{I got my speakers on WRECKED!}
{Cut Scene}We enter Giani Di Luca’s green room to see the Vegas skyline on the green screen behind his maroon and gold throne. Spinning onto the screen is the Climax Control logo. It rests there for a moment, flashing before it spins back out to show the Vegas skyline once more. Normally, by now, Giani would have sauntered onto the screen to taunt and egg the viewers on. Instead, we hear a loud thumping noise echoing through the speakers followed by Giani’s signature laugh. However, we see nothing but an empty room. Another thud, this time much louder, occurs and Dean Lombardo backs into the room, holding his hands out as if he were trying to plead with Giani. He mumbles something, but Giani comes through the door, bouncing into Dean in an attempt to get into the room. Dean catches him and stands him up straight, talking with Giani who mumbles back. However, his voice gradually gets louder until it becomes audible to the microphones.
Giani: … to know. They need to know it Dean, they need to know! I gotta… I gotta tell ‘em, Dean… Just do this one favor for me…
Dean: Giani… ya drunk as a skunk right now. Sleep it off and tell ‘em in the morning, alright kid?
Giani: They… no, no Dean. I… I gotta tell ‘em. I’m a king and a champion and it’s my room. It’s my cameras… my lights… my chair. It’s mine, and I need to tell ‘em…
Dean shakes his head in frustration, trying to stay calm with Giani as he decides to give in. Instead of blocking Giani, he walks backward, leading him to his chair. He sits Giani down like a child as Giani looks forward. He points with a half smile on his face.
Giani: There’s my favorite-est yellow dot in the whole wide world right there and – oh! – The light’s on. I can tell ‘em, Dino… Thank you bro… Hi everybody. I’m a champion now! I got the belts with James at Into the Void II just like /I said I was um… uhhhh… like I said I was gonna do. Hmm hmm… But, you guys still don’t like me. I did everything you guys wanted to prove I’m the most, um, awesome-est wrestler in the world. That’s okay though. No, no… don’t, just let me finish…
Giani sits there, rubbing his temples as he tries his best to collect his thoughts. As if he were hearing the fans tell him to hurry it up, he pushes his hand out in front of him, motioning for them to calm down. He closes his eyes, a smile creeping over his face.
Giani: It’s okay. It really is. You know why? Cause I got… this…
Giani raises the tag belt up for the world to see. After extending it outward and keeping it there for nearly a minute, he runs his finger over the nameplate with pride. He sets it down on his shoulder slowly, adjusting it until it meets his impaired sense of satisfaction. He takes a deep breath through his nose as he slowly opens his eyes up fully.
Giani: But there’s more. Ohhhhhhhhh yes! There’s more. I think you guys will like this one too. I know that you all hate seeing me with a championship belt around my waist. That’s cool, I understand. I almost feel the same way. See, one reason why I am okay that everyone hates me is cause…
Giani stops once more, his eyes darting around as he tries to think of the best way to say what he wants. His face drains any emotion whatsoever. His drunken stupor fades just as quickly. The only trace of any emotion is the sadness that fills his eyes. The only way to fully grasp this is by looking deep into his eyes. They appear almost sunken in with a light layer of tear covering them and pooling up in the bottom of them.
Giani: … cause, I kinda… hate me too. I get it. I’m an asshole. I’m not a nice person. Very few people are, and I ain’t one uh them either. I hate being an asshole all the time. I hate the people that poke at me like that. I hate that I turned my back on friends. But what I hate most of all is the fact that nobody respects me. I go out to that ring… I kick ass… I walk out victor… um… vict…. Victoriously. You liked me better when I was a spineless henchmen just cause I kissed your asses. I hate that I had to become this person cause it ain’t me. It is becomin’ me though. And it is your fault. And yours… and yours and yours and yours and yours and YOURS!
Giani points frantically in every possible direction as his eyes widen and his anger glosses over his sadness once more. He doesn’t stop pointing even once he stops talking. Finally, Dean comes back inside of the room and picks Giani up from the throne. He grips onto Giani’s shoulders and drags him out of the chair, walking over to the door where an undistinguishable female voice speaks to him. Giani kicks his feet forward, stopping himself from going through the door. The female reaches inside and grabs his feet, helping Dean get him through the door.
Dean: Yeah, call them! I can’t deal with this shit another minute. No amount of money or favors is gonna keep me around much longer…
Dean and the female accomplice get him half way through the door as Giani screams “I’M NOT FINISHED YET!!!” He latches his hands onto the door as Dean struggles to get him through. Giani refuses to let go, but he accidentally hits the button on the wall to end the recording. The screen goes black for just a moment until…
{End Cut Scene}<p align=right>
”Broken… I don’t know if I can be fixed,
Aggression and agony and anguish mixed,
My life feels like a bright, shooting star
The words ringing true, ‘You can only go so far’,
For a moment, I’m the envy of every man,
Going at it as furious and hard as I can,
Only a matter of time before I hit the ground,
Am I still but a king with a broken crown?”{Some Nights}This night was not like any other except for one big factor. We enter Club Rain for SCW’s Sunday Night Seduction special After Party to further raise funds for the Breast Cancer Research Fund. If there is one thing that Erik Staggs could still bring to the table was his ability to throw one enormous free-for-all party contested under Ladies Night rules. The show was all ladies, but the after party was just a little more lenient with the rules. Any man that wanted to step foot into Club Rain after 10pm had to pay a hefty price. There are two men in SCW who throw money around as if it didn’t have any real value, and they were currently the young money duo of Giani Di Luca and James Huntington-Hawkes III. Entering the club like rock stars, Giani is dressed in his signature tailored white suit that hugs every one of his muscles. The suit jacket is buttoned up, but he isn’t wearing a shirt underneath. His muscles glisten in the hot pink tones of the lights flashing around him. He tilts his glasses down to the tip of his nose as the cameras flash around him. He has a bottle of Patron in his left hand as he slides the glasses back up to his eyes, looking over to James. Hawkes is wearing a backward white hat, sunglasses, a white and gold striped polo shirt with skinny jeans. They coordinate on several points. Both men are wearing gold crosses that bang against their chest as they walk down the red carpet in front of them. They both sport the freshest of white sneakers, and obviously their Tag Team Championship belts, James’s around his waist, and Giani’s is draped over his left shoulder to downplay the Patron bottle in his hand. James follows Giani’s lead in an inverted fashion, looking over to Giani, and then scoping the rest of the club out slowly so that the lights catch his eyes. He flashes his pearly white teeth before looking straight ahead. Behind the duo is their security team of Dean Lombardo and Simpson. They cautiously watch their employers while maintaining a nonchalant expression of stone upon their faces. Giani raises the bottle to his lips, taking a swig before getting to the edge of the carpet. He licks the spirit from his upper lip, making sure to savor every drop before he accepts a complimentary glass of moscato from a bar maid dressed in a French Maid outfit, smiling sweetly at him. He notices the passion in her eyes as she tries to hide the fact that she was admiring every visible inch of his skin, as well as the bulge in the front of his pants. He downs it and then tosses the glass behind him, shattering it on the ground. James quickly mimics his friend, downing the glass of wine before nearly gagging. He covers it up by slamming the glass to the ground and daring anyone to step up to him. Giani reaches forward with his fist, bumping it to the fullest. Giani passes the bottle to James who only pretends to take a swig as both men move forward. Giani works his way over to the bar where he flips his credit card out toward the bartender. He holds two fingers out to the side, mouthing something toward the bartender who immediately pours two glasses of draught beer into glasses. Giani accepts them and turns toward James who silently protests any more alcohol. Giani doesn’t seem to pick up on it as he quickly chugs one glass down. It becomes apparent that Giani never intended the other glass for James as he downs the second one almost as quickly. He opens his mouth and lets out a belch that is loud enough to be heard over the blaring music. Everyone stops and looks at Giani, noticing that his usual “pimp bounce” isn’t exactly that, but a drunken stumble. He bumps into a random guy standing near him, and then has the audacity to shout at him as if it were his fault. The man steps up to him, ready to settle it with his fists until Dean steps up and shoves the guy back. Giani points and laughs at the man, shaking his head as he sticks his tongue out at him. Giani moves his way out toward the dance floor where James starts to look relieved. Giani slaps him hard against the back and points to some barely legal piece that is admiring him from the corner of the floor. James does a double take as the cute, innocent looking blonde bashfully waves at him. Giani shoves him off, shouting some drunken blabbering at him before turning around to see the predominantly female crowd on the floor flocking toward him. He holds his arms up in the air, waving them all in as he turns in a complete circle, shouting out his battle cry.
Giani: COME AND GET YOU SOME!!!
Giani reaches into his pocket, pulling out a flask with the Italian Flag on it. He unscrews the top, letting the whiskey pour into his mouth until his insatiable thirst is momentarily quenched. He tucks it back inside of his pants pocket as the ladies closely surround him. He slowly unbuttons his jacket as he grinds to the music. Every lady grabs at him, hoping for just a small touch of his skin, or even his clothing. He plays into it, letting every single one of them before stripping off his jacket. He swings it around in the air, letting it fly out into the crowd as the ladies clamor over it. He gives them all a devious smirk as his eyes flutter. The ladies get the better of him as they swarm toward him shamelessly. One wraps a leg around him, planting her lips to his as she presses as closely to him as she can, hiking her skirt up a bit. Another woman rips the other off and presses her backside against his crotch, bending over, twerking against him as she flips her hair up, letting it fly up and gently fall against her back as she rises up. Before she can turn away, another woman jumps into his arms, pushing her breasts toward his face with a shot glass in her cleavage. She dumps the shot into Giani’s mouth, winning him over as he lowers her feet to the ground. She dances with him momentarily, but only until a pale hand reaches over and rips her away, sending her running into a portion of the crowd like an Irish Whip. Giani’s head spins as he sees the porcelain skin. He hiccups as he hears a harsh voice scolding the ladies around him.
Giani: I *hiccup* er thought-uhhhhh…. You was in Chicago with ya grrrrams or something’…
The woman says nothing as she leads him off to the edge of the floor. His vision clears momentarily to see that this woman was definitely not Misty, but rather Roxanne. Her intimidating blue green eyes nearly shaking with rage as she lets the other women know to back off. She slowly wraps her arms around him, gently swaying from side to side to make it look like it is something more than what it truly is. Giani looks at her face as she slowly turns her wicked gaze back in his direction. He tilts his head back and gently chuckles.
Giani: Heh heh heh… you smell like chocolate… erm, cause you was covered in puddin’ earlier. That was hot…
Roxanne: I’m glad you found something to piddle your pud to… Now how about you explain to me why the FUCK are you out here trying to screw around on Misty with everything going on for her? Are you really that dense?
Giani lets his arms dangle down to his side, turning his head to look back at the crowd of women who are wishing he were in their company right now instead of that… bitch! He smiles sheepishly at them before trying to break free from Roxanne’s grip. She refuses, pulling him in closer as he groans, pointing at the one who gave him the booby shot. Roxanne jerks him back, causing his eyes to widen as he looks at her.
Roxanne: An explanation would be wonderful right about now…
Giani: Ummm… why do ya even give a shit, Roxie? You always hated her, and ya nearly killed her last year about this time. Suddenly ya her best friend? Or are ya wonderin’ why I ain’t stuck it to ya yet instead of chasin’ other tail cause ya too much like a man for me?
Roxanne smirks before leaning in as if she is about to kiss him. Instead, she gives him a sudden Headbutt that surprisingly hurts him considering the close distance. She licks her lips for posturing as the corner of his mouth curls into a half smile.
Roxanne: I could take out more than half of the men in SCW if I could, but that doesn’t mean there is anything manly about me. The fact of the matter is that Misty and I have made our amends. Is she my best friend…? No… Not by a long shot. I learned a lot about friends recently. Anyone with half a brain can’t be trusted. But I am your friend…
Giani: Waidaminute… Are… are ya callin’ me stupid?
Roxanne releases her hold on Giani’s shoulders as she softly claps her hand as if encouraging a young child through positive reinforcement. He scowls at her, but his brain is too clouded to really form an argument to the contrary. Roxanne gets a look of satisfaction as she gently places her hands on his shoulders once again.
Roxanne: For some reason, I respect you for sticking by Erik even though the ship was sinking, like a loyal crew while the rats fled. Same goes for Misty. The thing is that you are changing. I just want to know what is going on to cause this?
Giani: Are you fuckin’ serious? I been changin’ since the day I took off my NXT shirt. I been evolving and growin’ into a future Heavyweight champion. No matter what is goin’ on in my personal life, I’m changin’ for the better.
Roxanne rolls her eyes as Giani’s eyes continue to flutter from the Headbutt earlier. He blinks his eyes to clear the stars from them, but is unsuccessful in the process. Instead he continues looking directly at her. Once Roxanne feels she has his attention for the briefest of moments, she responds.
Roxanne: Just because you faced some random pairing who was lucky enouh to become the tag champions, that means nothing. Your partner lost to one of them a few weeks ago. After Summer XXXTreme II, you might not even have tag gold. You are on some crazy downward spiral ever since Misty started having personal issues. You decided not to show up to a show you were booked at because of a “party”, which come to find out was a hospital party where you were downing shots of charcoal. You step it up when she is around, but you lose it like a codependent puppy dog when she isn’t. I just don’t get it.
Giani: Then don’t fucking try to get it. Let me live my own damn life the way I want to and remove ya’self from it…
Roxanne: Like hell I will… You might not make it to the hospital next time, and for some reason, my conscience… yeah I have one surprisingly… won’t let me watch you burn out. Plus, you are a role model to James, and if I didn’t try to help you, then I would watch him go down the same path. Don’t make me sound more caring than I have to…
Giani almost seems to enjoy hearing her beg him to get help. He chuckles to himself as he breaks free from her grasp. Her claws dig into him, leaving four bleeding scratches on his shoulders which he is oblivious to. He turns around and flips her off as he walks backward into the crowd of women that seems to engulf him. She shakes her head in disappointment as he disappears into the crowd, watching the shots and glasses coming in his direction. She purses her lips as her eyes go ablaze with anger. She takes a slow step backward, her wet hair almost swinging as she spins on her stiletto heel and she walks in the opposite direction, muttering curses under her breath as she disappears.
{I got my speakers on WRECKED!}”To my emotions, a slave,
To the masses, myself I gave
Unfulfilled I did remain
I feel as if I’m going insane
How do I escape this trap?
I might as well say goodbye to my strap
I need to find a way to mend
Or for me, it just might be the end…We come inside to see what looks like a low budget infirmary clinic. The room is clouded in smoke, making it hard to see everything at first. Giani is set up in a corner of this room, next to a window lying down on a cot. He groans as he struggles to roll over onto his side. It takes him a couple of tries, but he makes it just in time as he buries his head in a bucket, puking his guts up. He removes his head for just a moment to take a breath before lowering it again to go another round with the Budweiser Flu. His yakking causes a deep, hearty laugh to echo off of the drab concrete walls. Giani can’t remove his head to even begin to try finding out who it is to his side in the distance. He simply groans as his stomach tries expelling the poisons of his very exciting night before.
”That’s right, get it all up son…”Giani decides upon hearing the voice that he doesn’t even want to pull his head out of the bucket. If he could, he would bury his head in it and drown himself. He groans even louder before getting a hold of himself. He slowly peeks out of the bucket, making eye contact with someone off camera. He has a wickedly angry, miserable look on his face before lowering down to spew a bit more. He acts almost as if he wants to cry as his groaning seems stuttered by his misery. He is finally able to lift his head from the bucket long enough to wipe at his mouth with his hand.
Giani: Where the hell am I?
The laughing starts again, this time it is more joyous than before as a door is heard creaking open. Uncomfortably, Dean comes down the rickety stairs quickly holding a tray with scrambled eggs, orange juice, a stack of waffles, links of sausage and almost as many pieces of bacon. The food barely fits on the plate next to a little vase with a single carnation poking out of it. Dean walks it over to Giani, seeming a bit pained by the task as he holds it out to Giani whose cheeks puff out as he buries his face in the bucket again. In between spewing, he mutters a simple phrase to Dean.
Giani: You *BLAHHHHHHH* asshole!
Giani coughs on it a bit as Dean prepares to set the tray down on a small table next to the cot. He stops when a voice interrupts his thought process.
”Stop right there… I wanna see you waft it in his face with a piece of cardboard…”Dean: You gotta be shittin’ me, man…
The laugh echoes off of the walls once more, letting Dean know it is anything but a joke. Dean rolls his eyes as he looks at Giani who is already suffering a great deal. He shakes his head as he angrily steps away from his employer, refusing to do what was asked of him. Just then, a tall, stocky man walks into the camera shot, standing eye level with Dean. He is out of shape with mostly gray hair, but he does not back down from Dean one bit, despite how much he probably would any other time.
Man: If ya not gonna help me, then do me a favor and get the hell outta here, will ya?
Dean’s left eye twitches a bit in anger as his upper lip curls menacingly. He grunts in anger as he slowly turns away from the older man and storms off almost as quickly as he arrived. The chunky man slowly turns to Giani, folding his arms over his chest, letting his cigarette protrude from between his fingers. He raises it up to his lips, taking a deep drag before returning his hand to his bicep menacingly. His deep, dark brown eyes stare down at Giani as he silently watches Giani’s head raise up from the bucket after a couple of dry heaves.
Giani: Has anyone ever told ya that ya a pain in the ass, old man?
Man: Like father like son. I hoped ya woulda learned from my mistakes, son. But here you are, a boy at a man’s age. I failed ya, Gi, but I won’t do that again.
Giani’s stomach turns a bit as he tries to stop his stomach from retching again. He makes audible sounds to let us know that this is no easy task. His father almost seems to be getting satisfaction from his son’s misery. He uncrosses his arms and takes another drag from his cigarette before letting both arms set at his side.
Lou: I’m glad your friend Roxanne called us cause I had no idea you was in so much trouble, son. Last I heard, you was in a successful group here in Las Vegas, the new extremities or somethin’ like that.
Giani scoffs during his momentary break from puking. He sighs angrily as his eyes meet his father’s. They rest there for a moment, refusing to break before he gives in with an explanation.
Giani: I swear, ya so retarded sometimes. I was in the New X-Tremes for a while, but they was holdin’ me back. I was Spike Staggs’ goon and I got tired of it. But maybe if ya paid half as much attention to me as ya do with Vanna, then maybe ya would know some-a this stuff, ey?
Lou: Maybe if ya was half as successful as ya sister, then I would.
Giani: I got fifty times as much money as she does, AND I was on a TV show for 4 fuckin’ years, pops… What more do ya want? You know, it’s disgusting how much you cherish her that ya even named ya first and only son after her…
Lou simply chuckles again, causing Giani to get even more upset. He is about to say something until he is forced to bury his head in the bucket once again. He pukes into the bucket, trying to hold it back as much as he can, but this only seems to fuel the alcohol induced fire in his stomach.
Lou: Ya sister isn’t an alcoholic. Ya sister has a college degree. Ya sister goes to mass every week with her husband and her three kids. You dropped outta high school, partied on my dime, slept with every girl within 5 years of ya in Seaside Heights, and ya haven’t been to mass since ’06.
Giani raises his head up from the bucket with a look of disgust. It is hard to tell if it was the second tasting of the pre-party calamari, or his father’s apparent lack of caring. He shakes his head and his eyes light up on fire as he stands up quickly. He realizes once his posture straightens that this wasn’t the best idea, so he sits back down on the cot, taking a deep breath before he begins shouting back at his father.
Giani: Then maybe I gave ya twice as many grandkids as Vanna like ya stay up my ass about! Jesus fuckin’ Christ, dad! If this is your idea of an intervention to get me to stop drinkin’, ya might wanna think up another approach! Like maybe leavin’ my picture perfect sister and her drug addict husband out ya fuckin’ mouth! Or, do what ya normally do and fuck off outta my life entirely and let me screw it up on my own!
Lou: We’re FINALLY gettin’ somewhere here! You admit that ya a fuck up. That’s the first step, son. Keep ‘em comin’…
Giani shakes his head as his stomach turns again. This time, it is quite clear that it is his father that is making him sick to his stomach. He gets up from the cot and bumps into his father with his shoulders. Giani walks toward the steps, and his father drops the cigarette on the ground, putting it out with his loafers. Giani, almost blinded by rage, hits his head on the chains of the sling hanging from the middle of the drab basement ceiling. He bats it away disgustedly as he walks to the bottom of the steps. He father chases after him.
Lou: Where do ya think ya goin’, ya disrespectful little brat?
Giani: I ain’t goin’ nowhere. I’m showin’ you the door so that you and ma can go back to Jersey and leave me the hell alone. And since ya can’t catch a hint that ya not wanted, I was gonna be a little more direct and show ya where the door was. Maybe even give ya a nice little warnin’ about the doors’ tendency to hit ya on the ass, and what not…
Lou: You are NOT too old to spank, son…
From the top of the stairs, the soft feminine coo of satisfaction comes from Roxanne, only momentarily distracting Giani and Lou from their argument as her heels click against the wooden steps slowly, but pointedly.
Giani: Motherfucker, I would love to see ya fat ass try it. I ain’t ten anymore. You can’t intimidate me like you used to. If ya hand comes anywhere near me, I will break it off and beat ya with it. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!
Roxanne reaches the bottom step and her normal leather attire catches Lou’s attention for a moment as she pushes her chest out in his direction. She slowly and methodically moves her shoulders up and down as she offers his father a wink.
Roxanne: That is no way to treat your father, Giani… He deserves more than what you are giving him… like a steel toed boot to his sack. And if he doesn’t leave, that “No Tresspassing” sign with become Electra’s new best friend…
Lou seems taken aback by this as he finally takes his eyes off of Roxanne’s voluptuous curves to see the stern look in her eyes. He rolls his own eyes at her with a bit of a smirk. Roxanne chuckles softly as she reaches her hand up into the air and snaps her fingers. Quicker than she could have even hoped for, Electra comes running down the stairs with Boy closely following. Electra laughs excitedly and sadistically as she pulls out several different Zippo lighters from her pockets, frantically deciding which one to start with first. Boy turns to Roxanne who leans down and slowly unzips the front of his leather brief shorts and his mouth hole of his mask as well.
Roxanne: Electra, if Luciano Di Luca is not off the premises in sixty seconds, you have my permission to do as you please with him and Boy…
Lou scoffs as he stares at Roxanne and Giani both before brushing between them and he jogs up the stairs. Roxanne looks over at Giani, and in an almost dry manner, she speaks to him.
Roxanne: Sorry your father is such a dick. I thought he might be able to help, but I guess we could try something else.
Giani slowly nods his head, agreeing with her, or so she thinks. Instead he turns to her, his eyes lined with tears of rage and sadness combined. He grits his teeth, his body trembling with anger as he speaks to her.
Giani: Stay out of my business you disgusting whore. I didn’t ask for ya help and I sure as FUCK didn’t need THIS! If YOU had half a brain, I might actually respect what you tried to do for me, but the truth is that you couldn’t have been further from the truth. I would rather wake up every morning, pukin’ over scrambled eggs and Dean’s knock off Noir over seein’ a picture of that man any day. I will say this once more… and only once… stay the FUCK outta my personal life, mind ya goddamn business, and know ya role in this little business arrangement we got with Erik. Capiche? As ordered… by ya king!
With that, Giani walks away from Roxanne and starts up the steps, stomping on his way up almost like a child throwing a temper tantrum. Roxanne’s eyes follow him, seeming to actually have an emotion besides anger or amusement. Her face fills with a bit of sadness as she sighs, the light pouring in from the basement kitchen slimming down to nothing as Giani closes the door behind him.
Electra: So… should I set Giani on fire, or…?
Roxanne shakes her head as she slowly walks up the steps. Electra’s face also becomes masked with sadness as she zips Boy’s pants and mask up once more. She and Boy follow Roxanne’s foot steps as they, too, exit the scene and we fade.
{I got my speakers on WRECKED!}”I don’t know where I’m going now,
I am not ready to take my final bow,
But do I really have a choice?
No matter how loud I speak, no one hears my voice,
My spirit is weak, my bones are dry,
All I know is I have to try,
For if I cannot rise above,
If push shall come to shove,
You cannot kill what you did not create,
But you made me a monster, this was my fate,
My kindness, my spirit, my charisma, and my integrity,
You have all raped and taken from deep within me,
My hope, my charm, my energy, and my pride,
You watched as it all just withered and died,
But to my last breath, there is one thing that is mine
The will to recover, persevere, and shine!
-Giani Di Luca”{I got my speakers on WRECKED!}
{Cut Scene}Back inside of the green room, there is no nonsense. The screen still sports the Vegas skyline as the Climax Control logo flashes in the background on occasion. However, there is something different, yet very much the same, sitting in front of the camera. Giani Di Luca is already sitting down in his throne, prepped and ready for his promo. He takes his obligatory sip from the Smart Water bottle, showing off the logo for his sponsor before setting it, logo out, on the arm of his throne. He looks deep into the camera, a faux sense of determination present in his eyes as he rubs his hands together.
Giani: Finally! A chance to rub it in each and every one of you hater’s faces that I am, in fact, STILL half of the SIN CITY WRESTLING TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS!!! Suck on that ass hats! I’m still here, and ya can’t shake me so ya might as well get over it. As a matter of fact, this week I get the opportunity to prove exactly why we are the champions. I gave James a present by letting him pin Goth for the titles, but the real reason we won is right here in front of ya faces!
Giani leans forward, pointing with a major sense of authority toward his face. He slowly but surely nods his head to emphasize how true his statement is. He stops and leans back in his throne, kicking his feet up, clearing his throat as he waits for Dean to bring his matching ottoman under his feet. Dean takes a moment longer to complete the task than Giani would like, so he clears his throat even louder as he takes another sip from his water bottle.
Giani: I beat the ever lovin’ fuck outta both guys through the entire match. I Gorilla Press Slammed James on top of that painted up freak to give him a confidence boost. What can I say? I’m a helluva guy! People’s got the nerve to tell me that I didn’t win the match when I clearly could have a hundred times over. So, this week, I’m gonna do the one thing that everyone thinks I can’t do. I’m gonna go out there and I’m gonna beat the hell outta Goth. I’m gonna remind that freak just why he deserves to stay hidden behind that face paint. I’m gonna maim him. I will destroy him. I will make him wish he was never born. I mean, again, since I already took the one thing that made him mean anything in this company other than a parody of his own damn self…
Giani does his signature laugh as he rubs his hands together for emphasis. The excitement etched on his face tells the story of the million painful ideas he has in store for Goth as he leans forward in his chair a bit.
Giani: Now, I could go on for another hour about how he is a painted up freak, but I’ve said it already. The facts is that I’m outta Goth’s league. I’m outta anyone’s league in SCW, but especially Goth. Everyone out there who is anxiously waitin’ for Goth to murder me in the ring is gonna get a really rude, harsh awakenin’. Everyone likes to say the same things over and over about me, sayin’ I ain’t never done anything to deserve to call myself a king. They make Jersey Shore jokes about GTL and DTF and whatnot, but while they are laughin’ at me, I’m at the gym trainin’ to beat the cocky smirks off of their faces. I’m preparing myself for battle, and I almost always go in there and do exactly what I say I’m gonna do. Am I lyin’?
Giani shrugs his shoulders out as if to beg an audible answer. He waits for a moment, making sure to take another sip from his water bottle for the camera to pick up, before setting it back at his side. He props the championship belt back up on his shoulder, subliminally pointing to the fact that he has it because of his remarkable abilities over his opponent for this week.
Giani: And now we are gonna hear from Goth about how I’m some cliché of a wrestler and reality TV star. We get to listen to him babble on in his horrible mockery of the English language, trying to act like a poet or some Lothario when he is just a mealy mouthed, idiotic sonuvabitch. Secretly you all want to see me kick his ass, but because he was dumb enough to wear Team SCW a month ago, you will cheer for him. It’s okay, I understand the subtext. The truth is that everyone knows I am better than him, but they are in denial of it. When I destroy him, everyone will act like it was the upset of the century, but in fact, it will only be the inevitable. It is common sense, people! I am the bigger man. I am the better competitor. I am superior in every way, and I’m gonna prove it once again for you dumbasses in the audience and watching from the internet at home. I am the King of the Ring, I am the Reflection of Perfection… I am “The Italian Stallion”… Giani Di Luca. And Goth…?
Giani moves the ottoman out of the way with his feet as he stands up from his chair. He gets within inches of the camera lens, getting a close up of his face for added emphasis. He pauses silently, letting the audience focus on his intense stare before finally speaking, a half smile creeping upon his face.
Giani: … come Sunday, prepare for… the STAMPEEEEEEDE!
Giani slowly steps back, moving the camera until it is focused only on his face, shoulders, and half of the SCW Tag Team Championships. He pauses there, knowing that everyone, especially Goth’s, eyes are focused on the title belt resting exactly where it belongs… upon his shoulder! He slowly steps back, picking up his bottle of water before moving over to the door. He slaps the wall before exiting, causing the screen to go black.
{End Cut Scene}
{I got my speakers on, speakers on, speakers on, speakers on… I got my speakers on WRECKED!}
{fin}
