Post by Deleted on Jan 12, 2014 17:36:28 GMT -5
January 12th, 2014
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Late Afternoon
The scene opens with a shot of Jayson Price, casually relaxing in an armchair beside a roaring fire as he stares at the gloomy Philadelphia sky outside. Storm clouds hang high in the air as a light drizzle begins. He reaches to the table beside him and picks up a small glass of whiskey as the fire crackles. As he takes a slow sip of his drink, his mind wanders to a number of things. WCF Management still not happy with his little macabre display at One. PETA threatening protests and lawsuits over the death of a seagull. The city of Philadelphia threatening to take down the tower due to some obscure ordinances. And that's just the shit that has come up in the last month. But still, despite all the fucks that Jayson Price should be giving at this moment, he seems quite content enjoying his drink by the fire as he watches the storm. The sound of a door opening at the other end of the condo can be heard, followed by footsteps in the hall.
Jayson Price: "I do hope for your sake that you remembered to take off your shoes."
The footsteps stop and then grow distant as they head the other way. Price shakes his head and takes another sip of his drink as the drizzle of rain grows harder and the wind begins to pick up. Softer steps can be heard coming back down the hall as Cameraman Bob walks into the living room. He starts to reach for a lamp.
Jayson Price: "Leave it off."
Cameraman Bob: "All right, but I thought you'd want to see this."
Jayson Price: "Right now the only thing I want to see is this glass in my hand get refilled."
Price finishes off his drink and then dangles the glass in the air to his side.
Cameraman Bob: "The last time I checked I was a cameraman, not your butler."
Jayson Price: "Yeah and the last time I checked I wasn't the kind of person that asked twice."
Bob shakes his head and lets out a sigh as Price continues to hold the glass out to the side. Finally Bob walks over to where Price is sitting. He reaches for the glass when Price lets the glass drop. It hits the hardwood floor and shatters into thousands of tiny little pieces.
Jayson Price: "Whoops, must of slipped. Why don't you go ahead and take care of that too."
Bob stares at Price, who continues to stare ahead at the window at the outside sky. He turns to leave to get a broom when Price grabs hold of his arm.
Jayson Price: "And where are you going?"
Cameraman Bob: "To get a broom."
Jayson Price: "No need, your hands should do the job just fine."
Cameraman Bob: "You're joking?"
Jayson Price: "No. But would you like to hear a joke?"
Bob doesn't answer, instead he just stands there looking down at the glass on the floor and back up at Price.
Cameraman Bob: "Yeah, I'm getting a broom."
Bob pulls his arm free and turns to walk away when Price pushes himself out of his chair and grabs Bob by the back of his shirt. Price uses all his strength to yank Bob backward and lets him fall hard onto the wood floor.
Cameraman Bob: "Hey! The fuc-"
Price now grabbing Bob by his hair and pulling him back to the side of the chair.
Jayson Price: "When I tell you to do something, you do it. I don't know who you think you are Bob, but you are not in a position to do whatever you want."
Price drops to his knees and pushes the side of Bob's head to the ground, grinding his cheek into the broken glass on the floor. Bob screams out in pain as Price smiles. He reaches over and grabs one of the bigger shards nearby.
Jayson Price: "Now what's going to happen here is you're going to take this here shard of glass, stick it in your mouth and eat it. And then you're going to clean up the rest of this shit with your hands and not bitch about it. And if I find one piece of glass, even one tiny little piece, I'm going to beat you until you throw up this little shard of glass and then make you eat it again. Do you feel me Bob?"
Bob merely cries in pain as Price presses the tip of the broken shard into his cheek.
Jayson Price: "I said..."
Price drags the shard across Bob's cheek, drawing a line of blood.
Jayson Price: "...do you feel me Bob?"
Bob whimpers and manages to let out a meek "yes." Price smiles.
Jayson Price: "Good. Now open up."
Bob stares up into the eyes of Price, almost as if to plead with him, before opening his mouth slightly.
Jayson Price: "Open your fucking mouth Bob. I'm not going to say it again."
Again Bob looks up at Price as if to plead with him before opening his mouth a bit more. Price grabs Bob by the back of the head and shoves the shard of glass into his mouth.
Jayson Price: "Now eat it Bob. Chew on that shit and swallow it."
Bob takes a small bite and then immediately tries to spit it out. Price smacks him in the side of the face, knocking him over.
Jayson Price: "Eat it! Eat it or so help me God."
Bob lets out another whimper and begins to chew slowly, a bit of blood trickling out from between his lips. Price takes a seat in his chair and stares down at Bob, daring him to spit out the glass. As the sound of glass crunching between Bob's teeth fill the room, Price reaches over and picks up the bottle of whiskey sitting on the table beside him. He takes a small sip straight from the bottle and then tips it over, letting a small trickle splash Bob in the face. The dark liquid mixes with the blood on Bob's face and creates a little pool beside him.
Jayson Price: "I bet that glass really hurts your mouth, doesn't it? I bet you'd love to have something to help wash it down."
Bob meekly shakes his head yes as he slowly chews. Price points down at the puddle of blood and whiskey mix on the floor.
Jayson Price: "Well there you fucking go, start slurping that shit up."
Price takes another sip from the bottle as Bob looks down at the puddle, a look of horror, disgust and pain on his face.
Jayson Price: "What? You want a straw or something? Get to slurping!"
Bob doesn't move as he continues to chew. Price calmly sets the bottle back down and pushes himself back up out of the chair. Bob remains frozen in place as Price walks out of the room. He holds his hand up to his mouth like he's about to spit out the glass when Price can be heard walking back into the room. Jayson walks around to the front of Bob and shows him the glass in his hand.
Jayson Price: "Now I was nice enough to give you something to help wash that down and you don't want it? Do you realize how nice it is of me to offer people things Bob? Don't you know I live to tell people to go fuck themselves when they ask me for something? Of course you do Bob, you've known me for years. So why in the fuck would you turn me down this time?"
Bob starts to speak when Price slaps him with his free hand.
Jayson Price: "Shut the fuck up Bob. Now you get your face down there and start cleaning up this puddle or I'm going to shove this glass up your ass and into your throat so that when you swallow that shard of glass it has a nice little home to stay in."
Price grabs the back of Bob's head with his free hand and shoves him face first into the puddle.
Jayson Price: "NOW!"
Bob quickly begins to lick up the mix of his own blood and whiskey as Price pats him on the head like a dog and takes a seat back in his chair. He pours himself a drink and looks back out the window at the sky as the storm picks up strength. Price's phone rings from the table in front of him as Bob looks up at him hopefully.
Jayson Price: "Make a sound and see what happens."
Bob goes back to licking up the puddle as Price reaches forward and picks up his cell phone.
Jayson Price: "Yeah?" "No, I remembered we have a show tonight." "Yeah, I'll be there." "I said I'll fucking be there."
Price holds the phone away from his ear as a frantic voice can be heard on the other line until Price ends the call.
Jayson Price: "Whiny fucks. They book me against nobodies and then expect me to show up all pumped up like I'm main eventing? I'm Jayson Price, not Adam Young. Fuck 'em. Right Bob?"
Bob starts to speak when Price slaps across the back of the head.
Jayson Price: "Rhetorical question Bob. Now hurry the fuck up and get out. I've got a flight to catch in an hour."
Bob finishes licking up the blood and whiskey on the floor and looks up at Price.
Jayson Price: "What? You want a cookie? Get the fuck out."
Bob slowly gets up to his feet and wipes the blood from his mouth. He starts to say something but wisely decides to turn and leave.
Jayson Price: "Always a pleasure Bob!"
The door can be heard slamming shut as Price smiles.
Jayson Price: "Well I guess we know who dies next."
Price's phone again rings from the table in front of him. With a sigh, Price reaches out and picks it up.
Jayson Price: "Yeah?" "Look, I already told you that I'll be there." "You're right, I'm not taking you seriously. You want to know why?" "No, please, ask me why." "Because you're a fucking tool. You want me to give a fuck? Book me against someone that I've actually heard of. Book me against someone that I should actually give a fuck about. Who the fuck is Cormack MacNeill?" "Yes I'm serious, who the fuck is he?" "Is that it?" "Nope, still don't give a fuck."
Price ends the call and gives the phone a little toss onto the table.
Jayson Price: "And the list grows."
Price takes another long sip of his drink as the camera zooms in on the storm raging outside before the scene slowly fades out to black.
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Late Afternoon
The scene opens with a shot of Jayson Price, casually relaxing in an armchair beside a roaring fire as he stares at the gloomy Philadelphia sky outside. Storm clouds hang high in the air as a light drizzle begins. He reaches to the table beside him and picks up a small glass of whiskey as the fire crackles. As he takes a slow sip of his drink, his mind wanders to a number of things. WCF Management still not happy with his little macabre display at One. PETA threatening protests and lawsuits over the death of a seagull. The city of Philadelphia threatening to take down the tower due to some obscure ordinances. And that's just the shit that has come up in the last month. But still, despite all the fucks that Jayson Price should be giving at this moment, he seems quite content enjoying his drink by the fire as he watches the storm. The sound of a door opening at the other end of the condo can be heard, followed by footsteps in the hall.
Jayson Price: "I do hope for your sake that you remembered to take off your shoes."
The footsteps stop and then grow distant as they head the other way. Price shakes his head and takes another sip of his drink as the drizzle of rain grows harder and the wind begins to pick up. Softer steps can be heard coming back down the hall as Cameraman Bob walks into the living room. He starts to reach for a lamp.
Jayson Price: "Leave it off."
Cameraman Bob: "All right, but I thought you'd want to see this."
Jayson Price: "Right now the only thing I want to see is this glass in my hand get refilled."
Price finishes off his drink and then dangles the glass in the air to his side.
Cameraman Bob: "The last time I checked I was a cameraman, not your butler."
Jayson Price: "Yeah and the last time I checked I wasn't the kind of person that asked twice."
Bob shakes his head and lets out a sigh as Price continues to hold the glass out to the side. Finally Bob walks over to where Price is sitting. He reaches for the glass when Price lets the glass drop. It hits the hardwood floor and shatters into thousands of tiny little pieces.
Jayson Price: "Whoops, must of slipped. Why don't you go ahead and take care of that too."
Bob stares at Price, who continues to stare ahead at the window at the outside sky. He turns to leave to get a broom when Price grabs hold of his arm.
Jayson Price: "And where are you going?"
Cameraman Bob: "To get a broom."
Jayson Price: "No need, your hands should do the job just fine."
Cameraman Bob: "You're joking?"
Jayson Price: "No. But would you like to hear a joke?"
Bob doesn't answer, instead he just stands there looking down at the glass on the floor and back up at Price.
Cameraman Bob: "Yeah, I'm getting a broom."
Bob pulls his arm free and turns to walk away when Price pushes himself out of his chair and grabs Bob by the back of his shirt. Price uses all his strength to yank Bob backward and lets him fall hard onto the wood floor.
Cameraman Bob: "Hey! The fuc-"
Price now grabbing Bob by his hair and pulling him back to the side of the chair.
Jayson Price: "When I tell you to do something, you do it. I don't know who you think you are Bob, but you are not in a position to do whatever you want."
Price drops to his knees and pushes the side of Bob's head to the ground, grinding his cheek into the broken glass on the floor. Bob screams out in pain as Price smiles. He reaches over and grabs one of the bigger shards nearby.
Jayson Price: "Now what's going to happen here is you're going to take this here shard of glass, stick it in your mouth and eat it. And then you're going to clean up the rest of this shit with your hands and not bitch about it. And if I find one piece of glass, even one tiny little piece, I'm going to beat you until you throw up this little shard of glass and then make you eat it again. Do you feel me Bob?"
Bob merely cries in pain as Price presses the tip of the broken shard into his cheek.
Jayson Price: "I said..."
Price drags the shard across Bob's cheek, drawing a line of blood.
Jayson Price: "...do you feel me Bob?"
Bob whimpers and manages to let out a meek "yes." Price smiles.
Jayson Price: "Good. Now open up."
Bob stares up into the eyes of Price, almost as if to plead with him, before opening his mouth slightly.
Jayson Price: "Open your fucking mouth Bob. I'm not going to say it again."
Again Bob looks up at Price as if to plead with him before opening his mouth a bit more. Price grabs Bob by the back of the head and shoves the shard of glass into his mouth.
Jayson Price: "Now eat it Bob. Chew on that shit and swallow it."
Bob takes a small bite and then immediately tries to spit it out. Price smacks him in the side of the face, knocking him over.
Jayson Price: "Eat it! Eat it or so help me God."
Bob lets out another whimper and begins to chew slowly, a bit of blood trickling out from between his lips. Price takes a seat in his chair and stares down at Bob, daring him to spit out the glass. As the sound of glass crunching between Bob's teeth fill the room, Price reaches over and picks up the bottle of whiskey sitting on the table beside him. He takes a small sip straight from the bottle and then tips it over, letting a small trickle splash Bob in the face. The dark liquid mixes with the blood on Bob's face and creates a little pool beside him.
Jayson Price: "I bet that glass really hurts your mouth, doesn't it? I bet you'd love to have something to help wash it down."
Bob meekly shakes his head yes as he slowly chews. Price points down at the puddle of blood and whiskey mix on the floor.
Jayson Price: "Well there you fucking go, start slurping that shit up."
Price takes another sip from the bottle as Bob looks down at the puddle, a look of horror, disgust and pain on his face.
Jayson Price: "What? You want a straw or something? Get to slurping!"
Bob doesn't move as he continues to chew. Price calmly sets the bottle back down and pushes himself back up out of the chair. Bob remains frozen in place as Price walks out of the room. He holds his hand up to his mouth like he's about to spit out the glass when Price can be heard walking back into the room. Jayson walks around to the front of Bob and shows him the glass in his hand.
Jayson Price: "Now I was nice enough to give you something to help wash that down and you don't want it? Do you realize how nice it is of me to offer people things Bob? Don't you know I live to tell people to go fuck themselves when they ask me for something? Of course you do Bob, you've known me for years. So why in the fuck would you turn me down this time?"
Bob starts to speak when Price slaps him with his free hand.
Jayson Price: "Shut the fuck up Bob. Now you get your face down there and start cleaning up this puddle or I'm going to shove this glass up your ass and into your throat so that when you swallow that shard of glass it has a nice little home to stay in."
Price grabs the back of Bob's head with his free hand and shoves him face first into the puddle.
Jayson Price: "NOW!"
Bob quickly begins to lick up the mix of his own blood and whiskey as Price pats him on the head like a dog and takes a seat back in his chair. He pours himself a drink and looks back out the window at the sky as the storm picks up strength. Price's phone rings from the table in front of him as Bob looks up at him hopefully.
Jayson Price: "Make a sound and see what happens."
Bob goes back to licking up the puddle as Price reaches forward and picks up his cell phone.
Jayson Price: "Yeah?" "No, I remembered we have a show tonight." "Yeah, I'll be there." "I said I'll fucking be there."
Price holds the phone away from his ear as a frantic voice can be heard on the other line until Price ends the call.
Jayson Price: "Whiny fucks. They book me against nobodies and then expect me to show up all pumped up like I'm main eventing? I'm Jayson Price, not Adam Young. Fuck 'em. Right Bob?"
Bob starts to speak when Price slaps across the back of the head.
Jayson Price: "Rhetorical question Bob. Now hurry the fuck up and get out. I've got a flight to catch in an hour."
Bob finishes licking up the blood and whiskey on the floor and looks up at Price.
Jayson Price: "What? You want a cookie? Get the fuck out."
Bob slowly gets up to his feet and wipes the blood from his mouth. He starts to say something but wisely decides to turn and leave.
Jayson Price: "Always a pleasure Bob!"
The door can be heard slamming shut as Price smiles.
Jayson Price: "Well I guess we know who dies next."
Price's phone again rings from the table in front of him. With a sigh, Price reaches out and picks it up.
Jayson Price: "Yeah?" "Look, I already told you that I'll be there." "You're right, I'm not taking you seriously. You want to know why?" "No, please, ask me why." "Because you're a fucking tool. You want me to give a fuck? Book me against someone that I've actually heard of. Book me against someone that I should actually give a fuck about. Who the fuck is Cormack MacNeill?" "Yes I'm serious, who the fuck is he?" "Is that it?" "Nope, still don't give a fuck."
Price ends the call and gives the phone a little toss onto the table.
Jayson Price: "And the list grows."
Price takes another long sip of his drink as the camera zooms in on the storm raging outside before the scene slowly fades out to black.
