Post by canadianfranchise on Jan 23, 2015 21:17:00 GMT
Walking into a local retirement home, the place smells of death and regret. Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out a surgeons mask and put it on. After all, RWD’s start player could not be up in a hotel room somewhere with a bad case of mediocre. I mean look at these people, pathetic now and probably pathetic in their “golden years”.
Well Connected both follow close behind me with cameras, as we make our way through the sea of old people doing a bunch of mundane tasks around us.
“I told you I was going to come in and claim what is mine and that is exactly what I been doing. I came in and I have been making waves ever since I got here and this freight train is just getting started.
This week I have Ray Harlan, a man I am not too familiar with but judging by the little I have seen of him, this is going to be nothing but a mercy killing. What is this business coming to when the company hero is a fat ass that still lives in his mom’s basement? No really, this is something I am truly trying to wrap my brain around. How you Ray Harlan, are the guy that many are saying could be the one to knock me off my high horse.
Granted covers can be misleading, this old song and dance most ring true because Fallon King and Slater Grimm obviously did not take time to read the book TJ Bryce. You must be a great athlete after all your in this business and this business above all else weeds out the geeks who just want to be a pro wrestler because it is trendy from the few who can actually call themselves professional wrestlers BUT just being good enough to be a professional wrestler is not good enough when you step into the ring with The Canadian Franchise.”
Walking past an elderly couple having lunch, I touch one on the shoulder, causing them to look another direction. Allowing me ample time to snatch the apple off their tray. Raising my mask just enough, I take a bite of the apple before putting it back on the tray and continuing along my merry way.
“Harlan you’re starting to fall through the cracks, starting to come off your stride. Is it the fact you been spending way too much time in your mom’ basement and eating way to much of that Cereal Toast bullshit your mom feeds you every morning. When I hear the name Ray Harlan, I at least want to feel some emotion. I want to feel that I can walk into that ring and you’re going to demand my attention that if am not careful you’re going to put in my place. NOT that if we don’t hurry up the match that you’re going to miss your bedtime.
I saw your last match, I studied the tape. What I saw is a kid disguised as a man. A kid who is too busy admiring the lights, fearful that one day he will wake up and it all is going to be just a dream. Fearful that at any moment the audience will see right through him. Someone who needs the approval of the RWD fans to keep up this sherade.
Look around you Harlan, this is your future. In some shithole retirement home, playing Chess and looking forward to once a day when you get to have a feel of Nurse Betty’s naughty bits”
A nurse walks by and I squeeze her ass, she turns around and goes to slap me but gets The Lenny instead, due to my matrix like reflexes. Looking at me disgusted that I would do such a thing Nurse Betty puts up her nose at the franchise and walks away.
“Is this a future that you can change?” shrug, “That is really up to you but in this marathon that we call progress Harlan, you are truly in the Special Olympics. So let me help you out by feeding you some must needed advice. This whole slacker thing you have going on is about as entertaining as watching two deaf kids rap battle. WAKE UP!, get a real job, move out of your mom’s basement and start taking this seriously OR one day you’re going to come across a man that will not hesitate to take the few brain cells you have left and knock them right out of your head.”
Heading toward the exit doors, I take one last look around the death shack before shaking my head and walking through the two large double doors and out of frame.
FADE
so quickly so sad!
