Post by jakobazazel on Jun 4, 2011 6:11:52 GMT -5
The scene opens up ontop of a pile of bricks of what once was an elegant five story high brick hotel that had been built back in the colonial days. After the building had been charred by a massive fire, it had been torn down, and now is nothing more than a pile of broken fire scartched bricks. Sitting at the very top of the pile, is a man dressed in old, worn down blue denim jeans, a torn up black Metallica shirt which looked as if it had not been washed in months. The red converse sneakers he was wearing were covered in stains of dirt and the front of the left side of his sneaker was torn halfway off, leaving several of the toes exposed.
The mans shoulder length black hair had appeared to not have been washed and brushed in a very long time, along with his entire body, which was covered in dust and dirt. As the camera moved closer, an almost empty bottle of jack daniels whiskey could be seen laying beside him. Another man then appeared infront of the camera and slowly inched his way cautiousley towards the man. The man kept stumbling around, almost
tripping every other step due to the fact that the only light he had was that of the quarter moon that occasionaly peeked out between the cloudy sky. As the man approached, he tapped this strange person lightly on the shoulder.
The man slightly turned his head to his side and looked up through the bushy black hair that was covering his face. First at this man who
had tapped him on the shoulder, then over at the camera man. He slowly cocked his left eyebrow, apparently wondering why there was a person
there filming him. As his eyes shifted back to the man, he grabbed his bottle of whiskey and took a large gulp. After a quick cough, he brushed
the hair out of his face.
Jakob: Is there any particular reason why you are disturbing me?
Hank: Sorry, let me introduce myself, Im Hank Brown.
Jakob: Hank who?
Hank: Hank Brown... You know, the guy who works with WCF, interviewing people.
Jakob: You come to give me another bottle of whiskey?
Hank: No..... I wanted to interview you about your match.
Jakob snorted briefly, mad that the man didn't bring him any sort of alcoholic beverage, and was only there to do a damn interview.[/i][/color]
Jakob: I guess, make it quick though?
Hank: Ok, well, you know you have a match monday right?
Jakob: I do?
Jakob rubbed his hands roughly across his head, attempting to remember, but due to him downing his third bottle of whiskey just today, he was obviously having problems with almost doing anything, yet alone attempting to remember something.[/b][/color]
Jakob: Beer drinking competition?!?!
Hank: No?
Jakob: Damnit! Anything to do with drinking beer or doing drugs?
Hank rolled his eyes, obviously now thinking that this guy is a complete moron.
Hank: No, for gods sake, just a normal match!!!
Jakob: Oh... Where the hell is the fun in that?
Hank: You did sign up to wrestle, not to go there and drink whiskey and what not.
Jakob pouted, now at least remembering that.
Jakob: Ok so, what do you want to know?
Hank: Well your thoughts on the match... maybe?
Jakob: Oh, right. Makes sense.
Jakob peered around and then motioned for Hank to lower his head so he that he could whisper something to him. A slight look of fearcrossed Hank's eyes as he slowly lowered his head.[/b][/color]
Jakob: Who am I even facing?
Hank breathed a quick sigh of relief.[/b][/color]
Hank: Michael Santiago.
Jakob: Oh, him. Gotcha. The wannabe ladies man?
Hank: Well he claims he is, not going to go out and say if he is or isnt.
Jakob: True ladies men, don't have to go out and say that they are. Even though all Im smelling is the vomit from this morning, I can still smell a stench from him called "Poser".
Jakob chuckled a bit because he thought what he had just said was slightly humorous, but ended up being the only one that found it funny.
Jakob: Not going to go out and say Im a ladys man, Im more than happy being a whiskey man, but living in a beat down alley, and sleeping in a bloody moldy sleeping bag in the backstreets of detroit, means you got to know how to fight, and that I learned at an early age. Don't mistake me, I might be a bloody alcoholic nowadays, but was quite into martial arts and kick boxing back when I was a kid and still had a good life. Too many people have yeah, underestimated me, and found out that even alcoholics can fight, whether they are currently drunk or not.
Jakob looked up at the sky. The clouds had now departed and the quarter moon was slowly retreating, as dawn was about to break upon this corrupt city. He slowly staggered to his feet and stretched his arms and back. He then glanced at Hank and patted him on his shoulder.
Jakob: Now if you can excuse me, I have some liquor stores that I need to visit.
The scene cuts as Jakob stumbles down the pile of bricks.[/size]
The mans shoulder length black hair had appeared to not have been washed and brushed in a very long time, along with his entire body, which was covered in dust and dirt. As the camera moved closer, an almost empty bottle of jack daniels whiskey could be seen laying beside him. Another man then appeared infront of the camera and slowly inched his way cautiousley towards the man. The man kept stumbling around, almost
tripping every other step due to the fact that the only light he had was that of the quarter moon that occasionaly peeked out between the cloudy sky. As the man approached, he tapped this strange person lightly on the shoulder.
The man slightly turned his head to his side and looked up through the bushy black hair that was covering his face. First at this man who
had tapped him on the shoulder, then over at the camera man. He slowly cocked his left eyebrow, apparently wondering why there was a person
there filming him. As his eyes shifted back to the man, he grabbed his bottle of whiskey and took a large gulp. After a quick cough, he brushed
the hair out of his face.
Jakob: Is there any particular reason why you are disturbing me?
Hank: Sorry, let me introduce myself, Im Hank Brown.
Jakob: Hank who?
Hank: Hank Brown... You know, the guy who works with WCF, interviewing people.
Jakob: You come to give me another bottle of whiskey?
Hank: No..... I wanted to interview you about your match.
Jakob snorted briefly, mad that the man didn't bring him any sort of alcoholic beverage, and was only there to do a damn interview.[/i][/color]
Jakob: I guess, make it quick though?
Hank: Ok, well, you know you have a match monday right?
Jakob: I do?
Jakob rubbed his hands roughly across his head, attempting to remember, but due to him downing his third bottle of whiskey just today, he was obviously having problems with almost doing anything, yet alone attempting to remember something.[/b][/color]
Jakob: Beer drinking competition?!?!
Hank: No?
Jakob: Damnit! Anything to do with drinking beer or doing drugs?
Hank rolled his eyes, obviously now thinking that this guy is a complete moron.
Hank: No, for gods sake, just a normal match!!!
Jakob: Oh... Where the hell is the fun in that?
Hank: You did sign up to wrestle, not to go there and drink whiskey and what not.
Jakob pouted, now at least remembering that.
Jakob: Ok so, what do you want to know?
Hank: Well your thoughts on the match... maybe?
Jakob: Oh, right. Makes sense.
Jakob peered around and then motioned for Hank to lower his head so he that he could whisper something to him. A slight look of fearcrossed Hank's eyes as he slowly lowered his head.[/b][/color]
Jakob: Who am I even facing?
Hank breathed a quick sigh of relief.[/b][/color]
Hank: Michael Santiago.
Jakob: Oh, him. Gotcha. The wannabe ladies man?
Hank: Well he claims he is, not going to go out and say if he is or isnt.
Jakob: True ladies men, don't have to go out and say that they are. Even though all Im smelling is the vomit from this morning, I can still smell a stench from him called "Poser".
Jakob chuckled a bit because he thought what he had just said was slightly humorous, but ended up being the only one that found it funny.
Jakob: Not going to go out and say Im a ladys man, Im more than happy being a whiskey man, but living in a beat down alley, and sleeping in a bloody moldy sleeping bag in the backstreets of detroit, means you got to know how to fight, and that I learned at an early age. Don't mistake me, I might be a bloody alcoholic nowadays, but was quite into martial arts and kick boxing back when I was a kid and still had a good life. Too many people have yeah, underestimated me, and found out that even alcoholics can fight, whether they are currently drunk or not.
Jakob looked up at the sky. The clouds had now departed and the quarter moon was slowly retreating, as dawn was about to break upon this corrupt city. He slowly staggered to his feet and stretched his arms and back. He then glanced at Hank and patted him on his shoulder.
Jakob: Now if you can excuse me, I have some liquor stores that I need to visit.
The scene cuts as Jakob stumbles down the pile of bricks.[/size]
