Post by Venom 🕷 on Jul 23, 2023 16:40:58 GMT -5
Bloodied Fox.
BEEF doesn’t want to take from you.
BEEF appreciates the journey you took to get here.
You were something BEEF will never be because of his size. You were the consummate underdog. Always too small. Too underpowered. Too any other buzz word they could think of to describe you.
Whether you were a “good” guy or a “bad” guy you overcame.
You leapt over every obstacle that was put in your way.
You fought and fought until it was undeniable that you were the best. That despite your size you were to be feared.
BEEF likes that.
It doesn’t hurt that you represent the place that raised BEEF, GUNS. GUNS is very close to BEEF. That’s why.
BEEF doesn’t want to take from you.
But BEEF wants what you got. BEEF has sniffed the top and he wants more.
The Phoenix Championship, it’s nice. It has the benefit of being Redmond Fury’s favorite belt, and BEEF likes to punch Fury in his face.
But.
King BEEF has a nice ring to it.
Face of the XHF BEEF has an even better ring to it.
So Bloodied Fox, BEEF doesn’t want to take from you.
But BEEF will.
We open on the sky line of Las Vegas. We begin to zoom in on the largest building, the Strat. The Strat in Las Vegas is called that because the building and its observatory extend into the stratosphere. As we get close and closer we are suddenly taken inside and on the Strat’s observation deck. The place is quiet for Las Vegas. The sounds of the slot machines are ringing out, but there’s a serious lack of people. We find a sign that reads “closed for a private event” but it must be a real private event, because no one is around. We hear nothing but the sounds of the slots until...
Huff, huff, huff.
…breaks through the sounds of dings from the machines. Soon we see El Rey back pedaling through the observation deck laughing as BEEF chases behind him.
BEEF: Huff, slow, huff, down.
The smile slowly fades from El Rey’s face and he slows to a stop. BEEF stops and drops hunched over with his hands on his knees.
El Rey: Fine. Catch your breath and then we can keep going.
BEEF: Keep going? BEEF doesn’t even understand why we’re doing this.
El Rey: What do you mean? All the best athletes train at elevation.
BEEF: Yeah, but that’s at facilities in high elevation cities like Denver. You’ve got BEEF running through an empty casino.
El Rey: And?
BEEF: An empty casino isn’t the idea place for an athlete to train!
El Rey: I’m not the one who chose to move to Vegas.
BEEF: Couldn’t we have just flown to Denver? BEEF has to dodge around slot machines and the lights hurt BEEF’s eyes. BEEF is sure your family has connections in Denver. Surely we could’ve just trained there.
El Rey: Oh we do, but where’s the fun in that. Besides, you think your path is going to be clear at NoC? You think that there won’t be lights flashing in your eyes from the fans camera? This isn’t just elevation training, plus it’s so much cooler to rent out the entire observation desk and ruin someone’s day by not letting them come up her.
BEEF shrugs. He has no argument for that.
El Rey: Any more questions?
BEEF: Nah.
El Rey: Good. Let’s get moving!
El Rey takes off like a rocket, and BEEF sighs and slowly gets his large frame moving after him as we cut back to the view of the Vegas skyline.
Dear BEEF,
You still ain't called or emailed, I hope you have a chance
I ain't mad - I just think it's fucked up you don't answer best friends
If you didn't wanna talk to me outside your match
You didn't have to, but you could've signed an autograph for Wombats 27 children.
That's the little kids I have to deal with, they’re only six years old
We waited in the blistering heat for you
For four hours and you just said, "No"
That's pretty shitty man - you're like their fucking idol
They want to be just like you man, they like you more than I do
I ain't that mad though, I just don't like being lied to
Remember when you left me in Atlanta - you said if I'd write you
You would write back - see I'm just like you in a way
I never wanted to be a wrestler neither
I used to always cheat on my tests to get to college
I can relate to what you're saying in your promos
So when I have a shitty day, I drift away and put 'em on
'Cause I don't really got shit else so that shit helps when I'm depressed
I even got a tattoo of your name across the chest
Sometimes I even touch it when your on TV so I can feel close to you
It's like adrenaline, the pain is such a sudden rush for me
See everything you say is real, and I respect you 'cause you tell it
Tom Phillips is jealous 'cause I talk about you 24/7
But he don't know you like I know you BEEF, no one does
He don't know what it was like for people like us growing up
You gotta call me man, I'll be the biggest friend you'll ever lose
Sincerely yours, Mags
P.S.
We should be together, too
BEEF doesn’t want to take from you.
BEEF appreciates the journey you took to get here.
You were something BEEF will never be because of his size. You were the consummate underdog. Always too small. Too underpowered. Too any other buzz word they could think of to describe you.
Whether you were a “good” guy or a “bad” guy you overcame.
You leapt over every obstacle that was put in your way.
You fought and fought until it was undeniable that you were the best. That despite your size you were to be feared.
BEEF likes that.
It doesn’t hurt that you represent the place that raised BEEF, GUNS. GUNS is very close to BEEF. That’s why.
BEEF doesn’t want to take from you.
But BEEF wants what you got. BEEF has sniffed the top and he wants more.
The Phoenix Championship, it’s nice. It has the benefit of being Redmond Fury’s favorite belt, and BEEF likes to punch Fury in his face.
But.
King BEEF has a nice ring to it.
Face of the XHF BEEF has an even better ring to it.
So Bloodied Fox, BEEF doesn’t want to take from you.
But BEEF will.
We open on the sky line of Las Vegas. We begin to zoom in on the largest building, the Strat. The Strat in Las Vegas is called that because the building and its observatory extend into the stratosphere. As we get close and closer we are suddenly taken inside and on the Strat’s observation deck. The place is quiet for Las Vegas. The sounds of the slot machines are ringing out, but there’s a serious lack of people. We find a sign that reads “closed for a private event” but it must be a real private event, because no one is around. We hear nothing but the sounds of the slots until...
Huff, huff, huff.
…breaks through the sounds of dings from the machines. Soon we see El Rey back pedaling through the observation deck laughing as BEEF chases behind him.
BEEF: Huff, slow, huff, down.
The smile slowly fades from El Rey’s face and he slows to a stop. BEEF stops and drops hunched over with his hands on his knees.
El Rey: Fine. Catch your breath and then we can keep going.
BEEF: Keep going? BEEF doesn’t even understand why we’re doing this.
El Rey: What do you mean? All the best athletes train at elevation.
BEEF: Yeah, but that’s at facilities in high elevation cities like Denver. You’ve got BEEF running through an empty casino.
El Rey: And?
BEEF: An empty casino isn’t the idea place for an athlete to train!
El Rey: I’m not the one who chose to move to Vegas.
BEEF: Couldn’t we have just flown to Denver? BEEF has to dodge around slot machines and the lights hurt BEEF’s eyes. BEEF is sure your family has connections in Denver. Surely we could’ve just trained there.
El Rey: Oh we do, but where’s the fun in that. Besides, you think your path is going to be clear at NoC? You think that there won’t be lights flashing in your eyes from the fans camera? This isn’t just elevation training, plus it’s so much cooler to rent out the entire observation desk and ruin someone’s day by not letting them come up her.
BEEF shrugs. He has no argument for that.
El Rey: Any more questions?
BEEF: Nah.
El Rey: Good. Let’s get moving!
El Rey takes off like a rocket, and BEEF sighs and slowly gets his large frame moving after him as we cut back to the view of the Vegas skyline.
Dear BEEF,
You still ain't called or emailed, I hope you have a chance
I ain't mad - I just think it's fucked up you don't answer best friends
If you didn't wanna talk to me outside your match
You didn't have to, but you could've signed an autograph for Wombats 27 children.
That's the little kids I have to deal with, they’re only six years old
We waited in the blistering heat for you
For four hours and you just said, "No"
That's pretty shitty man - you're like their fucking idol
They want to be just like you man, they like you more than I do
I ain't that mad though, I just don't like being lied to
Remember when you left me in Atlanta - you said if I'd write you
You would write back - see I'm just like you in a way
I never wanted to be a wrestler neither
I used to always cheat on my tests to get to college
I can relate to what you're saying in your promos
So when I have a shitty day, I drift away and put 'em on
'Cause I don't really got shit else so that shit helps when I'm depressed
I even got a tattoo of your name across the chest
Sometimes I even touch it when your on TV so I can feel close to you
It's like adrenaline, the pain is such a sudden rush for me
See everything you say is real, and I respect you 'cause you tell it
Tom Phillips is jealous 'cause I talk about you 24/7
But he don't know you like I know you BEEF, no one does
He don't know what it was like for people like us growing up
You gotta call me man, I'll be the biggest friend you'll ever lose
Sincerely yours, Mags
P.S.
We should be together, too
