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Staplehouse
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Topic Started: May 19 2018, 08:58 PM (37 Views)
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SaviourSelf
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May 19 2018, 08:58 PM
Post #1
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Seasoned Professional
- Posts:
- 1,671
- Group:
- Moderators
- Member
- #607
- Joined:
- March 2, 2009
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-Alex LeBlanc is sitting down in a corner booth of Staplehouse in the Old Fourth Ward section of Atlanta, Georgia. While LeBlanc has often been criticized for claiming new territories as his own, sitting here in his mother's adopted city after a move from Montreal; he sits with his mother and other members of his extended family, sharing a quick meal together with the overbearing PRW cameras trained on his every move. It would be one thing if this wasn't expected, but after a decade doing this? Alex offers them a seat and pours them a cup of coffee from the carafe on the restaurant's finished oak table.-
-The hustle and bustle of the kitchen, the noise of other patrons, the clang of knives and forks against plates; it's enough to warp your attention, but sitting before the camera in a sky-blue dress shirt, his hair shaved down into a high-and-tight fade with length on the top, the Ryan Reynolds-esque haircut demanding attention while the man before looks every bit the professional, Alex begins to speak slowly, enunciating every word and making sure that for the next five minutes, he has you in the palm of his hand.-
Alex: Silence. For the past week since I've called out Mark Graves, all I have heard is silence. And for a man who has made it a point to be boisterous and loud since reappearing out of thin air like a overwrought David Blaine magic trick, I frankly expected more.
I expected more because I figured that after being gone for so long, and after being so starved for relevancy, a need for the spotlight seemingly lingering within his heart; I figured he would take the bait and confront me, send a message back. And you know what, maybe the smoke signals didn't reach me. Maybe his carrier pigeon got lost in flight. Maybe DHL hasn't delivered the package. Maybe the response is coming.
Or maybe he's just scared because someone finally called him on his unequivocal bullshit.
-Alex takes a sip of the diet Coke before him and takes another bite of his meal before speaking up again, letting his words linger in the air, letting the message reverberate.-
Alex: The thing about all of this is that if you look at PRW's current landscape, there really is a lot of talent. Lal Singh is holding up the Internet Championship, Bane has the X-Division locked down, and Regan and Mondrad are holding up their end of the bargain when it comes to the Undisputed Championship. It can be argued that we never had more talent within our ranks than we do currently. The problem with all of that is that for all of our talent we have continued pretenders to the throne, paper lions and false royalty wanting to ascend to the crown.
I feel like it's a broken record at this point, a pointed message I deliver on end without fail at least two-three times a year, pointing my finger at a roster and shouting at them to "Be Better" like a high school teacher trying to reach a group of inner city kids on some inspirational Hallmark Channel movie. To be fair, it's become my job around these parts.
At this point, I've accepted my role within the company and I know what I am and what I have become. I'm not challenging for titles anymore unless something unexpected happens. I'm probably never going to beat out Hutton Brown for that fifth reign to put myself literally head -and-shoulders above the rest in the record books even though I know I'm better.
-LeBlanc pushes away his plate momentarily and sighs, looking at his mother, then directly at the camera.-
Alex: We're sitting in a restaurant named the "Staplehouse", and frankly? That's what I've become. I'm the staple, the lynchpin, the one constant that you can count on amidst all the half-baked returns, all the start-stop trial runs and all the bold proclamations by inferior mental midgets that never goes anywhere. Amidst all the muck and all the rain, I'm the sunshine. There's three things you can always count on in PRW; death, taxes and Alex LeBlanc being around in some capacity to be the moral compass of a company that is often bereft of it.
And as your moral compass, it bothers me when someone like Mark Graves come in trying to swing the proverbial dick about being a "Hall.Of.Famer" and then shies away from a challenge, shies away from THE challenge from the person entrusted to separate the real from the bullshit, the legitimate from the fugazi. He came and he claimed he was a "Hall of Famer', but he is response is that of a "Curtain Jerker" because he doesn't have the FUCKING BALLS to even respond to me.
That ring on his finger is being disgraced. Point blank.
-Clasping his hands together, Alex leans forward a bit and stares into the camera.-
Alex: I know my role, I accept it and I own it. I take pride in being the Gatekeeper and being the one who either legitimizes someone or showcases them as a fraud, but if someone is going to bypass that right of passage within PRW's walls? Then I have a problem with it because I could be doing more with my career.
I could be fighting Mondrad and Crowe for the title. I could be battling Bane for the X-Division and legitimizing it and elevating it to the level where it is THE must-see division within PRW. At this moment, I could look at our roster and legitimately say without pause that I am the Best Wrestler under 215 lbs, and otherwise.
But I have chosen my role. I have taken pride in my role. I own my role. I'm no longer your titular champion, but I am your watchman, I am your guardian and I am the one who policies the bullshit around here and Mark Graves is bringing his criminality of horseshit and lies to my domain and I don't fucking like it.
-Alex picks up his knife and points it at the camera, twirling it and pointing it aggressively.-
Alex: The "Hall of Fame" is to be respected. It's an institution to be revered and talked about in hallowed tones. It deserves reverence and hushed whispers. With Mark Graves it is being made to look like a joke, his claims of being a high profile Hall of Famer a complete mockery of what it means to be a member of this hallowed institution.
I take pride in being a Hall of Famer, in being the torch-bearer, the staple and the lynchpin of this company and I will not allow for someone to make a mockery of it's most time-honored tradition.
Not while I'm on watch.
-Alex tosses down the knife and it clangs on the plate, startling LeBlanc's mother. Fuming, Alex leaves us with one last message.-
Alex: So please, Mark, with sugar on top... bring your ass to Summerfest.
Bring your ass to Summerfest so I can break your fucking neck.
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- 4x PRW Undisputed Champion - 2x World Tag Team Champion - 8x Cyanide Champion - PRW Intercontinental Champion - PRW Triple Crown Champion - PRW Grand Slam Champion - PRW Hall of Famer
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