Post by Raymond Hatcher on Feb 28, 2016 8:48:22 GMT -5
***We see Luciano Baltazar sitting back behind a desk in a luxurious office. A large sign behind him reads: Baltazar Casino. He’s donning a grey pinstripe suit with a crisp white shirt and a burgundy red tie. Luciano is watching a computer monitor. On the screen we see that it is footage from the middle of Hatcher’s last Slam appearance. Hatcher is stumbling around the ring intoxicated taking hit after hit. Luciano cringes at the sight of his friend being embarrassed. We hear a loud crash, it startles Luciano who subsequently looks up from the monitor. The door to his office swings open and in walks Raymond Hatcher, glass in hand. Hatcher’s hair is unkept, he has his suit jacket swung over his shoulder.***
Hatcher: Luci!
***Hatcher lumbers through the room dropping down on a couch.***
Luciano: So you made it?
Hatcher: Sure did, I was already in the casino anyway. You know I am really starting to like this place. I think I might have to take you up on that job offer.
Luciano: Hmmm.
***Despite being adamant in the past about wanting Hatcher to come work in the casino, Luciano doesn’t look too pleased about Hatcher’s new found affection for the place.***
Hatcher: So, what’s going on buddy?
Luciano: That’s a good question, my friend…what is going on? I was just watching your last match.
Hatcher: O yeah, me and Vengeance. That shit was brutal.
Luciano: What? No, the six man tag match.
Hatcher: What six man?
Luciano: The one earlier this week. You took on the Beach Krew.
Hatcher: O that’s right. What a boring affair, one third of the team sat at ringside like some do-nothing mark.
***Hatcher sips from his glass.***
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Hatcher: I don’t remember too much about it, I was bit buzzed.
Luciano: Just buzzed? You were definitely more than a bit buzzed, I can just tell by watching the match, this is embarrassing, my friend.
Hatcher: O you’re exaggerating, it wasn’t that bad.
Luciano: You were stumbling around the ring, people were laughing at you.
Hatcher: Nah, I was fine.
Luciano: Not judging from this footage, you stunk up the joint. You shit all over this match.
Hatcher: Come on, you should check out what I did after the match.
***Hatcher gets up and walks over to the desk, he swings around behind Luciano and hangs over his shoulder.***
Hatcher: Fast forward a bit.
***Luciano slides the mouse along the desk and hits the tracking bar on the video, the clip then jumps to Hatcher fighting with Gravedigger over the cooler.***
Luciano: What? This? You fighting over beer?
Hatcher: No, not that…no, before that. Trust me, it was awesome, I dropped that inbred Adam Young right on his head.
Luciano: O and is that supposed to impress me?
Hatcher: No, but it was still pretty cool looking. I cracked him over the head with a beer bottle. It actually fucked me up a bit.
***Hatcher pulls up his shirt sleeve and we see a bandage over his wrist area.***
Hatcher: I got one of the damn shards lodged in my hand. The darn thing is still bleeding.
***Hatcher pulls back the bandage and we see a large gash going across the lower part of his palm into his wrist.***
Luciano: Not surprising when your blood is ninety percent alcohol.
Hatcher: Ha, ha…ha, real funny.
***Hatcher resticks the bandage and pulls down his sleeve.***
Hatcher: So what’s going on, Luci?
***Hatcher heads back to the couch sipping his drink the whole way. Hatcher slumps onto the sofa as if he just got home from a long day at work.***
Luciano: I’m worried about you, my friend. You’ve been drinking a lot lately.
Hatcher: Haha, yeah right, seriously, what’s going on?
Luciano: I am serious.
Hatcher: O’ really? Buddy, you of all people have no room to talk. I’ve seen you destroy a vending machine simply because it was out of order. One time you were so drunk you started hitting on the Miley Cyrus model at the wax museum.
***Luciano can’t help, but crack a little smile.***
Luciano: The wrecking ball one?
Hatcher: The very same one.
Luciano: Alright, I won’t argue, you’re right I’ve never been much for the sober life, but Hatcher, look at Slam, you looked terrible out there.
Hatcher: I just had one too many. I have it under control.
Luciano: Don’t you have a big battle royal this Sunday?
Hatcher: Yeah and?
Luciano: Well, don’t you think you should be hitting the gym instead of the bottle?
Hatcher: Hey, don’t you worry about my training, I’ve got it covered. Plus, I needed to unwind a bit. The worse thing for your body before a big fight is stress.
Luciano: Okay, so take a nap your something, you don’t need to be liquid up all day long.
Hatcher: O’ get out of here, I haven’t been liquid up all day long.
Luciano: I have seen you without a drink in your hand in weeks.
Hatcher: And when has that never been the case. You know sound like my mother right now? I’ve always drank. We’ve always drank. It’s never stopped us from achieving everything we could ever want. I mean jeez, do you remember stealing liquor from your dad’s bar when we were twelve?
Luciano: Yeah, we were boys. We’re men now, Hatchee-baby and it’s time we got a little more mature.
Hatcher: Mature? What is wrong with you, Luciano? You’ve turned into some sort of stiff.
Luciano: Hatchee-baby, I’ve got your back, I always have. You know you embarrassed me last week with Mr. Oshiro. The drunkiness, that girl, it was ridiculous.
Hatcher: Hah! I embarrassed you, I made that deal happen. You’re welcome by the way. I went out of my way to make sure you got what you wanted. Now you’re throwing it in my face. Tell me what would you have done, you stood there like some robot talking about proposals and all this boring shit. No one cares about that, do you think Mr. Oshiro cares about projections and spreadsheets. It’s not about you selling the idea of the truck to him, it’s about you selling the idea of you. I may get in a little bit of trouble here and there, but investors like me because I get results, I make them money.
Luciano: I know, Hatchee, you’re great at what ya do, bu—
Hatcher: No buts. Look, Luci, you’ve always played it fast and loose and now I’m finally starting to keep up with you and you decide to turn into some sort of saint. Hey that’s your cross to bear…not mine.
Luciano: I'm just trying to help you.
***Hatcher gets up from his chair.***
Hatcher: Who said I needed help?
Luciano: Well, I was just trying to--
Hatcher: Look, just don't, okay. I'm fine. I gotta go.
***Hatcher swipes his jacket up off the couch and starts to head out the door.***
Luciano: Don't leave.
***The door slams shut on Luciano. The camera cuts to outside the office. Hatcher doesn't look pleased as he stands there with a drink in hand. He looks into the camera and begins his diatribe.***
Hatcher: So here we go again, Seth putting me in the shit show. That’s what this is right? Sure there’s plenty of talent in that ring, but for what? A spot in the O’ so prestigious trios cup. I could care less, look what happened last time I was silly enough to align myself with a partner. Now I'm supposed to go at with two of em. No thanks.
So why don't we celebrate the thing that has been tearing this company apart for the better part of six months…factions. Yeah fuck factions. You heard me right, fuck ‘em. They’re all just a bunch of cowards who can’t fight for themselves. I don’t need any help fighting my battles. I never have and I never will. I carried that half-wit Adam Young on my back for the last several months and all I got was a hernia. That should be on t-shirt, I teamed with Adam Young and all I got was this stupid hernia. Better than the cancer I would assume exudes out of every pore of his worthless body. The guy is a hack, a well-paid hack, that’s all. Seth gives the guy chances because he’s just always around. Hell, I think Seth probably has to hear him bitch on a daily basis and would do anything just to get him to shut up. I mean no harm no foul, the guy’s never gonna win a world title, he’s never going to be able to sit on top of the WCF throne and spout his unintelligible rhetoric, so why not give him a world title shot, or a pay per view match against Joey Flash, only to have Seth help Young beat Flash which was of course nothing more than a smoke screen so we didn’t see the true alliance hiding underneath. See unlike Adam Young, unlike Johnny Rabid, unlike Teo Del Sol, unlike Jordan, Blue, McMorris, or a ton of the other cowards running around this promotion I’ve never needed a krew or a family to fight for me. Hatcher fights for Hatcher.
I’m not going to sit here and do a whole song and dance this. I've got much more pressing matters. So yeah it's a battle royal and yeah I'm gonna be there because even though I couldn't give two shits about this trios cup or this battle royal, Im still gonna go out there and fight, it's what I do. I'm not gonna be Adam Young hiding behind a headset. Shit this slice of mayhem might actually be a fun distraction. A little practice for what I have coming up soon. What do you have coming soon? You might say. Well, my little kiddos, you'll just have to wait and see.
***Hatcher kills his drink before killing the glass by smashing it against the wall. He slowly walks off as the scene fades to black.***
Hatcher: Luci!
***Hatcher lumbers through the room dropping down on a couch.***
Luciano: So you made it?
Hatcher: Sure did, I was already in the casino anyway. You know I am really starting to like this place. I think I might have to take you up on that job offer.
Luciano: Hmmm.
***Despite being adamant in the past about wanting Hatcher to come work in the casino, Luciano doesn’t look too pleased about Hatcher’s new found affection for the place.***
Hatcher: So, what’s going on buddy?
Luciano: That’s a good question, my friend…what is going on? I was just watching your last match.
Hatcher: O yeah, me and Vengeance. That shit was brutal.
Luciano: What? No, the six man tag match.
Hatcher: What six man?
Luciano: The one earlier this week. You took on the Beach Krew.
Hatcher: O that’s right. What a boring affair, one third of the team sat at ringside like some do-nothing mark.
***Hatcher sips from his glass.***
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Hatcher: I don’t remember too much about it, I was bit buzzed.
Luciano: Just buzzed? You were definitely more than a bit buzzed, I can just tell by watching the match, this is embarrassing, my friend.
Hatcher: O you’re exaggerating, it wasn’t that bad.
Luciano: You were stumbling around the ring, people were laughing at you.
Hatcher: Nah, I was fine.
Luciano: Not judging from this footage, you stunk up the joint. You shit all over this match.
Hatcher: Come on, you should check out what I did after the match.
***Hatcher gets up and walks over to the desk, he swings around behind Luciano and hangs over his shoulder.***
Hatcher: Fast forward a bit.
***Luciano slides the mouse along the desk and hits the tracking bar on the video, the clip then jumps to Hatcher fighting with Gravedigger over the cooler.***
Luciano: What? This? You fighting over beer?
Hatcher: No, not that…no, before that. Trust me, it was awesome, I dropped that inbred Adam Young right on his head.
Luciano: O and is that supposed to impress me?
Hatcher: No, but it was still pretty cool looking. I cracked him over the head with a beer bottle. It actually fucked me up a bit.
***Hatcher pulls up his shirt sleeve and we see a bandage over his wrist area.***
Hatcher: I got one of the damn shards lodged in my hand. The darn thing is still bleeding.
***Hatcher pulls back the bandage and we see a large gash going across the lower part of his palm into his wrist.***
Luciano: Not surprising when your blood is ninety percent alcohol.
Hatcher: Ha, ha…ha, real funny.
***Hatcher resticks the bandage and pulls down his sleeve.***
Hatcher: So what’s going on, Luci?
***Hatcher heads back to the couch sipping his drink the whole way. Hatcher slumps onto the sofa as if he just got home from a long day at work.***
Luciano: I’m worried about you, my friend. You’ve been drinking a lot lately.
Hatcher: Haha, yeah right, seriously, what’s going on?
Luciano: I am serious.
Hatcher: O’ really? Buddy, you of all people have no room to talk. I’ve seen you destroy a vending machine simply because it was out of order. One time you were so drunk you started hitting on the Miley Cyrus model at the wax museum.
***Luciano can’t help, but crack a little smile.***
Luciano: The wrecking ball one?
Hatcher: The very same one.
Luciano: Alright, I won’t argue, you’re right I’ve never been much for the sober life, but Hatcher, look at Slam, you looked terrible out there.
Hatcher: I just had one too many. I have it under control.
Luciano: Don’t you have a big battle royal this Sunday?
Hatcher: Yeah and?
Luciano: Well, don’t you think you should be hitting the gym instead of the bottle?
Hatcher: Hey, don’t you worry about my training, I’ve got it covered. Plus, I needed to unwind a bit. The worse thing for your body before a big fight is stress.
Luciano: Okay, so take a nap your something, you don’t need to be liquid up all day long.
Hatcher: O’ get out of here, I haven’t been liquid up all day long.
Luciano: I have seen you without a drink in your hand in weeks.
Hatcher: And when has that never been the case. You know sound like my mother right now? I’ve always drank. We’ve always drank. It’s never stopped us from achieving everything we could ever want. I mean jeez, do you remember stealing liquor from your dad’s bar when we were twelve?
Luciano: Yeah, we were boys. We’re men now, Hatchee-baby and it’s time we got a little more mature.
Hatcher: Mature? What is wrong with you, Luciano? You’ve turned into some sort of stiff.
Luciano: Hatchee-baby, I’ve got your back, I always have. You know you embarrassed me last week with Mr. Oshiro. The drunkiness, that girl, it was ridiculous.
Hatcher: Hah! I embarrassed you, I made that deal happen. You’re welcome by the way. I went out of my way to make sure you got what you wanted. Now you’re throwing it in my face. Tell me what would you have done, you stood there like some robot talking about proposals and all this boring shit. No one cares about that, do you think Mr. Oshiro cares about projections and spreadsheets. It’s not about you selling the idea of the truck to him, it’s about you selling the idea of you. I may get in a little bit of trouble here and there, but investors like me because I get results, I make them money.
Luciano: I know, Hatchee, you’re great at what ya do, bu—
Hatcher: No buts. Look, Luci, you’ve always played it fast and loose and now I’m finally starting to keep up with you and you decide to turn into some sort of saint. Hey that’s your cross to bear…not mine.
Luciano: I'm just trying to help you.
***Hatcher gets up from his chair.***
Hatcher: Who said I needed help?
Luciano: Well, I was just trying to--
Hatcher: Look, just don't, okay. I'm fine. I gotta go.
***Hatcher swipes his jacket up off the couch and starts to head out the door.***
Luciano: Don't leave.
***The door slams shut on Luciano. The camera cuts to outside the office. Hatcher doesn't look pleased as he stands there with a drink in hand. He looks into the camera and begins his diatribe.***
Hatcher: So here we go again, Seth putting me in the shit show. That’s what this is right? Sure there’s plenty of talent in that ring, but for what? A spot in the O’ so prestigious trios cup. I could care less, look what happened last time I was silly enough to align myself with a partner. Now I'm supposed to go at with two of em. No thanks.
So why don't we celebrate the thing that has been tearing this company apart for the better part of six months…factions. Yeah fuck factions. You heard me right, fuck ‘em. They’re all just a bunch of cowards who can’t fight for themselves. I don’t need any help fighting my battles. I never have and I never will. I carried that half-wit Adam Young on my back for the last several months and all I got was a hernia. That should be on t-shirt, I teamed with Adam Young and all I got was this stupid hernia. Better than the cancer I would assume exudes out of every pore of his worthless body. The guy is a hack, a well-paid hack, that’s all. Seth gives the guy chances because he’s just always around. Hell, I think Seth probably has to hear him bitch on a daily basis and would do anything just to get him to shut up. I mean no harm no foul, the guy’s never gonna win a world title, he’s never going to be able to sit on top of the WCF throne and spout his unintelligible rhetoric, so why not give him a world title shot, or a pay per view match against Joey Flash, only to have Seth help Young beat Flash which was of course nothing more than a smoke screen so we didn’t see the true alliance hiding underneath. See unlike Adam Young, unlike Johnny Rabid, unlike Teo Del Sol, unlike Jordan, Blue, McMorris, or a ton of the other cowards running around this promotion I’ve never needed a krew or a family to fight for me. Hatcher fights for Hatcher.
I’m not going to sit here and do a whole song and dance this. I've got much more pressing matters. So yeah it's a battle royal and yeah I'm gonna be there because even though I couldn't give two shits about this trios cup or this battle royal, Im still gonna go out there and fight, it's what I do. I'm not gonna be Adam Young hiding behind a headset. Shit this slice of mayhem might actually be a fun distraction. A little practice for what I have coming up soon. What do you have coming soon? You might say. Well, my little kiddos, you'll just have to wait and see.
***Hatcher kills his drink before killing the glass by smashing it against the wall. He slowly walks off as the scene fades to black.***
