. That’s why they follow Streets Wilson. It doesn’t matter whether or not they agree with the things I say, or whether they even like what I’m doing in the ring. It matters that they know that every single time I step into the ring: Someone is going to get hurt… bad. There’s not going to be any feigning leaving the match and my partner. There’s no looking at the crowd pathetically wanting and needing their cheers and attention to validate myself.
Sebastian: No you’re certainly not concerned with validation…
Streets Wilson: Let’s just be honest here: the only reason Lively has that belt in the first place, is because Streets Wilson was on vacation. Streets Wilson is back now. So just hand it over now and save yourself the embarrassment and the hospital bill. You know, in all seriousness, the lack of actual talent in this place is appalling.
(Streets Wilson’s expression is one of boredom)
Streets Wilson: How could Lively not be the champion when his competition is a bunch of generic dumbasses who think that calling people “stupid” or a “bum” is cutting a promo? What is this? WWE? You know damn well it isn’t. Because Streets Wilson wouldn’t be on the show. Because if Streets Wilson was, the “voices people would be hearing in their head” would be their family members attempting to get through to them by talking to them on a daily basis while they were in a coma. It would be a very inspiring made for t.v movie. In fact, no one in any other organization could hang with the talent here in APW. So what does that say about Streets Wilson then if I’m so far above all you people? It says I’m the fucking BEST EVER. It doesn’t matter who you put me in that ring against. Anyone on the planet… I’m the still the one you put your money on… every… single… fucking… time. I leave for years… YEARS. And when I come back, its 1 week before I’m back in the title picture, or should be at least. I pin the champion. How pinning the champion in the middle of the ring doesn’t automatically guarantee you a title shot is beyond me.
Sebastian: That is a rather good point sir.
Streets Wilson: but Streets Wilson doesn’t need a guarantee: in order for it to be a guarantee. It’s always guaranteed with Streets Wilson. The FUCKING ANNOUNCERS EVEN KNOW IT. Hell, even Lively himself already knows it. He speaks as if I already HAVE that shot. Because while overly concerned with interacting with the fans: the man is not stupid. He knows there’s only ONE legitimate threat to his championship, and it’s from a man who isn’t even in the match yet.
Sebastian: It’s certainly something to think about.
Streets Wilson: Because Lively remembers Streets Wilson, like the fans do… like I already illustrated. Why most of the other wrestlers are the ones who don’t know about Streets Wilson is the real question, since they’re the ones who are going to have to face me. The reason Michael Lively knows its Streets Wilson who he will be facing at the PPV, is because he’s seen Streets Wilson matches. He knows Streets Wilson’s history. He’s been IN THE RING with Streets Wilson. He’s witnessed Streets Wilson be resurrected from the dead both figuratively and literally, on more than one occasion. But Streets Wilson is so dedicated to this sport that after my death, Streets Wilson was back on the show the next week… Streets Wilson isn’t even a person. Streets Wilson is an idea. A legend. A myth of sorts. The idea that it doesn’t matter what you think about an individual. You can be wrong. The idea is that I’ve already fought battles to even make it to the point that I am even competing in the ring. Before I even began my pro wrestling journey. I was already clawing my way up… not to the top, but to the bottom. I will forever be known as “Streets” Wilson, because not one single day will ever go by that I don’t remind myself, and those around me why I am the person I am. Why I am so strong. How I got to be the way I am. Because the STREETS MADE ME THIS WAY. Walk down the streets of an impoverished area. You’ll most likely run into plenty of people like me. People who were written off a long long time ago. People who aren’t SUPPOSED to amount to anything. Well FUCK YOU.
Sebastian: OH MY!
Streets Wilson: I don’t need your permission to be the best in the world. I can just do it. The streets are in my blood. The streets are lodged deep in my soul. The memory’s of what I have done in my lifetime… just to be able to eat food. The evil things I have done… the people I have hurt… in order to help. I had to do things I didn’t want to, so that today I do what I want, when I want. And I can now help others get what they want to. So maybe some people don’t understand what Streets Wilson is. What Streets Wilson represents. Good, those people are not supposed to understand. The streets understand. The people who come up to me on those streets, with tears in their eyes: and they tell me the joy they felt when I won my Xtreme Championship. They tell me of the happiness, however short lived it may have been, they still tell me of the happiness it brought to their entire family sitting around that television set. To this very day, they still come up to me and tell me of how, for that one moment, themselves, their alcoholic father, their crack addicted mother, and their troubled younger brother… a family only still together, and only physically tolerating each others company because there’s no other way for them to survive, for one moment were not at each other’s throats. For one single moment they weren’t forced by the hopelessness of their own situation into an atmosphere of hate… hate for the other people they see on a daily basis, who weren’t born like they were… poor.
Sebastian (as he is taking away the empty cup that previously held the tea he had served Wilson): Poor indeed sir.
Streets Wilson (putting his sunglasses back on to cover his glassy eyes): To be born and already be poor. You don’t even get a say do you? You didn’t even get a chance to fuck things up for yourself, you were born, and they was already fucked. And these people try every single day to better themselves, to bring more love to the family… to try and break what must be generations of set ways… to bring some love in when common sense dictates all you should be feeling is hate… For those people… For that one second when Streets Wilson raised that championship belt up high… for them… for the streets… for that second only, they were happy.
(Even Sebastian himself seems to be deep in thought at the outlook)
Streets Wilson: And as far as Ace Andrews goes, this IS as far as Ace Andrews goes.
(Streets Wilson jumps up on top of his dining room table and begins to moonwalk across it, signaling this was his one liner for the evening)
Streets Wilson: BOOYAH
(Sebastian quickly snaps out of his day-dream)
Sebastian: PLEASE get down from there sir!
(Streets Wilson reluctantly climbs down)
Streets Wilson: Yeah yeah, so it’s Ace Andrews
Sebastian: Oh dear
Streets Wilson: Yeah oh dear indeed. I can already tell I don’t like this person. A drinking man… well I can sort of respect that… but… This is a man… if you can call him that, he looks like some sort of weird scandalous midget. You know what I mean, something’s off there… I mean, good lord, he looks like a smug child molester…
Sebastian: His face is quite annoying…
Streets Wilson: But this is a man who as far as I can tell, has gotten to where he is based on luck alone. He gambles a lot or some such shit, I don’t know. He thinks luck and money are going to carry him against Streets Wilson? It couldn’t be that he thinks skill will get the job done, since we’ve just recently finished going over how I am the MOST skillful wrestler alive… I think I know what’s going to happen though. He’ll address me in the same way everyone who has no idea with what their dealing with does. He will say that I am somehow “wrong” because of the things I do. There’s something wrong with me because I defend myself when I am mugged. Or that I believe I am the best. There’s something wrong with the fact that I grew up poor, and therefore, there must be something wrong with me. He will claim I am a “bum” or something of the sort... even though it is very clear I am a paid professional wrestler, and actually by quite rich by the average persons standards. The only thing I will “claim” about this man is that I am going to beat him. The rest of what I have to say is as obvious as the time of day when you’re looking at a watch. Ace Andrews basically has what I like to call a “Streets Wilson Complex” He thinks he’s Streets Wilson. He thinks HE’S the best at everything. Well he’s not. I am. He wants to act like his past accomplishments and title reigns from OTHER company’s actually mean anything… Well they don’t. Believe me friends, if Streets Wilson wanted to list titles he’s held in OTHER places, it would be quite a long list, and I LITERALLY don’t think I could even remember them all…
Sebastian: Literally sir?
Streets Wilson: OH YOU KNOW I MEAN IT SEBASTIAN
Sebastian: … Yes sir.
Streets Wilson: He thinks people actually give a shit that he is friends with people who have accomplished things HERE, in APW… Well you can suck each other’s dicks on your own time Andrews; no one wants to see that. But don’t worry; you’re not the first person to mistakenly believe people give a shit about you. Turns out it happens quite a bit. The thing is, I know what people think about me. Well, the people that matter anyway. The Champions, the fans, the announcers, those higher up, like Jeff and the like; they all know Streets Wilson is money. The difference is, I’m not “friends” with these people, they just respect what I’m capable of. A professional wrestler, a good one at least, is the greatest and toughest athlete on the planet. And everyone knows I am the toughest, and the greatest. I really don’t even have to continue speaking here do I? I know, that everyone else knows, that I can’t be stopped… not now… not when I am so ready for what is inevitably to come. I don’t even have to explain what’s going to happen here. Suffice it to say, I’ll be seeing Lively sooner, rather than later. All I need to say is a little advice to “Ace” : I think you should do something.
Sebastian: Run sir?
Streets Wilson: Run. Run and tell your family, run and tell your friends. Tell “Terry” that, tonight is the night I fall. Tonight is the night I face… Streets Wilson
(Streets Wilson sits back down at the dining table, and makes a signal with his hands to Sebastian. Sebastian then hands Streets Wilson a smoking device, and proceeds to light it for him as the scene ends.)
Sebastian: Yes sir, but he IS the champion.
(Streets Wilson shoots Sebastian a disappointed look he is all too familiar with)
Streets Wilson: … well I already beat him didn’t I? Rolled him up like a joint. Let me get this straight… Other jackasses are already guaranteed a spot, but the man who just pinned the champion 1. 2 … 5
(It’s then Sebastian’s turn to have a disappointed look)
Sebastian: 3 sir.
Streets Wilson: 3. Whatever, you know I’ve had several concussions. The fucking point is I just beat the so called champion. That’s fine then… just like the rest of my life, the powers that be are trying to hold me down. It’s time for me to make that title matter. A championships prestige is ultimately decided by who has previously held it. Well, winning that title does nothing for me… I’ve already held much more important ones. Yeah, I said it. But once Streets Wilson touches that belt: it becomes important. Isn’t it odd though, how people seem surprised that I pinned Lively? Maybe because the talent level around isn’t quite up to par with Streets Wilson. I’m here one week and I roll up the champion and toss him to the side like its nothing. Speaking of which, what is that loser doing in the hall of fame anyway? He’s not Streets Wilson. He can win all the titles, he can get all the recognition, but at the end of the day: he still can’t beat Streets Wilson. 2 sugars Sebastian
(Sebastian puts 2 sugars in Streets Wilson’s tea.)
Sebastian: I suppose not sir, but if and when you face him next, it will not be a tag match.
(Streets Wilson removes his sunglasses and ignoring Sebastian’s comment)
Streets Wilson: I fucking told you this would happen didn’t I? In a matter of almost days of re-entering this organization, I knock off the best this show has to offer. And it wasn’t very hard to do. I didn’t even have to actually knock the man out; I just rolled him up real quick… pure skill and technique. Didn’t I explain this was going to happen?
Sebastian: You most certainly did sir
Streets Wilson: While I am most certainly a legend in the streets, for the type of aggression and pure violence I can bring both in and out of the ring, this can serve as a reminder, there’s no better “wrestler” than Streets Wilson. I’m trained better than anyone else on the planet. Like I said- For things both in and out of the ring. Streets Wilson produces results. I don’t even need to train at this point in my career. I’m already considered a master of my arts. I mean look, I’m lounging in my own home. And that’s got to be the bottom line. It’s got to be about what’s happening in the ring. Michael Lively seems to think it’s about posing for the fans. That’s why he lost. It’s not about posing for the fans; it’s about being the best and getting it done inside the ring. The fans will follow who is the best. That’s why they follow Streets Wilson. It doesn’t matter whether or not they agree with the things I say, or whether they even like what I’m doing in the ring. It matters that they know that every single time I step into the ring: Someone is going to get hurt… bad. There’s not going to be any feigning leaving the match and my partner. There’s no looking at the crowd pathetically wanting and needing their cheers and attention to validate myself.
Sebastian: No you’re certainly not concerned with validation…
Streets Wilson: Let’s just be honest here: the only reason Lively has that belt in the first place, is because Streets Wilson was on vacation. Streets Wilson is back now. So just hand it over now and save yourself the embarrassment and the hospital bill. You know, in all seriousness, the lack of actual talent in this place is appalling.
(Streets Wilson’s expression is one of boredom)
Streets Wilson: How could Lively not be the champion when his competition is a bunch of generic dumbasses who think that calling people “stupid” or a “bum” is cutting a promo? What is this? WWE? You know damn well it isn’t. Because Streets Wilson wouldn’t be on the show. Because if Streets Wilson was, the “voices people would be hearing in their head” would be their family members attempting to get through to them by talking to them on a daily basis while they were in a coma. It would be a very inspiring made for t.v movie. In fact, no one in any other organization could hang with the talent here in APW. So what does that say about Streets Wilson then if I’m so far above all you people? It says I’m the fucking BEST EVER. It doesn’t matter who you put me in that ring against. Anyone on the planet… I’m the still the one you put your money on… every… single… fucking… time. I leave for years… YEARS. And when I come back, its 1 week before I’m back in the title picture, or should be at least. I pin the champion. How pinning the champion in the middle of the ring doesn’t automatically guarantee you a title shot is beyond me.
Sebastian: That is a rather good point sir.
Streets Wilson: but Streets Wilson doesn’t need a guarantee: in order for it to be a guarantee. It’s always guaranteed with Streets Wilson. The FUCKING ANNOUNCERS EVEN KNOW IT. Hell, even Lively himself already knows it. He speaks as if I already HAVE that shot. Because while overly concerned with interacting with the fans: the man is not stupid. He knows there’s only ONE legitimate threat to his championship, and it’s from a man who isn’t even in the match yet.
Sebastian: It’s certainly something to think about.
Streets Wilson: Because Lively remembers Streets Wilson, like the fans do… like I already illustrated. Why most of the other wrestlers are the ones who don’t know about Streets Wilson is the real question, since they’re the ones who are going to have to face me. The reason Michael Lively knows its Streets Wilson who he will be facing at the PPV, is because he’s seen Streets Wilson matches. He knows Streets Wilson’s history. He’s been IN THE RING with Streets Wilson. He’s witnessed Streets Wilson be resurrected from the dead both figuratively and literally, on more than one occasion. But Streets Wilson is so dedicated to this sport that after my death, Streets Wilson was back on the show the next week… Streets Wilson isn’t even a person. Streets Wilson is an idea. A legend. A myth of sorts. The idea that it doesn’t matter what you think about an individual. You can be wrong. The idea is that I’ve already fought battles to even make it to the point that I am even competing in the ring. Before I even began my pro wrestling journey. I was already clawing my way up… not to the top, but to the bottom. I will forever be known as “Streets” Wilson, because not one single day will ever go by that I don’t remind myself, and those around me why I am the person I am. Why I am so strong. How I got to be the way I am. Because the STREETS MADE ME THIS WAY. Walk down the streets of an impoverished area. You’ll most likely run into plenty of people like me. People who were written off a long long time ago. People who aren’t SUPPOSED to amount to anything. Well FUCK YOU.
Sebastian: OH MY!
Streets Wilson: I don’t need your permission to be the best in the world. I can just do it. The streets are in my blood. The streets are lodged deep in my soul. The memory’s of what I have done in my lifetime… just to be able to eat food. The evil things I have done… the people I have hurt… in order to help. I had to do things I didn’t want to, so that today I do what I want, when I want. And I can now help others get what they want to. So maybe some people don’t understand what Streets Wilson is. What Streets Wilson represents. Good, those people are not supposed to understand. The streets understand. The people who come up to me on those streets, with tears in their eyes: and they tell me the joy they felt when I won my Xtreme Championship. They tell me of the happiness, however short lived it may have been, they still tell me of the happiness it brought to their entire family sitting around that television set. To this very day, they still come up to me and tell me of how, for that one moment, themselves, their alcoholic father, their crack addicted mother, and their troubled younger brother… a family only still together, and only physically tolerating each others company because there’s no other way for them to survive, for one moment were not at each other’s throats. For one single moment they weren’t forced by the hopelessness of their own situation into an atmosphere of hate… hate for the other people they see on a daily basis, who weren’t born like they were… poor.
Sebastian (as he is taking away the empty cup that previously held the tea he had served Wilson): Poor indeed sir.
Streets Wilson (putting his sunglasses back on to cover his glassy eyes): To be born and already be poor. You don’t even get a say do you? You didn’t even get a chance to fuck things up for yourself, you were born, and they was already fucked. And these people try every single day to better themselves, to bring more love to the family… to try and break what must be generations of set ways… to bring some love in when common sense dictates all you should be feeling is hate… For those people… For that one second when Streets Wilson raised that championship belt up high… for them… for the streets… for that second only, they were happy.
(Even Sebastian himself seems to be deep in thought at the outlook)
Streets Wilson: And as far as Ace Andrews goes, this IS as far as Ace Andrews goes.
(Streets Wilson jumps up on top of his dining room table and begins to moonwalk across it, signaling this was his one liner for the evening)
Streets Wilson: BOOYAH
(Sebastian quickly snaps out of his day-dream)
Sebastian: PLEASE get down from there sir!
(Streets Wilson reluctantly climbs down)
Streets Wilson: Yeah yeah, so it’s Ace Andrews
Sebastian: Oh dear
Streets Wilson: Yeah oh dear indeed. I can already tell I don’t like this person. A drinking man… well I can sort of respect that… but… This is a man… if you can call him that, he looks like some sort of weird scandalous midget. You know what I mean, something’s off there… I mean, good lord, he looks like a smug child molester…
Sebastian: His face is quite annoying…
Streets Wilson: But this is a man who as far as I can tell, has gotten to where he is based on luck alone. He gambles a lot or some such shit, I don’t know. He thinks luck and money are going to carry him against Streets Wilson? It couldn’t be that he thinks skill will get the job done, since we’ve just recently finished going over how I am the MOST skillful wrestler alive… I think I know what’s going to happen though. He’ll address me in the same way everyone who has no idea with what their dealing with does. He will say that I am somehow “wrong” because of the things I do. There’s something wrong with me because I defend myself when I am mugged. Or that I believe I am the best. There’s something wrong with the fact that I grew up poor, and therefore, there must be something wrong with me. He will claim I am a “bum” or something of the sort... even though it is very clear I am a paid professional wrestler, and actually by quite rich by the average persons standards. The only thing I will “claim” about this man is that I am going to beat him. The rest of what I have to say is as obvious as the time of day when you’re looking at a watch. Ace Andrews basically has what I like to call a “Streets Wilson Complex” He thinks he’s Streets Wilson. He thinks HE’S the best at everything. Well he’s not. I am. He wants to act like his past accomplishments and title reigns from OTHER company’s actually mean anything… Well they don’t. Believe me friends, if Streets Wilson wanted to list titles he’s held in OTHER places, it would be quite a long list, and I LITERALLY don’t think I could even remember them all…
Sebastian: Literally sir?
Streets Wilson: OH YOU KNOW I MEAN IT SEBASTIAN
Sebastian: … Yes sir.
Streets Wilson: He thinks people actually give a shit that he is friends with people who have accomplished things HERE, in APW… Well you can suck each other’s dicks on your own time Andrews; no one wants to see that. But don’t worry; you’re not the first person to mistakenly believe people give a shit about you. Turns out it happens quite a bit. The thing is, I know what people think about me. Well, the people that matter anyway. The Champions, the fans, the announcers, those higher up, like Jeff and the like; they all know Streets Wilson is money. The difference is, I’m not “friends” with these people, they just respect what I’m capable of. A professional wrestler, a good one at least, is the greatest and toughest athlete on the planet. And everyone knows I am the toughest, and the greatest. I really don’t even have to continue speaking here do I? I know, that everyone else knows, that I can’t be stopped… not now… not when I am so ready for what is inevitably to come. I don’t even have to explain what’s going to happen here. Suffice it to say, I’ll be seeing Lively sooner, rather than later. All I need to say is a little advice to “Ace” : I think you should do something.
Sebastian: Run sir?
Streets Wilson: Run. Run and tell your family, run and tell your friends. Tell “Terry” that, tonight is the night I fall. Tonight is the night I face… Streets Wilson
(Streets Wilson sits back down at the dining table, and makes a signal with his hands to Sebastian. Sebastian then hands Streets Wilson a smoking device, and proceeds to light it for him as the scene ends.)
