Post by Seth Moore on Aug 18, 2013 8:12:46 GMT -5
With the lights on bright and the camera ready to roll I took a moment to visualize all the amazing things that were about to start unravelling right before my very eyes.
In just seconds I was going to delight my adoring public with the delicious thoughts that poured from my brain and rained down on them like one of R Kelly's golden showers.
After that was taken care of it was a short wait until I finally got to do what I do best; beat seven shades of shit out of a couple of jerk bags and look good doing it.
This would continue for sometime until I was declared King of Canada and married to Celine Dion. We would have 17 children and live happily in a gingerbread house somewhere outside Manitoba with a pet unicorn that shit rainbows. Or something like that.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the great white north allow me to introduce to you the man who is going to be delivering you high quality wrestling at competitive prices. A man who has travelled the world to hone his skills and master his craft. A man that Forbes magazine once referred to as 'a blight on the wrestling industry, and society in general'. Ladies and gentlemen; Seth Moore!"
Without further hesitation I stepped out into the shot of the camera and the rest, as they say, is history.
"History. The wrestling business is all about history. Who beat him, who he beat, where did he beat them, when did he beat them, why did he beat him, who was there when he did it, why did they not do anything to stop him and so on and so forth. History is the reason we do what we do. It's the reason we get up in the morning and train and say our prayers and inject steroids into our genitals... Well, you get the idea."
Way to go Seth. 30 seconds in and you're already making genital references. Poor Canada.
"More often than not, history goes hand and hand with opportunity. The guys who are remembered in history are usually the ones who seized their opportunities. Sometimes when life gives you lemons you can make lemonade. Other times you paper cut the webbing in between your toes and use the juice to bathe it. Stopping only to exfoliate the tender skin with some salt. That's what I did last week."
Actually I think Leon Stone might be more irritating than a paper cut.
"The only thing that hurt more than losing in 3 seconds, was the fact that it was to my WARPED compatriot Leon Stone. Something that I had no doubt in expecting the whole company to hear about for weeks. But let's not digress and shamelessly plug. Leon, I'm not going to lie to you, you got absolutely 100% lucky last week. I'm just glad that Canadians haven't discovered the Internet yet or people might have actually heard about what happened. I can promise you that when we have the chance for a rematch I will not take my eyes off of you for a second, and I will make sure that it is me who embarrasses you."
Take that in your face, like a lady woman on vacation with Mandingo.
"This week I plan on extracting a little bit of vengeance. Another three way match; which if last week is anything to go by will just be a regular 1 on 1 match, and who says Canadians are slow and can't count, eh?"
Maybe not the best way to get myself over, but fuck them. If they didn't want to be insulted as a race they should've learned how to be hostile like everybody else.
"Greyson Blaze, whose name sounds like a fucking forest fire, and Eric Steel. Two men who I know absolutely nothing about. Apart from finding the name generator they used on google, which was set to 'Superhero' and 'Wrestler' there really wasn't much I could dig up on these two. In fact I don't actually know if they have ever done anything with their lives; ever. They certainly haven't jobbed to as many stars as me, or embarrassed as many jackass posers as me, or even flossed their teeth as many times as I have."
If my counting was anything to go by, which it probably wasn't, I had flossed every day for the past 15 and a half years. Seth Moore Fact #181.
"Yeah it pretty much looks like I am up against two more cookie cutter Leon Stone-esque pieces of shit. But that's fine by me. You see I don't care who you are. Where you're from. What you did. As long as you love me..."
Whoever bet me I couldn't work the Backstreet Boys into my promo, you were wrong!
"I mean, as long as you tap the fuck out when I get my hands around you and chicken wing you like fuck."
Much better.
"And now for my final thought. When it comes down to it, when three people fight there can only be one winner. But does anybody really win through conflict? Maybe Greystone Blaze and Eric Steel should learn that violence is not the answer and just move on with their lives. Settle into a regular routine, find a wife, have kids, get divorced, fight for custody, lose custody, find a girlfriend, get remarried, get another divorce, have a mid life crisis and build a boat with Tim Robbins. That's all we have time for tonight. Until next time; take care of yourself and each other."
If the crowd didn't give me at least one 'Jerry' chant come show time then Canada was officially the worst country on earth. Even worse than those ones where you can't drink or toke or get into all kinds of misunderstandings with customs officials because of the dead hooker in your... Never mind.
See you ring side!
In just seconds I was going to delight my adoring public with the delicious thoughts that poured from my brain and rained down on them like one of R Kelly's golden showers.
After that was taken care of it was a short wait until I finally got to do what I do best; beat seven shades of shit out of a couple of jerk bags and look good doing it.
This would continue for sometime until I was declared King of Canada and married to Celine Dion. We would have 17 children and live happily in a gingerbread house somewhere outside Manitoba with a pet unicorn that shit rainbows. Or something like that.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the great white north allow me to introduce to you the man who is going to be delivering you high quality wrestling at competitive prices. A man who has travelled the world to hone his skills and master his craft. A man that Forbes magazine once referred to as 'a blight on the wrestling industry, and society in general'. Ladies and gentlemen; Seth Moore!"
Without further hesitation I stepped out into the shot of the camera and the rest, as they say, is history.
"History. The wrestling business is all about history. Who beat him, who he beat, where did he beat them, when did he beat them, why did he beat him, who was there when he did it, why did they not do anything to stop him and so on and so forth. History is the reason we do what we do. It's the reason we get up in the morning and train and say our prayers and inject steroids into our genitals... Well, you get the idea."
Way to go Seth. 30 seconds in and you're already making genital references. Poor Canada.
"More often than not, history goes hand and hand with opportunity. The guys who are remembered in history are usually the ones who seized their opportunities. Sometimes when life gives you lemons you can make lemonade. Other times you paper cut the webbing in between your toes and use the juice to bathe it. Stopping only to exfoliate the tender skin with some salt. That's what I did last week."
Actually I think Leon Stone might be more irritating than a paper cut.
"The only thing that hurt more than losing in 3 seconds, was the fact that it was to my WARPED compatriot Leon Stone. Something that I had no doubt in expecting the whole company to hear about for weeks. But let's not digress and shamelessly plug. Leon, I'm not going to lie to you, you got absolutely 100% lucky last week. I'm just glad that Canadians haven't discovered the Internet yet or people might have actually heard about what happened. I can promise you that when we have the chance for a rematch I will not take my eyes off of you for a second, and I will make sure that it is me who embarrasses you."
Take that in your face, like a lady woman on vacation with Mandingo.
"This week I plan on extracting a little bit of vengeance. Another three way match; which if last week is anything to go by will just be a regular 1 on 1 match, and who says Canadians are slow and can't count, eh?"
Maybe not the best way to get myself over, but fuck them. If they didn't want to be insulted as a race they should've learned how to be hostile like everybody else.
"Greyson Blaze, whose name sounds like a fucking forest fire, and Eric Steel. Two men who I know absolutely nothing about. Apart from finding the name generator they used on google, which was set to 'Superhero' and 'Wrestler' there really wasn't much I could dig up on these two. In fact I don't actually know if they have ever done anything with their lives; ever. They certainly haven't jobbed to as many stars as me, or embarrassed as many jackass posers as me, or even flossed their teeth as many times as I have."
If my counting was anything to go by, which it probably wasn't, I had flossed every day for the past 15 and a half years. Seth Moore Fact #181.
"Yeah it pretty much looks like I am up against two more cookie cutter Leon Stone-esque pieces of shit. But that's fine by me. You see I don't care who you are. Where you're from. What you did. As long as you love me..."
Whoever bet me I couldn't work the Backstreet Boys into my promo, you were wrong!
"I mean, as long as you tap the fuck out when I get my hands around you and chicken wing you like fuck."
Much better.
"And now for my final thought. When it comes down to it, when three people fight there can only be one winner. But does anybody really win through conflict? Maybe Greystone Blaze and Eric Steel should learn that violence is not the answer and just move on with their lives. Settle into a regular routine, find a wife, have kids, get divorced, fight for custody, lose custody, find a girlfriend, get remarried, get another divorce, have a mid life crisis and build a boat with Tim Robbins. That's all we have time for tonight. Until next time; take care of yourself and each other."
If the crowd didn't give me at least one 'Jerry' chant come show time then Canada was officially the worst country on earth. Even worse than those ones where you can't drink or toke or get into all kinds of misunderstandings with customs officials because of the dead hooker in your... Never mind.
See you ring side!
