Post by AlphaBeta on Aug 6, 2013 13:34:36 GMT -5
The regular schedule program returns from commercial break, and as the camera pans around the arena, the crowd is going ballistic in a fit of excitement. One end of the arena screams "GREAT!” and upon hearing this, the other end hollers back as if on cue, "DANE!" Sure enough, as the camera focuses on the ring, standing there in the middle was the man once referred to as "The Great Dane" Benson Dane, with a slightly modified look to him. His face no longer was cleanly shaven and well kept, instead his jaw line and cheeks were covered by a massive amount of facial hair. His hair was still well kept, but that was probably the only thing. He looked tired and beat, like he just rolled out of bed after a weeklong bender. He was dressed that way too. His black V-neck shirt was covered up by a black leather jacket, and his pants consisted of old jeans with a hole in the right knee.
In his left hand he held a microphone, the preferred weapon of choice for many superstars in the industry. The microphone always had the potential to slice someone in half and leave them defeated. He raises the microphone to his lips, and begins.
I'm back... I'm back... Yes, I am back.
The crowd roars at the sound of that. Before disappearing unannounced, Benson was well on his way to potentially becoming one of the biggest names in Viral Pro Wrestling, if he wasn't already there. He was very much a crowd favorite, especially for the young with impressionable minds. Whether it was him in the ring hitting Steel City Slaughter House's, or it was him on the microphone, Benson was really easy to love.
That in mind, it was quite odd to hear him after the crowd's reaction...
Shut... The... Hell... UP!
The crowd goes from deafening to mute in mere seconds; unsure if what he said literally just came out of his mouth.
I'm not here for you anymore. I put my heart and soul into every match so that you people had a great show, and always walked away feeling like you got your money's worth, if not more. I always pushed through pain and suffering, blood and agony, so that you would come back next week. I ALWAYS did this, and not once did anyone think about me.
Hey, Benson, where did you go?
Where did I go? I injured my shoulder and had to get it repaired. I had to rehab it, and make sure it would continue to work pushing forward. So, while I was gone, who all thought about me? Who wrote me a letter, letting me know that they missed my efforts, that they missed my drive and ambition? Was it you, the fans? Was it the people who paid weekly to come to the events that cheered my name and bought my shirts? No, it wasn't. You know who did? Ashley Silva. Yeah, that's right; I'm an Ashley Silva guy. I can appreciate people who give me a chance, and that's what she did for me. I could have walked, and inked up a contract with one of the other companies across the globe. Canada's getting massive, Mexico and Japan have always been huge, or hell, I coulda stayed here in the states just to spite you all.... But I'm here for Ashley Silva.
You all wanted me to be your hero, but when I went down, you disregarded me like a piece of corroding garbage on the side of a busy highway, where nobody wants to stop to help out. And for that, for the fact you all forgot about me, you're all dead to me. I'm not here for you fans anymore.
With what seemed like a short and sweet "fuck you", Benson drops the mic, and with a narcissistic smile sprawled out encompassing his whole face, he heads for the back.
In his left hand he held a microphone, the preferred weapon of choice for many superstars in the industry. The microphone always had the potential to slice someone in half and leave them defeated. He raises the microphone to his lips, and begins.
I'm back... I'm back... Yes, I am back.
The crowd roars at the sound of that. Before disappearing unannounced, Benson was well on his way to potentially becoming one of the biggest names in Viral Pro Wrestling, if he wasn't already there. He was very much a crowd favorite, especially for the young with impressionable minds. Whether it was him in the ring hitting Steel City Slaughter House's, or it was him on the microphone, Benson was really easy to love.
That in mind, it was quite odd to hear him after the crowd's reaction...
Shut... The... Hell... UP!
The crowd goes from deafening to mute in mere seconds; unsure if what he said literally just came out of his mouth.
I'm not here for you anymore. I put my heart and soul into every match so that you people had a great show, and always walked away feeling like you got your money's worth, if not more. I always pushed through pain and suffering, blood and agony, so that you would come back next week. I ALWAYS did this, and not once did anyone think about me.
Hey, Benson, where did you go?
Where did I go? I injured my shoulder and had to get it repaired. I had to rehab it, and make sure it would continue to work pushing forward. So, while I was gone, who all thought about me? Who wrote me a letter, letting me know that they missed my efforts, that they missed my drive and ambition? Was it you, the fans? Was it the people who paid weekly to come to the events that cheered my name and bought my shirts? No, it wasn't. You know who did? Ashley Silva. Yeah, that's right; I'm an Ashley Silva guy. I can appreciate people who give me a chance, and that's what she did for me. I could have walked, and inked up a contract with one of the other companies across the globe. Canada's getting massive, Mexico and Japan have always been huge, or hell, I coulda stayed here in the states just to spite you all.... But I'm here for Ashley Silva.
You all wanted me to be your hero, but when I went down, you disregarded me like a piece of corroding garbage on the side of a busy highway, where nobody wants to stop to help out. And for that, for the fact you all forgot about me, you're all dead to me. I'm not here for you fans anymore.
With what seemed like a short and sweet "fuck you", Benson drops the mic, and with a narcissistic smile sprawled out encompassing his whole face, he heads for the back.