Post by Lord Hastings on Jul 27, 2009 14:55:56 GMT -5
Owen Peterson is getting his things together hastily in his locker room. He throws some things in a bag, but as he turns around he sees Donovan standing in the doorway. Peterson freezes.
Peterson: Lord-Chief...
Donovan stares at him.
Peterson: I...I know that Sentinel didn't go as you expected.
Donovan stares at him. Peterson takes a step back.
Peterson: You should have won the GIW.com Championship, I know. It's yours by right.
Donovan stares at him.
Peterson: It was your destiny.
Donovan enters the room and walks past him.
Peterson: I should have-
Hastings: Forget it.
Peterson: I mean, you've told me-
Hastings: Owen.
Peterson freezes, and takes a step back as Donovan looks back at him.
Hastings: I said forget it.
Peterson looks down as Donovan turns away from him. Donovan closes his eyes.
Hastings: What have I done here?
Peterson hesitates.
Hastings: Tell me.
Peterson: You won your debut match on Pay-Per-View, at No Holds Barred.
Hastings: And it earned me a match against Chris Austin the next month, which I lost.
Peterson: You were in the first ever Battleground match.
Hastings: Which I lost.
Peterson: You...you led a crusade for justice when you were...persecuted against...by...uh...
Hastings: Spare yourself.
Peterson: You did spend a lot of time with that, I'm just saying.
Hastings: And we know how that worked out.
Donovan opens his eyes.
Hastings: You know where all that has brought me?
He looks back at Peterson, and Peterson hesitates again. Donovan quickly snatches up a chair and begins smashing it against the bench.
Hastings: AB. SO. LUTE. LEE. NOWHERE.
Donovan flings the chair against the wall, and the impact leaves behind and intent. Donovan has his head down, breathing heavily.
Hastings: Fucking nowhere. A long road to nowhere, that's all my career has been.
Donovan looks at Peterson.
Hastings: I've sweat, and I've bled. I've promised pain and chaos, and I've delivered. I've made good on many a threat. Yet when it matters, when the chips are down, when it is time to deliver onto myself my destiny, to play the endgame, I'm left with nothing. NOTHING.
He stares at the damaged wall.
Hastings: And the walls are coming down around me. So you tell me, what am I supposed to do now?
Donovan looks back at Peterson.
Peterson: You're really asking my opinion?
Hastings: How much further could I really possibly sink? How much deeper could this hole really possibly go? Yes, I'm asking your opinion.
Peterson takes a deep breath.
Peterson: Hoo...okay. Can't believe I'm going to say this, but...you finish what you've started. You continue to embrace what you've been doing. You insist that you're the true...the true Chief Nigga, and you beat Gabrielle and then nobody can take it from you.
Hastings: Gabrielle...
Peterson: You beat her, you can put all your demons to rest. All of them.
After a moment, Donovan nods his head.
Peterson: You beat Severino this week, you can have Gabrielle any way you want her.
Donovan glances at him with a raised eyebrow.
Peterson: Erm...you can stipulate the match. You know what I mean.
Hastings: Yeah.
Donovan approaches the NiggaThrone. He hesitates a moment, and then sets his hand on the top and runs it along the top of the backing.
Hastings: ...yeah.
Donovan sits on the throne, and runs his hands along the side. He closes his eyes.
Hastings: Tell me...what am I going to do on Sentinel?
Peterson: You're going to-
Hastings: Tell me PROPER, Niglet.
Peterson sighs.
Peterson: You iz going ta beat dat foo' six ways from Sunday. Diamond Jack, he done lost already, sho 'nuff!
Hastings: Indeed. Just another inevitability.
Donovan tilts back his head and rests it, and Peterson nods his head, picks up his bag, and walks out of the room.
Peterson: Lord-Chief...
Donovan stares at him.
Peterson: I...I know that Sentinel didn't go as you expected.
Donovan stares at him. Peterson takes a step back.
Peterson: You should have won the GIW.com Championship, I know. It's yours by right.
Donovan stares at him.
Peterson: It was your destiny.
Donovan enters the room and walks past him.
Peterson: I should have-
Hastings: Forget it.
Peterson: I mean, you've told me-
Hastings: Owen.
Peterson freezes, and takes a step back as Donovan looks back at him.
Hastings: I said forget it.
Peterson looks down as Donovan turns away from him. Donovan closes his eyes.
Hastings: What have I done here?
Peterson hesitates.
Hastings: Tell me.
Peterson: You won your debut match on Pay-Per-View, at No Holds Barred.
Hastings: And it earned me a match against Chris Austin the next month, which I lost.
Peterson: You were in the first ever Battleground match.
Hastings: Which I lost.
Peterson: You...you led a crusade for justice when you were...persecuted against...by...uh...
Hastings: Spare yourself.
Peterson: You did spend a lot of time with that, I'm just saying.
Hastings: And we know how that worked out.
Donovan opens his eyes.
Hastings: You know where all that has brought me?
He looks back at Peterson, and Peterson hesitates again. Donovan quickly snatches up a chair and begins smashing it against the bench.
Hastings: AB. SO. LUTE. LEE. NOWHERE.
Donovan flings the chair against the wall, and the impact leaves behind and intent. Donovan has his head down, breathing heavily.
Hastings: Fucking nowhere. A long road to nowhere, that's all my career has been.
Donovan looks at Peterson.
Hastings: I've sweat, and I've bled. I've promised pain and chaos, and I've delivered. I've made good on many a threat. Yet when it matters, when the chips are down, when it is time to deliver onto myself my destiny, to play the endgame, I'm left with nothing. NOTHING.
He stares at the damaged wall.
Hastings: And the walls are coming down around me. So you tell me, what am I supposed to do now?
Donovan looks back at Peterson.
Peterson: You're really asking my opinion?
Hastings: How much further could I really possibly sink? How much deeper could this hole really possibly go? Yes, I'm asking your opinion.
Peterson takes a deep breath.
Peterson: Hoo...okay. Can't believe I'm going to say this, but...you finish what you've started. You continue to embrace what you've been doing. You insist that you're the true...the true Chief Nigga, and you beat Gabrielle and then nobody can take it from you.
Hastings: Gabrielle...
Peterson: You beat her, you can put all your demons to rest. All of them.
After a moment, Donovan nods his head.
Peterson: You beat Severino this week, you can have Gabrielle any way you want her.
Donovan glances at him with a raised eyebrow.
Peterson: Erm...you can stipulate the match. You know what I mean.
Hastings: Yeah.
Donovan approaches the NiggaThrone. He hesitates a moment, and then sets his hand on the top and runs it along the top of the backing.
Hastings: ...yeah.
Donovan sits on the throne, and runs his hands along the side. He closes his eyes.
Hastings: Tell me...what am I going to do on Sentinel?
Peterson: You're going to-
Hastings: Tell me PROPER, Niglet.
Peterson sighs.
Peterson: You iz going ta beat dat foo' six ways from Sunday. Diamond Jack, he done lost already, sho 'nuff!
Hastings: Indeed. Just another inevitability.
Donovan tilts back his head and rests it, and Peterson nods his head, picks up his bag, and walks out of the room.
