[Psycho] Kill Your Darlings
Posted: Mon Sep 11, 2017 5:31 pm
Scene opens on Tommaso Ciampa. The camera is zoomed in so only his shoulders upwards are visible by his posture he is sat down but aside from that the only other thing of note is the frantic look on his face.
Ciampa: Good evening. So, it's been a while. In the last week or so I have not been paying enough attention a lot of stuff has happened in EBWF. As a shoot I came this close...
Ciampa brings his hand to the camera and indicates a small tiny distance with his thumb and index finger. He then lowers his hand back out of the shot
Ciampa: To being let go. To letting myself go. No, not let go, I was so effing close to being sanctioned. For my own good.I am a liability. Me? Can you believe that? A risk to myself and others. Who would have thought? If you answered that question "not me" then you have seriously underestimated me or overestimated my state of mind. Things happened that shouldn't have happened. Been out of synch. Wrestling was not my top priority. Guilty as charged. Of being distracted. Not guilty of anything else that may or may not have been said or written about me in the dirt sheets. So, that's how I've been. How are we all?
Ciampa takes a sip of a steaming hot beverage from a Game of Thrones mug with a House Greyjoy sigil printed on the side.
Ciampa: Enough about the yesterdays. Time to focus on today, don't time travel in your brain. Stay grounded. So, my day - got a boring one ahead. Flying north of the border. Always fun to wrestle in Canada but travel is not one of my favorite things to do. However, lucky Internet, when I get there I'm happy to say I will be fighting one of your favorites - Mr Eli Drake. You love him, you love to hate him. Often irritating. Always entertaining. Always a pleasure, occasionally a pain in the ass. Am I right? Ciampa vs Drake could easily steal the show, and that's the plan. Two Internet darlings. Good stuff. Thing is with Internet darlings - sometimes you gotta kill your darlings. Kill your Internet darlings. Psycho kill your Internet darlings. Psycho kill. Kill. Death. Pain. Eli Drake, what can I say?
Ciampa stokes his beard pretending to be deep in thought
Ciampa: Nothing. I got nothing to say to that ass that hasn't been said a million times before. I got plans for you Mr Drake, none of them pretty but when it comes to words? Nope. Nothing. See Eli, I got to warn you, I'm not in perfect ring shape right about now. Someone is going to get hurt in this match and it isn't going to be this Sicilian Psycho. You are the safe one in this match. I am a liability, unfocused. I might you know, drop you on your noggin. That's what I'll do, drop you on your skull. If they want to tell me my head is messed up then let them. When they tell me I'm cracked, that is metaphorical. After I drop you in the center of the ring, that will cause a literal crack in your head. Maybe if I hurt you just right they will start to tar you with the brush they have started to tar me with. Psycho. Not psycho killer though, no, that's just me. You don't have that killer instinct bud. I do. I have it by the gallon. It's in my blood. Not you though, no. I will help you realize that if you like, will spill your blood if you play your cards right. Actual blood. No metaphors. This is going to be less like Eli Drake and more like Eli Roth. Torture. Destroy. Psycho Kill.
An alarm goes off. Ciampa looks off camera and silences whichever device has been activated. He takes another sip of his drink.
Ciampa: Oh. I lied, I do have other plans today. The good doctor want to see me. I might take them up on that. What do you reckon? Seems like a reasonable request. Guess I will check back in later. Peace.
The scene fades out and back in.
Ciampa: Good evening. So, it's been a while. In the last week or so I have not been paying enough attention a lot of stuff has happened in EBWF. As a shoot I came this close...
Ciampa brings his hand to the camera and indicates a small tiny distance with his thumb and index finger. He then lowers his hand back out of the shot
Ciampa: To being let go. To letting myself go. No, not let go, I was so effing close to being sanctioned. For my own good.I am a liability. Me? Can you believe that? A risk to myself and others. Who would have thought? If you answered that question "not me" then you have seriously underestimated me or overestimated my state of mind. Things happened that shouldn't have happened. Been out of synch. Wrestling was not my top priority. Guilty as charged. Of being distracted. Not guilty of anything else that may or may not have been said or written about me in the dirt sheets. So, that's how I've been. How are we all?
Ciampa takes a sip of a steaming hot beverage from a Game of Thrones mug with a House Greyjoy sigil printed on the side.
Ciampa: Enough about the yesterdays. Time to focus on today, don't time travel in your brain. Stay grounded. So, my day - got a boring one ahead. Flying north of the border. Always fun to wrestle in Canada but travel is not one of my favorite things to do. However, lucky Internet, when I get there I'm happy to say I will be fighting one of your favorites - Mr Eli Drake. You love him, you love to hate him. Often irritating. Always entertaining. Always a pleasure, occasionally a pain in the ass. Am I right? Ciampa vs Drake could easily steal the show, and that's the plan. Two Internet darlings. Good stuff. Thing is with Internet darlings - sometimes you gotta kill your darlings. Kill your Internet darlings. Psycho kill your Internet darlings. Psycho kill. Kill. Death. Pain. Eli Drake, what can I say?
Ciampa stokes his beard pretending to be deep in thought
Ciampa: Nothing. I got nothing to say to that ass that hasn't been said a million times before. I got plans for you Mr Drake, none of them pretty but when it comes to words? Nope. Nothing. See Eli, I got to warn you, I'm not in perfect ring shape right about now. Someone is going to get hurt in this match and it isn't going to be this Sicilian Psycho. You are the safe one in this match. I am a liability, unfocused. I might you know, drop you on your noggin. That's what I'll do, drop you on your skull. If they want to tell me my head is messed up then let them. When they tell me I'm cracked, that is metaphorical. After I drop you in the center of the ring, that will cause a literal crack in your head. Maybe if I hurt you just right they will start to tar you with the brush they have started to tar me with. Psycho. Not psycho killer though, no, that's just me. You don't have that killer instinct bud. I do. I have it by the gallon. It's in my blood. Not you though, no. I will help you realize that if you like, will spill your blood if you play your cards right. Actual blood. No metaphors. This is going to be less like Eli Drake and more like Eli Roth. Torture. Destroy. Psycho Kill.
An alarm goes off. Ciampa looks off camera and silences whichever device has been activated. He takes another sip of his drink.
Ciampa: Oh. I lied, I do have other plans today. The good doctor want to see me. I might take them up on that. What do you reckon? Seems like a reasonable request. Guess I will check back in later. Peace.
The scene fades out and back in.
Ciampa: I reviewed the package that I put out yesterday. Sat down and had a damn good look at what I was becoming, then I had a damn good look in the mirror. I am not happy at what I saw. For one thing, I put on a few pounds. For another, I am a little... bat shit crazy. Psycho Killer?
Ciampa points at his tee.
Ciampa: This is meant to be a gimmick, not the reality. I am bigger and better than the person you saw before. I would like to apologize to EBWF staff and anyone who was negatively affected by my comments, I've taken the steps I needed to take believe, them were some large steps that I had to take. I would like to take this time to thank everyone who has been looking out for me. Not going to name any names but there are some guys and gals in the dressing room who have me back. Truly, I 'pprecite it. So, that being said I want to correct a few things. I have no intention of being reckless, or of dropping anyone on their head, well, maybe just a little but strictly professional like.
Ciampa laughs.
Ciampa: So, Eli Drake. I expect you to come prepared. I know you're not going to overlook me. I also know that despite all the bravado and bull, there is a level of respect there. That's good, treat me good and you know for sure I will do the same. You might go places on EBWF but I can't allow those places to be anywhere in front of me. Get in line Eli or I will have to put you in your place. See what I did there? As I say, I was speaking a lot of nonsense yesterday. There was one thing in my psycho babble that made a lot of sense. I was looking for inspiration from external sources, trying to let me head clear so I could really give the EBWF fans what they deserve - the best version of me, not some fruitcake. Seems though in my altered state I have spoken some sense though - killing your Internet darlings? I like that plan. Strictly professional of course. That right there might be my path to redemption and that starts at Warfare and that starts with Eli. Good luck bud, I'm sure you'll pick yourself up afterwards but it's not going to be your night. Sorry and all that.