Post by Alexander "The Great" Parise on Aug 17, 2009 11:06:51 GMT -5
“Seifer, what I’m about to tell you is something that has been a suspicion of many over the years. When Alexander ‘The Great’ finally kicked back to rule what he had conquered, many believe that he was poisoned by one of his soldiers, a knight if you will. Now I can’t quite tell if your intentions towards Randy are…pure. Don’t get me wrong, under no twisted logic do I think Orton can be called Alexander, I just think his downfall won’t come at my hands. But Seifer, no one really believes in the love saga between you and Orton, or that you were struck by Cupid’s arrow, we can all see through this. You didn’t scout through the Anarchy roster to find someone who could take you under their wing, you were looking for someone who could carry you to the top, and when you were there you’d finally stab him in the back.”
Finally the camera comes to life and fades in. Alexander ‘The Great’ Parise is the solitary man standing in his locker room. Nothing much had changed since last time. The walls were a dark shade of blue, his beige coach sat in front of his small television and Alexander was standing over by the bar which took up a rather large portion of the room. Parise’s red sport jacket reflected the glare of the bright fluorescent lights, partially showing the camera’s reflection in the jacket. His blue jeans contrasted with the jacket, and as usual the main thing Parise wore was his smile. He slowly ran his hand through his spiked up hair before letting out a sigh.
“Seifer, your petty involvement in the team Orton calls ‘Legacy’ means nothing. Why they even bothered to take in a sad and pathetic misfit such as yourself is beyond me. But Randy, I’m a little surprised in the company you carry, I mean first it was Bourne and Rhodes who are lucky if they have one combined win to their name, and now there’s Seifer, you’re getting softer. The ‘Good Book’ says it’s better to give than to receive, but all I see is you getting more and more ‘body guards’ to cover your ass.”
Slowly Alexander pulls out a stool and sits down. The cameraman quickly runs around to the other side of the counter, keeping the shot on Alexander’s face.
“You think a little more money can buy your soul some rest, well you'd better think of something else. Seifer you’re so afraid of being honest with yourself. I think you’d better take a look inside your head. I’m guessing those two personalities aren’t co-existing quite as well as you thought they were. You have no idea the difference between right and wrong, you kill homeless people and bartenders like they don’t even matter. Did you ever stop to think exactly what there lives have been like? Sure, they may not get to be on their knees in front of Randy Orton all the time, but I think there might just be more to life than that.”
“Not a while back I discovered that being a murderous psychopath runs in the family, it seems like everyone around here has their own daddy issues to worry about. It’s always nice to see a family falling apart; it always makes you feel better about your own. But quite frankly I’d like to know why you’re even in this business. Just because you took karate when you were in grade eight doesn’t mean you can wrestle. You’re in the big leagues now, and beating Evan Bourne doesn’t exactly mean much. You can’t run away from your problems, Seifer, your dad, what was that bitches name…I can’t remember, but you know who I’m talking about. It doesn’t end when you leave. You can’t make a new name for yourself here because your old one is still alive and kicking. So until you kill the old Seifer, there is no Seifer in FCW.”
Parise pours himself a glass of scotch and slowly swallows down the drink. He wipes his mouth before knotting his two hands together and looking into the camera.
“Randy, I know you’re watching, I know your listening. This week you and I team together, but under no misinterpreted form of logic are we friends, or partners. You just stay the hell out of my way until I finish off the match, and then you can step in line. I don’t know why but I just feel like fighting you, Orton. Your cowardice tactics disgust me. After I’m done with Seifer and you’re done with Gimmick, and let’s face it, we both will be pretty soon; I want you in the ring. I want to fight you one on one and I want to decimate you. I will destroy you. You won’t have your ‘Legacy’ you won’t have anything. You have no respect for anyone, Randy, that includes your men. You don’t care about them, you’re just using them. They worship the ground you walk on, and for what? In the hope of getting your sloppy seconds? I don’t know what kinds of people want that paraphernalia but no one sane. I suppose that’s why you have Seifer Blacke, with several multiple personalities. Evan Bourne, what’d he do, murder his soul? And Cody Rhodes, well, he’s Cody Rhodes. Other than them nobody cares about you, and soon you’ll lose everything, and I’ll laugh. Get ready, Randy, the fan has just begun.”
Parise smirks and let’s out a small laugh. The laugh sounds twisted, but soon Parise settles down. He gets control of himself and once again runs his hand through his hair before he speaks through his smile.
“Now, Triple H and Virus. Hunter, you’re hunter. You’re old. Weak. What the hell are you still doing here? I thought we got rid of you in the third week of FCW. I got rid of you. Now you’re back? You’re not welcome here, and I’m going to make sure you feel that in the form of my boot hitting your ass on your way out. Now, Virus. I’m sorry if I’m not all that intrigued by yet another ‘Lost Prophet’, but I’ve seen enough them. Virus, you’re no God; you’re just a sick, sick man. You weren’t sent here to ‘cleanse the land of sinners’ you’re here because you want a paycheck, and let me tell you something, you won’t get it. I’m gunna make sure I hit you so hard you go straight back into hell. I will…”
Before Parise can continue he is cut off by a ringing noise. Alexander rolls his eyes and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out his phone and looks at the caller ID. His bored eyes quickly light up as he sees the caller. He quickly flips the phone open and listens. After a minute or two of Parise simply nodding his head somehow his face lights up even more, finally he begins to laugh, the laugh sends shivers through the cameraman’s body but Parise doesn’t care.
“Thanks, there’s a lot of money in this for you.”
Parise hangs up the phone and continues to laugh. After a few minutes of Parise just laughing he remembers the camera, all of FCW watching. He quickly regains himself and looks back into the camera, just a regular expression but the glow is still visible in his eyes.
“You know, there are many views on this world, this life. Some people think we deserve to be saved, some don’t. But all in all, I don’t think we are one world. You look at people like Randy Orton and the first thing that crosses your mind is evil. People like Randy, and Seifer, they don’t deserve saving. Randy, I beat you once. That’s why I’m the champion and you’re not. That’s why you have Legacy, so maybe next time with three people under you, you will be saved. But it won’t happen. You’re not worthy, Randy, and it’s time you open your eyes. Seifer, you’re just the first pawn to be taken, the game is only just beginning. And you’re caught in the middle of it, so strap in.”
Parise smiles as he turns on his heels and walks out. He grabs his coat and throws it in over his sport jacket. The camera tries to keep up, but Parise is already out the back exit and into the parking lot, gone.
End of RP
Finally the camera comes to life and fades in. Alexander ‘The Great’ Parise is the solitary man standing in his locker room. Nothing much had changed since last time. The walls were a dark shade of blue, his beige coach sat in front of his small television and Alexander was standing over by the bar which took up a rather large portion of the room. Parise’s red sport jacket reflected the glare of the bright fluorescent lights, partially showing the camera’s reflection in the jacket. His blue jeans contrasted with the jacket, and as usual the main thing Parise wore was his smile. He slowly ran his hand through his spiked up hair before letting out a sigh.
“Seifer, your petty involvement in the team Orton calls ‘Legacy’ means nothing. Why they even bothered to take in a sad and pathetic misfit such as yourself is beyond me. But Randy, I’m a little surprised in the company you carry, I mean first it was Bourne and Rhodes who are lucky if they have one combined win to their name, and now there’s Seifer, you’re getting softer. The ‘Good Book’ says it’s better to give than to receive, but all I see is you getting more and more ‘body guards’ to cover your ass.”
Slowly Alexander pulls out a stool and sits down. The cameraman quickly runs around to the other side of the counter, keeping the shot on Alexander’s face.
“You think a little more money can buy your soul some rest, well you'd better think of something else. Seifer you’re so afraid of being honest with yourself. I think you’d better take a look inside your head. I’m guessing those two personalities aren’t co-existing quite as well as you thought they were. You have no idea the difference between right and wrong, you kill homeless people and bartenders like they don’t even matter. Did you ever stop to think exactly what there lives have been like? Sure, they may not get to be on their knees in front of Randy Orton all the time, but I think there might just be more to life than that.”
“Not a while back I discovered that being a murderous psychopath runs in the family, it seems like everyone around here has their own daddy issues to worry about. It’s always nice to see a family falling apart; it always makes you feel better about your own. But quite frankly I’d like to know why you’re even in this business. Just because you took karate when you were in grade eight doesn’t mean you can wrestle. You’re in the big leagues now, and beating Evan Bourne doesn’t exactly mean much. You can’t run away from your problems, Seifer, your dad, what was that bitches name…I can’t remember, but you know who I’m talking about. It doesn’t end when you leave. You can’t make a new name for yourself here because your old one is still alive and kicking. So until you kill the old Seifer, there is no Seifer in FCW.”
Parise pours himself a glass of scotch and slowly swallows down the drink. He wipes his mouth before knotting his two hands together and looking into the camera.
“Randy, I know you’re watching, I know your listening. This week you and I team together, but under no misinterpreted form of logic are we friends, or partners. You just stay the hell out of my way until I finish off the match, and then you can step in line. I don’t know why but I just feel like fighting you, Orton. Your cowardice tactics disgust me. After I’m done with Seifer and you’re done with Gimmick, and let’s face it, we both will be pretty soon; I want you in the ring. I want to fight you one on one and I want to decimate you. I will destroy you. You won’t have your ‘Legacy’ you won’t have anything. You have no respect for anyone, Randy, that includes your men. You don’t care about them, you’re just using them. They worship the ground you walk on, and for what? In the hope of getting your sloppy seconds? I don’t know what kinds of people want that paraphernalia but no one sane. I suppose that’s why you have Seifer Blacke, with several multiple personalities. Evan Bourne, what’d he do, murder his soul? And Cody Rhodes, well, he’s Cody Rhodes. Other than them nobody cares about you, and soon you’ll lose everything, and I’ll laugh. Get ready, Randy, the fan has just begun.”
Parise smirks and let’s out a small laugh. The laugh sounds twisted, but soon Parise settles down. He gets control of himself and once again runs his hand through his hair before he speaks through his smile.
“Now, Triple H and Virus. Hunter, you’re hunter. You’re old. Weak. What the hell are you still doing here? I thought we got rid of you in the third week of FCW. I got rid of you. Now you’re back? You’re not welcome here, and I’m going to make sure you feel that in the form of my boot hitting your ass on your way out. Now, Virus. I’m sorry if I’m not all that intrigued by yet another ‘Lost Prophet’, but I’ve seen enough them. Virus, you’re no God; you’re just a sick, sick man. You weren’t sent here to ‘cleanse the land of sinners’ you’re here because you want a paycheck, and let me tell you something, you won’t get it. I’m gunna make sure I hit you so hard you go straight back into hell. I will…”
Before Parise can continue he is cut off by a ringing noise. Alexander rolls his eyes and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out his phone and looks at the caller ID. His bored eyes quickly light up as he sees the caller. He quickly flips the phone open and listens. After a minute or two of Parise simply nodding his head somehow his face lights up even more, finally he begins to laugh, the laugh sends shivers through the cameraman’s body but Parise doesn’t care.
“Thanks, there’s a lot of money in this for you.”
Parise hangs up the phone and continues to laugh. After a few minutes of Parise just laughing he remembers the camera, all of FCW watching. He quickly regains himself and looks back into the camera, just a regular expression but the glow is still visible in his eyes.
“You know, there are many views on this world, this life. Some people think we deserve to be saved, some don’t. But all in all, I don’t think we are one world. You look at people like Randy Orton and the first thing that crosses your mind is evil. People like Randy, and Seifer, they don’t deserve saving. Randy, I beat you once. That’s why I’m the champion and you’re not. That’s why you have Legacy, so maybe next time with three people under you, you will be saved. But it won’t happen. You’re not worthy, Randy, and it’s time you open your eyes. Seifer, you’re just the first pawn to be taken, the game is only just beginning. And you’re caught in the middle of it, so strap in.”
Parise smiles as he turns on his heels and walks out. He grabs his coat and throws it in over his sport jacket. The camera tries to keep up, but Parise is already out the back exit and into the parking lot, gone.
End of RP
