Post by MasterEvil on Feb 28, 2012 7:48:00 GMT
“I know you have what it takes to be a great dad, hell, Sabrina has your eyes.” Those words echoed within my head has I sat here in the Rome Colosseum, a good forty-three point eight miles away from the Animosity’s location of Florence. I know that there is a video camera recording me at this very moment but why should I rush, I lost last week and the week before so I’m bound to lose tomorrow...so why care anymore? Why should I care about who I'm facing anymore? Why should I care if my eyes are closed?
TBS: Its amazing what you can see with your eyes shut Randall. You can't see the future and you can't see the past but you can eye what no one else can...your mind. What can you see when you just close your eyes Orton? Snakes? Vipers? Voices? Your wife? Your father? Your father’s father? You see any of these I congratulate you on this because I don't see any of this. What I see is a forest where trees are made of barbed-wire and the grass are just millions of pins and needles. With the grave of Serena to my right and the face of that judge to my left.
Once I said these words I shot open my eyes and stared out at the camera has it record me. I refuse to waste my time within my stalking thoughts and began to speak out.
TBS: Last week you lost again Orton, just like me. The week before you lost, just like me. Yet we seem to have taken different routes on how to bounce back from such a downfall...you’ve chosen to break down your ferocious fury upon those deemed has crossing your path. While I chose to go upon a path of self-discovery yet it seem that our paths start on a crossroads with each other. Who will leave the collision unharmed? Who will walk out of the car crash while the other remains trapped inside crumpled metal? Who would continue on their path and who will leave in an ambulance? But why I should care? We enter the coliseum has losers and at the end of the day, no matter who has been victorious and who has been slain, we will both still be losers.
My confidence is shot, I gravely admit…its one thing to lose back-to-back but to do it in your homeland, that seem to have shattered what was my self-assurance. But why should I care now? Win or lose I’ll be rated the same by everyone has just somebody who doesn’t deserve here, in World Elite Wrestling.
TBS: So why should I take anything seriously Randall Keith Orton? Why should I take the match seriously? Why should I take your viperous personality seriously? Why should I take those voices in your head seriously? Why should I take Sophie Oliveira’s refusal seriously? Why should I take the power of the Oliveira family seriously? Why should I take you seriously Orton? You claim to have voices in your head while you behave like someone who happily lets his own anger consume him…but what I see instead is a joke, a sham, a shadow of what you once was…an eternal shadow to what you was expected to be. You are no snake and I see no venom in your eyes, what I see when I look into your eyes is what I see when I looked in the eyes of all the others…a somebody. A being that exist with a beating heart…a delicate heart…a valuable heart…a priceless heart…a fragile heart.
Has I sat my hands held my legs, securing my thighs against my chest. To a point it interests me how Orton has stolen last week’s show, laying out the Universal Champion Vantage with a RKO, and now has been booked in the first half of this week’s card. A booking failure by higher ups if you ask me but at the end of the day I’m just a wrestler, my concerns are just what happens in the ring and my activities to get over, not booking a potential disasterpiece.
TBS: A heart pumps the blood throughout the body while maintaining and controlling these emotions with every single beat. So dependant on such a small organ, that is the weakness of every somebody like you and Sophie, Orton. But what happens when your heart stops, or even breaks? The emotions go out of control and you lose the flow of blood, thus killing you Randall. But my heart never broke, it never stopped…it was ripped out of me and gobbled up while I watch. I don’t feel anything anymore but I know what these emotions feel like…I don’t feel my blood anywhere within this body in front of you. I am a being that shouldn’t exist, a being that has no heart, a being that is incomplete…I am a nobody. I fear nothing and I worry less, can you say the same Randall? Maybe but, unlike you, I am not one to be blinded by rage. I could state how much of a failure your granddaddy was or state the simple yet embarrassing fact that your father’s only claim to fame was faking an injury and what will you do? You’ll get yourself disqualified…what a weakness. But why should you take me serious Orton? All I know you could be seeing me has your chance to either fortify your own spot on the show or just send a message to everyone backstage, Champion or not.
“If I didn‘t believe in you then I wouldn’t have ‘I do’ in the first place Jericho,” roams about throughout my mind and it seem to be getting louder and louder with every word I spoke…I also coughed out my last few words has these thoughts are distracting me from what I need to do, like breath for example.
TBS: Why should you take me serious Orton? I lost to a guy that has never been anything more than a low-card superstar. I lost to Sophie’s lapdog, President Chance Rugani. I lost time and time and time again. So why take me serious Randall? I’ll tell you why…I lost a lot of things but the thing I missed the third most is my mind. I have no sense, I have no dignity, I have no vanity, I have no consideration towards the aftermath of whatever action I take. People think I plan out my moves but the truth of the matter is that I have no plan, never did and never will, all I do is out of my instincts to the reward no matter how high the risk.
“It doesn’t matter if we spend the rest of our lives in that caravan. I’ll help you redecorate it so that it will be a good place for Sabrina,” these voices became louder within my cranium has I continued to speak out my thoughts word after word after word. I am hearing voices in my head but it is the same voice over and over and over again…once I finished speaking I stood up and spread my arms out.
TBS: Italy is a good place for our clash Orton, because of its most historic sport that involves these coliseums…don’t know its name but the combatants are called gladiators. It is normally a one-on-one fight with weapons, shields and armour…at the end the loser is either killed or spared with a shattered reputation. I class us has gladiators Randall, you be the gladiator of the serpent corner and I’ll be the gladiator of the mongoose corner. Tomorrow night we’ll battle for pride, honour and the continuation of our desired path…even if your goal is to put me out, I’ll accept your plea for mercy and I’ll let you walk out of the arena. Unlike real mongooses I will not kill your viperous self but like them I shall not lose to you Orton…and at the end of the night you will indeed hear a new voice in your head. That voice will just say one thing over and over and over again. I am The Broken Saint…Break Me! I Don’t Care.
Once I said these words I walked past the camera, refusing to look at it, and waited for it to switch itself off, by lack of power, before picking it up. “What could I ever do without you,” it was a good thing has well because those last few words really shook me up inside, so much that a tear escaped my left eye…luckily I managed to wipe it off before heading off to the taxi, that should take me to Florence. Do I have a chance against Randy Orton? Could his training from Lya Batiste-Jax give him an edge over me? Am I worrying too much? I don’t know the answers to any of these questions, neither do I care, but one thing that I do know…that damn Hundro Kaladze opted to stay in America instead of travelling the world, probably to avoid me I predict.