Subject: I'm not your stepping stone, Mongo Fri May 06, 2011 12:27 am
Thursday, May 5, 2011 Rose Garden Press Room Portland, Oregon 8:00 PM
The press room is packed with reporters. Tim Patrick is scheduled to take part in another Press Conference to help spread the word about his upcoming match and the IWF product. Vice President of Public and Media Relations, Randy Marsh, walks to the podium and addresses the media.
Randy Marsh: Welcome ladies and gentlemen of the press to "Media Day" for IWF here in Portland. I would like to thank each and every one of the people in the city who have been so kind and helpful to all of us this week as we gear up for Battle Grounds on Sunday. We have a very exciting card this week that includes some of our newcomers, a 6 person Inter-gender Tag Team Match, and three Second-Round Tournament matches with some of our top stars, all of which will be under No Disqualification/Hardcore rules. There is no telling what will happen in matches where anything goes, so the fans who come down to the Rose Garden this Sunday night will sure get their money's worth. The Battle for the Briefcase Tournament is heating up, and will continue in the coming weeks with semi-finals and it will be coming to an end at our upcoming Pay Per View, Isolation, with the winner taking home the Championship Briefcase. The man who is about to join us will be taking on up-and-coming star James Macdonald. Ladies and gentlemen, please give a round of applause to a man who is becoming quite the Hardcore legend, "Irish Car Bomb" Tim Patrick!
"Fuck the British Army" by Erie Og begins to play and Tim Patrick walks out wearing all black, looking more serious than he usually does. The members of the press in the room, and IWF suits, all give Patrick a nice round of applause. He shakes Randy Marsh's hand and steps up to the microphone.
Tim Patrick: Thank you, Randy, thank you everybody. I've had a rough week. I feel like I let myself and my fans down by not beating Jason Hawk in the cage last week. So needless to say I spent the beginning of this week getting into bar-fights. Enough talking out of my ass, I'll take the first question.
Reporter 1: Why do you think you lost last week? Were you prepared?
Tim Patrick: Yes, I was prepared. But much like in life, in this business, sometimes things don't go your way. It only takes one mistake to cost yourself a match. But I do have a message for Jason Hawk. One thing about a man like me, Hawk, is when you put a man like me down, when you hurt me, when you beat me, you better bury me 6 feet under and cover me with dirt. If you don't, I'll come back to haunt you someday. And believe me, you are on the IIA's shitlist, and Vincent Van Rose smells blood. Hell, he might want your ass more than I do. And if he wants your title, he'll take it from you. But remember, if he can't, I will.
Reporter 2: You said you've spent the week drinking and getting into fights in public. Are you in any condition to fight a power-house like James Macdonald in a Hardcore match this week?
Tim Patrick: Who? Oh you must mean the bastard love child of Mongo McMichael and Kirstie Alley. Just because I got drunk earlier in the week doesn't mean I can't fight. I'm Irish, I drink and I fight. Macdonald has no idea what he's in for this week.
Reporter 3: Why do you think you're going to have such an advantage over James Macdonald this week. He's been on a hot streak and he's being trained by World Champion Brandon Macdonald.
Tim Patrick: Experience. I've been street fighting since I was 13 years old. If this is a fight with no rules, I have the advantage. If this is a game of grab-ass with 11 other men, he'd have the advantage.
Reporter 4: You seem to not have a lot of respect for football players.
Tim Patrick: That's not true at all. I've been a football fan all my life. I, along with everybody else in Philadelphia, live and die by the Eagles. What I don't have respect for is the fact that every one and a while, some dumb football player gets a wild hair up their ass and they think they can step into the ring and beat somebody who is clearly better than them at fighting. If Mongo Macdonald wants to step into the ring, he should focus on guys like Jaccky Dane. That Battle Royal victory of his was a fluke and he's going to find out that it's harder than it looks to go toe to toe with a guy who is typically towards the top of every card.
Reporter 5: You say you've been street-fighting since you were 13. What could you have possibly be doing at age 13 living in New Jersey?
Tim Patrick: Some kids work at a supermarket. Some kids have a paper route. And some kids sign up for illegal backyard combat. There was a secret fighting group that had their fights in an abandoned barn. It's where I learned to fight. I'm not going to lie, for the first year I got my ass kicked every time. It was only when I was 14 and in high-school did I first start sticking up for myself and others, and believing in myself. I've never stopped believing in myself.
Reporter 6: What do you think of his World Champion brother, Brandon?
Tim Patrick: He's the best in the world at what he does. But until he leaves the Right Honourable Gentlemen, I don't respect him on a personal level. I have time for one more question, make it a good one.
Reporter 7: Do you think your matches in this Tournament are distracting you and your group from your goal of taking out the RHG?
Tim Patrick: Not at all. We do what we're asked to do, business wise. If I'm told to take on Jason Hawk in a cage, that's what I'll do. And like this week, I'm teaming with Connor to take on some new punks to start the show. Consider that a warm up match for later in the night. We're all able to do anything we're asked. But make no mistake, when the time comes at Isolation to take apart the Right Honourable Gentlemen, that's what we'll do.
Mongo, I'm going to show you that pain is a four letter word.
Patrick stands up, shakes hands again with Randy Marsh, and leaves the room. Instead of leaving the arena and getting into a rental car and heading to his hotel like he normally would, he grabs a camera crew and they head down a dark hallway. He opens a Locker Room door with the name "J MACDONALD" on a sign taped to the door. The room is empty, as it's still a few days before the event. Tim opens the only locker in the room, and begins to pee in it. It echos throughout the room as Patrick begins to laugh. After a minute, he finishes, zips up, and turns towards the camera, laughing hysterically with a crazed look on his face and grabs a microphone from a member of the camera crew.
Tim Patrick: I'm tired of playing off like I'm the nice guy always. Yeah, I have fans and I have respect and love for everyone of them. But when it comes to fighting, I'm a very sick man, and I do sick things.
You don't have to be crazy to be a success in Insurgency Wrestling Federation, but it helps. And I'm as crazy as they come in the ring.
Mongo, you're in for the fight of your life. Our match this week, it's a match with no rules. None! There is no integrity in a match with No Rules. I lived years of my life without following any rules. I ain't got no damn integrity! How you think I got so far?! I have knocked out men in Belfast on the streets in-front of their children, and I have spit in the face of death more than I'd like to think about. Macdonald, I am not going to be the man that you make a name for yourself against.
James, I have to tell you how much I respect your brother on a professional level. It wasn't Chuck Matthews, it wasn't Corey Casey that inspired me to come to IWF. It was your older brother. When Nick Ridicule screwed over Brandon Macdonald in NLWF I knew the end of that promotion was nearing and when I saw that Brandon ended up here, I wanted to be here too. But don't get me wrong, I respect him on a professional level, but since he has aligned himself with British bastards, he has forgotten his roots, where he came from, how he got to this level, and quite frankly, he's turned into a bastard himself. But the bastard knows how to fight, he's the best in the world at what he does. And all you are, and all you're ever going to be, is his little brother.
I heard your little promo the other day. "Be a man, Tim. Fight alone. Don't bring out the IIA to fight with you this week." You know what, Mongo, I can't promise you anything. There is something you gotta learn, big man, in this business, shit happens. You're the one who called me out, and I won't be responsible if some of my friends wanna get involed. Have you wondered why I've been trying to form an army? Because my family, apart from pretending to be nice to me on holidays, has no real interest in me. It's been that way for years. I have had to fight to survive since I was a teenager. The IIA, they're my family right now. The fans, they're my family right now.
Let me let you in on a reality check, you muscle-headed idiot, this ain't no football field. You don't have 11 other men wearing helmets and padding to protect your ass. You're only a year younger than I am but oh what a difference a year makes. You see while you were in 8th grade, picking your nose, shitting into a potty chair, and playing on some children's football team and going out to Pizza Hut after every game, I was a Freshman in High-school and I just discovered that I could fight. I just discovered that I could defend myself. And I just discovered that I had what it takes to get it done in a wrestling ring. While you were dancing around your bedroom listening to the Spice Girls, I was bleeding, brawling, and hurting others inside of a very illegal Backyard Wrestling ring. I was hurting bigger guys like you since before you had hair under your arms. I wasn't the biggest kid growing up, but I had guts, and I was fucking nuts, and the bigger kids who played football knew what if they crossed me, I'd hurt them. But make sure your brother knows not to show his face during our match. If he even comes out to be a "guest announcer" and sit near the ring, the Irish Insurgency Army will end him then and there.
Bring a pillow, muscle-head. Because you'll be dreaming of football games when I hit the Detonator, and when you wake up, you'll realize that you're in over your head in this business.
And you'll realize that you'll never, ever, be able to beat the Irish.
Subject: I'm not your stepping stone, Mongo 
Fri May 06, 2011 12:27 am
