Post by Deleted on Mar 15, 2015 13:34:26 GMT -6
(A car wreck in the middle of the road. A medical van is overturned, smashed and broken, empty save for debris and equipment strewn everywhere. Outside, a Lexus is parked on the other side, it’s lights on illuminating the road.
Nearby, a man dressed in a navy suit, torn and bloodied, is dragging an unconscious body over to the car. He drops the body to the ground and takes a moment to breath in fresh air. He smiles widely and wipes the sweat off of his brow, wiping off some of his clown-like makeup and dried blood as he does so.
Avon Deeds.
From the other side of the Lexus, a woman appears, dressed in jeans, black boots and a black corset-like top. Her hair is dyed jet black, her eyes surrounded with black makeup and black lips.
Izzy Cole. She smiles at Avon.)
Cole: How do I look?
(Avon smiles back at her.)
Deeds: Pretty damn good, kiddo.
(She looks down at the body on the ground. It’s Avon’s doctor, Jeremy Brahms, unconscious and battered from the car accident. She sneers down at him, crouching down to look at him.)
Cole: I oughta rip his heart out after all he’s done to me.
Deeds: Now, now, my little Izzy Cole, that’s not what we’re here for. Stick to what I told you and then you’ll get to have your fun, got it?
Cole: …Fine.
Deeds: Did you bring the girl?
(Izzy looks at Avon with a smile, gets up off of the ground and opens the passenger door.)
Cole: Ta-da!
(Inside is Trisha, unconscious and tied up. Avon looks at her with a long look.)
Deeds: Good job, Izzy. Let her go.
(Izzy turns to look at Avon with a confused look.)
Cole: Let her go?!
Deeds: Yup. We don’t need her anymore.
Cole: What do you mean?
Deeds: Well, it turns out that after all I’ve done, after all that’s been happening.
Cole: You mean she wasn’t a jumped-up little cow who cares more about herself than anyone else?
Deeds: Oh no, that’s still true, and I proved that tonight. But she wasn’t the one who went around sending those letters. That part I got wrong.
Cole: No way! Did you find out who it really was?
(Avon turns to Izzy and smiles happily at her.)
Deeds: Oh yes indeed. And I have to tell you, I was a little shocked. See, it happened to be someone who I was quite acquainted with, little Izzy. She was someone who would always hound at me for interviews and keep on questioning me about where I’m from and who I am. I guess someone…
(He looks down at Brahms, still out on the floor.)
Deeds: Promised her more than she could bargain for. Sandra Adams. Former Texas reporter Sandra Adams. Now she’s on the run, and now, Izzy, now it’s time for the chase.
(He turns to look at Izzy. She’s looking down at the ground, a smile on her face. Avon crouches to meet her gaze.)
Deeds: What’re you smiling about?
(She looks at him and says nothing. She slowly makes her way round to the boot of the car and stands in front of it.)
Cole: No need for any chasing, Avon.
(She opens the boot and gestures for Avon to look inside. Avon makes his way round and looks in. A wide smile appears on his face accompanied by a giggle. Inside the boot, her hands and feet bound and mouth gagged, is former texas reporter Sandra Adams. She looks up and sees the two, her screaming muffled as she stares up at them. Avon turns to look at Izzy.)
Deeds: Izzy Cole, you are without doubt an absolute blessing.
(She giggles and plays with her hair as Avon looks back down at Sandra.)
Deeds: Sandra Adams. Good to see you. I think it’s safe to say that we have a lot to talk about.
(Sandra screams again, but no one will be able to hear her. Avon looks back at Izzy.)
Deeds: I guess this is where I ask you how you managed to find her, but I can live without knowing. Now, let’s get going. We got a lot of work to do.
(Avon and Izzy smile at each other before Avon grabs the boot door and slams it shut.)
The camera shot comes in on the large grey building of the Albano-Williams Complex, the training center started by Avon Deeds. The shot goes through the door, and pans around about ten young grapplers working on the mats. The camera then goes to a door that is half open, and upon entering we see Avon Deeds in a dark black suit sitting with his hands together looking directly at the camera.
Whenever a new talent goes to work for a new company, you usually see him in his first act come out and talk. And talk. And talk. He wants to TELL you how great he is, and TELL you how awesome he is, and TELL you what he is going to do in the coming weeks and months. That is the act of a paper tiger, someone who is trying to project and try and fool everyone into thinking he is something more than just some no-name punk who doesn't have a chance in high holy Hell of being anyone in this business.
Instead of talking, I'll made a real statement. I'll came out, and took two of these up and comers and make them look like a couple of skirt wearing pussies. That's how you make a debut, you don't talk and tell people, you show them. You clean house, and you make sure that you leave no doubt you are here to stay and that you are no paper tiger. When I got the call from George and Craig, the same men that gave me my best formal training and who I partially owe my success too, that said they had seen this legendary company and they wanted to come and show everyone who I was, I started planning. When they found out they had a match against two shoe cleaners, sure it's my debute but the principle was the same. Make an impact, kick some ass, and show just exactly what the rest of this company needs to fear in the time ahead. That's exactly what I'll do, but the time at looking in the past is done. Like a prosecuting attorney, I've made my powerful opening statement and now it's time to provide the evidence.
Deeds takes a second, and stands up. His imposing frame looms over the mahogany desk, and he places both hands forcefully on the desk staring directly into the camera with a look of passion in his eyes.
In this great poker game of wrestling, I've been dealt Scarlet and Greg Clark to start off my NEW career with. Scarlet, A so-called Master of S.K.O, please. The only way anyone would give Scarlet the title of master of something is if he or she was really pissed off and wanted to make a joke of someone. Yes, you beat Dasha last week, I can't deny you that because it happened. But Hell, beating Dasha in a wrestling match is as simple as beating a one legged man in an ass kicking competition. Anyone can do it. Scarlet, you are probably riding high off your "grand victory" last week, but you best climb off that horse because it will do you no good in the ring with me. Here, let me show you something.
Avon walks over off camera, and comes back holding the Texas Championship in his hand. He lays it across the desk in full view of the camera.
You are dealing with no ordinary wrestling star. I am the current Texas Champion, and I didn't come by this title by finding it in the garbage, sleeping with the CEO's daughter.. Or even marrying into the family, or sitting around with my thumb up my ass. I WORKED FOR IT! I bled, I sweated, I worked my ass off. Countless hours on the mat, countless hours running and lifting and watching film of my opponents. This title is the symbol of my dedication, and I did not come to NEW to let some cocksure, Gift from God spouting asshole beat me because he gets one win over wannabe two bit spare!Scarlet , you want to say fear is lack of experience. Well I got some bad news for you, because in the words of the great Johnny Cash "I've been everywhere man." I've fought in cages, with ladders, through tables. I've debilitated men and women for three and ten counts, made people bleed, and been the last man standing to get where I am. You are stepping into a whole new galaxy when you go in the ring against me. My bark is one thing, but my bite is that of the hungry alligator on the poor defenseless zebra.
The fact remains, I don't give a damn what these fans think of me or what you think of me for that matter. I care about one thing and solely one thing, coming out of every match I compete in the victor. I will use any weapon, use any tactic, as long as the three count swerves my way. When that Cole rings, and that match starts, you will understand. You can't understand now, but you will. Scarlet you may be a "Master of the S.K.O", but not even selling your soul to Satan himself will assure you a victory at Ignite.
Avon reveals a smirk and then a chuckle then continues to speak.
Now we go from Beauty to the Beast. Greg Clark. A man who is close to seven foot. A man who uses his muscles to do everything for him since clearly he has no brains since he is going to be in this very ring with me. Yes, he has the size, weight and strength advantage over me but what he doesn't have is brains. He may think he does, but look at him. Do you really think he knows what the hell he is doing without his "boys" holding his hands and feeding him his food, and pushing him his pills?
What’s the matter, Greg? Truth Hurts? You feel the need to big yourself up more than what you are? You feel like you have to show the whole world that you really are some kind of specimen when all the while you’re just blowing hot air? You know what you remind me of? A school yard bully. Not in the sense that you had respect or authority, ohhhh no. In the sense that you felt the need to make yourself something out of nothing, fooling yourself into believing that you’re respected and idolized when in actual fact everyone is talking behind your back. Talking about how you’re nothing but a counterfeit. Talking about how you’re a fake trying to fit in with the cool crowd and not realizing how miserable your failings are.
And I’m one of those people, Greg, but with a difference. I don’t talk behind your back. I talk straight to you, right to your face, and I ain’t afraid of doing so. I will never speak of greatness about you, because I don’t like to dirty my words with filthy lies. I would never lower myself to doing what you do, trying to act like the big man when deep down you’re just a little boy lost in a man’s world. I’m beyond such pathetic actions because I know, and deep down inside you know as well, that I don’t need to do such things in order to gain respect.
But you’re right about one thing, I’ll give you that. No one will care much if I beat you. I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t. But not for the reasons you state. Not over something so trivial as ‘reputation’. No one will care much if I beat you, Clark, simply because no one cares about YOU. They don’t care about your past, they don’t care about how apparently impressive you are, they don’t care about what you intend to do here. They simply don’t care about you. They’ll be happy to see you lose, and even more happy to see you gone. You’ve made an impression alright. Maybe you should’ve stuck to the line I suggested instead of making yourself look like the fool you really are.
Whether you like it or not, Greg, we are crossing paths, and I for one am exceedingly happy that I’m the one to block it first. Why? Because I’m not curious anymore. I know now what kind of person you are, and what impression you’ve left on me. You talk about making peace with myself and heading down the wrong path? Maybe you should take a look in the mirror you so idolize, Clark. Maybe then you’ll see yourself for what you really are. Maybe then you’ll think it might be best to get off the path whilst you still can. I’m giving you a lifeline here, Clark. Get a chance to see the real you. I did that once a long time ago, and look where I am now!
Avon gives one final longing stare at the camera, and the shot fades to black with Avon sitting back down in his chair.
Nearby, a man dressed in a navy suit, torn and bloodied, is dragging an unconscious body over to the car. He drops the body to the ground and takes a moment to breath in fresh air. He smiles widely and wipes the sweat off of his brow, wiping off some of his clown-like makeup and dried blood as he does so.
Avon Deeds.
From the other side of the Lexus, a woman appears, dressed in jeans, black boots and a black corset-like top. Her hair is dyed jet black, her eyes surrounded with black makeup and black lips.
Izzy Cole. She smiles at Avon.)
Cole: How do I look?
(Avon smiles back at her.)
Deeds: Pretty damn good, kiddo.
(She looks down at the body on the ground. It’s Avon’s doctor, Jeremy Brahms, unconscious and battered from the car accident. She sneers down at him, crouching down to look at him.)
Cole: I oughta rip his heart out after all he’s done to me.
Deeds: Now, now, my little Izzy Cole, that’s not what we’re here for. Stick to what I told you and then you’ll get to have your fun, got it?
Cole: …Fine.
Deeds: Did you bring the girl?
(Izzy looks at Avon with a smile, gets up off of the ground and opens the passenger door.)
Cole: Ta-da!
(Inside is Trisha, unconscious and tied up. Avon looks at her with a long look.)
Deeds: Good job, Izzy. Let her go.
(Izzy turns to look at Avon with a confused look.)
Cole: Let her go?!
Deeds: Yup. We don’t need her anymore.
Cole: What do you mean?
Deeds: Well, it turns out that after all I’ve done, after all that’s been happening.
Cole: You mean she wasn’t a jumped-up little cow who cares more about herself than anyone else?
Deeds: Oh no, that’s still true, and I proved that tonight. But she wasn’t the one who went around sending those letters. That part I got wrong.
Cole: No way! Did you find out who it really was?
(Avon turns to Izzy and smiles happily at her.)
Deeds: Oh yes indeed. And I have to tell you, I was a little shocked. See, it happened to be someone who I was quite acquainted with, little Izzy. She was someone who would always hound at me for interviews and keep on questioning me about where I’m from and who I am. I guess someone…
(He looks down at Brahms, still out on the floor.)
Deeds: Promised her more than she could bargain for. Sandra Adams. Former Texas reporter Sandra Adams. Now she’s on the run, and now, Izzy, now it’s time for the chase.
(He turns to look at Izzy. She’s looking down at the ground, a smile on her face. Avon crouches to meet her gaze.)
Deeds: What’re you smiling about?
(She looks at him and says nothing. She slowly makes her way round to the boot of the car and stands in front of it.)
Cole: No need for any chasing, Avon.
(She opens the boot and gestures for Avon to look inside. Avon makes his way round and looks in. A wide smile appears on his face accompanied by a giggle. Inside the boot, her hands and feet bound and mouth gagged, is former texas reporter Sandra Adams. She looks up and sees the two, her screaming muffled as she stares up at them. Avon turns to look at Izzy.)
Deeds: Izzy Cole, you are without doubt an absolute blessing.
(She giggles and plays with her hair as Avon looks back down at Sandra.)
Deeds: Sandra Adams. Good to see you. I think it’s safe to say that we have a lot to talk about.
(Sandra screams again, but no one will be able to hear her. Avon looks back at Izzy.)
Deeds: I guess this is where I ask you how you managed to find her, but I can live without knowing. Now, let’s get going. We got a lot of work to do.
(Avon and Izzy smile at each other before Avon grabs the boot door and slams it shut.)
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The camera shot comes in on the large grey building of the Albano-Williams Complex, the training center started by Avon Deeds. The shot goes through the door, and pans around about ten young grapplers working on the mats. The camera then goes to a door that is half open, and upon entering we see Avon Deeds in a dark black suit sitting with his hands together looking directly at the camera.
Whenever a new talent goes to work for a new company, you usually see him in his first act come out and talk. And talk. And talk. He wants to TELL you how great he is, and TELL you how awesome he is, and TELL you what he is going to do in the coming weeks and months. That is the act of a paper tiger, someone who is trying to project and try and fool everyone into thinking he is something more than just some no-name punk who doesn't have a chance in high holy Hell of being anyone in this business.
Instead of talking, I'll made a real statement. I'll came out, and took two of these up and comers and make them look like a couple of skirt wearing pussies. That's how you make a debut, you don't talk and tell people, you show them. You clean house, and you make sure that you leave no doubt you are here to stay and that you are no paper tiger. When I got the call from George and Craig, the same men that gave me my best formal training and who I partially owe my success too, that said they had seen this legendary company and they wanted to come and show everyone who I was, I started planning. When they found out they had a match against two shoe cleaners, sure it's my debute but the principle was the same. Make an impact, kick some ass, and show just exactly what the rest of this company needs to fear in the time ahead. That's exactly what I'll do, but the time at looking in the past is done. Like a prosecuting attorney, I've made my powerful opening statement and now it's time to provide the evidence.
Deeds takes a second, and stands up. His imposing frame looms over the mahogany desk, and he places both hands forcefully on the desk staring directly into the camera with a look of passion in his eyes.
In this great poker game of wrestling, I've been dealt Scarlet and Greg Clark to start off my NEW career with. Scarlet, A so-called Master of S.K.O, please. The only way anyone would give Scarlet the title of master of something is if he or she was really pissed off and wanted to make a joke of someone. Yes, you beat Dasha last week, I can't deny you that because it happened. But Hell, beating Dasha in a wrestling match is as simple as beating a one legged man in an ass kicking competition. Anyone can do it. Scarlet, you are probably riding high off your "grand victory" last week, but you best climb off that horse because it will do you no good in the ring with me. Here, let me show you something.
Avon walks over off camera, and comes back holding the Texas Championship in his hand. He lays it across the desk in full view of the camera.
You are dealing with no ordinary wrestling star. I am the current Texas Champion, and I didn't come by this title by finding it in the garbage, sleeping with the CEO's daughter.. Or even marrying into the family, or sitting around with my thumb up my ass. I WORKED FOR IT! I bled, I sweated, I worked my ass off. Countless hours on the mat, countless hours running and lifting and watching film of my opponents. This title is the symbol of my dedication, and I did not come to NEW to let some cocksure, Gift from God spouting asshole beat me because he gets one win over wannabe two bit spare!Scarlet , you want to say fear is lack of experience. Well I got some bad news for you, because in the words of the great Johnny Cash "I've been everywhere man." I've fought in cages, with ladders, through tables. I've debilitated men and women for three and ten counts, made people bleed, and been the last man standing to get where I am. You are stepping into a whole new galaxy when you go in the ring against me. My bark is one thing, but my bite is that of the hungry alligator on the poor defenseless zebra.
The fact remains, I don't give a damn what these fans think of me or what you think of me for that matter. I care about one thing and solely one thing, coming out of every match I compete in the victor. I will use any weapon, use any tactic, as long as the three count swerves my way. When that Cole rings, and that match starts, you will understand. You can't understand now, but you will. Scarlet you may be a "Master of the S.K.O", but not even selling your soul to Satan himself will assure you a victory at Ignite.
Avon reveals a smirk and then a chuckle then continues to speak.
Now we go from Beauty to the Beast. Greg Clark. A man who is close to seven foot. A man who uses his muscles to do everything for him since clearly he has no brains since he is going to be in this very ring with me. Yes, he has the size, weight and strength advantage over me but what he doesn't have is brains. He may think he does, but look at him. Do you really think he knows what the hell he is doing without his "boys" holding his hands and feeding him his food, and pushing him his pills?
What’s the matter, Greg? Truth Hurts? You feel the need to big yourself up more than what you are? You feel like you have to show the whole world that you really are some kind of specimen when all the while you’re just blowing hot air? You know what you remind me of? A school yard bully. Not in the sense that you had respect or authority, ohhhh no. In the sense that you felt the need to make yourself something out of nothing, fooling yourself into believing that you’re respected and idolized when in actual fact everyone is talking behind your back. Talking about how you’re nothing but a counterfeit. Talking about how you’re a fake trying to fit in with the cool crowd and not realizing how miserable your failings are.
And I’m one of those people, Greg, but with a difference. I don’t talk behind your back. I talk straight to you, right to your face, and I ain’t afraid of doing so. I will never speak of greatness about you, because I don’t like to dirty my words with filthy lies. I would never lower myself to doing what you do, trying to act like the big man when deep down you’re just a little boy lost in a man’s world. I’m beyond such pathetic actions because I know, and deep down inside you know as well, that I don’t need to do such things in order to gain respect.
But you’re right about one thing, I’ll give you that. No one will care much if I beat you. I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t. But not for the reasons you state. Not over something so trivial as ‘reputation’. No one will care much if I beat you, Clark, simply because no one cares about YOU. They don’t care about your past, they don’t care about how apparently impressive you are, they don’t care about what you intend to do here. They simply don’t care about you. They’ll be happy to see you lose, and even more happy to see you gone. You’ve made an impression alright. Maybe you should’ve stuck to the line I suggested instead of making yourself look like the fool you really are.
Whether you like it or not, Greg, we are crossing paths, and I for one am exceedingly happy that I’m the one to block it first. Why? Because I’m not curious anymore. I know now what kind of person you are, and what impression you’ve left on me. You talk about making peace with myself and heading down the wrong path? Maybe you should take a look in the mirror you so idolize, Clark. Maybe then you’ll see yourself for what you really are. Maybe then you’ll think it might be best to get off the path whilst you still can. I’m giving you a lifeline here, Clark. Get a chance to see the real you. I did that once a long time ago, and look where I am now!
Avon gives one final longing stare at the camera, and the shot fades to black with Avon sitting back down in his chair.