Post by Randy Orton on Aug 19, 2009 23:45:29 GMT -5
Orton shifts impatiently as he stands in front of the camera. The agitation evident on his face as he sighs rather loudly. A voice is heard off camera, "Okay Randy, we're ready when you are." Orton looks hatefully in the direction of the unseen speaker. He focuses his eyes on the camera as he begins to speak,
"Every morning I wake up to the realization that everyone with a brain considers me the best there is at what I do. I begin my day, knowing that the general consensus is that I am the greatest athlete of my era. I show up to the various arenas this company visits, with the comforting knowledge that every "superstar" in this company is fully aware that they are beneath me. Imagine my frustration when some pretender goes mouthing off behind the safety of a camera lens."
Orton clears his throat and looks toward the ground. He looks different in a way that is not readily evident. His demeanor is slightly off. He appears more calculating with every word, showing a verbal restraint that is both unusual and un-nerving.
"This week FCW continues to demonstrate it's fixation with odd tag teams. Teaming people who would never in a hundred years voluntarily team up. It isn't random by any means, it is an attempt to win over the audience. It is a ratings ploy. An attempt to keep the people guessing, and watching. It makes no difference to me, I'll do what I always do, and win. My partner? None other than Alexander "the pretty good" Parise. I find it both humorous and spineless, the way Alexander Parise shot off at the mouth in his latest promo. Parise, you low life, how dare you insinuate that finding your name opposite mine on a card would fill your heart with anything other than dread and despair."
Orton's voice raises and the now familiar look of rage slowly begins to resurface on his face.
"You dare to claim you have ever beaten me? Parise, I wouldn't bring up 'Last Resort' if I were you. The whole world saw me destroy two of my opponents in that match before you took advantage of my hard work. The fact is Parise, there isn't a person in this world who would bet on you against me. No one that isn't living in a padded cell that is. You dare to make accusations about the nature of my relationship with the other members of Legacy? What would you know about fighting smart? Improving one's self through association and tutelage."
"No Parise, you know nothing about what goes on inside Legacy. You can't even begin to cogitate the things we discuss. The things we have already discussed regarding you. Your feeble and transparent attempt to cause friction between Seifer Blacke and myself only served to make us both laugh at you with the utmost derision. Seifer Blacke and I realize the mutually beneficial nature of our relationship is backed by the bottom line. It is measured in success, and I'd say we have both been pretty successful thus far."
"Seifer Blacke is more than ready for you. I have no doubt he will take that title from you. When he does, we will as he stated, address that issue. In the meantime, it would behoove you not to make such imbecilic statements as "you look forward to facing me." Parise you don't look forward to facing me. You never want that. Quit lying to everyone. Quit lying to yourself. I think though, that when I am done with Gimmick, I WILL come looking for you. I will do to you what I did to the last false champion, expose you for the mid card fraud you are."
Orton clears his throat once more, running a hand across his head.
"You don't need to tell anyone we aren't friends, the whole world knows that I would never associate with the likes of you. I will play along. I will do my job at Anarchy, but after I get the win, I don't wanna see you anywhere around. Victory is always my goal, and the losing combination of Triple H, and Virus are two individuals FCW needs a whole lot less of. This match is a disgrace to me. Being placed in the same ring with such common trash as those two jobbers already has me in a foul mood. So guys, I wouldn't wanna be you. In fact, I seriously doubt anyone on this roster would blame either of you if you just stayed home. I mean Triple H, how many times have you tried? At this point you're just depredating any reputation you ever had. And Virus, at the risk of agreeing with Parise, we've all seen more than enough "tortured souls" and "fallen angels." No one is impressed anymore. This is a golden opportunity for you boys. A golden opportunity that is just going to be impossible to capitilize on."
"And on a personal note, Jimmy I hope you'll be watching. I hope you study real close. Because, you are first and foremost on my mind Jimmy. The clock is ticking, and soon there will be no more time for talking. Words will be of no more use."
Orton begins to take the mic off his shirt, but he speaks up one last time. "Boys when I'm busy putting you through Hell, you can blame Alexander Parise for putting me in such a foul mood."
Orton casually walks away, glancing hatefully toward the camera one last time.
"Every morning I wake up to the realization that everyone with a brain considers me the best there is at what I do. I begin my day, knowing that the general consensus is that I am the greatest athlete of my era. I show up to the various arenas this company visits, with the comforting knowledge that every "superstar" in this company is fully aware that they are beneath me. Imagine my frustration when some pretender goes mouthing off behind the safety of a camera lens."
Orton clears his throat and looks toward the ground. He looks different in a way that is not readily evident. His demeanor is slightly off. He appears more calculating with every word, showing a verbal restraint that is both unusual and un-nerving.
"This week FCW continues to demonstrate it's fixation with odd tag teams. Teaming people who would never in a hundred years voluntarily team up. It isn't random by any means, it is an attempt to win over the audience. It is a ratings ploy. An attempt to keep the people guessing, and watching. It makes no difference to me, I'll do what I always do, and win. My partner? None other than Alexander "the pretty good" Parise. I find it both humorous and spineless, the way Alexander Parise shot off at the mouth in his latest promo. Parise, you low life, how dare you insinuate that finding your name opposite mine on a card would fill your heart with anything other than dread and despair."
Orton's voice raises and the now familiar look of rage slowly begins to resurface on his face.
"You dare to claim you have ever beaten me? Parise, I wouldn't bring up 'Last Resort' if I were you. The whole world saw me destroy two of my opponents in that match before you took advantage of my hard work. The fact is Parise, there isn't a person in this world who would bet on you against me. No one that isn't living in a padded cell that is. You dare to make accusations about the nature of my relationship with the other members of Legacy? What would you know about fighting smart? Improving one's self through association and tutelage."
"No Parise, you know nothing about what goes on inside Legacy. You can't even begin to cogitate the things we discuss. The things we have already discussed regarding you. Your feeble and transparent attempt to cause friction between Seifer Blacke and myself only served to make us both laugh at you with the utmost derision. Seifer Blacke and I realize the mutually beneficial nature of our relationship is backed by the bottom line. It is measured in success, and I'd say we have both been pretty successful thus far."
"Seifer Blacke is more than ready for you. I have no doubt he will take that title from you. When he does, we will as he stated, address that issue. In the meantime, it would behoove you not to make such imbecilic statements as "you look forward to facing me." Parise you don't look forward to facing me. You never want that. Quit lying to everyone. Quit lying to yourself. I think though, that when I am done with Gimmick, I WILL come looking for you. I will do to you what I did to the last false champion, expose you for the mid card fraud you are."
Orton clears his throat once more, running a hand across his head.
"You don't need to tell anyone we aren't friends, the whole world knows that I would never associate with the likes of you. I will play along. I will do my job at Anarchy, but after I get the win, I don't wanna see you anywhere around. Victory is always my goal, and the losing combination of Triple H, and Virus are two individuals FCW needs a whole lot less of. This match is a disgrace to me. Being placed in the same ring with such common trash as those two jobbers already has me in a foul mood. So guys, I wouldn't wanna be you. In fact, I seriously doubt anyone on this roster would blame either of you if you just stayed home. I mean Triple H, how many times have you tried? At this point you're just depredating any reputation you ever had. And Virus, at the risk of agreeing with Parise, we've all seen more than enough "tortured souls" and "fallen angels." No one is impressed anymore. This is a golden opportunity for you boys. A golden opportunity that is just going to be impossible to capitilize on."
"And on a personal note, Jimmy I hope you'll be watching. I hope you study real close. Because, you are first and foremost on my mind Jimmy. The clock is ticking, and soon there will be no more time for talking. Words will be of no more use."
Orton begins to take the mic off his shirt, but he speaks up one last time. "Boys when I'm busy putting you through Hell, you can blame Alexander Parise for putting me in such a foul mood."
Orton casually walks away, glancing hatefully toward the camera one last time.
