Tim Patrick
 Location: New Jersey, USA
Age: 26
Number of posts: 26
 |  Subject: Alone, in the ring Mon Jan 24, 2011 11:31 pm | |
| Sunday, January 23, 2011
San Fransisco Bay
Alcatraz Prison
2:00AM
The Ring
Tim Patrick sits alone in the ring that's been set up in the middle of the prison. The FTW ring crew set it up hours ago, and the only people left in the building are Tim Patrick and the film crew that has been following him around. He sits in the middle of the ring, with the cages hanging over him, surrounded by lit candles.
Tim Patrick: So it all comes down to this, Corey. You and me. Later on tonight, this building will be full of blood thirsty fans who want to see you and I rip each other apart. They'll get their wish. But their wish is also my wish. Corey, you are about to partake in a war. I know for a fact that you see our match as an easy walk-through. That I'll job to you and get my ass beat without taking you to task. I've fought bigger and better men than you, and I've won. You've shown your ignorance again. You called me a terrorist. There's an old Irish folk song that sings about an Irish rebel being called a terrorist by un-loyal assholes like you, Corey. The lyrics go:
And you dare to call me a terrorist
while you looked down your gun
When I think of all the deeds that you had done
You had plundered many nations divided many lands
You had terrorized their peoples you ruled with an iron hand.
And you brought this reign of terror to my land
Myself and the company I ran with in Northern Ireland never went after the British people. The military were always the ones we fought with. If I'm a terrorist, so is anybody else who has ever protected their country in war. Show some passing respect for your ancestors. You used to go by the nickname "The Irish Hand Grenade", it's stunning that a person who used that nickname doesn't know shit about Ireland. The last time I was in a prison was in Belfast, and I was beaten savagely by a group of men. I've stayed in Alcatraz for a number of days now just trying to get my head right. I'm thinking better and clearer now than when Sister Holy Crap was alive to help me. I guess in her death, a live was born....make that, re-born. The "Irish Car Bomb" is alive and well, and I'm better than ever.
The latest excuse for your past actions is that you have a mental disorder. Because I called you out on trying to threaten and hurt Ashley, I must hate people with mental disorders. Another old heel wrestler trick. What are you going to do next, extend your hand in the ring tonight as if you're going to shake my hand and then blindside me? Are you going to throw powder in my eyes? Are you going to pull brass knuckles out of your tights and knock me out? Are you going to claim to the referee that I pulled your hair or held your tights as I was pinning you? What's next, Corey? What fucking excuse will you have when I knock you out with my Detonator kick? As I said before, bring a pillow.
I am not a stepping stone for greater things for you, Corey. I deserve to be in that ring with you, and win or lose I'll prove to you that I'm not a push over. That I am not somebody to piss off. You should have known better not to fight a man who has nothing left to lose, because I have nothing left to lose. How are you going to beat a man who has nothing left to lose?
~~Scene Fades~~
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