Post by Phil Atken on Nov 19, 2011 10:33:49 GMT -4
We find Dr. Phil M. Atken (MD) sitting in his home office, headphones around his neck and leaning back against his reclining chair (the most fancy of all the chairs). He pivots around to face the camera and delivers a winning smile.
Atken: My mother once told me I was a very special boy. Of course these days she lets her cats piss on her leg so I've always questioned her judgement. Regardless, last Sunday proved her at least partially correct. Last Sunday proved that I can be a winner. Sure, it may have been a victory over an inept porn fiend who doesn't actually comprehend the world he lives in but it was a victory none the less.
Thanks to Trevor Jennings I can now put “Phil Atken: Winner” on all of my business cards. Actually I already have.
Phil produces a stack of what must be at least 500 business cards proclaiming himself as a winner.
Atken: I tell ya, these didn't come cheap. Well, actually they did. I know a guy. For you though? For you they wouldn't come cheap but you aren't a winner anyway are ya? You there, watching this in your underwear as you flip between the spank channels, you aren't a winner. I am. I am the winningest winner this side of winsville daddy-o.
…
I'm not really sure why I turned into a 1950s stereotype there but that's neither here nor there. What is there is Asylum, Sunday night in the esteemed nation of Canadia. Now I know all of my Canadish fans watching are just amped up to see me in the ring, I'm sure they'll have lines of babies they wish me to kiss, marriage certificates they'll try and trick me to sign and a third thing. Fine people of Canadia, I wish I was as excited to be there as you are to see me and it breaks my heart that I'm not but it's true. I just can't find myself getting excited. And not in that way you pervert.
Phil waggles his finger and the camera and tuts at the imaginary filthy naked man that only exists in his head.
Atken: I have a problem, I really do. I wish to continue to prove myself in APW and I mean that to the bottom of my enlarged heart. I wish to prove myself as a force to be reckoned with on the Asylum brand but how am I supposed to do that when my opponents the week are a drug fiend, an innumerate halfwit and a bloody rookie.
Honest to god, I'll be amazed if Adam Young actually finds his way to the bloody bloomin' arena on Sunday night. The man considers a crowd of 20,000 to be a bingo hall so I fully expect him to be standing outside the Skydome wondering where everyone is come show time.
I could say more about Adam Young but do I really need to? He's already looking past this match because he has a little crush on Jason Kashmoney. He's already established his focus is not where it should be. His eyes should be locked on me, Arcadia or indeed Thomas “The School of Hard” Knoxville, friends call him Tom. See, that's a formidable team and one that “The One” should be very afraid of. Sure, I have my problems with Arcadia and in my opinion she handed Pence Weatherlight the victory on a silver platter during our little tete-a-tete-a-tete-a-tete and so on at One Night in Hell but that isn't going to stop me from working alongside her for a scant evening.
The camera zooms in on Phil's notepad doodles, which mostly consist of the word “Arcadia” in love hearts next to pictures of giant dongs.
Atken: Knoxville is an unknown factor to me, we've never ran in the same circle, swam in the same pond or indeed danced on the same pole but I need to know I can trust him. We need to be compadres and not Dr. Dres. Whatever that may mean. It's just one night Thomas, let's be a dominant force. Let's me, you and the soft skinned lady be a wrecking crew. Let us join together to form a giant ball to knock down our opponents. After that, we go on our own paths, our own spirit journeys.
So yes, please underestimate me and my tagging mates Mr. Young but let me assure you, you can't have it all. You can't make a blind man see. Everything you wish you had, god give it all to me...
Hang on, that's not right. The point is, view us are mere dogs at your own peril because in my experience, dogs are vicious creatures when attacked. They scratch, they bite, they claw and they take you down. That's what my little dog pack is going to do. And then we're going to lick each others...
Phil stops himself from completing the sentence and stares blankly into a camera for a few moments.
Atken: I really need to filter my thoughts more.
Now if it were that we were only facing Adam Young then my work here would be done and I could go back to recording APW's newest hit podcast that at least two people have already told me is “listenable”, their words, not mine. However, it's not just Ade, we also have the aforementioned drug fiend and Nathaniel Havok's diamond in the rough, Chaz Dillinger.
Now JaMarcus Haze is a man I've figured out, he's a man who talks tough but really lacks that killer edge. He calls himself a “gangsta” but he's really just a little boy, lost in a world he doesn't understand. One week he's part of a mafia, one week he's a solo act. The truth is he just can't handle APW and he walks around like a lost toddler going from locker room to locker room. Don't worry though Slim, I can call mummy and daddy for you. Just go wait at the customer service desk. They'll take you home to your nice warm bed, I'm sure if you're a good boy on the way home you might even get a hot mug of coco. I've heard they've already washed Mr Fluffles, ready for your return home. Whatever that may mean.
I'd tell you what Phil was now doodling on his notepad but... you know what, you don't want to know. Trust me on this.
Atken: So we have two tough talkers who, to me, can't seem to back it up. They're defanged vampire puppies. However, they have a team mate who gives me a little cause for concern. Yes, in a round about way, I wish to talk about The Crypt Keeper, Chaz Dillinger.
Huh?
Oh.
I wish to talk about The Crippler, Doug Dillinger.
No?
Oh okay, got you.
I wish to talk about The Crippler, Chaz Dillinger. NAILED IT!
Phil fist pumps in celebration of managing to pronounce something correctly on his third attempt, much to the dismay of the camera crew and producers around him.
Atken: You see, although I can joke about Kaz being a rookie, the fact is as a rookie, he's an unknown. There's no footage to study, no weaknesses to analyse, no pressure points to pressurise. It's like he's a void and he could very well suck in everyone around him.
Now it'd be easy to dismiss a man like dear Dilly as a punk kid who oughtta learn a thing or two about a thing or two before he starts to think he can play with the big boys but only an idiot would think that. I, Philip M. Atken, am no idiot. So I'm worried. I'm perplexed. What do you do with a man you know nothing about?
“Smack him in the head with a wrech”, I hear you cry out. Sadly that's illegal.
“Kidnap his family”, you may say. Well that's illegal too. Also I don't see the point in it. Seriously, what's wrong with you?
No, you tag in your partners so they can find his weaknesses for you. After all this is an exercise in team work. I may not be a technical marvel but I know my cohorts know their away around a wristwatch. They will take you apart Chez, they will test you, they will make you prove you belong in an APW ring and I think, despite the backing of
Now sure, Arcadia and Tom, they may get eliminated taking you and your inept team mates down and I may have to pick up the pieces but we're a team and we'll win as a team. We are a wrecking ball! What you gonna do when the wrecking ball rolls around on you?
Probably go to the hospital for deep internal injuries.
Okay, so maybe the catchphrase needs some work.
Phil slides his headphones back on and begins to admire the doodle collection he amassed since the beginning of the interview.
Atken: My mother once told me I was a very special boy. Of course these days she lets her cats piss on her leg so I've always questioned her judgement. Regardless, last Sunday proved her at least partially correct. Last Sunday proved that I can be a winner. Sure, it may have been a victory over an inept porn fiend who doesn't actually comprehend the world he lives in but it was a victory none the less.
Thanks to Trevor Jennings I can now put “Phil Atken: Winner” on all of my business cards. Actually I already have.
Phil produces a stack of what must be at least 500 business cards proclaiming himself as a winner.
Atken: I tell ya, these didn't come cheap. Well, actually they did. I know a guy. For you though? For you they wouldn't come cheap but you aren't a winner anyway are ya? You there, watching this in your underwear as you flip between the spank channels, you aren't a winner. I am. I am the winningest winner this side of winsville daddy-o.
…
I'm not really sure why I turned into a 1950s stereotype there but that's neither here nor there. What is there is Asylum, Sunday night in the esteemed nation of Canadia. Now I know all of my Canadish fans watching are just amped up to see me in the ring, I'm sure they'll have lines of babies they wish me to kiss, marriage certificates they'll try and trick me to sign and a third thing. Fine people of Canadia, I wish I was as excited to be there as you are to see me and it breaks my heart that I'm not but it's true. I just can't find myself getting excited. And not in that way you pervert.
Phil waggles his finger and the camera and tuts at the imaginary filthy naked man that only exists in his head.
Atken: I have a problem, I really do. I wish to continue to prove myself in APW and I mean that to the bottom of my enlarged heart. I wish to prove myself as a force to be reckoned with on the Asylum brand but how am I supposed to do that when my opponents the week are a drug fiend, an innumerate halfwit and a bloody rookie.
Honest to god, I'll be amazed if Adam Young actually finds his way to the bloody bloomin' arena on Sunday night. The man considers a crowd of 20,000 to be a bingo hall so I fully expect him to be standing outside the Skydome wondering where everyone is come show time.
I could say more about Adam Young but do I really need to? He's already looking past this match because he has a little crush on Jason Kashmoney. He's already established his focus is not where it should be. His eyes should be locked on me, Arcadia or indeed Thomas “The School of Hard” Knoxville, friends call him Tom. See, that's a formidable team and one that “The One” should be very afraid of. Sure, I have my problems with Arcadia and in my opinion she handed Pence Weatherlight the victory on a silver platter during our little tete-a-tete-a-tete-a-tete and so on at One Night in Hell but that isn't going to stop me from working alongside her for a scant evening.
The camera zooms in on Phil's notepad doodles, which mostly consist of the word “Arcadia” in love hearts next to pictures of giant dongs.
Atken: Knoxville is an unknown factor to me, we've never ran in the same circle, swam in the same pond or indeed danced on the same pole but I need to know I can trust him. We need to be compadres and not Dr. Dres. Whatever that may mean. It's just one night Thomas, let's be a dominant force. Let's me, you and the soft skinned lady be a wrecking crew. Let us join together to form a giant ball to knock down our opponents. After that, we go on our own paths, our own spirit journeys.
So yes, please underestimate me and my tagging mates Mr. Young but let me assure you, you can't have it all. You can't make a blind man see. Everything you wish you had, god give it all to me...
Hang on, that's not right. The point is, view us are mere dogs at your own peril because in my experience, dogs are vicious creatures when attacked. They scratch, they bite, they claw and they take you down. That's what my little dog pack is going to do. And then we're going to lick each others...
Phil stops himself from completing the sentence and stares blankly into a camera for a few moments.
Atken: I really need to filter my thoughts more.
Now if it were that we were only facing Adam Young then my work here would be done and I could go back to recording APW's newest hit podcast that at least two people have already told me is “listenable”, their words, not mine. However, it's not just Ade, we also have the aforementioned drug fiend and Nathaniel Havok's diamond in the rough, Chaz Dillinger.
Now JaMarcus Haze is a man I've figured out, he's a man who talks tough but really lacks that killer edge. He calls himself a “gangsta” but he's really just a little boy, lost in a world he doesn't understand. One week he's part of a mafia, one week he's a solo act. The truth is he just can't handle APW and he walks around like a lost toddler going from locker room to locker room. Don't worry though Slim, I can call mummy and daddy for you. Just go wait at the customer service desk. They'll take you home to your nice warm bed, I'm sure if you're a good boy on the way home you might even get a hot mug of coco. I've heard they've already washed Mr Fluffles, ready for your return home. Whatever that may mean.
I'd tell you what Phil was now doodling on his notepad but... you know what, you don't want to know. Trust me on this.
Atken: So we have two tough talkers who, to me, can't seem to back it up. They're defanged vampire puppies. However, they have a team mate who gives me a little cause for concern. Yes, in a round about way, I wish to talk about The Crypt Keeper, Chaz Dillinger.
Huh?
Oh.
I wish to talk about The Crippler, Doug Dillinger.
No?
Oh okay, got you.
I wish to talk about The Crippler, Chaz Dillinger. NAILED IT!
Phil fist pumps in celebration of managing to pronounce something correctly on his third attempt, much to the dismay of the camera crew and producers around him.
Atken: You see, although I can joke about Kaz being a rookie, the fact is as a rookie, he's an unknown. There's no footage to study, no weaknesses to analyse, no pressure points to pressurise. It's like he's a void and he could very well suck in everyone around him.
Now it'd be easy to dismiss a man like dear Dilly as a punk kid who oughtta learn a thing or two about a thing or two before he starts to think he can play with the big boys but only an idiot would think that. I, Philip M. Atken, am no idiot. So I'm worried. I'm perplexed. What do you do with a man you know nothing about?
“Smack him in the head with a wrech”, I hear you cry out. Sadly that's illegal.
“Kidnap his family”, you may say. Well that's illegal too. Also I don't see the point in it. Seriously, what's wrong with you?
No, you tag in your partners so they can find his weaknesses for you. After all this is an exercise in team work. I may not be a technical marvel but I know my cohorts know their away around a wristwatch. They will take you apart Chez, they will test you, they will make you prove you belong in an APW ring and I think, despite the backing of
Now sure, Arcadia and Tom, they may get eliminated taking you and your inept team mates down and I may have to pick up the pieces but we're a team and we'll win as a team. We are a wrecking ball! What you gonna do when the wrecking ball rolls around on you?
Probably go to the hospital for deep internal injuries.
Okay, so maybe the catchphrase needs some work.
Phil slides his headphones back on and begins to admire the doodle collection he amassed since the beginning of the interview.
