Post by Micky Saint on May 8, 2016 10:50:09 GMT -5
We open in a small gym empty but for 1 man, as the camera moves through all the equipment crammed into this tiny broom closet of a space not much bigger than a traditional wrestling rings diameter, the one man in the room is standing with his back to us punching a heavy bag, they get a little closer and then....
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The sound is almost tin like in nature, the occupant of the room stops hitting the bag and his shoulders sag almost to his nipples he looks to his left giving us a first look at his terrifying face, the man looks like an angry bulldog chewing a wasp, this is when we finally realize that we are looking at Micky Saint a new comer teetering on the edge of his WCF debut 3 days away
Saint: OI! SIGN ON THE DOOR SAYS PRIVATE! THAT TENDS TO MEAN FUCK OFF!
Silence then....
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Saint: Aaaarrrrggggghhhh for fuck sake, FINE!
Before going to the door he goes into a flurry on the bag, knee strike, kick, back fist, chop, kick and one final discuss forearm that nearly knocks the back up into the roof then walking to his left towards a door
Saint: Who the hell is it anyways!? Come one speak up
As a scraping sound can be heard it becomes more and more obvious that this training area is located in a tin shed somewhere, once the scraping is finished a feminine voice born of the bayou fills the room with the musical quality that part of the world is famous for
Voice: Well now ah know for certain ah'm in tha right place
Saint: Can I help you?
We don't see who he is facing at first but we do see a slender black hand come through the door and rest on Micky's chest, he looks down at it watching the fingers dance in his chest hair
Voice: Oh no ma love, ah'm not here for help, ah'm here to give it out
As the voice keeps speaking Micky walks backwards into the room being followed by a petite woman dressed in pieces of a tailored all white female tuxedo with white pants and a white waistcoat covering her naked upper body her breasts looking more like the where made to fit the outfit that the outfit made to fit the breasts the look is finished off with a black bowler hat sitting back on the crown of her head and a black tie that runs down between her breasts resting in her cleavage
Woman: It has come to mah attention that yo are about to start a new era in this
She looks around at what is starting to look like Micky's homestead and smiles
Woman (Mockingly): Wonderful life'a yo's
Saint: And what do you know about the life I lead lady?
Woman: Plenty, ah know yo Momma, ah know she was possibly tha most skilled Eve to ever compete in your chosen profession, ah know about yo Daddy a man who scared tha world around him, a man who's entire life, whether it be emotionally, mentally or economically all hedged on one act, murder. Ah know that tha man standing in front of me right now had to decide when he was way too young which one of those paths he wanted to follow, ass kicker like Momma or a death dealer like Daddy, ah know tha day yo started wrestlin school and tha name of tha first life yo took and ah know yo future Micky Saint, ah can see it all in yo eyes right now. Ah can see victims, ah can see the pain yo gunna inflict on them and tha suffering they gunna put on yo, ah see a white box in a kitchen with cold blue blood seeping from the sides but the top of the box is on fire. It is the last thing that brings me to yo Saint, tha last image that ah can't quite decipher and so ah seek you out in the hope you can explain it to me
Saint looks at her and starts to laugh
Saint: What you are seeing in my future is my first opponent, the images you are seeing are cryptically giving you the name Freezer Burn a jaded old vet who likes to tell the world he was famous in places we have never heard of, he considers himself a sadistic son of a bitch with a mean streak, he likes to shout about being allowed to train in places the rest of us supposedly couldn't meaning in his head China and Japan still reject Western wrestling instead of it being the most popular thing in the fucking world to those people.
He reaches up and strokes her black face, she doesn't even flinch as he does so
Saint: Don't worry about freezer burn, don't lose any sleep over the things you tell me you are seeing, the minute that mans name was written down on a piece of paper with the words VS Micky Saint written next to it that man was marked for humiliation, pain and career death. He believes that his strength comes from the insane amount of punishment his body can injure on a nightly basis, he believes that being as big as he is smaller wrestlers like myself are simply training, practice for bigger fight but I'lll change every bit of that, I will make him scream, I will make him cry and then I will make him bleed, suffer and quit begging for mercy and to simply be allowed to leave with all his limbs
Woman: Yo would do these things for me?
Saint: Oh no I won't being doing it for you I'll just being doing them too him
And with a smile he turns his back on her and walks back to the bag starting to hit it again and with every punch the image of the woman behind him fades more and more until she is gone completely, he turns his head back and snorts
Saint: Fucking Voodoo gods
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The sound is almost tin like in nature, the occupant of the room stops hitting the bag and his shoulders sag almost to his nipples he looks to his left giving us a first look at his terrifying face, the man looks like an angry bulldog chewing a wasp, this is when we finally realize that we are looking at Micky Saint a new comer teetering on the edge of his WCF debut 3 days away
Saint: OI! SIGN ON THE DOOR SAYS PRIVATE! THAT TENDS TO MEAN FUCK OFF!
Silence then....
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Saint: Aaaarrrrggggghhhh for fuck sake, FINE!
Before going to the door he goes into a flurry on the bag, knee strike, kick, back fist, chop, kick and one final discuss forearm that nearly knocks the back up into the roof then walking to his left towards a door
Saint: Who the hell is it anyways!? Come one speak up
As a scraping sound can be heard it becomes more and more obvious that this training area is located in a tin shed somewhere, once the scraping is finished a feminine voice born of the bayou fills the room with the musical quality that part of the world is famous for
Voice: Well now ah know for certain ah'm in tha right place
Saint: Can I help you?
We don't see who he is facing at first but we do see a slender black hand come through the door and rest on Micky's chest, he looks down at it watching the fingers dance in his chest hair
Voice: Oh no ma love, ah'm not here for help, ah'm here to give it out
As the voice keeps speaking Micky walks backwards into the room being followed by a petite woman dressed in pieces of a tailored all white female tuxedo with white pants and a white waistcoat covering her naked upper body her breasts looking more like the where made to fit the outfit that the outfit made to fit the breasts the look is finished off with a black bowler hat sitting back on the crown of her head and a black tie that runs down between her breasts resting in her cleavage
Woman: It has come to mah attention that yo are about to start a new era in this
She looks around at what is starting to look like Micky's homestead and smiles
Woman (Mockingly): Wonderful life'a yo's
Saint: And what do you know about the life I lead lady?
Woman: Plenty, ah know yo Momma, ah know she was possibly tha most skilled Eve to ever compete in your chosen profession, ah know about yo Daddy a man who scared tha world around him, a man who's entire life, whether it be emotionally, mentally or economically all hedged on one act, murder. Ah know that tha man standing in front of me right now had to decide when he was way too young which one of those paths he wanted to follow, ass kicker like Momma or a death dealer like Daddy, ah know tha day yo started wrestlin school and tha name of tha first life yo took and ah know yo future Micky Saint, ah can see it all in yo eyes right now. Ah can see victims, ah can see the pain yo gunna inflict on them and tha suffering they gunna put on yo, ah see a white box in a kitchen with cold blue blood seeping from the sides but the top of the box is on fire. It is the last thing that brings me to yo Saint, tha last image that ah can't quite decipher and so ah seek you out in the hope you can explain it to me
Saint looks at her and starts to laugh
Saint: What you are seeing in my future is my first opponent, the images you are seeing are cryptically giving you the name Freezer Burn a jaded old vet who likes to tell the world he was famous in places we have never heard of, he considers himself a sadistic son of a bitch with a mean streak, he likes to shout about being allowed to train in places the rest of us supposedly couldn't meaning in his head China and Japan still reject Western wrestling instead of it being the most popular thing in the fucking world to those people.
He reaches up and strokes her black face, she doesn't even flinch as he does so
Saint: Don't worry about freezer burn, don't lose any sleep over the things you tell me you are seeing, the minute that mans name was written down on a piece of paper with the words VS Micky Saint written next to it that man was marked for humiliation, pain and career death. He believes that his strength comes from the insane amount of punishment his body can injure on a nightly basis, he believes that being as big as he is smaller wrestlers like myself are simply training, practice for bigger fight but I'lll change every bit of that, I will make him scream, I will make him cry and then I will make him bleed, suffer and quit begging for mercy and to simply be allowed to leave with all his limbs
Woman: Yo would do these things for me?
Saint: Oh no I won't being doing it for you I'll just being doing them too him
And with a smile he turns his back on her and walks back to the bag starting to hit it again and with every punch the image of the woman behind him fades more and more until she is gone completely, he turns his head back and snorts
Saint: Fucking Voodoo gods
