Post by Torture on May 28, 2006 13:55:18 GMT -5
- That it is. Sunday Afternoon. Already had a nice breakfast and lunch. Drank a lot of juice. No reason to smoke pole, or drink tons of alchohol like 'other superstars' do. Not my diet. Not my way. Not the real athlete way.
- The scene opens up. Torture is in a hotel room, single bed. He's putting clothes in a bag. Clothes that he probably wore the night before. He's got black shorts on with just a plain white t-shirt. He throws a Reebok jersey over the white shirt real quick. Torture puts his phone in his pocket. He just got off the phone with Richard, Nytro's 'manager' or whatever. He puts his watch on and grabs his bag, and puts it over his shoulder.
- He walks out of his hotel room and down the hallway. Turns left into an elevator. He gets on with an adult and a small boy, looks to be his son. His son's face/jaw drops. The adult is trying to get air into his lungs. Torture hears this mumbling. He turns.
Torture: Whats up?
Adult:... Man.. we're your biggest fans!! ... This is like.. whooaa!
- Torture puts his bag down and reaches into his bag. He pulls out two Cool Wear Inc shirts and gives them to the boy and his father. His father is in surprise and keeps looking down at the boy. The boy is in la-la-land.
Torture: There ya go. Now you're cool.
- The adult is looking for the words to come out of his mouth.
Torture: You don't have to say anything. Have fun at the Pay Per View tonight.
- The T0RT knew they we're going to the arena as well to sit in their paid seats, by the camera that was hanging on the adults neck, and the WCF shirt on the boy. Torture walks up to the front counter. He checks out. He walks out the front glass door and a limosine is sitting out front. Torture knows, because of being in this town before, the arena is just under 40 minutes from this nice, big, hotel. Torture drops his bag for the driver of the limo to grab it and put it in the trunk.
- Torture is looking around at the nice day around him. He steps into the limo and the door closes. He looks to his left. It's none other than Creeping Death. Knowing they both got to go to the arena, and being more than just good friends, Torture and Creeping Death travel together a lot.
Torture: Talked to that Richard guy, Nates buddy. Apparently he's on his way there. He'll meet up with us before the match.
Creeping Death: Surpringly. Honestly, Nate needs to stop being so late. Look at me. I'm NEVER on time. And I'm... freakin early!
Torture: Seriously though, CD, I don't know what his deal is. I mean. This was all cool in the starting, but now, he's starting to piss me off.
Creeping Death: Uh, I dunno, I'd give him a little bit more time to straighten himself out. Takes a while to get back into the groove.
Torture: Alright. I'll take the advice. While we're talking about the Timebomb, or whatever it's called, what is your plan? I gotta know!
Creeping Death: Haha, well, you know that one thing?
- Torture just sits there with a confused look on his face. No sun glasses on so it's entirely too easy to see that he is confused about this 'one thing'.
Creeping Death: No? Ok. You'll just have to wait then.
- Torture and Creeping Death keep talking while the Limo begins to enter the freeway. They're off to the arena for Timebomb. Where Creeping Death's 'plan' will unravel, and Torture and Nate begin their epic journey as Tag Team Champions.
- I hope.
- The scene opens up. Torture is in a hotel room, single bed. He's putting clothes in a bag. Clothes that he probably wore the night before. He's got black shorts on with just a plain white t-shirt. He throws a Reebok jersey over the white shirt real quick. Torture puts his phone in his pocket. He just got off the phone with Richard, Nytro's 'manager' or whatever. He puts his watch on and grabs his bag, and puts it over his shoulder.
- He walks out of his hotel room and down the hallway. Turns left into an elevator. He gets on with an adult and a small boy, looks to be his son. His son's face/jaw drops. The adult is trying to get air into his lungs. Torture hears this mumbling. He turns.
Torture: Whats up?
Adult:... Man.. we're your biggest fans!! ... This is like.. whooaa!
- Torture puts his bag down and reaches into his bag. He pulls out two Cool Wear Inc shirts and gives them to the boy and his father. His father is in surprise and keeps looking down at the boy. The boy is in la-la-land.
Torture: There ya go. Now you're cool.
- The adult is looking for the words to come out of his mouth.
Torture: You don't have to say anything. Have fun at the Pay Per View tonight.
- The T0RT knew they we're going to the arena as well to sit in their paid seats, by the camera that was hanging on the adults neck, and the WCF shirt on the boy. Torture walks up to the front counter. He checks out. He walks out the front glass door and a limosine is sitting out front. Torture knows, because of being in this town before, the arena is just under 40 minutes from this nice, big, hotel. Torture drops his bag for the driver of the limo to grab it and put it in the trunk.
- Torture is looking around at the nice day around him. He steps into the limo and the door closes. He looks to his left. It's none other than Creeping Death. Knowing they both got to go to the arena, and being more than just good friends, Torture and Creeping Death travel together a lot.
Torture: Talked to that Richard guy, Nates buddy. Apparently he's on his way there. He'll meet up with us before the match.
Creeping Death: Surpringly. Honestly, Nate needs to stop being so late. Look at me. I'm NEVER on time. And I'm... freakin early!
Torture: Seriously though, CD, I don't know what his deal is. I mean. This was all cool in the starting, but now, he's starting to piss me off.
Creeping Death: Uh, I dunno, I'd give him a little bit more time to straighten himself out. Takes a while to get back into the groove.
Torture: Alright. I'll take the advice. While we're talking about the Timebomb, or whatever it's called, what is your plan? I gotta know!
Creeping Death: Haha, well, you know that one thing?
- Torture just sits there with a confused look on his face. No sun glasses on so it's entirely too easy to see that he is confused about this 'one thing'.
Creeping Death: No? Ok. You'll just have to wait then.
- Torture and Creeping Death keep talking while the Limo begins to enter the freeway. They're off to the arena for Timebomb. Where Creeping Death's 'plan' will unravel, and Torture and Nate begin their epic journey as Tag Team Champions.
- I hope.
