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| Unaired Manson Heatwave Promo | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 2 2013, 10:03 PM (135 Views) | |
| Berger | Jan 2 2013, 10:03 PM Post #1 |
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Wooooooo!
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This is the unaired promo that was going to shepherd Manson's face turn. This was still a work in progress, I sent it to Bell and Rob asking how they thought it should end, since Rob (Freeman's handler) and I were both unsure what the best way to end it would be, and wrote a temporary ending in the meantime, but neither of them ever got back to me ![]() [The ominous opening strains of "Rooster" by Alice in Chains play over the arena's PA system, soon followed by the doleful "Oooohs" that herald the arrival of the Misery Machine. The lights in the arean fade to a pale blue, and soon the powerful frame of Marcus Manson splits the curtain. Manson's shoulder length black hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, as usual. The 6 foot 9 inch powerhouse wears a decades old, beaten, black leather trench coat over a black t-shirt and blue jeans. The big man stands under the Phoenix-tron for a moment, his hands on his waist, surveying the crowd. After a moment, he scowls, and heads down the aisle towards the ring.] CL: Well, I'm not sure what this is about, Manson's not scheduled to be here tonight. He is coming off a disappointing night at Shattered Dreams. FH: If he knew what was good for him, he'd make a more official, public apology to Uncle Frank for everything he's done to him these past few months. CL: I think it was fairly obvious during the Shattered Dreams Rumble that the issues between Frank and Manson are over. The man made a big point in the build up to Shattered Dreams that he would never apologize for anything he had done in his career, and yet he had to do exactly that to Uncle Frank! I doubt he wants to revisit that situation. [Now in the ring, "Rooster" fades out as Manson grabs a microphone. The crowd is split, as usual. Manson's dedicated fans cheer the mans appearance, some are booing the big man, while others simply wait to see why he's come out to the ring. Manson delivers his famous blood-curdling glare at the crowd. But then... something strange happens... The Misery Machine sighs. He shakes his head from side to side, rubs his face, and then sighs again.] Manson: You know... I've been playin' the psycho monster for so long, it's become second nature to me. But after all these years... it's gettin' kinda tired, don't you think? [The crowd murmurs, surprised at this unexpected turn as Manson speaks with a voice that's not angry or strained... but rather... exhausted?] Manson: Look, folks, I hate to break it to you... but nobody stays as angry as I've acted like for this long. Nobody. [The crowd continues to murmur.] CL: What's going on here? FH: He's done! Uncle Frank broke the Misery Machine! [Manson takes a deep breath. Not a sigh this time, just a long inhalation and exhalation as he works through what he wants to say.] Manson: I've been acting and wrestling like I'm still in New York... and I'm not. And I should have realized that a long time ago. The first thing I did when I got to Phoenix was join up with Rick Marley and WMI. [The crowd BOOOS!] Manson: Yeah, I don't blame you. [The crowd shuts up.] FH: WHAT DID HE JUST SAY!? CL: I'm speechless. Manson: For a long time, you all boo'd me. But lately, some have started to cheer me, and while this is hard for me to admit, It's kinda nice, actually. [Manson Leans on the ropes, scanning the crowd again.] Manson: Look, for the last 14 years I've been the "Misery Machine". I've been pretending to be angrier than I actually am. For a long time, it worked. But lately... [Manson shrugs.] Manson: It's time for me to just be Marcus Manson again. I'm not gonna change my style in the ring, I'm not gonna stop using the heart punch, or stop throwing people into the cheap seats. If I hurt people, I hurt people. I'm ok with that. This is Professional Wrestling. I'm not gonna start wearing kid gloves out here. I'm going to focus on winning matches. Period. [There are quite a few more cheers now than there were when Manson first arrived. He lifts the microphone to speak again but he's interrupted.] AF: Aw, isn't that sweet. [Adrian Freeman emerges from the back, dressed in wrestling gear, to the boos of the crowd. The Australian-born superstar is absent his usual smug grin and is instead just really pissed off. He's got a mic, and he's not afraid to] AF: I've been sitting in the back, watching this parade of inanities you Yanks call a television show, and I just couldn't take it any more. The piece de resistance of all this stupidity, of course, has got to be big bad Marcus Manson -- the Misery Machine! -- coming out and letting us know that deep inside he's a big softie. What's the matter, Marcus? Not selling enough merchandaise? [Freeman stalks towards the ring as Manson just watches and listens.] AF: You say that no one can stay angry their whole career. Well, you know what, Manson? I *am* actually angry. I'm always angry, and I'll keep being angry until I get the respect I deserve. Which is going to be a long time in coming. At Boiling Point, I put on a display of technical brilliance that should go down in the history books. I worked my ass off. And what do I get for it? A round of boos from the fans and another match against goddamn Phoenix. [Freeman stomps up the ring steps and stands on the apron.] But you, Marcus? What reason do you have to be mad? No matter what you do, people love you. You're a big guy, and everyone loves the big men, no matter how talentless. You don't need to know how to apply a headlock. You can just wrestle in stupid gimmick matches and wow people with crude violence. Who needs wrestling when you've got the Meatgrinder? So yeah, you should be happy go lucky. Maybe skip during your entrance. But don't come out here and suggest that deep down everybody else is a Care Bear just like you. [Manson interrupts Freeman before he can go on, or step into the ring.] Manson: Shut up. [The crowd cheers, and Freeman's eyes bug out of his head.] Manson: You're mad? You feel disrespected? You look like you're ready to go, and I may not be dressed to compete, but that's never stopped me before. [Manson removes his trench coat and tosses it into the corner of the ring.] Manson: You want to prove a point, Freeman? Here's your chance. Stop flapping your gums, step through those ropes and SHOW me something. [Freeman stares at Manson, thinking. Marcus tosses his mic down and spreads his arms wide. Freeman shakes his head. Off microphone he says "Not today, big man" and drops off the apron before backing up the aisle.] |
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7:18 PM Jul 10