Post by Thunder on Apr 8, 2007 13:40:03 GMT -5
To say that things have not been going for Thunder in the past day would be an understatement of massive proportions. Not only was Thunder’s limo involved in a horrible wreck, which forced him to take a cab to the airport, but then he and Janie didn’t just go on the wrong flight, but a flight to India. Now. It appears that Thunder’s appearance in the Hardcore Title Match at Blast is in jeopardy.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Thunder and Janie are now sitting in an airport located in Bombay, India. Businessman, most likely here to check up on businesses that have jobs here, are entering and leaving, buy tickets, and reading newspapers as they wait for their flights. This airport pales in comparison to the lap of luxury those in the US take for granted. Gone are luxurious chairs and couches to sit on; only barely padded seats that hurt you back are available. And with so many people in such a tight area, there is not much empty space. A person with claustrophobia would most likely be going through torture in this busy yet small airport. Sitting on two of the chairs are Thunder and Janie Vice. At their feet are all of their bags, thrown there with little regard or care. Both of their faces show so much weariness, anger, and frustration that it appears there was a death in the family instead of a series of travel problems. Still, no matter how lifeless they look, there still appears to be a certain level of determination. Thunder lets out a very large sigh before speaking.
Thunder: I guess I’ll go over and see when the next US flight is.
Slowly, Thunder gets up from the seat and walks over to the desk. But it is not that simple as there is a fairly long line. It’s bad enough that Thunder might not even make the match, but now waiting in line could cause him to miss another flight. But once it is finally his turn, he discovers that would not be possible. The young female attendant speaks to Thunder when he reaches the desk.
Attendant: How may I help you?
Thunder: When is your next flight to the US?
Attendant: I’ll check.
The attendant focuses on the computer in front of her. In a few seconds, she has an answer.
Attendant: Seven hours.
Thunder: Seven hours?! How the hell am I supposed to get to Blast then?
Attendant: Sir, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you want to buy a ticket, you’ll have to do it now.
Thunder: Fine. Two tickets.
Thunder pays for the tickets, is given them, and then heads back to where Janie is.
Janie: Well?
Thunder: Seven hours until the next US flight.
Janie: Seven hours?! We might not even make the show at that rate.
Thunder: You don’t think I know that? This is one of the biggest matches of my career, and I might not even be there. Not only was I going to win the title, but I was going to do it against two easy opponents who I’ve defeated countless times in the past. I’ve embarrassed Danny in and out of the ring, and had the opportunity to destroy him in a brutal match in my final revenge for War. The same went for Striker. There’s nothing else I would have loved than to take his precious Hardcore Title away from him after what he and Vice did. But no who knows if that will happen.
Janie: Everything has turned out so horribly. I don’t think it could get any worse for us.
As soon as she says that, Thunder’s cell phone rings. In a quick movement that is filled with anger, Thunder pulls his phone out of his jacket and answers it.
Thunder: What the hell do you want?
Hank Brown: Sorry, did I catch you at a bad time?
Thunder: Oh, not at all. I’m only stuck in an airport in India.
Hank: India? I don’t know what crazy stuff you’ve been doing over there, but you better get back to the US soon. Anyway—
Thunder: You think I’m here because I want to? I boarded the wrong flight, you idiot, and now I might not might make it to the show on time. Why did you call anyway?
Hank: Well I was going to see if I could do an interview with you now if you were nearby, but I guess that’s out of the question.
Thunder: Great observation there. You figure that out all by yourself?
Hank: I’m sorry for bothering you, but do you think you could at least give me a statement for the website?
Thunder: You want a statement? Something like me saying how I’m going to destroy my competition at the PPV?
Hank: Yes, I guess that’s what I want.
Thunder: I think I can do that. You got a pen and paper ready?
Hank: Yes, begin whenever you’re ready.
Thunder hangs up the phone, leaving Hank hearing no statement, but only silence on the other end. He places it back in his pocket.
Janie: Hank?
Thunder: Yeah.
Janie: Listen, don’t worry. We’ll make it too the show.
Thunder: I just hope it’s not too late…
[/center]~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Thunder and Janie are now sitting in an airport located in Bombay, India. Businessman, most likely here to check up on businesses that have jobs here, are entering and leaving, buy tickets, and reading newspapers as they wait for their flights. This airport pales in comparison to the lap of luxury those in the US take for granted. Gone are luxurious chairs and couches to sit on; only barely padded seats that hurt you back are available. And with so many people in such a tight area, there is not much empty space. A person with claustrophobia would most likely be going through torture in this busy yet small airport. Sitting on two of the chairs are Thunder and Janie Vice. At their feet are all of their bags, thrown there with little regard or care. Both of their faces show so much weariness, anger, and frustration that it appears there was a death in the family instead of a series of travel problems. Still, no matter how lifeless they look, there still appears to be a certain level of determination. Thunder lets out a very large sigh before speaking.
Thunder: I guess I’ll go over and see when the next US flight is.
Slowly, Thunder gets up from the seat and walks over to the desk. But it is not that simple as there is a fairly long line. It’s bad enough that Thunder might not even make the match, but now waiting in line could cause him to miss another flight. But once it is finally his turn, he discovers that would not be possible. The young female attendant speaks to Thunder when he reaches the desk.
Attendant: How may I help you?
Thunder: When is your next flight to the US?
Attendant: I’ll check.
The attendant focuses on the computer in front of her. In a few seconds, she has an answer.
Attendant: Seven hours.
Thunder: Seven hours?! How the hell am I supposed to get to Blast then?
Attendant: Sir, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you want to buy a ticket, you’ll have to do it now.
Thunder: Fine. Two tickets.
Thunder pays for the tickets, is given them, and then heads back to where Janie is.
Janie: Well?
Thunder: Seven hours until the next US flight.
Janie: Seven hours?! We might not even make the show at that rate.
Thunder: You don’t think I know that? This is one of the biggest matches of my career, and I might not even be there. Not only was I going to win the title, but I was going to do it against two easy opponents who I’ve defeated countless times in the past. I’ve embarrassed Danny in and out of the ring, and had the opportunity to destroy him in a brutal match in my final revenge for War. The same went for Striker. There’s nothing else I would have loved than to take his precious Hardcore Title away from him after what he and Vice did. But no who knows if that will happen.
Janie: Everything has turned out so horribly. I don’t think it could get any worse for us.
As soon as she says that, Thunder’s cell phone rings. In a quick movement that is filled with anger, Thunder pulls his phone out of his jacket and answers it.
Thunder: What the hell do you want?
Hank Brown: Sorry, did I catch you at a bad time?
Thunder: Oh, not at all. I’m only stuck in an airport in India.
Hank: India? I don’t know what crazy stuff you’ve been doing over there, but you better get back to the US soon. Anyway—
Thunder: You think I’m here because I want to? I boarded the wrong flight, you idiot, and now I might not might make it to the show on time. Why did you call anyway?
Hank: Well I was going to see if I could do an interview with you now if you were nearby, but I guess that’s out of the question.
Thunder: Great observation there. You figure that out all by yourself?
Hank: I’m sorry for bothering you, but do you think you could at least give me a statement for the website?
Thunder: You want a statement? Something like me saying how I’m going to destroy my competition at the PPV?
Hank: Yes, I guess that’s what I want.
Thunder: I think I can do that. You got a pen and paper ready?
Hank: Yes, begin whenever you’re ready.
Thunder hangs up the phone, leaving Hank hearing no statement, but only silence on the other end. He places it back in his pocket.
Janie: Hank?
Thunder: Yeah.
Janie: Listen, don’t worry. We’ll make it too the show.
Thunder: I just hope it’s not too late…
