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Legacy Promo.
Topic Started: Mar 14 2010, 09:57 PM (59 Views)
BLo
Advanced Member
[ *  *  * ]
[I posted this promo over on the MCW forum. Enjoy.]

[align=center]II :: Two Years Ago. :: II

Most pro wrestlers strive to forge their own legacies. What’s a legacy? For most of society, legacy is defined by what you’ve accomplished. If you’re the son of a billionaire, you patiently wait in vein for your daddy to pass on his billion dollar legacy to you. For another segment of society, legacy isn’t defined by money. If a person is fortunate enough to have been held in high esteem, like Martin Luther King; major facilities are named in their honor. For an even smaller segment of the world’s population, the true meaning of legacy is the values and principles passed down from generation to generation. Military strategist have benefited well from Sun Tzu’s “Art of War.” Power hungry dictators have achieved greatness by reading Nicilo Machiavelli’s “The Prince.” For Brittany Lohan, her trek through the world of pro wrestling was spawned from the counter-culture teaching of Randolph James.

Randolph James, better known as Randy’s Just Perfect; is an American born wrestler who competed for most of his career in Japan. He appreciated the Japanese die hard love for the sport. He respected how the owners never veered their companies in the sports entertainment direction. Randy did what he enjoyed most, putting his body in danger every night knowing at the end of the day his blood-sweat and tears were appreciated. He would have never gotten the same respect in America where if you’re not a former 16 time champion or an entertainment maven you were written off as a glorified mid carder.

Lohan didn’t care about Randy’s status. What she saw in Randy she saw in herself. Randy has a reputation for being one of the most sadistic, gutsiest competitors in the industry. In ROPE three years ago, Randy found himself in a war against the near unstoppable Paul Atmos. In a Last Man Standing match for the ages, both men ripped into one another. Randy would not stay down. Paul punished him, he came close to ending Randy’s career. With the will of an entire army, Randolph James fought until his war torn body wouldn’t obey his will to compete. On that night Randy, who was booed mainly for his outspoken nature; earned a standing ovation from the Ring of Pride and Excellence fans.

On this Monday afternoon, Randy and B-Lo were by there lonesome; downstairs in a darkened boiler room. They sat next to each other, seated on two brick red crates. Randy dawned a black leather jacket, black Metallica t-shirt; denim blue jeans and ghost white sneakers. Brittany was wearing black jeans and an Oakland Raiders jersey.

“Brittany. I could teach you every move I know. Which isn’t much because I never gave a damn about putting on no wrestling clinic. And even if I did, I wouldn’t bore you with all that.”

“So what are you going to teach me?” Brittany asked curiously.

“One of my pet peeves about the business is how these morons preach about how becoming champion means everything. How if you’re not in the business to become World Champion, get the hell out. There’s more to wrestling then wearing a gold belt.” Randy said. Being around the business for seventeen years, Randy has seen it all. He has witnessed career after career coming to an end because of some of his peers become golddiggers. He didn’t want the same thing happening to his star pupil.

Brittany shot her mentor a curious gaze. “What’s wrong with that? I thought becoming champion was the point. How will I know how dominant I am if I don’t win a championship?

“So you meaning to tell me, if you don’t win the Women’s Champion, you believe your career won’t mean anything?”

“Damn right. Becoming Women’s Champion is my life Randy! I was sooo close last year. I had that bitch September where I wanted her. If I didn’t climb the ropes.-- ”

“You took a risk.” Randy said cutting her off. He placed his right hand on her left shoulder. If looks could murder entire nations, Randy would’ve have been the first to die. Ignoring her resistance to his affection, Randy continued. “Don’t beat yourself up kid. You might become champion one day but that should not be your main objective. Your main goal should be sheding yourself of this ‘championship is my life’ bullshit.” He took a moment to catch his breath. “I don’t want you becoming like everyone else. A championship is no more then a status symbol. The only morons who believe becoming champion means more then it should are egomaniacs looking to prove their status to the world.”

Lohan swiped Randy’s hand off shoulder. She rose to her feet in a fit of minotaurian rage. Giving Randy an expression that could sink a thousand ships, she said… “So you’re calling me a moron?”

“I am.” Randy said, unmoved by B-Lo’s defensiveness.

“I am not a moron!!”

“You are if you believe becoming champion means more then it is.” Randy calmly rose to his feet. Shooting his apprentice a gaze lethal enough to dissolve the polar ice caps, he says. “Look. I’ve seen it all. I’ve seen rookies waltz into an organizations with blind ambition in their eyes. They con themselves to believing winning a World Championship validates their greatness when the truth is they’re perfect as they are. Championships, fame; money will never validate your internal worth. Understand?”

“So. You’re telling me winning championships is wrong?” Brittany asked.

Randy shook his head. “No Brittany. What I’m saying is you may never win a championship. That’s a tough pill to swallow but the reality is… most wrestlers never fulfill their superficial dreams. I’m advising you to do as I did… set your mind on becoming bigger then a title. You don’t need a championship to validate your status. Now tell me. Do you need the Women’s Champion to believe you’re the most dominant female?”

Lohan took a moment to ponder Randy’s insightful words. When Brittany was released after a five year prison sentence, she saw professional wrestling as a vehicle to satisfy her sadistic urges. When she found herself in prime position to beat September for the VWA Women’s Champion, she couldn’t help but imagine what becoming Women’s Champion would mean to her legacy. But here was Randy challenging everything she believed in. Finally ready to respond, Lohan said confidently “No. And I don’t need a championship to maim others.”

“If you want… focus on becoming the most dominant, the most relentless, and the most dangerous female competitor in wrestling history. In other words… define yourself. Don’t believe becoming champion defines who and what you are.”

“I never thought about it like that.”

“No one ever does Brittany. But it’s ok.”

There was an awkward silence between them. What more was there left to say? Unexpected to Randy, B-Lo lunged at him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She squeezed her mentor for dear life. Randy didn’t hesitate to hug her back.

Brittany says. “You’re aware of my history with men. They never treated me with the respect I deserve but I need to let you know, I trust you completely. I believe you have my best interest at heart. Thanks for looking out for me.”

“Your welcome B.”

Randy is still sitting on the sidelines, his desire to return to the squared circle is dimmer then a slowly fading candle. In his heart of hearts, he sleeps better at night knowing the lessons he learned from his seventeen year odyssey lives on through Brittany Lohan.

==

[Has B-Lo lost two Livewire’s in a row? She has. She’s aware that the fans, Livewire’s backstage personnel and her opponents have written her off. They are under the impression B-Lo’s chances of winning are dead to rights. She’s aware her legions of doubters are betting their mortgages on “The Last Action Hero” winning the battle royal. If Lohan has anything to do about it, she’s making sure millions of wrestling fans lose their homes on the 17th. She’s at her most dangerous when the world doubts her abilities. There unfounded doubts ignite a strong desire in her to prove there lack of faith wrong.

Brittany stares into the camera lens. Her promo location is the same as last time. The boiler room is like her kingdom of heaven. The dimness, the uneasiness of the atmosphere; the nastiness represents everything she’s about. She situates herself so she’s comfortable on the red crate she’s sitting on. Scowling into the camera, Brittany parts her lips, now ready to tell the wrestling world what’s on her sadistic mind.]


When I look at the Global Championship, I’m taken back to the days when I wasn’t a blood thirsty, sadistic, loathing; carnivorous bounty hunter. I remember my mother dragging me to church, she’d prop me on her arthritic knees to “enjoy” another useless weekly sermon. On this day, Pastor Thompson preached about The Holy Grail. According to legend, The Grail could’ve been a wine glass Jesus sipped from during the Last Supper. My Pastor said The Grail possessed mystical powers. Even as a child I thought the Grail Legend was hogwash. It’s a mystical fairy tale Christians con themselves into believing. But Christianity isn’t the only victim of this pathetic Grail legend, from generation to generation every religion and mythology created their own grail legend. You can count one more institution to fall victim to the bullshit… professional wrestling.

We’ve been brain washed by trainers, mentors, fans; play by play guys and former wrestlers who believe the World Heavyweight Championship is our Holy Grail. We were conned to believe becoming Global Champion means you’re a star, that wearing the ten pounds of gold means you’re the best wrestler in the world. We’re blinded by the illusion that possessing the “awesome” power of the Global Championship morphs you into a legend. Sound familiar? It’s the same shit every religion and mythology rams down our throats.

I don’t need the Global Championship to define who I am. With or without it, I’m the most dominant female in professional wrestling history. My relentlessness, my unbridled passion to maim; my level of bloodlust is unmatched. No woman in this industry is better then me on my worse day. I am who I am without caring about winning the Holy Grail of Professional Wrestling.

I’ll tell you what the Global Championship is. A carrot dangling on a string. Know what that makes all of you? Donkeys trudging along the open field, chasing a goddamn carrot, hoping one day you’ll feast upon it. When you do, there will be another carrot, another illusion to chase. You’ll claim victims. You’ll end careers. You’ll maim your competition just to get what you need but in the big picture you’ll ignore the truth. Face it, you’re all slaves, your desire for win the Holy Grail makes Motor City Wrestling richer. Your willingness to claim souls entertains these worthless fans who don’t have the guts to do what we do.

On Thursday, March 17th, ten of us, including myself; will be thrown in qualifying matches to decide the four competitors who will compete for the vacant “Holy Grail” at D-Day. Faith wants to reassert her dominance; Andrew Mosh and Karl Durham need the Global Championship to promote their mini-series and movie careers respectively. But what about me? What’s my agenda? It’s simple boys. When I step into the battle royal, my intention is to become your killer of hope. Your killer of dreams. I will become your worst nightmare.

What I want is for you three to blame me for crushing your dreams. I need you to watch to the Carnage Chamber, seething in jealousy because it could’ve been you instead of me. That’s what Brittany wants. That’s what Brittany needs.

Faith… I don’t give a damn about your past. Karl… who cares if your sheep believe you’re the favorite. Andrew… I could give a rats ass about you period. The bottom line is, all three of you are out of your league and the sooner you accept that, the less getting your dreams crushed by the most dominant female in pro wrestling is going to feel.

Oh. I can’t forget…

It’s open season on all you bitches!


[She sports a sinister grin that stretches from ear to ear. Despite the obvious “blemish” against her dominance, she isn't lacking in the confidence. She rises to her feet, turns her back to the camera and saunters away,without a care in the world. The scene fades to black.][/align]
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