Post by Deleted on Mar 13, 2019 20:45:16 GMT -8
“This is not the Kendrick Kross I knew when I came to California Wrestling.”
Samantha Tolson-Anderson sat in a locker room inside the Bojangles Coliseum in Charlotte, North Carolina, where she was about to address the crowd after capturing the Queen City Pro Wrestling World Championship about eleven nights earlier. Without an actual match on the card, she’s in a pair of Nike basketball shorts and one of her black “Kiss of Death” t-shirts.
“No, this is not the man I chased down, this is not the man who fought me tooth and nail for the Pride Championship.”
“This Kendrick Kross? This is someone I don’t recognize”
“I don’t recognize this person, the one who takes to Twitter and whines and complains for tweets on end about this staff member, or this General Manager, or whatever the hell Kendrick is complaining about these days.”
“The man I faced for the Pride Championship would have simply done what he needed to do, balls to the wall, caution to the wind. This guy?”
“He’s nothing more than a sniveling, whiny little bitch.”
“Yes. I said it Kendrick. You’re quickly going from being a strong, fearsome competitor to petulant child. And it’s not just me that sees it. Anyone who takes a look at your tweets over, say, the last week can see it.”
“You’ve lost your edge. You’ve lost your spark. You’re content to battle things out with management on social media instead of getting into the ring and forcing their hand. What do you think I did? Did I complain about the messed up match in the Immortal Kingdom Crown tournament? No, I moved on and then put Eddy Poe down for three in the finals. I did what I intended to do, and I did it without crying into my morning cereal about it.”
“Long story short, I made management notice. I left them with no other choice but to put me in a match with you for that title. Yes, I did it by winning the Immortal Kingdom Crown tournament, but the point I’m making here is that I made myself impossible to ignore due to results in the ring.”
“You’re slowly making your way towards becoming irrelevant because of your constant drivel on social media.”
Samantha draws in a long breath, exhaling slowly.
“I don’t want to face that version of you, Kendrick. I have absolutely, positively zero interest in facing someone who’d rather take his grievances to Twitter than fix them in the ring. None whatsoever. So if that’s the Kendrick Kross that’s going to come to the ring at Walk of Fame, then please, I’m begging you, don’t come. Just don’t.”
“Because I promise you, if you walk into that ring with that mindset Friday night, I’m going to end you. Not because I want to, because honestly, I don’t. But it will happen because that Kendrick Kross has absolutely no answer for me.”
“So I’m hoping that the thought of getting in the ring with me again spurs something in you. I hope it gets your blood flowing just a little faster, your adrenaline pumping just a little harder. I want the Kendrick Kross that nearly put me to sleep. I want the Kendrick Kross that will fight with everything he’s got for what he wants.”
“That’s who I want to face. That’s who I want to show up Friday night.”
“Otherwise, Kendrick?”
“Save yourself the embarrassment. Save yourself the ignominy of being a former Pride Champion who takes another step downward from his fall from notoriety into anonymity.”
“Come ready for a fight, Kendrick Kross.”
“Or don’t come at all.”
The scene fades to black as Samantha stares intently into the camera.
Samantha Tolson-Anderson sat in a locker room inside the Bojangles Coliseum in Charlotte, North Carolina, where she was about to address the crowd after capturing the Queen City Pro Wrestling World Championship about eleven nights earlier. Without an actual match on the card, she’s in a pair of Nike basketball shorts and one of her black “Kiss of Death” t-shirts.
“No, this is not the man I chased down, this is not the man who fought me tooth and nail for the Pride Championship.”
“This Kendrick Kross? This is someone I don’t recognize”
“I don’t recognize this person, the one who takes to Twitter and whines and complains for tweets on end about this staff member, or this General Manager, or whatever the hell Kendrick is complaining about these days.”
“The man I faced for the Pride Championship would have simply done what he needed to do, balls to the wall, caution to the wind. This guy?”
“He’s nothing more than a sniveling, whiny little bitch.”
“Yes. I said it Kendrick. You’re quickly going from being a strong, fearsome competitor to petulant child. And it’s not just me that sees it. Anyone who takes a look at your tweets over, say, the last week can see it.”
“You’ve lost your edge. You’ve lost your spark. You’re content to battle things out with management on social media instead of getting into the ring and forcing their hand. What do you think I did? Did I complain about the messed up match in the Immortal Kingdom Crown tournament? No, I moved on and then put Eddy Poe down for three in the finals. I did what I intended to do, and I did it without crying into my morning cereal about it.”
“Long story short, I made management notice. I left them with no other choice but to put me in a match with you for that title. Yes, I did it by winning the Immortal Kingdom Crown tournament, but the point I’m making here is that I made myself impossible to ignore due to results in the ring.”
“You’re slowly making your way towards becoming irrelevant because of your constant drivel on social media.”
Samantha draws in a long breath, exhaling slowly.
“I don’t want to face that version of you, Kendrick. I have absolutely, positively zero interest in facing someone who’d rather take his grievances to Twitter than fix them in the ring. None whatsoever. So if that’s the Kendrick Kross that’s going to come to the ring at Walk of Fame, then please, I’m begging you, don’t come. Just don’t.”
“Because I promise you, if you walk into that ring with that mindset Friday night, I’m going to end you. Not because I want to, because honestly, I don’t. But it will happen because that Kendrick Kross has absolutely no answer for me.”
“So I’m hoping that the thought of getting in the ring with me again spurs something in you. I hope it gets your blood flowing just a little faster, your adrenaline pumping just a little harder. I want the Kendrick Kross that nearly put me to sleep. I want the Kendrick Kross that will fight with everything he’s got for what he wants.”
“That’s who I want to face. That’s who I want to show up Friday night.”
“Otherwise, Kendrick?”
“Save yourself the embarrassment. Save yourself the ignominy of being a former Pride Champion who takes another step downward from his fall from notoriety into anonymity.”
“Come ready for a fight, Kendrick Kross.”
“Or don’t come at all.”
The scene fades to black as Samantha stares intently into the camera.
