Post by patricksparkman on Apr 17, 2013 0:33:30 GMT -5
*A shadowy figure appears in the tunnel walking onto the floor of the Carrier Dome. The turf of the football stadium is down in preparation for the Orange’s upcoming spring football game. A ball is tossed up and caught. Once the figure gets close, we see that it is Patrick Sparkman, abandoning his usual suits and coats for his old orange Tennessee Vols #82 jersey from his playing days and a pair of jeans. He walks out and looks up around the stadium.*
Sparkman: You know, it’s been a while since I walked out onto a football field. I mean, this ain’t nothing compared to Neyland, but it’s a football field. But when I’m on a college football field, all I can think of is SEC dominance. *with a big grin* 7 titles in a row boys. And now you are dealin’ with a southern boy where he is at his best. You see, when I step out of that tunnel, its deadly focus, it’s malicious intent, it is whatever I want it to be in that ring. I will be imposing MY will in that steel cage Sunday night.
*Sparkman puts down the football on the ‘S’ of the ‘Syracuse’ in the endzone and continues.*
Sparkman: Let’s just take a look at who I’m dealing with. Santa Claus *Sparkman has a confused look on his face*… Santa Claus. Well, you know, ever since I had my little change of heart from my old ways. I don’t lie. I don’t steal. I don’t cheat, unlike them boys I laid out last week. I know that you wouldn’t know it from these people out around ringside. *Sparkman pauses momentarily then looks at his watch.* Okay, let’s get past this little charade. We all know you ain’t nothing but a lunatic. We all know you go down every back alley and hire a woman of obvious ill repute every week, so you’ll go find the first two dollar whore in Syracuse, which shouldn’t take too long with what I’ve seen out of these women. You’ll prance down to the ring and be cheered for being a sandwich short of a sack lunch. And what does that say about the ownership of this company, *in an aside* lookin’ at you Alex, *back on subject* to hire someone with obviously impaired mental capacities. That creates an unsafe working environment for everyone who is forced in the ring with him. But you don’t care about how stuff may affect those who put their health on the line so you can have a nice fat check in your pocket.
*Sparkman shakes his head and takes a drink out of his Gatorade bottle before continuing.*
Sparkman: Now, Trent Brown. Ol’ Paddy himself. Some big somebody who feels like walking out of the potato fields hoping on a plane and comin’ on over here to try and make it in a place where he thinks he can measure up. Well, sorry Trent, being able to measure up to these Yankee bastards is like being the world’s tallest dwarf. When you try to measure up to the real world, you always come up just a little short. Plus, you seem to be more worried about some ol’ girl than what’s going on in that ring. Boy, you ain’t done enough just yet to past the tunnel vision you should have to have some real success.
*Sparkman laughs as he looks up in the stadium for a bit before finally getting back to his promo.*
Sparkman: Finally, Sebastian Jankowski. You’ve already come out and said you’re most worried about me, but you know I’ll have a weakness. The problem is, by saying what you’ve said, you’ve shown me yours. You’re more worried about me than anyone else in this match and, while I appreciate and understand the sentiment, never look past anyone. When you lock in on one person when there are others you could be dealing with, it might just catch up with you. You know, I’ve seen this change in your whole attitude in the recent weeks. A little darker with a bit of an edge. You’ve grown tired of losing and have learned that pandering to these people won’t do anything for you. Welcome to what it takes to actually make it in this country. You gotta stand for something. Problem is, you don’t stand for anything but championship gold. Let me tell you Sebastian, you may not have heard this before, but all that glitters is not gold. Standing for nothing but winning championship gold is like livin’ in a house built on nothing but sand. It might be there one minute, but before you know it, everything’s gone. You see I represent my people. Not these Neanderthals who sit out at ringside, booing me and wanting to take everything that represents who and what I stand for away from me, but the people who gave me a reason to try to be successful. The people who have pride in their culture all the time, not just when something goes wrong. The people who are decency, respect, and overall class. That’s the difference between me and you Sebastian. It ain’t all about the gold for me, it’s about the gold for everyone who understands and lives the southern way of life that all these Yankees have never and will never understand.
*Sparkman takes a deep breath before finishing his promo.*
Sparkman: You know boys, y’all need to face facts right here. Y’all don’t deserve this title opportunity the way I do. I look up and down y’all’s match list and it simply doesn’t stack up. All you boys have gone out and done is beat scrubs like Jimmy Ferguson and Scotty Blazer. Meanwhile, Alex Morgan has tried to do his damnedest to get me out of NAW by putting me in the middle of the NAW champion and the number one contender for the past few weeks, then making me earn my way into this match by essentially beating two men, while givin’ y’all a free pass on into the match. *with rising disdain* I mean, look at this, beyond leaving both members of Ass Kick Nation in a crumpled mess last week to even QUALIFY for this match, despite being placed squarely in the middle of Gunner Hughes and Virgil Keenan, *almost screaming* I’m the last man, BESIDES the NAW champion to have a victory over the now former TV champion, wherever he might be these days. You’d THINK that would count for something, but no. Not in this company. Not in my position as an outsider. It’s nothing more than, “Here’s something else where you’ll struggle to succeed.” *Screaming into the camera with his face turning red* ALEX! YOU OUGHTA LEARNED BY NOW! TRY WHAT YOU WILL, YOU CANNOT STOP THIS TRAIN FROM MOVING! *Sparkman takes some deep breaths and continues at his original volume, but his disdain rises slowly* If that means, I’ve gotta beat these three ol’ boys one by one Sunday, I’ll do it. If it means I’ve gotta beat all three of them at one time, I’ll do it. *Almost screaming again* If it means, I’ve gotta end each one of these guy’s careers, I’LL DO IT! *screaming again, turning a beat red to the point he is darker than his jersey* BUT IF YOU THINK I’M GONNA SUCK UP TO YOU AND BROWN NOSE MY WAY TO THE TITLE LIKE THE REST OF THESE MONGOLOIDS WILL, YOU BETTER THINK TWICE! I’VE GOT MORE PRIDE THAN THAT! *Sparkman tries to deepen his breathing over time to calm down. When he has finally calmed enough, he finishes.* Boys, it’s all over but the crying. You’re lookin’ at the new era of southeastern dominance, and it starts with the NAW TV title. *Picking up his football* And that’s just the way it is.
Sparkman: You know, it’s been a while since I walked out onto a football field. I mean, this ain’t nothing compared to Neyland, but it’s a football field. But when I’m on a college football field, all I can think of is SEC dominance. *with a big grin* 7 titles in a row boys. And now you are dealin’ with a southern boy where he is at his best. You see, when I step out of that tunnel, its deadly focus, it’s malicious intent, it is whatever I want it to be in that ring. I will be imposing MY will in that steel cage Sunday night.
*Sparkman puts down the football on the ‘S’ of the ‘Syracuse’ in the endzone and continues.*
Sparkman: Let’s just take a look at who I’m dealing with. Santa Claus *Sparkman has a confused look on his face*… Santa Claus. Well, you know, ever since I had my little change of heart from my old ways. I don’t lie. I don’t steal. I don’t cheat, unlike them boys I laid out last week. I know that you wouldn’t know it from these people out around ringside. *Sparkman pauses momentarily then looks at his watch.* Okay, let’s get past this little charade. We all know you ain’t nothing but a lunatic. We all know you go down every back alley and hire a woman of obvious ill repute every week, so you’ll go find the first two dollar whore in Syracuse, which shouldn’t take too long with what I’ve seen out of these women. You’ll prance down to the ring and be cheered for being a sandwich short of a sack lunch. And what does that say about the ownership of this company, *in an aside* lookin’ at you Alex, *back on subject* to hire someone with obviously impaired mental capacities. That creates an unsafe working environment for everyone who is forced in the ring with him. But you don’t care about how stuff may affect those who put their health on the line so you can have a nice fat check in your pocket.
*Sparkman shakes his head and takes a drink out of his Gatorade bottle before continuing.*
Sparkman: Now, Trent Brown. Ol’ Paddy himself. Some big somebody who feels like walking out of the potato fields hoping on a plane and comin’ on over here to try and make it in a place where he thinks he can measure up. Well, sorry Trent, being able to measure up to these Yankee bastards is like being the world’s tallest dwarf. When you try to measure up to the real world, you always come up just a little short. Plus, you seem to be more worried about some ol’ girl than what’s going on in that ring. Boy, you ain’t done enough just yet to past the tunnel vision you should have to have some real success.
*Sparkman laughs as he looks up in the stadium for a bit before finally getting back to his promo.*
Sparkman: Finally, Sebastian Jankowski. You’ve already come out and said you’re most worried about me, but you know I’ll have a weakness. The problem is, by saying what you’ve said, you’ve shown me yours. You’re more worried about me than anyone else in this match and, while I appreciate and understand the sentiment, never look past anyone. When you lock in on one person when there are others you could be dealing with, it might just catch up with you. You know, I’ve seen this change in your whole attitude in the recent weeks. A little darker with a bit of an edge. You’ve grown tired of losing and have learned that pandering to these people won’t do anything for you. Welcome to what it takes to actually make it in this country. You gotta stand for something. Problem is, you don’t stand for anything but championship gold. Let me tell you Sebastian, you may not have heard this before, but all that glitters is not gold. Standing for nothing but winning championship gold is like livin’ in a house built on nothing but sand. It might be there one minute, but before you know it, everything’s gone. You see I represent my people. Not these Neanderthals who sit out at ringside, booing me and wanting to take everything that represents who and what I stand for away from me, but the people who gave me a reason to try to be successful. The people who have pride in their culture all the time, not just when something goes wrong. The people who are decency, respect, and overall class. That’s the difference between me and you Sebastian. It ain’t all about the gold for me, it’s about the gold for everyone who understands and lives the southern way of life that all these Yankees have never and will never understand.
*Sparkman takes a deep breath before finishing his promo.*
Sparkman: You know boys, y’all need to face facts right here. Y’all don’t deserve this title opportunity the way I do. I look up and down y’all’s match list and it simply doesn’t stack up. All you boys have gone out and done is beat scrubs like Jimmy Ferguson and Scotty Blazer. Meanwhile, Alex Morgan has tried to do his damnedest to get me out of NAW by putting me in the middle of the NAW champion and the number one contender for the past few weeks, then making me earn my way into this match by essentially beating two men, while givin’ y’all a free pass on into the match. *with rising disdain* I mean, look at this, beyond leaving both members of Ass Kick Nation in a crumpled mess last week to even QUALIFY for this match, despite being placed squarely in the middle of Gunner Hughes and Virgil Keenan, *almost screaming* I’m the last man, BESIDES the NAW champion to have a victory over the now former TV champion, wherever he might be these days. You’d THINK that would count for something, but no. Not in this company. Not in my position as an outsider. It’s nothing more than, “Here’s something else where you’ll struggle to succeed.” *Screaming into the camera with his face turning red* ALEX! YOU OUGHTA LEARNED BY NOW! TRY WHAT YOU WILL, YOU CANNOT STOP THIS TRAIN FROM MOVING! *Sparkman takes some deep breaths and continues at his original volume, but his disdain rises slowly* If that means, I’ve gotta beat these three ol’ boys one by one Sunday, I’ll do it. If it means I’ve gotta beat all three of them at one time, I’ll do it. *Almost screaming again* If it means, I’ve gotta end each one of these guy’s careers, I’LL DO IT! *screaming again, turning a beat red to the point he is darker than his jersey* BUT IF YOU THINK I’M GONNA SUCK UP TO YOU AND BROWN NOSE MY WAY TO THE TITLE LIKE THE REST OF THESE MONGOLOIDS WILL, YOU BETTER THINK TWICE! I’VE GOT MORE PRIDE THAN THAT! *Sparkman tries to deepen his breathing over time to calm down. When he has finally calmed enough, he finishes.* Boys, it’s all over but the crying. You’re lookin’ at the new era of southeastern dominance, and it starts with the NAW TV title. *Picking up his football* And that’s just the way it is.