Post by R.W. Randolph on Feb 13, 2011 21:17:25 GMT -5
(Fade in.)
"Cue up the bad Toby Keith song. You know the one I'm talking about, the shitty one where he sings all cocky for no reason."
(R.W. is sitting on a metal chair in his soundstage, where he does all of his famous promos and where he says all the stuff that made PWE, ICE, Colo, and every other promotion he was in take notice. None of those matches matter to him right now.
This is room where he stood and held all of the major titles he held so triumphantly. Be it the Colosseum Extreme Title, the ICE Alias title, or the Universal Championships. None of those titles matter to him right now.
This is the room where he stood and discussed his rivalries with his hated enemies. Be it Menace, Justin Sayne/Sellers, Dylan Cage, Kenji Yamada, Jayson Black, Masaharu Tanabashi, Chris Jacobs, Lee Stone, Tomoko Hanahara, or K-Money. He had plenty to say, and he was never at a loss of words to say it. None of those people matter to him right now.
This is the room where last week, he more or less directly called out the Known Unknown. This is the room where he pinned the masked he yanked from his rival's face to the wall, by way of Ice-Pick. This is what matters to him.
His eyes are downcast, looking at the floor between his black cowboy boots. His hands are on his blue jean covered knees. He isn't wearing a shirt, instead opting to show his beer gut and the muscles that made his feats of strength seem so unsettling.
Against the wall behind him is the mask attached via Ice-Pick against his logo. The hype that made his match at Crowning Glory all but inevitable. He came up short against Brandon Frontier. That was insignificant. He watched earlier in the night as the masked man was made a fool of by young Blake Gold. That was insignificant. Randolph vs. The Known Unknown, the match many thought they'd be seeing as the finals for Road 2 Glory, was reduced to a mere grudge match. That's insignificant. What's significant is the match itself. There's bad blood between these two men. Bad blood that can only be settled in the wrestling ring. That wrestling ring will be located in Pheonix, Arizona.
His eyes raise, slowly. This isn't some realization that he's beaten. It's all for effect. He's been in this business for so long, he knows the need of drama. He knows he has to pull in the viewer to maintain their attention. So when he speaks, no one is surprised with what he has to say.)
Randolph: Some matches don't need that added punch. That added panache. Sometimes, a simple "person a doesn't like person b, so they're gonna fight" is all that's needed. Masked man, I can't say that I am not disappointed by coming up short against Frontier. And as much as you try to whitewash it, Blake Gold beat you in the middle of that ring. I'm not going to play it off like I didn't care. I did. Brandon was simply the better man that night, just like Gold was the better man in your match.
Say what you will about me, you already have and you'll definitely have plenty more to say, you cannot deny that I was right. I knew we would end up facing one another at Crowning Glory. When I did my little art piece behind me, it made it a guarantee. All we had to do is win. Of course, even if we both lost, the buzz was so loud I knew the match would have to take place. As much shit as I give Rodriguez, she knows a sure thing when it's slapping her in the face. She knows that the Road 2 Glory will pull people in regardless. Add a marquis match, and you've got headlines. Everyone in the PWE, from the guy who cleans the toilets at the home office to Christian Connolly himself, is talking about this match.
Does it suck that we probably won't face each other at the Road 2 Glory finale? Almost certainly. However, I know that I don't need to win that tournament to get a Universal Title shot. If I wanted one, I am at the level where all I have to do is ask. You're at that level as well, if you really are who everyone thinks you are. This year, Road 2 Glory is the match to give the huge boost to someone who has to earn that shot. It can be a Meiou who has been around forever. It can be a Frontier, who is looking for his own piece of the pie. It can be James, who has quickly made a name for herself. Or it can be Gold who even you can vouch for being championship caliber. Road 2 Glory would have been a good thing to hang on my resume, but it's inconsequential. The fact is, I got what I want.
(R.W. pauses for effect. This is the point where R.W. gives you the time to drink in what he just said. Because he wants to remember those final words before he continues. Basic "How to do a Promo 101" here: Keep the viewer's attention. Now he decides to continue, as it's time for him to make the next point.)
Randolph: Now it's time to address the elephant in the room, Masked Man. The big name that's always come up. You yourself have gone to great lengths to make sure that this name has popped up. And, even I have mentioned the name once in passing before I even saw that picture of you. I must say, Known Unknown, subtlety isn't your strong suit. You have gone so far to make everyone think you're Ryan Levine, that it makes me wonder why you're even bothering with the mask.
Compare that with me, Vato. Outside of that one passing mention, how many times have I said "The Known Unknown is Ice!"? I've definely made reference to you being him, but I've never out and out said it. For all you know, I could be assuming you're someone else entirely. Someone we've both mentioned. And going all this way to try and throw me off would be something I'd expect from him. So let me just go all out and let's play no more games. Why are trying to fuck with me, Devon D'Andre?
(Wait, what? R.W. stands up, chest out. He is the very symbol of Defiance. Body Language to help continue with the message, More "How to do a Promo 101." I hope some of the younger guys are taking notes.)
Randolph: That's right, Devon. If you think I was fooled by all of your bullshit, you've got another thing coming. You want me to think you're Ryan Levine so you could get that upper hand you never had. That's why you always ran beside me. Because you know as well I do that if our paths crossed and we had to face each other in a one on one contest, you'd get knocked on your ass so hard your damned head would spin. You know exactly what would happen if you tried Pure Gold I on me. You also know exactly what would happen if you attempted Pure Gold II. Neither would end well for you.
So, in order for you to try to throw me and the rest of the wrestling world off track, you act like you're the Coldest Player in the Game. You are going to great lengths my friend, even dragging the frigid one himself in on this. But even then, it will be all for naught when I rip that god damned mask off your face. And for me, that's all that matters, me revealing the sham that you are to the whole world! Only question is, what will you look like this time?
(R.W. unloads a knowing smirk. It's a subtle message to the Known Unknown. Maybe it's a reference to Devon constantly changing his look, as always did. Or maybe it means something else? How does it feel to be the victim of mind games for a change?)
Randolph: If you're wearing a second mask under the first one, so be it. I'll rip that one off, too. But I wouldn't wear too many of those little masks, my friend. I may get so content on ripping them off that I don't stop until I see skull! In all honesty, my friend, only 2 things can save your Identity this Sunday Night. One way is doing the whole Man in Black routine of having a bunch people running around dressed like you. In the event that you are unfamiliar with early days of PWE I'll make reference to another Vato who did that bullshit a lot: the Black Scorpion. And we don't really want to relive that debacle, do we Devon? And let's face it, if you try to play that game, there'll be two more Vatos more than willing to help me stomp each and every one of your clowns into dust. I just hope your friends aren't afraid of sickles. And as for the other way that your identity would be protected?
(R.W. simply cracks his knuckles. Let this be a lesson to all you aspiring superstars out there. Sometimes, less is more. The Broken Saint opts to use this time to put a picture perfect close to the party.)
Randolph: Sunday Night in Pheonix, Devon, we're gonna meet in one hell of a match. When the dust settles, we will learn two things. Once and for all, we will know who you really are. And you will finally know what it's like to get Knocked Out... or Clocked Out!!!
(R.W. looks dead at the camera and offers his trademark snarl. He then walks away as the screen zooms in on the backdrop once more. Is Randolph ready for the Known Unknown? Is the masked man really Ice or is he Devon D'Andre? Do the Enemigoes have their Work Visas squared away for the incredibly Anti-Hispanic state the PPV is based in? Only time will tell.
Fade Out.)
"Cue up the bad Toby Keith song. You know the one I'm talking about, the shitty one where he sings all cocky for no reason."
(R.W. is sitting on a metal chair in his soundstage, where he does all of his famous promos and where he says all the stuff that made PWE, ICE, Colo, and every other promotion he was in take notice. None of those matches matter to him right now.
This is room where he stood and held all of the major titles he held so triumphantly. Be it the Colosseum Extreme Title, the ICE Alias title, or the Universal Championships. None of those titles matter to him right now.
This is the room where he stood and discussed his rivalries with his hated enemies. Be it Menace, Justin Sayne/Sellers, Dylan Cage, Kenji Yamada, Jayson Black, Masaharu Tanabashi, Chris Jacobs, Lee Stone, Tomoko Hanahara, or K-Money. He had plenty to say, and he was never at a loss of words to say it. None of those people matter to him right now.
This is the room where last week, he more or less directly called out the Known Unknown. This is the room where he pinned the masked he yanked from his rival's face to the wall, by way of Ice-Pick. This is what matters to him.
His eyes are downcast, looking at the floor between his black cowboy boots. His hands are on his blue jean covered knees. He isn't wearing a shirt, instead opting to show his beer gut and the muscles that made his feats of strength seem so unsettling.
Against the wall behind him is the mask attached via Ice-Pick against his logo. The hype that made his match at Crowning Glory all but inevitable. He came up short against Brandon Frontier. That was insignificant. He watched earlier in the night as the masked man was made a fool of by young Blake Gold. That was insignificant. Randolph vs. The Known Unknown, the match many thought they'd be seeing as the finals for Road 2 Glory, was reduced to a mere grudge match. That's insignificant. What's significant is the match itself. There's bad blood between these two men. Bad blood that can only be settled in the wrestling ring. That wrestling ring will be located in Pheonix, Arizona.
His eyes raise, slowly. This isn't some realization that he's beaten. It's all for effect. He's been in this business for so long, he knows the need of drama. He knows he has to pull in the viewer to maintain their attention. So when he speaks, no one is surprised with what he has to say.)
Randolph: Some matches don't need that added punch. That added panache. Sometimes, a simple "person a doesn't like person b, so they're gonna fight" is all that's needed. Masked man, I can't say that I am not disappointed by coming up short against Frontier. And as much as you try to whitewash it, Blake Gold beat you in the middle of that ring. I'm not going to play it off like I didn't care. I did. Brandon was simply the better man that night, just like Gold was the better man in your match.
Say what you will about me, you already have and you'll definitely have plenty more to say, you cannot deny that I was right. I knew we would end up facing one another at Crowning Glory. When I did my little art piece behind me, it made it a guarantee. All we had to do is win. Of course, even if we both lost, the buzz was so loud I knew the match would have to take place. As much shit as I give Rodriguez, she knows a sure thing when it's slapping her in the face. She knows that the Road 2 Glory will pull people in regardless. Add a marquis match, and you've got headlines. Everyone in the PWE, from the guy who cleans the toilets at the home office to Christian Connolly himself, is talking about this match.
Does it suck that we probably won't face each other at the Road 2 Glory finale? Almost certainly. However, I know that I don't need to win that tournament to get a Universal Title shot. If I wanted one, I am at the level where all I have to do is ask. You're at that level as well, if you really are who everyone thinks you are. This year, Road 2 Glory is the match to give the huge boost to someone who has to earn that shot. It can be a Meiou who has been around forever. It can be a Frontier, who is looking for his own piece of the pie. It can be James, who has quickly made a name for herself. Or it can be Gold who even you can vouch for being championship caliber. Road 2 Glory would have been a good thing to hang on my resume, but it's inconsequential. The fact is, I got what I want.
(R.W. pauses for effect. This is the point where R.W. gives you the time to drink in what he just said. Because he wants to remember those final words before he continues. Basic "How to do a Promo 101" here: Keep the viewer's attention. Now he decides to continue, as it's time for him to make the next point.)
Randolph: Now it's time to address the elephant in the room, Masked Man. The big name that's always come up. You yourself have gone to great lengths to make sure that this name has popped up. And, even I have mentioned the name once in passing before I even saw that picture of you. I must say, Known Unknown, subtlety isn't your strong suit. You have gone so far to make everyone think you're Ryan Levine, that it makes me wonder why you're even bothering with the mask.
Compare that with me, Vato. Outside of that one passing mention, how many times have I said "The Known Unknown is Ice!"? I've definely made reference to you being him, but I've never out and out said it. For all you know, I could be assuming you're someone else entirely. Someone we've both mentioned. And going all this way to try and throw me off would be something I'd expect from him. So let me just go all out and let's play no more games. Why are trying to fuck with me, Devon D'Andre?
(Wait, what? R.W. stands up, chest out. He is the very symbol of Defiance. Body Language to help continue with the message, More "How to do a Promo 101." I hope some of the younger guys are taking notes.)
Randolph: That's right, Devon. If you think I was fooled by all of your bullshit, you've got another thing coming. You want me to think you're Ryan Levine so you could get that upper hand you never had. That's why you always ran beside me. Because you know as well I do that if our paths crossed and we had to face each other in a one on one contest, you'd get knocked on your ass so hard your damned head would spin. You know exactly what would happen if you tried Pure Gold I on me. You also know exactly what would happen if you attempted Pure Gold II. Neither would end well for you.
So, in order for you to try to throw me and the rest of the wrestling world off track, you act like you're the Coldest Player in the Game. You are going to great lengths my friend, even dragging the frigid one himself in on this. But even then, it will be all for naught when I rip that god damned mask off your face. And for me, that's all that matters, me revealing the sham that you are to the whole world! Only question is, what will you look like this time?
(R.W. unloads a knowing smirk. It's a subtle message to the Known Unknown. Maybe it's a reference to Devon constantly changing his look, as always did. Or maybe it means something else? How does it feel to be the victim of mind games for a change?)
Randolph: If you're wearing a second mask under the first one, so be it. I'll rip that one off, too. But I wouldn't wear too many of those little masks, my friend. I may get so content on ripping them off that I don't stop until I see skull! In all honesty, my friend, only 2 things can save your Identity this Sunday Night. One way is doing the whole Man in Black routine of having a bunch people running around dressed like you. In the event that you are unfamiliar with early days of PWE I'll make reference to another Vato who did that bullshit a lot: the Black Scorpion. And we don't really want to relive that debacle, do we Devon? And let's face it, if you try to play that game, there'll be two more Vatos more than willing to help me stomp each and every one of your clowns into dust. I just hope your friends aren't afraid of sickles. And as for the other way that your identity would be protected?
(R.W. simply cracks his knuckles. Let this be a lesson to all you aspiring superstars out there. Sometimes, less is more. The Broken Saint opts to use this time to put a picture perfect close to the party.)
Randolph: Sunday Night in Pheonix, Devon, we're gonna meet in one hell of a match. When the dust settles, we will learn two things. Once and for all, we will know who you really are. And you will finally know what it's like to get Knocked Out... or Clocked Out!!!
(R.W. looks dead at the camera and offers his trademark snarl. He then walks away as the screen zooms in on the backdrop once more. Is Randolph ready for the Known Unknown? Is the masked man really Ice or is he Devon D'Andre? Do the Enemigoes have their Work Visas squared away for the incredibly Anti-Hispanic state the PPV is based in? Only time will tell.
Fade Out.)
