Post by JZ on May 18, 2008 21:18:00 GMT -4
JZ is seen backstage in a dimly light room. There is a light bulb hanging from the middle of the room, and JZ is swatting it back and forth with his hand.
JZ: Doctor, doctor. You're quite a funny guy. That commercial you did about a new version of Operation was extremely creative, but I wasn't entertained. It wasn't funny to me. You see, my promos don't make sense to you, because you have a one track mind: you're a comedian, and comedians think of everything as a joke...well, I'm not a joke.
JZ slaps the light bulb some more
JZ: I have worked way too long and way too hard to be beaten in my first match by someone who can't even cut a wrestling promo, and instead uses incredibly bad photoshopped images on the titantron. Come on dude, masturbation jokes? Are you 12? I believe this is your first match here, but I'm not sure. If it is, then why would you hide behind some faux announcer and an incredibly lame/cheesy commercial, instead of explaining who you are and where you came from? It takes more guts to actually talk into the camera and put yourself out there, then it does to make a dumbass commercial. Yeah, and you claim I have no guts.
JZ starts to smack the light bulb even harder. It almost hits the ceiling. He lights up a cigarette and blows the smoke into the darkness of the room.
JZ: You're not a Doctor, you're a coward & a joke. You say my promos don't make sense, but at least I have them. At least I have a voice. All you have is an announcer and a bunch of kids to do your bidding. I am willing to stand here and tell you almost everything about me...I don't have some kind of troubled past, or anything like that, I'm just a kid from suburbia who worked his ass off as an amatuer wrestler, and then through the indies. This is not a game to me, this everything. To you though, everything is a game. Well, Doc, the games are over. The joke is dead. You won't have to sit and listen to my promos anymore. I'm sure they can change they channel for you while you're in your in the hospital.
JZ swings at the light bulb, and this time it shatters. He leaves the room in a huff.
JZ: Doctor, doctor. You're quite a funny guy. That commercial you did about a new version of Operation was extremely creative, but I wasn't entertained. It wasn't funny to me. You see, my promos don't make sense to you, because you have a one track mind: you're a comedian, and comedians think of everything as a joke...well, I'm not a joke.
JZ slaps the light bulb some more
JZ: I have worked way too long and way too hard to be beaten in my first match by someone who can't even cut a wrestling promo, and instead uses incredibly bad photoshopped images on the titantron. Come on dude, masturbation jokes? Are you 12? I believe this is your first match here, but I'm not sure. If it is, then why would you hide behind some faux announcer and an incredibly lame/cheesy commercial, instead of explaining who you are and where you came from? It takes more guts to actually talk into the camera and put yourself out there, then it does to make a dumbass commercial. Yeah, and you claim I have no guts.
JZ starts to smack the light bulb even harder. It almost hits the ceiling. He lights up a cigarette and blows the smoke into the darkness of the room.
JZ: You're not a Doctor, you're a coward & a joke. You say my promos don't make sense, but at least I have them. At least I have a voice. All you have is an announcer and a bunch of kids to do your bidding. I am willing to stand here and tell you almost everything about me...I don't have some kind of troubled past, or anything like that, I'm just a kid from suburbia who worked his ass off as an amatuer wrestler, and then through the indies. This is not a game to me, this everything. To you though, everything is a game. Well, Doc, the games are over. The joke is dead. You won't have to sit and listen to my promos anymore. I'm sure they can change they channel for you while you're in your in the hospital.
JZ swings at the light bulb, and this time it shatters. He leaves the room in a huff.
