Post by scottcarr on Feb 13, 2010 3:02:25 GMT -5
PWR Valentines Day Massacre
American Airlines Arena in Dallas, TX
The scene opens inside Carr’s darkened dressing room. He is sitting alone with only the flicker of a television and the smoldering tip of a joint to illuminate the room. The camera pans around and we see that his eyes are locked on Lance Peterson’s promo being played. Silently Scott watches, taking drags off of his joint as his affixed eyes never leave Lance, like a madman obsessed Carr glares right through the television. Lance’s promo ends and Carr snuffs out the roach of his joint and without so much as a word he gets up and storms out of his dressing room. The scene changes and we see backstage we see the corridor of the PWR Superstar's Dressing rooms. Carr's door opens and he advance from his locker room towards the entrance way, Walking with a purpose, each of his steps is certain and true with his cold - blood red eyes locked on the floor. He stops at the entrance curtain and we can hear the insanity unfolding as fans begin to grow restless for the upcoming dark matches. This is unexpected to them - they've no idea they're the first to hear Scott speak in front of PWR... The cameras change and we see the wild, excited PWR fans looking expectant – The arena falls under darkness as smoke billows up from the ramp way and only two lights appear near the entrance way, two red lights aimed straight down the ramp at the ring. And with raw power and unstoppable determination his music begins as across the screen a single word flickers "Deviate" and the two lights at the entrance ramp appear to move, followed by a massive three dimensional laser light big rig that tears down the ramp leaving two trails of fire on the ramp in it's wake and four posts erupting into balls of fire that reach high towards the arena's ceiling as the transparent truck makes it to the ring and evaporates into the same blackness that now once again engulfs the arena. The ring as the announcer begins to speak, unseen for the same blackness that blinds us all.
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! IT IS TIME TO FOCUS ON THE DANGER! Hailing from Arnprior County , Standing a Measure of Seven Foot Two Inches Tall, and Weighting in tonight at Four Hundred and Twenty Pounds He is...The Fatal Phenomenon... He is the one... the only... The Body Bagging - Toe Tagging - Human Chop Shop! HE IS ALL HATE! D-B-R! ......Chop Shop!... SCOTT CARR!
All the while - the most ravenous and blood thirsty fans, who know the history behind PWR cheer his name hockey chanting "CHOP-SHOP - SCOTT CARR! CHOP-SHOP - SCOTT CARR! CHOP-SHOP - SCOTT CARR!" their girder rattling cries echo incessantly through the pitch darkness. The guttural roar that leads in "This Calling" by All That Remains echoes throughout the arena, "Yeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaahhoooowwwww!" snarls, as a solitary red spotlight on the entranceway appears just before Carr bursts through the curtain; his head is rocking to the beats of his own intro music, adorned with a "Scott Carr" stretch fit hat. "I secretly crave, crave that scent again. Still feel it pressing on me now. Now with the onset, my flesh is weakening. I steel my nerves for temptations at hand again!” He stands there while the lights begin to strobe red and black in time with the music as he runs his hand across somberly across his jaw as he leers out at the massive crowd. "And I hear this calling! Still you don't seem so far at all! And I hear this calling out" The darkness beneath his hat is covering his blood red eyes, and casting his face in shadow for a moment as he glares out from under it across the audience. We see a sadistic smile creep across his face as he lifts his head looking skyward towards the upper levels of the arena as his cult-like following of loyal career-long fans wave banners, swing t-shirts and thrust their action figures and other paraphernalia as high into the air as they can reach, most also letting fly their own Devil Horns high signs. "No secret deception, for these would tear this down. I'll note the past; spare the pain - spare the pain! Words match my deeds with brutal honesty! Never forget these choices were made by me" With most of the audience behind him it's harder now to hear those who oppose Carr's style, although they are still out there and between them all they do still have a powerful, audible voice - Carr's cruelty curled grin widens and growing ever more frightening and disturbing as his grin becomes a sadistic smile. The ramp way around Carr erupts in flames as he throws his hat into the audience while he roars back at his wild fans that are all still cheering so ravenously for him. "And I hear this calling! Still you don't seem so far at all! And I hear this calling! Still you don't seem so far at all And I hear - and I hear - this calling OOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUT!" Scott runs across the stage, roaring out to his fans, and calling on their chants, holding his Devil Horn high sign up for one and all - pumping them up into frenzy before he runs back across the stage to the far side, as he throws both arms up with his Devil horns high sign, his fans reply in kind with their pop and reciprocated hand gestures. "Not falling victim to the fire that burns inside of me! Though I am fearful I will not prevent this tragedy! My strength's been tested! I wear the scars that prove! Still I believe that this calling will see me through" Already in the audience we can see many fans who are brandishing PWR replica belts. Scott stops and unzips his hoody instead before he rips off his skully and tosses it to the crowd. Carr makes his way back to the center of the ramp way, flipping open his undone hoody. Scott pulls his hoody off and throws it into the other side of the crowd as he descends the ramp advancing towards the ring while a rain of sparks flies out from the ramp way beneath his feet sparkling just below the fans' hands reaching out into the ramp way, the red and black trails of sparks end up crossing all around Carr, as braggadocios and opinionated as he is, Scott's nearly constantly moving lips give us a good hint that he's doing some verbal chest pounding for anyone near enough to hear him. "And I hear this calling! Still you don't seem so far at all! And I hear this calling! Still you don't seem so far at all! And I hear - and I hear - this calling OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUT!" Carr reaches out into the audience. He slaps the palms and pounds the fists of the out stretched hands of the unsettlingly loud fans brandishing his merchandise. Scott makes his way across the ramp like this the whole way down, seeming to enjoy the contact with his sadistic fans on both sides of the ramp way although he does also seem to take great revelry in throwing the occasional middle finger in the faces of those who jeer him. Carr finishes his saunter down the last of ramp way, he then rolls under the bottom rope into the ring, rolling up to a knee in the middle of the PWR logo - he jumps to his feet and holds his right hand palm outstretched - towards the agitated and excited members of the crowd, as if feeling the air and electricity that pulses from their chants. Carr thrusts both arms into the air and the two ring posts and the apron behind him all erupt into a huge wall of flame that makes a silhouette out of him but lights the rest of the entire arena. "My strength's been tested; I wear the scars that prove! Still I believe that this calling will see me through! Still I believe this calling will see me through, oh!" - The lights finish their strobe and become normal as Scott steps back into the corner, he tightens the “FTW” belt buckle clasping his black leather belt and he cracks his neck. Carr stands back in his corner - his sadistic smile turns to an expression of cold calculating and methodically evil stone as he lays his eyes across the middle of the PWR Logo... a man who had just enjoyed so much fan contact now appears to have been engulfed in a severe emotional stone. The announcer and attending ref both seem wary of getting too close to this mammoth, monster of a man. But this in ring promo on this dark show is still scheduled to happen no matter how apprehensive they feel about it.
Al Walters: Well he we go with another profanity laden sales pitch brought to you by this ravenous Canadian.
David Saturn: He’s an animal, pure and simple. He doesn’t feel – he reacts. And he has the microphone…
Al Walters: I don’t know if Default is as ready as he thinks he is…
Carr- Default! Little man... You saw that match last week? Well good for you, cuddles. I’m sure while you were putting styling molder in your pretty fucking hair, you watched that scrap intensely – I’m sure you paid attention to every move I made and I am certain from your senseless fucking ramblings that you think that’s all I bring to the ring, eh? WELL YOU’RE WRONG YOU SAD ASSED LITTLE TESTICLE JUGGLING, BLOODY FUCK STAIN! You insult me, and my passion for this industry and THEN you have the unmitigated gall… the sheer audacity and utter stupidity to tell it all to ME as if I should not make it personal? How about this, shit for brains – They names it Fucking Right! It'll be a Massacre! I’m going to hand you a wholesale sized shipment of High Quality, Hand Dealt ass beating in such an unmerciful manner - they'll start calling you Defect instead of Default…
David Saturn: Wow… he’s pissed.
Al Walters: Like I said, after Default’s promo – I don’t think he’s ready for exactly what he’s got to go up against.
David Saturn: I hope Default has his medical insurance paid in full.
Al Walters: I hope PWR calls in a mortician! Default may need it!
Carr- You picked the wrong words to spew at the wrong motherfucker! And I don’t give a flying fuck at all if you respect me… I ONLY WANT YOU TO FEAR ME! I ONLY WANT TO SEE YOU SUFFER! I couldn’t care less for respect… because there is a very fine line between fear and respect… and although I can’t beat respect out of you – I can damned well stomp some fear into your sissy little ass! Mock me, motherfucker... bring on your WORST! Sticks and Stone won't break my bones - and your words are going to KILL YOU! You think last week was all I am? BITCH PLEASE! If you knew the half of what actually goes on in the world - you'd shut up twice as often. I've fought on every continent on this Planet! I have been part of companies that pulled shows in high school gymnasiums and I have been center stage in the main events of some of the largest federations this industry has! I've been there, bitch! I've paid my dues, I've traveled the roads and I'm still standing healthy as haulage horse! I don't care about you... I don't care about your want for victory... I commend your willingness to prove yourself so stupid by opening your mouth and vomiting out the verbal effluence you did... but the cold hard fact of the matter is just this - YOU WILL NOT WIN! YOUR PRISTINE ASS IS GETTING PUT INTO A MATCH AGAINST A MAN WHO WOULD RATHER TAKE A RAZOR BLADE TO YOUR WELL KEPT FACE THAN I WOULD APPLY A WRIST LOCK! This match offers me the chance to do exactly that... so the next time you address me - if there ever is a next time; then choose your words more carefully you little petulant puny prick! They might be the last you say in PWR... I can smell the stench of your lackluster commitment from here! I’ll beat your ass – and you’ll up and bail like a motherfucking flake! See… I need not to introduce myself and go back to explain my past as I am… call this a courtesy… call it a prelude… call it a big mean bastard putting you in your place like the punk ass fuck you are! Call it whatever the fuck suits you, pansy! Because when that bell rings – I have no mercy to spare you… I have no remorse… I have only but Hate and Pain to inflict and instill upon you. Between those bells… anything goes… no one can – and trust me, no one WILL stop me. You’re a little big for your britches just yet - but I’ll kick the seams out for you, so hold no worries, eh?
David Saturn: Did he just tell a full grown man he’s to big for his britches?
Al Walters: Yes he did.
David Saturn: Seriously?
Al Walters: Are you going to correct him?
David Saturn: No I was going to ask you to.
Al Walters: I doubt that will happen.
David Saturn: You’re a pussy.
Carr- I mean seriously… I know you came here to make a splash – and I’m all too happy to help you… mind you, that splash is going to be you falling face first and lifeless into a pool of your own expelled blood! You really did show everyone what a stunned cunt you are. I mean the bullshit you said, that was so totally above the board, eh? Nobody in the HISTORY of Wrestling EVER thought of saying EXACTLY that to an opponent before, eh? I mean that's as uncommon a as say an in ring promo, right? Next time you open your mouth to me... have a little originality! Put a fucking thought into it,Thunder Dunce! But right now... I'm ABOUT to enlighten you over opinionated, undereducated ass! You live in a fucking country where you claim it, but in all reality there is Not a fully functioning democracy; freedom of speech somewhat negated and controlled by corporatocratic media! Your nation's "High living standard" results largely from the cruel and ruthless exploitation of less-developed countries and abusive treatment of immigrants and women! Your country boasts Astronomical percentage of taxation which go to a defence budget and leave your people with substandard social spending health care! Your country has a Heavy pollution and ineffectual land management policies! Cultural diversity is totally undermined by Anglo-American patriotic rhetoric and crushed beneath the burden ridden culture of hero worship and rampant consumerism! You live in a fucking country where you're all looked upon as the world's bully, and mistrusted by much of the world's population - and rightly so. You, like the stereotype that cripples your nation are Insular and self-absorbed and frighteningly ignorant of Reality as a whole... yet you want to control much of that world as possible, especially it's resources. The food. It's a personal choice. There is much good and much bad, same as everywhere else... except your country's key health concern is too many fat fucks waddling up to the troughs at one of your plentiful fast foot binging facilities for yet another unnessicary feast of congealed fat and fried slop! Oh... and dumb bitch, The last letter of the alphabet: it is pronounced "zed" and the Metric system makes SO MUCH MORE SENSE! I mean three feet to a yard? One Thousand, Seven Hundred and Sixty yards in a Mile? NO! One Hundred Centimeters to a Meter - One hundred Meters to a Kilometer and STILL that's smaller than your mother's waist line and it appeals to A LOT more people! The smarter, more sensible way is used by the rest of the world, so get in step and shut the fuck up about it! You mock a man from country that keeps yours running and you talk smack to a man from one that keeps yours being fucking carpet bombed with nukes? Who goes in after the US rapes an impoverished country? CANADA! Who rebuilds the rubble you senseless twats leave behind overseas when you battle over your black blood money? CANADA! Who the fuck is disrespected for one million five hundred thousandth kilometers around this planet? YOU, BITCH - especially after this guy from CANADA KICKS THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF YOU! Default... spare me your witless fucking retorts... and... just try to understand the gravity and oxymoronic nature of what you said to me and how you went about it... I Am Hate! – I am the Abominable, Indomitable, Body Bagging – Toe Tagging Sick Ass Motherfucker! - I Will Never Lay Down - I Will Never Give Up! ....and I'm going to show you that, Defect. I'm going to find your limits and exceed them. If you run, I'll cut that ring down to a Meter and catch you. If you take to the skies, I'll pluck you from the air and SLAM YOU INTO THE CANVAS! I will see you broken, Defect. Then... while you lay in the middle of that ring with millions watching in awe and horror as you gurgle and choke on your own blood, just as you've figured out how absolutely FUCKED you are - I shall lay hands on you but once more before the pin fall that ends your night in a loss. As your spine snaps backwards across my knee while I spike you down with Furious Anger from Impossible Heights! You'll know that what you should have done all along was... Focus... on the... Danger!
David Saturn: Wow... he's scary.
Al Walters: So you keep saying.
David Saturn: Yeah but I mean, just... damn, Al - have you ever seen a man so intimidating?
Al Walters: Not besides Scott Carr, no.
David Saturn: Fear is in the eye of the beholder!
Al Walters: That's Beauty.
David Saturn: Well thank you, I just made it up.
Al Walters: What? NO! Beauty is in the eye of the beholder!
David Saturn: Well I wouldn't call Scott Carr a beauty. He's more of a beast.
Al Walters: I'd say from the fact that he's tossed away the microphone - Scott Carr is done addressing Lance Peterson for now.
David Saturn: He may be done addressing him, but he's going to Stamp and Label him during the Defiance main event!
Al Walters: This match marks Scott Carr's Second match, as well as proving to be a wonderful launch pad for Default - win, lose or draw - not many men The Amazing Default's size would go into a match like this as confidently as he seems to be. He's giving up more than a foot in height and he's outweighed more than two-fold. If they can back up their claims BOTH of these men may get their big break on bigger matches down the line. Default has his work cut out for him against such a big man. If he survives to fight another day, he already has bragging rights over some of Mr.Carr's former opponents.
"This Calling" by All That Remains begins playing again as Carr exits the ring and heads up towards the entrance curtain again, followed by the chants of the fired up audience who are all ellated to see the upcoming main event.
David Saturn: Default isn't afraid to face Scott Carr like so many others in PWR are!
Al Walters: No... I think that Default just isn't afraid - yet.
The scene fades to black.
Carr Burning Track of the Week:
[glow=red,2,300]"Purity" by Slipknot[/glow]
American Airlines Arena in Dallas, TX
The scene opens inside Carr’s darkened dressing room. He is sitting alone with only the flicker of a television and the smoldering tip of a joint to illuminate the room. The camera pans around and we see that his eyes are locked on Lance Peterson’s promo being played. Silently Scott watches, taking drags off of his joint as his affixed eyes never leave Lance, like a madman obsessed Carr glares right through the television. Lance’s promo ends and Carr snuffs out the roach of his joint and without so much as a word he gets up and storms out of his dressing room. The scene changes and we see backstage we see the corridor of the PWR Superstar's Dressing rooms. Carr's door opens and he advance from his locker room towards the entrance way, Walking with a purpose, each of his steps is certain and true with his cold - blood red eyes locked on the floor. He stops at the entrance curtain and we can hear the insanity unfolding as fans begin to grow restless for the upcoming dark matches. This is unexpected to them - they've no idea they're the first to hear Scott speak in front of PWR... The cameras change and we see the wild, excited PWR fans looking expectant – The arena falls under darkness as smoke billows up from the ramp way and only two lights appear near the entrance way, two red lights aimed straight down the ramp at the ring. And with raw power and unstoppable determination his music begins as across the screen a single word flickers "Deviate" and the two lights at the entrance ramp appear to move, followed by a massive three dimensional laser light big rig that tears down the ramp leaving two trails of fire on the ramp in it's wake and four posts erupting into balls of fire that reach high towards the arena's ceiling as the transparent truck makes it to the ring and evaporates into the same blackness that now once again engulfs the arena. The ring as the announcer begins to speak, unseen for the same blackness that blinds us all.
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! IT IS TIME TO FOCUS ON THE DANGER! Hailing from Arnprior County , Standing a Measure of Seven Foot Two Inches Tall, and Weighting in tonight at Four Hundred and Twenty Pounds He is...The Fatal Phenomenon... He is the one... the only... The Body Bagging - Toe Tagging - Human Chop Shop! HE IS ALL HATE! D-B-R! ......Chop Shop!... SCOTT CARR!
All the while - the most ravenous and blood thirsty fans, who know the history behind PWR cheer his name hockey chanting "CHOP-SHOP - SCOTT CARR! CHOP-SHOP - SCOTT CARR! CHOP-SHOP - SCOTT CARR!" their girder rattling cries echo incessantly through the pitch darkness. The guttural roar that leads in "This Calling" by All That Remains echoes throughout the arena, "Yeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaahhoooowwwww!" snarls, as a solitary red spotlight on the entranceway appears just before Carr bursts through the curtain; his head is rocking to the beats of his own intro music, adorned with a "Scott Carr" stretch fit hat. "I secretly crave, crave that scent again. Still feel it pressing on me now. Now with the onset, my flesh is weakening. I steel my nerves for temptations at hand again!” He stands there while the lights begin to strobe red and black in time with the music as he runs his hand across somberly across his jaw as he leers out at the massive crowd. "And I hear this calling! Still you don't seem so far at all! And I hear this calling out" The darkness beneath his hat is covering his blood red eyes, and casting his face in shadow for a moment as he glares out from under it across the audience. We see a sadistic smile creep across his face as he lifts his head looking skyward towards the upper levels of the arena as his cult-like following of loyal career-long fans wave banners, swing t-shirts and thrust their action figures and other paraphernalia as high into the air as they can reach, most also letting fly their own Devil Horns high signs. "No secret deception, for these would tear this down. I'll note the past; spare the pain - spare the pain! Words match my deeds with brutal honesty! Never forget these choices were made by me" With most of the audience behind him it's harder now to hear those who oppose Carr's style, although they are still out there and between them all they do still have a powerful, audible voice - Carr's cruelty curled grin widens and growing ever more frightening and disturbing as his grin becomes a sadistic smile. The ramp way around Carr erupts in flames as he throws his hat into the audience while he roars back at his wild fans that are all still cheering so ravenously for him. "And I hear this calling! Still you don't seem so far at all! And I hear this calling! Still you don't seem so far at all And I hear - and I hear - this calling OOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUT!" Scott runs across the stage, roaring out to his fans, and calling on their chants, holding his Devil Horn high sign up for one and all - pumping them up into frenzy before he runs back across the stage to the far side, as he throws both arms up with his Devil horns high sign, his fans reply in kind with their pop and reciprocated hand gestures. "Not falling victim to the fire that burns inside of me! Though I am fearful I will not prevent this tragedy! My strength's been tested! I wear the scars that prove! Still I believe that this calling will see me through" Already in the audience we can see many fans who are brandishing PWR replica belts. Scott stops and unzips his hoody instead before he rips off his skully and tosses it to the crowd. Carr makes his way back to the center of the ramp way, flipping open his undone hoody. Scott pulls his hoody off and throws it into the other side of the crowd as he descends the ramp advancing towards the ring while a rain of sparks flies out from the ramp way beneath his feet sparkling just below the fans' hands reaching out into the ramp way, the red and black trails of sparks end up crossing all around Carr, as braggadocios and opinionated as he is, Scott's nearly constantly moving lips give us a good hint that he's doing some verbal chest pounding for anyone near enough to hear him. "And I hear this calling! Still you don't seem so far at all! And I hear this calling! Still you don't seem so far at all! And I hear - and I hear - this calling OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUT!" Carr reaches out into the audience. He slaps the palms and pounds the fists of the out stretched hands of the unsettlingly loud fans brandishing his merchandise. Scott makes his way across the ramp like this the whole way down, seeming to enjoy the contact with his sadistic fans on both sides of the ramp way although he does also seem to take great revelry in throwing the occasional middle finger in the faces of those who jeer him. Carr finishes his saunter down the last of ramp way, he then rolls under the bottom rope into the ring, rolling up to a knee in the middle of the PWR logo - he jumps to his feet and holds his right hand palm outstretched - towards the agitated and excited members of the crowd, as if feeling the air and electricity that pulses from their chants. Carr thrusts both arms into the air and the two ring posts and the apron behind him all erupt into a huge wall of flame that makes a silhouette out of him but lights the rest of the entire arena. "My strength's been tested; I wear the scars that prove! Still I believe that this calling will see me through! Still I believe this calling will see me through, oh!" - The lights finish their strobe and become normal as Scott steps back into the corner, he tightens the “FTW” belt buckle clasping his black leather belt and he cracks his neck. Carr stands back in his corner - his sadistic smile turns to an expression of cold calculating and methodically evil stone as he lays his eyes across the middle of the PWR Logo... a man who had just enjoyed so much fan contact now appears to have been engulfed in a severe emotional stone. The announcer and attending ref both seem wary of getting too close to this mammoth, monster of a man. But this in ring promo on this dark show is still scheduled to happen no matter how apprehensive they feel about it.
Al Walters: Well he we go with another profanity laden sales pitch brought to you by this ravenous Canadian.
David Saturn: He’s an animal, pure and simple. He doesn’t feel – he reacts. And he has the microphone…
Al Walters: I don’t know if Default is as ready as he thinks he is…
Carr- Default! Little man... You saw that match last week? Well good for you, cuddles. I’m sure while you were putting styling molder in your pretty fucking hair, you watched that scrap intensely – I’m sure you paid attention to every move I made and I am certain from your senseless fucking ramblings that you think that’s all I bring to the ring, eh? WELL YOU’RE WRONG YOU SAD ASSED LITTLE TESTICLE JUGGLING, BLOODY FUCK STAIN! You insult me, and my passion for this industry and THEN you have the unmitigated gall… the sheer audacity and utter stupidity to tell it all to ME as if I should not make it personal? How about this, shit for brains – They names it Fucking Right! It'll be a Massacre! I’m going to hand you a wholesale sized shipment of High Quality, Hand Dealt ass beating in such an unmerciful manner - they'll start calling you Defect instead of Default…
David Saturn: Wow… he’s pissed.
Al Walters: Like I said, after Default’s promo – I don’t think he’s ready for exactly what he’s got to go up against.
David Saturn: I hope Default has his medical insurance paid in full.
Al Walters: I hope PWR calls in a mortician! Default may need it!
Carr- You picked the wrong words to spew at the wrong motherfucker! And I don’t give a flying fuck at all if you respect me… I ONLY WANT YOU TO FEAR ME! I ONLY WANT TO SEE YOU SUFFER! I couldn’t care less for respect… because there is a very fine line between fear and respect… and although I can’t beat respect out of you – I can damned well stomp some fear into your sissy little ass! Mock me, motherfucker... bring on your WORST! Sticks and Stone won't break my bones - and your words are going to KILL YOU! You think last week was all I am? BITCH PLEASE! If you knew the half of what actually goes on in the world - you'd shut up twice as often. I've fought on every continent on this Planet! I have been part of companies that pulled shows in high school gymnasiums and I have been center stage in the main events of some of the largest federations this industry has! I've been there, bitch! I've paid my dues, I've traveled the roads and I'm still standing healthy as haulage horse! I don't care about you... I don't care about your want for victory... I commend your willingness to prove yourself so stupid by opening your mouth and vomiting out the verbal effluence you did... but the cold hard fact of the matter is just this - YOU WILL NOT WIN! YOUR PRISTINE ASS IS GETTING PUT INTO A MATCH AGAINST A MAN WHO WOULD RATHER TAKE A RAZOR BLADE TO YOUR WELL KEPT FACE THAN I WOULD APPLY A WRIST LOCK! This match offers me the chance to do exactly that... so the next time you address me - if there ever is a next time; then choose your words more carefully you little petulant puny prick! They might be the last you say in PWR... I can smell the stench of your lackluster commitment from here! I’ll beat your ass – and you’ll up and bail like a motherfucking flake! See… I need not to introduce myself and go back to explain my past as I am… call this a courtesy… call it a prelude… call it a big mean bastard putting you in your place like the punk ass fuck you are! Call it whatever the fuck suits you, pansy! Because when that bell rings – I have no mercy to spare you… I have no remorse… I have only but Hate and Pain to inflict and instill upon you. Between those bells… anything goes… no one can – and trust me, no one WILL stop me. You’re a little big for your britches just yet - but I’ll kick the seams out for you, so hold no worries, eh?
David Saturn: Did he just tell a full grown man he’s to big for his britches?
Al Walters: Yes he did.
David Saturn: Seriously?
Al Walters: Are you going to correct him?
David Saturn: No I was going to ask you to.
Al Walters: I doubt that will happen.
David Saturn: You’re a pussy.
Carr- I mean seriously… I know you came here to make a splash – and I’m all too happy to help you… mind you, that splash is going to be you falling face first and lifeless into a pool of your own expelled blood! You really did show everyone what a stunned cunt you are. I mean the bullshit you said, that was so totally above the board, eh? Nobody in the HISTORY of Wrestling EVER thought of saying EXACTLY that to an opponent before, eh? I mean that's as uncommon a as say an in ring promo, right? Next time you open your mouth to me... have a little originality! Put a fucking thought into it,Thunder Dunce! But right now... I'm ABOUT to enlighten you over opinionated, undereducated ass! You live in a fucking country where you claim it, but in all reality there is Not a fully functioning democracy; freedom of speech somewhat negated and controlled by corporatocratic media! Your nation's "High living standard" results largely from the cruel and ruthless exploitation of less-developed countries and abusive treatment of immigrants and women! Your country boasts Astronomical percentage of taxation which go to a defence budget and leave your people with substandard social spending health care! Your country has a Heavy pollution and ineffectual land management policies! Cultural diversity is totally undermined by Anglo-American patriotic rhetoric and crushed beneath the burden ridden culture of hero worship and rampant consumerism! You live in a fucking country where you're all looked upon as the world's bully, and mistrusted by much of the world's population - and rightly so. You, like the stereotype that cripples your nation are Insular and self-absorbed and frighteningly ignorant of Reality as a whole... yet you want to control much of that world as possible, especially it's resources. The food. It's a personal choice. There is much good and much bad, same as everywhere else... except your country's key health concern is too many fat fucks waddling up to the troughs at one of your plentiful fast foot binging facilities for yet another unnessicary feast of congealed fat and fried slop! Oh... and dumb bitch, The last letter of the alphabet: it is pronounced "zed" and the Metric system makes SO MUCH MORE SENSE! I mean three feet to a yard? One Thousand, Seven Hundred and Sixty yards in a Mile? NO! One Hundred Centimeters to a Meter - One hundred Meters to a Kilometer and STILL that's smaller than your mother's waist line and it appeals to A LOT more people! The smarter, more sensible way is used by the rest of the world, so get in step and shut the fuck up about it! You mock a man from country that keeps yours running and you talk smack to a man from one that keeps yours being fucking carpet bombed with nukes? Who goes in after the US rapes an impoverished country? CANADA! Who rebuilds the rubble you senseless twats leave behind overseas when you battle over your black blood money? CANADA! Who the fuck is disrespected for one million five hundred thousandth kilometers around this planet? YOU, BITCH - especially after this guy from CANADA KICKS THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF YOU! Default... spare me your witless fucking retorts... and... just try to understand the gravity and oxymoronic nature of what you said to me and how you went about it... I Am Hate! – I am the Abominable, Indomitable, Body Bagging – Toe Tagging Sick Ass Motherfucker! - I Will Never Lay Down - I Will Never Give Up! ....and I'm going to show you that, Defect. I'm going to find your limits and exceed them. If you run, I'll cut that ring down to a Meter and catch you. If you take to the skies, I'll pluck you from the air and SLAM YOU INTO THE CANVAS! I will see you broken, Defect. Then... while you lay in the middle of that ring with millions watching in awe and horror as you gurgle and choke on your own blood, just as you've figured out how absolutely FUCKED you are - I shall lay hands on you but once more before the pin fall that ends your night in a loss. As your spine snaps backwards across my knee while I spike you down with Furious Anger from Impossible Heights! You'll know that what you should have done all along was... Focus... on the... Danger!
David Saturn: Wow... he's scary.
Al Walters: So you keep saying.
David Saturn: Yeah but I mean, just... damn, Al - have you ever seen a man so intimidating?
Al Walters: Not besides Scott Carr, no.
David Saturn: Fear is in the eye of the beholder!
Al Walters: That's Beauty.
David Saturn: Well thank you, I just made it up.
Al Walters: What? NO! Beauty is in the eye of the beholder!
David Saturn: Well I wouldn't call Scott Carr a beauty. He's more of a beast.
Al Walters: I'd say from the fact that he's tossed away the microphone - Scott Carr is done addressing Lance Peterson for now.
David Saturn: He may be done addressing him, but he's going to Stamp and Label him during the Defiance main event!
Al Walters: This match marks Scott Carr's Second match, as well as proving to be a wonderful launch pad for Default - win, lose or draw - not many men The Amazing Default's size would go into a match like this as confidently as he seems to be. He's giving up more than a foot in height and he's outweighed more than two-fold. If they can back up their claims BOTH of these men may get their big break on bigger matches down the line. Default has his work cut out for him against such a big man. If he survives to fight another day, he already has bragging rights over some of Mr.Carr's former opponents.
"This Calling" by All That Remains begins playing again as Carr exits the ring and heads up towards the entrance curtain again, followed by the chants of the fired up audience who are all ellated to see the upcoming main event.
David Saturn: Default isn't afraid to face Scott Carr like so many others in PWR are!
Al Walters: No... I think that Default just isn't afraid - yet.
The scene fades to black.
Carr Burning Track of the Week:
[glow=red,2,300]"Purity" by Slipknot[/glow]