(The Joker): He, he, ha, ha, he, ha, he, he, ha, ha, ha, he…and I thought my jokes were bad…
The scene pauses and Butch Parker walks into the view of the camera, remote control in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He tosses the remote control onto a sofa around five feet away from him, unscrews the bottle cap from the bottle of water and takes a long swig before commencing his address, a droll smirk on his face.
(Butch): Well, the late Heath Ledger said it better than I ever could.
A scoff-laugh hybrid involuntarily escapes Butch’s nose and mouth before he speaks again.
(Butch): It seems was I not only right about several members of the NWO constantly shielding themselves from verbal and physical harm by using others around them, it also seems that Eddie’s ignorance also knows no limits when compared to Talon’s pretence.
Eddie, you are as ignorant as a child and you have the articulacy to match. That is why you dislike Hans so much, apart from the fact that he has more talent in his left pinkie than you have in your whole body. You think that only he himself can understand what he’s saying. I hate to disappoint you Ed, well I actually I don’t, but nevertheless, I have known Hans a very, very long time, and I’ve never had trouble understanding him. Logan Neilson, the most indecipherable man on the planet, I can’t understand a word he’s saying half the time and he’s the same nationality as me, doesn’t seem to have any trouble understanding him.
Butch shakes his head as he replays Eddie’s words from his promo over in his head and can’t help but laugh.
(Butch): There are so many things I have to say, I literally don’t know what to talk about next!
I actually don’t know what’s more amusing…the fact that you’re trying to justify your pathetic World Title reign by claiming you had no competition or the fact that you ‘re that deluded to think Hans was undeserving of his victory over you, when in reality, he wiped the floor with you. He destroyed you and made a mockery of you and finally brought some integrity back to that belt. Or the fact that you think a real champion relishes the chase more than winning the title, apparently “because chasing it gives us the chance to take down all who stand in front and unless a new wave of greatness surfaces on the face of the title scene when the title is won, there is no one left to battle who haven't been dealt with?”
Butch raises an eyebrow, an incredulous look about his persona.
(Butch): Forgive me for being the ignorant one this time, but I believe you’re talking out of your ass, because in the real world, where people use logic, that makes absolutely no sense. I think that sort of bullshit comes from a man who didn’t have the balls to defend his title for fear he’d lose it at the first point of calling. When you won the World Title, Senester caught you with your pants down Eddie. You didn’t find yourself wrapped up in Senester’s debacles; you placed yourself firmly in his line of sight when you chose him as your mystery opponent or when you introduced Talon to Hennessey, take your pick. You chose Senester – a man who cares nothing for championship gold, or in his terms, any other brands of mediocrity that make others feel special. You had plenty of competition Eddie and you f***ing know it. You had Hans, you had AC, and you also had me! A man you have never faced in the ring. You claim I’m not or wasn’t in your league; me? I think the prospect of facing me one-on-one in the ring without any of your butt boys at ringside to save you has you shitting in your pants, because you know I’m better than you, you know I’ll break you in half like a f***ing twig, don’t you? You only enjoy the build-up to winning a title because in reality, you’re afraid of losing it or having to justify some sort of bullshit excuse for losing it. Eddie, a real champion takes pride in defending his title, in putting all his hard work and graft on the line against anybody that’s placed in front of him, but I doubt that would make any sense to a man like you, would it?
Get off your f***ing pedestal Eddie and get with the f***ing programme already Eddie. You want to talk about riding coattails? I made my success off of my own back, off of my own hard work. What adventures of grandeur did you do dabble in here in the HWA before you starting sticking your tongue up Talon’s ass? You did nothing! And what exactly do you think you’ll accomplish with this new clique you’ve now built to shield yourself from the world with? You think you’ll get championship gold? Who exactly do you think you’ll be facing when you’re the best of the best with hardly anyone able to say they’re your equal but somehow it’s Ronnie that’s supposed to be getting groomed for World Championship glory? The All Star Title? No, no, no, after winning the World Title, going back to a division you’ve already *Butch coughs* conquered would surely be a step back, would it not? The Spotlight Division? No, because then you’ve had to work with the, dun, dun, dun! The bottom feeders like Logan Neilson, Zero and the man himself, Talon Wilkinson! And the tag titles? Who are you going to team with? Hogan? A man who’d have to hold onto the tag rope just to keep himself from falling off the apron, and you really think you’d have any chance of battling past a team as promising as the Archangels or your very own DNA, before you even get to Shakir and Evers?
Butch starts counting across the fingers on his free hand and a mocking shocked expression appears on his face.
(Butch): Oh dear, Eddie, I think we just ran out of championships! I know what you could do though Ed! You could create your own belt! Yeah! Made out of the skin off of Hennessey’s decayed hide and the plating made out of Buffalo wings and shards from broken Tequila bottles. We could call it the HWA Laughable Championship; a belt that only members of the NWO are allowed to compete for, because that’s what you are Eddie, laughable.
Butch’s wry smile transitions into a more serious tone.
(Butch): But if I can be serious for a moment…I’m going to make you an offer Eddie, well its more like a challenge, one you’ll most probably worm your way out of by having Hogan, Talon or McNeil address for you. But seeing as how you’ve got these big plans of taking over the HWA and beating everyone in sight, sooner or later, our paths are going to cross, so I’m going to save you the shoe leather of trying to find me by challenging you to a match Eddie. No interference, no one at ring side, a simple one-on-one wrestling match. You and me Eddie, it’s been a long time coming, you’ve been an itch I’ve waiting to scratch for a long time. Eddie K versus Butch Parker; are you man enough to accept?
Butch holds both his hands out, his palms facing upwards and he lowers and raises them in different intervals, as if weighing up his options.
(Butch): I’m going to be a betting man and say no; like I said before, you’ll most likely have someone else address this matter for you, or you’ll continue to live under the assumption that I’m not good enough to step into the ring with you. I will say this though Eddie, if you refuse this challenge, it won’t stop me from finding you, from hurting you, from ramming your head up your own ass to prove to you that your own shit smells the same as everyone else’s. Whether it’s for championship gold, for personal pride or just plain old fun, you’re mine Eddie.
The scene fades to black.
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