Post by BDC on Jun 17, 2011 4:53:17 GMT -4
Overdrive had just gone off the air, and as much as it pained him to admit it, he was kind of impressed. APW had most definitely come a long way since its humble beginnings back in the day. It now boasted a high quality production value, APW merchandise and ticket sales brought in a high level of revenue, and the company competed against the other “big boys” without to many problems.
He stood up, and walked towards the display cabinet that housed the many trophies, titles and accolades that he had amassed over his extremely successful and illustrious career. He had been a part of many companies over the years, and he was well respected, albeit extremely loathed by every company owner he’d ever worked for. They put up with his crap though; they didn’t have much of a choice. BDC had the word “money” written all over him. He had the look, the skill, and the ego you needed to make it big in the world of sports entertainment. He loved to fight, and he could back his shit up each and every single time he stood in the ring.
The list of names that he could legitimately lay claim to defeating was impressive to say the least, but like people kept reminding him, that was then, this is now. All of his glory, all of his accomplishments, they meant nothing, not in APW, and most definitely no on Asylum.
Everybody looked at Asylum as the B show in APW. It was a fair assessment. Overdrive housed all of the major players, while Asylum took the rest. This was part of the reason why he had decided to sign up to Asylum in the first place. As much as he loathed admitting it, he wasn’t the man he used to be. Old age now played a factor, and there wasn’t much he could do about it, other than try his best to keep fighting it. If he was going down, he was going to go down fighting, and on his terms. The Asylum schedule was far lighter than the one for, Overdrive, and it also gave him a chance to find his feet again, to get used to competing at a high level.
Did this make him weak? He was sure that other people probably thought so, but he didn’t. There was no point jumping back into the deep end by signing to Overdrive, because there was no guarantee that he would have been able to keep up with the schedule, and in all honesty, he would have probably just up and left again, just for a quiet life. On the Asylum, he could sit back, and research the competition in a far more effective way. He could watch the goings on over on Overdrive, and decide bide his time until he was confident that he could make the switch to the A show, and dominate like he knew he could.
He’d always been a master of head games and strategy. It was common knowledge that he’d won most of his matches before even stepping foot into the ring, and he’d seen the look of despair and defeat on the faces of his opponents just before the bell rung on countless occasions.
BDC was the best wrestler in the world, plain and simple.
But, like Chris Cyrus and countless others had said, that was then, this was now.
“Guess I’d better change their minds then, hadn’t I”, said BDC out loud. He left the room, and walked towards a smaller study in his vast mansion. An APW backdrop was set up in here, and state of the art camera equipment faced it. BDC had amassed a massive fortune through the “BIG 1” enterprise over the years, and he always made sure that there was a promo area set up in his house at all times. Jeff was fine with this, as it saved him the expense of sending a film crew to film BDC’s promos. It wouldn’t have mattered to BDC even if it did piss Jeff off. Jeff owed him, and the day was coming when BDC would cash in what was owed.
The equipment was all set up to run at the touch of a single button, so BDC did so. He clicked his neck, straightened his bandana, and went to work.
BDC: Hello children, and welcome to another installation of “BDC talks, you shut your pie holes and listen”. Ok, that’s a shit title, but it’s the best I can think of on such short notice, so deal with it.
So, I’ve just finished catching up with the latest Overdrive tapings and promo shoots that the Overdrive guys have done, and as loathe as I am to admit it, it wasn’t bad, not bad at all. Ok, ok, you still have Sally and Lester stinking the place up to high heaven, but seeing as Jeff has a massive hard on for them both, that’s not going to end any time soon is it.
But that’s enough about Overdrive. Sure, one day I’ll be a part of it, and yes, I will dominate as only I can, but for now I’m content with being a part of the Asylum, and that means that I have my sights on the biggest prize on that show, that being the World Heavyweight Champion!
Oooh, just saying that out loud gives me chills down my spine! You see children, I have been a champion in every single company I’ve worked for, and so, it’s only fair that I become one again in APW. Now, if the APW management had any sense, they’d hand me the vacant title right here, right now, but they are far to short sighted and narrow minded for that to happen, so I guess I’ll just have to do things the old fashioned way and earn my spot. That’s ok though, it really is. Sure, I have to drag my old arse to the ring every other week to face idiots that aren’t fit enough to lace up my boots, but hey, on the plus side, I get to make people bleed and hopefully even break some skulls. Good times people, good times indeed!
So, speaking of idiots that aren’t in my league, let me tell you all what I think of a Mr. Chris Cyrus. Comfy children? Good!
Chris Cyrus, you are everything that’s wrong with the modern day world of sports entertainment. You are boring, repetitive, and ugly as fuck. For me, you have to have a certain X Factor to be in this business, but you kid, well you look like you haven’t seen the inside of a gym for years. And what’s with the promo shoots son? You do know that this is supposed to be entertainment right? We have a certain duty to make sure that people actually enjoy themselves when they pay for tickets, you are aware of that? Now, personally, my form of entertaining them is by beating the living snot out of my opponent, and making them hate me. I refuse to pander to their every whim, but even I’m not naïve to think that I am above the fans. The fans make or break us kid. Without them, there is no show, and with out a show, we don’t work, and without work, you are fucked. Me, I’ll be fine, I’m minted, but you kid, well, let’s just say that there’ll be another rent boy making a living getting buggered to high heaven day in and day out if you don’t start getting with the fucking real world, and start raising your game!
I mean, have you ever actually watched any of your promos, and I mean REALLY watched them? Dear god, it’s as if Rain Man and Forest Gump double teamed Rosie O’Donnell, and you were the fucking result of that shabonking! You are almost robotic with your delivery, and in all of my years in this business, I have NEVER seen someone with a complete and utter lack of anything that could ever be described as charisma – and I’ve seen Jesse Nunez!
You are a joke kid, and all people will ever do is laugh at your sad and pathetic ass. I mean, we’re half way through 2011, and the best that people lie you can ever do is to make fun of my wrestling name, seriously? This isn’t the school yard son, this is wrestling. In school, you’d get a detention for picking on someone, here, you get an ass whooping. Now, I’m going to try and refrain from banging on about how badly I’m going to batter you on Sunday, because in fairness, that would make me almost as lame as you, but as you can see kid, I have the capacity to change shit up. I could have waffled on about the same shit over, and over again, but you have to be creative when you do this kind of thing. In ring promos, backstage interviews, they may be the bread and butter of what we need to do to hype our matches, but they don’t have to be the same old stale bullshit. As you’ve noticed, I’ve ripped you a new arsehole during this promo, and judging by what I’ve seen and heard from you in the past, you simply won’t have a fucking clue how to respond. I can see it now, you’ll watch this promo, and just sit there and dribble. You’ll probably end up pissing your pants and soiling yourself to, but that’s ok, that’s what retards do. You see Cyrus, it’s not my fault that you have a dribbly chin, it’s not my fault that you need a carer to help you through your day to day life, it’s not my life that you’re a fucking downie, and it’s not my fault that Jeff and Reginald put you in a situation that you are ill equipped to deal with.
You are an obstacle that needs to be dealt with, it really is that simple. I am gonna fuck you up boy, and I won’t lose a seconds sleep over it. Ok, ok, I said I was going to refrain from banging on about how I was going to batter you, but I’ve only done it the once.
You stutter on about the fact that you don’t think I have the desire, drive and heart to succeed here in the Asylum, and bang on about how you refuse to let me take your spot, but how in the blue hell do you actually intend on doing that? Look at yourself kid, look at the tools at your disposal, and then take a look at what I bring to the table. I’m nearly 7 foot tall. My fists are almost as big as your head. I am a veteran in this industry, and I can beat you in an almost infinite number of ways. It’s not rocket science boy, its fact.
Everything I do is geared towards one thing, efficiency.
Everything I do is effective.
Every time you try to change shit up, I have an answer to it.
Do yourself a favour kid, stay at home Sunday night. No one will think less of you. Actually, no, turn up, because at least then people will actually think of you at all.
See you soon kid.
He walks over to the control console and switches off the record button. He checks to make sure it’s recorded. Happy that everything is in order, he turns the light off, and leaves the room. Sunday can’t come quickly enough. It’s been to long, far to long.
He stood up, and walked towards the display cabinet that housed the many trophies, titles and accolades that he had amassed over his extremely successful and illustrious career. He had been a part of many companies over the years, and he was well respected, albeit extremely loathed by every company owner he’d ever worked for. They put up with his crap though; they didn’t have much of a choice. BDC had the word “money” written all over him. He had the look, the skill, and the ego you needed to make it big in the world of sports entertainment. He loved to fight, and he could back his shit up each and every single time he stood in the ring.
The list of names that he could legitimately lay claim to defeating was impressive to say the least, but like people kept reminding him, that was then, this is now. All of his glory, all of his accomplishments, they meant nothing, not in APW, and most definitely no on Asylum.
Everybody looked at Asylum as the B show in APW. It was a fair assessment. Overdrive housed all of the major players, while Asylum took the rest. This was part of the reason why he had decided to sign up to Asylum in the first place. As much as he loathed admitting it, he wasn’t the man he used to be. Old age now played a factor, and there wasn’t much he could do about it, other than try his best to keep fighting it. If he was going down, he was going to go down fighting, and on his terms. The Asylum schedule was far lighter than the one for, Overdrive, and it also gave him a chance to find his feet again, to get used to competing at a high level.
Did this make him weak? He was sure that other people probably thought so, but he didn’t. There was no point jumping back into the deep end by signing to Overdrive, because there was no guarantee that he would have been able to keep up with the schedule, and in all honesty, he would have probably just up and left again, just for a quiet life. On the Asylum, he could sit back, and research the competition in a far more effective way. He could watch the goings on over on Overdrive, and decide bide his time until he was confident that he could make the switch to the A show, and dominate like he knew he could.
He’d always been a master of head games and strategy. It was common knowledge that he’d won most of his matches before even stepping foot into the ring, and he’d seen the look of despair and defeat on the faces of his opponents just before the bell rung on countless occasions.
BDC was the best wrestler in the world, plain and simple.
But, like Chris Cyrus and countless others had said, that was then, this was now.
“Guess I’d better change their minds then, hadn’t I”, said BDC out loud. He left the room, and walked towards a smaller study in his vast mansion. An APW backdrop was set up in here, and state of the art camera equipment faced it. BDC had amassed a massive fortune through the “BIG 1” enterprise over the years, and he always made sure that there was a promo area set up in his house at all times. Jeff was fine with this, as it saved him the expense of sending a film crew to film BDC’s promos. It wouldn’t have mattered to BDC even if it did piss Jeff off. Jeff owed him, and the day was coming when BDC would cash in what was owed.
The equipment was all set up to run at the touch of a single button, so BDC did so. He clicked his neck, straightened his bandana, and went to work.
BDC: Hello children, and welcome to another installation of “BDC talks, you shut your pie holes and listen”. Ok, that’s a shit title, but it’s the best I can think of on such short notice, so deal with it.
So, I’ve just finished catching up with the latest Overdrive tapings and promo shoots that the Overdrive guys have done, and as loathe as I am to admit it, it wasn’t bad, not bad at all. Ok, ok, you still have Sally and Lester stinking the place up to high heaven, but seeing as Jeff has a massive hard on for them both, that’s not going to end any time soon is it.
But that’s enough about Overdrive. Sure, one day I’ll be a part of it, and yes, I will dominate as only I can, but for now I’m content with being a part of the Asylum, and that means that I have my sights on the biggest prize on that show, that being the World Heavyweight Champion!
Oooh, just saying that out loud gives me chills down my spine! You see children, I have been a champion in every single company I’ve worked for, and so, it’s only fair that I become one again in APW. Now, if the APW management had any sense, they’d hand me the vacant title right here, right now, but they are far to short sighted and narrow minded for that to happen, so I guess I’ll just have to do things the old fashioned way and earn my spot. That’s ok though, it really is. Sure, I have to drag my old arse to the ring every other week to face idiots that aren’t fit enough to lace up my boots, but hey, on the plus side, I get to make people bleed and hopefully even break some skulls. Good times people, good times indeed!
So, speaking of idiots that aren’t in my league, let me tell you all what I think of a Mr. Chris Cyrus. Comfy children? Good!
Chris Cyrus, you are everything that’s wrong with the modern day world of sports entertainment. You are boring, repetitive, and ugly as fuck. For me, you have to have a certain X Factor to be in this business, but you kid, well you look like you haven’t seen the inside of a gym for years. And what’s with the promo shoots son? You do know that this is supposed to be entertainment right? We have a certain duty to make sure that people actually enjoy themselves when they pay for tickets, you are aware of that? Now, personally, my form of entertaining them is by beating the living snot out of my opponent, and making them hate me. I refuse to pander to their every whim, but even I’m not naïve to think that I am above the fans. The fans make or break us kid. Without them, there is no show, and with out a show, we don’t work, and without work, you are fucked. Me, I’ll be fine, I’m minted, but you kid, well, let’s just say that there’ll be another rent boy making a living getting buggered to high heaven day in and day out if you don’t start getting with the fucking real world, and start raising your game!
I mean, have you ever actually watched any of your promos, and I mean REALLY watched them? Dear god, it’s as if Rain Man and Forest Gump double teamed Rosie O’Donnell, and you were the fucking result of that shabonking! You are almost robotic with your delivery, and in all of my years in this business, I have NEVER seen someone with a complete and utter lack of anything that could ever be described as charisma – and I’ve seen Jesse Nunez!
You are a joke kid, and all people will ever do is laugh at your sad and pathetic ass. I mean, we’re half way through 2011, and the best that people lie you can ever do is to make fun of my wrestling name, seriously? This isn’t the school yard son, this is wrestling. In school, you’d get a detention for picking on someone, here, you get an ass whooping. Now, I’m going to try and refrain from banging on about how badly I’m going to batter you on Sunday, because in fairness, that would make me almost as lame as you, but as you can see kid, I have the capacity to change shit up. I could have waffled on about the same shit over, and over again, but you have to be creative when you do this kind of thing. In ring promos, backstage interviews, they may be the bread and butter of what we need to do to hype our matches, but they don’t have to be the same old stale bullshit. As you’ve noticed, I’ve ripped you a new arsehole during this promo, and judging by what I’ve seen and heard from you in the past, you simply won’t have a fucking clue how to respond. I can see it now, you’ll watch this promo, and just sit there and dribble. You’ll probably end up pissing your pants and soiling yourself to, but that’s ok, that’s what retards do. You see Cyrus, it’s not my fault that you have a dribbly chin, it’s not my fault that you need a carer to help you through your day to day life, it’s not my life that you’re a fucking downie, and it’s not my fault that Jeff and Reginald put you in a situation that you are ill equipped to deal with.
You are an obstacle that needs to be dealt with, it really is that simple. I am gonna fuck you up boy, and I won’t lose a seconds sleep over it. Ok, ok, I said I was going to refrain from banging on about how I was going to batter you, but I’ve only done it the once.
You stutter on about the fact that you don’t think I have the desire, drive and heart to succeed here in the Asylum, and bang on about how you refuse to let me take your spot, but how in the blue hell do you actually intend on doing that? Look at yourself kid, look at the tools at your disposal, and then take a look at what I bring to the table. I’m nearly 7 foot tall. My fists are almost as big as your head. I am a veteran in this industry, and I can beat you in an almost infinite number of ways. It’s not rocket science boy, its fact.
Everything I do is geared towards one thing, efficiency.
Everything I do is effective.
Every time you try to change shit up, I have an answer to it.
Do yourself a favour kid, stay at home Sunday night. No one will think less of you. Actually, no, turn up, because at least then people will actually think of you at all.
See you soon kid.
He walks over to the control console and switches off the record button. He checks to make sure it’s recorded. Happy that everything is in order, he turns the light off, and leaves the room. Sunday can’t come quickly enough. It’s been to long, far to long.
