The people around him pay little to no attention as he sits there in his seat. In the background a stewardess approaches the desk and alerts the passengers that it’s time to board. Before she can even finish her sentence eighty percent of them all clamber towards her ready to get on to the plane and settled in their seats.
“These people remind me of you Michael, all impatient, all wanting to put themselves above every other person on that plane. For some reason the simple fact that the damn thing isn’t moving until everyone has been checked on the flight alludes them. It doesn’t matter if you’re the first one on there or the last; everybody gets to where they’re going.
Just like at Blood, Sweat and Tears no matter what we do in that squared circle we’re both going to get to our destination. I’ve caught your long winded promos where you’ve told me how great you are and how poor I am, and I’ve got to say thank you.
Thank you for taking me back to 1997 when I was the big mouth hotshot upsetting the old timers on my journey. That fire I see in your eyes, the blind faith you have in your abilities reminds me of myself.”
He glances over to the crowd of people, all still trying to board the plane before leaning further back in his seat.
“Thankfully through my journey I got older and wiser. I learned early on that it makes no sense simply shouting your opponent down before the contest. If you tell the World that your opponent is second rate, that he’s no competition then just what have you accomplished in victory? If you manage to collect the victory you simply become a fool, and a joke.
In the last few weeks it’s been all about you, hasn’t it? Your attacking of me and your insults have taken centre stage in this little feud we have going. And well, I couldn’t be any happier with that.
You see, you expect to become the victor and have your arm raised at the pay-per-view. Clearly you’re of the opinion that I don’t stand a chance against you. Have you even considered what if this old bastard takes the victory from you?
I couldn’t care less if I lose the match, I have nothing to lose whatsoever while you’re placing everything you have on the line against me. For you it’s all about how fast and how hard you can hit me but for me it’s all about how hard and fast I can get hit and keep moving forward. And keep moving forward regardless, is what my career has been built on.”
Again he looks over to the crowd of people, more have gotten on the plane and the crowd is down to around fifteen people.
“But when it’s all done and dusted and we’ve given the fans a hell of a war where do you go from here? If you win you’ve already made it apparent that the win was expected, your career stalls because it seems like you’ve just padded your win loss record instead of making a significant jump up the rankings. If you lose, then you’ve embarrassed yourself for losing to an old timer who had no chance against you.
If I win the match then I’ve proved you wrong, I’ve overcame the odds of beating someone who is apparently better than me and moved on up the rankings. If I lose, well according to you that is just expected so the damage to my career is minimal at best.
Who is in the better position, junior? If you win it means nothing, if you lose it means everything yet if I lose it means nothing, and winning means everything. Hell, I could even take the draw and still come out of it smelling of roses.
So Michael, before I start this b###h of a journey to Minnesota let me do the un-cool thing and say thank you for being my first opponent on my first HWA pay-per-view. And I’m sorry to break it to you, but you’re not going to the last; that is the only promise I make.”
Standing up, he pulls up his sports bag and heads towards the desk as the promo cuts out.
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