PA: FRAN- FRAN- FRANCHIIIISE!
(Hit that focking music!
�?6 Quite Bitter Beings�?rocks the hell out of the place and the entire crowd comes to its feet in unison, filling the place with louuud appraisal of the verbal variety.)
Joey Kewl: It’s time for Ryan Cain’s scheduled in-ring address!
Trunks Kenni: Apparently!
(Ryan rips the curtain open and trots out onto the stage with his bottom half clothed by his wrestling gear - slick pants, boots, and all - and his torso covered by a “The Freaks�?t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. Standing at the top of the ramp, Ryan looks out at the crowd - his screaming fans - and waves his arms above his head in encouragement.)
Ryan: Come on!
(The noise level goes up and Ryan puts on that big grin before he begins making his way down the ramp.)
Joey Kewl: What is it about Ryan Cain that makes these fans love him so much, Trunks?
Trunks Kenni: His effeminate highlights and metro sexual-smile?
Joey Kewl: I was thinking more his determined attitude and courageous outlook�?but if you’re into those things, I guess it works.
Trunks Kenni: Wow, did you just�?
Joey Kewl: Whoa, did I?
Trunks Kenni: �?Dang. Not much else to say.
(Ryan slides up onto the apron on one knee, grabbing the middle rope in his right hand. Standing up, Ryan hops easily over the top rope into the ring and pretty much sprints across it, jumping energetically up onto the second turnbuckle and pointing out at the crowd with another yell. He jumps down and sprints across to the opposite corner to do the same thing. Again, he hops down and stops in the middle of the ring, holding his hand up to call for a microphone from ringside. Someone tosses one over the top rope to him and he catches it as his music cuts.)
“WELCOME BACK! WELCOME BACK! WELCOME BACK! WELCOME BACK!�?/FONT>
(Hands on his hips, Ryan just looks out with that same smile, soaking up that chant for the second week in a row.)
Joey Kewl: San Antonio loves him, Trunks.
(Eventually, the fans calm down and when Ryan’s ready, he lifts the microphone.)
Ryan: I just wanna open by saying how focking good�?it feels�?to stand in a W2K Ring�?in front of W2K people�?dressed to WRESTLE�?FOR THE FIRST TIME IN *YEARS*!
(The fans go nuts all over again before Ryan continues. He starts pacing back and forth in the ring, moving with the rhythm of his words.)
Ryan: Yeah, I’m dressed to wrestle, because, see- I’m sure most of you know, but just to be clear�?I’m dressed to wrestle, because, later tonight, in the Main Event, here on RAGE�?I’m gonna be back in this ring�?in these clothes�?and you’ll all get to watch me stomp the CRAP out of Johnny Legend!
(He stops his speech and his pacing both at the same time to look out at the crowd and allow time for the gratuitous cheer�?before he continues walking around the ring.)
Ryan: I came back to Wrestling 2000 last week, and I came to wrestle. I came to compete. I came to climb the ranks, and I sure as hell didn’t come planning to wait a while to start. See, if you ask the goons over at the Fans�?Wrestling Alliance, they’ll tell you I’m “injured.�?They’ll tell you Richard and William Rodney Mercy owned my life on their last installment of Conflict!, and I just couldn’t compete in the Main Event that night. What they won’t tell you is a fact I know to be true. Conflict!, you know, the weekly show over there in FWA�?it doesn’t air live. I mean�?that’s kinda obvious, considering I was in San Antonio when they showed me on television getting my ass handed to me by those Mercy losers. What they won’t tell you is the fact that the little “riot�?that supposedly went down after that show�?it was all planned. It was staged. They used it as a cover-up�?because, if you care to hear another *fact* about that night�?despite what those two asshats did to me, I pulled myself up off the ground and stood on my own feet. I didn’t have to be carried out on a stretcher. I wasn’t in an ambulance. I was up and I was ready to go. And you all shouldn’t have a doubt about that, because you KNOW if my body- if Ryan Cain’s body is anything short of crippled or dead, I’m ready to focking go!
(The fans yell out their support and agreement with the statement.)
Ryan: And that’s the reason they’re so lucky that sorry excuse for a wrestling program doesn’t air live. Because they had ample time to make up some bogus excuse for the Main Event being “cancelled”�?and then edit it out so no one saw this month’s FWA golden boy get his ass HANDED to him by a bludgeoned Ryan FOCKin Cain. They were hesitant to even let the match go on as planned in the first place�?but they did. And after they saw me in WRESTLING 2000!�?they decided to pull it from its slot on the air, because they knew the embarrassment would overwhelm them. Everyone knows he’s gonna be their next Heavyweight Champion. And they have neither the balls nor the principles to let the wrestling world see him get his face kicked in by a member of another company’s roster. So they made up an excuse. They created a cover-up. But I’m here to tell you the truth. They’ll deny it. But you people can be the judge of who’s more trustworthy and reliable. Let’s take a poll.
(Again, he stops pacing in the middle of the ring and looks down at his left hand, which he turns palm up toward his face.)
Ryan: Hmm�?FWA�?/FONT>
(He lifts than hand up above his head as though it’s one side of a scale�?and the people let him hear the loudest, most unwelcoming boos they can manage. After a moment, he drops the left hand and takes the microphone out of his right hand with it�?and then lifts his right hand up in the air in the same way.)
Ryan: �?or Ryan Cain?
(Predictably, the fans go over the top with their approval he lowers his hand with a nod.)
Ryan: That’s what I thought.
(And the pacing continues.)
Ryan: And CLEARLY�?I’m telling the truth�?considering I’m here in San Antonio, Texas�?dressed�?and ready to focking wrestle! Look at me! Just take a look.
(He spreads his arms to either side of himself, spinning in a quick circle before jumping up and down pretty high as his adrenaline continues to flow.)
Ryan: Do I look injured to you?! I don’t think so, FWA. I don’t focking think so!
(He pounds his chest with his fist a couple times.)
Ryan: There’s not a damn thing wrong with me! I’m here in perfect condition and top form! Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome W2K’s Franchiiiise!!
(POP POP POP!)
Ryan: I’m as motivated and as fit as I’ve ever been, and *that’s* the reason for all the jealousy backstage! *That’s* the reason guys like Jacob Mitchell�?guys like Dante Cross and Scott Addams and Sef Kinsley have decided to speak up about how much of a choke artist I am! It’s the reason my name’s been flying around from camera to camera to focking CAMERA! They can all see it in my eyes. They can all hear it in my tone. They know Ryan FOCKin Cain has really arrived here in Wrestling 2000... and not only does that scare the *balls* straight off of them�?but it pisses them smooth the hell off. It pisses them off, because they *know*any hopes, any dreams they’ve ever had of reaching the top of W2K have all been shot to *nothing*. None of the aspirations these guys have ever had mean *crap* at this point, because they just don’t measure up. There was only one guy around here that could go toe-to-toe with Dangerously before I got here, and he got screwed the hell out of his spot. So someone had to step up, and it sure as FOCK wasn’t going to be any of those guys. Enter Ryan Cain. Enter the guy that *defines* what W2K is supposed to be about. Enter the one man left who hasn’t been cheated by Dangerously. I walked through that curtain, and everything else took a focking backseat, and the whole roster is pissed on beyond belief. They act like all their anger is directed at me�?but, really, at the core, it’s directed inwardly, right at themselves. They’re so mad at themselves that they’ll never get on my level that they can’t stand it!
(Abruptly, Ryan flings his hair back out of his face and looks out at all his fans for a moment. They’re behind him all the way�?and he starts walking around, talking with his hands again.)
Ryan: So whether they like it or not, later tonight�?in the Main Event, I start my trek toward something I earned a long damn time ago. I start with Johnny Legend. I start by putting that oblivious waste of oxygen in his place way down at the bottom of the ladder. I start by *annihilating* his punkass in my RETURN TO THE WRESTLING 2000 RING! And then I move on. I move on to next week. And I move on to the next�?and the next. I move on to Sef Kinsley if I have to. Or even Pyxii or Serenity if that’s the match that’s signed. And then I move on, alongside Cross, to My Bloody Valentine and The Freaks versus The Texan Connection, where I’ll become a W2K Tag Team Champion AGAIN. Step by step. Week by week. Match by match. I move on, I move on, and I focking move on�?until I get Nic E. Dangerously all by himself�?and I FINALLY become W2K�?Champion!
(The passion in Ryan’s voice combined with the words themselves is getting the crowd REALLY going, even more than when he ripped the curtain open.)
Ryan: God knows�?it’s about time.
(I said HIT. THAT. FOCKING. MUSIC!
�?6 Quite Bitter Beings�?blasts through the sound system once again, just barely heard over Ryan’s fans as he drops the microphone to the canvas standing in the middle of the ring. He’s looking up toward the rafters, breathing heavily after that energetic speech. He’s soaking this shit up like a sponge.
He’s finally back.
He’s finally back for real.
He breathes deeply now, trying to catch his breath and suddenly sprints to a corner, just like in the beginning and jumps up onto the middle turnbuckle, pointing out at the crowd and screaming at the top of his lungs. The veins in his neck are popping out when he sprints across to the opposite turnbuckle and does the same thing again.
This time, when he jumps down from the middle rope, he quickly bounces back up into the air and over the top rope, all the way down to the floor. He goes to one side of the ramp and aggressively shakes hands with the fans over there. He goes to the other side and does the same, and then back to the first side again, continuing this pattern all the way up the ramp until he reaches the top of it.
In the middle of the stage, he rips his shirt off and pounds his chest a few times as hard as he can.)
Ryan: LET’S GO! LET’S! F***ING! GO!
(And finally�?he stomps through the curtain into the backstage area�?leaving the fans still screaming and struggling to catch their breath.)
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