Short And To The Point....
Feb 21, 2012 20:41:27 GMT -5
Post by Chandler Scott on Feb 21, 2012 20:41:27 GMT -5
[Preston can be seen in the living room of his townhouse. He sits down near a desk with three copies of hard cover books in front of him. But before he can divulge into the text, he turns to the camera and flashes a smirk that reeks of arrogance. He then leans back in his chair. Preston gives the camera his full attention.]
Preston:
“Do you even understand how much of a burden you are to me right now, Chris Loki?” asks Preston, who is clearly annoyed that he has to be bothered with even cutting this promo. “Do you understand how much you are bothering me right now? I could be reading one of the many fine pieces of literature on my bookshelf, immersing myself in the stories of the most talented writers of all-time. I could be out having a drink with a New York socialite. Or simple put, I could be resting my mind as I soak in a nice warm bubble bath. But instead, Chris, I'm here talking about you,” says Preston with disappointment, clearly unimpressed with the 'competition', for lack of a better word. “ And why am I wasting this valuable breath on the likes of you? Well, from what I was told, I had to. I “had” to speak on this match because apparently somebody's tongue got caught by a stray cat. I “had” to speak on this match because somebody wouldn't. Hmm, I wonder who that could be?” Preston looks off into the distance and taps his chin with his index finger, pretending to ponder over a question that clearly has an obvious answer.“It doesn't really matter because all that matters is this: Chris Loki, you have a huge opportunity placed in front of you. It's not everyday that you can say you stepped into the ring with a Harvard elite. It's not everyday that you can say you took part in a contest against a man of my intellect. Loki, you have the opportunity to rebound from your embarrassing performance in Newark. You get to bounce back from that terrible loss by getting a victory over perhaps the greatest athlete to ever grace a Frontier ring. Chris Loki, tomorrow night in Williamsport, you and I will face off. And you will have your chance at redemption. You will have your chance to start anew. Unfortunately for you, you will do absolutely nothing with it.”
“You see, a man like you doesn't know how to take advantage of an opportunity. Instead of hopping on that gift horse and riding it to greener pastures, you'd rather look that gift horse in the mouth. Idiot!,” utters Preston with contempt. “I shouldn't even be giving you this much of my attention because, let's be frank, a man like you isn't worth my time. A man like you doesn't deserve my undivided attention. But most importantly, a man like you doesn't deserve my respect! Because let's make one thing perfectly clear, I have zero respect for you. Zero, zilch, none. Tomorrow night at Wednesday Night Combat, I will show everyone in Williamsport exactly why you don't deserve to be in the same ring as me. I'm going to embarrass you, Loki. Though then again, you show up to the shows in your little brother's Halloween costume in the middle of February, so you're already a walking punchline. But instead of using you as a punchline, Loki, I'll make you my personal punching bag. I will wrestle circles around you simply because I can. I will think three and four moves ahead of you simply because your IQ is miniscule compared to mine. And once I am done wrestling circles around you, once I'm done breaking you down, I will take you by the arm and I will procure my crossface chickenwing. And once I lock it in, you will have no choice but to tap out. And trust me, Loki, you will tap out. Now while I will come close to ripping you shoulder right out of its socket, I will succeed in ripping off something else – you're mask. See, during our glorified sparring session, I will expose you as the sub par wrestler that you are. And once I get the submission victory, I will rip that mask off and expose you for the joke that you truly are.
Chris Loki, the pleasure will be all yours.....
[The scene fades to crimson, followed by the Harvard “H”.]
Preston:
“Do you even understand how much of a burden you are to me right now, Chris Loki?” asks Preston, who is clearly annoyed that he has to be bothered with even cutting this promo. “Do you understand how much you are bothering me right now? I could be reading one of the many fine pieces of literature on my bookshelf, immersing myself in the stories of the most talented writers of all-time. I could be out having a drink with a New York socialite. Or simple put, I could be resting my mind as I soak in a nice warm bubble bath. But instead, Chris, I'm here talking about you,” says Preston with disappointment, clearly unimpressed with the 'competition', for lack of a better word. “ And why am I wasting this valuable breath on the likes of you? Well, from what I was told, I had to. I “had” to speak on this match because apparently somebody's tongue got caught by a stray cat. I “had” to speak on this match because somebody wouldn't. Hmm, I wonder who that could be?” Preston looks off into the distance and taps his chin with his index finger, pretending to ponder over a question that clearly has an obvious answer.“It doesn't really matter because all that matters is this: Chris Loki, you have a huge opportunity placed in front of you. It's not everyday that you can say you stepped into the ring with a Harvard elite. It's not everyday that you can say you took part in a contest against a man of my intellect. Loki, you have the opportunity to rebound from your embarrassing performance in Newark. You get to bounce back from that terrible loss by getting a victory over perhaps the greatest athlete to ever grace a Frontier ring. Chris Loki, tomorrow night in Williamsport, you and I will face off. And you will have your chance at redemption. You will have your chance to start anew. Unfortunately for you, you will do absolutely nothing with it.”
“You see, a man like you doesn't know how to take advantage of an opportunity. Instead of hopping on that gift horse and riding it to greener pastures, you'd rather look that gift horse in the mouth. Idiot!,” utters Preston with contempt. “I shouldn't even be giving you this much of my attention because, let's be frank, a man like you isn't worth my time. A man like you doesn't deserve my undivided attention. But most importantly, a man like you doesn't deserve my respect! Because let's make one thing perfectly clear, I have zero respect for you. Zero, zilch, none. Tomorrow night at Wednesday Night Combat, I will show everyone in Williamsport exactly why you don't deserve to be in the same ring as me. I'm going to embarrass you, Loki. Though then again, you show up to the shows in your little brother's Halloween costume in the middle of February, so you're already a walking punchline. But instead of using you as a punchline, Loki, I'll make you my personal punching bag. I will wrestle circles around you simply because I can. I will think three and four moves ahead of you simply because your IQ is miniscule compared to mine. And once I am done wrestling circles around you, once I'm done breaking you down, I will take you by the arm and I will procure my crossface chickenwing. And once I lock it in, you will have no choice but to tap out. And trust me, Loki, you will tap out. Now while I will come close to ripping you shoulder right out of its socket, I will succeed in ripping off something else – you're mask. See, during our glorified sparring session, I will expose you as the sub par wrestler that you are. And once I get the submission victory, I will rip that mask off and expose you for the joke that you truly are.
Chris Loki, the pleasure will be all yours.....
[The scene fades to crimson, followed by the Harvard “H”.]