Disposable Hero
September 30th, 2006, 02:56 PM
We’re backstage at The Future Is Now, specifically inside the locker room of Drake Vinaldi. The Sicilian Shooter is dressed for action as usual, in his baggy green cargo pants that are tucked into his black boots. Drake finishes taping up his wrists before standing up and throwing a few kicks into the air. Afterwards, Vinaldi throws his head back, flipping his hair out of his face, then looks into the camera that’s been watching him all this time.
Drake Vinaldi:
”If I were f*cking boring as sh*t, I’d stand here for ten minutes rambling on about retarded things like clouds and silver linings and all kinds of bullsh*t.
Fortunately, my name isn’t Seth Frost. It’s Drake Vinaldi. The Sicilian Shooter.
Last week. Pro Wrestling Warriors. Revival. The show that motherf*cking redefined the meaning of professional wrestling. There were tons of sights to see, but none as awe-inspiring as my performance in the Round Robin tournament. Darius Falcon thought he could intimidate me by going off on a tangent about how drinking is bad and God is nonexistent. After tapping out to Seth Frost early in the night, I thought I made him shut the hell up for good when I took it upon myself to drill my feet into his lungs. Lo and behold, he’s here again this week STILL talking about existentialism or some sh*t like that. Pretty f*cking annoying, but that’s besides the point. In my very first match in PWW, I did what I promised. I took my abilities to the next level, and I pinned Darius Falcon for the three count.
Seth Frost was the next victim. I took his head off with the Killing Blow, then I made him pass out with his own sleeper. Snowman, I’m sure that tonight you’ll be looking for revenge. Not only did I beat you, but I beat you in your very first match in front of all of these people with your own finisher. I stole a little bit of your motherf*cking pride, didn’t I? Does it hurt, Frost? Do you want the pain to end?
That’s too motherf*cking bad.
It’s not going to end, it’s only going to continue. Tonight, you’ve got to pin me or make me tap out two times in order to win. Do you honestly believe that you can do it? Sure, you made a nice little name for yourself up in the ‘big leagues’. Sure, you got a few title belts here and there. But that means nothing when you’re in the ring against somebody like me. I can kick you from any angle at any time. I take pleasure in making you bleed. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not some goddamn sadist like some of the f*ckwits in the aforementioned ‘big leagues’, but I enjoy making any unlucky son of a bitch that has to fight me bleed. It only makes me look better. You only got a taste of what I’m capable of last week. I was a little bit worn out from kicking Darius Falcon’s ass all over the ring, but tonight, you’re going one on one, toe to toe with a fresh Drake Vinaldi. A Drake Vinaldi who’s one hundred percent. A Drake Vinaldi who doesn’t plan on holding back.
Last week you said we haven’t seen anything yet. Seeing as the future is now… the darkness is beginning to fade. The shroud is being lifted. And I can see it… it’s beautiful…
Me kicking you in the f*cking head.
You think you’re ready, Frost? We’ll see what happens when you get another taste of the Killing Blow. And if you disagree with anything that I’ve said, then I guess it’s true, Snowman…
You f*cking love boys.”
Drake smirks at the camera before taking a few steps back… then throws a boot at the camera, which quickly sends us back to ringside.
Drake Vinaldi:
”If I were f*cking boring as sh*t, I’d stand here for ten minutes rambling on about retarded things like clouds and silver linings and all kinds of bullsh*t.
Fortunately, my name isn’t Seth Frost. It’s Drake Vinaldi. The Sicilian Shooter.
Last week. Pro Wrestling Warriors. Revival. The show that motherf*cking redefined the meaning of professional wrestling. There were tons of sights to see, but none as awe-inspiring as my performance in the Round Robin tournament. Darius Falcon thought he could intimidate me by going off on a tangent about how drinking is bad and God is nonexistent. After tapping out to Seth Frost early in the night, I thought I made him shut the hell up for good when I took it upon myself to drill my feet into his lungs. Lo and behold, he’s here again this week STILL talking about existentialism or some sh*t like that. Pretty f*cking annoying, but that’s besides the point. In my very first match in PWW, I did what I promised. I took my abilities to the next level, and I pinned Darius Falcon for the three count.
Seth Frost was the next victim. I took his head off with the Killing Blow, then I made him pass out with his own sleeper. Snowman, I’m sure that tonight you’ll be looking for revenge. Not only did I beat you, but I beat you in your very first match in front of all of these people with your own finisher. I stole a little bit of your motherf*cking pride, didn’t I? Does it hurt, Frost? Do you want the pain to end?
That’s too motherf*cking bad.
It’s not going to end, it’s only going to continue. Tonight, you’ve got to pin me or make me tap out two times in order to win. Do you honestly believe that you can do it? Sure, you made a nice little name for yourself up in the ‘big leagues’. Sure, you got a few title belts here and there. But that means nothing when you’re in the ring against somebody like me. I can kick you from any angle at any time. I take pleasure in making you bleed. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not some goddamn sadist like some of the f*ckwits in the aforementioned ‘big leagues’, but I enjoy making any unlucky son of a bitch that has to fight me bleed. It only makes me look better. You only got a taste of what I’m capable of last week. I was a little bit worn out from kicking Darius Falcon’s ass all over the ring, but tonight, you’re going one on one, toe to toe with a fresh Drake Vinaldi. A Drake Vinaldi who’s one hundred percent. A Drake Vinaldi who doesn’t plan on holding back.
Last week you said we haven’t seen anything yet. Seeing as the future is now… the darkness is beginning to fade. The shroud is being lifted. And I can see it… it’s beautiful…
Me kicking you in the f*cking head.
You think you’re ready, Frost? We’ll see what happens when you get another taste of the Killing Blow. And if you disagree with anything that I’ve said, then I guess it’s true, Snowman…
You f*cking love boys.”
Drake smirks at the camera before taking a few steps back… then throws a boot at the camera, which quickly sends us back to ringside.