Repeating History

[Brock Anderson]

We’re moments away from EBWF Warfare going live in Nebraska. Brock stands back stage, dressed for his match against Chris Jericho later tonight. The Breakout championship strapped around his waist, shining from the stage lighting. He stands relax, confident and sure of himself, a shit eating grin across his face.

Brock Anderson: In just a couple hours, I’ll be in arguably the biggest and toughest match in my career; just short of winning the Breakout championship. In just a couple hours, I’ll be going head to head with the eleven time world champion and a man who has won titles across the world more times than I can count on both hands. The one, the only, Chris Jericho.

He smirks as he tucks his thumbs behind the face plate of the belt.

Brock Anderson: Jericho, I appreciate the words of wisdom and hell, I appreciate the vow of confidence that you had in me that got me the opportunity to be here in Eee-new-dubya-eff. And you’re right about a lot of things…

He pauses, nodding his head.

Brock Anderson: You’ve been in this business over thirty plus years… much longer than I’ve been alive. In fact, twenty-six years and some odd months ago, about twelve hundred miles from this very arena, a pregnant Mrs. Lunde stood backstage as you took on my dad. You remember that match, Chris? If not, let me refresh your memory because it might help you tonight.. it might help you stop history repeating itself of an Anderson planting your face into the mat and putting a stop to your hope for the King of the Ring tournament. Yea… ole’ Jericho, trying to outmaneuver and outdo the tactician and BAM, Dee-dee-tee.

Brock lets out a slight chuckle before getting a serious look across his face.

Brock Anderson: Now lemme set the record straight with you, Jericho. You want to “teach” me to learn some respect? Where were you weeks ago when there were guys disrespecting my name, my hard work? Where was your influence then? Lemme guess, you were coming up with number one-thousand and five gimmick or on tour playing rock star. You weren’t anywhere to be found. And what I did to Cole wasn’t anything against him; he just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time of ME setting an example. You want to threaten me that if I try to do that to YOU, you’re gonna put me into the concrete?

He fakes a laugh - HA.

Brock Anderson: Reap what you sow. Or better yet, don’t speak up on things you know nothing about.. you’ve been back for what… three weeks? Just to have your name back in the spotlight again. Trying to outshine all the other talent but I don’t like the share that time and quite frankly, Chris, I think yours is up. So lemme tell this; tonight, when I show you I’ve got what it takes to take you on - better yet - what it takes to BEAT you. You’re not untouchable, even more so now than ever. But when I do beat you… and I will… you shake MY hand; you pass the torch and go back into hiding until the next big show so you can snake your way into the lime light somewhere down the road. But you leave the wrestling to the future; to me.. THE Horseman, the Eee-bee-dubya-eff Breakout champion, and the FUTURE King of the Ring… Brock ANDERSON.

Brock smirks widely, pulling the title from his shoulder and draping it down in one hand as he exits the scene and heads toward the ring.