Post by carl on Nov 27, 2008 8:41:01 GMT -4
We open with your typical old-time electric chair. There, sitting on the aged wood, is a clearly fake human skeleton. The bones of the skeleton are confined by the leather straps, and the skull is still locked into the headpiece. Quite frankly, the whole thing looks like one big, bad and twisted joke.
Voice: It's just this easy, Sabur.
Into view now steps Carl "The Essence Of Egotism" Cage, who looks from the chair to to the camera. With eyebrows cocked and a small smirk on his face, the APW superstar is in a zone of complete confidence. He is wearing Armani fading jeans, a dark blue coloured shirt partly covered by the edges of an open leather jacket.
Cage: You are as helpless as if I had you strapped down in one of these chairs. Your fate is completely out of your own hands, unless you simply choose to avoid our match. But I know right now that that won't happen, because you're too stupid to take that road. It would be the best thing for you, no matter what fines, suspensions, or even firing might come of it. But because of just how foolish you are, you'll charge down to that ring like the animal you seem to think you are. When that bell sounds, you'll see red and come at me without so much as a glimmer of thought. All instinct, all emotions... and all for nothing!
Now, I'm not here to tell you that I'm gonna' break your body, end your career, or even end your life. You will get up, probably under your own power, and return to the back after the match. You will still have a career when it's over. But despite that, you will still be trapped. All the things that confine you against me, Sabur, will still be with you in the weeks, months, and even years to come. You will not survive here in APW while I am on the roster as you are.
Carl gets up close to the chair now, touching the various parts of it as he continues.
Cage: You're strapped in by your lame uneducated words You're trapped by that half-dead blob you think is your brain. That head of yours is crushed from all sides by these lies you tell yourself, suffocating it so that no truth can get in. And when I flip the switch on you at Overdrive, Sabur, it will be all your sad, little perceptions that expire. The current that runs through your body this coming week will be the painful shock of a reality check.
You're a guy who talks like he's been in the game for many decades. You're a fluke who talks like he can hang with the big boys forever. And, like so many, you're a pissed off guy who seems to believe the hand he was dealt had to be worse than everyone else's. You seem to wallow in your memories, letting them grow in your own consciousness beyond the point of reason or reality. Whatever trials you have ever faced Sabur, are now gonna be eclipsed by "The Ego Of All Ego's" Carl Cage.
Stepping forward now, Cage leaves his vivid metaphor behind for a moment and gets up close and personal with the camera. A very sincere, almost cold, mood now overtakes him.
Cage: It is because I am of that sort, Sabur, that you are likely at some point to spout all your mistaken assumptions about me. I have money which I earnt. I am not a child of privilege. There were no silver spoons, fancy colleges, or advanced wrestling training. Our childhoods probably weren’t too different. But when it comes to the end products, my friend... the contrast is beyond words!
I am everything you are NOT Sabur. I am talented. I am exceptional. I am the kind of guy who fans hate because of jealousy. My mere presence steals the spotlight. When the night is over, people leave the arena with my name on their lips. I don't dwell on my upbringing or my roots unlike yourself, because it doesn't play a role in my current life, and especially not in are upcoming match. In fact, nothing about me really matters. All I have to do is show up.
You're worthless, Sabur! You don't have the body or the mind to succeed against me. And while you're chock-full of heart... that's the grossest mistake you'll ever made. And before you retort with some worn-out cliché like "you don't know me," then let me make it clear... I DO know you! We may be in different worlds of ability, but the core that drives you is not so far off from what once drove me.
When I started in this game, I was a fan pleaser because, at the time, I WAS just a big, walking vessel of happiness. I replaced my happiness WITH ANGER. I replayed my love of the game with the hate of my opponents. I stopped fighting for the sake of the people, and started fighting for the sake of the fight. I stepped outside of myself, maybe for the first time in my life, and became extrinsically motivated.
Carl stops, then casts a glance behind him to the electric chair. When he looks back ahead, that confident smirk has returned.
Cage: Something will die when we compete at Overdrive. That much is certain, and completely out of your hands. What it proves to be, though, IS something you can decide. In the wake of defeat, you can wallow some more in your misery and kill off whatever self-respect you have left. Or, you can let the upcoming beating serve as a lesson. You can free yourself of those ignorant perceptions.
You're stepping into the ring with a Legend in the making and a future Hall of Famer. Somewhere deep inside you, hidden in all the wreckage of your memories and jagged beliefs, is the knowledge that you can't win this match. You may of won last week at the PPV but that was with help from the other opponents in the match.
I may be flipping the killswitch on you, but part of you can still survive. Choose the right part, and you might have a future. Choose wrong... and this will only be first of many embarrassments.
With that, the scene fades out.
Voice: It's just this easy, Sabur.
Into view now steps Carl "The Essence Of Egotism" Cage, who looks from the chair to to the camera. With eyebrows cocked and a small smirk on his face, the APW superstar is in a zone of complete confidence. He is wearing Armani fading jeans, a dark blue coloured shirt partly covered by the edges of an open leather jacket.
Cage: You are as helpless as if I had you strapped down in one of these chairs. Your fate is completely out of your own hands, unless you simply choose to avoid our match. But I know right now that that won't happen, because you're too stupid to take that road. It would be the best thing for you, no matter what fines, suspensions, or even firing might come of it. But because of just how foolish you are, you'll charge down to that ring like the animal you seem to think you are. When that bell sounds, you'll see red and come at me without so much as a glimmer of thought. All instinct, all emotions... and all for nothing!
Now, I'm not here to tell you that I'm gonna' break your body, end your career, or even end your life. You will get up, probably under your own power, and return to the back after the match. You will still have a career when it's over. But despite that, you will still be trapped. All the things that confine you against me, Sabur, will still be with you in the weeks, months, and even years to come. You will not survive here in APW while I am on the roster as you are.
Carl gets up close to the chair now, touching the various parts of it as he continues.
Cage: You're strapped in by your lame uneducated words You're trapped by that half-dead blob you think is your brain. That head of yours is crushed from all sides by these lies you tell yourself, suffocating it so that no truth can get in. And when I flip the switch on you at Overdrive, Sabur, it will be all your sad, little perceptions that expire. The current that runs through your body this coming week will be the painful shock of a reality check.
You're a guy who talks like he's been in the game for many decades. You're a fluke who talks like he can hang with the big boys forever. And, like so many, you're a pissed off guy who seems to believe the hand he was dealt had to be worse than everyone else's. You seem to wallow in your memories, letting them grow in your own consciousness beyond the point of reason or reality. Whatever trials you have ever faced Sabur, are now gonna be eclipsed by "The Ego Of All Ego's" Carl Cage.
Stepping forward now, Cage leaves his vivid metaphor behind for a moment and gets up close and personal with the camera. A very sincere, almost cold, mood now overtakes him.
Cage: It is because I am of that sort, Sabur, that you are likely at some point to spout all your mistaken assumptions about me. I have money which I earnt. I am not a child of privilege. There were no silver spoons, fancy colleges, or advanced wrestling training. Our childhoods probably weren’t too different. But when it comes to the end products, my friend... the contrast is beyond words!
I am everything you are NOT Sabur. I am talented. I am exceptional. I am the kind of guy who fans hate because of jealousy. My mere presence steals the spotlight. When the night is over, people leave the arena with my name on their lips. I don't dwell on my upbringing or my roots unlike yourself, because it doesn't play a role in my current life, and especially not in are upcoming match. In fact, nothing about me really matters. All I have to do is show up.
You're worthless, Sabur! You don't have the body or the mind to succeed against me. And while you're chock-full of heart... that's the grossest mistake you'll ever made. And before you retort with some worn-out cliché like "you don't know me," then let me make it clear... I DO know you! We may be in different worlds of ability, but the core that drives you is not so far off from what once drove me.
When I started in this game, I was a fan pleaser because, at the time, I WAS just a big, walking vessel of happiness. I replaced my happiness WITH ANGER. I replayed my love of the game with the hate of my opponents. I stopped fighting for the sake of the people, and started fighting for the sake of the fight. I stepped outside of myself, maybe for the first time in my life, and became extrinsically motivated.
Carl stops, then casts a glance behind him to the electric chair. When he looks back ahead, that confident smirk has returned.
Cage: Something will die when we compete at Overdrive. That much is certain, and completely out of your hands. What it proves to be, though, IS something you can decide. In the wake of defeat, you can wallow some more in your misery and kill off whatever self-respect you have left. Or, you can let the upcoming beating serve as a lesson. You can free yourself of those ignorant perceptions.
You're stepping into the ring with a Legend in the making and a future Hall of Famer. Somewhere deep inside you, hidden in all the wreckage of your memories and jagged beliefs, is the knowledge that you can't win this match. You may of won last week at the PPV but that was with help from the other opponents in the match.
I may be flipping the killswitch on you, but part of you can still survive. Choose the right part, and you might have a future. Choose wrong... and this will only be first of many embarrassments.
With that, the scene fades out.
