pfff...pfff..pfff.pfff...pffff...pffff.pffff.pffff I am still thinking, does MMO count as a genre cause I don't like MMO's.
Which promo is better?; this one
Because here is the truth about Las Vegas, here is the truth about the WWE is that it doesn't matter that if you're the best wrestler, it doesn't matter if you're the best talker, it doesn't matter if you're the best overall performer, it doesn't matter if you make the two clowns sitting to my left on commentary look like amateur hour. There is a glass ceiling and nobody is allowed to break it. That's the simple story of this place. The more popular you are, the more money you make. The more you people cheer for any given superstar, the more opportunities you're afforded. Why do you think a guy like John Cena, who has admittedly had the worst year of his career, gets title shot after title shot after title shot after title shot? Or why a lethal grappler, why a serious submission specialist like Daniel Bryan puts a smile on his face and settles himself, belittles himself with catchphrases. Or why a 400 pound monster, Brodus Clay, soils his hands by touching your filthy, ugly, little children to get in the ring so he can shuck and jive for you. Or why an invisible child, Little Jimmy, is better positioned on the flagship show Monday Night RAW than a workhorse like Tyson Kidd. If I— if I competed in Bruno Sammartino's era, I'd have been champion for 20 years, too. No, I'd have been champion for 30 years. Because wrestling one night a month at Madison Square Garden is easy. You never see a Hulk Hogan wrestle TLC matches against a superstar like Ryback. Because he had it easy. I wrestle physically demanding matches on free television, week in and week out. So much that my one year equals 30 of theirs. And I have attained this success, not— not because of you. I am successful not because of you. I am successful in sprite of you. Now, I'm the most honest man in this building, I'm the most honest man in this company 'cause everybody else has got the same, old, tired crybaby story. They'll come out here and they'll say 'I do it for the people, I do it for all of you. Let's hear it for Tampa, Florida!' Here's some honesty. I watched Roddy Piper smash a coconut over Jimmy Snuka's head and I sure as hell didn't say 'Golly Gee! I can't wait to go electrify the people of Tamba Bay, Florida.' No! Because I don't care about the people of Tampa Bay, Florida. There's good guys and there's bad guys in this world and make no mistake about it, ladies and gentlemen, I am a bad, bad man and I can freely admit it. But Ric Flair will come out here and he'll cry his 182 year eyes out and say 'Oh, I did it for all of you'. Now they're wooing. Shawn Michaels can come out here and lose his smile and find his smile, but then in a— in a tearful Hall of Fame speech he'll say that his entire career was just to gain your acceptance. Then a man like Edge is forced to retire and he'll say that he misses competing for people like you. Now, these people, these men are either weak or they're dishonest and they're liars. It's either one or the other. But I— I'm neither weak nor dishonest. I'm the best in the world. Two types of people on this earth. Those born to be in the spotlight and those born to pay to see the people in the spotlight. Ladies and gentlemen, there's winner and losers. Guess which one you are. You're born to pay to see champions like me, it's not the other way round. And I'll be the first guy to come out here and admit it, I'm honest. I have never ever done this for any of you. There's superstars and there's nobodies. I am a superstar, you are all nobodies. And I'm a real superstar. Those real superstars, hell, if they're your friends, why don't they come out here and give you the millions and millions of dollars they earn? Why don't they lie in your pockets? 'Cause that's— that's not your position on earth.
or that one?
John Cena, while you lay there hopefully as uncomfortable as you possibly can be, I want you to listen to me. I want you to digest this because before I leave in three weeks with your WWE Championship, I have a lot of things I want to get off my chest. I don't hate you, John. I don't even dislike you. I do like you; I like you a hell lot more than I like most people in the back. I hate this idea that you're the best...because you're not. I'm the best. I'm the best in the world. There's one thing that you're better at than I am, and that's kissing Vince McMahon's ass. You're as good at kissing Vince's ass as Hulk Hogan was. I don't know if you're as good as Dwayne though—he's a pretty good ass-kisser, always was and still is. [Turns to camera and waves] Whoops, I'm breaking the fourth wall.
I am the best wrestler in the world. I've been the best ever since day one when I walked into this company, and I've been vilified and hated since that day because Paul Heyman saw something in me that nobody else wanted to admit. That's right, I'm a Paul Heyman guy. You know who else was a Paul Heyman guy? Brock Lesnar, and he split just like I'm splitting, but the biggest difference between me and Brock is I'm going to leave with the WWE Championship.
I've grabbed so many of Vincent K. McMahon's imaginary brass rings that it's finally dawned on me that they're just that—they're completely imaginary. The only thing that's real is me, and the fact that day in and day out, for almost six years, I've proved to everybody in the world that I'm the best on this microphone, in that ring, even at commentary! Nobody can touch me! And yet no matter how many times I prove it, I'm not on your lovely little collector cups, I'm not on the cover of the program, I'm barely promoted, I don't get to be in movies, I'm certainly not on any crappy show on the USA Network, I'm not on the poster of WrestleMania, I'm not on the signature that's produced at the start of the show! I'm not on Conan O'Brien, I'm not on Jimmy Fallon, but the fact of the matter is I should be; and trust me, this isn't sour grapes, but the fact that Dwayne is in the main event of WrestleMania next year and I'm not makes me sick!
Oh, hey, let me get something straight. Those of you who are cheering me right now, you are just the biggest part of me leaving as anything else, because you're the ones that are sipping out of those collector cups right now; you're the ones that buy those programs that my face isn't on the cover of, and then at 5:00 in the morning at the airport, you try and shove it in my face so you can get an autograph and try to sell it on eBay because you're too lazy to go get a real job!
I'm leaving with the WWE Championship on July 17, and hell, who knows? Maybe I'll go defend it in New Japan Pro Wrestling. Maybe I'll go back to Ring of Honor. Hey, Colt Cabana, how you doing? The reason I'm leaving is you people because after I'm gone, you're still gonna pour money into this company. I'm just a spoke on the wheel, the wheel's gonna keep turning and I understand that. But Vince McMahon's gonna make money despite himself. He's a millionaire who should be a billionaire. You know why he's not a billionaire? It's 'cause he surrounds himself with glad-handing, nonsensical douchebag yes-men like John Laurinaitis who's gonna tell him everything that he wants to hear. And I'd like to think that maybe this company will be better after Vince McMahon's dead, but the fact is it's gonna get taken over by his idiotic daughter and his doofus son-in-law and the rest of his stupid family! Let me tell you a personal story about Vince McMahon. All right. We're doing this whole bullying campaign... |