Ryan!
October 10th, 2006, 08:59 PM
**Cameras cut backstage to a very darkened room. Inside said darkened room, is a figure kneeling in the corner. The figure is bathed by a single beam of light. The camera begins to zoom in closer and closer, finally revealing the identity of this mysterious person. Although if you'd bothered to read the thread title, it obviously wouldn't be a mystery as to who this is, now would it? Yeah, GFG. Anyways, the camera reveals Ryan Starr, who hasn't been seen in quite a long time in the world of wrestling. He's wearing street attire. Black jeans, and a black Ryan Starr "Wrestling Messiah" t-shirt. He crosses himself from his prayer of sorts, and stands, turning to face the camera. The look on his face says it all. I'm back MFer. His sadistic smile obviously showing that he is perfectly happy to return to the ring.
Starr:
Pro Wrestling Warriors. My my my my my. What a sh*thole. No, I'm being completely serious. I was happy to sign the contract for millions and millions a year. I was expecting some high quality product. Then I saw what I had gotten myself into. I arrived at the building at promptly 5 PM this afternoon, and what did I find? Absolutely nothing. Minor leaguers who barely knew how to tie their f*cking shoes, let alone string together a series of moves complex enough to carry out a decent match.
So excuse me if I'm slightly pissed off. It just irritates me when I'm forced away from my wife and daughter to try and earn a living doing what I do better than any man alive right f*cking now. And yet when I arrive, not only am I greeted with sh*t, but also not even placed on the f*cking card. You've got to be joking. Seriously. For a month and a half all I hear is my phone ringing off the hook. "Please Ryan. It'll be a chance to gain some exposure to a new kind of audience. We promise no stupid gimmicks, just straight up wrestling."
Let me tell you something. There was another company who offered the same God damn thing. HCW. They said they'd make me the next big thing in the f*cking sport. They said that they'd showcase my talent, and appeal to my absolute love of this sport. They too promised to be clean of the same sports entertainment sh*t I'd seen everywhere else in this country. "It'll be like Japan. I know you like Japanese wrestling. You kept saying how you loved it over there." Well guess f*cking what? Just because you hire B-list Japanese "wrestlers" doesn't mean you offer what I've been looking for. Hence why I left that sinking ship before they could completely ruin my career. I mean, I realize how f*cking "talented" Dane Priest is, and how high profile each and every one of his matches are. My lord. God knows it takes so much talent to belt someone in the face with a chair, and climb a ladder.
So f*cking pathetic. You know, I looked back at my career, and all that I've accomplished. Looked back at what I did in high school. Two New York State titles, which polished off two straight years of not even being defeated. Earning the number one rank in the nation for high school my junior year. A four time NCAA All-American. A two time NCAA National Champion. As far as amateur wrestling goes, I've pretty much done it all. I've proven to be the most dominant, most talented wrestler to ever live.
Then I look back at my professional career, and how much of a f*cking waste it's been so far. Oh sure. GWF. Only a month in, and I take the strap. Oh, but what's that? I'm not ready to carry the company. I'm too young. Let's end my reign only three days into it and give the belt to Trauma. As if that f*cking idiot has even a shred of the talent I do.
Then what? XGW? Oh yes, what fond memories I have there. XGW World Champion. Made arguably the most dominating champion in the history of the company my bitch. Defeated him with ease. Yeah. Of course the f*cker sucked ass, and wound up injuring my back almost to the point it couldn't be repaired. Oh yeah, big f*cking joy there.
**Starr begins to pace back and forth, obviously not pleased about what he's going to say next.
Starr:
Then we have the utter sh*thole that is HCW. Let's see. You keep calling me, begging me to come back, despite the fact I was having the time of my life in Japan and Europe. You give me decent exposure to begin with, and even book me for the HCW Freestyle title. Obviously I'm going to take it, and I do. Then you bring in this young up and comer, Seth Frost. I'll admit, the kid's good. Hell, I actually have a small shred of respect for his ability. But the fact you took advantage of a very real, very sad situation of mine, forced me to wrestle, and made me look like I had no idea what I was doing, is completely unacceptable. Sure the kid may have some talent, but the fact is, I'm the Wrestling Messiah. I'm the greatest that's ever f*cking lived.
And now I'm here. I've made my triumphant return to an American wrestling ring, in PWW. And I'll make only one promise. I'm going to dominate. Destroy. Devastate. Every single cliche you can think of. That's exactly what's going to f*cking happen. And you know what? No one is going to be able to stop me.
My name is Ryan Starr. I'm the greatest pure wrestler to ever live. And I'm here to completely take this company by storm. Get ready for a revolution, because each and every member of the roster is about to face their perdition. It's only going to be a matter of time before they're on the canvas, tapping out to superiority. I am the Wrestling Messiah. And anyone, anyone who dares cross my path, will...be...crucified.
**Starr crosses himself again, and kneels, continuing his prayer from earlier. The cameras then cut back to the ring.
OOC: No IC replies, comments welcome
Starr:
Pro Wrestling Warriors. My my my my my. What a sh*thole. No, I'm being completely serious. I was happy to sign the contract for millions and millions a year. I was expecting some high quality product. Then I saw what I had gotten myself into. I arrived at the building at promptly 5 PM this afternoon, and what did I find? Absolutely nothing. Minor leaguers who barely knew how to tie their f*cking shoes, let alone string together a series of moves complex enough to carry out a decent match.
So excuse me if I'm slightly pissed off. It just irritates me when I'm forced away from my wife and daughter to try and earn a living doing what I do better than any man alive right f*cking now. And yet when I arrive, not only am I greeted with sh*t, but also not even placed on the f*cking card. You've got to be joking. Seriously. For a month and a half all I hear is my phone ringing off the hook. "Please Ryan. It'll be a chance to gain some exposure to a new kind of audience. We promise no stupid gimmicks, just straight up wrestling."
Let me tell you something. There was another company who offered the same God damn thing. HCW. They said they'd make me the next big thing in the f*cking sport. They said that they'd showcase my talent, and appeal to my absolute love of this sport. They too promised to be clean of the same sports entertainment sh*t I'd seen everywhere else in this country. "It'll be like Japan. I know you like Japanese wrestling. You kept saying how you loved it over there." Well guess f*cking what? Just because you hire B-list Japanese "wrestlers" doesn't mean you offer what I've been looking for. Hence why I left that sinking ship before they could completely ruin my career. I mean, I realize how f*cking "talented" Dane Priest is, and how high profile each and every one of his matches are. My lord. God knows it takes so much talent to belt someone in the face with a chair, and climb a ladder.
So f*cking pathetic. You know, I looked back at my career, and all that I've accomplished. Looked back at what I did in high school. Two New York State titles, which polished off two straight years of not even being defeated. Earning the number one rank in the nation for high school my junior year. A four time NCAA All-American. A two time NCAA National Champion. As far as amateur wrestling goes, I've pretty much done it all. I've proven to be the most dominant, most talented wrestler to ever live.
Then I look back at my professional career, and how much of a f*cking waste it's been so far. Oh sure. GWF. Only a month in, and I take the strap. Oh, but what's that? I'm not ready to carry the company. I'm too young. Let's end my reign only three days into it and give the belt to Trauma. As if that f*cking idiot has even a shred of the talent I do.
Then what? XGW? Oh yes, what fond memories I have there. XGW World Champion. Made arguably the most dominating champion in the history of the company my bitch. Defeated him with ease. Yeah. Of course the f*cker sucked ass, and wound up injuring my back almost to the point it couldn't be repaired. Oh yeah, big f*cking joy there.
**Starr begins to pace back and forth, obviously not pleased about what he's going to say next.
Starr:
Then we have the utter sh*thole that is HCW. Let's see. You keep calling me, begging me to come back, despite the fact I was having the time of my life in Japan and Europe. You give me decent exposure to begin with, and even book me for the HCW Freestyle title. Obviously I'm going to take it, and I do. Then you bring in this young up and comer, Seth Frost. I'll admit, the kid's good. Hell, I actually have a small shred of respect for his ability. But the fact you took advantage of a very real, very sad situation of mine, forced me to wrestle, and made me look like I had no idea what I was doing, is completely unacceptable. Sure the kid may have some talent, but the fact is, I'm the Wrestling Messiah. I'm the greatest that's ever f*cking lived.
And now I'm here. I've made my triumphant return to an American wrestling ring, in PWW. And I'll make only one promise. I'm going to dominate. Destroy. Devastate. Every single cliche you can think of. That's exactly what's going to f*cking happen. And you know what? No one is going to be able to stop me.
My name is Ryan Starr. I'm the greatest pure wrestler to ever live. And I'm here to completely take this company by storm. Get ready for a revolution, because each and every member of the roster is about to face their perdition. It's only going to be a matter of time before they're on the canvas, tapping out to superiority. I am the Wrestling Messiah. And anyone, anyone who dares cross my path, will...be...crucified.
**Starr crosses himself again, and kneels, continuing his prayer from earlier. The cameras then cut back to the ring.
OOC: No IC replies, comments welcome