Rage is exciting, but leaves me confused and exhausted. - Printable Version +- X-treme Wrestling Federation (https://xwf99.com) +-- Forum: (https://xwf99.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=113) +--- Forum: Archives (https://xwf99.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=13) +---- Forum: Leap of Faith 2019 RP Board (https://xwf99.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=136) +---- Thread: Rage is exciting, but leaves me confused and exhausted. (/showthread.php?tid=34211) |
Rage is exciting, but leaves me confused and exhausted. - Robert "The Omega" Main - 07-26-2019 Page, I’ve noticed something with your recent promos. They seem to be getting shorter than normal. Hell, son, you were a bottle rocket out of the blocks, spitting fire, that is until you blew your wad. I don’t want you limping into Leap Of Faith, I want the very best Chris Page. For weeks now, you’ve tried to pick apart anything that you can find on me. But here I am laying down the God damn truth, and there you are giving a history lesson of my shortcomings. Your pulling cunt hairs here. Which is fine, you can do what you’d like. You’ve been on these nuts since walking back into this company, you just can’t get over the fact that I am head and shoulders above you in the ring. More advanced, more enhanced and bigger in the pants if you know what I’m talking about you sawed off teensy-weensy dwarf. You despise the very freaking ground I walk on; well pal you need to get used to the sight of me being Champion because I’m not going anywhere. It bugs the hell out of you that I am your Champion. Maybe while I’m cracking your head again, you can take some notes from an extraordinary man. I’m ahead of the pack and have been for a long time now. I’ve never let a testicle with teeth bother me in the past and I’ll be dammed if I do so now.
See the predicament with your speculation of me and my brothers is elementary. We are all Champions, we are all respected men in this company. We enjoy our victories, bourbon, women and for Drew chocolate almond milk. We relish the moment and continue as one of the most predominant stables in XWF history. We are not going to come after one another like greedy children we have each other's backs and always will for that matter. Infighting won't happen between us. We will never have fractures because we are one, a unit. A team something you Chris Page and those plunderers will never be. As soon as you crumple at my feet the next underperforming lowlife scumbag will step up. Just like you, I’ll make sure their shot, their time in the spotlight fades faster than it came. Each one of you is sorry excuses for human beings will go belly up, fizzling out missing the mark by a mile. When it’s all on the line you bunch of bone heads screw it up. Breaking down in an old wrinkled heap biting the dust. Your glory days are way behind each of you, even then you all fell by the wayside wanting more. On the biggest stage of your entire career Chris, you are going to flounder in the biggest nosedive ever witnessed on XWF programing. Once again, you’ll show the world the collapse of the “Stoned” one. You know what the true definition of hell is Mr. Page? When you die, you get to meet the person you could have been. Robert’s never been afraid of the rage locked away inside of him that’s his fire, his fire burns hot and unyielding. Should Chris Page ever find Robert’s true madness a fridge, icy ferocity that burns through his veins. Chris will only then find true agony. Robert can only be that way with those who have hurt the ones closest to him. So, Chris Page will be schooled so he knows firsthand the torment of the ice. CCP will have never felt so much rage as when pushed into passivity against Robert’s iron will. That's what he should be expecting though. Robert will show his boiling point unleashing a storm never seen before dragging Chris into compliance. Robert doesn’t use these emotions for natural people anymore. This rage Robert keeps locked inside will be CCPS ticket to freedom. I need another beer. As I down my 8th pint setting the frosty glass down on the bar top. After I beat your ass three ways from Sunday. I’m coming over. I’m kicking in your back door and I’m patting your old lady on the ass and I’m telling her to make me a steak, medium rare just how I like it. Page if you haven’t lost in this business you haven’t faced the right guys yet. There are more holes in your game than a block of cheese MDK tried to fuck. Do you even realize what is going on around you, or do you just guess? Taking blind stabs in the dark. Page, you might just be the most unintelligent man walking God's green Earth. You're so damn short-sided it's laughable. Is there no brain activity when you speak? A filter? Anything? Or are you always this dazed and confused about everything going on in reality. I mean Jesus, come on man get your shit together, just once in your life. You are literally lost, aren't you? But what else could we expect from a simpleminded man? Everything that you spouted off in ALL your promos was pointless and dimwitted. Chris, it’s been the same thing over and over. You are going to beat me and become the Universal Champion. You’re going to destroy this company and pull the plug. Dick this dick that. Since day one you’ve spouted the same hot garbage. Let’s talk about something different huh. Empty that cock holster you call a mouth and say something meaningful. With every word that left your under-educated mouth, all our IQ’S drop several points just listening and seeing the thick-headed, brainless man you truly are. I'm not amazed much, but you have flabbergasted me with your preposterous harebrained rants. Without resentment Chris Page has treated Robert as the carpet he walks on. With all Robert’s fury, he is trouble best ignored, left alone until signs of submissive behavior are offered. Should he demand acknowledgment of his pain? The scorn of last resort to put Page back into his box. Should Robert fail to acquiesce, he can expect the long drawn out big freeze. All Robert ever wanted was for the ones before him, the ones he pays homage to give a damn about what he’s been doing as Champion, Instead CCP has taken the route of least brainpower, ignore, shut down, sulk. And so, the hot rage of Robert’s soul becomes a cold smolder of suppressed anger. What should have ended at Wargames has become a bitter taste that remains. Rage flows like deep water currents. Robert’s everything the right way to get here. Yet this place the XWF is still a monumental mess. This era of wrestling has become a landfill littered with trash. There are those few good men trying to breathe new life into this company. That’s why APEX has been taking out the trash. Even those that didn't earn this wrath will have earned it at some point. Every one of them took what Robert made without thanks or even a backwards glance. Along the way he has reduced reduce them to human rubble with his words, all of them shocked. In the ring, though he made each man and woman surrender. As the once quite mannered Main, transformed into a wicked tornado. Robert didn’t expect sorrow, apologies, regret, repentance. What he expected was them to learn their place in the pecking order. As I sat back looking out the window on the ride over here I could not help but wonder what could make one man so thoughtless? For a moment I thought to myself no one could be this weak-minded. So, I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe Chris Page was just being lackadaisical not putting the best foot forward. But then I thought to myself again wait this is Chris Page. You almost had me fooled. You are the dunce cap wearing wrestler of the XWF. A bonehead ignoramus, but hey at least you tried right? For a seventh time now CCP you "ALMOST" got my attention. You'll never have the Universal Championship as long as it sits on my shoulder. Chris maybe after this match you should sit down and rethink your career choice. I believe you should consider retirement, you know, get out while the getting is still good. I mean let's face it, man, you can cut this however you would like to. To me, it doesn't matter at all. I'm doing nothing more than pointing out facts. I know at times you have a hard time deciding what is reality and what isn't. But when I tell you, that you are finished in this business. It isn't shit talk, it isn't my ego talking, I'm not a detective, I'm just looking at the facts. I'm looking at the big picture. I’m looking at when the last time you meant a damn to anyone other than yourself. Yeah so fucking what you were World Champion eons ago when I wasn't around to stop you. It's time for greener pastures man. You have become an ancient wrestler long forgotten by even the most hardcore wrestling fans. This is no longer the dark yesteryears of wrestling where you reigned supreme. Chris, you have become a timeworn fossil from the past versed not in wrestling but running your mouth. You desperately want people to believe you are this savvy veteran of the game. It's a lie dude. I motion for the barkeep to bring me another. It was like vexing of the soul for what Robert felt wasn’t human, it was twisted and distorted, but it was something strong. It burned so bad like fire lacing his veins and creeping up his spine, his skin was a sore looking red but all he could feel was a deep desire; desire to hate. Robert was now intoxicated with emotion he had no intention of ever feeling, the acidity of it was residing in his stomach waiting to be spat out of his mouth. You are so broken down and exhausted it's honestly fighting to think what’s going to happen to you once I wrap my hands around that throat and squeeze. I might break that stack of dimes you call a neck. You are a man not getting any younger and way past his prime. Chris, I promise you this, facing me will not bring you back to those glory days. It will not bring you any closer to the spotlight that has been dogging you for years. What it will do is cripple your already crumbling career. No one wants to see a worn-out and unfashionable wrestler trying to hold on to the spotlight with unoriginal bull shit. This ride has been over for a long time, I just don't see why you cannot accept it. Face the music, before someone like myself, makes you come to terms with force. You are going to need anything and everything to slay me. I am going to make you squeal Chris like the bitch you are. After this match, I will make you want to retire, not only will you be outclassed in the ring, but I will outfight you as well. You butter faced cock monster, I didn’t come at you with any bull shit, you are the one line by lining me. Hell, Page is that the way you oppose my actions? Wait for the other guy to take the first crack and then try and battle out of the hole? You’re already dead and in the ground, we just haven’t covered you up with dirt yet. I’ve been doing what I always do Chris I get in the first buckshot to the brain, and from there on I keep on clubbing you until you plummet breaking down sitting in a gigantic pool of humiliation or give the hell up altogether. Just a quick visual of those seething promos you cut. They have become increasingly shorter with no substance, you continuously put your guard up against my words, all the while reducing your own. Yet I am supposed to be shaken to my very foundation with this shit? The only bull shit I see is “Chronic” Chris Page cutting a promo stating he is this new breed of monster that I should be terrified of. Tell me what I should be so afraid of? Being bored to death? Everything that I have articulated about you is the utter truth. No bull shit, no bait and switch. I see you come on any television within viewing or hearing distance, I’m asking for the remote and changing the channel to anything other than you and trust me when I say this. Everyone else watching turns the channel as well. What a pompous crotch jockey you’ve become. Do you presume I need a transcript as you do? I’m sure you print out every single word said in my promos and try dissecting them. You’ve tried, I think seven times now to turn my words on me? Has it worked? Have you made one valid point? Of course not. You meager pocket-sized insecure turd pirate. My hands shook as I took another swig of beer. Is it nervousness, adrenalin? Or is it I’m just so pissed I can’t even think. All I want to do is get my hands-on Page. My left eye twitched as his name did a drive-by on my mind. Red. Everything went red. His vision blurred as a flame curled in the pit of his stomach. Robert’s brain went on overdrive as it picked every moment of pain felt over the past few weeks. The memories weighed down on him but instead of breaking, even more, his heart turned ice cold and slunk into the shadows as his brain took complete control. The flames in his stomach rose up into his chest and began crawling through his bourbon filled veins, taking over the rest of his body. His fingers coiled into fists. Page, you are nothing more than a white trash crotch captain begging for annihilation. There is nothing worse than a tone-deaf sphincter hound like yourself. You claim I stirred up a considerable shit-storm by not answering you. Well here I am Page live and in color, now look at you attempting to gracefully clean it up. You wanted this fight with me and now that I am taking it to you before we get into the ring you have no idea what to even think about doing. You were the one starving for attention, you needed something more. You were going to chew through the locker. I stepped up to stop the bull shit. You’ve overplayed this entire thing. You had to try and squeeze out every last drop, didn’t you? you slimy cock goblin you. Then to put the icing on the desperate cake you have come at me with nothing more than buffoonery, you try this slapstick absurdity, thinking everyone will fall in love? The world loathes the ground you walk on Chris. And that’s not a punchline it’s a PSA. The quality of my promo’s hurricanes right over yours. You can’t come up with anything other than a rebuttal to my shit. I’m sorry there isn’t a creative bone in your limp-dicked body my man You’ve become a man clinging to anything he can because he knows he is losing. You are butthurt because I am ripping you to shreds and there isn’t a damn thing that you can do about it, other than bend over and take it like the Captain Stabbin. No one is going to bail you out of the shit you begged for. You wanted this war well pal here it is. I swallowed that anger when it was just a seed and forgot to drink something with it, and so it grew in my belly until it came out as hot as a dragons has ever flames. I'll never forget his eyes, how that fire burnt him to ash. The look of terror when the chair connected with his skull. I still sizzled even in the rain, but that inferno was more than even Page himself could manage. Every word stung only fueling the fire that is burning inside of me. Every violated phrase was like gasoline, my fists began to clench and my jaw became tight. You are a boring loser. How does it feel getting murdered? Clearly, Chris, you are so far removed from reality you are hearing things that are not there. Seeing what you want to see. You are legitimately coming undone at the seams mentally. You are suffering from hallucinations. Or a bad weed trip. I’m not sure. Your problem is there is nothing more to say. You can’t fight back. You have lost your will to even try. I will crack your skull like an egg, keeping The Universal Championship right where it belongs. Over a better man’s shoulder. Have you heard yourself? I mean that. Have you heard yourself rinse and repeat the same shit? Yeah, I’ve brought up Wargames a few times Chris. But that’s because I like rubbing your nose in that loss. You on the other hand, do you even know what in the hell you are talking about because everything that you have said. Every single promo has been Chris Page talking out of his ass. Leap Of Faith there will be no trail of glory blazed, and there is nothing at all you can do to stop it. I know you are all scramble brained and all but maybe when listening to my promos over and over and over you should think about the point I am trying to drive home. It’s clear as day you are a few bricks short of a full load. You shouldn’t throw stones if you live in a glasshouse. You wanted this. You begged for it. Now that it is here you see your Championship hopes slipping through your fingers. Suddenly my eyes drift looking across the street from the pug seeing a beautiful church. Like a moth to the flame, it attracts me. There’s a voice deep down telling me to go. I’m no bible thumper, but I think I’ll go in. |