I Get It Now [Kayby Hale Cassidy v No One :'( ]
Nov 17, 2020 21:33:30 GMT -5
Jason Ryan and cyborg878 like this
Post by The Kayby on Nov 17, 2020 21:33:30 GMT -5
"I get it," the voice of Kayby Hale Cassidy chimes in; no charm nor whimsy in his tone, as per normal. His voice a soft singsong, calm and borderline submissive. "I had an entire promo planned out. We were in the midst of recording it, but it finally hit me. I get it." The scene opens up and we are in the en suite of a luxury hotel. A side shot of the bathtub shows Kayby Hale Cassidy's naked upper body poking out of the top. His outside hand pinches a glass of Pinot Grigio while his inside hand holds a non-Juul vape. His outside leg dangles over the rim of the tub revealing an ankle brace. The camera cuts overtop of the bathtub to show Kayby Hale Cassidy wearing peach flesh-tone bathing trunks. Over top of the crotch reads the words Your Face Here. Sitting on the counter is Taylor Made Ms. Arden Taylor holding a black shirt of some descript while wearing a horrified expression. "This is about respect. You don't feel like you're being respected, Damien, and I get that. I really do get that, Damien, because I feel like I am not being respected around here either. First off, instead of facing you I was supposed to go toe-to-toe with the North American Champion in a War of 1812 match."
The camera cuts quickly to Taylor Made Ms. Arden Taylor who says, "For those of you who don't get how clever that was, we are going to take the cheap road and explain the joke." With stern yet sarcastic face she says, "Fuck you, it was good." A very brief pause. "The War of 1812 was fought between the United States and its allies and Great Britain; including all of its colonies, predominantly, The Canadas. It lasted between 18th of June, 1812 and 17th of February, 1815 and featured a certain seventh President of the United States."
"Andrew Jackson," Kayby Hale Cassidy slowly says; the camera returning to the side angle. After a short pause he says, "She's a history major." Again he pauses to break the tangent. "Not only that Damien, but I didn't even garner any respect from you. You looked at me like a small fish in a big pond. But not only did you do that; you did this." He turns his head so we get our first good look at the left side of his face. His left eye socket is completely bruised from the Justifiable Homicide he took last week. "You have left a chip on an otherwise perfect marble statue, and for that, I will never forgive you. And this chip is not just skin deep; believe me, this is not my first black eye. No... no, to take a phrase from a certain regal wrestler; you besmirched my name last week. You come out here pretending like you know me. Telling the world that underneath the superficial there is nothing to me. Well I got pretty damn raw last week letting people in to see my vulnerability, and I'll be damned if I am disregarded by some 2008 edgelord. Do you feel like adding a couple of xX's to the beginning and ends of your dumb nicknames," Kayby Hale Cassidy says without an ounce, not an ioda, not a shred, sliver, or modicum of irony. "I digress, though. In front of the entire world you referred to my wonderful, beautiful, and incredibly talented Bambi as a vapi-" He looks away and grimaces as if about to vomit. "You called her a vap-" This time he wretches. After a few strained coughs he turns and looks to the camera; a look of pure disgust wrought across his face. "You know what you called her. And I find that quite curious because sexual attraction or not you cannot have been backstage for the last two weeks and truly believe she offers nothing stimulating or challenging. As a man that comes from the Centre of the Damn Universe there is no way you weren't at least mildly impressed by the pure breadth of knowledge on Canadian History." The camera cuts to Taylor Made Ms. Arden Taylor whose face melts into what the millennials would call a happy-cry. "You cannot look at her and see nothing of value in her. You cannot look into her eyes and not get lost in the ambition and the passion to succeed at whatever she puts her mind to." The camera cuts back to Kayby Hale Cassidy who's eyes have fallen on Taylor Made Ms. Arden Taylor. His face resists contortion as he looks like he's ready for his own happy cry. "That's why, Damien..." He trails off in an attempt to collect himself. "That's why you better start watching your back. Because I'm going to be watching every one of your matches very closely, and when you least expect it I am going plant my elbow so far into your skull they will need a surgeon to remove it."
From his far-off stare his head and eyes snap back to the camera. His face, sad just a second ago, now is ablaze with passion and hatred. "You want some respect, Damien? Fine, have your fucking respect. You think some kid that just lost a title match shouldn't get a shot at the metaphorical big dog; cool. You think the company has disrespected you because of that; go right ahead. Believe it or not, I understand your plight. You've made your message clear several times to Mister Swirly Clock, but he doesn't listen too well... not like I do. See, I get it. You thought I didn't deserve to face you last week because, in your words, I haven't done anything and have been handed a shot at the crown because the new deal likes me. Alright fine, I can accept that. What I can't accept is how you blindsided me before the match. For that I will slap you across the face so hard you won't shit for a week. And the third thing I will refuse to accept; the third thing I will never forgive you for is the blatant disregard for me this week because despite your best effort there wasn't much left of you at the end of the match. This close Damien," he says as he holds to the camera the thumb and index finger of his vape hand barely separated by an inch. "This is how close I was - despite your best effort to take me down before the match started- that's how close I was to beating you." He pauses to set in the point he is making. "When you get that close to beating the champ in a non-title match I think you earn the fucking title shot. So have your fun with the winner of Wingus verses Dingus, but I call next. You know I have so much more to give, Damien. You cannot deny how good I truly am any more than I can deny how good you are. Damien, I know deep down that speaks to the core of who you are as a competitor."
The camera changes to a wider angle. Kayby Hale Cassidy stands up in the tub, water pouring off of his Vitruvian form like the Niagara Falls. As he takes a single step out of the tub the camera cuts to a floor-level shot of wrestling boots. The camera pans up to show Kayby Hale Cassidy and Taylor Made Ms. Arden Taylor dressed to compete. "You want your respect, Damien -or can you and I stop being petty for a second, Damon. You are the longest reigning World Heavyweight Champion for a reason, and it isn't hard to solve for why. You're damn good in a way that not many people are. You adapt on the fly seamlessly and have a knowledge base that convinces me you were trained by Textbook Tyson Dux in Windsor, or Lance Storm in Calgary. I got rushed to the front of the line last week, but be honest with yourself, Damon. You and I are cut from the same cloth, so you know if anyone here can beat you, it's me. You want your respect, Damon? Fine." He reaches a hand out to Taylor Made Ms. Arden Taylor. She hands him a rolled up black tee-shirt. "We were literally in the middle of making a teaser for the new Kayby Hale Cassidy shirt formerly-available at ProWrestlingTees.com when we scrapped it all and made what you've been watching." He unrolled the tee-shirt and shows it to the camera, it reads Damon Warrens Has Erectile Dysfunction. He bunches it up and tosses it off-camera. "But like I said, let's ditch the pettiness. How about instead of that you and I go beat the ever-loving piss out of each other." The pair walk passed the camera as the sound of their music hits in the background.
The camera cuts quickly to Taylor Made Ms. Arden Taylor who says, "For those of you who don't get how clever that was, we are going to take the cheap road and explain the joke." With stern yet sarcastic face she says, "Fuck you, it was good." A very brief pause. "The War of 1812 was fought between the United States and its allies and Great Britain; including all of its colonies, predominantly, The Canadas. It lasted between 18th of June, 1812 and 17th of February, 1815 and featured a certain seventh President of the United States."
"Andrew Jackson," Kayby Hale Cassidy slowly says; the camera returning to the side angle. After a short pause he says, "She's a history major." Again he pauses to break the tangent. "Not only that Damien, but I didn't even garner any respect from you. You looked at me like a small fish in a big pond. But not only did you do that; you did this." He turns his head so we get our first good look at the left side of his face. His left eye socket is completely bruised from the Justifiable Homicide he took last week. "You have left a chip on an otherwise perfect marble statue, and for that, I will never forgive you. And this chip is not just skin deep; believe me, this is not my first black eye. No... no, to take a phrase from a certain regal wrestler; you besmirched my name last week. You come out here pretending like you know me. Telling the world that underneath the superficial there is nothing to me. Well I got pretty damn raw last week letting people in to see my vulnerability, and I'll be damned if I am disregarded by some 2008 edgelord. Do you feel like adding a couple of xX's to the beginning and ends of your dumb nicknames," Kayby Hale Cassidy says without an ounce, not an ioda, not a shred, sliver, or modicum of irony. "I digress, though. In front of the entire world you referred to my wonderful, beautiful, and incredibly talented Bambi as a vapi-" He looks away and grimaces as if about to vomit. "You called her a vap-" This time he wretches. After a few strained coughs he turns and looks to the camera; a look of pure disgust wrought across his face. "You know what you called her. And I find that quite curious because sexual attraction or not you cannot have been backstage for the last two weeks and truly believe she offers nothing stimulating or challenging. As a man that comes from the Centre of the Damn Universe there is no way you weren't at least mildly impressed by the pure breadth of knowledge on Canadian History." The camera cuts to Taylor Made Ms. Arden Taylor whose face melts into what the millennials would call a happy-cry. "You cannot look at her and see nothing of value in her. You cannot look into her eyes and not get lost in the ambition and the passion to succeed at whatever she puts her mind to." The camera cuts back to Kayby Hale Cassidy who's eyes have fallen on Taylor Made Ms. Arden Taylor. His face resists contortion as he looks like he's ready for his own happy cry. "That's why, Damien..." He trails off in an attempt to collect himself. "That's why you better start watching your back. Because I'm going to be watching every one of your matches very closely, and when you least expect it I am going plant my elbow so far into your skull they will need a surgeon to remove it."
From his far-off stare his head and eyes snap back to the camera. His face, sad just a second ago, now is ablaze with passion and hatred. "You want some respect, Damien? Fine, have your fucking respect. You think some kid that just lost a title match shouldn't get a shot at the metaphorical big dog; cool. You think the company has disrespected you because of that; go right ahead. Believe it or not, I understand your plight. You've made your message clear several times to Mister Swirly Clock, but he doesn't listen too well... not like I do. See, I get it. You thought I didn't deserve to face you last week because, in your words, I haven't done anything and have been handed a shot at the crown because the new deal likes me. Alright fine, I can accept that. What I can't accept is how you blindsided me before the match. For that I will slap you across the face so hard you won't shit for a week. And the third thing I will refuse to accept; the third thing I will never forgive you for is the blatant disregard for me this week because despite your best effort there wasn't much left of you at the end of the match. This close Damien," he says as he holds to the camera the thumb and index finger of his vape hand barely separated by an inch. "This is how close I was - despite your best effort to take me down before the match started- that's how close I was to beating you." He pauses to set in the point he is making. "When you get that close to beating the champ in a non-title match I think you earn the fucking title shot. So have your fun with the winner of Wingus verses Dingus, but I call next. You know I have so much more to give, Damien. You cannot deny how good I truly am any more than I can deny how good you are. Damien, I know deep down that speaks to the core of who you are as a competitor."
The camera changes to a wider angle. Kayby Hale Cassidy stands up in the tub, water pouring off of his Vitruvian form like the Niagara Falls. As he takes a single step out of the tub the camera cuts to a floor-level shot of wrestling boots. The camera pans up to show Kayby Hale Cassidy and Taylor Made Ms. Arden Taylor dressed to compete. "You want your respect, Damien -or can you and I stop being petty for a second, Damon. You are the longest reigning World Heavyweight Champion for a reason, and it isn't hard to solve for why. You're damn good in a way that not many people are. You adapt on the fly seamlessly and have a knowledge base that convinces me you were trained by Textbook Tyson Dux in Windsor, or Lance Storm in Calgary. I got rushed to the front of the line last week, but be honest with yourself, Damon. You and I are cut from the same cloth, so you know if anyone here can beat you, it's me. You want your respect, Damon? Fine." He reaches a hand out to Taylor Made Ms. Arden Taylor. She hands him a rolled up black tee-shirt. "We were literally in the middle of making a teaser for the new Kayby Hale Cassidy shirt formerly-available at ProWrestlingTees.com when we scrapped it all and made what you've been watching." He unrolled the tee-shirt and shows it to the camera, it reads Damon Warrens Has Erectile Dysfunction. He bunches it up and tosses it off-camera. "But like I said, let's ditch the pettiness. How about instead of that you and I go beat the ever-loving piss out of each other." The pair walk passed the camera as the sound of their music hits in the background.
