Post by P.K. Jacob-Sterling on Sept 4, 2010 22:01:38 GMT -5
The room is dark, no one's around. Is someone fucking with your T.V. no. Maybe the cable people found out yours was illegal. Whatever the matter you don't see anything. Suddenly the words "This message is paid for by P.K. Jacob-Sterling, younger viewers may not want to watch this." Soon enough, there’s a sound of electrical vibrating. The sound of a light, sooner or later there are footsteps. P.K. walks out from the right, his hands tucked in his jeans. He has a nonchalant swagger in his step. His eyes staring forward, like he was headed to a different direction.
He stopped short, and turned his body towards the camera. His eyes blink twice and soon a big screen lowers down. Nothing’s on it, but you could tell that it would play a big role in his talk time. Suddenly a black chair slides from the left. P.K. sits in it and looks at the camera with a plain expression. He was kind of mad about his start so far. It was good the first week, but after the next, it wasn’t all that good. His eyes wander around, trying to think of something to say. Nothing really came to mind, he just sat, looking at the camera dully like he was some half-brained retard, trying to count to three. Finally, he opened his mouth...
P.K. Jacob Sterling: You know there comes a time in your life, when you sit down, and you think, and you think hard about what you want to do with you life. See, I have that thought in my head all the time. It seems to pop up a lot, since I became a wrestler. I mean, I love this job, I mean you get decent pay, you get fans, you’re a kid’s hero, action figure deals, video game appearances in games, the perks are really awesome.
He paused, rubbing the back of his head with right hand. The perks were great, but in order to get them he’d have to do something great. Something that would go over the top with most people.
P.K. Jacob Sterling: But anyway, let's talk about my opponent uh, Steven Martyn...I think?
A picture of Martyn appears, P.K. looks at it and sighs, rubbing his neck some.
P.K. Jacob Sterling: Okay dude, let's lay down some ground rules okay? I don't know you, you don't know me, all we DO know is that we've got to wrestle each other. Now Steve, dude, before you go off and do some promo about, "I'm the next big thing" or "Oh, look at my oily abs!" let me give you a little warning: If you fuck around I'm going to make you pay. If you even think about taunting me, I'm going to shove my foot so far up your ass, I'm gonna leave an imprint on your penis. See I've realized that...by letting guys like you walk over me, I'm being a bad commodity for Pride.
I don't want that to happen, and I sure as hell don't want you to win. I want this match, I want to win, I'm starving over here dude. See, picture of as a small straving African child. Now you're a white guy from Boston who doesn't even know how to spell safari. Now he's big, he's fat, and he's hungry. So what does he do? He pulled out a big ass turkey club sandwich. Now you're standing near me, you know what's wrong with me, you see me eying your fucking sandwich. BUT you pull away, and you walk off, stuffing your face. You're satisfied, and you left me to starve to death.
Sterling paused and rubbed his nose, he sniffed and leans forward, the camera zooming in.
P.K. Jacob Sterling: So you're sitting there with that fucking sandwich, and I get nothing. Nothing at all, and you're happy. I want hat fucking sandwich, I want this fucking win. I don't want you to be satisfied. I want you to be hurt. Because in this match, you're gonna lose. I'm gonna take that fucking turkey club with the works and I'm gonna munch down on that mofo with my foot on your skull. Steve, I know this sounds strange, I know you think I'm out of my fucking mind, but you have to be in my shoes.
He stops, his face turning serious.
P.K. Jacob Sterling: I can't mess up Steve, if I do, then no one is going to take me seriously. I don't want to be that nerdy exchange student in high school Steve. I want to be the winner, YES, I want to be the winner who gets the glory this time, because I want Pride to SEE...ME! I want them to see P.K. Jacob Sterling, a guy who'll fight anyone, and no matter the risk, no matter the clusterfuck, he comes out on top, ALL the time! Later on tomorrow, I want you to think about this match, REALLY use that ol'noggin and think about what I said. If it got through, then good for you, you took my advice, and let me win this. If it didn't you're gonna get beat...really...really bad. So Steve, make the right choice...for both of us...
P.K. stands up and glares at the picture of Steve Martyn, he looks at the ceiling and claps his hands twice. The lights and the image disappear and P.K. walks off into the darkness. The promo ends and your T.V. goes back to normal. Now you can finally finish watching Alexis Texas take it all in and go to sleep with a sticky belly.
END.
((x.x this is NOT my average...I don't know what the fuck is with me, but I gotta shape up soon...sorry for the shortness...))
He stopped short, and turned his body towards the camera. His eyes blink twice and soon a big screen lowers down. Nothing’s on it, but you could tell that it would play a big role in his talk time. Suddenly a black chair slides from the left. P.K. sits in it and looks at the camera with a plain expression. He was kind of mad about his start so far. It was good the first week, but after the next, it wasn’t all that good. His eyes wander around, trying to think of something to say. Nothing really came to mind, he just sat, looking at the camera dully like he was some half-brained retard, trying to count to three. Finally, he opened his mouth...
P.K. Jacob Sterling: You know there comes a time in your life, when you sit down, and you think, and you think hard about what you want to do with you life. See, I have that thought in my head all the time. It seems to pop up a lot, since I became a wrestler. I mean, I love this job, I mean you get decent pay, you get fans, you’re a kid’s hero, action figure deals, video game appearances in games, the perks are really awesome.
He paused, rubbing the back of his head with right hand. The perks were great, but in order to get them he’d have to do something great. Something that would go over the top with most people.
P.K. Jacob Sterling: But anyway, let's talk about my opponent uh, Steven Martyn...I think?
A picture of Martyn appears, P.K. looks at it and sighs, rubbing his neck some.
P.K. Jacob Sterling: Okay dude, let's lay down some ground rules okay? I don't know you, you don't know me, all we DO know is that we've got to wrestle each other. Now Steve, dude, before you go off and do some promo about, "I'm the next big thing" or "Oh, look at my oily abs!" let me give you a little warning: If you fuck around I'm going to make you pay. If you even think about taunting me, I'm going to shove my foot so far up your ass, I'm gonna leave an imprint on your penis. See I've realized that...by letting guys like you walk over me, I'm being a bad commodity for Pride.
I don't want that to happen, and I sure as hell don't want you to win. I want this match, I want to win, I'm starving over here dude. See, picture of as a small straving African child. Now you're a white guy from Boston who doesn't even know how to spell safari. Now he's big, he's fat, and he's hungry. So what does he do? He pulled out a big ass turkey club sandwich. Now you're standing near me, you know what's wrong with me, you see me eying your fucking sandwich. BUT you pull away, and you walk off, stuffing your face. You're satisfied, and you left me to starve to death.
Sterling paused and rubbed his nose, he sniffed and leans forward, the camera zooming in.
P.K. Jacob Sterling: So you're sitting there with that fucking sandwich, and I get nothing. Nothing at all, and you're happy. I want hat fucking sandwich, I want this fucking win. I don't want you to be satisfied. I want you to be hurt. Because in this match, you're gonna lose. I'm gonna take that fucking turkey club with the works and I'm gonna munch down on that mofo with my foot on your skull. Steve, I know this sounds strange, I know you think I'm out of my fucking mind, but you have to be in my shoes.
He stops, his face turning serious.
P.K. Jacob Sterling: I can't mess up Steve, if I do, then no one is going to take me seriously. I don't want to be that nerdy exchange student in high school Steve. I want to be the winner, YES, I want to be the winner who gets the glory this time, because I want Pride to SEE...ME! I want them to see P.K. Jacob Sterling, a guy who'll fight anyone, and no matter the risk, no matter the clusterfuck, he comes out on top, ALL the time! Later on tomorrow, I want you to think about this match, REALLY use that ol'noggin and think about what I said. If it got through, then good for you, you took my advice, and let me win this. If it didn't you're gonna get beat...really...really bad. So Steve, make the right choice...for both of us...
P.K. stands up and glares at the picture of Steve Martyn, he looks at the ceiling and claps his hands twice. The lights and the image disappear and P.K. walks off into the darkness. The promo ends and your T.V. goes back to normal. Now you can finally finish watching Alexis Texas take it all in and go to sleep with a sticky belly.
END.
((x.x this is NOT my average...I don't know what the fuck is with me, but I gotta shape up soon...sorry for the shortness...))