Post by R.W. Randolph on Jul 27, 2011 17:53:14 GMT -5
(Fade in.)
"In one fell swoop, All Star Weekend has gotten more exciting."
(Sound stage. R.W. Randolph. You know the drill. Here. We. Go.)
Randolph: Eventually, Everything comes to an end. Be it another day, another week, or even the PWE. And at Cyberslam, it is so for PWE, and it is so for me. I gave some of my best years to this business, and it's been good to me. I can say that when PWE draws to a close, I will be doing the same. The company that no longer exists doesn't need a flag-bearer. I came within an eyelash of becoming the first PWE Universal Champion. I ended up being the fourth. I came out of retirement to the shock of everyone. I did battle with the Known Unknown and, waiting to see if he were to come out of hiding, I called out Erik Josten. TKU didn't show. Josten buckled and then fell. And I became the eighth Universal Champion in PWE history and the first ever 2-time holder of the belt. Take the hammer to the chisel and etch my name in stone. Call me Infamous. Call me a Hardcore Hick. Call me a Broken Saint. It doesn't even matter at this point. You have to add this little tidbit as of now: Wrestling Legend.
I've accomplished far more than a man of my look and my stature has any right to. I've often heard that the ugly guy can't be the face of a company. In many ways, R.W. Randolph is synonymous with PWE. You cannot, in any point in this company's history, talk about PWE without talking about me. One way or another, I have found a way to help carry this promotion on my back. I'm not gonna say I did it alone. My fellow Amigoes have helped shoulder the load in many dark periods. Many folks have offered a hand at one point or another. But it feels like in many ways, the sun rises and sets on me.
(Dramatically, he raises his arms. A spotlight appears on R.W. as the rest of the sound stage goes black. He continues.)
Randolph: I have written my legacy. My blood, sweat, and tears were my ink, and canvases the world over was my paper. As I prepare to conclude the story of my career, there's a few more chapters to be written. The first one is at All Star Weekend. I hit the ring to square off against former champion Erik Josten and Blake Gold.
I'm gonna start with Josten as he should be the easiest one for me to talk about. We had the war at Clash of Champions. His performance was not unlike his entire run: playing it safe and taking the easy way out. The problem is that he couldn't take the easy way out against me. I walked into that ring, destroyed his knee, and took his title. He's back in the best shape of his career. I have to wonder how long his foot was on the proverbial gas to make that happen. But even then, he has to know he's the weakest link in this match. As big as he is, and as strong as he is, he still has that bad wheel. And I fully intend on bringing that leg home with me to hang on my wall.
I just want to point out that I am expecting more of a fight out of you than I got last time. I just don't see you being able to be a threat to me or to Blake.
(R.W.'s hands lower. He grasps the Universal Title by the bottom as he continues. He directs his words at the number 1 contender.)
Randolph: Speaking of the #1 Contender: Blake, I've heard your song and dance. I know what you're capable of. I know what you want. But here's the problem you run into, Vato. You want the Universal Title? You have to earn it. If you're not willing to take part in the fight of your life, stay home. Don't even bother wasting my god damned time. I go into every match expecting a war, Blake. You experienced that first hand. You couldn't hang the first time we met, and I made you pay. I don't expect it to happen again.
In essence, our first match came down to one mistake: you underestimated me. You looked at me and saw a washed up old man. What you didn't see was that being "washed up" comes with its own advantages. I may not be able to match you in size and strength, but you cannot match me in experience. I have made a career out of being underestimated, and people have paid the price for thinking I'm just a Sick Hick from the Sticks. I was never the biggest, strongest, fastest, or the best wrestler. It didn't matter. I don't look like I have power, but I have thrown much bigger men around. I don't look like I am that fast, but I can push the pace on a bigger man. I don't look like a good wrestler, but ask anyone who has faced me and seen me hit that counter that turns a certain victory into agonizing defeat. I made a name for myself with toughness, intelligence, and experience.
(R.W. holds up 3 fingers. He told you what he was gonna say. Now he's gonna say it.)
Randolph: You can vouch for how tough I am, Gold. But just a look at my PWE career highlights would have sold it. The match with Lee Stone. The rivalry with Chris Jacobs. The wars with Tomoko Hanahara. Coming back to that Cage in the first Clash. Win, Lose, or Draw you knew that my opponent wouldn't be the same. It's always been that way. Toughness isn't something you learn. It's something you're born with. I don't care how many times you knock me down. I'm gonna get right back up until my body refuses to do so.
The second thing is the intelligence. Most of my career I've been seen as a dumb hillbilly. Do you think I haven't used that to my advantage? I study my opponents and I find their weakness. I analyze it and use it to take them apart. Think about Eric Josten for a minute. I tore his knee to shreds inside that cage. Or how about The Known Unknown. I used his mind games against him. I let my opponents destroy each other and pick up the pieces in three way matches. I don't care how smart you think you are. I am always one step ahead. Remember that, Blake.
And that brings me to experience. I've wrestled in front of 25,000 people in the largest arena in the world. I've also wrestled in front of 25 people. All along the way I have picked up things that have helped me well on my way. I learned how to generate hype. Icepick through a mask, anyone? I learned how to use my body as weapon. I learned the holds that keep people up at night. And you already have the Clock Out in the back of your mind even as we speak.
Of course, you do have a chance, albeit a slight one. You can very easily win this title, all you have to do is put Josten away before I get around to it. That doesn't concern me, however. Reason being is that I can just as easily let you do the damage and pick up the pieces. Call it Broken Saint 101. You always have to keep an eye on me, my friend. I've been at this game so long I could very easily just let you do all the heavy lifting and then be there to beat you to the punch when it matters the most: The end. Remember what you're up against Blake. This could be finest hour. Or this could be the night you get knocked out... or Clocked Out.
(R.W. is ready for All-Star Weekend. He plans on walking out as Universal Champion. Can Blake or Erik stop him?
Fade out.)
"In one fell swoop, All Star Weekend has gotten more exciting."
(Sound stage. R.W. Randolph. You know the drill. Here. We. Go.)
Randolph: Eventually, Everything comes to an end. Be it another day, another week, or even the PWE. And at Cyberslam, it is so for PWE, and it is so for me. I gave some of my best years to this business, and it's been good to me. I can say that when PWE draws to a close, I will be doing the same. The company that no longer exists doesn't need a flag-bearer. I came within an eyelash of becoming the first PWE Universal Champion. I ended up being the fourth. I came out of retirement to the shock of everyone. I did battle with the Known Unknown and, waiting to see if he were to come out of hiding, I called out Erik Josten. TKU didn't show. Josten buckled and then fell. And I became the eighth Universal Champion in PWE history and the first ever 2-time holder of the belt. Take the hammer to the chisel and etch my name in stone. Call me Infamous. Call me a Hardcore Hick. Call me a Broken Saint. It doesn't even matter at this point. You have to add this little tidbit as of now: Wrestling Legend.
I've accomplished far more than a man of my look and my stature has any right to. I've often heard that the ugly guy can't be the face of a company. In many ways, R.W. Randolph is synonymous with PWE. You cannot, in any point in this company's history, talk about PWE without talking about me. One way or another, I have found a way to help carry this promotion on my back. I'm not gonna say I did it alone. My fellow Amigoes have helped shoulder the load in many dark periods. Many folks have offered a hand at one point or another. But it feels like in many ways, the sun rises and sets on me.
(Dramatically, he raises his arms. A spotlight appears on R.W. as the rest of the sound stage goes black. He continues.)
Randolph: I have written my legacy. My blood, sweat, and tears were my ink, and canvases the world over was my paper. As I prepare to conclude the story of my career, there's a few more chapters to be written. The first one is at All Star Weekend. I hit the ring to square off against former champion Erik Josten and Blake Gold.
I'm gonna start with Josten as he should be the easiest one for me to talk about. We had the war at Clash of Champions. His performance was not unlike his entire run: playing it safe and taking the easy way out. The problem is that he couldn't take the easy way out against me. I walked into that ring, destroyed his knee, and took his title. He's back in the best shape of his career. I have to wonder how long his foot was on the proverbial gas to make that happen. But even then, he has to know he's the weakest link in this match. As big as he is, and as strong as he is, he still has that bad wheel. And I fully intend on bringing that leg home with me to hang on my wall.
I just want to point out that I am expecting more of a fight out of you than I got last time. I just don't see you being able to be a threat to me or to Blake.
(R.W.'s hands lower. He grasps the Universal Title by the bottom as he continues. He directs his words at the number 1 contender.)
Randolph: Speaking of the #1 Contender: Blake, I've heard your song and dance. I know what you're capable of. I know what you want. But here's the problem you run into, Vato. You want the Universal Title? You have to earn it. If you're not willing to take part in the fight of your life, stay home. Don't even bother wasting my god damned time. I go into every match expecting a war, Blake. You experienced that first hand. You couldn't hang the first time we met, and I made you pay. I don't expect it to happen again.
In essence, our first match came down to one mistake: you underestimated me. You looked at me and saw a washed up old man. What you didn't see was that being "washed up" comes with its own advantages. I may not be able to match you in size and strength, but you cannot match me in experience. I have made a career out of being underestimated, and people have paid the price for thinking I'm just a Sick Hick from the Sticks. I was never the biggest, strongest, fastest, or the best wrestler. It didn't matter. I don't look like I have power, but I have thrown much bigger men around. I don't look like I am that fast, but I can push the pace on a bigger man. I don't look like a good wrestler, but ask anyone who has faced me and seen me hit that counter that turns a certain victory into agonizing defeat. I made a name for myself with toughness, intelligence, and experience.
(R.W. holds up 3 fingers. He told you what he was gonna say. Now he's gonna say it.)
Randolph: You can vouch for how tough I am, Gold. But just a look at my PWE career highlights would have sold it. The match with Lee Stone. The rivalry with Chris Jacobs. The wars with Tomoko Hanahara. Coming back to that Cage in the first Clash. Win, Lose, or Draw you knew that my opponent wouldn't be the same. It's always been that way. Toughness isn't something you learn. It's something you're born with. I don't care how many times you knock me down. I'm gonna get right back up until my body refuses to do so.
The second thing is the intelligence. Most of my career I've been seen as a dumb hillbilly. Do you think I haven't used that to my advantage? I study my opponents and I find their weakness. I analyze it and use it to take them apart. Think about Eric Josten for a minute. I tore his knee to shreds inside that cage. Or how about The Known Unknown. I used his mind games against him. I let my opponents destroy each other and pick up the pieces in three way matches. I don't care how smart you think you are. I am always one step ahead. Remember that, Blake.
And that brings me to experience. I've wrestled in front of 25,000 people in the largest arena in the world. I've also wrestled in front of 25 people. All along the way I have picked up things that have helped me well on my way. I learned how to generate hype. Icepick through a mask, anyone? I learned how to use my body as weapon. I learned the holds that keep people up at night. And you already have the Clock Out in the back of your mind even as we speak.
Of course, you do have a chance, albeit a slight one. You can very easily win this title, all you have to do is put Josten away before I get around to it. That doesn't concern me, however. Reason being is that I can just as easily let you do the damage and pick up the pieces. Call it Broken Saint 101. You always have to keep an eye on me, my friend. I've been at this game so long I could very easily just let you do all the heavy lifting and then be there to beat you to the punch when it matters the most: The end. Remember what you're up against Blake. This could be finest hour. Or this could be the night you get knocked out... or Clocked Out.
(R.W. is ready for All-Star Weekend. He plans on walking out as Universal Champion. Can Blake or Erik stop him?
Fade out.)
