Post by Dragon on Nov 30, 2016 13:45:31 GMT -5
Location: Boston, MA
Date: 11/27/16
Time: 8:35 P.M.
Date: 11/27/16
Time: 8:35 P.M.
"You're kidding me, please tell me you are Hanzo."
The shot opens up to Hunter and Hanzo both looking directly into a laptop screen seated in Hanzo's lap.
"It says it right there. Associate of Adam Wolfe. Say, didn't you encounter Wolfe a few times?"
"Within promotions I worked for, but never in the ring. Jesus, I didn't think that inbred mongrel had friends. God's sake man....."
He throws his arms up in a loss of words for what he has just seen, pacing away from the screen.
"Of all the people they schedule me with it's the one guy who somehow deals with a lunatic."
"It could've been worse for your case."
"How could it have been worse Hanzo?"
Scrolling along the laptop, Hanzo can only respond with a shrug of the shoulders.
"You could've been fighting a bear for all we know."
"I guess you're right......."
Briefly walking out of the shot, Storms returns with a bottle of water in hand. Drinking from it, he returns to his previous spot by Hanzo's seat.
"By the way, aren't you also scheduled to wrestle in the Alpha Cup?"
"Mhm. Against Trinity Jones."
"Who the hell is that?"
"One of the female competitors from the Resilience division. I haven't really studied up on her yet, but I'm bound to get my research done by Friday at the latest. What about you on Gale?"
"He's a schlub for all I care right now."
Angrily walking out of the shot, the water bottle comically comes flying back in, landing at Hanzo's feet who can only shake his head.
"Good talk coach."
Date: 11/28/16
Time: 11:40 A.M.
Time: 11:40 A.M.
Throughout the entire morning, Storms had been training in his local gym. The gym that his trainer had trained him in half a decade ago was still in working shape. To think for himself, that he was only 23 when he first entered the squared circle, and at the age of 24 did he capture his first ever world championship. Powering his legs on the treadmill, he breathed heavily as he sweat profusely. His shirt stained dark and his face nearly glistening as he continued to run in place. All he could do in that gym was train and reminisce on his past victories. His first victory, which also happened to be his professional debut. His first championship win, his first world championship win, and all the other title wins he could recall. It was the sight of titles and glory that changed who he once was. In the beginning, all he wanted was the pay and the respect of the fans. That's what drove him to perform to his best ability and also what drove him to win his first two championships. However, things changed when he was called down by a colleague of his that forever changed his perspective on things. He became cold towards others, his demeanor went from a kind looking gentleman, to a cold hearted mercenary. The mercenary part proved true back in Pure Amusement Wrestling where he laid waste to four people in the wake of his destruction. It was the true dark side of his former self and the beast had finally been unleashed onto its hunting grounds, where he could feed himself for days on end. Did he feel any remorse in the end? No, he didn't. He was getting paid to take out people, like an elite assassin. In the end, the ruthlessness proved to be a factor in bringing him glory as he captured the Crank title. Despite the company closing down, he never changed back even though he has teamed up with Hanzo. Just because Hanzo was good, didn't mean Storms would go back to being good.
"Was wondering where you had gone."
The voice nearly caused Storms to slip off the treadmill as he caught himself and clumsily jumped off the treadmill.
"You're reflexes certainly seem off Hunter. Something throwing you off?"
"No, just memories are flooding in again Hanzo. All the ups and downs that I've gone through on this roller coaster. The time I nearly broke because of the psychological warfare one man once used on me during a match. That's exactly what Austin has been trying to do on Twitter, but his tactic is so ineffective. First he's firing gay jokes at Benny, and then he's calling me a woman in almost every tweet. That shit just doesn't work these days. It makes a man look so boring and just down right a nuisance. No wonder he's 0-2 in this company so far."
"Well, so am I......"
"At least you have an excuse Hanzo. You're still relatively new, but then again so is he........I think."
Both look at each other, giving a shrug.
"I can say this though, judging from what I've read on his roster profile, he apparently calls himself 'The Playboy Prince' for some reason."
"Have you not seen the interactions he's had with Kimitsu Zombie on Twitter?"
"Aside from the dumb fights I've had on Twitter, does it look like I really pay attention to what happens on there?"
Hanzo wavers his hands side to side searching for a response, but remains quiet.
"Exactly."
The anger in Storms' voice almost sounds as if he was ready to explode as Hanzo struggles to find a response.
"Well.......he has certainly been flirting with her, not that you care but I just thought it would give you some insight into his nickname."
"Hanzo, tell me again what a playboy is."
"A wealthy man who spends his time enjoying himself, especially one who behaves irresponsibly or is sexually promiscuous."
"Good. Now let's list what he has. Wealth? Check. Behaves irresponsibly? Double check. Sexually promiscuous? Triple check. Pretty boys DO NOT belong in wrestling. Remember that Hanzo. They may be able to woo the crowd in some way but they're just schlubs come the end of the night."
The remark left the masked man in silence as Storms walked out of the shot towards the locker room. While stunned by the remark, it did leave the young wrestler something to think on for future reference.....
Time: 3:25 P.M.
Returning home, Storms silently made his way back up to his room. Since PAW closed down, he had been traveling all over to find a new place which meant he rarely got a break to return home. Stepping inside, everything had just about stayed the same. The sheets were still nicely laid out, his hoodies hung up in his walk in closet, but what really stood out was the cork board he had installed during his last few weeks. The board was cleared of what work he previously had hung up on it, but he didn't seemed bothered by it in the slightest. Sitting at the desk before the board, he reached down into the bottom drawer pulling out a red pen and piece of parchment. On the parchment he furiously scribbled the red pen left to right in such a focus that the writing seemed so fluid. Setting the pen down, he took hold of parchment and pinned it in the bottom left corner of the board. Neatly written on the paper, was information regarding Austin Gale, but it almost seemed to be written out of hate as the bottom of it read:
"This.........is your Death Note, Austin."
Slowly turning back towards the camera, Storms' ice cold stare pierced through the lens as he sat himself back down.
"There are two kinds of people that exist in this world: those who work to get what they want, and then there are those who think they can just easily make their way into anything. You are the latter of the two Austin. You think that just because of your charming looks and all that dirty money you have stuffed in your pockets that you can just mosey on in this place and become top dog, doggy. Well, I'm not sure if Wolfe ever told you, but that isn't how it works. Ask anyone here and they'll tell you that they have had to bust their assess day and night, day after day, week after f**king week. Judging from our talks on Twitter, you don't think I do that, do you? I've been in this business for five god damn years, and how long have you been in the squared circle? From what I've heard and seen, you're nothing but short of pathetic."
He folds his hands along the back of the his chair as he leans in closer.
"Tell me Austin, what can a pathetic pretty boy do to someone that's a five year veteran like me? You say you can beat people into submission, I've yet to see that. You're quickness? Don't seem fast to me, but according to someone on Twitter you're certainly quick in the sheets. Such a waste of a life you are Gale, but I can make it all end come Sunday."
He points back towards the paper with his thumb.
"As mentioned on that paper, this is your Death Note, Austin. You're going to wish that the staff never put you up against The Mercenary of Destruction once I break every single fragile bone in that glass body and then throw you into a body bag,because a stretcher won't be enough to carry away a lifeless corpse you spoiled pig. Prepare yourself, and your life for the most vicious beating that you will ever receive because Sunday, will be your Black Sunday."
Staring into the camera one last time, Storms slowly makes the cut throat gesture with his thumb as the camera fades to black.