Post by johnnybulldog on Aug 31, 2018 11:07:41 GMT -5
The camera fades in, as we see Johnny Bulldog sat in his, now tattered, Trophy Room. All the cases are hanging off the wall, and the only things clearly in view are a tattered Union Jack and a bookshelf, just in shot. He gets up, gets a book, opens it and reads a few sentences in dead silence. He then sits back down and violently shuts it before beginning to speak.
Ahh, stories. Some happy, others... sad. But, they're all different, in their own way. If wrestling careers were books, mine would fly off the shelves - but there's still at least half of the book to be filled. And then there's Brewer. His book is full. Chapters upon chapters of stuff he has done - from The Hated to The Firestarters. Even when he used to lose on the regular to Doomtrain, when I was knocking him out every other week - hell, even TJH could do that.
Bulldog laughs to himself before continuing.
The last thing that needs to be filled is the storybook ending. The last hurrah for Michael Brewer as he shares the spotlight with Dylan Black at Revelation. Tears streaming down his face as he finally finishes inscribing the final chapter into his storybook career - passing the torch in the process.
But it isn't that simple, Brew. Oh no.
You see, your career effectively ends on Sunday, where I'll take the liberty of writing that ending for you. It reminds me of that Disney film... Old Yeller. Old Yeller was loved, respected, adored - everything was looking up for Old Yeller - that was, until...
BAM.
Bulldog throws the book he has been holding onto the concrete floor.
Old Yeller bit off more than he could chew. He caught Rabies - Brewer. He was old and ill, he had to be shot. He never got the storybook ending he wanted. Sound familiar?
Bulldog reclines in his chair.
That's also your story, Brewer. When you chose me to fight for the World Championship on Sunday, you sealed your fate. It's my job to take you behind the woodshed and put you out of your misery. Sure, you'll still get your Revelation match, but it's not the same - is it? An old, decrepit, man, desperate to cling on to the success he once had by beating up the next generation like Rich Sheath - going up against a man who, let's face it, although bright, has done nothing more than show up when it suited him this season, attempting to push in at the last minute. Some Revelation main event, huh?
Bulldog sits back up again.
Your story was a straight up climb to the top, like it or not. You had no underdog story, no storybook rivalries of note. You've been the backbone of GWA - especially when its been a little drab. When the Front Office decided to push Doomtrain and give him every title under the sun, you latched onto his dick, gave it a good suck and it lifted you back to the top. When The Firestarters went on strike, you had to wait in the wings until they were ready for you to come back - so they could use you in their quest for Tag Gold. You're nothing more than the reliable old man, past it by years, trying to disguise it by the help of other people.
I, on the other hand, have a much more exciting story. Twists, turns. Breakups, shake ups. Hell, I seemed to confuse your wilting brain when I announced The Dangerous Brothers were returning - my next enigma. Hell, I've had to work from dead bottom to be here - more than once. My first World Championship win came only after Mark Greene got over his apparent Xenophobia and let the World Title go on first, before a shambles of a Thunderdome, just so my family back home in England could see me force Hunter Storms to cry and quit again. I was left to lead The Shadows when CJ Busha and his band of misfits decided to go visit Taco Bell instead of win championship gold - but that year was the only year The Shadows have ever won the Family of the Year. I was hand-given my first Tag Championship by Mike Lio, only to be told to 'prove it' by Armageddon. And you know what I did, Brewer?
I knocked him out. He doubted me and my credentials and I knocked him out.
It's almost like these chapters are repeating themselves, ay? You've doubted me, only given me a shot despite the fact I'm a Triple Crown winner and one of the hardest working people on the roster. And, going back to what I've said before, notice a pattern? Three times, there, I was given an opportunity. I took it, and I ran with it. I won my World Title Match, I gave the Shadows their only award, after, what - 10 seasons? Oh yeah, and that illegitimate Tag Team I mentioned are Hall of Famers. - the most successful team in GWA History. You've given me an oppertunity, and I'm gonna take it again, I'm gonna run with it again, and I'm gonna ruin your storybook ending.
It's over, Brewer. Your glory, your celebration, your so-called "Retirement Tour" - it's all over. It all ends Sunday - with me standing over you with the World Championship in my hands, and your career slipping through your fingers. You, led there, looking up at the lights, wondering why, oh why, you've just lost to the poor guy from England who can only show up on Sunday's due to his timetable - the poor English guy who once had to adopt a slave gimmick just to get by - the poor English guy who had to change his name just to be noticed by Magic and his lapdog in the Front Office.
Well all that, that's history. And that's all you'll be come Revelation - and it's gonna be my honor to give you a push start on your slippery slope back to normality. Your story will be over soon. Mine? Mine is just beginning its next chapter, and in a few years time, all you'll be is a little figure in the index, whom the next generation of kids will look at the back of my book and say "oh, that's the guy who did it all, only to be upstaged at the end."
It's not about how you start, Brewer, it's about how you finish - and your finish isn't going to be what you hoped it's be - courtesy of the guy who you're thinking of as "the little stepping stone to Revelation". I can't wait to see your face.
Bulldog sets alight to the book he was holding. The camera zooms in on the front cover - beginning to be engulfed in flames. In gold lettering, it reads 'The Story of Brewer'. The camera remains focused in as the cover is turned into ashes, before focusing back on Bulldog again.
See you Sunday, Old Yeller.
Bulldog makes a gun symbol with his fingers and motions to shoot the camera. It cuts off to static, before fading to black.
Ahh, stories. Some happy, others... sad. But, they're all different, in their own way. If wrestling careers were books, mine would fly off the shelves - but there's still at least half of the book to be filled. And then there's Brewer. His book is full. Chapters upon chapters of stuff he has done - from The Hated to The Firestarters. Even when he used to lose on the regular to Doomtrain, when I was knocking him out every other week - hell, even TJH could do that.
Bulldog laughs to himself before continuing.
The last thing that needs to be filled is the storybook ending. The last hurrah for Michael Brewer as he shares the spotlight with Dylan Black at Revelation. Tears streaming down his face as he finally finishes inscribing the final chapter into his storybook career - passing the torch in the process.
But it isn't that simple, Brew. Oh no.
You see, your career effectively ends on Sunday, where I'll take the liberty of writing that ending for you. It reminds me of that Disney film... Old Yeller. Old Yeller was loved, respected, adored - everything was looking up for Old Yeller - that was, until...
BAM.
Bulldog throws the book he has been holding onto the concrete floor.
Old Yeller bit off more than he could chew. He caught Rabies - Brewer. He was old and ill, he had to be shot. He never got the storybook ending he wanted. Sound familiar?
Bulldog reclines in his chair.
That's also your story, Brewer. When you chose me to fight for the World Championship on Sunday, you sealed your fate. It's my job to take you behind the woodshed and put you out of your misery. Sure, you'll still get your Revelation match, but it's not the same - is it? An old, decrepit, man, desperate to cling on to the success he once had by beating up the next generation like Rich Sheath - going up against a man who, let's face it, although bright, has done nothing more than show up when it suited him this season, attempting to push in at the last minute. Some Revelation main event, huh?
Bulldog sits back up again.
Your story was a straight up climb to the top, like it or not. You had no underdog story, no storybook rivalries of note. You've been the backbone of GWA - especially when its been a little drab. When the Front Office decided to push Doomtrain and give him every title under the sun, you latched onto his dick, gave it a good suck and it lifted you back to the top. When The Firestarters went on strike, you had to wait in the wings until they were ready for you to come back - so they could use you in their quest for Tag Gold. You're nothing more than the reliable old man, past it by years, trying to disguise it by the help of other people.
I, on the other hand, have a much more exciting story. Twists, turns. Breakups, shake ups. Hell, I seemed to confuse your wilting brain when I announced The Dangerous Brothers were returning - my next enigma. Hell, I've had to work from dead bottom to be here - more than once. My first World Championship win came only after Mark Greene got over his apparent Xenophobia and let the World Title go on first, before a shambles of a Thunderdome, just so my family back home in England could see me force Hunter Storms to cry and quit again. I was left to lead The Shadows when CJ Busha and his band of misfits decided to go visit Taco Bell instead of win championship gold - but that year was the only year The Shadows have ever won the Family of the Year. I was hand-given my first Tag Championship by Mike Lio, only to be told to 'prove it' by Armageddon. And you know what I did, Brewer?
I knocked him out. He doubted me and my credentials and I knocked him out.
It's almost like these chapters are repeating themselves, ay? You've doubted me, only given me a shot despite the fact I'm a Triple Crown winner and one of the hardest working people on the roster. And, going back to what I've said before, notice a pattern? Three times, there, I was given an opportunity. I took it, and I ran with it. I won my World Title Match, I gave the Shadows their only award, after, what - 10 seasons? Oh yeah, and that illegitimate Tag Team I mentioned are Hall of Famers. - the most successful team in GWA History. You've given me an oppertunity, and I'm gonna take it again, I'm gonna run with it again, and I'm gonna ruin your storybook ending.
It's over, Brewer. Your glory, your celebration, your so-called "Retirement Tour" - it's all over. It all ends Sunday - with me standing over you with the World Championship in my hands, and your career slipping through your fingers. You, led there, looking up at the lights, wondering why, oh why, you've just lost to the poor guy from England who can only show up on Sunday's due to his timetable - the poor English guy who once had to adopt a slave gimmick just to get by - the poor English guy who had to change his name just to be noticed by Magic and his lapdog in the Front Office.
Well all that, that's history. And that's all you'll be come Revelation - and it's gonna be my honor to give you a push start on your slippery slope back to normality. Your story will be over soon. Mine? Mine is just beginning its next chapter, and in a few years time, all you'll be is a little figure in the index, whom the next generation of kids will look at the back of my book and say "oh, that's the guy who did it all, only to be upstaged at the end."
It's not about how you start, Brewer, it's about how you finish - and your finish isn't going to be what you hoped it's be - courtesy of the guy who you're thinking of as "the little stepping stone to Revelation". I can't wait to see your face.
Bulldog sets alight to the book he was holding. The camera zooms in on the front cover - beginning to be engulfed in flames. In gold lettering, it reads 'The Story of Brewer'. The camera remains focused in as the cover is turned into ashes, before focusing back on Bulldog again.
See you Sunday, Old Yeller.
Bulldog makes a gun symbol with his fingers and motions to shoot the camera. It cuts off to static, before fading to black.