Post by Graham Baker on Dec 28, 2019 16:04:53 GMT -5
We enter on Graham Baker, sitting in a steel folding chair in a barren room. He sighs.
"Same shit, different day, so it seems."
Baker adjusts the championship on his shoulder and begins speaking, avoiding eye-contact with the camera as he does so.
"When the name 'Graham Baker' comes to mind, what do you think of? The championships? The man who's on television three nights a week, four weeks a month, on pay-per-view twice a month minimum? The man who had the entirety of the 2300-fucking-Arena cheering for him against the supposed face of the Action Wrestling Cruiserweight division? The man who ran the gauntlet against the best cruiserweights that the entire world of professional wrestling had to offer and still, still almost came out on top before a well-placed kick to the 'nads stopped his momentum? Or do you choose to look on the negatives, however sparse they may be-the fact that I lost to QDT, the fact that it took me three months to pick up my first win in professional wrestling, the fact that I'm, 'supposedly' spreading myself too thin? Do you revere me for my accolades, for all that I've done in just two fucking years, or do you wait for my fall, prey upon me like a fucking vulture, wait to eat the scraps I leave behind?"
Baker waits for a moment before he continues.
"Regardless of how you feel about me, you can't deny my ability to make an impression, to leave an indent upon the virgin soils of every land I set my feet upon. On the first-ever episode of CruiserClash, the brand I'm determined to make my namesake, to make my home, I compete in the main event in a number one contender's match against a worthwhile competitor, and, well...a fuckin' maniac. JC Keeton, Flop, I'd be foolish to disregard you as threats, to say that I'm going to walk into this main event and walk out with the shot I deserve against QDT with ease, but you both'd best know you'd be just as foolish to disregard me. Without even digging deep into accolades, there is a staggering difference between a man like me...and the two of you.
Flop, you play your mental games, you play your unpredictable offense against any poor bastard who decides to spit upon you and look down upon you, but I don't play like that. I've dealt with unpredictability, i've dealt with advantages and odds, seeing as you're the veteran competitor between the three of us, but you don't have a snowball's chance in hell against me. If you want to focus more on the mind games and the tricking-up than the in-ring ability, be my fuckin' guest, but don't be shocked when I drive my knee through your skull on my path to redeem myself and rip that belt out of QDT's cold, dead fuckin' hands.
And you, JC...legacy talent, a name in the game, a truly talented competitor, you ran that gauntlet right alongside me, but the difference between the two of us is that when the fire came calling, I withstood the heat. What bothers me about you, JC, is that you use your father as a measuring stick for your own legacy. You don't give half a fuck about this company, you only care about using it to build up yourself, to fit in the shadow of a man that you can't compare to. I respect you, man, but I can't respect that lack of spine, and I'll show you how little I respect it when I compress your skull down into the nothingness that is your nonexistent spine."
Baker's glance finally meets the camera, and he speaks once again.
"I knew this shot would come, I bated my breath and waited, didn't beg. Now that it's here, I don't give a fuck who you put in the ring with me. I'm the king of the fucking cruiserweights, no matter what QDT says, no matter what anyone says, and I'll tear through anyone to do that. CruiserClash opens the new year, and with it, the new Cruiserweight Era, the era...of 'The Aviator', Graham Fucking Baker. Come get some!"