Post by Justin on Nov 27, 2020 17:56:38 GMT -5
Jesus titty-fucking Christ.
If I have to sit here for the next two weeks and listen to every Tom, Dick, and Dylan that fumble-fucked their way into this Rumble drop twelve half-a-minute hot takes about how they’re gonna beat up twelve other guys and list off every half-assed accomplishment they’ve ever pulled outta their ass, as if any of it somehow matters, I’m gonna be sick to my goddamned stomach.
I fucking mean it.
I hate to call anybody generic, but if your entire promotional blitz leading into this, the biggest match in Northern Pro’s burgeoning history, is gonna be a listing of entrants and a brief recap of shit that’s already been said to them a dozen times by a dozen other hacks, then please stay at home come the 17th so I don’t have to embarrass you on international pay-per-view.
Save yourself the humiliation, nah’mean?
And don’t come in here all tiny-dicks swingin’ trying to disparage the good name of Gus Arnold and NPW just because you wouldn’t know a professional operation if it fucked in you in the ass and stole your girlfriend, mmkay? I know good and well a couple of you schmucks are used to getting your paychecks from an unheated trailer, but here in the great white North not only can we afford heat, we can even hire people who know how to breathe in through their noses and out through their mouths. I understand that you've likely never been exposed to such luxury, so you naturally want to lash out, but it has to be embarrassing; like a child realizing Santa is shafting them with towels and socks while the other kids get a PlayStation 5 and a pile of brand new games.
Nobody here, least of all the fans, the office, or the talent, gives one-quarter of one fuck about how big of a deal that some of you people might be in whatever outlaw bullshit tent revival mudshow that you came from. Save that shit for the comedy promotions and the million man rumbles on the Network shows…
Miss me with that shit, capiche? Nobody in this fucking match outside of maybe my associate Jesse Jamester wants to compare resume’s with me, and as I’ve already said once nobody wants to fuckin’ hear it! Do something here! Do something now!
Do something in Northern Pro Wrestling.
Do something to me.
I’m the fucking Big Bad Wolf in Canada. Not because I was born here, hell I haven’t even spent a majority of my career here. I’m the fuckin’ villian because I say so, and because none of you little rats have got the brains, the skills, or the balls that it takes to do anything about it. Canada belongs to me, Eric Dane, and to those precious few with the good sense to stand by my side. If you don’t like it then please, by all means, do something about it! Since we’ve already established that you can’t then that leaves you with three possible directions from here on out.
1.) Live with it.
2.) Learn to love it.
3.) Fuck right off.
Am I making myself clear?
Have I read the room properly?
Now I’m sure that at least two, maybe even four or five of you idiots, are gonna spring up and pop off about how I’m just a big ol’ coward and my friends are big ol’ cowards and everything we do is unfair and unsportsmanlike…
Fuck, I can’t believe I have to explain this, again, but here we go. If you fucking morons want sportsmanship, put on a pair of gloves and learn the sweet science. If you want your opponents, especially me, to worry about whether or not something I do is fair then you’re in the wrong goddamn business. This is professional WRESTLING you ignorant twats, not mixed-martial-arts! The rules were written to be broken! The referees all have blindspots on purpose you fucking third-graders don’t make me goddamned spell it out for you!
All that matters is what the record book says.
Wins and Losses.
There are no asterisks and there are none of the proverbial buts that you boys are so good at hiding behind. The only butts that matter in this business are the ones that I can jampack into an arena twenty-four inches at a time!
Well.
You know.
Eventually.
When the pandemic is over.
But I digress. The matter at hand is this, Eric Dane is going to win this Championship Rumble and become the North American Double Crown Champion. The hows and the whys don’t matter anymore today than they will once the final bell has rung. Understand that I’ll do whatever it takes to win. ANYTHING! Hook or crook! Any means necessary! I don’t give a shit which cliche you people need to jam upside your head to figure it out, just do it, because later on when you’re crying because I jabbed a thumb in your eye or because I had Scott Steel powerbomb you into the third row I’m not gonna waste any effort listening to you bitch and I sure as shit won’t be losing any sleep!
So take heed, every knuckle-dragging last one of you…
Eric Dane is better than you at professional wrestling.
Eric Dane is smarter than you in every quantifiable way.
Eric Dane has bigger, meaner, more fiercely loyal friends than you will ever find.
Come December 17th, Eric Dane becomes champion again.
Canada.
North America.
Double Crown.
Call it what you want.
Just don’t forget to call me the champ.
If I have to sit here for the next two weeks and listen to every Tom, Dick, and Dylan that fumble-fucked their way into this Rumble drop twelve half-a-minute hot takes about how they’re gonna beat up twelve other guys and list off every half-assed accomplishment they’ve ever pulled outta their ass, as if any of it somehow matters, I’m gonna be sick to my goddamned stomach.
I fucking mean it.
I hate to call anybody generic, but if your entire promotional blitz leading into this, the biggest match in Northern Pro’s burgeoning history, is gonna be a listing of entrants and a brief recap of shit that’s already been said to them a dozen times by a dozen other hacks, then please stay at home come the 17th so I don’t have to embarrass you on international pay-per-view.
Save yourself the humiliation, nah’mean?
And don’t come in here all tiny-dicks swingin’ trying to disparage the good name of Gus Arnold and NPW just because you wouldn’t know a professional operation if it fucked in you in the ass and stole your girlfriend, mmkay? I know good and well a couple of you schmucks are used to getting your paychecks from an unheated trailer, but here in the great white North not only can we afford heat, we can even hire people who know how to breathe in through their noses and out through their mouths. I understand that you've likely never been exposed to such luxury, so you naturally want to lash out, but it has to be embarrassing; like a child realizing Santa is shafting them with towels and socks while the other kids get a PlayStation 5 and a pile of brand new games.
Nobody here, least of all the fans, the office, or the talent, gives one-quarter of one fuck about how big of a deal that some of you people might be in whatever outlaw bullshit tent revival mudshow that you came from. Save that shit for the comedy promotions and the million man rumbles on the Network shows…
Miss me with that shit, capiche? Nobody in this fucking match outside of maybe my associate Jesse Jamester wants to compare resume’s with me, and as I’ve already said once nobody wants to fuckin’ hear it! Do something here! Do something now!
Do something in Northern Pro Wrestling.
Do something to me.
I’m the fucking Big Bad Wolf in Canada. Not because I was born here, hell I haven’t even spent a majority of my career here. I’m the fuckin’ villian because I say so, and because none of you little rats have got the brains, the skills, or the balls that it takes to do anything about it. Canada belongs to me, Eric Dane, and to those precious few with the good sense to stand by my side. If you don’t like it then please, by all means, do something about it! Since we’ve already established that you can’t then that leaves you with three possible directions from here on out.
1.) Live with it.
2.) Learn to love it.
3.) Fuck right off.
Am I making myself clear?
Have I read the room properly?
Now I’m sure that at least two, maybe even four or five of you idiots, are gonna spring up and pop off about how I’m just a big ol’ coward and my friends are big ol’ cowards and everything we do is unfair and unsportsmanlike…
Fuck, I can’t believe I have to explain this, again, but here we go. If you fucking morons want sportsmanship, put on a pair of gloves and learn the sweet science. If you want your opponents, especially me, to worry about whether or not something I do is fair then you’re in the wrong goddamn business. This is professional WRESTLING you ignorant twats, not mixed-martial-arts! The rules were written to be broken! The referees all have blindspots on purpose you fucking third-graders don’t make me goddamned spell it out for you!
All that matters is what the record book says.
Wins and Losses.
There are no asterisks and there are none of the proverbial buts that you boys are so good at hiding behind. The only butts that matter in this business are the ones that I can jampack into an arena twenty-four inches at a time!
Well.
You know.
Eventually.
When the pandemic is over.
But I digress. The matter at hand is this, Eric Dane is going to win this Championship Rumble and become the North American Double Crown Champion. The hows and the whys don’t matter anymore today than they will once the final bell has rung. Understand that I’ll do whatever it takes to win. ANYTHING! Hook or crook! Any means necessary! I don’t give a shit which cliche you people need to jam upside your head to figure it out, just do it, because later on when you’re crying because I jabbed a thumb in your eye or because I had Scott Steel powerbomb you into the third row I’m not gonna waste any effort listening to you bitch and I sure as shit won’t be losing any sleep!
So take heed, every knuckle-dragging last one of you…
Eric Dane is better than you at professional wrestling.
Eric Dane is smarter than you in every quantifiable way.
Eric Dane has bigger, meaner, more fiercely loyal friends than you will ever find.
Come December 17th, Eric Dane becomes champion again.
Canada.
North America.
Double Crown.
Call it what you want.
Just don’t forget to call me the champ.
