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| **The scene opens to find Rob Osbourne sitting in his office in his home in Isleworth, a gated community of affluent and mostly famous celebrities in Windermere, Florida just west of Orlando. Osbourne is wearing a pair of black Kenneth Cole slacks and a black wife beater with black boots. His hair is pulled back into a pony tail and his purple Oakley's hang from his the front of his tank top. He decides to check his e-mail. The first message is one from his son, Rob Osbourne, Jr....or Bob Osbourne, as he is choosing to be called these days. The second e-mail is from mark Xamin listing the card for this week's Showdown. The National Champion laughs outloud after reading his booking. He switches on his digital uplink to PWN studios and begins cutting a promo...**
NRO: Once again, for reasons unbeknownst to me, I see myself slated to take on The Drooler. Yeah, yeah, i know you silly little bastards...it's The Ruler, but at his age, isn't The Drooler a bit more fitting? I find myself asking the same questions this week that Brian Adams was asking two weeks ago. However, unlike Brian Adams two weeks ago when he faced me, I know my opponent inside and out. Unlike Brian Adams two weeks ago when he faced me, I have beaten Paul Blair...several times. Most recently, about a month ago on Showdown. And, unlike Brian Adams two weeks ago when he faced me, I will win my non-title match at Showdown. But...LIKE Brian Adams two weeks ago when he faced me, I am trying to figre out why we are doing this...why this non-title match is even happening in the first place, for instance? I guess X always has a method to his madness, but I think he's just grabbed a handful of Adam's stash and is waxed like a fucking candle. Why else would he book Blair to get beaten down by me again? Maybe, like myself two weeks ago against Brian Adams, Blair has requested this match with me. Maybe he needs a good reason to be out of action to go shoot another movie in Hollyweird, and knows if there is anyone who can guarantee to give him a good old fashioned ass whooping, it's The Nitemare. Regardless of his motivation, he will in fact get his proverbial ass handed to him. But I can't help but think that maybe Paul is trying to reclaim some sort of sense of being in the universe. Ernie and Elmo have left him high and dry, in more ways than one if you take the Robin Cradle incident into consideration. Think about it all of you Ruler-Rooters still willing to show your faces in public....Paul Blair has lost his woman, he has lost his most loyal supporters, he has lost every match he has had in the last two months, save for a promotional stunt agianst a retired announcer. Paul...if you're The Ruler, it's a Ruler of One. Indeed ladies and gentlemen, Ruler-Rooters...Blair has lost his flare. But there are so many other things going on in the CWF besides this impending clinic I plan to put on with Blair. How about the dismantling of the New Church by...the New Church?!? What a bunch of ass clowns that take pride in being their own undoing. It was enough to get my attention, but the only reaction it got from me was a shaking of my head. It appears the guy that seemd to be the weakest link of the New Church has emerged as the only real talent to remain after the group has died. The Raving Lunatic seems to be making a name for himself here in the CWF running the gauntlet through this little tournament of Xamin's - good thing for the Lunatic I had to have Chris lock away his bastard kid....otherwise, bastard blood or not, it was going to be another Osbourne winning that tournament. Speaking of Drastic. Make that Bryan Joseph Osbourne. That little rat bastard has cost me over 1.3 million dollars in medical care over the last ten years that Chris has kept him locked away ever since what he did to his own mother. Suffice it to say that solitary confinement in a state ran facility is still too good for that sick little fuck. I for one hope Chris leaves him there to rot his life away. I would also be remiss to fail to recognize Magnus Fucking Thunder getting the opposite treatment from Xamin that Adams and I seem to get. We get punished, week in and week out for putting more asses in the seats and winning every match we are in. Well, in my case that is, not that we can say the same for Mr. Adams can we? Seriously though, how many times can Xamin hand Thunder world title shots before someone starts crying foul? I mean, not me...I would never start any type of controvery. I'm a changed man. I am perfectly content being the CWF National Champion. I am perfectly content beating every idiot Xamin throws at me, including his own World Champion. Let me side track here and ask about Jeff Jericho. Did I call that or what people? I told you that good ole' Double J couldn't stay away. But alas, is this going to be like Trent Davidson's big return as well? I haven't heard hide nor hair of Jeff Jericho since Showdown two weeks ago. Here I thought we were going to see all of these great legends make a triumphant return to the ring after seeing me do it. But it looks like they are more likely just guys down on their luck that squandered all of their earnings over the years and can't carry the burden anymore. I'm sure Davidson is laid up in a hallway with no doors and no rooms. Nothing but him, his lighter, his stash, and a spoon. Same thing goes for Jericho. He's probably half propped up at a bar in Toronto staring down into a shot glass of Wild Turkey contemplating why his life is in the shitter.... Jericho....just get over the hump....get out their and break a sweat, get your ass kicked, feel again...LIVE again. Now back to that seven foot five self-proclaimed future hall of famer. Sit down Washington, don't have dillusions of grandeur. I was talking about Magnus Thunder, not you. But if you want to know the truth of the matter Jugs, after Night of Champions, we're ALL done with you pal. But I will admit, I am feeling like a kid in a candy store getting to be the one to get to punch your ticket there lunch box. But I digress. I was speaking of the great giant in the CW,F I was addressing Magnus Thunder. Like my opponent this week, Paul Blair, Magnus has been dropping matches faster than stock in Chrysler. Yet, for some unkown reason, he keeps getting the push over guys like the Raving Lunatic and Sickboy who actually show up each week. Why is this? I'll tell you why....because Xamin is scared of him. You heard me. I think Magnus puts up this great facade of who he wants us all to think he really is. I mean, does the guy really walk around when the cameras are off thinking he is some great Norse God? I pondered that very thing. I wonder if when he takes off the Magnus costume, is he just some eccentric Norwegian mountain of a man, who is just a regular guy? I bet he's the kind of guy who is so regular beneath the gimmick that when he is on vacation, he just sits at the house and surfs the internet. I bet he's the kind of guy who goes in his basement to his Man Lair where he keeps his stack of old comic books, maybe a video game system hooked up to the flat panel. I know the type. Picture that...only with gobs of money...and you have me. On the other hand, mine isn't a basement in some run down old house I bought with the little bit of money I didn't spend on steroids and the obvious use of HGH to be that fucking huge...no...mine is a sprawling forty-two hundred square foot man lair with the kind of rooms that make your meaningless little mortal domiscile pale in comparison to my life. Magnus, the best thing that can happen to you is to squander another opportunity away by getting more lives than a fucking cat and yet another chance of taking my nephew's place in the Lord of the Ring tournament. I have my motivation for having Bryan locked away again, and you getting this BS gift handed to you wasn't one of them. Make the most of it, and I expect a thank you. Hey Adams. First you say 'your past means nothing' and then everyone else tells you how it does. Then you concede and come up with your rant about me never having won a CWF title. Then I did that...and I did it by beating a seven foot five, five hundred plus pound man. Then you tell me stealing his title with Pledge's help means nothing,. So I beat you and show you who is the uber-super heel. Now you can't remember much about two weeks ago it seems. Good for you Brian, good for you. You are finally learning your place as the #2 heel in this company, regardless of what that piece of tin around your waist says. #2...fitting, isn't it Brian? It's only a matter of time before you get kicked off of the top of the mountain. The bad part about it is, as talented as you are, the fall will be so very hard for you. You have NO safety net to save you. EVERYONE hates you. You still either have not learned or have not accepted the politics of this business...shit, of life man. Yes, everyone hating you says you are good at what you do. But, can everyone love you and everyone hate you at the same time? Can you spit in a mans face today and have him offer to pick you up when you are down tomorrow? No, you spit in a mans face today and tomorrow , when he sees you laying there, face down in a puddle of your own blood and piss, he spits on you in spite and walks away, being happy you got what you had coming to you. That's the difference between us Brian...and the reason that I am the Alpha-Heel. So line 'em up Xamin......Adams, Pledge, Jugs, Magnus, Lunatic......and I'll knock 'em down. Just like I always have and I always will. My old friend Jimmy Blast said it best....Diamonds are forever....and so are the Horsemen....maybe its time to mount up once more.... **The scene goes to static as Osbourne flips off the uplink. It fades back in as he is getting into his 2007 Maseratti Quttroporte and heading onto the Florida Turnpike. As he drops the Italian sports car into gear and the wind blows through his hair, Cowboys from Hell by Pantera plays through the car's sound system as Osbourne accelerates up to 117 miles per hour. As the crescendo peaks and the guitar solo ends, Osbourne pulls off of the turnpike and into the parking lot of Alltell Stadium in Jacksonville. He dials a number on his cell and the voice of Jaguars Head Coach Jack Del Rio comes on the line.** Del Rio: Rob, how the hell are you buddy? Are you here yet? NRO: JACKIE!!! I'm at the front gate of the stadium. Del Rio: Oh, you can park out there, I'll have the guard buzz you in... NRO: Jack...I don't think so. I'm not leaving a Maseratti parked outside of the stadium. Downtown Jacksonville isn't exactly a nice neighborhood if you know what I mean. Del Rio: Yeah yeah, sure thing man, bring it down to the field...but not ON the field. This ain't the college world series again. **Osbourne stops the car just a few feet away from Del Rio. He hops out and they embrace and Rob picks the conversation back up from the cell call...** NRO: That shit with the field at USC...that was totally McGwire's fault. Him and Randy wouldn't listen to me. I told them you and I would get in a world of shit with coach Tollner but they didn't care. Look at those two now, McGwire and his man boobs is a recluse, the Big Unit is still throwing heat, you, you were a halfway decent catcher, but like me, you went with your true love man. I could have went with you into the NFL or with Randy and Mark into the show. But I wanted to be like my dad man... Del Rio: Oh Robbie, you could have done all of them and been a white Deion, but we all knew you would never make it in the NFL or the MLB bro. You don't have the discipline. You never did, Work ethic, yes, discipline, no. NRO: Hey, I called you last year and proved the point that your 'discipline' is pointless. You benched Mike for showing out after two back to back sacks, just because the offense couldn't do shit, and you were losing. Never mind that the guy was trying to pump some life back into his teammates. No, you have to throw down your dong and show em who is boss. How's that working for you Jackie? Del Rio: If I din't love you like a brother, I'd jack your god damn jaw Robbie. Now, you going to tell me why you wanted to drive all the way to Jacksonville to do this, i could have helped you with this on the phone, in an e-mail...what gives? NRO: Honestly, I wanted the chance to drive my car really fast. No..really. I am thinking of getting the band back together and I want your opinions. I can't get ahold of your brother-in-law. No matter how many messages I leave him, he will not call me back....can you reach him? Del Rio: It's ex-brother-in-law man. When he left my sister on the terms he did, I think he knew well enough never to contact me again. I'd break his ass in half and Blast him. NRO: So that's a no then? Anyway, i know I introduced him to your sister Jack, so I am sorry if he did her wrong. I know that when he and i sat down and ever changed the line-up before, he would call you or we would have to fly Space Mountain to Minnestoa when you were playing or he Vikings and get your input. I figure there was a good reason for that. I think it was paramount to the success of The Horsemen. So, what do you think. Moreover, who do you think? Del Rio: Robbie...there's more to it than naming names. we have to watch film, we have to watch matches, promos, we have to see who can carry that mantle and make it proud. If all of these rumors are true, I know one who would have to be there. How long can you hang out and work on it? NRO: I have to head to Provo, Utah Saturday for a match, but then I can be back on Sunday and we can work on this til the night before Night of Champions which is on the 30th in Vegas. Del Rio: That should be plenty of time. Come on...let's head inside. **The scene fades out as the two former USC Football, Baseball, and wrestling stars head into Del Rio's office. FTB** |
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