Post by Red Bull Icon on Jul 25, 2009 23:05:59 GMT -5
--Saturday following the last Sentinel—
(Our scene opens inside the back hallways of GIW Arena shortly after thousands of fans poured from the complex above. The bitter taste from the closing moments of the main event still lingers in the air. The event staff has been working tirelessly from the time the lights went down, and will more than likely continue until the sun comes up. We follow one such employee as he pushes a large grey container filled with the refuse and garbage from the ring. We follow the janitor as he walks alone until finally passing the dressing room door of the current Hardcore Champion Randy Boolzian.
The door flies open, and wasting no time BoolZ storms from the portal with Conni in tow. We follow as BoolZ quickly over takes the janitor and his heavy cargo. We follow the Red Bull Icon as he passes many of the nameless denizens that litter and contribute to the weekly event. We follow RBI until he reaches a large set of steel double doors, goes to push the barrier aside, and is halted by a familiar yet at present unwelcomed voice.)
??; “So we’re gonna have one slobber knocker of a ho-down next week, eh?”
(BoolZ pauses for a moment at the door before slowly turning to his right. We are greeted by the sight of the Crimson Ghost sitting on an equipment case playing a very old original Nintendo Gameboy. Crimson Ghost keeps his head down, though to be honest his cowl obscures most of his head.)
BoolZ; “No, you’re going to tell you’re student to bow out.”
(The Crimson Ghost hops from the container, but keeps his focus we believe on the video game.)
The Crimson Ghost; “Flabbergasted he sprung to his feet trying to intimidate or startle the young whelp. The Crimson Ghost is unsure if he succeeded, but it’s clear the Hardcore Champion is unsure of what game I am playing! Silent at first I responded.
Bow out! Are you insane? Why on god’s green rotten earth which is mostly blue by the way would I tell Chinatsu to bow out?
Oh and before I forget the Crimson Ghost was playing Tetris and needed a damn squiggly or he’ll never get high score.”
(BoolZ stood there his eyes squinting trying to sift through the assault on the moment that the Crimson Ghost just unleashed.)
BoolZ; “Whatever. Listen you’re going to, or at least should, tell her to step aside because she’s not ready. She’s a flyer, and no one flies like me. She’s a striker, but she gives up a hundred pounds to me. She a speedy little thing, but I’m one of few people on the roster that can even she can’t keep up with. She’s a risk taker, but if she insists on taking this risk she is going to fall. And it was hurt, a lot.”
The Crimson Ghost; “Oh the foolish bravado would be humorous if not for being so misguided. I quickly shot back as my eyes finally deviated from the screen to meet his. I had lost anyway. Damn squiggly never showed up.
I do believe my dear puppy pooper-scooper that you are ignoring the obvious facts. Ms. Chen does not need to fly higher, hit harder, or beat you at a foot race. All she needs to do is pin your shoulders to the mat, or make you submit. A task that with each underestimated statement simply becomes easier for her to do.
The Crimson Ghost having made my point diverts his attention back to the screen. It’s time for a new game while awaiting the braggart’s retort. Come on squigg…”
(BoolZ snatches the Gameboy brick from Crimson Ghost, and hurls it down the hallway. The Crimson Ghost leaves his face down staring at the floor now while his thumbs continue as if playing a game.)
BoolZ; “Listen to me you stupid little fool. Don’t think for a second I’m underestimating Chinatsu, but you said it yourself. All she’s gotta do is pin me or make me submit. Think about that for a second because that’s something Roberts hasn’t been able to do yet. Something Savana couldn’t do, and really hasn’t been seen too much of as of late. Something Aragato never was able to pull off. Something Diamond Jack tried and failed to do for damn near a solid month. Need I go on?
Yeah think about that for a moment. And then when you’re done think about this. If she insists on stepping in the ring with me next week I’m going to assume you failed at talking her out of the match, and I will blame you for making me convince her. I aint ever really been to good with my words, so I’m going to have to physically convince her that at Distant Whispers anywhere but in the ring with me is the best place to be. You see I’m going to win next week, then I’m going to pick the most sadistic twisted brutal match for the pay-per-view, and if she shows up I’m going to make her wish she was still losing to princess whores whose biggest concern is making sure their hair is perfect and there face doesn’t get to messed up.
Ghost, please, I’m begging you don’t make me beat her. Don’t make me hurt her like that, because you know I will.”
The Crimson Ghost; “His hands shook, his muscles tensed, and his teeth clenched. With fire and rage and hatred the masked man looked up from his game to confront… where the hell did he go?”
(The Crimson Ghost looks around before noticing the sounds of hundreds of fans cheering and demanding autographs coming from the slowly closing steel door. Our scene fades as the Crimson Ghost shrugs his shoulders, and on one foot hops down the hallway in search of his game.)
--Wednesday 11:00--
(We fade back in and it’s clear we are inside what is a franchise gym facility. We’ve been here before. The tiled floors and spiked hair still shine with fresh coats of product. The chrome finished free weights and bleached teeth sparkle even brighter under the fluorescent lighting than they did the last time. Sweat continues to pours out, money continues to pour in, and clearly there is nothing more important in the world than cutting that last extra .5% of body fat. Egos and muscle flex, spandex and tendons stretch, and vision and reality blur. It’s business as usual, and with time the name ‘Quinn’ has become nothing but a distant memory. Out of sight out of mind.
We look past the yoga class focusing on the co-eds limbering up, the muscle men still push harder to more disfigure their forms, and the tread mills are empty this time. We finally find our prey at the weight machine. Chris Austin continues his seated bench press, finishes, stands, and make room for a still venting Randy Boolzian as he takes his place on the machine.)
BoolZ; “…I mean what the hell am I supposed to do? Beat up a girl. I little hundred pound something cutie? Prescott’s trying to make me ruin her.”
(Austin huffs, shakes his head, and wipes his face with his towel as BoolZ starts press the weights.)
CA; “You know I don’t get you sometimes.”
(Struggling with the weight Austin had set, but to stubborn to admit defeat and change the setting.)
BoolZ; “Gaw, what’s ta get?”
CA; “Dude, you know you’re not the only one facing a bitch this week. I got Sean Jen… Cyanide, and Chassie Fear is facing James and that knew guy. Friar Fuck or what ever his name is.”
(His face beet red and with heavy breath.)
BoolZ; “Yeah but Chen… is gonna put up… more of a fight… than Sean. And I don’t… have a god… or devil to… justify my actions. What I do… is because… I choose to… do!”
(Finishing the last rep BoolZ lets the metal plates clang together, and quickly exits the apparatus. BoolZ wipes down the machine, lets his arms fall limp at his sides, and Austin sits down for a second set. He smiles and winks at a pair of bleach blonde women across the room before upping the weight, and pushing forward.)
CA; “Alright, but that’s not the only thing. You told me you bought a house before shipping off to Japan, right? But then when you told me it burned down it wasn’t that bad because you only stayed there like five or six times in three years. What the hell was that?”
(BoolZ turns to gaze at the women. He seems unimpressed, turns his attention back to his friend, and responds.)
BoolZ; “Life on the road, who has time to go home every night?”
CA; “Oceanside’s like a 40 minute commute from the arena, but what ever. Lets talk pussy. You’re the only guy that could possibly rival my quantity. No where near the quality, I’ve seen what you pull, but still no one else comes close to the sheer volume. But with you it’s weird. It’s like it’s different for you. It’s like there’s some strange alternative reason for you besides just pleasure. What’s that about?”
(Austin finishes his set, adjusts the weights for BoolZ, stands, wipes down the machine, and gives way to the Red Bull Icon. RBI gestures ‘yeah yeah’ with his hands, sits down, and sets to work noticing the blonde pair now staring at the only two GIW Hardcore Champions in history.)
BoolZ; “What? I like the lovin’ is it so strange that I express my pleasure slightly different?”
CA; “Whatever, what about the panties?”
BoolZ; “What about the panties?”
CA; “Dude, you keep their panties! That’s pretty screwed up I think, what the hell is with that? I mean what do you do with them?”
BoolZ; “You just never mind the panties. I’m saving them up so when I eventually face Brandon one on one I can distract him with some real ‘treasure’.”
(BoolZ finishes his set, same routine wiping down the machine, and Austin takes his sit. The blonde women on the other side of the gym now openly giggle and play as Austin eyes them both.)
CA; “If you say so, dude. How about your record? You’re like what 17-18 and 1 or some shit?”
BoolZ; “Alright, I’ve been lucky so far. What’s not to get?”
CA; “Oh yeah you’ve been lucky. But still when that was me on that kinda roll I told everyone. You though, shit man, you hardly even talk to anyone from what I’ve seen. Shit just me and the bitches.”
BoolZ; “What can I say? Bitches is the only ones that get the Red Bull Icon. And I don’t see that being so weird.”
CA; “Fuck you too. And whatever. Fuck it. What about your contract? You sign it yet? What’d they offer?”
BoolZ; “No, I got it though, and it’s actually a good offer. Basic guarantee, loaded with incentives, and even a share of merchandising.”
CA; “So you staying? Why havn’t you signed it?”
BoolZ; “I still got time. Contracts not up until the close of this weeks show. Besides, I’ma sign it. I already talked to Prescott let him know. He seemed almost to happy, though.”
(Austin finishes his set, and stands up.)
CA; “Well good, I still want my title back. Alright, cool down, and call it a day?”
BoolZ; “Sounds good. You find a partner for the tag tournament?”
CA; “I’m not to worried about that partner yet. Which one you want?”
(Austin motions towards the women, BoolZ turns to size up the choice, and then shakes his head.)
BoolZ; “Nah, not really my type. Take’em both.”
(Austin looks at BoolZ in shock, and then pushes past the current Hardcore Champion.)
CA; “What ever homo. See ya at the arena.”
(The scene ends with Austin off to his ‘cool down’, and BoolZ giving the press one more go.)
--Saturday One hour before Sentinel--
(We rejoin the scene back in the back halls of GIW Arena. Event staff, the nameless citizens that populate and pollute their surroundings, rush to ensure all goes well with the live broadcast. We see BoolZ wearing his wrestling gear and an old but comfortable ‘Sean Jensen; Are You a Fan’ t-shirt leave his dressing room carrying a small pile of folded paper. We follow RBI down the hallway. We follow the Red Bull Icon noticing that same hitch in his step as he passed Chinatsu Chen’s dressing room. We follow Randy Boolzian right into a door labeled ‘Declan Prescott’.)
“Don’t you knock?” The familiar voice of Cara pierced through the air.
(Declan sitting in his leather chair behind his solid desk with Cara sitting on his lap is the first thing we notice upon entering the room. BoolZ simply places the papers on Declan’s desk, and turns to leave.)
“Oh good is this your contract?” The owner said with just a hint of to much enthusiasm. “Hold on, BoolZ.”
(BoolZ stops to face the Significant Player.)
BoolZ; “Yeah that’s it. Guess you’re stuck with me now.”
“Wow, I think I’m kind of mixed about that. Either way, you do make me money.” Prescott’s words were more of an attack than anything else, and he wasn’t ready to relent. “So you going through with the match I see. All geared up, and what not.”
BoolZ; “No, I’m pretty sure Ghost talked Chinatsu out of it.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. I was looking forward to hearing the fans rip you apart.” It was now a joint attack as Cara joined the conversation.
(BoolZ with a slight smirk.)
BoolZ; “Yeah well, those fans are a fickle bunch. Besides, given enough time I’ve disappointed everyone who’s ever known me. You two heathens speeding up the process isn’t going to cause me to lose any sleep.”
“What if she doesn’t get talked out of the match? Are you ready to be the one to shatter that little porcelain princess?” Declan’s words cut, but not deep enough to be effective.
BoolZ; “Yeah, and you know I gotta say Prescott I was a little surprised at your error.”
“Error? Kid I’m so far ahead of you I'm actually a little surprised you think you can see my moves.” Retorted with forked tongue the owner.
BoolZ; “Yeah well. From back here it looks like at Horizons I get to pick my match. Now let’s assume Chen holds true to her ox headed family ways, and takes me on. Let’s look forward to Distant Whispers, and why don’t we just assume I win tonight, so I get to pick the stipulation. I mean if she wrestles tonight, she’s gonna wrestle at the pay-pay-view. So I pick some barbaric stipulation for the match, and rid the GIW of the Chen family name. You win right?”
“I win either way. No more Chens, or no more BoolZ Hardcore Champion. I can’t lose.” A sinister grin sliding across Prescott’s face.
(With dead eyes BoolZ locks his focus on Cara. Declans wife does her best to stay strong, and almost succeeds.)
BoolZ; “Yeah, I guess you got Distant Whispers in the bag, but what of Horizons? I mean what if I decide after beating up Chinatsu that I’ve been wasting my time wrestling men. What if I decide I only really want to fight women? I mean the fans already hate me, so no need to worry about the reaction, and McSkinny paved the way. What if I decide I only want to fight women, but not just fight, but brutalize. I’m talking two man Battleground match. No interference because of the barbwire. No escape, no mercy, no forgiveness.”
(Declan leans back with a prominent scowl now etched into his brow. Before he responds.)
“What is it like being so filled with hate?” Curiosity mixed with concern flutters around Cara words.
BoolZ; “Cara, I don’t hate you? I don’t have to.”
“No, you hate yourself.” Fear and spite now strengthened her words.
(He almost forgets Declan is in the room. He almost forgets about his match with a woman. He almost forgets that he almost enjoys the verbal confrontations he and her have had in the past. Almost.)
BoolZ; “Cara if I need advice on sucking strange dick or convincing myself that 60 bucks is worth getting plowed by some fat hairy john while standing in a puddle of piss behind some seedy strip joint I’ll seek you out. I’ll look for your insight on your area of expertise. Until then don’t analyze me, and keep you opinions in Declan’s lap where they belong. Now I guess I gotta go make some money for ya.”
(Before either can respond BoolZ turns and storms from the office. Declan gritting his teeth as his eyes bulge. Cara calm, simply smiles. Neither looking at the other.)
“You looked into that thing a couple weeks ago, right?” Declan roared.
“Yeah, it’s all set up. You should tell him after the show tonight.” Cara’s words slithered from her tongue.
(The scene and BoolZ’s week comes to an end.)
(Our scene opens inside the back hallways of GIW Arena shortly after thousands of fans poured from the complex above. The bitter taste from the closing moments of the main event still lingers in the air. The event staff has been working tirelessly from the time the lights went down, and will more than likely continue until the sun comes up. We follow one such employee as he pushes a large grey container filled with the refuse and garbage from the ring. We follow the janitor as he walks alone until finally passing the dressing room door of the current Hardcore Champion Randy Boolzian.
The door flies open, and wasting no time BoolZ storms from the portal with Conni in tow. We follow as BoolZ quickly over takes the janitor and his heavy cargo. We follow the Red Bull Icon as he passes many of the nameless denizens that litter and contribute to the weekly event. We follow RBI until he reaches a large set of steel double doors, goes to push the barrier aside, and is halted by a familiar yet at present unwelcomed voice.)
??; “So we’re gonna have one slobber knocker of a ho-down next week, eh?”
(BoolZ pauses for a moment at the door before slowly turning to his right. We are greeted by the sight of the Crimson Ghost sitting on an equipment case playing a very old original Nintendo Gameboy. Crimson Ghost keeps his head down, though to be honest his cowl obscures most of his head.)
BoolZ; “No, you’re going to tell you’re student to bow out.”
(The Crimson Ghost hops from the container, but keeps his focus we believe on the video game.)
The Crimson Ghost; “Flabbergasted he sprung to his feet trying to intimidate or startle the young whelp. The Crimson Ghost is unsure if he succeeded, but it’s clear the Hardcore Champion is unsure of what game I am playing! Silent at first I responded.
Bow out! Are you insane? Why on god’s green rotten earth which is mostly blue by the way would I tell Chinatsu to bow out?
Oh and before I forget the Crimson Ghost was playing Tetris and needed a damn squiggly or he’ll never get high score.”
(BoolZ stood there his eyes squinting trying to sift through the assault on the moment that the Crimson Ghost just unleashed.)
BoolZ; “Whatever. Listen you’re going to, or at least should, tell her to step aside because she’s not ready. She’s a flyer, and no one flies like me. She’s a striker, but she gives up a hundred pounds to me. She a speedy little thing, but I’m one of few people on the roster that can even she can’t keep up with. She’s a risk taker, but if she insists on taking this risk she is going to fall. And it was hurt, a lot.”
The Crimson Ghost; “Oh the foolish bravado would be humorous if not for being so misguided. I quickly shot back as my eyes finally deviated from the screen to meet his. I had lost anyway. Damn squiggly never showed up.
I do believe my dear puppy pooper-scooper that you are ignoring the obvious facts. Ms. Chen does not need to fly higher, hit harder, or beat you at a foot race. All she needs to do is pin your shoulders to the mat, or make you submit. A task that with each underestimated statement simply becomes easier for her to do.
The Crimson Ghost having made my point diverts his attention back to the screen. It’s time for a new game while awaiting the braggart’s retort. Come on squigg…”
(BoolZ snatches the Gameboy brick from Crimson Ghost, and hurls it down the hallway. The Crimson Ghost leaves his face down staring at the floor now while his thumbs continue as if playing a game.)
BoolZ; “Listen to me you stupid little fool. Don’t think for a second I’m underestimating Chinatsu, but you said it yourself. All she’s gotta do is pin me or make me submit. Think about that for a second because that’s something Roberts hasn’t been able to do yet. Something Savana couldn’t do, and really hasn’t been seen too much of as of late. Something Aragato never was able to pull off. Something Diamond Jack tried and failed to do for damn near a solid month. Need I go on?
Yeah think about that for a moment. And then when you’re done think about this. If she insists on stepping in the ring with me next week I’m going to assume you failed at talking her out of the match, and I will blame you for making me convince her. I aint ever really been to good with my words, so I’m going to have to physically convince her that at Distant Whispers anywhere but in the ring with me is the best place to be. You see I’m going to win next week, then I’m going to pick the most sadistic twisted brutal match for the pay-per-view, and if she shows up I’m going to make her wish she was still losing to princess whores whose biggest concern is making sure their hair is perfect and there face doesn’t get to messed up.
Ghost, please, I’m begging you don’t make me beat her. Don’t make me hurt her like that, because you know I will.”
The Crimson Ghost; “His hands shook, his muscles tensed, and his teeth clenched. With fire and rage and hatred the masked man looked up from his game to confront… where the hell did he go?”
(The Crimson Ghost looks around before noticing the sounds of hundreds of fans cheering and demanding autographs coming from the slowly closing steel door. Our scene fades as the Crimson Ghost shrugs his shoulders, and on one foot hops down the hallway in search of his game.)
--Wednesday 11:00--
(We fade back in and it’s clear we are inside what is a franchise gym facility. We’ve been here before. The tiled floors and spiked hair still shine with fresh coats of product. The chrome finished free weights and bleached teeth sparkle even brighter under the fluorescent lighting than they did the last time. Sweat continues to pours out, money continues to pour in, and clearly there is nothing more important in the world than cutting that last extra .5% of body fat. Egos and muscle flex, spandex and tendons stretch, and vision and reality blur. It’s business as usual, and with time the name ‘Quinn’ has become nothing but a distant memory. Out of sight out of mind.
We look past the yoga class focusing on the co-eds limbering up, the muscle men still push harder to more disfigure their forms, and the tread mills are empty this time. We finally find our prey at the weight machine. Chris Austin continues his seated bench press, finishes, stands, and make room for a still venting Randy Boolzian as he takes his place on the machine.)
BoolZ; “…I mean what the hell am I supposed to do? Beat up a girl. I little hundred pound something cutie? Prescott’s trying to make me ruin her.”
(Austin huffs, shakes his head, and wipes his face with his towel as BoolZ starts press the weights.)
CA; “You know I don’t get you sometimes.”
(Struggling with the weight Austin had set, but to stubborn to admit defeat and change the setting.)
BoolZ; “Gaw, what’s ta get?”
CA; “Dude, you know you’re not the only one facing a bitch this week. I got Sean Jen… Cyanide, and Chassie Fear is facing James and that knew guy. Friar Fuck or what ever his name is.”
(His face beet red and with heavy breath.)
BoolZ; “Yeah but Chen… is gonna put up… more of a fight… than Sean. And I don’t… have a god… or devil to… justify my actions. What I do… is because… I choose to… do!”
(Finishing the last rep BoolZ lets the metal plates clang together, and quickly exits the apparatus. BoolZ wipes down the machine, lets his arms fall limp at his sides, and Austin sits down for a second set. He smiles and winks at a pair of bleach blonde women across the room before upping the weight, and pushing forward.)
CA; “Alright, but that’s not the only thing. You told me you bought a house before shipping off to Japan, right? But then when you told me it burned down it wasn’t that bad because you only stayed there like five or six times in three years. What the hell was that?”
(BoolZ turns to gaze at the women. He seems unimpressed, turns his attention back to his friend, and responds.)
BoolZ; “Life on the road, who has time to go home every night?”
CA; “Oceanside’s like a 40 minute commute from the arena, but what ever. Lets talk pussy. You’re the only guy that could possibly rival my quantity. No where near the quality, I’ve seen what you pull, but still no one else comes close to the sheer volume. But with you it’s weird. It’s like it’s different for you. It’s like there’s some strange alternative reason for you besides just pleasure. What’s that about?”
(Austin finishes his set, adjusts the weights for BoolZ, stands, wipes down the machine, and gives way to the Red Bull Icon. RBI gestures ‘yeah yeah’ with his hands, sits down, and sets to work noticing the blonde pair now staring at the only two GIW Hardcore Champions in history.)
BoolZ; “What? I like the lovin’ is it so strange that I express my pleasure slightly different?”
CA; “Whatever, what about the panties?”
BoolZ; “What about the panties?”
CA; “Dude, you keep their panties! That’s pretty screwed up I think, what the hell is with that? I mean what do you do with them?”
BoolZ; “You just never mind the panties. I’m saving them up so when I eventually face Brandon one on one I can distract him with some real ‘treasure’.”
(BoolZ finishes his set, same routine wiping down the machine, and Austin takes his sit. The blonde women on the other side of the gym now openly giggle and play as Austin eyes them both.)
CA; “If you say so, dude. How about your record? You’re like what 17-18 and 1 or some shit?”
BoolZ; “Alright, I’ve been lucky so far. What’s not to get?”
CA; “Oh yeah you’ve been lucky. But still when that was me on that kinda roll I told everyone. You though, shit man, you hardly even talk to anyone from what I’ve seen. Shit just me and the bitches.”
BoolZ; “What can I say? Bitches is the only ones that get the Red Bull Icon. And I don’t see that being so weird.”
CA; “Fuck you too. And whatever. Fuck it. What about your contract? You sign it yet? What’d they offer?”
BoolZ; “No, I got it though, and it’s actually a good offer. Basic guarantee, loaded with incentives, and even a share of merchandising.”
CA; “So you staying? Why havn’t you signed it?”
BoolZ; “I still got time. Contracts not up until the close of this weeks show. Besides, I’ma sign it. I already talked to Prescott let him know. He seemed almost to happy, though.”
(Austin finishes his set, and stands up.)
CA; “Well good, I still want my title back. Alright, cool down, and call it a day?”
BoolZ; “Sounds good. You find a partner for the tag tournament?”
CA; “I’m not to worried about that partner yet. Which one you want?”
(Austin motions towards the women, BoolZ turns to size up the choice, and then shakes his head.)
BoolZ; “Nah, not really my type. Take’em both.”
(Austin looks at BoolZ in shock, and then pushes past the current Hardcore Champion.)
CA; “What ever homo. See ya at the arena.”
(The scene ends with Austin off to his ‘cool down’, and BoolZ giving the press one more go.)
--Saturday One hour before Sentinel--
(We rejoin the scene back in the back halls of GIW Arena. Event staff, the nameless citizens that populate and pollute their surroundings, rush to ensure all goes well with the live broadcast. We see BoolZ wearing his wrestling gear and an old but comfortable ‘Sean Jensen; Are You a Fan’ t-shirt leave his dressing room carrying a small pile of folded paper. We follow RBI down the hallway. We follow the Red Bull Icon noticing that same hitch in his step as he passed Chinatsu Chen’s dressing room. We follow Randy Boolzian right into a door labeled ‘Declan Prescott’.)
“Don’t you knock?” The familiar voice of Cara pierced through the air.
(Declan sitting in his leather chair behind his solid desk with Cara sitting on his lap is the first thing we notice upon entering the room. BoolZ simply places the papers on Declan’s desk, and turns to leave.)
“Oh good is this your contract?” The owner said with just a hint of to much enthusiasm. “Hold on, BoolZ.”
(BoolZ stops to face the Significant Player.)
BoolZ; “Yeah that’s it. Guess you’re stuck with me now.”
“Wow, I think I’m kind of mixed about that. Either way, you do make me money.” Prescott’s words were more of an attack than anything else, and he wasn’t ready to relent. “So you going through with the match I see. All geared up, and what not.”
BoolZ; “No, I’m pretty sure Ghost talked Chinatsu out of it.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. I was looking forward to hearing the fans rip you apart.” It was now a joint attack as Cara joined the conversation.
(BoolZ with a slight smirk.)
BoolZ; “Yeah well, those fans are a fickle bunch. Besides, given enough time I’ve disappointed everyone who’s ever known me. You two heathens speeding up the process isn’t going to cause me to lose any sleep.”
“What if she doesn’t get talked out of the match? Are you ready to be the one to shatter that little porcelain princess?” Declan’s words cut, but not deep enough to be effective.
BoolZ; “Yeah, and you know I gotta say Prescott I was a little surprised at your error.”
“Error? Kid I’m so far ahead of you I'm actually a little surprised you think you can see my moves.” Retorted with forked tongue the owner.
BoolZ; “Yeah well. From back here it looks like at Horizons I get to pick my match. Now let’s assume Chen holds true to her ox headed family ways, and takes me on. Let’s look forward to Distant Whispers, and why don’t we just assume I win tonight, so I get to pick the stipulation. I mean if she wrestles tonight, she’s gonna wrestle at the pay-pay-view. So I pick some barbaric stipulation for the match, and rid the GIW of the Chen family name. You win right?”
“I win either way. No more Chens, or no more BoolZ Hardcore Champion. I can’t lose.” A sinister grin sliding across Prescott’s face.
(With dead eyes BoolZ locks his focus on Cara. Declans wife does her best to stay strong, and almost succeeds.)
BoolZ; “Yeah, I guess you got Distant Whispers in the bag, but what of Horizons? I mean what if I decide after beating up Chinatsu that I’ve been wasting my time wrestling men. What if I decide I only really want to fight women? I mean the fans already hate me, so no need to worry about the reaction, and McSkinny paved the way. What if I decide I only want to fight women, but not just fight, but brutalize. I’m talking two man Battleground match. No interference because of the barbwire. No escape, no mercy, no forgiveness.”
(Declan leans back with a prominent scowl now etched into his brow. Before he responds.)
“What is it like being so filled with hate?” Curiosity mixed with concern flutters around Cara words.
BoolZ; “Cara, I don’t hate you? I don’t have to.”
“No, you hate yourself.” Fear and spite now strengthened her words.
(He almost forgets Declan is in the room. He almost forgets about his match with a woman. He almost forgets that he almost enjoys the verbal confrontations he and her have had in the past. Almost.)
BoolZ; “Cara if I need advice on sucking strange dick or convincing myself that 60 bucks is worth getting plowed by some fat hairy john while standing in a puddle of piss behind some seedy strip joint I’ll seek you out. I’ll look for your insight on your area of expertise. Until then don’t analyze me, and keep you opinions in Declan’s lap where they belong. Now I guess I gotta go make some money for ya.”
(Before either can respond BoolZ turns and storms from the office. Declan gritting his teeth as his eyes bulge. Cara calm, simply smiles. Neither looking at the other.)
“You looked into that thing a couple weeks ago, right?” Declan roared.
“Yeah, it’s all set up. You should tell him after the show tonight.” Cara’s words slithered from her tongue.
(The scene and BoolZ’s week comes to an end.)
