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*waves*; Couldn't think of a title...
Topic Started: Jan 16 2005, 07:52 AM (55 Views)
Samoan
Unregistered

The scene opens in a room set up for TNT interviews. A boom mic hangs a little lower than it should into the shot. The normal TNT logo backdrop is tattered and shredded. The normally bright, hot lights that focus on the backdrop are broken and knocked over. Next to the backdrop we find Swytch standing, a razor in hand and a grin on his face.

Swytch: Uh ha...ha...ha..haaa.

His grin quickly melts into a scowl as his false laughter fades into the air. Swytch looks down at the razor in his hand. His fingers relaxing ever so slightly allow the razor to slide effortlessly from his graps and land on the carpeted floor. Swytch's eyes go from the razor to camera.

Swytch: Confused I see. Clouded in that little head of yours, isn't it Savage. What would you know about being screwed over and over again? Especially when you were HANDED not one but TWO titles. Think about that, Saaavage.

Swytch's eyes begin to wander around the room. His head never moves, not the slightest, but his eyes zig zag about. Slowly he turns them back to look at the camera.

Swytch: Whoever said the world revolves around me? I don't remember that. I think you're confused again. It wasn't so long ago when you and your Puuuuuristssss friends thought the world revolved around your little group. No, Savage. I choose to make the world my playground. I choose to have my fun in this world, whether I'm allowed to or not.

Suddenly sparks shoot up from the floor. One of the lights that had been trashed seems to have a little life left in it. The sparks shoot up once more, glancing off Swytch's arm before the light finally gives in and dies.

Swytch: Remember them, Saaavage. The Puuuristsss. You guys loved to talk and talk and talk about how you would win because you were a technical wrestler. Week in, week out, day after day after day the three of you droned on and on and on about being better because you were technical wrestlers...ooooohhh. Look at me Savage, I'm trembling.

Swytch holds his hands out, forcing them to shake while he makes a "scared" face. Slowly his hands fall to rest at his side. His "scared" face replaced with a big toothy grin.

Swytch: Don't talk to me about being a looooser, Savage. You and your technical wrestling buddy couldn't even keep your tag titles against a team from that trash they call a brand...Slam! And look at you now. Getting beat by the garbage I handle every week. I'm disappointed in you. I really thought you were something better than that...at least that's how they billed you. Biiiiiig hype...liiiiiiiiittle show. I'll see you soon Savage. We'll see who's going to go home crying, broken down and humilated.

Swytch kneels down, plucking the razor off the carpet. He looks up to see the camera still there filming. Straightening himself, he walks toward the camera, step by step until his chest is only a breath away...

...and the feed scrambles.
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