The camera faded on as Michael Cole stood still awaiting a cue. He was wearing a nice suit, nothing too crazy, but it shouted middle class nice. A dark tie hung there symbolizing the fact that he could in fact tie a tie. He looked comfortable as there were two men standing to his side. One behind the other. Rosario stood in the front, Comfortable but stern, he had a mission on his mind and that was obvious by his body language. Behind him was the veteran’s protégé, Dean Johnson. Dean was shirtless and looked like he just came back from a warm-up, he was ready for his Gold Rush match tonight. Michael Cole held a microphone between him and Rosario as Vinny the cameraman (Rumor has it, he also worked as the broadcast technician) gave the men their cue that they were on the air.
“Hello Rosario, before we start I would like to formally welcome you back here to the WWF:G! And we’re happy to finally be able to hear from you and Dean. It’s been a few weeks since you two have arrived. I’ll get straight to the point, what bri—”
Rosario rushed forward, cutting off the skinny reporter. Rosario wasn’t shredded himself but he exuded the kind of “I’m going to cut you off and you’re going to deal with it energy”. And there was experience to it, like he spent many nights cutting off strangers in the bar to tell them exaggerated tales of his epic battles in pro wrestling.
“No, I’m going to get straight to the point, Cole. Money, Deniro, Dollar Bills! We want the Ka-ching..No.. We’re going to get that Ka-ching. Look Cole, people know this, I like to fly high. Back in the day I was here, hell we were all here, just to be on tv. To tell fun stories, To show off our demons, our powers, and set up scenarios to pull emotion. To live fantasies. Hell, we would kill our friends, hit them with cars, stage shootings if it would give us a pop…”
Rosario looked into the camera, with deep and sincere eyes. There was definitely fire.
“Zoom in on me Vinny, it’s about me right now…And Let me tell you guys we were making pops. Life was fun, care free, we were flying high. We had lovers, we had popularity, hell we had drugs. And those things controlled our lives. Drugs, the Drink, the little friend. Made up for the fact that the money was never really there, and once those things became constant, it made it easier to not show up. It made it easier to not work. Like flies each competitor left. One by one. Matches were getting canceled, teams were disbanding, people were going their own ways, people had to find themselves. A few stayed, those people here currently, that passion is there but where our themselves, where is the wrasslin.”
He ended the word wrasslin with a cute little southern inflection. Maybe referencing his southern heritage, maybe just being a goof. He then waved at Vinny, a motion that meant back up. Vinny didn’t back up though and because he was an A1 talent, a real solid individual, he knew this meant to zoom back out and show all three men. See, Vinny was a smart guy.
“And in that moment, year, decade…I found it. I found passion and wrestling on the smallest of stages. I went up to the northeast, the northwest, Canada, Kansas, and visited a lot of small promotions. Working for sport, working to live, working because when they were young they knew that this was the only way. And one day I found myself up in Maine at a Maine’s Extreme Martial Entertainment Show, I think it was Gnarly Intense Fighting 4 at a waterpark. In the ring was the man now standing to my side, Dean Johnson. Young, attractive, ripped beyond all hell, This man didn’t need to pretend to be a god, he didn’t need to use supernatural powers, he didn’t need to magically turn off the lights. Hell he didn’t even jump off a turnbuckle. He stayed on his two feet and controlled his opponent. Used his force to keep the other guy from moving. Really simple, clean, effective. There was a story there, about brute force and will. Headlocks, slams, A real fight that caused his opponents to consistently tap out like they were a bunch of leaky faucets”
Dean motioned forward, rubbing his hands together, flicking his head to the side. Blonde hair softly spiked at the tip. He didn’t have much to say, but it was obvious he didn’t need to say much. His job was to work out and to learn from a guy who had seen it all.
“Listen, a lot of people are afraid to admit they don’t know things. They’ll pretend that they do, or chastise others that will wear their knowledge on their sleeves. Bully others rather than confront truths. So here’s some things we don’t know. We don’t know how long it’s gonna take for someone to stop us. We don’t know how big of a bag we are gonna make here. And we don’t know how this roster is going to handle Real Wrestling. And that is okay! Enjoy the ride folks in the back. The truth is we are here to stay, and we are here to support our families. If that means winning every single match, If that means showing up to work every week till the sad sack of shits you call viewers get sick of us then we will. And if that means knocking Drako out of the World Title picture and getting that big check then you can bet your asses we will be there.”
At this point the two men were closer to the camera, Michael Cole still handling the microphone with care. Spit was flying and emotions were out, this was an interview dammit.
“No invisible camera, come here vinny, zoom in again, see my eyes…Better Than You! You're nothing more than another stone in our path. A mere obstacle. Dean isn’t gonna let you walk away from this one, he’s gonna hold you down and make you tap boy. Money is the motive and we are flying high tonight!”
Rosario patted the interviewer on his back as he threw a peace sign and both men walked off camera.
“Hello Rosario, before we start I would like to formally welcome you back here to the WWF:G! And we’re happy to finally be able to hear from you and Dean. It’s been a few weeks since you two have arrived. I’ll get straight to the point, what bri—”
Rosario rushed forward, cutting off the skinny reporter. Rosario wasn’t shredded himself but he exuded the kind of “I’m going to cut you off and you’re going to deal with it energy”. And there was experience to it, like he spent many nights cutting off strangers in the bar to tell them exaggerated tales of his epic battles in pro wrestling.
“No, I’m going to get straight to the point, Cole. Money, Deniro, Dollar Bills! We want the Ka-ching..No.. We’re going to get that Ka-ching. Look Cole, people know this, I like to fly high. Back in the day I was here, hell we were all here, just to be on tv. To tell fun stories, To show off our demons, our powers, and set up scenarios to pull emotion. To live fantasies. Hell, we would kill our friends, hit them with cars, stage shootings if it would give us a pop…”
Rosario looked into the camera, with deep and sincere eyes. There was definitely fire.
“Zoom in on me Vinny, it’s about me right now…And Let me tell you guys we were making pops. Life was fun, care free, we were flying high. We had lovers, we had popularity, hell we had drugs. And those things controlled our lives. Drugs, the Drink, the little friend. Made up for the fact that the money was never really there, and once those things became constant, it made it easier to not show up. It made it easier to not work. Like flies each competitor left. One by one. Matches were getting canceled, teams were disbanding, people were going their own ways, people had to find themselves. A few stayed, those people here currently, that passion is there but where our themselves, where is the wrasslin.”
He ended the word wrasslin with a cute little southern inflection. Maybe referencing his southern heritage, maybe just being a goof. He then waved at Vinny, a motion that meant back up. Vinny didn’t back up though and because he was an A1 talent, a real solid individual, he knew this meant to zoom back out and show all three men. See, Vinny was a smart guy.
“And in that moment, year, decade…I found it. I found passion and wrestling on the smallest of stages. I went up to the northeast, the northwest, Canada, Kansas, and visited a lot of small promotions. Working for sport, working to live, working because when they were young they knew that this was the only way. And one day I found myself up in Maine at a Maine’s Extreme Martial Entertainment Show, I think it was Gnarly Intense Fighting 4 at a waterpark. In the ring was the man now standing to my side, Dean Johnson. Young, attractive, ripped beyond all hell, This man didn’t need to pretend to be a god, he didn’t need to use supernatural powers, he didn’t need to magically turn off the lights. Hell he didn’t even jump off a turnbuckle. He stayed on his two feet and controlled his opponent. Used his force to keep the other guy from moving. Really simple, clean, effective. There was a story there, about brute force and will. Headlocks, slams, A real fight that caused his opponents to consistently tap out like they were a bunch of leaky faucets”
Dean motioned forward, rubbing his hands together, flicking his head to the side. Blonde hair softly spiked at the tip. He didn’t have much to say, but it was obvious he didn’t need to say much. His job was to work out and to learn from a guy who had seen it all.
“Listen, a lot of people are afraid to admit they don’t know things. They’ll pretend that they do, or chastise others that will wear their knowledge on their sleeves. Bully others rather than confront truths. So here’s some things we don’t know. We don’t know how long it’s gonna take for someone to stop us. We don’t know how big of a bag we are gonna make here. And we don’t know how this roster is going to handle Real Wrestling. And that is okay! Enjoy the ride folks in the back. The truth is we are here to stay, and we are here to support our families. If that means winning every single match, If that means showing up to work every week till the sad sack of shits you call viewers get sick of us then we will. And if that means knocking Drako out of the World Title picture and getting that big check then you can bet your asses we will be there.”
At this point the two men were closer to the camera, Michael Cole still handling the microphone with care. Spit was flying and emotions were out, this was an interview dammit.
“No invisible camera, come here vinny, zoom in again, see my eyes…Better Than You! You're nothing more than another stone in our path. A mere obstacle. Dean isn’t gonna let you walk away from this one, he’s gonna hold you down and make you tap boy. Money is the motive and we are flying high tonight!”
Rosario patted the interviewer on his back as he threw a peace sign and both men walked off camera.