Post by Chris Jericho on Jun 2, 2006 20:36:18 GMT -5
The fans inside of the Saturday Night’s Main Event Arena are buzzing with anticipation, waiting for the next segment of the night. Out of nowhere, a massive explosion rocks the stadium, sending the fans into an uproar. A countdown appears on the titan tron, and a clock begins ticking.
The fans begin to scream in approval as the timer ends, and another pyro shoots down from the rafters, exploding in front of the ramp way. “King of My World” blares over the arena, a massive drum solo leads into a catchy guitar rift. Chris Jericho waltzes out through the curtain, World Heavyweight Championship loosely hung over his right shoulder. Smiling cockily to himself, Jericho swings his back towards the camera, and spreads his arms out. A spotlight shines down upon the World Champion, and Chris spins around, and then pumps his elbow into his torso. Jericho stays in his spot, smirking happily, and basks in the glory of being World Champion.
Wearing black tights with lightning bolts scattered over his legs, Chris struts down the ramp way, and slaps a few of the Jericholics’ hands who sit by the ring steps. Y2J slowly walks up the steps, and places his left hand on top of the turnbuckle. With one quick motion, Jericho steps onto the ring apron. He takes a huge step, spanning the side of the ring, the spins around, so his back is leaning against the red ropes. The fans take pictures of “The King of the World”, delighted that they have been graced with his presence. Chris swings his leg under the top rope, and ducks under it, entering the ring. Chris raises his arms in the air, with a purple spotlight probing around his being. He spins around across the ring, soaking in the cheers and electricity of the crowd. He walks over to the nearest turnbuckle and climbs up, raising his championship belt high above his head. Chris drops down, landing firmly on his feet, and calls for a microphone. A crewman tosses it to Jericho, and Y2J catches it skillfully with one hand. He raises it up to his mouth to speak.
The fans begin to scream in approval as the timer ends, and another pyro shoots down from the rafters, exploding in front of the ramp way. “King of My World” blares over the arena, a massive drum solo leads into a catchy guitar rift. Chris Jericho waltzes out through the curtain, World Heavyweight Championship loosely hung over his right shoulder. Smiling cockily to himself, Jericho swings his back towards the camera, and spreads his arms out. A spotlight shines down upon the World Champion, and Chris spins around, and then pumps his elbow into his torso. Jericho stays in his spot, smirking happily, and basks in the glory of being World Champion.
Wearing black tights with lightning bolts scattered over his legs, Chris struts down the ramp way, and slaps a few of the Jericholics’ hands who sit by the ring steps. Y2J slowly walks up the steps, and places his left hand on top of the turnbuckle. With one quick motion, Jericho steps onto the ring apron. He takes a huge step, spanning the side of the ring, the spins around, so his back is leaning against the red ropes. The fans take pictures of “The King of the World”, delighted that they have been graced with his presence. Chris swings his leg under the top rope, and ducks under it, entering the ring. Chris raises his arms in the air, with a purple spotlight probing around his being. He spins around across the ring, soaking in the cheers and electricity of the crowd. He walks over to the nearest turnbuckle and climbs up, raising his championship belt high above his head. Chris drops down, landing firmly on his feet, and calls for a microphone. A crewman tosses it to Jericho, and Y2J catches it skillfully with one hand. He raises it up to his mouth to speak.
Jericho: “Well, well, well. Look at what I have here. The World Heavyweight Championship! Finally, my dues have paid off in full, I am living my dream. It took my six months to get here, through every obstacle imaginable, but it was worth it. I would go through that hell again if it meant retaining my title. I did something at Rumble in the Jungle that no one else could do, I survived “The Game” in a hellacious Lion’s Den Match. But let’s stop looking at the past and focus on the present. This Saturday I have Shawn Michaels one on one. I have the man who tried to cost me the World Title in the ring. This is a dream match you assclowns! All of you have wanted to see this match, and now is your chance. Ladies, gentlemen, children, monkeys, assclowns, and whatever the hell else there is, this match is going to tear the roof down. Or let me put it like this, it WOULD have torn the house down. Shawn Michaels is nothing but a fraud now- a -days. Now he relies on his the man that’s been on his penis for the last 3 years, Triple H, to do his work. Well Shawn, your boy Triple H couldn’t do it at Rumble in the Jungle, and he’s damn not gonna help tonight, he has Batista and the Stinger to watch out for. Look at yourself, Shawn! You can barely walk. I saw you trying to climb that cage, and you could barely get up a foot! Think about your back, and how badly it will be torn when I’m through with you. Think about how much damage the Lion Tamer is going to inflict upon your back. There is no way in hell that you are going to walk out of here on your on two feet. Say hi to the stretcher for me Shawn.”
Jericho all of sudden drops the microphone, and rolls out of the ring. He searches under the ring, looking for something. Chris grabs a plastic bag, and rolls back into the ring and picks up the microphone.
Jericho: “I guess you guys are wondering what’s in this bag, right? Well you’ll have to wait. But can you please direct your attention to the titan tron for this special video. Monkeys in the back, roll the footage!”
The screen shows clips of DX reuniting.
Inside the ring, Chris Jericho has on a DX t-shirt and a biker cap on backwards.
Jericho: “Suck it! Suck it! Suck it! This is all I can say because this is my vocabulary! Break it down! I got two words for ya: SUCK IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is HBK, the Has-Been-Kid! Come on! I don’t lay down for anyone because my back would hurt too much! Oh man, I say that I’ve been up all night long instead of sleeping with girls. Ya’ know why? Because I can’t get an erection! All those steroids have taken a toll! We were up all night trying to get thing to get up, but we just couldn’t get the snake to dance, if ya’ know what I mean.”
Jericho does a crotch chop, obviously entertaining the fans and the viewers at home. But then Jericho’s smirking countenance fades into a visage of intensity. He grabs the DX shirt by the collar, and rips it off his chest, shredding the green and black cloth in half.
Jericho: “Enough of it. I’m sick of this DX crap. It’s in the past Shawn; you’re tinkering with a good thing. Don’t mess it up. Hell, don’t even go there. I’m gonna do ya’ a favor this Saturday and end your career so you don’t screw up any more good things. Shawn Michaels, prepare for the fight of your life this Saturday and remember, don’t tinker with the wrong substance.”
Jericho drops the microphone on the canvas, and slides out under the ropes. He tightens the World Title around his shoulder, and heads back up the ramp way, intense and ready to go.