Props to Xavier
Posted: Mon Dec 13, 2021 2:14 pm
Eddie Kingston is shown sitting on a black leather sofa in the locker room area. He seems agitated and impatient as he waits for the cameraman to give him the signal to begin.
“Xavier, you call me a bully? You think I don’t know about bullying? I was an Irish Puerto Rican. I got bullied by the Puerto Ricans AND the Irish for not fitting in. I had to fight my way through school just to survive. I had to fight on the streets to get by, and I’ve had to fight every single day of my wrestling career so far, so don’t you ever call me a coward. I haven’t backed down from anyone, and I sure as hell am not backing down to a guy in a Burger King crown. You wanna go out in fronta everyone here and call yourself a king? That’s a title you have to earn, brother. You can’t just showboat and do some corny Cornette special in-ring with the local high school’s props department. I’m surprised you didn’t debut from a giant box. You say the fans deserve something fresh, but you’re out here doing the same tacky shit that Bret, Owen and Mabel were doing in the mid-90s.
You say that I think the world revolves around me. That isn’t true. If anything, it’s the total opposite. I’ve learned growing up that the world keeps on turning fine without me. What you misconstrue as egotistical or antisocial is just realism. I don’t think I’m better than anybody else, I just know that when times are at their darkest, there ain’t nobody gonna be there for me. Nobody’s got my back, so why should I go around kissing everybody’s ass. I just know that the only person I can rely on is myself, and if that comes off as being aloof or thinking I’m better than you, then hell, I’m sorry, but it’s not going to bother me if I annoy you, or I make you uncomfortable. I’m just watching my own back and not letting anybody get close enough to plunge a dagger into it.
You called yourself a professional. What kind of professional are you? A professional SUPERSTAR? A professional ENTERTAINER? Well, I don’t give a damn about any of that crap. I’m a professional WRESTLER, I’m a fighter, and I’m sick to death of all these Connecticut creeps coming on down here and walking around like they own the place, quite literally in your case. You talk about letting the fans enjoy wrestling again. Please, remind me, when did they last see you do any wrestling? You can suck up to the fans as much as you want Woods, I’m not here to entertain, I’m not here to be a clown, I’ll save that for you and your fancy dress box. I came here to fight, and that’s what I’m going to do. I only care about kicking ass and getting the W. You can do all that showy, flashy crap, but it ain’t gonna stop me punching you in the face. We’ll see if you can still play your trombone when your teeth are rammed down your throat.
Sure, you aren’t the biggest, but you say that as if big guys would faze me. I went out there last week and slapped seven shades of shit out of Samoa Joe. This week it’ll be you, f*ck it, next week bring me Hornswoggle. I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about the size of the guy in front of me, I’m an equal opportunities ass-kicker. I’ll pin you, I’ll make you tap, I’ll knock you the f*ck out, it doesn’t bother me either way as long as those suits in the office write me a big, fat check for doing it.
However it turns out, win, lose, whatever, just bring your A-game, because you’re gonna need it if you want to be able to walk out of the arena later tonight."
He signals to the cameraman that he’s done enough talking, and the feed ends.
“Xavier, you call me a bully? You think I don’t know about bullying? I was an Irish Puerto Rican. I got bullied by the Puerto Ricans AND the Irish for not fitting in. I had to fight my way through school just to survive. I had to fight on the streets to get by, and I’ve had to fight every single day of my wrestling career so far, so don’t you ever call me a coward. I haven’t backed down from anyone, and I sure as hell am not backing down to a guy in a Burger King crown. You wanna go out in fronta everyone here and call yourself a king? That’s a title you have to earn, brother. You can’t just showboat and do some corny Cornette special in-ring with the local high school’s props department. I’m surprised you didn’t debut from a giant box. You say the fans deserve something fresh, but you’re out here doing the same tacky shit that Bret, Owen and Mabel were doing in the mid-90s.
You say that I think the world revolves around me. That isn’t true. If anything, it’s the total opposite. I’ve learned growing up that the world keeps on turning fine without me. What you misconstrue as egotistical or antisocial is just realism. I don’t think I’m better than anybody else, I just know that when times are at their darkest, there ain’t nobody gonna be there for me. Nobody’s got my back, so why should I go around kissing everybody’s ass. I just know that the only person I can rely on is myself, and if that comes off as being aloof or thinking I’m better than you, then hell, I’m sorry, but it’s not going to bother me if I annoy you, or I make you uncomfortable. I’m just watching my own back and not letting anybody get close enough to plunge a dagger into it.
You called yourself a professional. What kind of professional are you? A professional SUPERSTAR? A professional ENTERTAINER? Well, I don’t give a damn about any of that crap. I’m a professional WRESTLER, I’m a fighter, and I’m sick to death of all these Connecticut creeps coming on down here and walking around like they own the place, quite literally in your case. You talk about letting the fans enjoy wrestling again. Please, remind me, when did they last see you do any wrestling? You can suck up to the fans as much as you want Woods, I’m not here to entertain, I’m not here to be a clown, I’ll save that for you and your fancy dress box. I came here to fight, and that’s what I’m going to do. I only care about kicking ass and getting the W. You can do all that showy, flashy crap, but it ain’t gonna stop me punching you in the face. We’ll see if you can still play your trombone when your teeth are rammed down your throat.
Sure, you aren’t the biggest, but you say that as if big guys would faze me. I went out there last week and slapped seven shades of shit out of Samoa Joe. This week it’ll be you, f*ck it, next week bring me Hornswoggle. I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about the size of the guy in front of me, I’m an equal opportunities ass-kicker. I’ll pin you, I’ll make you tap, I’ll knock you the f*ck out, it doesn’t bother me either way as long as those suits in the office write me a big, fat check for doing it.
However it turns out, win, lose, whatever, just bring your A-game, because you’re gonna need it if you want to be able to walk out of the arena later tonight."
He signals to the cameraman that he’s done enough talking, and the feed ends.