$$$It all took time. All the work, all the pain, all the suffering, all of it, it took time. Nothing came immediatley, not for The Franchise, not for the KING, not for anyone. So excuse me JD, when I don't cry for your sob story. All of us have gone through pain, from myself, to The Franchise, to the homeless man on the corner on 33rd and Fifth, so don't go claiming that your case is special because you had a "troubled" childhood. If you want to talk to a shrink about it in the privacy of your own home, then please do, but don't pollute your own airwaves with crap like that. None of us want to know why you are the way you are, because no one cares, JD, and you know that. No one cares that your mother was a whore, or that you were without a father. We've heard it all before. The same excuses, time and time again, and no matter what anyone says, no matter what anyone does, we're forced to listen to them, forced to digest them, and forced to contemplate the point of them. But maybe, just maybe, there is a reason to them, maybe, you're telling us because you've never had anyone to tell before, and maybe, despite all your wealth and riches, you've never really been able to "open up" before. So what do you do? You tell the fans, the wrestlers, and any other two-cent scumbag that gets your station about your troubled past. And what did you get for them? A world title shot? Hell, maybe The Franchise should spill his guts about Moscow. Maybe, he should tell you all about how he was chased from his home country. What do you think JD? Do you want to here about his pain, and his suffering? Or would you rather continue on with your story, as we sit here and wonder, what's the point?$$$
$$$As the view fades in, we can see a light blue in the sky, patched with spots of white, and a dab of yellow. Looking downward, you see him, sitting on a parak bench, the beauty of spring surrounding him. His hands, tucked neatly in his pockets, and not a smile, but not a frown on his face. He looks deep in thought, but the words still come from his mouth, like poetry from an artists' hand.$$$
Justin: I remember those days. My first shot at glorly, and fame. Jimmy, Chaos, MISSLE, Shaku, they were all there, all gunning for the same thing that had enchanted all of our thoughts. I was gleeful and excited. I knew that it would be a chance to finally show off, to finally put to rest the claims that I was overrated. Yet, I never got to put on the display that I had hoped. No, instead I was layed up in a hospital bed after my own mentor betrayed me. But maybe things will be different for you, JD. Maybe, your friends will stick by you and you won't have to watch your back every time you move. Then, maybe, you'll get the shot that I never got. And maybe, JD, I was wrong about you. You could be a fine champion, a great champion, one of the best ever seen, and I would have to eat all of my words, but then again, I've seen you with gold around your waist. I've seen your "reigns", and I've realized one thing, you're a mean, cruel, heart
less bastard. You're reign would be as vicious as the later Roman Empires' were. You would sit back, in your leather chair, feet up, all phone calls on hold, the title across your waist, and you would laugh. You would laugh at me, at Harper, at Chaos, and every other man that's ever held that title before you. You see JD, I know your type, your kind, because I was you. I was the rich bastard who couldn't care about anyone but himself. I was the big man on campus, the VIP, but not in everyone else's mind, only my own, and that's what you don't understand. No one else considers you the champion that you think you are, or the hero you think you are, because everyone else considers you a pompous bastard who would rather win the World Title than mantain a friendship. JD, I'm not just fighting for myself on Saturday, I'm fighting for everyone that ever stood against people like you, I'm fighting for all those "little guys" who are too afraid to stand up the rich and powerful like yourself, and I'm fighting to prove something, to you, and to the critics. I'm fighting to prove that I'm not a failure.
$$$He leans back, his head tilting over the back of the bench. He stretches, and his body becomes more defined, and toned. He sits back up, yawns and then withdraws his hands from his pocket, rubbing his face. He places his hands at his side and laughs, as his voice returns.$$$
Justin: It scares me JD. Your confidence scares me. I've never seen a man as arrogant as yourself. You walk with that swagger, almost like you know you've won, before you've even been booked. Let me congratulate you on that, because I know how much confidence it takes to be able to do that. I wish I could be that cocky, that self-assured, but the facts are simple, I've been beaten too many times to be that cocky. You want to know the truth JD? You want to know the ABSOLUTE truth? I go into every match expecting to lose, and do you know why? Because, no matter what I do, I lose. I lose to Brown, to Money, to MISSLE, to you, to Storm, to Glore...the list goes on and on. It's like an oncomming train that I've never been able to stop, but that all changes Saturday. Like you, I'm going to do anything that I possibly can. I'll end my fucking career right there in the ring if it means I get to hold that title, if only for an instant. I'll sacrifice everything I have, just to be listed along the names of the greats of this place. You say you're ready, but you're not. Sure, you've worked your ass off, you've spent your time wasting where you shouldn't be, but it's only your first time. You'll never fully appreciate this until after you've lost. You can't comprehend what this means to your career, to your life, to your philosophy. This title, can change anything, and everything in a mere instant. I know it's downfalls, because, yes JD, I have held it before. I know how when you grasp it in your hand, you don't want to let it go, ever. I know that when you raise above your head, you never want to bring it down, and I know that when you spill your blood on it, just to be able to hear your name announced as the World Champion, you become a part of it and it's legacy. The winner of Saturday will be considered a god, among men. He'll be marked for destruction, but also respected, because whether you know it or not, every single man in the back with common decency respects the holder of that title, but they can never know what it's like to hold it, to win it, to be it, and neither can you JD...neither can you.
$$$A yawn escapes, but he quickly covers his mouth. He's garnered in a plain black T-shirt, and a pair of beige khakis. His hands find their way to his hair, as he scrolls through it, shaking it. As he does that, a man strolls up to him, wearing black slacks, a black T-shirt...with the words...oh god...Andrew Davis-Goldman pasted over the words Jimmy Harmon. A picture of Andrew is underneath it, obviously taped on. Andrew smiles, and he sighs, getting up to walk with Andrew.$$$
Andrew: Hey, Justin like my new T-shirt?
Justin: ...sarcastically... Yeah, Andrew, it's great.
Andrew: WOOOO!
Justin: ...holding ears... Please, Andrew, keep the "wooing" to minimum.
$$$Andrew just laughs and begins to jog in front of him. As he does, Justin reads the back of the T-shirt...written on, in red marker, are the words "JOIN IS-LAM...BECOME A 67 TIME WORLD CHAMPION!" Sigh.$$$
Justin: Where did you get that infernal shirt?
Andrew: ...jogging backwards... You like?
Justin: ...sarcastically... Yeah, Andrew, it's the greatest shirt in the world.
Andrew: Really? Wow man, I didn't know you felt that way. In fact, if you'd like, I could give you this one, right off my back.
$$$Andrew stops and begins to take off his shirt, but Justin stops him, thank god.$$$
Justin: It's alright Andrew, you keep it. I'll, uhh, buy one.
Andrew: Oh, you can't buy one of these babies. They're home-made.
Justin: ...this sarcasm thing is working... You don't say?
Andrew: That real, huh? Wow man, you're like a real great guy today.
Justin: ...sigh... Yeah Andrew, I'm a new man.
$$$Justin shakes his head as Andrew starts up again, jogging backwards. He looks up at Justin, who's walking with his hands in his pocket, slowly, but surely keeping up with Andrew.$$$
Andrew: You know Justin, you really should lighten up.
Justin: I should?
Andrew: Yeah, man. I mean, look at me, Is-lam isn't going that great, but I've got a smile on my face.
Justin: ...and here's the sarcasm... You don't say? You know, I thought Is-lam was doing spectacular!
Andrew: ...stopping to hug Justin... REALLY, MAN? WOW! You know, I was thinking of stopping with this stuff, but because of your vote of confidence, I'm going to keep going.
$$$Justin just sighs as Andrew continues to hug him. Andrew smiles and backs off as the camera fades.....$$$
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