Post by mattbrock on Jun 30, 2012 14:00:57 GMT -5
“YES…
UH UH URGH! URRRRRGH!
OH GOD YES…
UH URRRGH!
THIS.IS.AWESOME.
URGH!
YEAH BABY!”
The sounds erupting from Matt Brock’s bedroom were enough to make anyone feel sick. The moans and groans from the amateur wrestling champion bounced off the walls and through the cracks in the door. The WGWF Cameraman hesitated, as he was about to knock on the door.
“DROP IT ON MY CHEST! DROP IT ON MY CHEST!”
The cameraman finally decided enough was enough and knocked in the door, expecting a volatile response.
“WOOO! THAT’S IT, THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKIN’ ABOUT! COME IN!”
The cameraman entered with a hand over his eyes, he gradually lowered them to see Matt Brock sitting on his bench, with his personal trainer; Jerome Da Silva lifting the barbell back into place. Jerome was 6’8 inches tall and built like tank; his dark skin only intensified his stern gaze, and his deep voice was like the bassline to a dubstep track.
In fact he was one of the few men who could dwarf the former NCAA Champion, who stood at a daunting 6’3 weighing in at a bulky 260 pounds. The sweat dripped off Matt’s body as his loyal henchman handed him a towel to wipe it off. When he’d finished with it he threw it to the cameraman.
“Give that to your kid, he’s gonna love it.” Matt said to the cameraman, genuinely thinking anyone would be lucky to have it.
“I don’t have a son.” The cameraman responded, shyly.
“Your daughter then.” Matt said, still smiling.
“She’s not really a big wrestling fan.” The cameraman stated.
Matt Brock became aggravated.
“Well then sucks to be her, right? Wait a second, how old is she?” Matt asked.
“She’s 16 next month.” The cameraman didn’t like where this was going.
“16? Huh? She hot?” Matt never was good with words, or people for that matter.
“Excuse me?!” The cameraman became annoyed. Jerome whispered something in Matt’s ear.
“Oh shit! My bad, dude. Course I don’t expect you to answer that, besides this is all about me! My introduction to the professional wrestling world, my big moment! Put that camera on me, make sure you catch all the sweat, in fact, pass me that bottle of water.”
The cameraman passes the bottle of water to Matt as he douses himself in it.
“Okay now use some light filters or whatever, just get every little ripped muscle in there, got it?” Matt demanded.
The cameraman had seen some arrogant jerks in his time, but this guy was a complete and utter narcissist jackass. Matt Brock flexed his muscles and posed as the cameraman reluctantly filmed him.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, Matt Brock has arrived on the professional wrestling scene, having rejected offers from promotions all over the country, I have decided to go where only the best hone their craft, where only the best become champions of the world.
By being in the WGWF, I will double the current ratings, I am the man people want to see, I am the man that people love! You see I’ve been a champion all my life, and I will continue that legacy here in this company. I can’t wait to meet the rest of the roster, and I’m sure they can’t wait to meet me. It’s going to suck ass having to beat them all in the ring on my way to the WGWF World Heavyweight Championship, but I’m sure they’ll understand that the best simply have to be the best, and once they understand that, then everyone will be happy.
I look forward to meeting my adoring fans and I’m sure they’ll be climbing over themselves to meet me. My name is Matt Brock, and I will be your personal guide to being awesome, follow in my footsteps and you can be awesome too, probably not AS awesome, but as close as you possibly can without being me.
Remember, don’t settle for mediocrity, and don’t settle for anything less than Matt Brock.”
The cameraman looks on in disgust as Matt Brock’s smile fades with the scene.
UH UH URGH! URRRRRGH!
OH GOD YES…
UH URRRGH!
THIS.IS.AWESOME.
URGH!
YEAH BABY!”
The sounds erupting from Matt Brock’s bedroom were enough to make anyone feel sick. The moans and groans from the amateur wrestling champion bounced off the walls and through the cracks in the door. The WGWF Cameraman hesitated, as he was about to knock on the door.
“DROP IT ON MY CHEST! DROP IT ON MY CHEST!”
The cameraman finally decided enough was enough and knocked in the door, expecting a volatile response.
“WOOO! THAT’S IT, THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKIN’ ABOUT! COME IN!”
The cameraman entered with a hand over his eyes, he gradually lowered them to see Matt Brock sitting on his bench, with his personal trainer; Jerome Da Silva lifting the barbell back into place. Jerome was 6’8 inches tall and built like tank; his dark skin only intensified his stern gaze, and his deep voice was like the bassline to a dubstep track.
In fact he was one of the few men who could dwarf the former NCAA Champion, who stood at a daunting 6’3 weighing in at a bulky 260 pounds. The sweat dripped off Matt’s body as his loyal henchman handed him a towel to wipe it off. When he’d finished with it he threw it to the cameraman.
“Give that to your kid, he’s gonna love it.” Matt said to the cameraman, genuinely thinking anyone would be lucky to have it.
“I don’t have a son.” The cameraman responded, shyly.
“Your daughter then.” Matt said, still smiling.
“She’s not really a big wrestling fan.” The cameraman stated.
Matt Brock became aggravated.
“Well then sucks to be her, right? Wait a second, how old is she?” Matt asked.
“She’s 16 next month.” The cameraman didn’t like where this was going.
“16? Huh? She hot?” Matt never was good with words, or people for that matter.
“Excuse me?!” The cameraman became annoyed. Jerome whispered something in Matt’s ear.
“Oh shit! My bad, dude. Course I don’t expect you to answer that, besides this is all about me! My introduction to the professional wrestling world, my big moment! Put that camera on me, make sure you catch all the sweat, in fact, pass me that bottle of water.”
The cameraman passes the bottle of water to Matt as he douses himself in it.
“Okay now use some light filters or whatever, just get every little ripped muscle in there, got it?” Matt demanded.
The cameraman had seen some arrogant jerks in his time, but this guy was a complete and utter narcissist jackass. Matt Brock flexed his muscles and posed as the cameraman reluctantly filmed him.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, Matt Brock has arrived on the professional wrestling scene, having rejected offers from promotions all over the country, I have decided to go where only the best hone their craft, where only the best become champions of the world.
By being in the WGWF, I will double the current ratings, I am the man people want to see, I am the man that people love! You see I’ve been a champion all my life, and I will continue that legacy here in this company. I can’t wait to meet the rest of the roster, and I’m sure they can’t wait to meet me. It’s going to suck ass having to beat them all in the ring on my way to the WGWF World Heavyweight Championship, but I’m sure they’ll understand that the best simply have to be the best, and once they understand that, then everyone will be happy.
I look forward to meeting my adoring fans and I’m sure they’ll be climbing over themselves to meet me. My name is Matt Brock, and I will be your personal guide to being awesome, follow in my footsteps and you can be awesome too, probably not AS awesome, but as close as you possibly can without being me.
Remember, don’t settle for mediocrity, and don’t settle for anything less than Matt Brock.”
The cameraman looks on in disgust as Matt Brock’s smile fades with the scene.