‘No man is an island entire of itself;
every man is a piece of the continent,
a part of the main;
if a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were,
as well as a manor of thy friends or of thine own were;
any man's death diminishes me,
because I am involved in mankind.
And therefore never send to know for whom
the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.’
John Donne uttered those immortal words; personally I have no idea of what he’s going on about. One thing I do know is that one man can be a brand; as long as that one man is me.
‘True Brit’ Johnny Brown is the brand. I am the product. I am marmite; Love me or hate me people tune in to see me. That equals ratings and that equals money. It seems my machine gun trash talk was struck a nerve with the S-C-Dub Sinners; they want to see someone shut my mouth up once and for all. Before I graced this place with my presence they all played nice. They all wanted to help ‘the product’; make this place great…
Me; I don’t care about making others look good, I don’t live by the rule is your opponent is made to look like crap in the advance hype would cares about your match. If you lose to $hit that makes you less than $hit, if you beat a piece of $hit so what he was no in your league anyway.
I get the point I just don’t subscribe to it. If I called you $hit kick my arse and prove me wrong. If I’ve called your favourite $hit tune in to see if your hero can prevail. The more eyes on me the more I can sell my advertising space fer I mean for, my agent says I need to clear up my accent the dumbass Americans need subtitles when I’m on screen. Normally I wouldn’t give a f*ck but if it helps me make dollars it makes sense or something like that, I don’t get the American way of talking. My nation invented the language and now I need to change it for them? The things we do for love money.
I’ve always been proud of my nation, we are the leaders of the free world, or we were. I’ve always worn my heart and my flag on my sleeve but at London’s Brawling I should have been THE crowd favourite. I was the returning hero, they should have booed Rage out of the building, he stole my slot but they cheered the meathead.
My only consolation was that he lost; just like I knew he would. It was the office that got him to that slot, I saw the fast counts and selectively blind ref that got him through the tourney while eliminating the true talent, and by that I mean me. They made sure Goth got the win in our match cos they knew I would expose Rage in our match, even if they could pull of a screwball finish I would expose the 7DS bag handler for the brainless talentless hulk he was/is.
So, this is what brought me to where I am now. MY journey through BS has given me a new slant on things. I’m always gonna be me, nothing can change my nature but if I need to make a few changes to help the bank balance I’ll do it.
Time fer—;damn it, for me to go visit my agent to find out my latest sponsorship deals. Johnny ‘The Brand’ Brown is here and I want all eyes on me.
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Palatial is a word bandied around these days… but this apartment takes palatial and wipes its arse on it. Charles ‘Chuck’ Steinberg lives large, sure the place is rented to try to impress me but I don’t care. I’m sipping cognac and living the dream.
Chuck:The match is in Johnny and it’s a big one!
Do you see how signing with SMI was the greatest move of all time?!
That’s Chuck, he’s my agent. Weird bald little bastard isn’t he. Nice suit though. His middle name is hyperbole, well actually its Norris it’s clear his parents had a sense of humour. My point is Chuckie maybe cheesy but he pumps everyone up. It could be what I need to take the next step.
Of course the match this week is the main event; about damn time! Last week I got Dennis Stamped; and wasn’t even booked, Casey Williams took the brunt of my displeasure, payback is yo momma or something like that. My choking of a giant seemed to have worked wonders as this week I’m rubbing shoulder with the SCW champions.
Alongside the True Brit is THE champion, the big man on campus, a man I should have faced; and beaten at London’s Brawling, SCW Champion Nick ‘The Prick’ Jones.[/COLOR]
Johnny: What’s the saying about keeping your enemies close? An unconfirmed rumour says Nick asked for me to be his partner. Does he know that one day soon I’ll be beating down his door so he wanted to scout me up close and personal? P’haps… Perhaps!
It doesn’t bother me, he can put me under a microscope and poke me with a stick it won’t help him. When I’m ready to flip the switch and take him down none of his well-oiled machines will stop me, that is a tale for another day.
Like a kid at Christmas Chuck is beaming an running around like a loon, his ever present glass of red wine leaving a trail as he goes. By stark contrast the other member of my entourage; you don’t have a monopoly on that NJ, is Tyler.
Tyler ‘calling me master wasn’t funny the first 20 times’ Bates is too cool for school. Seriously just looking at him makes me want to punch him in the face, and that’s why I like him so much. He’s what I need; lately I’ve been getting a few cheers, they are quiet but they are there. I don’t need them; in the U.K. they would have been expected (didn’t happen but were expected), after all I was a returning conquering hero but to think of the damn Yankees cheering me for my impressive displays of bad-assery no thank you sir!
Chuck:Man, Tyler was right, since you’ve dropped your accent you’ve become even more hated. Those chicks dug you and your sexy ‘cor blimeyness’ Bates you’re a genius.
Tyler holds up two fingers in a salute of sorts. Trademarked stuff.
Johnny: Chuck I have never said cor or blimey together. But I get Tyler’s point. I don’t like wrestling fans, or other wrestlers really, so why not eliminate anything that draws them to me. I am a arsehole, I always have been and always will be. I could quite happily beat the pi$$ out of both of you right now and not care.
Chuck:Ha ha Johnny, good one?? You’re not joking are. I can respect that, but lets not waste your aggression on those of us that are only here to help lets focus on your opponents. My secretary has brought you the notes she prepared.
Johnny: Do you mean these?
I grab the reams of paper left my baldies bit of skirt on the side and rip them into pieces; a flick of the wrist and they’re airborne giving Chuck an impromptu tickertape parade. Steinberg drops to his knees picking them up then piecing back together.
Johnny: A scouting report from a secretary? What’s next? A weight-loss program by Casey Williams? Let you secretary do what she’s good at and chew on your schmuck and let me take care of the wrestling. I know what Douchespayre and Gaybriel are all about. They hide behind their bull$hit façade of… whatever the hell it i? Emo, magic, deep tortured soul I don’t know and frankly I don’t care.
They’re tag team champs… so am I supposed to be impressed by that? I don’t do tag teams, I don’t play nice with others. The deal with Kennedy last week was purely a mutually beneficial arrangement, neither one of us likes Casey. The big lug choked me out, I wonder how Case liked them apples, payback is done… for now.
Chuck:Don’t shut that door to soon, there’s money to be made there John, Casey Williams may have a sketchy win/loss record but he’s an attraction with title wins under his belt. He could win the Roulette title this week, next week you call him out ka-ching you’re the new champion.
Johnny: The Roulette champion? Me? The only Roulette champion I’m interested in is the ex-champ Bo Dreamwolf. The office clearly has him marked for a shot at Jones, if I take him out “ka-ching” I get the shot at the Cocky Tw*t. Bigger picture guys.
Dollar signs light up in my sidekick’s eyes. I know how to work them both, Despite his cool exterior even Tyler is motivated by the almighty dollar.
Johnny: Dreamwolf could be the best in the business, next to me, yet he holds onto grudges of his mentor that’s stops him from achieving his greatness; shame for him; bonus for me. In a few short days I will be hitting the headlines for taking out 5 men in one match. Pick your chin up Chuck I know it’s not a free for all. I’ll keep myself in check until the final bell rings, once the ref counts 1-2-3 anyone left standing will be mine.
Cage is to raw to be considered competition to me, I might even let him walk away, but Jones, Dreamwolf or Rage’s bosses are fair game. They stand in the Brands way of making money, its as simple as that.
Chuck:Johnny, I love you, we’re going to make so much money together. Everything is about money, although I think taking on Jones at the moment is a mistake. Take on Bo or find a teammate and take out Sinful Obsession then go for Jones, play the long game, it’ll make you more cash.
What the f*ck doesn’t this d*ckhead believe in me, that’s right back up motherf*cker. The True Brit is getting in your face. Ha I can see the sweat popping across his bald little head. Looks like Tyler doesn’t care he’s too busy playing with his luscious locks, bastard.
Johnny: So you don’t think I can take Jones? You think Bo is a soft touch? Or that I should split my winnings with a partner? What sort of agent are you? I’ll tell you want, I’ll clean up my language, because I want everyone of the dumb-arse Sinners hear what I have to say. I’ll where all this gear because of the money people are throwing at me.
But I WILL NOT take tactical advice from a suit, or your seemingly mute partner in crime. I am the True Brit, I am the Brand!
Your agency, SCW and the whole effin world revolves around me.
I am the moon, the stars, the whole bloody universe!
Despy can close your eyes, cuddle your little bear real tight and wish I wasn’t on his horizon. It wont make it any less real. He is a disgrace to this sport, he’s not a real man. Has he even looked in a mirror? He looks like something out of a budget horror movie, those stupid marks on his face will be replaced with real scars, I’ll rip clumps of hair out until he looks like a real man. Who the hell shaves half of their head?
Chuck:Your preaching to the choir John, I think Despayre is even weirder than his tag team partner.
Johnny: That’s not an easy thing to do but you’re right Chuckster. Despite his cheap parlour tricks and hokey act Gabriel is not as lame as Desp, at least he’s clever enough to get Rage to carry his bags. Despite the rumours I don’t think he’s a Brit.
There’s no way he could survive wearing leather pants that tight in the U.K. still he was the first heavyweight champ in SCW so kicking his bony arse all over Nuggets will up my stock, I guess.
When I have wiped the mat with the Angel of Sin I’ll take the final member of the Village People.
Compared to the beating I’ll give Mr D-Wolf the Indian Removal Act will seem like a happy event. I wont just relocate the injun apple from his homeland I’ll relocate his head from his shoulders courtesy of the EDL. They’ll have to use his stupid tattoos to identify his body. This paleface is gonna leave his red skin black and blue.
Why is this idiot stood here with his mouth open? Let me guess.
Chuck:Johnny you can't say that! We’ll be kicked off the network? We’ll….
Johnny: Shut it Chuck! You can open a bottle then ask for the lightning to jump back in. You wanted controversy, you wanted press we’ll I’m going to get it. I don’t care about race I care about getting under my opponent’s skin, whatever colour it is. If they want to shut me up they can try.
Despy, Gabby, Bo or Jones I’ll take them on.
Chuck:Don’t forget Bobby Cage-
I just smile, Bobby Cage? I guess he picks up the soap in the SCW showers too. He doesn’t register on my radar. MY eyes are set on the Heavyweight title, I don’t care about anything else. Rule f*cking Britannia.
The True Brit is coming an’ I'm gonna kick yer effin head in!
