Post by Red Bull Icon on Jul 25, 2009 21:34:08 GMT -5
(Our scene opens immediately following Sentinel to the brisk smell of Earl Grey tea. The muffled sounds of thousands of rowdy fans can still be heard. On the far wall a stainless steel hot bath sits empty on the tile floor, the white tile walls are mostly sparse save a counter top and large overhead cabinets to our left, the door behind us, and to our right sits Randy Boolzian, on an examining table, still in his wrestling tights with Doctor Professor checking on a gash across RBI’s hairline.
Dr. Professor surveys the wound before dabbing it with a sponge on the end of a pair of tongs. The Red Bull Icon tries his best to patiently sit while the good doctor goes about his duties, but by his expression it is clear that he does not like people that close to his face. Dr. Professor finishes cleaning the cut, takes another look, and then steps back in relief.)
Dr. Professor; “Blimey! I didn’t think we’d ever stop the bleeding, knowhatImean?”
BoolZ; “Not really. That’s kinda weird, I’ve never really been a bleeder.”
Dr. Professor; “Well, what say you let me get started on the stitches then?”
BoolZ; “Yeah, whatever, just make it quick. Hey, does it feel warm in here to you?”
(Doctor Professor slowly walks over to the counter displaying his medical bag. As the camera follows him we barely see what looks like the walls beginning to sweat. Doctor Professor is shown drying his hands on a white towel before returning to the table with his medicine bag.)
Dr. Professor; “Now that you mention it, I believe the air conditioner might have shut off.”
(A slow trickle of perspiration begins from the neck of BoolZ down his chest. The doctor removes a small kit, opens the leather case, and reveals numerous sizes of needles. The doctor slowly threads one with some black stitch, adjusts an over head lamp, and then produces a small vile and syringe.)
BoolZ; “Whoa, what’s that?”
Dr. Professor; “Just something to numb the area.”
BoolZ; “I don’t want it.”
Dr. Professor; “This is going to hurt like the dickens without something for the pain.”
BoolZ; “Will it hurt worse than getting cut open by a steel chair?”
Dr. Professor; “I’ve never been hit with a steel chair my good sir, but I believe that might be worse.”
BoolZ; “Yeah, then I don’t want it. Besides I’ve got my Red Bull, and that’s good for what ails ya.”
(With a smile BoolZ cracks open an 8.3 ounce can of heaven, holds it up to toast the doctor, and takes a swig. Doctor Professor acknowledges, and respects RBI’s, wishes as he dabs the wound once more with a cotton swab to dry the sweaty wound, and begins to carefully stitch shut the damage.)
Doctor Professor; “So, Master Boolzian tell me, what do you think of your chances at Guerilla Warfare?”
BoolZ; “Honestly, I’d put them about 20 percent.”
Doctor Professor; “Really, that low.”
BoolZ; “Well I think that’s fair. Really there are four other people in the match, and one of will win it. I’d say I’ve got a one in five shot.”
Doctor Professor; “Ay, that seems fair enough I suppose. You don’t think the entrance number will play a role?”
BoolZ; “Eh, I think the number will play a huge role, but the way this thing has shaped up so far I don’t think anyone can count on having a good number.”
(After a few minutes of conversation and concentration the door flings open startling Doctor Professor. As he jumps BoolZ winces as his scalp jumps with Doctor Professor’s hand. The doctor turns to face the door, as BoolZ takes the opportunity for another delicious swig of Red Bull, and the doctor is greeted with the lovely image of Cara Costello to which he quickly changes his tune.)
BoolZ; “What the hell, empty?”
“Excuse me?” Cara hissed.
Doctor Professor; “BOLLOCKS! All that work gone all to pot. Aw, Madam Costello my sincerest apologies. To what do we owe the honor?”
“I need him when you’re done, doctor.” She responded sharply almost ignoring Randy’s presence.
Doctor Professor; “Then I will hurry this along, so you may get about your work.”
(Cara gives a half hearted half empty smirk to the doctor causing him to return to his work, then leaving the room she makes sure to slam the door causing the doctor to jump once more.)
BoolZ; “Damn doc. Take it easy huh? She needs me.”
(With a quick snip of the thread Dr. Professor tosses his needle into the bag, stands back, and walks to the counter.)
Doctor Professor; “I would thank you not to say such things of the young lady in my presence sir.”
BoolZ; “What the hell? Everyone got a crush on that little leaky gutter? I’m just saying that’s a pretty sign Declan’s still out of it. I mean if we were able to get his, uhm, spirits up then surely she’d be right there under, beside, I mean beside him.”
(Doctor Professor searches the cabinet, and turns around with a band-aid in his hand.)
Doctor Professor; “We are about done here. Of course you know you will have to come see me again to remove those. I would strongly suggest biting your tongue the next time you experience the urge to disparage that lovely flower.”
(BoolZ hops off the table, pulls on a Sean Jensen tee shirt, and tosses the unexpectedly empty can into the trash. Doctor Professor places the bandage on RBI’s forehead, gives it a swift swat to make sure it is secure, and tosses the wrapper in the same garbage pail.)
BoolZ; “Alright, alright, you won’t hear another word about her.”
Doctor Professor; “Now be sure to let me check those when you get to Boston.”
BoolZ; “Oh yeah, sure, I wouldn’t miss it.”
(The next scene we’re shown is Cara Costello annoyingly tapping her high heel on the concrete floor of the arena standing in front of a door labeled ‘Sick Bay’. The door opens behind her folded arms, and she turns to address BoolZ with a snarl.)
BoolZ; “You wanted to see me?”
“That it? No smart ass remark about needs, whores, or air heads?” She spat viciously.
BoolZ; “No, why do you want one? I’m pretty sure I could come up with something.”
“NO!” Cara exclaimed in a frustrated voice, before composing herself. “You’ve got an appointment with a new sponsor.”
BoolZ; “Alright, and you came to get me? Wait, what, now!?! I haven’t even hit the showers yet.”
“I came to make sure you don’t screw this up. Follow me, now!.” She barked.
(Cara starts down the hallway at a hurried pace. BoolZ having competed in a grueling match earlier in the night clearly has difficulty keeping up with her long lean legs.)
“You need some personality for this meeting. They want you to be a public face for their product, and I really don’t think showing up and doing a bunch of cartwheels is going to cut it.” Ms. Costello ordered. “How are you going to sell them on you?”
(The pain on his face, etched deep, does little to stifle his tongue as he limps behind her.)
BoolZ; “What, like a gimmick? I, hell I don’t know. How about a hang out in the middle of know where, and drink Red Bull all day. You know better living through chemistry. I could even periodically lose control if I don’t get my fix.”
“If they wanted Andy Savana they would have asked for Andy Savana. Though I suggested Lord Hastings. Someone with some actual talent.” She shot back with a kind of animalistic ferocity as she sped up her pace.
(Trying to keep up.)
BoolZ; “Oh you mean someone you could control. Hey speaking of control, maybe I can pretend I’m like a James Bond kinda guy, only using this whole wrestling thing as a cover for my covert ops. I mean sure I’ll have to think of a way to explain why I don’t do any actual spy work, or service to the community, but it might make for some funny moments. You know as long we don’t take it to serious.”
“Maybe you should be a little more original, and careful. We already have Jack Ryans, and I don’t think he’d to happy hearing you mocking his profession.” She retorted as she turns a corner.
(When we turn the same corner we swear she was in mid sprint, as she seems to have lengthened her lead.)
BoolZ; “Yeah I guess that wasn’t very nice. Besides if I was James Bond I would find out who killed Dylan James’ mother or some other kind of actual investigation, so maybe that wouldn’t work. Hey I got it. I can surround myself with a bunch of goofy characters while trying to hide my own insecurities until one day I decide to exploit my troubled childhood, that really isn’t that bad compared to like half the roster, for my own gain today. You know a real rags to tee shirts story.”
“Well you got Savana, Ryans, there was Jenson, what’s next? Are you going to suggest you nail anything in a skirt?” Her tone does little to hide her frustration or her shortness of breath.
BoolZ; “Naw, I already do that, and Austin’s got nothing of me. He just gets labeled as the walking penis more because I tend to keep my exploits a little more private. After all I don’t need full frontal nudity to make myself famous. How about I say that all I ever wanted to be was the best wrestler of all time. I can start using my opponents move set against them, and nothing will stop my quest to the best.”
(Finally her pace slows to the stop, BoolZ in a hobbled jog at this point catches up to her instantly, and is quickly reminded why you at least pretend to respect your boss to her face as he feels the cold jolt followed by the warm sting of her palm across his cheek.)
“You don’t know the first thing about Declan Prescott, and let me tell you, you are not half the man he is. If he was here now I can assure you that you would not be undefeated like you are, unless he simply didn’t want to be bothered with competing against someone as low as yourself!” She roared, her finger in his face, and a fire in her eyes.
(Taken aback momentarily BoolZ enjoys the break from the swift march.)
BoolZ; “Wow, look at you all grown up. Did you picture yourself as Declan when you did that? Wait, you know that was low. I’m sorry. Here let me really try on this one. Hmm, I know. I can be that guy that no matter what obstacle gets thrown my way whether it is stables, surprise matches, hired guns, multiple opponents, or even muggings after the match I always find a way to win. I find that way to end up on top. I can be that guy that shows up, knocks back a couple Red Bulls, burns a few cigarettes, goes out there in front of thousands, and simply gets the job done. How’s that sound?”
“How is that any different then who you think you are now?” She inquired with a snide tone.
BoolZ; “Exactly.”
“Whatever, but you screw this up and cost the GIW this deal then you’ll quickly find yourself in nothing by handicap matches against McSkinny, Obese Tony, and Bones. And we’re here.” She hurled her words clearly self confident in the fact that she knew something BoolZ didn’t.
(Cara turns the handle of the door she stopped in front of, swings the door open, and then lets BoolZ enter the room first.)
BoolZ; “And let the ambush begin? Oh nice!”
(As we walk in we are overjoyed at the sight of three men sitting at a folding table each with a Red Bull in front of them, each with a Red Bull printed tie, and each wearing a Red Bull designed windbreaker. Turning to Cara.)
BoolZ; “Red Bull’s the sponsor? I beat three of the toughest guys on the roster tonight, and this is what makes my week! Cara I would hug you, but I don’t like you. (Turning to face the Red Bull trio.) So do I get free Red Bull or something? Can I get one of those jackets?”
(Hearing his words brings a devilish smile to Cara’s face as the man on the right responds.)
Red Bull Guy; “Uhm, Well, I though Ms. Costello would have filled you in. Our sponsorship is with the GIW. Any funds or gifts will go through your front office. I thought that was the deal. Uhm, Cara are we…”
“No, no, that’s the deal, and Mr. Boolzian will cooperate in any way he can. Randy, the look on your face is all I needed.” She sang like a siren as RBI’s expression goes from glee to disgust.
(She laughs herself out of the room, slams the door, and with it our scene ends.)
Dr. Professor surveys the wound before dabbing it with a sponge on the end of a pair of tongs. The Red Bull Icon tries his best to patiently sit while the good doctor goes about his duties, but by his expression it is clear that he does not like people that close to his face. Dr. Professor finishes cleaning the cut, takes another look, and then steps back in relief.)
Dr. Professor; “Blimey! I didn’t think we’d ever stop the bleeding, knowhatImean?”
BoolZ; “Not really. That’s kinda weird, I’ve never really been a bleeder.”
Dr. Professor; “Well, what say you let me get started on the stitches then?”
BoolZ; “Yeah, whatever, just make it quick. Hey, does it feel warm in here to you?”
(Doctor Professor slowly walks over to the counter displaying his medical bag. As the camera follows him we barely see what looks like the walls beginning to sweat. Doctor Professor is shown drying his hands on a white towel before returning to the table with his medicine bag.)
Dr. Professor; “Now that you mention it, I believe the air conditioner might have shut off.”
(A slow trickle of perspiration begins from the neck of BoolZ down his chest. The doctor removes a small kit, opens the leather case, and reveals numerous sizes of needles. The doctor slowly threads one with some black stitch, adjusts an over head lamp, and then produces a small vile and syringe.)
BoolZ; “Whoa, what’s that?”
Dr. Professor; “Just something to numb the area.”
BoolZ; “I don’t want it.”
Dr. Professor; “This is going to hurt like the dickens without something for the pain.”
BoolZ; “Will it hurt worse than getting cut open by a steel chair?”
Dr. Professor; “I’ve never been hit with a steel chair my good sir, but I believe that might be worse.”
BoolZ; “Yeah, then I don’t want it. Besides I’ve got my Red Bull, and that’s good for what ails ya.”
(With a smile BoolZ cracks open an 8.3 ounce can of heaven, holds it up to toast the doctor, and takes a swig. Doctor Professor acknowledges, and respects RBI’s, wishes as he dabs the wound once more with a cotton swab to dry the sweaty wound, and begins to carefully stitch shut the damage.)
Doctor Professor; “So, Master Boolzian tell me, what do you think of your chances at Guerilla Warfare?”
BoolZ; “Honestly, I’d put them about 20 percent.”
Doctor Professor; “Really, that low.”
BoolZ; “Well I think that’s fair. Really there are four other people in the match, and one of will win it. I’d say I’ve got a one in five shot.”
Doctor Professor; “Ay, that seems fair enough I suppose. You don’t think the entrance number will play a role?”
BoolZ; “Eh, I think the number will play a huge role, but the way this thing has shaped up so far I don’t think anyone can count on having a good number.”
(After a few minutes of conversation and concentration the door flings open startling Doctor Professor. As he jumps BoolZ winces as his scalp jumps with Doctor Professor’s hand. The doctor turns to face the door, as BoolZ takes the opportunity for another delicious swig of Red Bull, and the doctor is greeted with the lovely image of Cara Costello to which he quickly changes his tune.)
BoolZ; “What the hell, empty?”
“Excuse me?” Cara hissed.
Doctor Professor; “BOLLOCKS! All that work gone all to pot. Aw, Madam Costello my sincerest apologies. To what do we owe the honor?”
“I need him when you’re done, doctor.” She responded sharply almost ignoring Randy’s presence.
Doctor Professor; “Then I will hurry this along, so you may get about your work.”
(Cara gives a half hearted half empty smirk to the doctor causing him to return to his work, then leaving the room she makes sure to slam the door causing the doctor to jump once more.)
BoolZ; “Damn doc. Take it easy huh? She needs me.”
(With a quick snip of the thread Dr. Professor tosses his needle into the bag, stands back, and walks to the counter.)
Doctor Professor; “I would thank you not to say such things of the young lady in my presence sir.”
BoolZ; “What the hell? Everyone got a crush on that little leaky gutter? I’m just saying that’s a pretty sign Declan’s still out of it. I mean if we were able to get his, uhm, spirits up then surely she’d be right there under, beside, I mean beside him.”
(Doctor Professor searches the cabinet, and turns around with a band-aid in his hand.)
Doctor Professor; “We are about done here. Of course you know you will have to come see me again to remove those. I would strongly suggest biting your tongue the next time you experience the urge to disparage that lovely flower.”
(BoolZ hops off the table, pulls on a Sean Jensen tee shirt, and tosses the unexpectedly empty can into the trash. Doctor Professor places the bandage on RBI’s forehead, gives it a swift swat to make sure it is secure, and tosses the wrapper in the same garbage pail.)
BoolZ; “Alright, alright, you won’t hear another word about her.”
Doctor Professor; “Now be sure to let me check those when you get to Boston.”
BoolZ; “Oh yeah, sure, I wouldn’t miss it.”
(The next scene we’re shown is Cara Costello annoyingly tapping her high heel on the concrete floor of the arena standing in front of a door labeled ‘Sick Bay’. The door opens behind her folded arms, and she turns to address BoolZ with a snarl.)
BoolZ; “You wanted to see me?”
“That it? No smart ass remark about needs, whores, or air heads?” She spat viciously.
BoolZ; “No, why do you want one? I’m pretty sure I could come up with something.”
“NO!” Cara exclaimed in a frustrated voice, before composing herself. “You’ve got an appointment with a new sponsor.”
BoolZ; “Alright, and you came to get me? Wait, what, now!?! I haven’t even hit the showers yet.”
“I came to make sure you don’t screw this up. Follow me, now!.” She barked.
(Cara starts down the hallway at a hurried pace. BoolZ having competed in a grueling match earlier in the night clearly has difficulty keeping up with her long lean legs.)
“You need some personality for this meeting. They want you to be a public face for their product, and I really don’t think showing up and doing a bunch of cartwheels is going to cut it.” Ms. Costello ordered. “How are you going to sell them on you?”
(The pain on his face, etched deep, does little to stifle his tongue as he limps behind her.)
BoolZ; “What, like a gimmick? I, hell I don’t know. How about a hang out in the middle of know where, and drink Red Bull all day. You know better living through chemistry. I could even periodically lose control if I don’t get my fix.”
“If they wanted Andy Savana they would have asked for Andy Savana. Though I suggested Lord Hastings. Someone with some actual talent.” She shot back with a kind of animalistic ferocity as she sped up her pace.
(Trying to keep up.)
BoolZ; “Oh you mean someone you could control. Hey speaking of control, maybe I can pretend I’m like a James Bond kinda guy, only using this whole wrestling thing as a cover for my covert ops. I mean sure I’ll have to think of a way to explain why I don’t do any actual spy work, or service to the community, but it might make for some funny moments. You know as long we don’t take it to serious.”
“Maybe you should be a little more original, and careful. We already have Jack Ryans, and I don’t think he’d to happy hearing you mocking his profession.” She retorted as she turns a corner.
(When we turn the same corner we swear she was in mid sprint, as she seems to have lengthened her lead.)
BoolZ; “Yeah I guess that wasn’t very nice. Besides if I was James Bond I would find out who killed Dylan James’ mother or some other kind of actual investigation, so maybe that wouldn’t work. Hey I got it. I can surround myself with a bunch of goofy characters while trying to hide my own insecurities until one day I decide to exploit my troubled childhood, that really isn’t that bad compared to like half the roster, for my own gain today. You know a real rags to tee shirts story.”
“Well you got Savana, Ryans, there was Jenson, what’s next? Are you going to suggest you nail anything in a skirt?” Her tone does little to hide her frustration or her shortness of breath.
BoolZ; “Naw, I already do that, and Austin’s got nothing of me. He just gets labeled as the walking penis more because I tend to keep my exploits a little more private. After all I don’t need full frontal nudity to make myself famous. How about I say that all I ever wanted to be was the best wrestler of all time. I can start using my opponents move set against them, and nothing will stop my quest to the best.”
(Finally her pace slows to the stop, BoolZ in a hobbled jog at this point catches up to her instantly, and is quickly reminded why you at least pretend to respect your boss to her face as he feels the cold jolt followed by the warm sting of her palm across his cheek.)
“You don’t know the first thing about Declan Prescott, and let me tell you, you are not half the man he is. If he was here now I can assure you that you would not be undefeated like you are, unless he simply didn’t want to be bothered with competing against someone as low as yourself!” She roared, her finger in his face, and a fire in her eyes.
(Taken aback momentarily BoolZ enjoys the break from the swift march.)
BoolZ; “Wow, look at you all grown up. Did you picture yourself as Declan when you did that? Wait, you know that was low. I’m sorry. Here let me really try on this one. Hmm, I know. I can be that guy that no matter what obstacle gets thrown my way whether it is stables, surprise matches, hired guns, multiple opponents, or even muggings after the match I always find a way to win. I find that way to end up on top. I can be that guy that shows up, knocks back a couple Red Bulls, burns a few cigarettes, goes out there in front of thousands, and simply gets the job done. How’s that sound?”
“How is that any different then who you think you are now?” She inquired with a snide tone.
BoolZ; “Exactly.”
“Whatever, but you screw this up and cost the GIW this deal then you’ll quickly find yourself in nothing by handicap matches against McSkinny, Obese Tony, and Bones. And we’re here.” She hurled her words clearly self confident in the fact that she knew something BoolZ didn’t.
(Cara turns the handle of the door she stopped in front of, swings the door open, and then lets BoolZ enter the room first.)
BoolZ; “And let the ambush begin? Oh nice!”
(As we walk in we are overjoyed at the sight of three men sitting at a folding table each with a Red Bull in front of them, each with a Red Bull printed tie, and each wearing a Red Bull designed windbreaker. Turning to Cara.)
BoolZ; “Red Bull’s the sponsor? I beat three of the toughest guys on the roster tonight, and this is what makes my week! Cara I would hug you, but I don’t like you. (Turning to face the Red Bull trio.) So do I get free Red Bull or something? Can I get one of those jackets?”
(Hearing his words brings a devilish smile to Cara’s face as the man on the right responds.)
Red Bull Guy; “Uhm, Well, I though Ms. Costello would have filled you in. Our sponsorship is with the GIW. Any funds or gifts will go through your front office. I thought that was the deal. Uhm, Cara are we…”
“No, no, that’s the deal, and Mr. Boolzian will cooperate in any way he can. Randy, the look on your face is all I needed.” She sang like a siren as RBI’s expression goes from glee to disgust.
(She laughs herself out of the room, slams the door, and with it our scene ends.)
