Duff
08-31-2010, 03:20 PM
The scene opens rather simply to Jamie Parker sitting at a desk in a dark navy suit with an open neck shirt. The view is almost reminiscent of the President of the United States sitting behind his desk in the oval office, except it is missing the obvious trappings of power and Americana. Through the window directly behind Parker is an uninterrupted view of green fields leading onto a small copse of trees. The desk is bare save for a photo frame turned towards Parker so that the cameras cannot pick up the photo inside the frame. Parker looks flittingly out at the vista behind him and brushes the shoulders of his suit, as if unaware that filming has commenced. He turns and faces the camera before releasing a long sigh that conveys both anguish and uncertainty before he begins to speak
Right now, I’d hazard a guess that each and every person associated with EWE is either wondering who the hell I am, or what the hell I’m doing here. Some may even be wondering both.
Allow me to address the two questions in order. Firstly, my name is Jamie Parker. Secondly, the time isn’t right to announce my intentions to anyone. Those of you who may have had knowledge of me in WPW will undoubtedly now be thinking that my glib answers indicate that I’m still the same guy I was when I disappeared from that federation without trace. I can assure you that nothing could be further from the truth.
Parker takes a glance down at the photo on his desk and a brief smile flickers across his lips before passing as if it had never appeared.
You see, so much has changed that I’m still having trouble factoring it all in myself. To attempt to explain it all to you guys would be to do an injustice to your intelligence and your commitment to EWE. I do have intentions in EWE, it would seem a tad ridiculous to just rock up in this federation with no sense of purpose or no preordained plan. Admittedly, my plan has been thrown off course somewhat by a man with who I have a bit of history. James Moriarty Cassius has decided that if I’m worthy of a contract with EWE, then I should be competing in the ring. Emotionally, I’m probably not quite up to that. Physically, I’m about a million miles off.
Of course, it doesn’t help that I’ll be squaring up against, let’s be honest here, formidable opponents. The current Tag Team Champions, one of whom also holds the belt that will be on the line in this match. A belt, I might add, that I have no interest whatsoever in winning. To do so would merely serve to further derail my plan. Of course, I won’t be entering this arena of battle on my own, alongside me I will have JMC’s latest lacky, or protégé as I’m certain he would prefer to be addressed as. Of course, his actions last week lead me to believe that he has the physical, if not the mental, strength to act of his own accord, but until such time that he is no longer indebted to James, until such time that is able to cut the financial ties that bind him to his lord and master, he will be forever cast in the shadow of the Prince of Cats. Then, of course, we have another of Cassius’s unpolished turds involved in the match as Justin Dreamer gets to make the three count that will decide the outcome. Anyway, listen to me whittling on about stuff that you already know. I’m afraid that’s a rather bad habit of mine, and one I plan to address when I am ready to reveal my true intentions.
Parker once again sighs the same sigh that he did before commencing speaking, this time accompanying it with a rub of his eyes, before moving his hands to run his forehead and then his temples. Although he is delivering his words confidently, his eyes betray the uncertainty of what he is saying, of what he is really undertaking.
I realise that I’ve talked quite a lot today without really saying anything at all, and for that I must apologise. It was never my intention to lead the fans on such a merry dance, but as I have already alluded to, I am not quite ready to reveal my real purpose, my real reasons for coming back to the squared circle and for choosing EWE as the vehicle for my return.
To those who already know me, you may speculate that not a lot has changed with Jamie Parker; that I’m still the same self centred, arrogant ego-maniac that once graced the rings and arenas of WPW. The same guy that is as reliable as a sheet of toilet paper for mopping up an ocean. It’s pretty damn indicative of our booker’s thoughts as he labelled me the Macbeth of his production, the power hungry king who sold his soul for his chance to reign, only to finally be undone by the demons brought on by his lust for control. By all accounts, that would be an extremely accurate assessment of the man I once was. For all that the guys in the locker room know, I may still be that man. What are my opponents to make of my return? Can either man be sure that I’m not secretly gunning for them? That they aren’t the sole reason I returned from exile? I have a history with both men, a history that they both know about and of which I feel no need to bore you with the details. I even have a history with Justin Dreamer. Cole is, of course, an unknown entity but I have seen enough of him in my time observing EWE to know that he poses no threat to me until the bell rings at the end of the match. Nobody knows why I’m here, nobody knows what is driving me and nobody knows whether they should be worried or not.
You see, that’s the beauty of this situation. Murph and Dust may hold the titles, but I hold all the aces.
Parker once again smiles, but this time it is a very different smile, lasting significantly longer and conveying a very different meaning. His previous uncertainty seems to have totally evaporated as he slowly rises from his desk, lifts the photo and walks to a wall adorned by a single picture which he moves to one side to reveal a wall-safe into which he places the picture, before gazing up at the camera.
Sorry, but that’s something else that will have to wait for another day.
Right now, I’d hazard a guess that each and every person associated with EWE is either wondering who the hell I am, or what the hell I’m doing here. Some may even be wondering both.
Allow me to address the two questions in order. Firstly, my name is Jamie Parker. Secondly, the time isn’t right to announce my intentions to anyone. Those of you who may have had knowledge of me in WPW will undoubtedly now be thinking that my glib answers indicate that I’m still the same guy I was when I disappeared from that federation without trace. I can assure you that nothing could be further from the truth.
Parker takes a glance down at the photo on his desk and a brief smile flickers across his lips before passing as if it had never appeared.
You see, so much has changed that I’m still having trouble factoring it all in myself. To attempt to explain it all to you guys would be to do an injustice to your intelligence and your commitment to EWE. I do have intentions in EWE, it would seem a tad ridiculous to just rock up in this federation with no sense of purpose or no preordained plan. Admittedly, my plan has been thrown off course somewhat by a man with who I have a bit of history. James Moriarty Cassius has decided that if I’m worthy of a contract with EWE, then I should be competing in the ring. Emotionally, I’m probably not quite up to that. Physically, I’m about a million miles off.
Of course, it doesn’t help that I’ll be squaring up against, let’s be honest here, formidable opponents. The current Tag Team Champions, one of whom also holds the belt that will be on the line in this match. A belt, I might add, that I have no interest whatsoever in winning. To do so would merely serve to further derail my plan. Of course, I won’t be entering this arena of battle on my own, alongside me I will have JMC’s latest lacky, or protégé as I’m certain he would prefer to be addressed as. Of course, his actions last week lead me to believe that he has the physical, if not the mental, strength to act of his own accord, but until such time that he is no longer indebted to James, until such time that is able to cut the financial ties that bind him to his lord and master, he will be forever cast in the shadow of the Prince of Cats. Then, of course, we have another of Cassius’s unpolished turds involved in the match as Justin Dreamer gets to make the three count that will decide the outcome. Anyway, listen to me whittling on about stuff that you already know. I’m afraid that’s a rather bad habit of mine, and one I plan to address when I am ready to reveal my true intentions.
Parker once again sighs the same sigh that he did before commencing speaking, this time accompanying it with a rub of his eyes, before moving his hands to run his forehead and then his temples. Although he is delivering his words confidently, his eyes betray the uncertainty of what he is saying, of what he is really undertaking.
I realise that I’ve talked quite a lot today without really saying anything at all, and for that I must apologise. It was never my intention to lead the fans on such a merry dance, but as I have already alluded to, I am not quite ready to reveal my real purpose, my real reasons for coming back to the squared circle and for choosing EWE as the vehicle for my return.
To those who already know me, you may speculate that not a lot has changed with Jamie Parker; that I’m still the same self centred, arrogant ego-maniac that once graced the rings and arenas of WPW. The same guy that is as reliable as a sheet of toilet paper for mopping up an ocean. It’s pretty damn indicative of our booker’s thoughts as he labelled me the Macbeth of his production, the power hungry king who sold his soul for his chance to reign, only to finally be undone by the demons brought on by his lust for control. By all accounts, that would be an extremely accurate assessment of the man I once was. For all that the guys in the locker room know, I may still be that man. What are my opponents to make of my return? Can either man be sure that I’m not secretly gunning for them? That they aren’t the sole reason I returned from exile? I have a history with both men, a history that they both know about and of which I feel no need to bore you with the details. I even have a history with Justin Dreamer. Cole is, of course, an unknown entity but I have seen enough of him in my time observing EWE to know that he poses no threat to me until the bell rings at the end of the match. Nobody knows why I’m here, nobody knows what is driving me and nobody knows whether they should be worried or not.
You see, that’s the beauty of this situation. Murph and Dust may hold the titles, but I hold all the aces.
Parker once again smiles, but this time it is a very different smile, lasting significantly longer and conveying a very different meaning. His previous uncertainty seems to have totally evaporated as he slowly rises from his desk, lifts the photo and walks to a wall adorned by a single picture which he moves to one side to reveal a wall-safe into which he places the picture, before gazing up at the camera.
Sorry, but that’s something else that will have to wait for another day.