Post by Alexander "The Great" Parise on Aug 14, 2009 0:17:53 GMT -5
“Mr. Parise, how do you feel about facing Mr. Kennedy at Summer Salvation?”
Parise stopped, the reporters were already pushing their luck with all the questions, and Alexander was getting tired. He turned to the army of reporters and smiled. His pearly white teeth reflected the glare of the camera lenses and momentarily left the screen white.
“Stop.”
Alexander ‘The Great’ couldn’t help but have déjà vu as he stood before a mirror, wearing a nice suit and straightening his tie. After a moment or two of fidgeting his confident and ready smile returned to the World Champion, and he stuffed his hand’s deep into his pockets before dropping a few dollars in loose change to the ground.
“Alright, you can do this. Just a couple of dudes asking questions. Just the same old redundant crap. You’ve handled it before.”
But there was an off-setting feeling inside Parise, something that just didn’t feel right. It could have been the death of RM Voglur, or something more, something….deeper. But Parise just couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
Parise looks over his shoulder, examining his surroundings before turning and kicking open the bathroom door which in turn begins to sway back and forth, slowly coming to a halt. With that Parise walks down the hall, decorated with pictures and wallpaper, with his location still unknown. Just as Parise rounds a corner he is taken aback and almost goes right through the roof as a rather eccentric looking fan startles him.
“Woah! You’re…you’re, you’re Alexander ‘The Great’! This is such an honor, man I respect you so much.”
After Parise regains himself he looks at the man as if he had two heads. The two stare back and forth for a while, before Alexander speaks.
“My friend there isn’t heroes today because at the end of the day people don’t respect people, they envy them, and they just wait for them to screw up. It’s just human nature, so, no, I won’t sign t-shirt, or picture, or whatever it is you want.
Alexander walks by the man who is left, confused and in shock, not expecting such a cold response from the Champion.
After another minute or so of Parise walking down the hall, getting a chance to prepare himself for what he knew waited for him he stepped threw a back door, a door that would usually lead to the quiet city streets, but not on this day. The alley was filled with reporters, either carrying microphones or cameras. Flashes start going off, signaling that Parise’s suit clad picture will be posted all over the FCW website later that day. Parise tries to calm the crowd but can’t, and so he just gives in. The camera that had been following Parise is still the one that the fans see through, and the man carrying it slowly gets pushed the ranks of the men waiting for a world from the champion, and soon Parise’s image isn’t quite as close as it used to be. After a while of constant shouting the media men begin to lose their breath, and one’s man voice rises up, clearly raising the question that everyone had on their minds.
“Parise, do you have any comments on the passing of your boss, Richard Voglur?”
Parise looks into the man’s eyes, and for a moment Parise looks like he might strangle the man, but slowly he regains himself.
“I have nothing to say that no one else in FCW wouldn’t say, he was a good business man, never really had a relationship with him, though, he didn’t want to be bothered by….employees.”
“But what about the confrontation you had with him in the hospital, just a few days before he passed away if I’m not mistaken.”
“If you’re insinuating that I had something to do with that then I’m afraid you’ve lost touch with reality, I just wanted to meet the man who signed my pay checks before I never got another chance. I refuse to answer any more questions on that topic, if you have something relevant to ask, ask away, but I’m not speaking on that subject anymore.”
The reporters are silent for a moment before another man speaks up, asking a different question.
“This week you face Cody Rhodes; do you have any thoughts on him, your match?”
Parise smiles for a moment, thinking over the simple and straight-forward question. Finally he answers, but not in a typical response.
“Ah, Cody Rhodes, the perfect son. My boy I have done my homework, or what there was to look up in the first place. See, Cody, you aren’t exactly what I would call complicated. You’re a fraud, and a simple hick carrying around a nice family lisp, there ain’t much more than that. I like a good mystery, but I’m afraid the plot that is Cody Rhodes does not thicken, and we’re all stuck his….futile journey. So my thoughts on my match, it may not be like every other match, it’ll be easier.”
Parise smiles, and as he turns to leave he is quickly stopped by another question.
“Who is the man that you have been meeting, and could he have something to do with Voglur?”
“Duplicity is common amongst men, just remember that. You people look too hard, you try to find some big conspiracy that isn’t there, and he’s just an old college friend of mine.”
There is barely a moment’s pause before someone quickly responds.
“I thought you didn’t go to college…”
With that it is silent for the first time, and Parise cracks a slight smile, trying to lighten the mood.
“I just meant a friend from back around those times, I’m sorry if I have to clarify every little thing with you people, even when it means nothing.”
“How are things with you and Gimmick these days?”
“Well I’m not quite ready to buy the man dinner, but I’m sure we’re getting there. What do you think, the man has lost touch with reality and I’m just glad to be out of his paranoia filled life. It’s over.”
Parise can’t crack his usual smirk, clearly there is nothing funny about the topic of conversation. But it changes soon, being turned towards a lighter topic.
“Mr. Parise, how do you feel about facing Mr. Kennedy at Summer Salvation?”
Parise stopped, the reporters were already pushing their luck with all the questions, and Alexander was getting tired. He turned to the army of reporters and smiled. His pearly white teeth reflected the glare of the camera lenses and momentarily left the screen white.
“Stop.”
With those words the men stop, as if Parise had the power to shut them up all this time.
“You know, we all need to believe in heroes, and even the best ones are far from perfect. Kennedy is not the man people think he is, he’ll cut corners, take shortcuts just to get ahead, all this time he’s just been waiting for the right time to throw himself in the main event, but clearly he isn’t as smart as he thinks he is. He assumes that because I’m coming off this whole thing with Gimmick I’m vulnerable, but he’s wrong, I’m stronger than ever, and he, he is weak. He still thinks he can fight in the main event, even though he’s been sitting behind his desk for a over a year, and even before that he wasn’t exactly what I would call World Title material. So somehow I don’t think people are going to get their money’s worth at Summer Salvation, unless they are paying to see Kennedy get his ass kicked, which I guess wouldn’t be that far off…I’d say that about calls it a day. I’ve answered enough of your questions, so leave me be. I will be waiting ever so anxiously for our next meeting, but until then, adios.”
With that Alexander turns and quickly walks back inside, avoiding any possible questions that the men might still have. Alexander makes his way down the hall, but soon comes to a stop, and this time it isn’t a fan. He is face to face with his alleged ‘friend’ again, and Parise has one question on his mind.
“Did you do it? Did you kill him?”
End of RP
Parise stopped, the reporters were already pushing their luck with all the questions, and Alexander was getting tired. He turned to the army of reporters and smiled. His pearly white teeth reflected the glare of the camera lenses and momentarily left the screen white.
“Stop.”
------------------------------------
Alexander ‘The Great’ couldn’t help but have déjà vu as he stood before a mirror, wearing a nice suit and straightening his tie. After a moment or two of fidgeting his confident and ready smile returned to the World Champion, and he stuffed his hand’s deep into his pockets before dropping a few dollars in loose change to the ground.
“Alright, you can do this. Just a couple of dudes asking questions. Just the same old redundant crap. You’ve handled it before.”
But there was an off-setting feeling inside Parise, something that just didn’t feel right. It could have been the death of RM Voglur, or something more, something….deeper. But Parise just couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
Parise looks over his shoulder, examining his surroundings before turning and kicking open the bathroom door which in turn begins to sway back and forth, slowly coming to a halt. With that Parise walks down the hall, decorated with pictures and wallpaper, with his location still unknown. Just as Parise rounds a corner he is taken aback and almost goes right through the roof as a rather eccentric looking fan startles him.
“Woah! You’re…you’re, you’re Alexander ‘The Great’! This is such an honor, man I respect you so much.”
After Parise regains himself he looks at the man as if he had two heads. The two stare back and forth for a while, before Alexander speaks.
“My friend there isn’t heroes today because at the end of the day people don’t respect people, they envy them, and they just wait for them to screw up. It’s just human nature, so, no, I won’t sign t-shirt, or picture, or whatever it is you want.
Alexander walks by the man who is left, confused and in shock, not expecting such a cold response from the Champion.
After another minute or so of Parise walking down the hall, getting a chance to prepare himself for what he knew waited for him he stepped threw a back door, a door that would usually lead to the quiet city streets, but not on this day. The alley was filled with reporters, either carrying microphones or cameras. Flashes start going off, signaling that Parise’s suit clad picture will be posted all over the FCW website later that day. Parise tries to calm the crowd but can’t, and so he just gives in. The camera that had been following Parise is still the one that the fans see through, and the man carrying it slowly gets pushed the ranks of the men waiting for a world from the champion, and soon Parise’s image isn’t quite as close as it used to be. After a while of constant shouting the media men begin to lose their breath, and one’s man voice rises up, clearly raising the question that everyone had on their minds.
“Parise, do you have any comments on the passing of your boss, Richard Voglur?”
Parise looks into the man’s eyes, and for a moment Parise looks like he might strangle the man, but slowly he regains himself.
“I have nothing to say that no one else in FCW wouldn’t say, he was a good business man, never really had a relationship with him, though, he didn’t want to be bothered by….employees.”
“But what about the confrontation you had with him in the hospital, just a few days before he passed away if I’m not mistaken.”
“If you’re insinuating that I had something to do with that then I’m afraid you’ve lost touch with reality, I just wanted to meet the man who signed my pay checks before I never got another chance. I refuse to answer any more questions on that topic, if you have something relevant to ask, ask away, but I’m not speaking on that subject anymore.”
The reporters are silent for a moment before another man speaks up, asking a different question.
“This week you face Cody Rhodes; do you have any thoughts on him, your match?”
Parise smiles for a moment, thinking over the simple and straight-forward question. Finally he answers, but not in a typical response.
“Ah, Cody Rhodes, the perfect son. My boy I have done my homework, or what there was to look up in the first place. See, Cody, you aren’t exactly what I would call complicated. You’re a fraud, and a simple hick carrying around a nice family lisp, there ain’t much more than that. I like a good mystery, but I’m afraid the plot that is Cody Rhodes does not thicken, and we’re all stuck his….futile journey. So my thoughts on my match, it may not be like every other match, it’ll be easier.”
Parise smiles, and as he turns to leave he is quickly stopped by another question.
“Who is the man that you have been meeting, and could he have something to do with Voglur?”
“Duplicity is common amongst men, just remember that. You people look too hard, you try to find some big conspiracy that isn’t there, and he’s just an old college friend of mine.”
There is barely a moment’s pause before someone quickly responds.
“I thought you didn’t go to college…”
With that it is silent for the first time, and Parise cracks a slight smile, trying to lighten the mood.
“I just meant a friend from back around those times, I’m sorry if I have to clarify every little thing with you people, even when it means nothing.”
“How are things with you and Gimmick these days?”
“Well I’m not quite ready to buy the man dinner, but I’m sure we’re getting there. What do you think, the man has lost touch with reality and I’m just glad to be out of his paranoia filled life. It’s over.”
Parise can’t crack his usual smirk, clearly there is nothing funny about the topic of conversation. But it changes soon, being turned towards a lighter topic.
“Mr. Parise, how do you feel about facing Mr. Kennedy at Summer Salvation?”
Parise stopped, the reporters were already pushing their luck with all the questions, and Alexander was getting tired. He turned to the army of reporters and smiled. His pearly white teeth reflected the glare of the camera lenses and momentarily left the screen white.
“Stop.”
With those words the men stop, as if Parise had the power to shut them up all this time.
“You know, we all need to believe in heroes, and even the best ones are far from perfect. Kennedy is not the man people think he is, he’ll cut corners, take shortcuts just to get ahead, all this time he’s just been waiting for the right time to throw himself in the main event, but clearly he isn’t as smart as he thinks he is. He assumes that because I’m coming off this whole thing with Gimmick I’m vulnerable, but he’s wrong, I’m stronger than ever, and he, he is weak. He still thinks he can fight in the main event, even though he’s been sitting behind his desk for a over a year, and even before that he wasn’t exactly what I would call World Title material. So somehow I don’t think people are going to get their money’s worth at Summer Salvation, unless they are paying to see Kennedy get his ass kicked, which I guess wouldn’t be that far off…I’d say that about calls it a day. I’ve answered enough of your questions, so leave me be. I will be waiting ever so anxiously for our next meeting, but until then, adios.”
With that Alexander turns and quickly walks back inside, avoiding any possible questions that the men might still have. Alexander makes his way down the hall, but soon comes to a stop, and this time it isn’t a fan. He is face to face with his alleged ‘friend’ again, and Parise has one question on his mind.
“Did you do it? Did you kill him?”
End of RP