Post by Marc Polo on Nov 8, 2011 13:27:13 GMT -3
The scene opens to a massive party taking place in a hotel bar centre. After the view gradually builds a path between many people drinking, dancing erotically and others doing drugs in the far corners of the room, we stumble across Marc Polo, who’s relaxing in a booth away from the action. We take a seat across from him to get a better recording.
“Yall know who the fuck I am. But I don’t know who the fuck you are, Frank Musso. Correction, I know who you think you is. You be believing I’m some sort of steppingstone. You talk about this being the first step to a thousand long journey, but the facts tell differently. Lemme hit yo punk ass up with some knowledge, Musso.
I hear you been training for a career in Mixed Martial Arts. That be a cool thing to do except you punked out like a little bitch. Wanna know how I know you punked out like a little bitch? You talk about being known as one of the most challenging and hard dudes the planet ever gave birth to. Ni**a, reason you didn’t go into MMA is out of fear of getting broke, rocked and catching cauliflower ear. So instead you join professional wrestling because, ‘it was your true passion’ motherfucker if it was your ‘true passion’ you would have trained for it from the get go instead of picking it as a backup option, bitch. I’m pretty pissed you’d even try to disregard my talents, my ability as something weak because I’ve been doing this since day one. I’ve always known I wanted to be the best there is, was and ever will be in a professional wrestling ring, but you? You have difficulty even believing in yourself. You need punk ass bitches to encourage you to continue, stroke your puny dick and say, “you have tons of talent! You have what it takes!”
N***a I’ve always known I got what it takes. And I’ve proven it, too. This week is no different, Musso. I’m rocking you like a fucking baby crib and putting you to sleep. I’m disfiguring your “I’m trying too hard to look super cool by being emotionless” face, and next week, you finna apologize for talking all this bullshit. Don’t worry, it happens all the time. Everyone pays for acting so stupidly.
I can already tell by your choice of words, you're unstable. Incapable of coming into this match with a winning mindset. You’re focusing too much on merely trying to keep your job. Again, don’t even trip, dawg. I’ll make sure my n***as Logan and Steel keep your pathetic ass. ‘Cause, sure, after I embarrass you, no doubt Logan’s finna look back on his decision and go, “why did I hire this useless fuck?” Because that’s what I do. I take suppose ‘talent’ and drop them on their fucking heads. I remind them in comparison, they’re merely developmental tools to further n***as like me who actually got the spotlight; who actually got these people wanting to see what the fuck I’m thinking, doing and saying every day!
Ever since I joined International Championship Wrestling, my twitter be blowing up with people saying, “oh my lord, Polo, how did you get so fine?” and “What’s your workout schedule like? I wanna be as ripped as you!” Yeah, n***a get back when you even have an ounce of respect, punk bitch. Wrestling to collect paychecks is by far the weakest of all, because it tells the world you don’t give a shit about winning. You have no real intentions on winning the World Championship like I do. Again, that’s why you’re unfit to be the World’s champion. You don’t mind getting an ass whopping for not being the “next big thing”. You just wanna put food in your pussy gut. Which is why I am pleased to inform you losers still get paid. Hell, Logan won’t fire you just for being a bitch. However it’ll affect the way you get booked. ‘Cause after this match, you’ll no longer be qualified. You’ll be far below deck and get stuck cleaning the floors I shit on from the top of this motherfucking ship.
I’m here to prove Marc Polo is the fucking captain. I’m a boss in the ring. My murder technique is excellent, and I got the power. Yall are here to witness me capture the throne. Yall finna be envious fuckers, no doubt about it. But you got nobody to blame except yourselves for not striving to be like me. I tell ya what I’m gonna do, Musso. I laid out my game plan for you to defend yourself against. But as the world will come to find out, it’s useless. You just not on my level, dawg. You just a punk ass bitch too dumb to know he picked the wrong profession yet again.
So you run your damn mouth, hacker. Try to convince my loyalists that you’re destiny’s plan. Some may give in and support you. It’s a possibility. But after the dust settles, the outcome will provide all the proof they need to know Marc Polo is impossible. The things I’mma do is that of myth. The accomplishments ICW will brand me with is what Legends are founded on. For everything I am, motherfucker, is extraordinary. That’s the difference. It’s what sets me a part from everyone else. It’s thoughts like these that inaugurate kings.”
His toothy grin signals the end of his speech. As he leans back, a woman appears from beneath the table wiping her mouth. He glares at her with a stern look. “Did I say you were finished?” She shook her head and went back beneath the table to do more of the giving. Again, he looks back at us arrogantly and shows the camera a thumbs up to end the promotional piece.
“Yall know who the fuck I am. But I don’t know who the fuck you are, Frank Musso. Correction, I know who you think you is. You be believing I’m some sort of steppingstone. You talk about this being the first step to a thousand long journey, but the facts tell differently. Lemme hit yo punk ass up with some knowledge, Musso.
I hear you been training for a career in Mixed Martial Arts. That be a cool thing to do except you punked out like a little bitch. Wanna know how I know you punked out like a little bitch? You talk about being known as one of the most challenging and hard dudes the planet ever gave birth to. Ni**a, reason you didn’t go into MMA is out of fear of getting broke, rocked and catching cauliflower ear. So instead you join professional wrestling because, ‘it was your true passion’ motherfucker if it was your ‘true passion’ you would have trained for it from the get go instead of picking it as a backup option, bitch. I’m pretty pissed you’d even try to disregard my talents, my ability as something weak because I’ve been doing this since day one. I’ve always known I wanted to be the best there is, was and ever will be in a professional wrestling ring, but you? You have difficulty even believing in yourself. You need punk ass bitches to encourage you to continue, stroke your puny dick and say, “you have tons of talent! You have what it takes!”
N***a I’ve always known I got what it takes. And I’ve proven it, too. This week is no different, Musso. I’m rocking you like a fucking baby crib and putting you to sleep. I’m disfiguring your “I’m trying too hard to look super cool by being emotionless” face, and next week, you finna apologize for talking all this bullshit. Don’t worry, it happens all the time. Everyone pays for acting so stupidly.
I can already tell by your choice of words, you're unstable. Incapable of coming into this match with a winning mindset. You’re focusing too much on merely trying to keep your job. Again, don’t even trip, dawg. I’ll make sure my n***as Logan and Steel keep your pathetic ass. ‘Cause, sure, after I embarrass you, no doubt Logan’s finna look back on his decision and go, “why did I hire this useless fuck?” Because that’s what I do. I take suppose ‘talent’ and drop them on their fucking heads. I remind them in comparison, they’re merely developmental tools to further n***as like me who actually got the spotlight; who actually got these people wanting to see what the fuck I’m thinking, doing and saying every day!
Ever since I joined International Championship Wrestling, my twitter be blowing up with people saying, “oh my lord, Polo, how did you get so fine?” and “What’s your workout schedule like? I wanna be as ripped as you!” Yeah, n***a get back when you even have an ounce of respect, punk bitch. Wrestling to collect paychecks is by far the weakest of all, because it tells the world you don’t give a shit about winning. You have no real intentions on winning the World Championship like I do. Again, that’s why you’re unfit to be the World’s champion. You don’t mind getting an ass whopping for not being the “next big thing”. You just wanna put food in your pussy gut. Which is why I am pleased to inform you losers still get paid. Hell, Logan won’t fire you just for being a bitch. However it’ll affect the way you get booked. ‘Cause after this match, you’ll no longer be qualified. You’ll be far below deck and get stuck cleaning the floors I shit on from the top of this motherfucking ship.
I’m here to prove Marc Polo is the fucking captain. I’m a boss in the ring. My murder technique is excellent, and I got the power. Yall are here to witness me capture the throne. Yall finna be envious fuckers, no doubt about it. But you got nobody to blame except yourselves for not striving to be like me. I tell ya what I’m gonna do, Musso. I laid out my game plan for you to defend yourself against. But as the world will come to find out, it’s useless. You just not on my level, dawg. You just a punk ass bitch too dumb to know he picked the wrong profession yet again.
So you run your damn mouth, hacker. Try to convince my loyalists that you’re destiny’s plan. Some may give in and support you. It’s a possibility. But after the dust settles, the outcome will provide all the proof they need to know Marc Polo is impossible. The things I’mma do is that of myth. The accomplishments ICW will brand me with is what Legends are founded on. For everything I am, motherfucker, is extraordinary. That’s the difference. It’s what sets me a part from everyone else. It’s thoughts like these that inaugurate kings.”
His toothy grin signals the end of his speech. As he leans back, a woman appears from beneath the table wiping her mouth. He glares at her with a stern look. “Did I say you were finished?” She shook her head and went back beneath the table to do more of the giving. Again, he looks back at us arrogantly and shows the camera a thumbs up to end the promotional piece.
