IEW Rage Promo

The scene opens backstage in front of a locker room, with a plaque on it. The camera comes closer to the door, and the wording on the sign is seen, “RAGE”. The door slowly opens to reveal Rage sitting on a black leather couch smiling from ear to ear, not making one glance at the camera, yet. Rage leans forward toward the large plasma screen TV, he snickers to himself, and the camera looks at the TV to see what is so funny. On the plasma TV Screen is Adrian Slayer the World Champion of the IEW, it happens to be one of his latest promos. The camera man turns around and Rage is no longer smiling.

Rage- That…. That is our world Champion?! That is the man who won the rumble. Wow, I am speechless. This Foul Minded Lush is our Champion?! …. It could be worse… OH WAIT IT IS! The Dangerously Boring, Out Dated, No Talent, and Thinks he’s extreme all because he can tape a chair to his chest and cross body some jobber who he paid off, Dave Jess is our I.C. Champ! I mean…. What has this aging punk rocker done to impress me?! NOTHING! Absolutely Nothing! If anything I should have that title… Not him…. ME! And man with true talent, after all, I didn’t have to grow out my hair, head bang, and scream bad lyrics to get attention…. Enough about talking about the past… I have the opportunity to take a title that means more than the world title, for at least me. That title is the Extreme Title. Nothing will stand in my, no person will maintain a threat towards me, because when it comes down to it, I’ve got all the talent. With only a chair I can beat you from an inch of your life. Though… That is not my favorite type of weapon…. The only weapon which I use more vicious than my chairs, in what I have right here.

Rage taps the side of his head, as the camera zooms in. He smiles, and continues on.

Rage- This is the advantage I have coming in to my next match against, a Sexy Boy C.T., actually that’s not my only lead, Like I’ve said, I’ve got the Xtreme Talent, What does this pathetic oaf have on me? Wait... knowing how things go now days, he’s a former porn star with a mean streak, so he deiced to join wrestling after accidentally killing one of his co-stars. Well, that’s what I gather from his name, and I don’t think I too off, with a catch phrase like, I am Entertainment with a capital ‘E’ he’s obviously not too bright. Now that I think more about it, My Xtreme talent will over whelm the poor guy, he’ll just have to except that he’s a loser, and will never amount to anything. Well, He was at least with half a brain, unlike this Kumba fellow. Just listening to this guy makes your IQ Drop through the floor! Let me just give you an example of something he would say…. Hey, I’m Kumba, I’ma gonna beat all your smelly asses at this PPV, and I’ma gonna win the world title. You all going to lose because I am Kumba!

Rage shakes his head.

Rage- He HAD to be dropped on his head as a child. There is no way someone can be that stupid, and still breathe. If he had a brother I am pretty sure it would be like the duo of Monolith and Cradle. The two just drive me nuts about there name, 7 Deadly Sins, Repenting, and the fact that they aren’t evil! LICKING OFF RED PAINT DOESN’T MAKE YOU EVIL! All you get is lead poisoning! Here’s a bit of advice, Stop your digging just so you can get cheap thrills off of the dead, and listen. Go Home; Take a Shower, Wash off the white make up off your body, and STOP TRYING TO BE EVIL! Your not! It would be like if I tried not to be Xtreme, Just imagine it… I’d end up being like E.G. Mackie with his new age calming music! I’d be….. BORING!

A knock is heard at Rage’s door. The camera no longer looks at Rage but a man in a suit and tie. Rage stands up and looks oddly at him for a moment. The man removes his sun glasses and put them in his suit jacket. Rage scratches his head.

Rage- Who… Are you?

The man shakes his head and flops down on his leather couch. Rage turns around and looks down at the man.

Rage- HEY! That’s my furniture! What do you think your doing here, and WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!?

Paul E. Dangerous- What? You don’t recognize me?

Rage- Damn straight I don’t know you!

Paul E. Dangerous- Perhaps I can get the gears working in your head with a couple of words. Rowdy Wallace, The Franchise.

Rage- Rowdy? Man, you’ve lost a lot of body mass, I mean weren’t you built like grizzly bear?

Paul E. Dangerous- Rage, I am his manager, Paul.

Rage- Oh… What can I do for you?

Paul E. Dangerous- First off, Stop being so damn cocky.

Rage- Wait, Why are you making demand like you’re my……

Paul E. Dangerous smiles and gets up. He walks for the door and Rage follows him curious as all get out. Paul opens the door, and pats Rage on the back.

Paul E. Dangerous- Good luck Rage.

Paul leaves the room and Rage looks around.

Rage- WAIT!!!

Rage bolts out of the room and leaves the camera man alone in his dressing room.

	The One, The Only.... RAGE
	The scene opens backstage in front of a locker room, with a plaque on it. The camera comes closer to the door, and the wording on the sign is seen, “RAGE”. The door slowly opens to reveal Rage sitting on a black leather couch smiling from ear to ear, not making one glance at the camera, yet. Rage leans forward toward the large plasma screen TV, he snickers to himself, and the camera looks at the TV to see what is so funny. On the plasma TV Screen is Adrian Slayer the World Champion of the IEW, it happens to be one of his latest promos. The camera man turns around and Rage is no longer smiling. Rage- That…. That is our world Champion?! That is the man who won the rumble. Wow, I am speechless. This Foul Minded Lush is our Champion?! …. It could be worse… OH WAIT IT IS! The Dangerously Boring, Out Dated, No Talent, and Thinks he’s extreme all because he can tape a chair to his chest and cross body some jobber who he paid off, Dave Jess is our I.C. Champ! I mean…. What has this aging punk rocker done to impress me?! NOTHING! Absolutely Nothing! If anything I should have that title… Not him…. ME! And man with true talent, after all, I didn’t have to grow out my hair, head bang, and scream bad lyrics to get attention…. Enough about talking about the past… I have the opportunity to take a title that means more than the world title, for at least me. That title is the Extreme Title. Nothing will stand in my, no person will maintain a threat towards me, because when it comes down to it, I’ve got all the talent. With only a chair I can beat you from an inch of your life. Though… That is not my favorite type of weapon…. The only weapon which I use more vicious than my chairs, in what I have right here. Rage taps the side of his head, as the camera zooms in. He smiles, and continues on. Rage- This is the advantage I have coming in to my next match against, a Sexy Boy C.T., actually that’s not my only lead, Like I’ve said, I’ve got the Xtreme Talent, What does this pathetic oaf have on me? Wait... knowing how things go now days, he’s a former porn star with a mean streak, so he deiced to join wrestling after accidentally killing one of his co-stars. Well, that’s what I gather from his name, and I don’t think I too off, with a catch phrase like, I am Entertainment with a capital ‘E’ he’s obviously not too bright. Now that I think more about it, My Xtreme talent will over whelm the poor guy, he’ll just have to except that he’s a loser, and will never amount to anything. Well, He was at least with half a brain, unlike this Kumba fellow. Just listening to this guy makes your IQ Drop through the floor! Let me just give you an example of something he would say…. Hey, I’m Kumba, I’ma gonna beat all your smelly asses at this PPV, and I’ma gonna win the world title. You all going to lose because I am Kumba! Rage shakes his head. Rage- He HAD to be dropped on his head as a child. There is no way someone can be that stupid, and still breathe. If he had a brother I am pretty sure it would be like the duo of Monolith and Cradle. The two just drive me nuts about there name, 7 Deadly Sins, Repenting, and the fact that they aren’t evil! LICKING OFF RED PAINT DOESN’T MAKE YOU EVIL! All you get is lead poisoning! Here’s a bit of advice, Stop your digging just so you can get cheap thrills off of the dead, and listen. Go Home; Take a Shower, Wash off the white make up off your body, and STOP TRYING TO BE EVIL! Your not! It would be like if I tried not to be Xtreme, Just imagine it… I’d end up being like E.G. Mackie with his new age calming music! I’d be….. BORING! A knock is heard at Rage’s door. The camera no longer looks at Rage but a man in a suit and tie. Rage stands up and looks oddly at him for a moment. The man removes his sun glasses and put them in his suit jacket. Rage scratches his head. Rage- Who… Are you? The man shakes his head and flops down on his leather couch. Rage turns around and looks down at the man. Rage- HEY! That’s my furniture! What do you think your doing here, and WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!? Paul E. Dangerous- What? You don’t recognize me? Rage- Damn straight I don’t know you! Paul E. Dangerous- Perhaps I can get the gears working in your head with a couple of words. Rowdy Wallace, The Franchise. Rage- Rowdy? Man, you’ve lost a lot of body mass, I mean weren’t you built like grizzly bear? Paul E. Dangerous- Rage, I am his manager, Paul. Rage- Oh… What can I do for you? Paul E. Dangerous- First off, Stop being so damn cocky. Rage- Wait, Why are you making demand like you’re my…… Paul E. Dangerous smiles and gets up. He walks for the door and Rage follows him curious as all get out. Paul opens the door, and pats Rage on the back. Paul E. Dangerous- Good luck Rage. Paul leaves the room and Rage looks around. Rage- WAIT!!! Rage bolts out of the room and leaves the camera man alone in his dressing room.