Post by Virgil Keenan on Jan 23, 2013 16:04:04 GMT -5
Snowflakes flick, flutter, and drop in every which direction guided by the randomness of light breezes. The mood is accompanied by a few bodies littering the background slowly trotting along the sidewalks, with them a sparse few buzzing cars, flinging themselves around corner to their destination. In the immediate background we have a fence blocking off the more unintelligent of us from slipping down the hill into the river that hasn't quiet frozen over. Most importantly though, is the foreground and the man we're following. Slowly making his way along the side walk in a rather warm looking Misfit Hoodie, we have Virgil thinking silently to himself for the time being. For those more cultured amongst us, you might see the Inspiration in the set up from a Canadian Celebrity, we have a carbon cut out of what you might want to dub "A Virgil Rant."
"Two weeks I sat and listened to men and women sputter out their debut promos. Two weeks I listened to these wrestlers vomit out promises and guarantees. I was promised tides of purpose and destruction! I was guaranteed brave new beginnings! I was told there would be burning new examples of NAW's Future! Two weeks came down to two hours and what we got instead more resembled shambles, sloppy messes, and an injection of reality; men who were dressing themselves up as the next big thing, were nothing more than ever blown egos of muscle bound hobos. "
-Virgil keeps walking, his hands in his pockets, the camera man intently following in step.-
"like, where was your supposed tide Cthulu? Where the fuck was the delivery of your overwhelming promises of a new day? What happened to the wave, the lack of fear from whatever metaphorical barbed tridents you spoke of? Your coming storm? I searched for it Hulu, and all I found was your miniscule win. Was that was what you spoke of? If so, if that was what you were alluding too, then I am unfathomably underwhelmed. I'm disappointed because you're a man who sold himself on the level of a god, literally, only for you to then show up and sneak in a win. Not just a win though, but a win over a man who's accumulated such an impressive streak, he's made his moniker a literal representation of his career."
-Jazz hands-
"Flash."
-A smirk-
"So with such a dismal showing, I find you can be defined rather simply Hulu. You are defined by the term fraud. You are an illusion built upon words, promises, and hype. The enigmatic presence brought to us with a mask and a thesaurus is soon going to trickle down to reality, down into the foreground of bluntness. Here, you are merely a man dressing up, shoving a gimmmick down our throats with metaphors. Here, your atmosphere is revealed as it is, a stupid, preposterous, yelping from the background by the coughed up remains of an Edgar Allen Poe writing."
"Raven Nevermore? Really?"
"Really!?"
-I flip up a defiant finger.-
"Fuck off."
-I scoff, defiantly walking forward.-
"Stop Insulting me with your abysmal creativity."
"Stop insulting me with your middle school fantasies."
"Stop projecting upon me blunt lies, and a ridiculous persona."
"Stop being a complete and utter joke upon this industry. "
-I lul over an idea, pausing.-
"So, Cthulu, with that in mind It's to my hope, my pleading actually, that you've run out of puns and metaphors. I hope you are done shoving your fucking stupid gimmick down all our throats, alas perhaps this week you can address me as a person, and when you do, I implore you to answer to me a question."
-I walk a few steps, pulling my hands out of my pocket for a few seconds, flickering a gesture resembling that of something quizzical and smug with its intent.-
" What are you going to do against a man, a mortal as you might put it, who man-handled, disassembled, and broke 4 men this last week?"
-I stop in my step, the camera jolts to a still as well.-
"What are you supposed to do against a man who showed up for his match, absolutely brutalized, played with, and beat his opponent to near criminal levels? What are you going to do to a man who took a supposed boxing heavyweight and reduced him to a whimpering mass of skin? Because it's right there, right here that all those people who might gather silly similarities between us, hit the cliche brick wall. Because I acknowledge it, I see it, I hear it, I'm as guilty of all this chest puffing and ego feeding. I too, Hulu, stood in front of these people and told them a revolution was coming. I told them of my greatness, I did as you did, and promised a storm to this NAW. "
"The difference is I went to Meltdown, and DELIVERED IT."
"The tide that swept the roster, didn't come from you, it came from me. I went, and I actually did something, I didn't just show up and kick around a dead horse, raise my hand in victory, and call it a job well down. I impressed, I left a mark, I butted my way to the front of the line. While you were showing up back stage, collecting the well earned cash of the night, I was orchestrating the most impressive display of brutalized violence this federation has yet seen."
"Ha! and you guys thought Judas Fraggle was bad?"
-Wink-
"You guys don't know what you're in for, do you? But more specifically, Erik doesn't have a clue."
-I opt for the topic switch-
"Through all the things I've said in regards to Hulu here, he at the very least, won his match, opened his mouth, he said something, he presented a persona, an identity. You Erik, you drooling mute, you twit, care so little for everything you are here to represent, that I'm surprised you actually showed up for your match. Which is a joke in and of itself considering you left half way through it."
"Your apathy is blasphemy in my book, and it's punishable by complete and utter lyrical genocide."
-A smirk and playful eyes, I'm obviously enjoying myself too much.-
" See, if you look at the people who secured victory last week on Meltdown, you see a trend. Each and every one of them cared enough about their match to promote it. Don't get me wrong, it's surely not a direct and complete 1:1 ratio for winning, but the ability to acknowledge where you work, who you're facing, and who you are, surely fucking helps you towards success."
- A shrug and sarcastic apologetic demeanor follow slowly after-
"....Wait sorry, am I spoiling the great surprise? Caring, passion, a drive to succeed breeds success? Geeze Erik, my apologizes, I didn't mean to actually EXPECT something from you. My mistake, obviously looking upon you as a wrestler, as a peer, was a grand mis-step on my part. Surely you'd prefer a more accurate approach."
"A joke?"
"Pathetic?"
" Useless?"
"Waste of space?"
"A bumbling, immaculate, unfettered from intelligence, piece of retarded flesh?"
-An increasingly more frequent smirk rises up one side of the revealed portion on the mask. The smug, arrogant, piss-ant that Virgil Is, oozes to irritatingly through every insult and comment.-
"Better?"
-An annoyingly confident chuckle.-
"Was that your plan though? Bore me with the expectation of your arrival so that I too will come down with a parasitic case of apathy? Perhaps I then too, won't stick around long enough on Meltdown to introduce your face to the underside of my heel? IS that your scheme?"
" Good luck with that."
"And while you're at that, can we do something about this moniker of yours, 'Indestructible'. Where on God's green earth do you get off placing such a claim upon yourself, it's ridiculous."
-A shake of the head.-
"Ugh, actually, y'know what, a thought just occurred to me, I want you to keep it. Please, don't dare change it, because as time goes by, as you pile unimpressive showing, after unimpressive showing, it's going to accumulate such a hilarious connotation. That, if nothing else, will bring me such amusement, which at this point, is the complete echelon of your career's potential. I can picture it now, The indestructible one falls yet again, and again, and again. Yup, sounds about right to me, right there on the undercard, as a failure."
"Alternatively, as your alternative, I'll be running over this show with an iron clasp on its World Championship Belt. It's there that through the main event ,I'll be playing king of the hill with Hughes, pushing him down, card after card, after card. So please, if you have faith in the direction of NAW...."
"Rejoice for the future."
"Rejoice for the possibilities."
"Rejoice for me, For I am..."
"Virgil Keenan."
-Palm the camera-
"Two weeks I sat and listened to men and women sputter out their debut promos. Two weeks I listened to these wrestlers vomit out promises and guarantees. I was promised tides of purpose and destruction! I was guaranteed brave new beginnings! I was told there would be burning new examples of NAW's Future! Two weeks came down to two hours and what we got instead more resembled shambles, sloppy messes, and an injection of reality; men who were dressing themselves up as the next big thing, were nothing more than ever blown egos of muscle bound hobos. "
-Virgil keeps walking, his hands in his pockets, the camera man intently following in step.-
"like, where was your supposed tide Cthulu? Where the fuck was the delivery of your overwhelming promises of a new day? What happened to the wave, the lack of fear from whatever metaphorical barbed tridents you spoke of? Your coming storm? I searched for it Hulu, and all I found was your miniscule win. Was that was what you spoke of? If so, if that was what you were alluding too, then I am unfathomably underwhelmed. I'm disappointed because you're a man who sold himself on the level of a god, literally, only for you to then show up and sneak in a win. Not just a win though, but a win over a man who's accumulated such an impressive streak, he's made his moniker a literal representation of his career."
-Jazz hands-
"Flash."
-A smirk-
"So with such a dismal showing, I find you can be defined rather simply Hulu. You are defined by the term fraud. You are an illusion built upon words, promises, and hype. The enigmatic presence brought to us with a mask and a thesaurus is soon going to trickle down to reality, down into the foreground of bluntness. Here, you are merely a man dressing up, shoving a gimmmick down our throats with metaphors. Here, your atmosphere is revealed as it is, a stupid, preposterous, yelping from the background by the coughed up remains of an Edgar Allen Poe writing."
"Raven Nevermore? Really?"
"Really!?"
-I flip up a defiant finger.-
"Fuck off."
-I scoff, defiantly walking forward.-
"Stop Insulting me with your abysmal creativity."
"Stop insulting me with your middle school fantasies."
"Stop projecting upon me blunt lies, and a ridiculous persona."
"Stop being a complete and utter joke upon this industry. "
-I lul over an idea, pausing.-
"So, Cthulu, with that in mind It's to my hope, my pleading actually, that you've run out of puns and metaphors. I hope you are done shoving your fucking stupid gimmick down all our throats, alas perhaps this week you can address me as a person, and when you do, I implore you to answer to me a question."
-I walk a few steps, pulling my hands out of my pocket for a few seconds, flickering a gesture resembling that of something quizzical and smug with its intent.-
" What are you going to do against a man, a mortal as you might put it, who man-handled, disassembled, and broke 4 men this last week?"
-I stop in my step, the camera jolts to a still as well.-
"What are you supposed to do against a man who showed up for his match, absolutely brutalized, played with, and beat his opponent to near criminal levels? What are you going to do to a man who took a supposed boxing heavyweight and reduced him to a whimpering mass of skin? Because it's right there, right here that all those people who might gather silly similarities between us, hit the cliche brick wall. Because I acknowledge it, I see it, I hear it, I'm as guilty of all this chest puffing and ego feeding. I too, Hulu, stood in front of these people and told them a revolution was coming. I told them of my greatness, I did as you did, and promised a storm to this NAW. "
"The difference is I went to Meltdown, and DELIVERED IT."
"The tide that swept the roster, didn't come from you, it came from me. I went, and I actually did something, I didn't just show up and kick around a dead horse, raise my hand in victory, and call it a job well down. I impressed, I left a mark, I butted my way to the front of the line. While you were showing up back stage, collecting the well earned cash of the night, I was orchestrating the most impressive display of brutalized violence this federation has yet seen."
"Ha! and you guys thought Judas Fraggle was bad?"
-Wink-
"You guys don't know what you're in for, do you? But more specifically, Erik doesn't have a clue."
-I opt for the topic switch-
"Through all the things I've said in regards to Hulu here, he at the very least, won his match, opened his mouth, he said something, he presented a persona, an identity. You Erik, you drooling mute, you twit, care so little for everything you are here to represent, that I'm surprised you actually showed up for your match. Which is a joke in and of itself considering you left half way through it."
"Your apathy is blasphemy in my book, and it's punishable by complete and utter lyrical genocide."
-A smirk and playful eyes, I'm obviously enjoying myself too much.-
" See, if you look at the people who secured victory last week on Meltdown, you see a trend. Each and every one of them cared enough about their match to promote it. Don't get me wrong, it's surely not a direct and complete 1:1 ratio for winning, but the ability to acknowledge where you work, who you're facing, and who you are, surely fucking helps you towards success."
- A shrug and sarcastic apologetic demeanor follow slowly after-
"....Wait sorry, am I spoiling the great surprise? Caring, passion, a drive to succeed breeds success? Geeze Erik, my apologizes, I didn't mean to actually EXPECT something from you. My mistake, obviously looking upon you as a wrestler, as a peer, was a grand mis-step on my part. Surely you'd prefer a more accurate approach."
"A joke?"
"Pathetic?"
" Useless?"
"Waste of space?"
"A bumbling, immaculate, unfettered from intelligence, piece of retarded flesh?"
-An increasingly more frequent smirk rises up one side of the revealed portion on the mask. The smug, arrogant, piss-ant that Virgil Is, oozes to irritatingly through every insult and comment.-
"Better?"
-An annoyingly confident chuckle.-
"Was that your plan though? Bore me with the expectation of your arrival so that I too will come down with a parasitic case of apathy? Perhaps I then too, won't stick around long enough on Meltdown to introduce your face to the underside of my heel? IS that your scheme?"
" Good luck with that."
"And while you're at that, can we do something about this moniker of yours, 'Indestructible'. Where on God's green earth do you get off placing such a claim upon yourself, it's ridiculous."
-A shake of the head.-
"Ugh, actually, y'know what, a thought just occurred to me, I want you to keep it. Please, don't dare change it, because as time goes by, as you pile unimpressive showing, after unimpressive showing, it's going to accumulate such a hilarious connotation. That, if nothing else, will bring me such amusement, which at this point, is the complete echelon of your career's potential. I can picture it now, The indestructible one falls yet again, and again, and again. Yup, sounds about right to me, right there on the undercard, as a failure."
"Alternatively, as your alternative, I'll be running over this show with an iron clasp on its World Championship Belt. It's there that through the main event ,I'll be playing king of the hill with Hughes, pushing him down, card after card, after card. So please, if you have faith in the direction of NAW...."
"Rejoice for the future."
"Rejoice for the possibilities."
"Rejoice for me, For I am..."
"Virgil Keenan."
-Palm the camera-