Post by Randy Orton on May 22, 2009 3:17:01 GMT -5
Since the re-emergence of FCW, one man has stood apart from the rest. One man has clearly positioned himself on the top of the roster. That man is Randy Orton, the same man who has consistently outdone the competition. As the long awaited pay per view, Second Coming draws ever closer, yet another Friday Night Anarchy is here. Yet another opportunity to demonstrate just how dominate Orton is over the competition. This week Orton is once again forced to team up with a man he cares little for, Jimmy Gimmick. As the fans settle into their seats and prepare for the show, a video begins to play on the titan-tron.
At first all we see is the feet of an individual running. As the camera pans out we see it is Randy Orton. It is early morning the sun yet to rise. It is an empty highway in the middle of nowhere. A slow beat begins as the camera stays focused on Orton, wearing a hoody, with the hood on his head. As his feet thump the pavement, his voice is heard. "I stand alone at the top. I am the leader. Others follow. I set the pace. I will stop at nothing. No one else compares to me. I am the epitome of greatness. I am the symbol of success. I am the one you must go through to be the best. Give up now, because I can not, I will not be beat."
As the screen goes black, pyro explodes inside the arena, and "Voices" by Rev Theory begins to play across the PA. Orton emerges from the back, dressed in a black "Defiance" t-shirt. He stands on the ramp and looks around the arena with an expression of pure disgust. Slowly, he makes his way down the aisle. As he enters the ring, he is handed a mic. The music stops as he begins to speak.
"Once again I find myself involved in a tag team match. Once again I am forced to team with a partner that can barely carry his own weight. While I don't like it, it makes no difference as to the outcome of the match. They could team me up with a comatose vegetable, and I would win. I am the best FCW has to offer, and every week I prove it. Last week Chris Jericho did me a favor and removed his worthless ass from the match, and I won on my own. I always win. I am unbeatable. There is no one in the universe who can beat me."
Orton continues to stare into the crowd with a look of contempt. The fans boo loudly, and Orton ignores them as he continues.
"Earlier Jimmy Gimmick provided a critique of my career and my personality, so I find it only fair to return the favor. You see gimmick, you are as your ring name implies a gimmick. A walking, talking, work. Every facet of your persona is a planned, carefully orchestrated, facade. You strive to convince people that you are some innovator, some original, cutting edge, intellectual. In reality Gimmick you are nothing more than a fraud. You believe you possess some great knowledge? You believe anyone in this company gives a damn. You want to be original in a business where anybody worth mentioning has the exact same goal? I could care less if I'm original, so long as I continue to destroy everyone in my path. As far as wanting people to hate me, getting cheap heat? I could care less what people think of me, but I will continue to tell these people how much I despise them, because it's the truth. I hate anyone who doesn't devote their life to being the best. I despise anyone who settles for mediocrity, who consume their time living vicariously through others. As far as your concerned Jimmy, aside from being the obviously least physically impressive man on this roster, you're easy to read. You were some nobody who watched too many Vincent Price movies, and read the biography of PT Barnum one too many times. Maybe you had some success promoting yourself, but apart from that you are wholly inconsequential. Stay out of my way or I'll bury you."
Apparently finished, and content with having got that off his chest Orton switches gears.
"As for my opponents, Triple H, Gimmick was at least right about you. How you are still considered relevant is beyond me. Your DX act was tired in 98, and the big mean sledgehammer Triple H at least by 2003. You are quite frankly not welcome in this business anymore. You are little more than Hulk Hogan was when you broke into the industry. A broken down, embarrassment, who somehow manages to tear his quad walking to the ring. Nobody cares anymore Paul. We're past you. Frankly I think this sport is tired of being forced to tolerate your presence. You may have compiled a few victories here, but you have yet to step into the ring with the most incredible athlete in the world today. The grand scheme hasn't changed, I've dominated my singles matches, and earned the victory every time I've been forced to team with someone. There is not a snowball's chance in hell that I will be defeated any time soon.Triple H, even though I'm not through with Jericho, this time I may just have to pay special attention to you. Maybe I can rid this company of you once and for all."
Orton paces the ring, raising a hand to rub his forehead. He inhales a breath as he continues speaking.
"And Jericho, I haven't forgotten about you. I still plan on going through with destroying your career, credibility, and dreams of championship gold. This thing we have is nearing it's end, and I will go on to bigger and better things. You, however will only slide further into the living hell I've turned your miserable life into. This match is just one more preview of the things that are in store for you. last week, your pathetic attempts at mind games only served to further demonstrate to the world my unmatchable skill. A demonstration of the fact that I need no help to win tag matches single handedly. My advice to you Jericho, feign an injury, take some time off, miss Second coming, and quietly make your return staying as far away from me as possible. The FCW is only in the beginning stages of the age of Defiance. Jericho, Triple H, and even you Jimmy Gimmick, pay close attention. Witness first hand just what the greatest professional wrestler alive on the planet today looks like. Get used to it, because I'm the best and I'm not going anywhere."
With that Orton simply drops the mic. He mounts a turnbuckle, as his theme hits again, extending his arms in his classic pose.
At first all we see is the feet of an individual running. As the camera pans out we see it is Randy Orton. It is early morning the sun yet to rise. It is an empty highway in the middle of nowhere. A slow beat begins as the camera stays focused on Orton, wearing a hoody, with the hood on his head. As his feet thump the pavement, his voice is heard. "I stand alone at the top. I am the leader. Others follow. I set the pace. I will stop at nothing. No one else compares to me. I am the epitome of greatness. I am the symbol of success. I am the one you must go through to be the best. Give up now, because I can not, I will not be beat."
As the screen goes black, pyro explodes inside the arena, and "Voices" by Rev Theory begins to play across the PA. Orton emerges from the back, dressed in a black "Defiance" t-shirt. He stands on the ramp and looks around the arena with an expression of pure disgust. Slowly, he makes his way down the aisle. As he enters the ring, he is handed a mic. The music stops as he begins to speak.
"Once again I find myself involved in a tag team match. Once again I am forced to team with a partner that can barely carry his own weight. While I don't like it, it makes no difference as to the outcome of the match. They could team me up with a comatose vegetable, and I would win. I am the best FCW has to offer, and every week I prove it. Last week Chris Jericho did me a favor and removed his worthless ass from the match, and I won on my own. I always win. I am unbeatable. There is no one in the universe who can beat me."
Orton continues to stare into the crowd with a look of contempt. The fans boo loudly, and Orton ignores them as he continues.
"Earlier Jimmy Gimmick provided a critique of my career and my personality, so I find it only fair to return the favor. You see gimmick, you are as your ring name implies a gimmick. A walking, talking, work. Every facet of your persona is a planned, carefully orchestrated, facade. You strive to convince people that you are some innovator, some original, cutting edge, intellectual. In reality Gimmick you are nothing more than a fraud. You believe you possess some great knowledge? You believe anyone in this company gives a damn. You want to be original in a business where anybody worth mentioning has the exact same goal? I could care less if I'm original, so long as I continue to destroy everyone in my path. As far as wanting people to hate me, getting cheap heat? I could care less what people think of me, but I will continue to tell these people how much I despise them, because it's the truth. I hate anyone who doesn't devote their life to being the best. I despise anyone who settles for mediocrity, who consume their time living vicariously through others. As far as your concerned Jimmy, aside from being the obviously least physically impressive man on this roster, you're easy to read. You were some nobody who watched too many Vincent Price movies, and read the biography of PT Barnum one too many times. Maybe you had some success promoting yourself, but apart from that you are wholly inconsequential. Stay out of my way or I'll bury you."
Apparently finished, and content with having got that off his chest Orton switches gears.
"As for my opponents, Triple H, Gimmick was at least right about you. How you are still considered relevant is beyond me. Your DX act was tired in 98, and the big mean sledgehammer Triple H at least by 2003. You are quite frankly not welcome in this business anymore. You are little more than Hulk Hogan was when you broke into the industry. A broken down, embarrassment, who somehow manages to tear his quad walking to the ring. Nobody cares anymore Paul. We're past you. Frankly I think this sport is tired of being forced to tolerate your presence. You may have compiled a few victories here, but you have yet to step into the ring with the most incredible athlete in the world today. The grand scheme hasn't changed, I've dominated my singles matches, and earned the victory every time I've been forced to team with someone. There is not a snowball's chance in hell that I will be defeated any time soon.Triple H, even though I'm not through with Jericho, this time I may just have to pay special attention to you. Maybe I can rid this company of you once and for all."
Orton paces the ring, raising a hand to rub his forehead. He inhales a breath as he continues speaking.
"And Jericho, I haven't forgotten about you. I still plan on going through with destroying your career, credibility, and dreams of championship gold. This thing we have is nearing it's end, and I will go on to bigger and better things. You, however will only slide further into the living hell I've turned your miserable life into. This match is just one more preview of the things that are in store for you. last week, your pathetic attempts at mind games only served to further demonstrate to the world my unmatchable skill. A demonstration of the fact that I need no help to win tag matches single handedly. My advice to you Jericho, feign an injury, take some time off, miss Second coming, and quietly make your return staying as far away from me as possible. The FCW is only in the beginning stages of the age of Defiance. Jericho, Triple H, and even you Jimmy Gimmick, pay close attention. Witness first hand just what the greatest professional wrestler alive on the planet today looks like. Get used to it, because I'm the best and I'm not going anywhere."
With that Orton simply drops the mic. He mounts a turnbuckle, as his theme hits again, extending his arms in his classic pose.
