[Giani Di Luca]

 {{Rise}}

{21st Century Schizoid Man!}

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We fade to the inside of Michie Stadium of West Point, New York… the site of Sin City Wrestling’s last Super Card, High Stakes IV.  This was arguably one of SCW’s biggest shows, with some of the biggest matches, filled to capacity with high spots all around.  People said that this show made a few names into household names.  As many pieces of history that went down, there was one moment that everyone is still talking about, even on this very day…

However, tonight, the venue is quite silent.  Shadows are cast over the field where many fans packed in just three weeks ago, letting the heat of the spotlights keep them warm on the cold night.  Tonight, there isn’t a single soul, and that’s counting the warm body we see walking through the shadows of the field.  Once he reaches the center of the field, one set of lights flash on, illuminating the former Heavyweight and Tag Team Champion of SCW.  Tonight, he stands in a 2014 Year of the Stallion t-shirt, depicting a black horse, done in the Chinese Zodiac fashion.  He is wearing a pair of dark skinny jeans, and a white belt, as well as flashy white sneakers.  His iced out cross hangs from his neck as he pushes his South Pole sunglasses off of his face, and into his neatly done faux hawk.  His eyes are narrowed as he looks straight ahead at the camera.

Giani:  Fuck the bullshit…

Giani narrows his eyes further as his nostrils flare up.  His jaw clinches tightly as his warm breath sends steam coming from his mouth, forming a light cloud that blows away in the blustery wind.  He lifts his head up, but stares down his broad nose at the camera, disgust plastered all across his face.

Giani:  â€¦ it’s time for some straight talk.  We got some assholes runnin’ their mouths on Twitter about some gay fantasy they got involvin’ me and Ringo. I tried to play nice and politically correct, but let me tell ya one thin’… I don’t play for that team, bro’s.  I like the pussy.  The pink cookie, the hoo-hoo… vagina if yaknowhatimsayin’…?

Giani winks playfully as if he were taunting his targets from afar, though this is not how he prefers to address his problems, but this will have to do for now.  He shrugs his shoulders up for a second and then waves it off.

Giani:  Nah… of course ya don’t.  Look, I ain’t callin’ ya faggots. Far be it from me to say what ya are.  Oh, oh… sorry, ya didn’t like that phrasin’?  Does fudge packer work better for ya?  No?  Butt pirate?  Ass master?  Fairy?  Pansy?  Homo?  Bum boy?  Damn, you must be pretty sensitive, but what can ya expect from the fairer spectrum of humanity?  No wonder The Players Club came with Delia Darlin’s personal stamp of approval.  She’s the Queen of the Queers, so I guess it all adds up now.

Giani crosses his arms over his chest as he sneers at the camera.  He lets out his obnoxious signature laugh as he stares across the field and directly into the camera as it zooms in on his face.

Giani:  Look, I ain’t callin’ ya fellas Tinkerbell’s.  All I’m sayin’ is that it must be natural to start diggin’ the D when ya can’t get the V.  Do the three of ya even got one popped cherry to ya names?  Look, I’m bein’ fair.  One between the three of ya would suffice.  No?  Alright then.  I don’t care if ya fuck women, dudes, stuffed animals, farm animals… That ain’t none uh my business.  Get ya Bad Bromance on, kids.  But, uh… one thing… Leave me and my crew out ya fantasies. Look, I get it… we’re attractive guys. I mean, we knee deep in cooch at all times. I know I can’t turn the corner without havin’ a piece of pink berry pie up in my face.  Just stop inserting us into ya brunchin’, cock munchin’ fantasies.  If ya stop projectin’ ya own insecurities onto us on a public forum, then I might consider not kickin’ ya asses in the near future.  Do we got a deal, bitch boys?

Giani tilts his head to the side as if he were waiting for an answer from The Players Club.  After a minute, when an answer doesn’t come, he shakes his head before looking down at his feet.

Giani:  Look, just three weeks ago, these ass hats stepped foot into SCW, and in true bitch fashion, they triple teamed some dude from behind. At least they was kind enough to use lube, if ya count the leftovers from their ménage a trios that took place just moments before the attack, of course.  See, that’s one benefit of bein’ part of Power Play.  We ain’t busy watchin’ each other’s front.  We got each other’s backs.  That’s how a team should work.

Giani reaches down to the ground, picking up a bottle of Smart Water, as is obligatory any time he has the cameras on him.  He pops open the sports cap and sprays some into his mouth before closing the cap and holding it label out.

Giani:  Speakin’ of High Stakes 4, there’s a question eatin’ people alive like a zombie horde.  Why did I turn on Equinox?  I mean, that was THE question of the night, right?  Nobody saw that comin’.  That poof, Christian Underwood, can say he saw it comin’ from a mile away, but ya know gays and their need to get the last word in, right?  They all gotta be Miss Cleo’s er somethin’.  Only three people saw that comin’, and it was me, J2H, and Mister JN Ringo.  I can tell ya first hand, from the look on Equinox’s face when I caught him in mid air, that look of confusion that quickly turned into betrayal, seconds before I knocked him unconscious… he damn sure wasn’t expectin’ it.

Giani chuckles to himself as he reenacts catching Equinox before slamming him down to the mat.  He walks with his patented swagger around what we can only assume he is imagining is the ring.  He then drops down to the ground and does three push ups, one for each count.

Giani:  My lawyers will be in touch with upper management, because I will be named when people talk about Triple Crown Champions of Sin City Wrestlin’.  But, that’s beside the point, right?  We’re tawkin’ about Equinox.  The freak who has to hide behind a mask.  The idiot who has to pretend he got mental problems so that he can stand out from the crowd by inventin’ new catch phrases every week.  Are your fans Monsters?  Jokers?  Ghosts? Goblins?  The fuck, kid?  Stick with one…

Giani shakes his head as he rolls his eyes.  He takes a few steps closer to the camera, running his hand over his face as he wipes the amusement right off.  With a serious expression now etched across his face, he puffs his chest out and glances down at his watch Rolex before he stares right into the camera.

Giani:  Ya know, it’s funny when ya buy a lightweight a drink, they open up about all kinds of useful information.  Pass the tweaker a pipe, and he can handle that shit, but one shot of Jack Daniels put some hair on his bawls, and I was his best fuckin’ friend in the world.  I heard lots of secrets that cost him his cherished Roulette Championship right here, exactly five hundred and four hours ago, to the minute.  We’re gonna see a repeat in just a few days at Climax Control 100 when I knock his ass out with the Jersey Turnpike, and pin him for the one, two, three.  I’ll end his dreams of ever gettin’ that title back around his waist, I promise ya that.  But, it ain’t his fault I did what I did.  He was just the  catalyst for our plan.  Nah, it wasn’t his fault…

Giani nods his head as if there is a slight bit of regret attacking his conscience.  He looks away from the camera, as he bites at his bottom lip, trying to stop the words from coming out.  However, in true Giani fashion, he fails miserably.  But, by the time it happens, he doesn’t care.  He wants to rub it in as he stares deep into the camera, his dark brown eyes almost seeming glassy and vacant.

Giani: … it was your fawlt.  Every one uh ya, the fans.  YOU did it.  I’m Giani Di Freakin’ Luca!  I’m the Italian Stallion!  The King of Kings!  The Reflection of Perfection!  I feel like I gotta repeat myself here, but I got a point, I promise.  I never said you was gonna like it, but there’s a point nevertheless.  You gave me back the confidence I needed to win a Number One Contendership to the SCW Heavyweight Championship.  You forgave me for becomin’ the asshole I was… the asshole I am…  You let me redeem myself.  I was so thankful for the opportunity to become a better person.  I repaid ya by winnin’ an “I Quit” match against the champion, Goth.  I carried that belt for somethin’ like three months… for you!  We had a good time, didn’t we?  I was YOUR champion.  Then, I came up a little short against Simon Jones… I had a hard time with that loss.  I felt like I let y’all down.  I beat myself up for months over that.  I couldn’t show my face cause I let down the people who helped me improve.  It took a lot to get past that shit, dawg…

Giani narrows his eyes as if he feels the pain rushing back once again.  Bitterness comes over his face as he sneers spitefully at the camera.  He shakes his head as he laughs in pure frustration.

Giani:  Ya know what helped me get over that?  When I looked around, and noticed no one gave a shit I was gone.  My mentor was the only one who checked up on me.  Now, you fuckers ran him off with ya Flavor of the Month bullshit attitude.  He can blame some ugly drag queens all he wants, but it was all of his hard work gettin’ shit on by you douchebags that sent him packin’.  He’ll deny it, but there’s a reason he was pulled from all Climax Control 100 promotional materials.  It wasn’t cause he’s buildin’ a nursery for his new bundle of joy.  It’s cause as soon as some fresh set of pecks flexes in front of ya, ya forgot about everythin’ he did for this piece of shit promotion.  He tried to play the nice guy, but guess what?  He nearly blew his brains out in the locker room, week in and week out while watchin’ ya cheer for a bunch of cocky pricks like Drake Green, Matthew “Crash” Carson, Jamie Dean, Aaron Matthews, Ben Jordan… the list goes on and on, and on…  You shit on his accomplishments, just like ya shit on mine.  Hell, by shittin’ on mine, you shit on his yet again!

Giani spits venoms at the camera as he grows more and more angry.  He balls up his fists, ready to tackle the cameraman, but with one shake of the fists, he closes his eyes and collects himself somewhat as he growls under his breath.

Giani:  I had a meetin’ with James, and he told me that this Ringo cat was legit.  I didn’t trust that, but the beauty of this arrangement is that I didn’t have to.  I had to trust that Equinox would be a good little sheep while I tested out the waters of Power Play.  I almost had a change of heart though. I nearly decided to come back and be ya next flavor of the month… until the Year End Awards came around.  I got two nominations; Man of the Year, and Match of the Year with Goth.  I knew you would vote for Drake. It’s cool, he comes out every week and kisses ya ass.  He got his neck snapped like a twig courtesy of Sean Jackson, and he still came back to fight for ya.  I got it… but the match though…….

Giani lets that thought linger for a moment as he can see the massacre that took place.  The property damage that came out of his and Goth’s check left them with next to nothing… nothing but a championship belt that Giani left with.  The epic match seems to fly through his head within ten seconds before he snaps back to reality.

Giani:  But ya disgustin’ perverts voted for some chicks bleedin’ all over the ring, like they don’t do that once a month anyway…  Forget tearin’ up a venue, and leavin’ twice as much blood smeared across the walls backstage, the bruised bones, busted ribs, busted noses, and Goth’s make up replacement costs… Let’s vote for somethin’ that looks like a Suicide Girls promotional video, ya fuckin’ freaks!  That right there...

Giani points right at the screen with both index fingers as his voice raises drastically.

Giani:  THAT was the final straw.  I knew from that moment on that I was gonna fuck Equinox over.  I was gonna leave him knocked out in the ring as a way to show solidarity with my brothers… BROTHERS… of Power Play.  So, while ya busy pointin’ the finger at me, look at the three pointin’ right back atcha.  Instead of playin’ politics, you’re gonna have to play… Power!

Giani nods his head with a bit of an evil grin on his face as he chuckles. He waves off the camera as he shakes his head, taking a moment to enjoy his smart ass comment.  He closes his eyes as the moment fades.  When he finally comes back to, he gets serious once more.

Giani:  Look, I spent enough time tawkin’ about you.  That’s about five minutes more of my attention than you assholes deserve.  Not that Equinox deserves any more of it than I’ve already given him, but he’s my opponent.  I wonder what he thinks of the venue I chose.  See, I can play mind games too. You do remember who mentored me, right?  If not, rewind a few minutes, and you should be able to put two and two together, bro.  The master of mind games taught me a lot of tricks.  But, unlike you, Equinox, everythin’ I do has a purpose. I don’t do stuff just to draw attention to myself.  I don’t run around actin’ a fuckin’ fool, with no rhyme or reason to anythin’ I do.  I want you to watch this from beginnin’ to end, kid.  I want ya to take a look around this stadium, and imagine all of the fans screamin’ our names.  I want you to remember leapin’ off of that turnbuckle, right over there… I know ya see it ya fuckin’ looney toon…

Giani points behind himself as he stares at the imaginary turnbuckle he speaks of.  He pauses so to give Equinox a second to envision it, and replay the events of High Stakes 4 in his mind.  Once he thinks Equinox has done so, he turns back to the camera, but he takes a few steps back.

Giani:  I want ya to feel the cool air flyin’ through ya nappy hair as ya soar through the air, with a collision course set for J2H.  Do ya feel it yet?  Good, now I want ya to close ya eyes just like ya did when you was just a few feet from crashin’ into my brother.  Do ya remember that feelin’?  That taste of victory on the tip of ya tongue?  That sweet, savory taste like the nectar of the Gods?  Your tongue searches ya entire mouth, tryin’ to lap it awl up, until ya swore ya got hit by a freakin’ bus.

Giani lunges forward with all of his weight, scooping up an imaginary Equinox.  He turns around to face the camera once again, his shoulder slumped over as he carries this imaginary foe toward the camera.

Giani:  Feel that confusion.  I must’ve been jokin’ right?  There’s no way someone who listened to ya deepest, darkest secrets could betray ya, right?  RIGHT?  Then, that sickening feelin’ washes over ya entire body when ya realize… I wasn’t playin’ around.  I was as serious as a freakin’ heart attack.  You looked over at the time table… at ya Roulette Championship, cause ya knew it was the last time you would see it.  It was goin’ back to where it belonged.  Then, I made ya wait.  Ya tried to struggle out of that Bear Hug, but ya just couldn’t. I was too powerful for ya.  Club all ya want, but I wasn’t gonna let ya go until I squeezed every last breath outta ya.  And just before ya passed out, I made sure you was aware enough to feel the final blow as I slammed ya down to the mat.  You was out cold, dawg…  Just like ya gonna be on Sunday.  I’ll make damn sure of it, kid.  So go on and tawk about how ya gonna get ya revenge on me at Climax Control 100. Spew that garbage on Twitter like it’s gonna change that fact, and I do mean FACT!

Giani’s eyes widen, but he seems to be enjoying himself as he drops down to the ground, hunched over the imaginary foe.  He mutters a few secret words to the turf below him, nodding his head as he keeps the secret for himself and Equinox only.  He slowly lifts his head as he stares back into the camera one last time.

Giani:  Think about it.  No one would blame ya if ya didn’t show up to the ring on Sunday, bro.  Well, the fans might.  Since ya don’t got gold anymore, they will start cheerin’ for the next flavor.  But, I will grant ya one last act of kindness, E-Dawg.  I won’t trash tawk ya for chickenin’ out.  I know what I’m capable of, and you do as well.  This is ya free pass.  Don’t show up, save me the effort of workin’ up a sweat to repeat old history.  I’ll let ya fade into the abyss like the nothin’ that ya are, and our beef will be over.  But… don’t take that as me chickenin’ out, cause I’ll gladly knock the fuck outta anyone stupid enough to cross me without givin’ it a second thought.  If ya do show up, I will take somethin’ away from ya.  Ya don’t got a title to take away, so maybe I’ll take away ya motor skills with my patented “Shufflin’” three punch combo.  Maybe I’ll take your ability to walk away with the Fin.  Or, maybe I’ll take ya mask so I can expose ya for the scared little bitch that ya are.  You’ve been warned, Equinox…

Giani does three slow push ups, mimicking the three count once more before pushing himself back up to his feet.  He looks down at the shirt he is wearing, and with a laugh, he rips the shirt down the middle in one quick motion.  He tosses it to the ground to reveal another white shirt with a black fist symbol on the center of his chest.  He nods his head, letting it linger for a second before he lifts his fist into the air.  As he does so, J2H and JN Ringo walk into the shot, fists raised, and the same shirt being displayed.  Giani looks to his left to see J2H.  J2H nods his head, prompting Giani to look to his right.  Ringo gives a firm nod as well, and then Giani looks up at his fist.  He loudly snaps his fingers as the lights shut off in the stadium, shrouding them in darkness once more as we fade.

{21st Century Schizoid Man!}

{fin}