Post by Damon Graves on Jun 4, 2024 18:27:32 GMT -5
June 3rd, 2024
Palos Verdes, California
Undisclosed time of day
Scene opens with a shot of a large computer monitor. It suddenly comes to life with an obviously AI-generated version of Florida Wrestling Prestige competitor Damon Graves.
AI Damon: AT THE UPCOMING SKY-ON IN DESTIN FLORIDA, I WILL FACE KELSI ROSS AND SOUNDLY DEFEAT HER BECAUSE I AM A VETERAN WRESTLER AND SHE CAN NOT OVER-
From out of frame, a heavily tattooed hand comes into view and taps a key off-screen, pausing the clip. The camera pans over to show the real Damon Graves sitting on the edge of his desk. He folds his arms.
Damon: Ain’t it cool what you can do with computers these days? With a few keystrokes, you can make a virtual version of yourself that can do almost anything…
He stands up.
Damon: But what this avatar CAN’T do is step inside the ring and win matches for me. THAT requires good old-fashioned effort on my part, I gotta say, it’s one of the fun parts of my job.
Damon reaches for the mouse on his computer rig and closes out the clip of “Damon Graves”.
Damon: Kelsi, one of the things I was taught is that you need to research your opponents as much as possible. Otherwise, you’re flying blind, and that’s a recipe for disaster.
So, doing my due diligence, I tried to find out whatever information I could that would be useful to me. In my “investigations”, I found out that we have a few similarities.
One, we’re both business owners outside of the wrestling industry. Granted, that’s not as uncommon as it used to be. After all, some of us need other outlets for our energy besides the squared circle. Me, I own a tattoo shop. You co-own a whor-, er, house of ill repute.
Two, both of us are married to spouses that are also in the business. However, my wife can hold her own in the ring, while yours… can hold a purse.
Lastly, both of us are returning to the ring after a bit of time away. We both have something to prove, right? Can we compete in this business as it stands today, or are we “relics” of days best left in the past?
I’m not gonna question your motives, because seriously, I couldn’t care less. My motives are clear as crystal. My wife and I still have a lot of fuel left in our tanks, so we wanna show that we can hang with whatever and whoever the wrestling industry wants to throw at us.
The difference between this match and my last match is that I don't have to hold back. Stella Basch is practically family, so I certainly wasn’t going to go full ham on her. I wasn’t taking it easy on her, per se, but I wasn’t using EVERYTHING in my arsenal. You, on the other hand, I don’t give two shits about. To me, you’re another in a long line of lip-flapping dipshits who wanna talk tough, but just don’t have the stuff to back it up.
So, when we get to Destin, FL, tell Dr. Mrs. Ding Dong to pack some ice and some painkillers in her purse, because I’m gonna make sure that your night is long and unpleasant. So don’t think about championship belts and all that; think about how much medical care wifey-poo is gonna be giving you.
The closest you’re getting to the Prestige Championship is staring at it when it’s around MY waist…
Scene fades to black.
Palos Verdes, California
Undisclosed time of day
Scene opens with a shot of a large computer monitor. It suddenly comes to life with an obviously AI-generated version of Florida Wrestling Prestige competitor Damon Graves.
AI Damon: AT THE UPCOMING SKY-ON IN DESTIN FLORIDA, I WILL FACE KELSI ROSS AND SOUNDLY DEFEAT HER BECAUSE I AM A VETERAN WRESTLER AND SHE CAN NOT OVER-
From out of frame, a heavily tattooed hand comes into view and taps a key off-screen, pausing the clip. The camera pans over to show the real Damon Graves sitting on the edge of his desk. He folds his arms.
Damon: Ain’t it cool what you can do with computers these days? With a few keystrokes, you can make a virtual version of yourself that can do almost anything…
He stands up.
Damon: But what this avatar CAN’T do is step inside the ring and win matches for me. THAT requires good old-fashioned effort on my part, I gotta say, it’s one of the fun parts of my job.
Damon reaches for the mouse on his computer rig and closes out the clip of “Damon Graves”.
Damon: Kelsi, one of the things I was taught is that you need to research your opponents as much as possible. Otherwise, you’re flying blind, and that’s a recipe for disaster.
So, doing my due diligence, I tried to find out whatever information I could that would be useful to me. In my “investigations”, I found out that we have a few similarities.
One, we’re both business owners outside of the wrestling industry. Granted, that’s not as uncommon as it used to be. After all, some of us need other outlets for our energy besides the squared circle. Me, I own a tattoo shop. You co-own a whor-, er, house of ill repute.
Two, both of us are married to spouses that are also in the business. However, my wife can hold her own in the ring, while yours… can hold a purse.
Lastly, both of us are returning to the ring after a bit of time away. We both have something to prove, right? Can we compete in this business as it stands today, or are we “relics” of days best left in the past?
I’m not gonna question your motives, because seriously, I couldn’t care less. My motives are clear as crystal. My wife and I still have a lot of fuel left in our tanks, so we wanna show that we can hang with whatever and whoever the wrestling industry wants to throw at us.
The difference between this match and my last match is that I don't have to hold back. Stella Basch is practically family, so I certainly wasn’t going to go full ham on her. I wasn’t taking it easy on her, per se, but I wasn’t using EVERYTHING in my arsenal. You, on the other hand, I don’t give two shits about. To me, you’re another in a long line of lip-flapping dipshits who wanna talk tough, but just don’t have the stuff to back it up.
So, when we get to Destin, FL, tell Dr. Mrs. Ding Dong to pack some ice and some painkillers in her purse, because I’m gonna make sure that your night is long and unpleasant. So don’t think about championship belts and all that; think about how much medical care wifey-poo is gonna be giving you.
The closest you’re getting to the Prestige Championship is staring at it when it’s around MY waist…
Scene fades to black.
