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Crimson Lord address All or Nothing 2015

Locker Room Backstage 10:02pm

“Solitude has soft, silky hands, but with strong fingers it grasps the heart and makes it ache with sorrow.”

Crimson Lord sits in the locker room on the bench.  His elbows resting against his thighs. Staring down at the tape he wrapped his hands in. All in preparation  for the rumble earlier in the evening. His hair covers his face as he stares blankly at his hands.

Crimson Lord: Why am I still doing this?  I left this business a long time ago.  My thoughts of why I left have left me long ago.  I went out there with everything to gain and what happened I came out with nothing!

He slowly starts to unwrap his right hand of the tape surrounding it.

Crimson Lord:  Maybe the people in the back are right.  Maybe I am a old relic trying to make myself known once more.  Perhaps I can no longer “hang” with this new generation? 

He rips a part of his tapped wrist off, staring at part of his hand exposed.

Crimson Lord: I come out at number thirty-two…..THIRTY-TWO!  Almost guaranteed to walk out with my possession.  Then it happens the one man who has yet to pin my shoulders to the mat does the impossible and with rather ease.  Has Perfection taken that one thing from me that is worse then retaking back the UTA World Title?  The reason to keep doing this…?

He slowly starts unwrapping more tape from his right hand.

Crimson Lord:  If Perfection can take anything away from Crimson Lord. He has taken me down a few pegs.  My once imposing presence brought down to mere parlor tricks.  I am starting to believe I am not the same man that first stepped into the UTA over thirteen years ago.

He slowly looks up at his locker with his duffel bag resting at the bottom.

Crimson Lord:  Normally I would be furious at myself for that pathetic performance out there.  How I can let a piss ant like Perfection get “put over” by me is preposterous!

Crimson looks over at the wall with a promo poster of James Wingate on the wall. Rage fills him.

Crimson Lord:  This is all Wingate’s fault, that fucking contract I signed and that fine print has fucking haunted me ever since I came back. 

Looks away from the picture and stares at his hands facing upward now.

Crimson Lord:  The details of this contract is to have The Spawn put over Perfection as a legitimate champion.  In my eagerness to resign with the company that pretty much put Crimson Lord on the wrestling map!  I signed and in my negligence  ignored the fact I would put this disrespectful pile of monkey shit over! 

He ripped a part of the tape off so violently a red mark appeared on his hand.

Crimson Lord:  Perfection never was a worthy man to hold that championship.  I knew it Ron, Fantastic, and Spectre all knew this.  This is how the UTA treats the guys that built this place!  To turn us into nothing but a joke.  To dumb down who we were back in the day.  To make us have to conform to this new era of wrestling.  To not only be disrespected by that meatbag Perfection but this new generation of UTA talent!

Crimson removes the final piece of tape from his hand and clutches his fist in anger.

Crimson Lord:   I am not someone’s stepping stone!  I get the feeling that people no longer want to see the Mr. Fantastic’s, the Spectre’s hell even the Southern Rebel’s anymore.  We have become scapegoats it seems in this company now.  Only designed to put all these ingrates now employed with this company “over” is my time over?  I like to think not! I still have plenty of fight left in my tank. 

He slowly begins removing the tape from his other hand.

Crimson Lord:  I can still hang with the best of them.  Whether it be Blanca, Jackson, Kush whoever seems to be riding high at the top of this company.  Remember this children your only at the top because I helped make this company what it is today.  If it were not for guys like me you would not be riding so high right now in a company thriving in this business right now.  Your names are in the spotlight and on the marquee.  It was made all possible by guys like Crimson Lord!

Pulling yet another piece of tape from his hand.

Crimson Lord:  Yet, time in and time again I come into work and am chastised by my lifestyle.  The brooding “vampire”  no longer “fits” in today’s modern society.  There is no room for the intimating seven footer anymore.  Or the man that bathes in blood, or drinks glasses of it anymore.  These are characteristics that set people apart.  No this “new era” of wrestling wants everyone to conform to same boring mold.  I am who I am and I’ll be fucking DAMNED if I change for YOU!

He removes the final piece of tape from his hand.  He stands up and stares at his duffel bag in his locker.  He then looks toward the James Wingate picture.

Crimson Lord:  What you people want is a war.  A war between the old school and the new school be careful what you wish for.  Because if I have to set my ego aside and even consider aligning myself with Ron Hall.  All you degenerates especially YOU…

He points at James Wingate.

Crimson Lord:  Will be sorry you forced my hand! 

He lowers his hand and grabs his duffel bag and looks down at the locker floor.

Crimson Lord:  Lucky for you ingrates I have not been pushed …YET… force myself to aligned with that piece of southern hillbilly trash!  Perfection may have bruised my ego at All or Nothing, but if there is one thing I have learned in my years in this business egos mend quickly. 

Crimson leaves the locker room and says one final message.

Crimson Lord:  The Plague of Darkness is not going ANYWHERE! If you do not like it all you suits at UTA HQ…….  I could give two flying piles of monkey shit!

He leaves the locker room.

Fade to black