Post by Doc Henry on Sept 4, 2016 15:49:28 GMT -5
Doc's hotel suite, Wheeling, W Va
Doc is sitting on the edge of the bed, he looks exhausted and on the verge of a mental breakdown. A big glass of moonshine in one hand, and a cigarette in the other, Mary sits next to him and they just sigh.
"What the hell happened to this company Mary? There wasn't a decent hotel anywhere close enough for me to relax properly. Look at this room, I'm too afraid to sleep on this bed for all the possible contagions, the shower is moldy as hell, and I can't clean my stitches properly."
Doc takes a huge swig and just continues his rant. "I'm about to say fuck this match and go break Lerch outta whatever rehab they stuck his ass in. Look I'm not saying I like the drunken bastard, but this place definitely ran smoother when he was blitzed.
Take this booking, shit, half the guys in my battle royal are still recovering from that horror show that was the Hardcore Championship Match. Seriously what the fuck man, can't they see we need some sort of break? Fuck off...."
Doc stands, wincing as his drying skin stretches painfully. Looking right at the camera and a little off to the left, Doc's brow furrows as his anger rises, "And you guys, always hanging around looking for some sort of sound bite or clip to blast all over the WCF News on the network...
Only $10.01..."
Doc drops the cigarette onto the carpet and puts it out with the heel of his boot. Causing the producer off screen to comment, "Aren't you afraid you'll start a fire doing that?"
"Fuck no... I know what I'm doing. Even when others in the fed try and say otherwise. Look ZMac said some things that were correct, but hey, even a broken clock is right twice a day..."
"Unless it's a 24 hour clock..."
"Touché"
Doc drinks more of his signature blend 'Shine, and sits back down. "Let me get to the point on this, that is why you two are here...". Doc indicates the WCF crew. "At Slam, there will be a big ol' clusterfuck battle royale. Because why not? That's how this place runs. Let's take four men who damn near killed themselves and toss in some other sick fucks to sell tickets.
Look, I'm bruised and still healing from Revenge, but guess what, I'm not just gonna lay down for this.. Well, I might... Hell that strategy has worked for me in these before, let everyone else tire themselves out and then I go in fresh and clean house.
Look, like I said, ZMac was right when he said that I have done more for this company than Gemini has or ever will. I go in every time and put myself on the line, I pull the nutsack out and dare my opponents to kick them. Then after that mistake I beat the ever loving piss out of them. Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose. That is just how the game is played."
Doc frowns as he finds the bottom of his glass, "Well shit...
Look, I know you guys came here hoping to film something that can be used, but I hate to let you down... I already have been training, and working out. You see the key to a match like this is endurance and perseverance. Guys like Oblivion with their destructive strength do well, sure, but I have one question. How did that work at Revenge?"
Doc starts absentmindedly fiddling with Mary's thigh, almost forgetting the film crew.
...
After several long moments, the producer pipes up, "Doc, don't you have anything to say about your opponents?"
"Why? This is gonna be a fight, not a debate..."
The producer lowers his voice, "Doc, you know how this works, we need shoot for sounds bytes and to hype the match."
"You want a sound byte?" With a sly smile, Mary grabs the bottle and guzzles. A few seconds later lets out a belch so powerful the walls rattle.
"You know that in this business, the better the shoot the better your chances..."
Doc looks confused, "Whoever made up that rule must be some Internet trolling mamas boy who's never step foot in the real ring. Seriously, in what parallel universe does shit talking directly correlate to ass kicking?"
"Come on Doc... For the fans?"
"You fucker...
Fine, I'll say a few words..."
"First up, Psychopomp."
"And Circumstance...
NEXT!"
"Greg St. Matthews"
"Seriously...
Gay pornstar...
NEXT!!"
"The 'Real Deal' Jason O'Neal"
"The fuck?
NEXT!!!"
"Chaos"
"Quick to the Cone Of Silence!
NEXT!!!!"
"Oblivion"
"One tough sum bitch.
NEXT!!!!!
"Lester Parish."
"ChoMo Priest...
NEXT!!!!!!"
"Massaker."
"Wounded Knee.
NEXT!!!!!!!"
"Zombie McMorris."
"Been there, whooped that...
NEXT!!!!!!!!"
"Gemini Battle."
"Baby fight in the womb.
Look, the best that bastard could say as insult is the same old boring shit that has been proven wrong time and again. Proving that he knows I'm better and that just the thought of facing me has his brain in shut down... Come on, where was the clever insults and put downs, not rhetoric..."
"Well, I guess I can find some use for that, but really... Are you sure you can't do a real shoot?"
"No, because I'm not gonna spend my valuable time insulting and talking down nine other guys in over the top battle royal. Look, I'm going to whip some major ass and these fucking bastards don't stand a chance against the Confederate Champion, because this Southern Rogue is gonna show West Virginia why they shouldn't have broken off and joined the Damned Yankee bastards. This is a fight, not some high school D&D type shit where a simple roll of the die and role-playing determines the winner. The only person who lets words said by someone else affect them is a pussy, and there is one thing 'the Cock' does to a pussy really fucking well.... Smash it! Looks like there are nine smashings on the way..."
The producer just nods and leaves the room.
Doc turns to Mary and they gather their stuff. "Time to check out hon, at least the arena will have decent showers in the locker room...
*Fade*
Doc is sitting on the edge of the bed, he looks exhausted and on the verge of a mental breakdown. A big glass of moonshine in one hand, and a cigarette in the other, Mary sits next to him and they just sigh.
"What the hell happened to this company Mary? There wasn't a decent hotel anywhere close enough for me to relax properly. Look at this room, I'm too afraid to sleep on this bed for all the possible contagions, the shower is moldy as hell, and I can't clean my stitches properly."
Doc takes a huge swig and just continues his rant. "I'm about to say fuck this match and go break Lerch outta whatever rehab they stuck his ass in. Look I'm not saying I like the drunken bastard, but this place definitely ran smoother when he was blitzed.
Take this booking, shit, half the guys in my battle royal are still recovering from that horror show that was the Hardcore Championship Match. Seriously what the fuck man, can't they see we need some sort of break? Fuck off...."
Doc stands, wincing as his drying skin stretches painfully. Looking right at the camera and a little off to the left, Doc's brow furrows as his anger rises, "And you guys, always hanging around looking for some sort of sound bite or clip to blast all over the WCF News on the network...
Only $10.01..."
Doc drops the cigarette onto the carpet and puts it out with the heel of his boot. Causing the producer off screen to comment, "Aren't you afraid you'll start a fire doing that?"
"Fuck no... I know what I'm doing. Even when others in the fed try and say otherwise. Look ZMac said some things that were correct, but hey, even a broken clock is right twice a day..."
"Unless it's a 24 hour clock..."
"Touché"
Doc drinks more of his signature blend 'Shine, and sits back down. "Let me get to the point on this, that is why you two are here...". Doc indicates the WCF crew. "At Slam, there will be a big ol' clusterfuck battle royale. Because why not? That's how this place runs. Let's take four men who damn near killed themselves and toss in some other sick fucks to sell tickets.
Look, I'm bruised and still healing from Revenge, but guess what, I'm not just gonna lay down for this.. Well, I might... Hell that strategy has worked for me in these before, let everyone else tire themselves out and then I go in fresh and clean house.
Look, like I said, ZMac was right when he said that I have done more for this company than Gemini has or ever will. I go in every time and put myself on the line, I pull the nutsack out and dare my opponents to kick them. Then after that mistake I beat the ever loving piss out of them. Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose. That is just how the game is played."
Doc frowns as he finds the bottom of his glass, "Well shit...
Look, I know you guys came here hoping to film something that can be used, but I hate to let you down... I already have been training, and working out. You see the key to a match like this is endurance and perseverance. Guys like Oblivion with their destructive strength do well, sure, but I have one question. How did that work at Revenge?"
Doc starts absentmindedly fiddling with Mary's thigh, almost forgetting the film crew.
...
After several long moments, the producer pipes up, "Doc, don't you have anything to say about your opponents?"
"Why? This is gonna be a fight, not a debate..."
The producer lowers his voice, "Doc, you know how this works, we need shoot for sounds bytes and to hype the match."
"You want a sound byte?" With a sly smile, Mary grabs the bottle and guzzles. A few seconds later lets out a belch so powerful the walls rattle.
"You know that in this business, the better the shoot the better your chances..."
Doc looks confused, "Whoever made up that rule must be some Internet trolling mamas boy who's never step foot in the real ring. Seriously, in what parallel universe does shit talking directly correlate to ass kicking?"
"Come on Doc... For the fans?"
"You fucker...
Fine, I'll say a few words..."
"First up, Psychopomp."
"And Circumstance...
NEXT!"
"Greg St. Matthews"
"Seriously...
Gay pornstar...
NEXT!!"
"The 'Real Deal' Jason O'Neal"
"The fuck?
NEXT!!!"
"Chaos"
"Quick to the Cone Of Silence!
NEXT!!!!"
"Oblivion"
"One tough sum bitch.
NEXT!!!!!
"Lester Parish."
"ChoMo Priest...
NEXT!!!!!!"
"Massaker."
"Wounded Knee.
NEXT!!!!!!!"
"Zombie McMorris."
"Been there, whooped that...
NEXT!!!!!!!!"
"Gemini Battle."
"Baby fight in the womb.
Look, the best that bastard could say as insult is the same old boring shit that has been proven wrong time and again. Proving that he knows I'm better and that just the thought of facing me has his brain in shut down... Come on, where was the clever insults and put downs, not rhetoric..."
"Well, I guess I can find some use for that, but really... Are you sure you can't do a real shoot?"
"No, because I'm not gonna spend my valuable time insulting and talking down nine other guys in over the top battle royal. Look, I'm going to whip some major ass and these fucking bastards don't stand a chance against the Confederate Champion, because this Southern Rogue is gonna show West Virginia why they shouldn't have broken off and joined the Damned Yankee bastards. This is a fight, not some high school D&D type shit where a simple roll of the die and role-playing determines the winner. The only person who lets words said by someone else affect them is a pussy, and there is one thing 'the Cock' does to a pussy really fucking well.... Smash it! Looks like there are nine smashings on the way..."
The producer just nods and leaves the room.
Doc turns to Mary and they gather their stuff. "Time to check out hon, at least the arena will have decent showers in the locker room...
*Fade*
