Post by Seth Lerch on May 18, 2020 20:49:27 GMT -5
Someone on reddit typed out Hangman Page's promo from the most recent episode. I don't actually watch BTE that much and didn't see this, but reading the transcript reminded me of a roleplay, to be honest, so I figured I'd post it in case anyone else might've missed it otherwise. What I like is that he alludes to his whole storyline and The Elite and Kenny and all without every specifically talking about them, and everything that has happened to him since his match against Jericho for the AEW Title.
Hey Everybody welcome to “Hangman gets drunk and lives in the woods” and I’ve been excelling at both of those things and it’s about time to hunker down for the night. But first I wanted to tell you about something that happened to me earlier today. So I justed climbed the big red oak that’s around the corner from my shittin’ hole and opened up my last bottle of whiskey when hear what sounded like a miniature tornado spin right past my ear. But it wasn’t a tornado obviously, it was a god damned bald eagle landing in her nest about 30 feet away from me to my left. So I took the first swig of my last bottle of whiskey and watched this eagle settle down in her nest and I couldn’t help but have the feeling that maybe I should… go home….
Maybe I should go home? I don’t know, the thought itself bloomed inside my brain like a malignant tumor; uninvited, unwelcomed, but growing just the same. I mean it would be ridiculous to go home right now. Because out here I can’t get infected. I can’t infect anyone else. I mean, we’re all in this together. It’s not just some Kumbaya platitude regugitated over a soft melody during a Subaru Forrester commercial. It’s a biological reality of an exponentially spreading infectious disease and it feels irresponsible to go back to my house. I mean even now… I would never know if I overreacted coming out here to live. But I would forever live with the pain of knowing I didn’t do enough. And to be honest, I’ve been kind of enjoying living out here. I got good company, and I know you can’t see them right now, but they’re everywhere. It’s not just people either. Two days ago I swear a raven winked at me. As I sat there and I watched this eagle start preening her tail feathers in her nest, I thought it. “Maybe I should go home?”
I don’t know.. Why did I think that in the first place? Honestly? I mean, it feels selfish, but there is a large part of me that wants to march right back up the front steps and slip off my boots and let them dry… stumble right through the front door with a sheepish grin hoping nobody noticed I had left in the first place. And as nice as it is out here, truthfully the past few months has left me feeling pretty damn worthless. Like, I used to know more, but living in a house is kind of all I understand now. And maybe most selfishly, I feel like I want to go back home because I was on the run of my life in that house. I was learning to eat as much toast as I wanted fresh from our russel hobbs toaster. I nearly won the prestigious “man of the house” award in May. I teamed up with our broom to clean the house better than ever swept it before. And I feel like I might have been starting to… patch up the holes of the house… the walls that made the house what it was in the first place. Everyone was loving it, what I was doing in the house and it made me feel more validated than I ever felt in my life. And I felt like… maybe I was on my way back to winning “Man of the House” award, the thing I had promised to win on Day 1. But I…. I’ll never get that momentum back… I mean, does momentum even exist in a house that’s empty?...... Or maybe I’m just a fucking brat…
Really. I mean it seems unfair that I get to live out this Snow White woodland fantasy while Cynthia from Food Lion has to go back to her apartment every morning. I mean… am I the bad guy here? I mean, either way I look at it, I’m the bad guy in my own drunken monologue here… in the woods. I mean, maybe that just the way the world has conditioned me to think when the choice was never mind to begin with. I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t shake the feeling that the world is about to fuck me dry one more time. And for the first time ever, I have the chance to put on lipstick first. I mean… I need… I know I need to go back home. Home is still there. I have bills to pay… a mortgage to pay… But honestly what I want to do is climb back on my horse and ride off into the sunset and just say the hell with it, Maybe this little rant is all I have left. Just throwing my leg over a saddle with a broken tree. Kicking a horse i know has long been dead… and the horse just collapses… and I’m sitting back here in the same spot wondering “Why did I want to go home in the first place?” Maybe it was the eagle coming back home to her nest that made me think it… or maybe it’s because I’m out of whiskey.
Hey Everybody welcome to “Hangman gets drunk and lives in the woods” and I’ve been excelling at both of those things and it’s about time to hunker down for the night. But first I wanted to tell you about something that happened to me earlier today. So I justed climbed the big red oak that’s around the corner from my shittin’ hole and opened up my last bottle of whiskey when hear what sounded like a miniature tornado spin right past my ear. But it wasn’t a tornado obviously, it was a god damned bald eagle landing in her nest about 30 feet away from me to my left. So I took the first swig of my last bottle of whiskey and watched this eagle settle down in her nest and I couldn’t help but have the feeling that maybe I should… go home….
Maybe I should go home? I don’t know, the thought itself bloomed inside my brain like a malignant tumor; uninvited, unwelcomed, but growing just the same. I mean it would be ridiculous to go home right now. Because out here I can’t get infected. I can’t infect anyone else. I mean, we’re all in this together. It’s not just some Kumbaya platitude regugitated over a soft melody during a Subaru Forrester commercial. It’s a biological reality of an exponentially spreading infectious disease and it feels irresponsible to go back to my house. I mean even now… I would never know if I overreacted coming out here to live. But I would forever live with the pain of knowing I didn’t do enough. And to be honest, I’ve been kind of enjoying living out here. I got good company, and I know you can’t see them right now, but they’re everywhere. It’s not just people either. Two days ago I swear a raven winked at me. As I sat there and I watched this eagle start preening her tail feathers in her nest, I thought it. “Maybe I should go home?”
I don’t know.. Why did I think that in the first place? Honestly? I mean, it feels selfish, but there is a large part of me that wants to march right back up the front steps and slip off my boots and let them dry… stumble right through the front door with a sheepish grin hoping nobody noticed I had left in the first place. And as nice as it is out here, truthfully the past few months has left me feeling pretty damn worthless. Like, I used to know more, but living in a house is kind of all I understand now. And maybe most selfishly, I feel like I want to go back home because I was on the run of my life in that house. I was learning to eat as much toast as I wanted fresh from our russel hobbs toaster. I nearly won the prestigious “man of the house” award in May. I teamed up with our broom to clean the house better than ever swept it before. And I feel like I might have been starting to… patch up the holes of the house… the walls that made the house what it was in the first place. Everyone was loving it, what I was doing in the house and it made me feel more validated than I ever felt in my life. And I felt like… maybe I was on my way back to winning “Man of the House” award, the thing I had promised to win on Day 1. But I…. I’ll never get that momentum back… I mean, does momentum even exist in a house that’s empty?...... Or maybe I’m just a fucking brat…
Really. I mean it seems unfair that I get to live out this Snow White woodland fantasy while Cynthia from Food Lion has to go back to her apartment every morning. I mean… am I the bad guy here? I mean, either way I look at it, I’m the bad guy in my own drunken monologue here… in the woods. I mean, maybe that just the way the world has conditioned me to think when the choice was never mind to begin with. I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t shake the feeling that the world is about to fuck me dry one more time. And for the first time ever, I have the chance to put on lipstick first. I mean… I need… I know I need to go back home. Home is still there. I have bills to pay… a mortgage to pay… But honestly what I want to do is climb back on my horse and ride off into the sunset and just say the hell with it, Maybe this little rant is all I have left. Just throwing my leg over a saddle with a broken tree. Kicking a horse i know has long been dead… and the horse just collapses… and I’m sitting back here in the same spot wondering “Why did I want to go home in the first place?” Maybe it was the eagle coming back home to her nest that made me think it… or maybe it’s because I’m out of whiskey.
