Post by Ric Tatum on Mar 2, 2011 18:28:02 GMT -5
(FADE-IN: To Ric Tatum, bearded and hands on hips, wearing a blue 'CARVER RAMS' three-quarter sleeve, mirrored Aviators hooked on the shirt neck, and faded Wrangler jeans, standing with a PWE 'SOLITARY' backdrop at his six.)
Ric Tatum: (w/ Southern drawl, voice like a gravel road) This sport, business, job - 'cause it is all those things - is a simple beast. I don't have the desire to break down each and every match, or why folks do what they do. Whether they compete for the money, fame, women, or RESPECT. Never spent a lick of time putting a reason to why I wrestle. It's just what I do, always wanted to do, and, Bear Bryant willing, will do until I can't compete to my expectations. It's in my BLOOD. Grinding a joint into dust and sweeping it under the rug is as natural as a rooster crowing at sunup. And, like you, I hate to toot my own horn (smirks), but maybe that's why I'm damn good at it. Maybe it's the reason I'd rather stay home than drive all over heck to WASTE my talent and time against scrubs. It's the reason, with brass balls and all, that I called out PWE management. Little ol' Ric Tatum, WHO, (holds hand up to right ear) asked for a CHALLENGE. Somebody worth lacing my boots up for.
By the by, Amerie ... (pause) Enemigo XVI? Turn up your TV, boss, 'cause apparently you aren't getting the message. I'm going to put an EXCLAMATION point on my demands from a few weeks back. You're going to waltz that tub'a'flub out against Ric Tatum? It's his dumb luck, and your makeup-corroded brain, that his Worker's Comp is about to kick in.
(All business, runs a hand through his beard.)
RT: But, I'm getting off track. As far as challenges go, albeit no thanks to management, I do have one looming at Solitary 64. Seems there's one boy who still enjoys some of that wrestling everybody is always talking about. Impulse, forget the respect. Toss it right out on its HIND END. Quit overthinking this match. It's wrestling ... it's simple. It's all laid out in front of us. Size and Strength versus Speed. Old School versus the New Age Hipster. Little Johnny is going to sneak outta the house to see this one. Doesn't matter if it's cold as hell, mercury's ass puckered tight, folks are going to come see this. There's only ONE thing that we don't know.
Who is better? (Pause, let it settle) We're going to find out at 64, that's for damn sure.
(FADE OUT)
Ric Tatum: (w/ Southern drawl, voice like a gravel road) This sport, business, job - 'cause it is all those things - is a simple beast. I don't have the desire to break down each and every match, or why folks do what they do. Whether they compete for the money, fame, women, or RESPECT. Never spent a lick of time putting a reason to why I wrestle. It's just what I do, always wanted to do, and, Bear Bryant willing, will do until I can't compete to my expectations. It's in my BLOOD. Grinding a joint into dust and sweeping it under the rug is as natural as a rooster crowing at sunup. And, like you, I hate to toot my own horn (smirks), but maybe that's why I'm damn good at it. Maybe it's the reason I'd rather stay home than drive all over heck to WASTE my talent and time against scrubs. It's the reason, with brass balls and all, that I called out PWE management. Little ol' Ric Tatum, WHO, (holds hand up to right ear) asked for a CHALLENGE. Somebody worth lacing my boots up for.
By the by, Amerie ... (pause) Enemigo XVI? Turn up your TV, boss, 'cause apparently you aren't getting the message. I'm going to put an EXCLAMATION point on my demands from a few weeks back. You're going to waltz that tub'a'flub out against Ric Tatum? It's his dumb luck, and your makeup-corroded brain, that his Worker's Comp is about to kick in.
(All business, runs a hand through his beard.)
RT: But, I'm getting off track. As far as challenges go, albeit no thanks to management, I do have one looming at Solitary 64. Seems there's one boy who still enjoys some of that wrestling everybody is always talking about. Impulse, forget the respect. Toss it right out on its HIND END. Quit overthinking this match. It's wrestling ... it's simple. It's all laid out in front of us. Size and Strength versus Speed. Old School versus the New Age Hipster. Little Johnny is going to sneak outta the house to see this one. Doesn't matter if it's cold as hell, mercury's ass puckered tight, folks are going to come see this. There's only ONE thing that we don't know.
Who is better? (Pause, let it settle) We're going to find out at 64, that's for damn sure.
(FADE OUT)