Seein' Starrs (Brent)

[manup]

As the show continues along, the crowd waits to see whatever else could possibly happen. It wouldn't take long, as Knight Owl's "Pay The Piper" plays over the PA. To the stage comes Jayson Jones, met by the cheers of the fans. As he walks down to the ring, the look on his face is one of focus. Tonight, he had an agenda. He receives the mic and speaks on exactly what it is...

Scott O'Dell. You'z a BITCH.

That gets a huge pop from the fans...

I dropped yo' ass on that sack of dimes you call a neck, and ya' token negro friend Alston saw fit to stick his nose in me whoopin' that ass. Enjoy it. Cuz you and me are gonna have words, son-son. REAL soon.

But right now, I wanna talk about one of the OTHER chumps. I wanna talk Brent Starr.

The crowd roars in anticipation of what was to be said.
Brent Starr came out here with those two chumps and talked a whoooooooooooooooooole lotta yin yang. He ran off about how great he is. About how many people he's whooped up on. About how he's greater then sliced bread. Ayo, Brent. Talk's CHEAP. Cuz tonight, I aint doin' no talkin'. You dropped a few names of guys you supposedly challenged and never heard nothin' from. But as I said at OTS, none of the names you dropped was Jayson Jones. Well guess what, pahdna'? I'm droppin' YOUR NAME. I ain't leavin' US Air Center until I BEAT YO' ASS. That's how it's goin' down. So bring ye' bumboclot pon' this' ring, 'ire. Me' wan' WAR, me'son. WAR!!!


Jay-J lowers his mic. He stands with his eyes fixated on the set as he awaits the reply of Starr.

[ohno]

*
It's not a long wait. The last word barely out of Jones' mouth when the music plays. "This is War" by Ill Nino fills the ears of the blessed on watchers as Brent strolls out with a smile that would make a photographer orgasm in gratitude. He's only wearing the hoodie and jeans, no shirt beneath it. He's ready to fight if the chance arrives. He stands atop the ramp and points the mic at Jayson in the ring before speaking in response.
*

Seems someone remembered our words before the trouncing. Jayson remembers that between us, we guaranteed one another that this one match would not suffice the war between the reigning king and the uncrowned sire. Both of us, KINGS of New York. One, because he lives there, the other, because he put more opponents away in that company then anyone else.

*
Brent applauds Jayson
*

Congrats on losing your end of the match though "king". It seems a trend amongst the nay sayers in this world of wrestling we live in. They all line up, they all get knocked back down. Believe me, if this were a ladder comparison, you'd be middle rung and I'd be atop the ladder, clinging to the title above it with NOBODY and I do mean NOBODY within reach to stop me.

Now, I do believe an I told you so is in order. I said my team would win, I said we'd batter and bloody yours and, well, it's true. My team is the victor and yours is the losing side. I mean, bravo, you nailed O'dell with your fancy little tiger bomb, but did you get the pin. No, because his team mates were ON THE BALL and stopped it. Seconds later, your laid on your back and we three stood triumphant because your team mates dropped the ball.

*
He begins walking down the aisle towards the ring as he continues
*

So you want a round two? That's fine, just keep in mind what happens when people come back for more against me. I sent Payne packing from Toronto with near broken ribs and a few loose teeth from me trying to kick them down his throat to shut him up once and for all. Your pal, the evolution of the game, evolutionizes nothing but his look everytime I turn around. I revolutionalized the evolution of wrestling. I am the man atop the throne and can't nobody dethrone me from my moniker, the original, the one, the only, REALITY CHECK of professional wrestling.

And if you think you can keep up, then run on and man the fuck up. We can do this straight up or you can add your petty little features to the match. Give yourself some excuses in waiting for your loss. A ladder, a chair, a table, a sledgehammer? Barbwire 2x4? What is it Jones? Do you bring weapons to the fight or do you fight man to man, like a man?

*
By this time he's reached ringside and climbed onto the apron, on the outside of the ropes facing Jayson Jones in the ring awaiting his reply
*

[manup]

Jay-J laughs off Brent's verbal jabs. But his slight smile turns dead serious in a heartbeat as he responds.

Let me clue you in on somethin' real key, son-son. That bein' the reason why they call me K-O-N-Y. Not because of the lame ass reason you just came up with. Beatin' god knows who in L-X-Dub ta' inflate that Texas sized ego of yours. Fact of the matta' is the only reason why you was even an afta' thought, is because my ass wasn't around. That's the only reason why ANY of you punk asses who came up in LXW got anywhere. The got rid of me, cuz they saw I was the god damn show. But them, just like them chumps in Ohio saw me as a "risk". Because they damn sure knew what I was about. My DAMN self. "Get rid of the threat before he becomes a problem". Story of my damn career. I come, I whoop a suckas ass, management gets nervous and send me packin' cuz I don't kiss corporate ass. The reason they call ME King Of New York, is because I put work in on the streets. That's where I'm from. While you was in some state of the art wrestlin' gym learnin' how to take bumps, I was in The Dragon House in Chinatown, gettin' my ass whooped by Triad strongmen in underground street fights. Payin' for it in blood, sweat and broken bones. Real recognizes real, fam-o. And you're game is lookin' unfamiliar right about now.

Jay-J clears his throat before he continues.

Speakin' of game, Let's get on why Brent Starr is here in XWA. Is it because he was out of work when that other second rate show went under? NAAAAAAAAAAAAAH. Is it because in Toronto he has not even an ounce of competition worth scratchin' his ass about? Maybe. No no no, I know why. It's because XWA is the one place that actually matters. The one place where despite all the heads you've flown in companies that have talent pools that rival backyard wrestling, XWA's got biggest level of talent.

No, that aint it.

OOOOOOOOOOOOH!!! I know why. Because this is the one place that you ain't spouted off at the mouth enough in. Yea. That's it. You wanna run ya' yap about my team not bein' on the ball? Battered and bloodied???[/font]

Jay-J check his forehead.

Don't look like no blood to me. I think what it is...is that you're livin' a lil' dream. One where you actually think in your heart of hearts that you'z tha' truth. Here's some "reality" fa' you, son-son. You ain't beat NOTHIN'. Ya' meat maybe, but you damn sure ain't beat me. Scott O'Dell did. With help from the Token Negro Osiris. Whereas you was standin' around wit' ya thumb up ya' ass checkin' ta' see if ya sideburns was frizzin' up.

A collective "oooooooooooooh" from the crowd.

It seems to me, that you knockin' off my Cuzin' Jon-boy is like the highlight of ya' damn career. Lord knows it comes outta ya burger trap every 6 seconds. Hell, I don't think you've cut a promo yet where you DON'T make some kinda reference to beatin' Payne. Or all the other suckaz you whooped up on in 2007. I don't know the names, cuz quite frankly, I never cared to watch any of those matches. I don't pay attention to second rate fights. That SHO'NUFF ain't what's goin' down tonight. This ain't LX Dub. This ain't Detroit. This ain' t Toronto, Ohio, Timbuktu, South of tha' border, the bodega down the block or half past yo' toy ass. This is YOU, steppin' in the ring wit' ME, and gettin' a fresh coat of "Ja-J just whooped my ass" painted on ya' forehead. You and ya' boys wanna make statements. Ya'll wanna put XWA on notice. I just wanna break my foot off in yo' ass. Thas' wassup.

[ohno]

All that talk, all that self propoganda you got runnin out your mouth and not once single sentence contained an answer. I stopped paying attention the moment you talked down about Detroit, because it was Detroit that took me on when Zoo York went belly up because they man handle their talent.

Talking all big game but never backing it up, thats what New York stands for. Your just like the fuckin Yankees, you can stack the deck with your mass amount of money, but come clutch time, what happens? UH OH, pin stripes drowned in tears!! Maybe 3 or 4 more roided up free agents and you can make the big game again, SON SON.

*
He steps through the ropes now and is almost face to face with his opponent
*

And about your boy Jon Payne, I only speak about him because he's the only one worth speakin on, and his ass is too himey to even come beg for a third chance to prove me wrong.

You on the other hand, your quite hospitable when it comes to challenges and talking the big game. Cause you and I both know that sometimes, the main event, isn't really the most anticipated or watched match on the card. Sometimes when you take guys like you and I, and put them in a match about self respect, or shutting down the ego train, it out shines the title matches. It makes the booking team seem like idiots for placing it lower on the card, and believe me, I've seen more 3rd or 4th matches on the card that people talk about more then the main events.

It's all about stealing shows here, you and me, and when given the right opponent, the show is mine. That's why it took almost all the money in bank to get me to come back to New York. I came, I saw, I conquered and rode out with a belt around my waist that I still have never lost. I'm Mr SlamGOD, emphasis on the god, best of the best. And you.. you can be KING of the rest, SON SON!

[manup]

This time Jay-J laughs out loud...

A bag on the Yankees? Seriously. Is that REALLY tha' best you got, fam-o? Damn. Now THAT'S some cliche shit, pahdna'. I'ma bottom line it like this, I spit game cuz I know there ain't a sucka alive bold enough ta' tell me otherwise. Many THINK they know, but they don't know a GOT'DAYUM thang. Now I don't know what kinda bank Ms. Blackheart offered yo' ass up ta' get here, and I don't give a damn neither. Yall can talk up how much the XWA brass doesn't know talent til' ya asses turn blue. Fact is, YO ASS is here. So that must mean that you ain't shit either. And biggin' up yaself fa' walkin' out SlamGOD champ??? I walked out GRANDSLAM champ, after handin' that punk ass Michaels the worst beatin' of his damn career. A belt I neva' lost. So anyone...ANYONE who eva' held that title from then, has a nice lil' asterix next to they names, cuz they neva' beat me for it. They was afraid I'd knuckle up and whoop Preston's ass and BE the big dog. But I ain't even gonna go there...

Jay-J clears his throat off mic before continuing.

And ta answer ya' question. I don't need a Sledgehammer, Chair, Table, 2x4, Bowie Knife, Scud Missile OR Kitchen Sink to beat yo' ass. All I need is my fists, my feet, and yo' FACE. In my house, we do things MAN UP. And best believe, you steppin' in my house. Mr. SlamGOD versus the REAL Mr. GrandSlam. A pretenda' to the throne versus tha' TRUE king of this ring. And we gonna shot tha' 5'z tonight. No BS. None a' that stipulation shit. Come as you are, SON...and leave wit' ya two front teeth in ya' back pocket.

[ohno]

Done deal!
And when I beat you, and I will, then the world will see you the way I see you and the rest of New York and it's crew since day one.

*
He turns his back on Jayson in the ring and faces the audience as he says it
*

Aside from a few bright spots in the bleak and dark, your all just a bunch of frauds! Posing as first class, trying to live up to your own hype and self given titles.

*
He turns back to Jayson as he steps back through the ropes and drops down to the outside
*

Don't come short a .1 percent or two. I wanna shut you up at your best. You got the rest of the night to think up excuses for why your nose got dropped flat on the canvas, causing your eyes to water as your pinned 1...2...3 by the true KING of New York! And then as blood begins to clog your nostrils and drip, drop for drop, onto the canvas and you realize you bit off more then you can chew, then you might fathom what it is, to be the chihuahua in the pitbulls jaws.

Just another dead body!

*
He drops the mic on the ramp as he walks backwards towards the curtains, jawing at Jayson Jones the whole way. Perfect buildup to their match and just the right amount of camera time, as to not steal away from anyone elses shine
*

~Fin~