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 ||Cold. Dark. Damp.|| ||Aren't autumn nights fun?|| ||While most people are comfortably huddled around their television sets indoors, watching BoomTown or Boston Public or whatever show TV Guide and Entertainment Tonight have said is the 'Can't Miss Series!'|| ||Meanwhile, Weezle sits on the picnic table outside his Ottawa home. It's paint shows its age by the way it peels and flakes off with the slightest rub, but there is not enough illumination to see that. The night sky is slightly overcast, emitting just enough light to see Weezle, and to see that there is some object on the table behind him, but not enough light to pick up anything other than the fog that comes out of Weezle's mouth everytime he exhales.|| ||After a few seconds of silence, Weezle shudders, takes a deep breath, and starts to talk.|| Hello, all. ||The camera is positioned in front of Weezle, below his eyeline and slightly to his right. The camera looks up at Weezle, but Weezle stares out straight ahead.|| 'Tis I, the roaming goofball, Weezle. After what's been going on lately, I thought it would be best if I just sat down and talked. Explain what's been going on through my voice and opinions. ||Weezle sniffles a bit due to the cold, and clears his throat once he stops sniffling.|| First, I would like to say good-bye to a friend. Master Xtreme. While we only worked together for a short time, he seemed like a really cool guy. ||Weezle looks behind where he is sitting, and lifts up something off the table.|| That brings me to these. ||Weezle raises both his hands, and in the faint light we see he is holding the TXT belts.|| These straps seem to carry some sort of curse. When Keoki Yamada and myself first introduced these titles... They carried some significance. Some meaning. They told the rest of LCW that these to pieces of leather and gold were worn by reckless, dangerous men. Now look what has happened. ||Weezle sniffs again, although it is hard to tell whether it is from the cold or emotions.|| Keoki was, and still is, indefinitely sidelined by a knee injury. I was still fighting, and there was no way in hell they were going to take my belt away from me unless they killed me and pried it out of my bloody fingers. So I did what I had to do to keep the belt. To keep some dignity attached to it. I... *sigh*... teamed with Big Red. At first, I hated the guy. But he kept trying to 'prove himself', almost to the point where I was going to accept him as a teamate -- Hey! Not that kind of way! Anyway... Just when I thought Red might make a good WRESTLING partner, his menstrual cycle peaked, and he freaked out and flipped on me. Well, good riddance. That brought on the Champ versus Champ fight. Xtreme and myself won, and Red and his friend/enemy, whichever, went on with their little squabble. And now, Xtreme is gone. Just frickin' perfect! So now I am alone, again. A tag team champion with no tag team. So what do I do? Well, I tried to start another tag team, granted it was somewhat of a half-assed effort, but it was to no avail. So for now, I'll meekly search for a tag team partner. But I will NOT let go of these belts. I have gone through too much to give them up. ||Weezle puts the belts back down behind him, blows some hot air into his cold, bare hands, and carries on.|| Of course, speaking of trophies, I can't let this one go by. ||Weezle reaches behind his back and brings forth the Master of the Ring trophy.|| I must say, this is quite an accomplishment. Hard to imagine, but after a year and a half, I have finally proven my worth. I have finally proven that I belong. A year and a half ago, I shyly walked into OWF offices, as trainers questioned me, pounded me, tried to mentally and physically break me. After proving my rookie abilities, Bad Blood offered me a contract. I signed it as quick as I could, and never once... Never ONCE... did I ever think I would be where I am now. Hell, I figured I'd be back living with my parents, pushing carts or pumping gas for a living. Instead, I'm Master of the Ring. I have proven that I am the best damn wrestler in the LCW... Hell, maybe even the world! I showed that I have the guts... the determination... and the skill to stand up to any challenge. ||Weezle pauses, nods his head a few times, then puts the trophy back behind him.|| I was riding a massive high... and then, on the night that I was honoured for my accomplishments... I was brought crashing back down. My tag team partner. My best friend. Attacked. Some... gutless bastard attacked him from behind. Some wimpy puke jumped him! And now... there is only one thing I can do. Keoki and I proud ourselves on our honour, and when someone attacks Keoki like they did, they screwed up. Whoever the sickening dipshit is, you... Screwed... Up. What you should have done was taken me out too, before I found out. You see, because now I have to figure out who you are, track you down, and make sure that you start to eat your meals through a straw! No... From a bag... Yes... Forget breaking your jaw... Along with every other bone I can break before I tire myself from beating you... No, no straw for you... You will be having your meals from an IV Drip bag. Yea... You can find out what it's like to eat through a needle in your arm. Seeing as I have my choice of any match I want, with any opponent I of my choosing, I think I will find the miserable piss-ant, and pound their ass in... Uhh... some... really... really... REALLY messed up match! I dunno... How about some crazy Japanese shiznat? Electrified barbed-wire? Yea... That will-- no. No, that's no good. C4. Yea... and tacks. Yes... Tacks. Yea, that should do nicely... ||Weezle gets up, paces around the table to warm his legs up, then sits back down.|| Now, how about my friend-slash-boss Brendan... and his going-ons with Zodiac. Zodiac --can I call you Zode? Well, Zode, I never really was too high on you. I mean really, Brendan can do much better than you. Have you won any matches lately without some sort of interference? Or how about this question... Have you won ANY matches lately? I know going back to the main event at Master of the Ring that the answer would be... NO!! Haha... Oooooh how I loved that. Now maybe that'll shut those big fat lips of yours. Guppy, you can count yourself lucky. If it wasn't for what happened to Keoki, I would select you as my opponent, and take great pleasure in bitchslapping a bitch for the LCW World Title. ||Weezle snickers, takes a breath, and continues.|| And I know what you're going to say next. You're going to make some witty joke about how me and Brendan are gay. Yea, I caught your little comment. Wow. Is this grade three or four? I mean, come on. Are you saying that if two people of the same sex are friends, they're gay? In that case, how many lesbian relationships have you had? I think you should replace that creepy genie guy for Alexanian Carpet's mascot. First it was the oh-so-witty Rook with his 'snicker-snicker-Weezle-and-Keoki-are-gay-snicker-snicker.' Kind of sad, really. And now you. I honestly thought you were smarter than that. I mean, I didn't give you much credit, but I thought you weren't completely brain dead. Oh well, learn something new everyday. ||Weezle rubs his hands together, and stands up.|| Well... I'm feeling a little better now. I released some pent up tensions, and now I can focus a little more clearly on what I'm going to do come Breakdown. And Zode, don't worry. I will come after you some day. You can make all the immature grade school jokes you want, but Brendan is a good mate. And if beating the life out of your Pregnant-Monkey-Syndrome ass helps, then I will be only too pleased to do it. ||In the slight amount of light that remains, you can make out Weezle winking into the camera as he walks away.|| ||End|| |
