05/01/2013
Black Eye Entertainment | Production Studios
Chicago, Illinois
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* We open directly outside of a large sound studio in Chicago, Illinois. The cameras move in closer towards a set of doors with a Black Eye Entertainment emblem found screen printed onto the glass. After moving through the entrance of the building we move past the front lobby and continue through what appears to be a large area used for chroma-key video projects. The sound of conversation is heard coming from someone in the adjoining room. We move through another door to find Michael James sitting behind a desk placed in the center of his custom office. He is testing the beta version of a video game on his laptop while speaking to someone on the telephone. We cut to a shot behind James so viewers can have a glance at his monitor *
* He sits back and allows his custom entrance to load while placing a cigarette between his lips. He lights the tip of the Marlboro with his lighter and drops it on top of the table. James exhales a cloud of smoke from his mouth and removes his sunglasses. He grows a suspicious expression on his face and he locks the image of the footage with his keyboard. He begins speaking to someone on his phone in Japanese with what appears to be an angered tone. A few seconds later he ends the call and leans back in his chair *
Michael James: I don’t know which one of my problems could be considered the worst at this point in time. Butch Parker or Steve Angel. On one hand, we have Butch Parker running his mouth about the usual bullshit; desperately trying to use his cheap shot on me as some kind of half assed claim to fame. I could really care less what Butch has to say because just like Steve Angel, he’s a ####ing idiot. He talks a big game, blows a lot of smoke from his ass and expects the world to reward him for his ignorance. Sure, he won the World Championship from Senester and now he thinks he’s Leonardo DiCaprio. But you know what? That doesn’t impress me in the slightest. You could name him the King of HWA and Parker would still be the same egomaniacal, self centered, disrespectful douche bag that he was before. Slapping a championship around his waist doesn’t change anything. That’s like tossing a few pennies on a pile of shit and trying to call it gold. He might be fooling Shevington but I still refuse to buy Parker’s bullshit. He wants the world to believe he’s a hero for doing what exactly? Stealing championships and hitting me with some half assed cheap shot? Gimme a ####ing break. You’re going to have to try a lot harder than that if you want my approval. I don’t think you’re a hero, Butch. I think you’re a ####ing clown. Nothing more than a clown with a world championship you don’t deserve to be holding. More importantly, your material is defective. Otherwise, you would have known the final massacre of Bryan Deas wasn’t just the best match of the year, it was a MAIN EVENT, you inaccurate piece of shit. So next time you want to run your mouth about my flawless record I suggest you do the proper research.
* A few seconds later an alert is heard coming from his phone. James picks it up from the desk and looks at the screen to notice a new message in his personal inbox. He opens the message and rolls his eyes when discovering it to be a notice from Liz Shevington regarding overall company policy for employees of the HWA. An update is listed at the bottom of the email reminding him to check the website for information regarding the upcoming pay-per-view event, Road to Ruin. He uses his phone’s browser to go directly to the site. Once there, he is quick to download the most recent Fallen promo titled “After Havoc”. He exhales another cloud of smoke from his lungs while allowing the promo to download onto his hard drive. He uses the Quicktime player to view the footage *
I WONT stop till I see you laying on the mat at my feet, and I raise that All Stars title high into the air above you!!!
* He looks directly into the camera with a cynical expression on his face. James reaches down and opens the bottom drawer of his desk. He pulls something out of the drawer and brings it up to the desk. He removes a silk cover on the object and reveals the newly polished All Star Championship. James takes another drag from his cigarette and directs his attention towards the camera lens *
Michael James: First of all, Fallen. If you’re going to talk about MY championship, show some common decency and learn how to pronounce the ####ing name. I mean, do you even know why it’s called the All STAR Championship? No, of course you don’t. So allow me to do what your inbred family couldn’t do and give you a much needed dose of common education. It’s called the All Star title for one reason and one reason only, Fallen. For anyone holding this championship; it symbolizes progression, individual development and incomparable supremacy over every single member of the active roster. It means that management has found their next flagship franchise and what better way to signify the order of balance than with fifteen pounds of gold? The All Star Champion stands alone as the future of the company. So despite whatever bullshit kind of defense you want to use against me Fallen, the only thing you have to look forward to in your future is a loss to Michael James. You can’t be trusted to be a flagship player because let’s face facts here, Steve. You’re exactly like Butch Parker. Your best days are behind you and now you’re just wasting time. You will never be recognized as championship material so why stick around in a place where you have no possible future? Just do us all a favor and quit now. Leave the company and take all of your obsolete memories with you. If not, I can promise you nothing more than the same fate that I granted to Bryan Deas. I told that mother####er if he kept testing me I was going to end his career and now he’s a ####ing cripple. He did the EXACT same shit you are doing now. He told me he was going to kick my ass and end my streak. He told me he would take my title. But he didn’t do either one of those things, did he? The sad part is you are no better than him. So what the #### makes you think you can get the job done where your equals have failed?
* James takes another drag from ashes the cigarette and ashes it in a glass tray *
Michael James: If you are ever lucky enough to have a shot at my championship I can guarantee you that it’s not going to have the fairy land outcome you’re expecting. It’s going to be the ultimate test of will, endurance and the ability to tolerate more pain and suffering than you have ever experienced in your ####ing life. And no, I’m not talking out of my ass like you, Steve. I actually have a point in mind. If you really want to risk your career for another pointless loss I will allow it under my own conditions and specifications.
The place?
Road to Ruin.
The match?
Barbed Wire Massacre.
* James takes a moment of silence allowing the motive of his challenge to sink into Fallen’s mentally defective brain *
Michael James: What’s that? It’s too violent for you? Well, guess what, b###h? I’m the one with the championship so I make the ####ing rules. It’s my way or the highway and if you refuse to accept this challenge I will have no choice but to continue making your time in the HWA the most humiliating run of your entire career. Personally, I have no problem defending my championship in an ultraviolent environment. You want to know why? It’s because stipulations don’t mean a ####ing thing to me. I didn’t earn the reputation of perfection personified by sitting around waiting for things to be handed to me like Butch Parker. I beat Judas Mercury fair and square to win my championship and then I successfully defended it against him a few weeks later. Luckily for me and the rest of the HWA, Fallen won’t be making any unexpected returns after this match. He’ll be face down in a hospital bed somewhere wishing he never heard the name Michael James or the All Star Championship. If that’s what I have to do to get my point across then so be it. This is what you’ve been asking for so you can accept this opportunity or you can tuck tail and hide like a b###h, Fallen. It only took me one effort to put Bryan Deas on the shelf and something tells me the same thing is going to happen to you. You’re no better than he was so it’s only natural for you to share the same experience. It might not be what you envisioned for your career but that’s what happens when you piss off an undefeated champion with no sense of human morality. You lose and you lose big. Just like Bryan Deas, Judas Mercury and Freddie Styles. And yes, I know, Fallen. You’re better than them, right? Well, you know what? I think you’re full of shit. Otherwise you wouldn’t have needed my assistance for a win against Butch Parker. You would have done it on your own. But just like Bryan Deas, you just couldn’t get the job done.
* He snuffs out the cigarette in the ash tray. Michael James lifts the All Star Championship from the desktop and holds it up with both hands. The room lighting causes some slight camera glare to repel from the custom designed face plate *
Michael James: At the very beginning of 2013, I was faced with a huge decision. I could sign with the HWA on a limited basis or I could take things full throttle and make this company I product of my own design. Obviously, I decided to dismiss the idea of limitations and quickly became the most feared man on the roster. A few weeks after my arrival I became the All Star Champion at the expense of another outdated relic named Judas Mercury. People want to say I was handed the championship on a bias technicality but if that was truly the case why didn’t I lose it on my first defense? It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. It’s because unlike Butch Parker and Fallen, I’m the real deal. I came into this company and turned it upside down without breaking a ####ing sweat. Despite what people want to say about the Personification of Perfection I’m the best thing to happen to the HWA since Wisdom Parker started giving out backstage blowjobs. I put the asses in the seats and the money in the bank. What exactly do you do for the company, Fallen? Run your mouth about things you’re never going to do? Yes, that’s what I thought. That’s exactly what you did last week against Butch Parker. You said you were going to beat him fair and square. You didn’t do that. You said you were going to use Parker to give me a preview of the inhumane punishment you have planned for me. And what happened, Steve? Oh yes, I remember. You couldn’t get the job done so you used me as your scapegoat for a win over Butch Parker. Nice move, dipshit. Nothing says “pride and dignity” like cheating your way into a win with a ####ing DQ.
* He says with obvious sarcasm as he stands up and takes the All Star Championship with him. Michael James moves around to the front and takes a seat on top of the desk *
Michael James: So far no one has been able to take this championship from me. No one can present a challenge worthy of my time or capabilities. But that doesn’t surprise me at all. I know exactly how good I am even if the assholes like Parker and Angel want to try to prove otherwise. I have defended this championship since January and it’s not because of a sudden ration of supernatural luck. No. I have something much better than that. I have the natural ability to outperform anyone on the roster and I’ve proven it time and time again. Even Butch Parker knows I’m the only one capable of taking his championship and that’s the only reason he sucker punched me at the end of Havoc. Butch has always been a man who is afraid of his own shadow. He will look in the mirror and pretend that he likes what he sees in the reflection. But at the end of the day, it’s that obvious lack of confidence that guides his thoughts and actions. Sure, he will say it comes from his love for Wisdom and their experimental abortion but we all know better. Butch wasn’t fooling anyone when he lost at Blood, Sweat and Tears and he sure as hell isn’t fooling anyone now. He might have the World Championship but that isn’t going to last. I’ll be the one making sure of that. Then, I will be an undefeated double champion and they will have no choice but to boot Butch Parker’s ass back down to the bottom of the ladder where he belongs. So you know what, Mr. Paperweight Champion? Go ahead and brag about your cheap shots. Talk about the day you landed a single punch on Michael James like it was the best moment of your life. Just do yourself a favor and always keep one thing in mind.
* James takes a few steps forward so viewers have a full frame of his face *
Michael James: That’s the closest you will EVER get to a victory over the Personification of Perfection. See you soon, douche nozzle.
* He moves out of frame for a second and punches the lens causing the promo to cut to a static feed *
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