Post by Sin City Saint on Aug 24, 2005 19:42:24 GMT -5
Inside his hotel room in Las Vegas, Nevada on a somewhat quiet evening for a city that never sleeps. The dishelved look of The Sin City Saint is emanent. His eyes glazed over in a money green type auroa. Seated on the sofa, the coffee table pulled up close to his legs. The tv echoes in the background, but nothing of any meaning can be heard in the mind of The Sin City Saint. Hundred dollar bills cover the small coffee table, as The Sin City Saint reaches into his pocket. From inside his jeans, Saint emerges with a roll of bills, clipped together by a rubber band. He places the wad on the table and begins to stack the hundreds in order.
[Sin City Saint] Summer Sizzler has come and now it has gone. But a distant memory in the historical career of a modern soldier. Eric Hardcastle, your so called win is meaningless. Only after I suffered close to 60 minutes of pure onslaught, do you come in and scrape up a less than 100% Sin City Saint. If I was 100%, you would have not stood a chance. I entered #1. The first to enter. And I, didn't have just 1 man to beat. No, I had to face off against 3 of Valor's best. The first 2, being men with super human strength. 2 men that grossly outsized me in every facet of physical prowess. After, I walked through hell, you had the enviable task of pecking away on my battered body. So congratulations! Enjoy your tragic win, if thats what you want to call it. No matter, I have my eyes set on another goal.
Completing his stack, Saint rolls the hundreds up. He snatches a rubber band from the floor and rolls the wad together.
[Sin City Saint] My eyes are transfixed to one title. That title is the North American Title. My partner in The Impact Players has The World, so its time to add more gold to most powerful faction walking God's green earth. And the North American Title would look perfect, right here in Vegas. This Sunday, marks the start of my campaign to that title. This Sunday, at Slam, I face a man named Brandon Kash. Look around Brandon......
Saint grabs a wad of hundreds and holds it up in the air.
[Sin City Saint] ......this is the only CASH, I give a damn about. Brandon you are a pimple on the face of life. Nothing more than a temporary facial pinch. I see you for what you truly are. And I got a big bottle of industrial strength Clearasil to clear that baby right up. When I am through with you, I issue the challenge to Chad West. I issue the challenge to the current champion. Chad West, your match at the pay per view was a joke. Justin Tyme. PJ Money. Where are they now? The unemployment line. Stranded in red tape and forms to be filled out. Waiting for a check to come in the mail for weeks on weeks. I went toe to toe with Immune and Zmaster. Two giants among most. Warriors for sure. You had to beat just 1 man. I had to beat 2. Forget Ron Tibbs, Chad. Concentrate. Feel the hot breath, cased down the edge of your neck. When you least expect it Chad. When you least expect it. Let the trumpet of warning be heard. For when the time comes, it comes. Saint's Honor!
Sin City Saint leans back in the sofa and smiles. He slides the wads of money back into his jeans and soaks in his evil smirk.
[Sin City Saint] Summer Sizzler has come and now it has gone. But a distant memory in the historical career of a modern soldier. Eric Hardcastle, your so called win is meaningless. Only after I suffered close to 60 minutes of pure onslaught, do you come in and scrape up a less than 100% Sin City Saint. If I was 100%, you would have not stood a chance. I entered #1. The first to enter. And I, didn't have just 1 man to beat. No, I had to face off against 3 of Valor's best. The first 2, being men with super human strength. 2 men that grossly outsized me in every facet of physical prowess. After, I walked through hell, you had the enviable task of pecking away on my battered body. So congratulations! Enjoy your tragic win, if thats what you want to call it. No matter, I have my eyes set on another goal.
Completing his stack, Saint rolls the hundreds up. He snatches a rubber band from the floor and rolls the wad together.
[Sin City Saint] My eyes are transfixed to one title. That title is the North American Title. My partner in The Impact Players has The World, so its time to add more gold to most powerful faction walking God's green earth. And the North American Title would look perfect, right here in Vegas. This Sunday, marks the start of my campaign to that title. This Sunday, at Slam, I face a man named Brandon Kash. Look around Brandon......
Saint grabs a wad of hundreds and holds it up in the air.
[Sin City Saint] ......this is the only CASH, I give a damn about. Brandon you are a pimple on the face of life. Nothing more than a temporary facial pinch. I see you for what you truly are. And I got a big bottle of industrial strength Clearasil to clear that baby right up. When I am through with you, I issue the challenge to Chad West. I issue the challenge to the current champion. Chad West, your match at the pay per view was a joke. Justin Tyme. PJ Money. Where are they now? The unemployment line. Stranded in red tape and forms to be filled out. Waiting for a check to come in the mail for weeks on weeks. I went toe to toe with Immune and Zmaster. Two giants among most. Warriors for sure. You had to beat just 1 man. I had to beat 2. Forget Ron Tibbs, Chad. Concentrate. Feel the hot breath, cased down the edge of your neck. When you least expect it Chad. When you least expect it. Let the trumpet of warning be heard. For when the time comes, it comes. Saint's Honor!
Sin City Saint leans back in the sofa and smiles. He slides the wads of money back into his jeans and soaks in his evil smirk.
