Post by brandonnytrus on Jul 30, 2012 13:12:54 GMT -5
The Orleans Arena awaits some kind of life from the superstars in the locker room. Nytrus awaits the IT guy to play his music, this is it...his introduction...no one knows who he is...no one cares who he is...yet...
The arena becomes strangely quiet. Maybe not as many people in the audience...nevertheless, finally the PA becomes extremely loud with the song "Stricken" by Disturbed. Smoke and fireworks erupt from the stage. The crowd becomes excited. A new face? Oh joy!
A man that stands about 6'8 walks through the fog left over from the fireworks. The crowd lets out a small pop for the man. He is in a custom Armani suit and is looking quite spiffy.
Nytrus begins to walk down the ramp, he's very serious. Not showing much emotion as he gets to the end of the ramp. He looks out at the audience before going over to the steel steps. He slithers into the ring through the second rope. He climbs the nearest turnbuckle and looks out at the crowd. No one knows how to react...the only thing they're saying is, "Who the hell is that..."
Nytrus hops down from the second rope and grabs a microphone from a man at ringside, waiting for him.
There's a brief pause between when Nytrus' music stops and where he finally raises his microphone to speak.
"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls..." He says with a sarcastic undertone to his deep, confident voice. "What you're looking at is the future. And as corney as that sounds, it's true." The crowd still unsure as to what to do, stays quiet for the time being. "What you're looking at...is 'The Hardcore Icon' Brandon Nytrus. You see, before coming here...I was practically a no one...but today...I stand before you as the future MPW World Heavyweight Champion." the crowd begins to cheer a little bit, liking his confidence... "You see...you gamblers and idiots here in Las Vegas...know nothing about what it's like to win fairly." the crowd now begins to boo a bit. "Granted, being the Hardcore Icon I am...I have had my fair share of cheating victories...but, I actually have won before on my own. I don't need to bet to win. I don't need to put money on the line. I put myself on the line. Just to look out into the crowd and see you fat asses stuff your faces with popcorn and beer. I have realized over the years that I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for me. Don't expect me to come out here and be the hero." Nytrus stops to chuckle a bit. "I'm not going to be that guy. I'm here to win titles, make money, and live my life how I want to."
The crowd seems furious, "Oh, you're all mad at me now? You're mad at me because I am here to make myself a legend? In five...no, give me until next year. You'll see me on the front page. You'll see me as the superstar everyone wants to see. I'll be the person little Johnny back home looks up to. Little Johnny will be wearing my t-shirts and saying my catch phrases. And you'll all be the one saying, 'Wow, we underestimated him, huh?’”
The crowd is irate and Nytrus loves it. He smiles and laughs. “I hope you all don’t mind…but I have to laugh at all of you. I came out here and you began to cheer me, now you go right to booing me.” Nytrus then laughs even harder with that thought. “That’s how hypocritical you all are? You turn your back that quickly? You should be ashamed.”
Nytrus notices a man booing him in the front row, calling him some names. Nytrus has an idea randomly pop into his head. He smirks and rolls out of the ring and approaches the man.
“Excuse me,” Nytrus says, “What’s your name?”
Nytrus raises the microphone to the fan’s face. “Earl.”
Nytrus smiles, “Earl? Earl, what?”
The man laughs and becomes extremely giddy at the fact that he’s practically being interviewed by a wrestler, “Earl Greenwood!”
“Tell me, Earl Greenwood. What have you accomplished in your life?” Nytrus hisses.
“I have two beautiful children, one’s with me today!” he raises his son who’s wearing a MPW promo shirt and a Drake Hunter hat, the kid is about maybe 6 years old.
“Cute, very cute…Earl, tell me, what do you do for a living?” Nytrus says sarcastically.
Earl puts his kid down and grabs the microphone, “I am a bartender right here in Vagas baby, woo!” he screams as the crowd applauds at the hometown man.
Nytrus smiles and claps. “Very good, Earl. Now, do you know what I do for a living?” Nytrus says with a sarcastic smile.
Earl nods with a huge smile on his face.
“I put maggots like you in the hospital. I swing chairs at hypocrites like you to make them bleed.” Nytrus growls, “You want that to happen to you, Earl? Huh? Do you want to go to the hospital? Do you want your son to see you bleed?”
Earl becomes extremely scared and backs away and shakes his head no.
“You don’t want that to happen?” Nytrus says moving closer with a sick, horrific look on his face, “No? Then stop booing me and calling me names or I will knock you out faster than you can shove a hot dog down your fat, disgusting throat.” Nytrus screams.
He drops the microphone and leaves ringside. Once he gets to the ramp, his music begins to play. The crowd boos him; a drink is even thrown at him once he reaches the stage. The drink misses him, but he picks it up and throws it back.
He exits through the curtain leaving everything he just did and said to buzz in the arena.
Once Nytrus walks backstage to go to his locker room, he smiles and mumbles to himself, “Now that’s what I call a first impression.”
The arena becomes strangely quiet. Maybe not as many people in the audience...nevertheless, finally the PA becomes extremely loud with the song "Stricken" by Disturbed. Smoke and fireworks erupt from the stage. The crowd becomes excited. A new face? Oh joy!
A man that stands about 6'8 walks through the fog left over from the fireworks. The crowd lets out a small pop for the man. He is in a custom Armani suit and is looking quite spiffy.
Nytrus begins to walk down the ramp, he's very serious. Not showing much emotion as he gets to the end of the ramp. He looks out at the audience before going over to the steel steps. He slithers into the ring through the second rope. He climbs the nearest turnbuckle and looks out at the crowd. No one knows how to react...the only thing they're saying is, "Who the hell is that..."
Nytrus hops down from the second rope and grabs a microphone from a man at ringside, waiting for him.
There's a brief pause between when Nytrus' music stops and where he finally raises his microphone to speak.
"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls..." He says with a sarcastic undertone to his deep, confident voice. "What you're looking at is the future. And as corney as that sounds, it's true." The crowd still unsure as to what to do, stays quiet for the time being. "What you're looking at...is 'The Hardcore Icon' Brandon Nytrus. You see, before coming here...I was practically a no one...but today...I stand before you as the future MPW World Heavyweight Champion." the crowd begins to cheer a little bit, liking his confidence... "You see...you gamblers and idiots here in Las Vegas...know nothing about what it's like to win fairly." the crowd now begins to boo a bit. "Granted, being the Hardcore Icon I am...I have had my fair share of cheating victories...but, I actually have won before on my own. I don't need to bet to win. I don't need to put money on the line. I put myself on the line. Just to look out into the crowd and see you fat asses stuff your faces with popcorn and beer. I have realized over the years that I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for me. Don't expect me to come out here and be the hero." Nytrus stops to chuckle a bit. "I'm not going to be that guy. I'm here to win titles, make money, and live my life how I want to."
The crowd seems furious, "Oh, you're all mad at me now? You're mad at me because I am here to make myself a legend? In five...no, give me until next year. You'll see me on the front page. You'll see me as the superstar everyone wants to see. I'll be the person little Johnny back home looks up to. Little Johnny will be wearing my t-shirts and saying my catch phrases. And you'll all be the one saying, 'Wow, we underestimated him, huh?’”
The crowd is irate and Nytrus loves it. He smiles and laughs. “I hope you all don’t mind…but I have to laugh at all of you. I came out here and you began to cheer me, now you go right to booing me.” Nytrus then laughs even harder with that thought. “That’s how hypocritical you all are? You turn your back that quickly? You should be ashamed.”
Nytrus notices a man booing him in the front row, calling him some names. Nytrus has an idea randomly pop into his head. He smirks and rolls out of the ring and approaches the man.
“Excuse me,” Nytrus says, “What’s your name?”
Nytrus raises the microphone to the fan’s face. “Earl.”
Nytrus smiles, “Earl? Earl, what?”
The man laughs and becomes extremely giddy at the fact that he’s practically being interviewed by a wrestler, “Earl Greenwood!”
“Tell me, Earl Greenwood. What have you accomplished in your life?” Nytrus hisses.
“I have two beautiful children, one’s with me today!” he raises his son who’s wearing a MPW promo shirt and a Drake Hunter hat, the kid is about maybe 6 years old.
“Cute, very cute…Earl, tell me, what do you do for a living?” Nytrus says sarcastically.
Earl puts his kid down and grabs the microphone, “I am a bartender right here in Vagas baby, woo!” he screams as the crowd applauds at the hometown man.
Nytrus smiles and claps. “Very good, Earl. Now, do you know what I do for a living?” Nytrus says with a sarcastic smile.
Earl nods with a huge smile on his face.
“I put maggots like you in the hospital. I swing chairs at hypocrites like you to make them bleed.” Nytrus growls, “You want that to happen to you, Earl? Huh? Do you want to go to the hospital? Do you want your son to see you bleed?”
Earl becomes extremely scared and backs away and shakes his head no.
“You don’t want that to happen?” Nytrus says moving closer with a sick, horrific look on his face, “No? Then stop booing me and calling me names or I will knock you out faster than you can shove a hot dog down your fat, disgusting throat.” Nytrus screams.
He drops the microphone and leaves ringside. Once he gets to the ramp, his music begins to play. The crowd boos him; a drink is even thrown at him once he reaches the stage. The drink misses him, but he picks it up and throws it back.
He exits through the curtain leaving everything he just did and said to buzz in the arena.
Once Nytrus walks backstage to go to his locker room, he smiles and mumbles to himself, “Now that’s what I call a first impression.”
