Post by Deleted on Feb 5, 2012 14:29:54 GMT -5
The scene opens up with Jay Price in the middle of one of his strenuous workout sessions: passed out in a La-Z-Boy with an empty bottle of Bacardi 151 in his lap and a porno playing on the television. He shuffles in the chair, causing the bottle to fall from his lap to the floor, breaking in the process. The sound of the glass shattering breaks him from his slumber. He rubs his eyes and stretches out in the chair as he looks around.
Jay Price: What the hell...?
Price quickly realizes that this is not his house. The rows of couches, loveseats and armchairs, coupled with the banners hanging from the ceiling strongly suggest that he's once again passed out inside of a furniture store. Several customers are standing off to the side, whispering amongst themselves as employees are huddled together trying to figure out how to handle the situation. One of them is on a phone, presumably with the authorities. Price pushes himself up out of the chair and tries to solve his first of many dilemmas: the location of his pants. As he searches, one of the employees finally walks up to him.
Employee: Sir...okay really what the hell are you doing?
Jay Price: At the moment? Searching for my pants.
Price goes back to searching as the employee can only look on in disbelief. He finally spots them, draped over the back of a loveseat. He pulls them on and then notices the woman passed out on the floor nearby.
Employee: I take it she's with you?
Jay Price: Never saw that bitch before in my life.
Price slips on his shoes and makes for the door, with the employee right behind him.
Employee: Sir I'm going to need you to stick around. The authorities have already been called and are on their way.
Jay Price: Yeah? Well they'll know where to find me.
Price pushes the door open and walks outside where he is quickly greeted by his oldest enemy, the sun. He searches for his sunglasses but can't find them. Muttering to himself he makes his way to his car when ol' reliable Hank Brown shouts out his name.
Hank Brown: Jay! JAY!
As Price sticks the key into the door lock, Hank runs up beside him. He looks over at the store Price just came out of.
Hank Brown: Fancy running into you out here. What are you up to?
Jay Price: Uh...looking at couches.
Hank Brown: Oh, sounds fun. Well I was just going to call you up a little later on, but since you're here now I suppose we can talk about tonight.
Price nervously looks around for signs of the cops.
Jay Price: Yeah, sure. Just make it quick all right.
Hank Brown: Fair enough. Well at Payback Buzzsaw Bundy issued an open challenge to the entire locker room, a challenge which you accepted. I highly doubt Buzzsaw expected someone of your caliber to step up, and I myself have to wonder what made you do it.
Jay Price: It was simple Hank. I had already been told that I was going to be left off the show this week, so rather than miss out on a paycheck I figured I'd take Buzzsaw up on his little challenge and make an easy buck.
Hank Brown: I don't know if I would call Buzzsaw a pushover.
Jay Price: Pushover. Hack. Has been. Never was. Vagina with legs. Throw any label you want on him Hank, but at the end of the day he's nothing more than other poor son of a bitch who's going to feel the harsh embrace of losing.
Hank Brown: I really feel like you're underestimating...
Jay Price: Underestimating what? The sheer magnitude of how ridiculous it is that so many people believe that just because someone is nearly seven foot tall, or around four hundred pounds, that automatically classifies them as an unstoppable monster? If that were true then there would be no professional wrestling left in the world. If nobody could take down one of these "monsters" then they would be running every major promotion, holding every title and just doing what they wanted. But the fact of the matter is, none of them are shit. All they are is the same talentless pieces of shit as everyone else, just bigger. Last week it was Deonte Lane, this week it'll be Buzzsaw Bundy. And next week? It'll be the next wannabe Andre thinking he can dominate, only to find himself face down in a warm pool of blood.
The door to the furniture store is pushed open as the unconscious woman from earlier stumbles out. She spots Price standing across the street.
Woman: Hey! Where's my money?
Jay Price: Err...HE'S GOT IT!
Price grabs Hank and pushes him toward the woman. Hank stumbles to the ground at her feet as Price turns toward the cameraman.
Jay Price: Get in!
Price hops in the driver's seat as the cameraman climbs in the back. Price throws the car in drive and speeds off.
Jay Price: Let me clear up something else while you're still rolling. Seth Lerch, you really think you're something huh? Cutting my music for "budget concerns"? That was cute. What, you think I need entrance music to be the best talent in WCF? I mean I'm sure you thought you were really sticking it to me, but the fact of the matter is it was nothing but another show of desperation on your part. It's obvious that you're trying to drive me away from WCF. You know what I can bring to the table and your scared to death knowing what's going to happen when I get my hands on you.
Cameraman: And why haven't you gotten your hands on him yet?
Jay Price: Showmanship my good friend. Taking out Seth on day one would have been fun, but it's more amusing watching him squirm in anticipation as he's forced to wonder when I'm going to strike. Am I going to attack him in the parking lot when he's trying to leave the building? Am I going to lie in wait and attack him in his own home? It keeps things interesting, you know.
The cameraman nods in agreement.
Jay Price: Now then, what's say you and I hit up a strip club?
Jay Price: What the hell...?
Price quickly realizes that this is not his house. The rows of couches, loveseats and armchairs, coupled with the banners hanging from the ceiling strongly suggest that he's once again passed out inside of a furniture store. Several customers are standing off to the side, whispering amongst themselves as employees are huddled together trying to figure out how to handle the situation. One of them is on a phone, presumably with the authorities. Price pushes himself up out of the chair and tries to solve his first of many dilemmas: the location of his pants. As he searches, one of the employees finally walks up to him.
Employee: Sir...okay really what the hell are you doing?
Jay Price: At the moment? Searching for my pants.
Price goes back to searching as the employee can only look on in disbelief. He finally spots them, draped over the back of a loveseat. He pulls them on and then notices the woman passed out on the floor nearby.
Employee: I take it she's with you?
Jay Price: Never saw that bitch before in my life.
Price slips on his shoes and makes for the door, with the employee right behind him.
Employee: Sir I'm going to need you to stick around. The authorities have already been called and are on their way.
Jay Price: Yeah? Well they'll know where to find me.
Price pushes the door open and walks outside where he is quickly greeted by his oldest enemy, the sun. He searches for his sunglasses but can't find them. Muttering to himself he makes his way to his car when ol' reliable Hank Brown shouts out his name.
Hank Brown: Jay! JAY!
As Price sticks the key into the door lock, Hank runs up beside him. He looks over at the store Price just came out of.
Hank Brown: Fancy running into you out here. What are you up to?
Jay Price: Uh...looking at couches.
Hank Brown: Oh, sounds fun. Well I was just going to call you up a little later on, but since you're here now I suppose we can talk about tonight.
Price nervously looks around for signs of the cops.
Jay Price: Yeah, sure. Just make it quick all right.
Hank Brown: Fair enough. Well at Payback Buzzsaw Bundy issued an open challenge to the entire locker room, a challenge which you accepted. I highly doubt Buzzsaw expected someone of your caliber to step up, and I myself have to wonder what made you do it.
Jay Price: It was simple Hank. I had already been told that I was going to be left off the show this week, so rather than miss out on a paycheck I figured I'd take Buzzsaw up on his little challenge and make an easy buck.
Hank Brown: I don't know if I would call Buzzsaw a pushover.
Jay Price: Pushover. Hack. Has been. Never was. Vagina with legs. Throw any label you want on him Hank, but at the end of the day he's nothing more than other poor son of a bitch who's going to feel the harsh embrace of losing.
Hank Brown: I really feel like you're underestimating...
Jay Price: Underestimating what? The sheer magnitude of how ridiculous it is that so many people believe that just because someone is nearly seven foot tall, or around four hundred pounds, that automatically classifies them as an unstoppable monster? If that were true then there would be no professional wrestling left in the world. If nobody could take down one of these "monsters" then they would be running every major promotion, holding every title and just doing what they wanted. But the fact of the matter is, none of them are shit. All they are is the same talentless pieces of shit as everyone else, just bigger. Last week it was Deonte Lane, this week it'll be Buzzsaw Bundy. And next week? It'll be the next wannabe Andre thinking he can dominate, only to find himself face down in a warm pool of blood.
The door to the furniture store is pushed open as the unconscious woman from earlier stumbles out. She spots Price standing across the street.
Woman: Hey! Where's my money?
Jay Price: Err...HE'S GOT IT!
Price grabs Hank and pushes him toward the woman. Hank stumbles to the ground at her feet as Price turns toward the cameraman.
Jay Price: Get in!
Price hops in the driver's seat as the cameraman climbs in the back. Price throws the car in drive and speeds off.
Jay Price: Let me clear up something else while you're still rolling. Seth Lerch, you really think you're something huh? Cutting my music for "budget concerns"? That was cute. What, you think I need entrance music to be the best talent in WCF? I mean I'm sure you thought you were really sticking it to me, but the fact of the matter is it was nothing but another show of desperation on your part. It's obvious that you're trying to drive me away from WCF. You know what I can bring to the table and your scared to death knowing what's going to happen when I get my hands on you.
Cameraman: And why haven't you gotten your hands on him yet?
Jay Price: Showmanship my good friend. Taking out Seth on day one would have been fun, but it's more amusing watching him squirm in anticipation as he's forced to wonder when I'm going to strike. Am I going to attack him in the parking lot when he's trying to leave the building? Am I going to lie in wait and attack him in his own home? It keeps things interesting, you know.
The cameraman nods in agreement.
Jay Price: Now then, what's say you and I hit up a strip club?
