Post by robriot on Jun 28, 2022 7:29:23 GMT -5
"People keep asking me why. That’s the question I’ve been asked over and over again since Legacy 3. It’s a good question, but it’s also a question with a very simple answer.”
Rob Riot sits on a wooden stool, idly batting a naked lightbulb back and forth above his head, occasionally casting half of his face into shadows as he does so. He's stripped to the waist and still bears a few of the marks of his run-ins with The Dark Stars and Donzig-gun. This anonymous, dark space is where Riot goes to think. It's also - on occasion - where he goes to record his thoughts and share them with the world.
"Why, Rob, are you starting another fight? Why would you add more to your plate when that plate is already spilling over? You've got the tag team titles to defend. You've got to watch Fowler's back as world champion. You've got to watch Windsor's back and make sure Havok doesn't try to punk him out again with his stooges. Hell, you've got those steroid-bloated mongoloid soldiers from Donzig-gun breathing down your neck. Why - why in the world - would you voluntarily go and start a fight with Ronnie Long?"
He grabs the lightbulb, stopping it from swinging momentarily. Fully illuminated, he leans forward a little on his stool.
“Answer: Because Ronnie needs to be stopped. HEY! RONNIE! Listen to me very carefully. You don’t know it yet, but this is personal.”
Riot mimes pointing at Long's eyes with two outstretched fingers and then points those fingers back at his own eyes - the universally-recognised gesture for 'I'm watching you.'
"I know how much you loved NPW, Ronnie, so I'm going to presume a little of what I say is familiar to you because I've said it before when we were there. I look at you, and I see something of me. That might sound like a strange thing to say to an older guy, but hear me out. Neither of us knows when to get off this ride. Both of us keep coming back for that one last run, that one last world title, that one last deep breath standing at the top of the mountain. Now, me? I’m almost there. I’m co-holder of the only world tag team championship that matters. I’m standing side by side with the only world heavyweight wrestling champion that matters. I might be pushing 40, but I know my dream is still rooted in reality. You? You’re a fantasist.”
He snorts, taking a moment to run a hand across his shaved head before shaking it in disdain.
"You're so far over the hill you can't even see it anymore, and you're close to becoming a parody of yourself. I know how people used to speak about you, Ronnie. I watched wrestling during your heyday. Hell, I wrestled during your heyday. People said you were a good man - perhaps even a hero to many. Now? You're twisted. You're bitter. You're a heartbeat away from being a broken-down old pro who sits at home and starts a podcast pissing on the new generation because you can't hang anymore, but you're not quite there yet. You're still telling yourself that at the age of forty and however much change you're carrying, you're still capable of carrying a banner and running the show. I look at you, and I see what I'm in danger of becoming if I fail. A man who doesn't know when to stop. A man who doesn't know when the tune's stopped playing, and it's time to go home. A man so consumed with clinging on to the past that he can't see the present, and he's lost sight of the future. Actually, I can boil this down to what I said at the start of this little soliloquy, Ronnie, I look at you, and I see failure. Not any old failure, though, MY failure."
He pauses for a second. That might have been an accidental confession. Accordingly, he takes a breath and composes himself before he moves on.
"You're wondering what I mean by that, so I'll tell you. I have dreams about this business, but I also have nightmares. I dream of that one last golden run. I have nightmares about chasing it for too long and outstaying my welcome. To put that another way, I have nightmares about becoming you. About the bitterness consuming me to such an extent that nothing else matters anymore, and I'm still dragging my broken carcass in the ring and disgracing my legacy because it's all I've got left. If that ever happened to me, Ronnie, I would want someone to come and stop me. I'd want someone to strike me down so completely, so decisively, that I have to stare reality in the face and realise that it's time to stop. I would want someone - someone good - to give me the chance to go out on my shield after being put down one last time. So that's why we're here."
A very brief clip of Legacy 3 plays of Riot patting Long on the chest and looking him in the eye before walking past him. When it’s over, we’re returned to Riot. He’s even closer to the camera than he was before.
"I don't hate you, Ronnie. I'm not doing this because I see you as a threat or because I want you out of my way. I'm doing this purely because someone has to stop you and save you from yourself. You come in here with your NPW this, XHF that crap. Both your feet planted firmly in the past because you daren't look forward. Well, I'm the man who's going to twist your neck and make you look. I'm going to be the man who knocks the Ronnie Long comeback train off the tracks and sends it to the scrapyard because I care about the legacy of Ronnie Long more than you do. You can think of that as a professional courtesy or not, but you're still going to accept it. When that final bell tolls at Legacy 4, Ronnie Long, it tolls for thee."
Riot reaches up and pulls out the lightbulb, plunging us into darkness and ending this promo.
Rob Riot sits on a wooden stool, idly batting a naked lightbulb back and forth above his head, occasionally casting half of his face into shadows as he does so. He's stripped to the waist and still bears a few of the marks of his run-ins with The Dark Stars and Donzig-gun. This anonymous, dark space is where Riot goes to think. It's also - on occasion - where he goes to record his thoughts and share them with the world.
"Why, Rob, are you starting another fight? Why would you add more to your plate when that plate is already spilling over? You've got the tag team titles to defend. You've got to watch Fowler's back as world champion. You've got to watch Windsor's back and make sure Havok doesn't try to punk him out again with his stooges. Hell, you've got those steroid-bloated mongoloid soldiers from Donzig-gun breathing down your neck. Why - why in the world - would you voluntarily go and start a fight with Ronnie Long?"
He grabs the lightbulb, stopping it from swinging momentarily. Fully illuminated, he leans forward a little on his stool.
“Answer: Because Ronnie needs to be stopped. HEY! RONNIE! Listen to me very carefully. You don’t know it yet, but this is personal.”
Riot mimes pointing at Long's eyes with two outstretched fingers and then points those fingers back at his own eyes - the universally-recognised gesture for 'I'm watching you.'
"I know how much you loved NPW, Ronnie, so I'm going to presume a little of what I say is familiar to you because I've said it before when we were there. I look at you, and I see something of me. That might sound like a strange thing to say to an older guy, but hear me out. Neither of us knows when to get off this ride. Both of us keep coming back for that one last run, that one last world title, that one last deep breath standing at the top of the mountain. Now, me? I’m almost there. I’m co-holder of the only world tag team championship that matters. I’m standing side by side with the only world heavyweight wrestling champion that matters. I might be pushing 40, but I know my dream is still rooted in reality. You? You’re a fantasist.”
He snorts, taking a moment to run a hand across his shaved head before shaking it in disdain.
"You're so far over the hill you can't even see it anymore, and you're close to becoming a parody of yourself. I know how people used to speak about you, Ronnie. I watched wrestling during your heyday. Hell, I wrestled during your heyday. People said you were a good man - perhaps even a hero to many. Now? You're twisted. You're bitter. You're a heartbeat away from being a broken-down old pro who sits at home and starts a podcast pissing on the new generation because you can't hang anymore, but you're not quite there yet. You're still telling yourself that at the age of forty and however much change you're carrying, you're still capable of carrying a banner and running the show. I look at you, and I see what I'm in danger of becoming if I fail. A man who doesn't know when to stop. A man who doesn't know when the tune's stopped playing, and it's time to go home. A man so consumed with clinging on to the past that he can't see the present, and he's lost sight of the future. Actually, I can boil this down to what I said at the start of this little soliloquy, Ronnie, I look at you, and I see failure. Not any old failure, though, MY failure."
He pauses for a second. That might have been an accidental confession. Accordingly, he takes a breath and composes himself before he moves on.
"You're wondering what I mean by that, so I'll tell you. I have dreams about this business, but I also have nightmares. I dream of that one last golden run. I have nightmares about chasing it for too long and outstaying my welcome. To put that another way, I have nightmares about becoming you. About the bitterness consuming me to such an extent that nothing else matters anymore, and I'm still dragging my broken carcass in the ring and disgracing my legacy because it's all I've got left. If that ever happened to me, Ronnie, I would want someone to come and stop me. I'd want someone to strike me down so completely, so decisively, that I have to stare reality in the face and realise that it's time to stop. I would want someone - someone good - to give me the chance to go out on my shield after being put down one last time. So that's why we're here."
A very brief clip of Legacy 3 plays of Riot patting Long on the chest and looking him in the eye before walking past him. When it’s over, we’re returned to Riot. He’s even closer to the camera than he was before.
"I don't hate you, Ronnie. I'm not doing this because I see you as a threat or because I want you out of my way. I'm doing this purely because someone has to stop you and save you from yourself. You come in here with your NPW this, XHF that crap. Both your feet planted firmly in the past because you daren't look forward. Well, I'm the man who's going to twist your neck and make you look. I'm going to be the man who knocks the Ronnie Long comeback train off the tracks and sends it to the scrapyard because I care about the legacy of Ronnie Long more than you do. You can think of that as a professional courtesy or not, but you're still going to accept it. When that final bell tolls at Legacy 4, Ronnie Long, it tolls for thee."
Riot reaches up and pulls out the lightbulb, plunging us into darkness and ending this promo.