Post by genocide on Feb 14, 2006 19:22:14 GMT -5
(The scene opens inside of a restraunt called "Vinchenzo's" You can tell that it is lunchtime by all of the older men in suits having business lunch. It is crowded and loud, but seats are still available. The outside sunshine is shining through the windows. Genocide and "Dangerous" Darryl Black are sitting at their own circular table, enjoying their drinks. Genocide is wearing a black suit and drinking what appears to be a soda. Black is wearing a white suit, while enjoying an iced tea.)
Genocide: So when is this guy going to be here?
DDB: Be patient. He said 1:30, and by my calculations it is only…..
(Black looks at the watch on his right hand.)
DDB: 1:20. He's got plenty of time.
(Black looks up from his watch at Genocide, flashing one of his cocky grins. Genocide looks the other way, visually pissed.)
Genocide: I could be using this time working out, viewing tape, or doing something.
DDB: Easy, big guy. This time isn’t going to be a complete waste. This will help us make you a bigger, more frightening star. Trust me, I know how to market a wrestler. You stick to crunching bones, I'll stick to crunching numbers.
(Black lets out an annoying cackle everyone can here. He's proud of himself.)
Genocide: Whatever. Just don't let this piss ant piss me off.
(Before Black can respond, a voice calls out to him.)
Man: Darryl, my man! How's it been?
(Black looks at the man, and gets up. He grins, and shakes the man's hand.)
DDB: Sid, glad to see you!
(Sid is a very skinny man. He's bald, and has glasses. He is wearing a pair of khaki pants and a blue dress shirt.)
Sid: The pleasure is mine! This could help save my ass! My boss has been riding me like some sort of horse! I can't tell you how much this means to me.
DDB: Hey, this means a lot to us, as well. We feel that this will benefit for the both of us. We have to go through with it.
Sid: No doubt.
(Sid glances at Genocide, who looks at the ground with a mean look on his face.)
Sid: This must be Genocide. Genocide, I saw you last night on Slam. Boy, you sure did ruin some guys face. Pretty Boy, I think it was.
Genocide: That jobber had no business anywhere near my ring.
(Sid looks at Black. A smile slowly creeps across his face. They both nod their heads.)
Sid: So, you're ok with what we're going to be doing, correct?
Genocide: I wouldn’t say that I'm ok with it, but that it's a position I'm being forced into. The only thing that a guy like you and man like me have in common is that wrestling is how we earn our bread and butter. And even that we are as far away from each as possible. So just because I'm doing this as a privilege for you doesn’t mean we are friends.
Sid: I understand completely. But the feeling is mutual. You see, I'm doing you a favor by making you a bigger star, but you’re doing me a favor by helping me keep my job.
Genocide: Whatever. But while we're on the subject of your ass getting fired, what exactly is that you do?
Sid: Well, I'm the scout writer for PWW, Pro Wrestling Weekly, and I inform the readers about names you should look out for. Each month, I have a few wrestlers to keep an eye on, and a few whose stock has fallen. Lately, my picks have been vice-versa, and the boss is getting mad. So now, if I could do this article on you before you become a big factor, my ass is saved.
(Genocide has a look on his face that explains he doesn’t trust this puny writer with his career. Black immediately notices it.)
DDB: Uh, Sid graduated from Northwestern with a major in journalism. He has won multiple writing awards, and is very, very crafty.
(Genocide looks at Black, then back at Sid.)
Genocide: Well he'd better be. If not, I'll be sure to make him pay.
Sid: So then we start tomorrow. What time sounds good?
Genocide: Well, you want a day in my life. Then you'd better be at my apartment at 5:30 and ready to work out.
Sid: 5 fucking thirty? I don't even wake up that early on Christmas!
Genocide: Well, tomorrow you do. Let's go Darryl.
(Genocide throws a $20 bill on the table, and walks off the scene. Black looks at Sid, who has an excited look on his face.)
Sid: You know, I've seen wrestlers like him before. They can be monsters, or disasters. With you managing him, my money is on a monster.
(The scene fades out, then in quickly again, outside. Genocide is approaching his blue Ford Expedition, and Black is entering the passenger seat.)
Genocide: So at Slam I've got a four way match against 3 losers who will be nothing to me. After I beat them, I'm going to take that pathetic excuse of a wrestler Dark Prophet's title and never let anyone touch it again.
DDB: You see, the 3 people that enter the ring this week against Genocide have one thing on their mind right now- winning the match. But when the ref rings that bell, and once they get face to face with the monster Genocide, they start to think, 'hey, my main goal needs to be to escape this match alive.' It's a fact that Genocide will win this week, and only luck will be able to let these 3 baboons escape with all the bones they entered with.
Genocide: Let it be known that if you step into my path, you will be erased. I can, will, enjoy beating anyone who has a doubt that Genocide is just a gimmick. It's not just a name. It's my game!
(Scene fades to black)
Genocide: So when is this guy going to be here?
DDB: Be patient. He said 1:30, and by my calculations it is only…..
(Black looks at the watch on his right hand.)
DDB: 1:20. He's got plenty of time.
(Black looks up from his watch at Genocide, flashing one of his cocky grins. Genocide looks the other way, visually pissed.)
Genocide: I could be using this time working out, viewing tape, or doing something.
DDB: Easy, big guy. This time isn’t going to be a complete waste. This will help us make you a bigger, more frightening star. Trust me, I know how to market a wrestler. You stick to crunching bones, I'll stick to crunching numbers.
(Black lets out an annoying cackle everyone can here. He's proud of himself.)
Genocide: Whatever. Just don't let this piss ant piss me off.
(Before Black can respond, a voice calls out to him.)
Man: Darryl, my man! How's it been?
(Black looks at the man, and gets up. He grins, and shakes the man's hand.)
DDB: Sid, glad to see you!
(Sid is a very skinny man. He's bald, and has glasses. He is wearing a pair of khaki pants and a blue dress shirt.)
Sid: The pleasure is mine! This could help save my ass! My boss has been riding me like some sort of horse! I can't tell you how much this means to me.
DDB: Hey, this means a lot to us, as well. We feel that this will benefit for the both of us. We have to go through with it.
Sid: No doubt.
(Sid glances at Genocide, who looks at the ground with a mean look on his face.)
Sid: This must be Genocide. Genocide, I saw you last night on Slam. Boy, you sure did ruin some guys face. Pretty Boy, I think it was.
Genocide: That jobber had no business anywhere near my ring.
(Sid looks at Black. A smile slowly creeps across his face. They both nod their heads.)
Sid: So, you're ok with what we're going to be doing, correct?
Genocide: I wouldn’t say that I'm ok with it, but that it's a position I'm being forced into. The only thing that a guy like you and man like me have in common is that wrestling is how we earn our bread and butter. And even that we are as far away from each as possible. So just because I'm doing this as a privilege for you doesn’t mean we are friends.
Sid: I understand completely. But the feeling is mutual. You see, I'm doing you a favor by making you a bigger star, but you’re doing me a favor by helping me keep my job.
Genocide: Whatever. But while we're on the subject of your ass getting fired, what exactly is that you do?
Sid: Well, I'm the scout writer for PWW, Pro Wrestling Weekly, and I inform the readers about names you should look out for. Each month, I have a few wrestlers to keep an eye on, and a few whose stock has fallen. Lately, my picks have been vice-versa, and the boss is getting mad. So now, if I could do this article on you before you become a big factor, my ass is saved.
(Genocide has a look on his face that explains he doesn’t trust this puny writer with his career. Black immediately notices it.)
DDB: Uh, Sid graduated from Northwestern with a major in journalism. He has won multiple writing awards, and is very, very crafty.
(Genocide looks at Black, then back at Sid.)
Genocide: Well he'd better be. If not, I'll be sure to make him pay.
Sid: So then we start tomorrow. What time sounds good?
Genocide: Well, you want a day in my life. Then you'd better be at my apartment at 5:30 and ready to work out.
Sid: 5 fucking thirty? I don't even wake up that early on Christmas!
Genocide: Well, tomorrow you do. Let's go Darryl.
(Genocide throws a $20 bill on the table, and walks off the scene. Black looks at Sid, who has an excited look on his face.)
Sid: You know, I've seen wrestlers like him before. They can be monsters, or disasters. With you managing him, my money is on a monster.
(The scene fades out, then in quickly again, outside. Genocide is approaching his blue Ford Expedition, and Black is entering the passenger seat.)
Genocide: So at Slam I've got a four way match against 3 losers who will be nothing to me. After I beat them, I'm going to take that pathetic excuse of a wrestler Dark Prophet's title and never let anyone touch it again.
DDB: You see, the 3 people that enter the ring this week against Genocide have one thing on their mind right now- winning the match. But when the ref rings that bell, and once they get face to face with the monster Genocide, they start to think, 'hey, my main goal needs to be to escape this match alive.' It's a fact that Genocide will win this week, and only luck will be able to let these 3 baboons escape with all the bones they entered with.
Genocide: Let it be known that if you step into my path, you will be erased. I can, will, enjoy beating anyone who has a doubt that Genocide is just a gimmick. It's not just a name. It's my game!
(Scene fades to black)
