Re: Starrcade - #1 Contdership: MVP vs. Mr Anderson
Anderson stares a hole through MVP who is brushing the chants off his shoulder and motioning for the gold around his waist. As he does, Anderson begins talking, softly at a whisper at first but progressively louder. All in time with the chants from the crowd...
Anderson: You're an asshole...you're an asshole...you're an asshole...you're an asshole!
The rafters nearly come off the place with most women and children joining in the chant.
This is the problem, THIS is the problem MVP because you think you're better than the rest of us but the reality is you're a thug. You call these people trash? Should I tell these people what you were doing as a kid, the weight you put on the judiciary system, the gangs MVP?
Some 'oohs' from the crowd who know the story whilst MVP sees red, presumably not wishing to acknowledge his non-kayfabe criminal past.
But see there's another difference, I won't be doing that, because I'm an asshole, not a jerk. No-one is entertained by you, people see their worst in you, these assholes see their rich neighbours in you, their bosses in you and they pay to see you get your ass kicked! Luckily, this Sunday, I've been given the pleasure of doing just that!
Anderson smiles to a pop from the crowd.
I'm not a comedian MVP, I'm not trying to be, in case you forgot why you were here in this company, it's because we're meant to be WRESTLERS. This isn't the NBA or the NFL, there's no time for your blingand your big money contracts when the bell rings, there's only time for me to give you a taste of what it's like to be dropped on your head. I doubt it'd be the first time, before you started roaming the streets as a kid I'm sure "momma Porter" dropped you on your head plenty of times.
Anderson smirks and chews his gum, pausing.
MVP...you are fake. You are not fake because your lifestyle is so extraordinary I can't believe it's true because I can. I have to sit around the back listening to everyone rave about you, about the impact you've made. I listen to the higher ups, you know, VINDICATE signing off on that contract by saying "Wow this guys good, he's about to get everything that's coming to him" but how many more dues do I have to pay before I get that, huh? I think management are waiting for me to slip up, to get hurt, so they can parade you as their next champion, someone from this country, someone who isn't a drunk. What they don't seem to realise is...well, how can I put this...I'm not going to slip up. Everyones waiting for Stone Cold Steve Austin *boos* vs Wade Barrett *boos* and sure, it'll be a great match. The guys backstage can prepare all they want for a big showdown between the winner and UWF's most valuable player but I'm an asshole and assholes like to screw things up so when Starrcade's curtain is drawn on Sunday night there will be nothing but a look of realisation on the face of whoever survives the world title match, the realisation that they won't be in the blockbuster, big money drawing main event match with MVP, no, they'll be locking eyes with this asshole, they'll be going one on one with the loudmouth from GREEEEN BAY, WISCONSIN!
The crowd pop and MVP goes to interrupt but before he can, Andersn continues shouting.
THE NEXT UWF CHAMPION, MISTERRRRRRRRRRRRR ANDERSONNN!
Anderson throws the mic to the crowd for them to respond as he smirks at MVP, maintaining eye contact. Before Anderson himself can finish off the trademark, MVP interjects one more time...
Anderson: You're an asshole...you're an asshole...you're an asshole...you're an asshole!
The rafters nearly come off the place with most women and children joining in the chant.
This is the problem, THIS is the problem MVP because you think you're better than the rest of us but the reality is you're a thug. You call these people trash? Should I tell these people what you were doing as a kid, the weight you put on the judiciary system, the gangs MVP?
Some 'oohs' from the crowd who know the story whilst MVP sees red, presumably not wishing to acknowledge his non-kayfabe criminal past.
But see there's another difference, I won't be doing that, because I'm an asshole, not a jerk. No-one is entertained by you, people see their worst in you, these assholes see their rich neighbours in you, their bosses in you and they pay to see you get your ass kicked! Luckily, this Sunday, I've been given the pleasure of doing just that!
Anderson smiles to a pop from the crowd.
I'm not a comedian MVP, I'm not trying to be, in case you forgot why you were here in this company, it's because we're meant to be WRESTLERS. This isn't the NBA or the NFL, there's no time for your blingand your big money contracts when the bell rings, there's only time for me to give you a taste of what it's like to be dropped on your head. I doubt it'd be the first time, before you started roaming the streets as a kid I'm sure "momma Porter" dropped you on your head plenty of times.
Anderson smirks and chews his gum, pausing.
MVP...you are fake. You are not fake because your lifestyle is so extraordinary I can't believe it's true because I can. I have to sit around the back listening to everyone rave about you, about the impact you've made. I listen to the higher ups, you know, VINDICATE signing off on that contract by saying "Wow this guys good, he's about to get everything that's coming to him" but how many more dues do I have to pay before I get that, huh? I think management are waiting for me to slip up, to get hurt, so they can parade you as their next champion, someone from this country, someone who isn't a drunk. What they don't seem to realise is...well, how can I put this...I'm not going to slip up. Everyones waiting for Stone Cold Steve Austin *boos* vs Wade Barrett *boos* and sure, it'll be a great match. The guys backstage can prepare all they want for a big showdown between the winner and UWF's most valuable player but I'm an asshole and assholes like to screw things up so when Starrcade's curtain is drawn on Sunday night there will be nothing but a look of realisation on the face of whoever survives the world title match, the realisation that they won't be in the blockbuster, big money drawing main event match with MVP, no, they'll be locking eyes with this asshole, they'll be going one on one with the loudmouth from GREEEEN BAY, WISCONSIN!
The crowd pop and MVP goes to interrupt but before he can, Andersn continues shouting.
THE NEXT UWF CHAMPION, MISTERRRRRRRRRRRRR ANDERSONNN!
Anderson throws the mic to the crowd for them to respond as he smirks at MVP, maintaining eye contact. Before Anderson himself can finish off the trademark, MVP interjects one more time...