Post by Jules on Dec 14, 2011 20:33:16 GMT -4
Forthcoming only on pay-per-view, the debut of the only quintessentially English wrestler in the history of APW. You don’t think that is a big deal? Then are either a) have no taste; b) have no taste; or c) have no taste.
This week said wrestler, Julius Farquhar in name, set down some of his thoughts on his upcoming flag match against Zachary Rodell. Said wrestler, Julius Farquhar in name, highlighted five reasons why he cannot be beaten at Christmas Chaos.
Warning! If you are not viewing this promo with all of the following a) a cup of English tea; b) a creamed scone; c) a pocket watch; d) a tailored waistcoat; e) quiffed hair; then you are probably not viewing it properly.
I’ve heard it said that Christmas Chaos will be APW’s biggest show of the year bar none. I’ve heard it said that it marks the start of a new era along with a new year; a new era in which the old guard slowly slips into the background or out of circulation and a new breed of champion comes to the fore. I’ve heard it said that careers will be made or lost at Christmas Chaos; I’ve heard it said that Christmas Chaos has an undercard that shines with the light of future champions.
Well I don’t go in for that marketing hype; being quintessentially English I deal only in facts.
Now, one such fact is that the biggest match of the night, the most eagerly anticipated match of the night doesn’t involve a 60-minute snore-fest, or a steel cage match (lock them in and never let them out I say), or a match between three guys, one of which probably doesn’t know his own name half the time, and other two have names hardly worth remembering; no the match that is going to raise the buy-rate on this one is the first ever APW flag match.
The reason it’s going to be a knockout; well there is only one reason: me! Julius Farquhar....you know the catchphrase, don’t wear it out (that’s my job!).
I’ve also heard it said that this is a big night for Zachary Rodell. Here we have some lower card gymnast, who does a couple of tricks here and there, gets a couple of pops from those mutants we call the audience, but beyond that little else. You see I’ve been wondering about Zachary Rodell, and I’ve done by my research, and all I can find is a start date and a payroll number. In God knows how many months this kid has been picking up pay cheques and not a lot else.
In five weeks I’ve become the must-see personality in the APW. Rumour has it C.J. Biggs, or whatever his name is, wants me in the main event just to get somebody, anybody, to watch him. Never mind Mr. Quintessentially English, they should be calling me Mr. Sell-out around here.
This is a big night for Zachary Rodell because finally somebody has noticed him. Admittedly, they’ve only noticed him through me, but that’s beside the point I suppose. How does the phrase go “the only news worse than bad news is no news at all” – hmmm, I wonder how Zachary might render that one if we transpose ‘news’ for ‘beating’?
Listen, I came to APW to bring a new message, a new way of life. Not the kind of phony self-serving rhetoric passed off as revolutionary by Micky Jennings, but a truly transformative philosophy that makes people better people, and gives you the weapons with which to act ‘holier-than-thou’ with the non-initiated: the Quintessentially English Revolution.
So I went about my business, spreading my message and making myself known, and at the same time turning Overdrive into the most watched television show in Windsor, England (and that is no small feat!). I’m making the world a better place and then Zachary Rodell appears; an abject loser who, in the holiday spirit, decides he wants to turns himself from a Z-Ro-ho-ho-ho to a He-Ro-ho-ho-ho. Now where I come from and the way I was raised, you just don’t interrupt a person when they are delivering the most interesting show within a show in the history of television; it’s just not the quintessentially English way. In England we queue, we put our hand up and wait politely, even if nobody is taking the slightest bit of notice.
So Zachary comes out, chest all puffed up, cap turned backwards, just as I’m discussing the finer points of making the perfect cup of tea, which, I’ll have you know, is no light-hearted matter. I have to admit at first I thought he was a nipper who just wanted to learn how to make tea for his gentle old granny, but then he starts going crazy, spilling tea leaves and hot water all over the place; what a carry on!
But that is all in the past, and we are a long way past the stage of a simple apology. I offered Zachary the chance: the following week I invited him to the ring so that he could apologise to me and to all the fans of APW for ruining what would have been the highlight of their week. He could have done the gentlemanly thing, but instead, like the pusillanimous scoundrel that he is, he sends one of his goons. Well we all know what happened to that chump. Behind every uptight, public school educated Englishman is his muscular and powerful manservant. Don’t you ever forget that!
I honestly do not know what Zachary’s problem is. I’ve heard him say he wants to make an impact here in APW, well if you needed some tips on how to be a better wrestler and a better person all you had to do was knock on my door. I don’t think you are quintessentially English material, but I certainly could have helped you and offered some advice that would have made you a little less pathetic. What really grates at my nerves is that this scoundrel thought he could take liberties with me. Well at Christmas Chaos I am going to show this boy as much respect as he deserves. I’m going to introduce my entire arsenal and when he is lying in the middle of that arena, everyone laughing at how ridiculous he will look, I will raise the English flag and show him the way. And when I’m done with Zachary I’m going to salute my victory with a freshly brewed pot of tea; heck I might even take my celebrations to the wild side and put the milk in first.
Now I’ve also heard it said that I can’t beat Zachary Rodell at Christmas Chaos. I’ve heard it said that for the past three weeks Zachary has got the better of me; I’ve heard it said that Zachary has all of the momentum, and he even got a win over me on the last Overdrive of the year, albeit in a tag match.
Well I’ve heard it all of this and I don’t take a blind bit of notice. Any scoundrel can ambush a guy from behind when he is not looking or is pre-occupied with the important matter of proving himself to be the only wrestler worth watching. It’s so easy that every cheap shot artist in the locker room has already tried doing it to me, and so far its cost me. But when it comes to a one on one confrontation Zachary Rodell stands no chance. As you know I am a man who is only concerned with the facts, never using any sort of misdirection or stooping to the low level of using hyperbole to make false or exaggerated claims, and the fact of the matter is that Zachary Rodell has not once got the better of me in a one on one confrontation. Every single time he has attacked either by surprise or from behind. When I’ve given him the chance to come and stand face to face with me he cannot do it; he’s either hiding behind that disreputable woman of his or he’s plotting and scheming with some lowly member of the locker room. But you all know I would never do such a thing, being the most admirable, virtuous and upstanding member of the roster (it’s the quintessentially English way).
Now the question you all have on your lips is an obvious one: why do you set yourself apart in this way? It’s a fair question. I could act just like every other dirty trick playing vagabond who has ever signed a contract in this seedy company, but that’s not my way; it’s the corrupt American way, not the quintessentially English way. I didn’t come to APW to play the same dirty tricks as everyone else, doing whatever it takes to get ahead and make it to the top. No, I’m going to make it to the top, but I’m going to be the first man to do it with honour and valour. The English empire became the most powerful political and military institution mankind has ever seen through pure valour and honour, in the same manner will I ascend the APW ladder, and when I’ve made it to the top everybody will have a true role model to look up to.
So let this Sunday be a marker of greater things to come. When the cross of St. George is flying high at Christmas Chaos it will be a day that marks a new era in APW history, an era of fortitude, iron will, moral rectitude and the domination of all that is quintessentially English.
As promised, the five reasons why Julius Farquhar will be unbeatable at Christmas Chaos.
Now I could sit here and run through the history of England. Irrespective of any wrestling relevance, its intrinsic value would be the education itself, since I know how you Americans love to bury your heads in the sand when it comes to history that does not pertain strictly to this land. It would be a marvellous tale and one that has a little something for everyone: a little drama; no shortage of war, blood, visceral matter and whatnot; some frisky rough tumble beneath the royal sheets; a fair bit of scandal and skulduggery; but the overwhelming theme would be success – the success of the English nation.
Now I am no member of the English defence league, after all my quintessentially English virtues extend also to tolerance (notice the stress on that word!), but I certainly believe in the enduring strength of the English spirit. It is the spirit that drove out of Europe the many tyrants who have tried to conquer all and sundry; even today it fights belligerently against the administrative dictator the European Union (the only Union I’m concerned with is one which entails subservience to England). Whenever America attains at or even achieves something great (I have that list comprising half a sheet of paper in my pocket) it is probably due to that little bit of English left coursing through your veins.
But what is my point, I hear you ask. Well it is quite simple, and I will share with you a law of logic – Englishness = perfection. The philosopher Leibniz, it was a shame he was German, called this the law of the identity of indiscernibles and it says if two objects a and b[/b] are identical they are the same object; it is a basic logical law, along with the law of non-contradiction, which underpins much of the basic algebra you probably didn’t learn at school. But I hear you louder now: what, Julius, is your point? My point is thus: wherever you find some semblance of Englishness, you find some semblance of perfection – they are identical. Now consider the quintessentially English, factor it, and alas you have solved the equation.
Now I understand such theoretical ruminations are like a wisp of hair in a tornado in a locker room full of muscle heads, so allow me to elaborate. The question is: what is the quintessentially English, and how does it equate to perfection? I’ve shown you the bones, now allow me to feed you the meat.
In time past I gave a highly informative and stimulating lecture of the marks of the quintessentially English, and now I shall do what not even one self-help sage lining the pavements of The Strand can even begin to do – practical application of principles.
Article one: my pocketwatch. A quintessential item if ever there was one. Not just a pocketwatch, but a pocketwatch of infinite perfection. A pocketwatch that guarantees I reach my destination at the perfect time. It means I am perfectly punctual at every time; which means I am perfectly toned, perfectly conditioned, perfectly massaged by my Manservant; perfectly ready for all occasions.
Article two: English tea. I cannot labour long enough to convince you of the power of this wonderful dried leaf. It is scientifically proven to increase performance by 28.7821%; it stimulates concentration; improves water retention and thereby maintains muscle mass. On top of that it gives one a dignified air of sophistication. In the wrestling world that is no small matter.
Article three: waistcoat. The perfect conditioning tool. I always have my waistcoats tailor-made to ensure maximal tightness. How else do I get such a spiffingly good abdomen?
Article four: Quiff-styled hair. When you are faced with a foe you want to have all of your attention focussed on defeating that foe. Loose strands of hair are hardly going to aide that now, are they? With a perfectly styled and set quiff you will never have to worry about your distracting you in the ring. Plus, it looks so debonair, which is 19.464236% proven to improve your quintessentialness – infinite perfection is reached one small step at a time.
So there you have it. Reason 1 concluded. You just can’t argue with facts like these.[/color]
One of the great things about being English, and being aristocratic, is being educated by the English public school system. Did I tell you I was educated at Eton? One of the virtues of a good public school education is all that male camaraderie. After lessons all of us boys are allowed to get together and indulge in some good old-fashioned public school frolicking. Imagine it, a group of adolescent, hormone-fuelled, testosterone-charged teenage boys rolling around a one big pile, touching, grabbing, groping and feeling each other, and usually as part of a game that has absolutely no point whatsoever other than to get young boys touching each other up. And why not? It’s tradition, and no-one can argue with tradition.
Now, when I was a mere schoolboy I was chief ‘flag-pole’ boy. Most of my time I spent pulling the flag on people’s poles. There was never a pole too large or long that I couldn’t tackle, and I’m pretty certain I got every single one to full mast. It’s another reason why Zachary Rodell cannot beat me at Christmas Chaos – I doubt he has had as much experience pulling on flag pole as I have.
Let me ask you a question: who is the man who came in to APW and made an immediate impact, and who is the man who has been in APW for months scratching a living together from house shows and the odd television appearance? I know the answer to both questions, do you?
The fact is I have made as big an impact in a debut month as anyone probably ever has in APW. Within two weeks I was given my own show within a show, and it was probably the greatest vignette that has ever been produced by APW television. My friends in the business inform me that tea sales up are 0.6% in the USA since I arrived in APW, and Amazon US has sold every copy of my ‘How To Become Quintessentially English In Just Five Steps’. How many books has Zachary Rodell sold? How many hot beverages has Zachary given to the world? You just can’t argue with facts like these.
Whether the fans want to love me or they want to hate, and most of them love me – did you hear the way they chanted my name on Overdrive – not yours Zachary, but mine! – As I was saying, because they love me they want to see me. I’ve been told since I joined APW Overdrive has become the most watched show in Windsor, England. My t-shirt is the fast-selling t-shirt in Windsor, England. My face is the most recognised face in Windsor, England. You just can’t argue with facts like these.
Part of the build to what is surely going to be a show-stealing match, and about 99.9% caused by my simply being present in the ring, is the introduction of what I like to call two ‘independent variables’.
In Zachary’s case we have some powder puff woman of ill-repute taking on the role of the ‘independent variable’. It seems that sulking miscreant was having a little trouble getting himself up for the events; but that’s nothing a few calls doesn’t fix. So along pops Michelle Bishop and suddenly Zachary has turned into Popeye the Sailor Man; he’s achieving all sorts of feats like actually looking like he deserves to be in the ring, and even pulling off the odd fluke win. I’ve heard it said that nothing motivates a man like the affection of a woman (of loose virtue), not that I go in for that sort of thing. I’m much too aristocratic for that sort of thing.
Now I introduce to you my ‘independent variable’ – the Manservant. He is over 300lbs of hulking muscle, carnivorous rage, throbbing strength, and animalistic brutality. I keep him locked in a cage most of the day and we he gets out he is relentless. Well this week I’m keeping locked up and I’m feeding him on pictures of you Zachary. Remember it is no disqualification and this monster of mine has his mind set on a feeding frenzy – he’ll probably eat that waif of yours too.
So the two ‘independent variables’ set to affect the outcome of our match – I know which one I’m counting on.
Did I mention that I am quintessentially English? Therefore, by extension, the most interesting and the most fearsome opponent in professional wrestling today.
You just can’t argue with facts like these.
This week said wrestler, Julius Farquhar in name, set down some of his thoughts on his upcoming flag match against Zachary Rodell. Said wrestler, Julius Farquhar in name, highlighted five reasons why he cannot be beaten at Christmas Chaos.
Warning! If you are not viewing this promo with all of the following a) a cup of English tea; b) a creamed scone; c) a pocket watch; d) a tailored waistcoat; e) quiffed hair; then you are probably not viewing it properly.
The Quintessentially English Promo
I’ve heard it said that Christmas Chaos will be APW’s biggest show of the year bar none. I’ve heard it said that it marks the start of a new era along with a new year; a new era in which the old guard slowly slips into the background or out of circulation and a new breed of champion comes to the fore. I’ve heard it said that careers will be made or lost at Christmas Chaos; I’ve heard it said that Christmas Chaos has an undercard that shines with the light of future champions.
Well I don’t go in for that marketing hype; being quintessentially English I deal only in facts.
Now, one such fact is that the biggest match of the night, the most eagerly anticipated match of the night doesn’t involve a 60-minute snore-fest, or a steel cage match (lock them in and never let them out I say), or a match between three guys, one of which probably doesn’t know his own name half the time, and other two have names hardly worth remembering; no the match that is going to raise the buy-rate on this one is the first ever APW flag match.
The reason it’s going to be a knockout; well there is only one reason: me! Julius Farquhar....you know the catchphrase, don’t wear it out (that’s my job!).
I’ve also heard it said that this is a big night for Zachary Rodell. Here we have some lower card gymnast, who does a couple of tricks here and there, gets a couple of pops from those mutants we call the audience, but beyond that little else. You see I’ve been wondering about Zachary Rodell, and I’ve done by my research, and all I can find is a start date and a payroll number. In God knows how many months this kid has been picking up pay cheques and not a lot else.
In five weeks I’ve become the must-see personality in the APW. Rumour has it C.J. Biggs, or whatever his name is, wants me in the main event just to get somebody, anybody, to watch him. Never mind Mr. Quintessentially English, they should be calling me Mr. Sell-out around here.
This is a big night for Zachary Rodell because finally somebody has noticed him. Admittedly, they’ve only noticed him through me, but that’s beside the point I suppose. How does the phrase go “the only news worse than bad news is no news at all” – hmmm, I wonder how Zachary might render that one if we transpose ‘news’ for ‘beating’?
Listen, I came to APW to bring a new message, a new way of life. Not the kind of phony self-serving rhetoric passed off as revolutionary by Micky Jennings, but a truly transformative philosophy that makes people better people, and gives you the weapons with which to act ‘holier-than-thou’ with the non-initiated: the Quintessentially English Revolution.
So I went about my business, spreading my message and making myself known, and at the same time turning Overdrive into the most watched television show in Windsor, England (and that is no small feat!). I’m making the world a better place and then Zachary Rodell appears; an abject loser who, in the holiday spirit, decides he wants to turns himself from a Z-Ro-ho-ho-ho to a He-Ro-ho-ho-ho. Now where I come from and the way I was raised, you just don’t interrupt a person when they are delivering the most interesting show within a show in the history of television; it’s just not the quintessentially English way. In England we queue, we put our hand up and wait politely, even if nobody is taking the slightest bit of notice.
So Zachary comes out, chest all puffed up, cap turned backwards, just as I’m discussing the finer points of making the perfect cup of tea, which, I’ll have you know, is no light-hearted matter. I have to admit at first I thought he was a nipper who just wanted to learn how to make tea for his gentle old granny, but then he starts going crazy, spilling tea leaves and hot water all over the place; what a carry on!
But that is all in the past, and we are a long way past the stage of a simple apology. I offered Zachary the chance: the following week I invited him to the ring so that he could apologise to me and to all the fans of APW for ruining what would have been the highlight of their week. He could have done the gentlemanly thing, but instead, like the pusillanimous scoundrel that he is, he sends one of his goons. Well we all know what happened to that chump. Behind every uptight, public school educated Englishman is his muscular and powerful manservant. Don’t you ever forget that!
I honestly do not know what Zachary’s problem is. I’ve heard him say he wants to make an impact here in APW, well if you needed some tips on how to be a better wrestler and a better person all you had to do was knock on my door. I don’t think you are quintessentially English material, but I certainly could have helped you and offered some advice that would have made you a little less pathetic. What really grates at my nerves is that this scoundrel thought he could take liberties with me. Well at Christmas Chaos I am going to show this boy as much respect as he deserves. I’m going to introduce my entire arsenal and when he is lying in the middle of that arena, everyone laughing at how ridiculous he will look, I will raise the English flag and show him the way. And when I’m done with Zachary I’m going to salute my victory with a freshly brewed pot of tea; heck I might even take my celebrations to the wild side and put the milk in first.
Now I’ve also heard it said that I can’t beat Zachary Rodell at Christmas Chaos. I’ve heard it said that for the past three weeks Zachary has got the better of me; I’ve heard it said that Zachary has all of the momentum, and he even got a win over me on the last Overdrive of the year, albeit in a tag match.
Well I’ve heard it all of this and I don’t take a blind bit of notice. Any scoundrel can ambush a guy from behind when he is not looking or is pre-occupied with the important matter of proving himself to be the only wrestler worth watching. It’s so easy that every cheap shot artist in the locker room has already tried doing it to me, and so far its cost me. But when it comes to a one on one confrontation Zachary Rodell stands no chance. As you know I am a man who is only concerned with the facts, never using any sort of misdirection or stooping to the low level of using hyperbole to make false or exaggerated claims, and the fact of the matter is that Zachary Rodell has not once got the better of me in a one on one confrontation. Every single time he has attacked either by surprise or from behind. When I’ve given him the chance to come and stand face to face with me he cannot do it; he’s either hiding behind that disreputable woman of his or he’s plotting and scheming with some lowly member of the locker room. But you all know I would never do such a thing, being the most admirable, virtuous and upstanding member of the roster (it’s the quintessentially English way).
Now the question you all have on your lips is an obvious one: why do you set yourself apart in this way? It’s a fair question. I could act just like every other dirty trick playing vagabond who has ever signed a contract in this seedy company, but that’s not my way; it’s the corrupt American way, not the quintessentially English way. I didn’t come to APW to play the same dirty tricks as everyone else, doing whatever it takes to get ahead and make it to the top. No, I’m going to make it to the top, but I’m going to be the first man to do it with honour and valour. The English empire became the most powerful political and military institution mankind has ever seen through pure valour and honour, in the same manner will I ascend the APW ladder, and when I’ve made it to the top everybody will have a true role model to look up to.
So let this Sunday be a marker of greater things to come. When the cross of St. George is flying high at Christmas Chaos it will be a day that marks a new era in APW history, an era of fortitude, iron will, moral rectitude and the domination of all that is quintessentially English.
*
As promised, the five reasons why Julius Farquhar will be unbeatable at Christmas Chaos.
Reason 1
The Nature of Being Quintessential
The Nature of Being Quintessential
Now I could sit here and run through the history of England. Irrespective of any wrestling relevance, its intrinsic value would be the education itself, since I know how you Americans love to bury your heads in the sand when it comes to history that does not pertain strictly to this land. It would be a marvellous tale and one that has a little something for everyone: a little drama; no shortage of war, blood, visceral matter and whatnot; some frisky rough tumble beneath the royal sheets; a fair bit of scandal and skulduggery; but the overwhelming theme would be success – the success of the English nation.
Now I am no member of the English defence league, after all my quintessentially English virtues extend also to tolerance (notice the stress on that word!), but I certainly believe in the enduring strength of the English spirit. It is the spirit that drove out of Europe the many tyrants who have tried to conquer all and sundry; even today it fights belligerently against the administrative dictator the European Union (the only Union I’m concerned with is one which entails subservience to England). Whenever America attains at or even achieves something great (I have that list comprising half a sheet of paper in my pocket) it is probably due to that little bit of English left coursing through your veins.
But what is my point, I hear you ask. Well it is quite simple, and I will share with you a law of logic – Englishness = perfection. The philosopher Leibniz, it was a shame he was German, called this the law of the identity of indiscernibles and it says if two objects a and b[/b] are identical they are the same object; it is a basic logical law, along with the law of non-contradiction, which underpins much of the basic algebra you probably didn’t learn at school. But I hear you louder now: what, Julius, is your point? My point is thus: wherever you find some semblance of Englishness, you find some semblance of perfection – they are identical. Now consider the quintessentially English, factor it, and alas you have solved the equation.
Now I understand such theoretical ruminations are like a wisp of hair in a tornado in a locker room full of muscle heads, so allow me to elaborate. The question is: what is the quintessentially English, and how does it equate to perfection? I’ve shown you the bones, now allow me to feed you the meat.
In time past I gave a highly informative and stimulating lecture of the marks of the quintessentially English, and now I shall do what not even one self-help sage lining the pavements of The Strand can even begin to do – practical application of principles.
Article one: my pocketwatch. A quintessential item if ever there was one. Not just a pocketwatch, but a pocketwatch of infinite perfection. A pocketwatch that guarantees I reach my destination at the perfect time. It means I am perfectly punctual at every time; which means I am perfectly toned, perfectly conditioned, perfectly massaged by my Manservant; perfectly ready for all occasions.
Article two: English tea. I cannot labour long enough to convince you of the power of this wonderful dried leaf. It is scientifically proven to increase performance by 28.7821%; it stimulates concentration; improves water retention and thereby maintains muscle mass. On top of that it gives one a dignified air of sophistication. In the wrestling world that is no small matter.
Article three: waistcoat. The perfect conditioning tool. I always have my waistcoats tailor-made to ensure maximal tightness. How else do I get such a spiffingly good abdomen?
Article four: Quiff-styled hair. When you are faced with a foe you want to have all of your attention focussed on defeating that foe. Loose strands of hair are hardly going to aide that now, are they? With a perfectly styled and set quiff you will never have to worry about your distracting you in the ring. Plus, it looks so debonair, which is 19.464236% proven to improve your quintessentialness – infinite perfection is reached one small step at a time.
So there you have it. Reason 1 concluded. You just can’t argue with facts like these.[/color]
Reason 2
Flag-pole
Flag-pole
One of the great things about being English, and being aristocratic, is being educated by the English public school system. Did I tell you I was educated at Eton? One of the virtues of a good public school education is all that male camaraderie. After lessons all of us boys are allowed to get together and indulge in some good old-fashioned public school frolicking. Imagine it, a group of adolescent, hormone-fuelled, testosterone-charged teenage boys rolling around a one big pile, touching, grabbing, groping and feeling each other, and usually as part of a game that has absolutely no point whatsoever other than to get young boys touching each other up. And why not? It’s tradition, and no-one can argue with tradition.
Now, when I was a mere schoolboy I was chief ‘flag-pole’ boy. Most of my time I spent pulling the flag on people’s poles. There was never a pole too large or long that I couldn’t tackle, and I’m pretty certain I got every single one to full mast. It’s another reason why Zachary Rodell cannot beat me at Christmas Chaos – I doubt he has had as much experience pulling on flag pole as I have.
Reason 3
Mr. Sell-out
Mr. Sell-out
Let me ask you a question: who is the man who came in to APW and made an immediate impact, and who is the man who has been in APW for months scratching a living together from house shows and the odd television appearance? I know the answer to both questions, do you?
The fact is I have made as big an impact in a debut month as anyone probably ever has in APW. Within two weeks I was given my own show within a show, and it was probably the greatest vignette that has ever been produced by APW television. My friends in the business inform me that tea sales up are 0.6% in the USA since I arrived in APW, and Amazon US has sold every copy of my ‘How To Become Quintessentially English In Just Five Steps’. How many books has Zachary Rodell sold? How many hot beverages has Zachary given to the world? You just can’t argue with facts like these.
Whether the fans want to love me or they want to hate, and most of them love me – did you hear the way they chanted my name on Overdrive – not yours Zachary, but mine! – As I was saying, because they love me they want to see me. I’ve been told since I joined APW Overdrive has become the most watched show in Windsor, England. My t-shirt is the fast-selling t-shirt in Windsor, England. My face is the most recognised face in Windsor, England. You just can’t argue with facts like these.
Reason 4
The Independent Variable
The Independent Variable
Part of the build to what is surely going to be a show-stealing match, and about 99.9% caused by my simply being present in the ring, is the introduction of what I like to call two ‘independent variables’.
In Zachary’s case we have some powder puff woman of ill-repute taking on the role of the ‘independent variable’. It seems that sulking miscreant was having a little trouble getting himself up for the events; but that’s nothing a few calls doesn’t fix. So along pops Michelle Bishop and suddenly Zachary has turned into Popeye the Sailor Man; he’s achieving all sorts of feats like actually looking like he deserves to be in the ring, and even pulling off the odd fluke win. I’ve heard it said that nothing motivates a man like the affection of a woman (of loose virtue), not that I go in for that sort of thing. I’m much too aristocratic for that sort of thing.
Now I introduce to you my ‘independent variable’ – the Manservant. He is over 300lbs of hulking muscle, carnivorous rage, throbbing strength, and animalistic brutality. I keep him locked in a cage most of the day and we he gets out he is relentless. Well this week I’m keeping locked up and I’m feeding him on pictures of you Zachary. Remember it is no disqualification and this monster of mine has his mind set on a feeding frenzy – he’ll probably eat that waif of yours too.
So the two ‘independent variables’ set to affect the outcome of our match – I know which one I’m counting on.
Reason 5
Lest you forget...
Lest you forget...
Did I mention that I am quintessentially English? Therefore, by extension, the most interesting and the most fearsome opponent in professional wrestling today.
You just can’t argue with facts like these.
