Post by David Hunter on Sept 22, 2018 21:31:35 GMT -5
As a camera on a cell phone turns on—evident by the poor quality of it and the jerky movements it produces—and the first thing seen is a door to a backstage area of the Pure Class Arena.
When it opens, the newest signee, David Hunter walks out. Wearing a professional suit of black except for a red tie and a white button-up shirt, he walks down the steps.
As he approaches the cell phone, a recorder and a few other cell phones approach as well.
“Hey! David!” one of the onlookers call.
David stops, rolling his eyes at them.
“Vince Wyatt, Atlanta Sports Scripture. David, you’ve been absent from a lot of your usual hangouts down in the Atlanta and Savannah wrestling area. Considering you just left the Pure Class Arena, are the rumors true that you have signed with Pure Class Wrestling?” the same onlooker asks.
David scratches his nose but looks towards the onlooker.
“Damn Vince, you traveled all the way up for this? If you really must know, I have cancelled all future bookings in the Georgia area. I posted a call to the Pure Class front office and submitted my resume last week. We worked out a few details just a few moments ago while some of the boys were around, but no contact has been officially put together yet. I’m staying at a motel over at Myrtle Beach for now, but if all goes right, I will be signed by the end of the week.”
Another one of the onlookers pushes their cell phone closer.
“Trevor Story, Georgia Wrestling Newsletter. David, after your recent involvement with the criminal known as Argit, has there been any repercussions at all or is wrestling your main priority?” he asks.
David looks towards the onlooker who asked the question.
“Mr. Story, wrestling is always my main priority. It’s been all I’ve done for the last seven months. That’s one of the reasons I’m trying to get signed so soon to PCW. I can’t do much wrestling the same guys in bars and warehouses in Georgia. I’ve enjoyed my time there, but it’s time to move on to bigger and better things. In regards to my…what did you call it, involvement? With Argit? It’s public record if you’re so curious, but the Augusta Police Department has assured me that I am not under investigation. After fielding their questions and being as cooperative as I possibly could, they sent me on their way.”
“But I’m sure you’ve heard that Argit has escaped custody, right? Any ideas of his whereabouts?” the same onlooker asks.
David shakes his head, a noticeable frown forming on his face. He lifts his hands and rolls his right wrist.
“I was not aware of that. Considering I’ve been here all week, I have no knowledge of where Argit might have found himself,” David says. “Considering how much of a opossum that guy can be, I’m sure it’s some hole in the wall downtown. If the cops want to find him, they will. I do not speak for Argit and if you want anything else, I’d have to talk to my lawyer.”
A third onlooker brings his phone closer.
“Charles Schultz, Tampa Bay Wrestling. Do you—”
David interrupts him before he can speak any further.
“Whoa, wait, Tampa Bay Wrestling?” he asks.
The onlooker continues unabated.
“Yes sir. David, do you have any comments regarding the news of your father going missing?”
David audibly breathes in. He grabs the cell phone of the guy who asked the question.
“You want a comment?” he asks.
David tosses the cell phone into the arena wall. A crack and smash can be heard from where they are. David turns back towards Charles.
“There’s your (BLEEP)ing comment. Dad’s probably got himself into another situation with whatever kind of bull(BEEP) he could find. What my dad does is none of my concern, and you’d do best to remember that next time. All of you would,” David says, glancing about at the rest of them."
“David, I’m sorry,” Charles says.
“Yeah, you should be, Chuck. Get back to Tampa. Tell Mom and Sis I’m fine. If they want to see me, they can come to me, because as far as I’m concerned, Tampa’s a (BLEEP)ing Dead Zone. This interview is over,” David says.
He shoves the cell phone filming the scene down, thus ending the recording.
When it opens, the newest signee, David Hunter walks out. Wearing a professional suit of black except for a red tie and a white button-up shirt, he walks down the steps.
As he approaches the cell phone, a recorder and a few other cell phones approach as well.
“Hey! David!” one of the onlookers call.
David stops, rolling his eyes at them.
“Vince Wyatt, Atlanta Sports Scripture. David, you’ve been absent from a lot of your usual hangouts down in the Atlanta and Savannah wrestling area. Considering you just left the Pure Class Arena, are the rumors true that you have signed with Pure Class Wrestling?” the same onlooker asks.
David scratches his nose but looks towards the onlooker.
“Damn Vince, you traveled all the way up for this? If you really must know, I have cancelled all future bookings in the Georgia area. I posted a call to the Pure Class front office and submitted my resume last week. We worked out a few details just a few moments ago while some of the boys were around, but no contact has been officially put together yet. I’m staying at a motel over at Myrtle Beach for now, but if all goes right, I will be signed by the end of the week.”
Another one of the onlookers pushes their cell phone closer.
“Trevor Story, Georgia Wrestling Newsletter. David, after your recent involvement with the criminal known as Argit, has there been any repercussions at all or is wrestling your main priority?” he asks.
David looks towards the onlooker who asked the question.
“Mr. Story, wrestling is always my main priority. It’s been all I’ve done for the last seven months. That’s one of the reasons I’m trying to get signed so soon to PCW. I can’t do much wrestling the same guys in bars and warehouses in Georgia. I’ve enjoyed my time there, but it’s time to move on to bigger and better things. In regards to my…what did you call it, involvement? With Argit? It’s public record if you’re so curious, but the Augusta Police Department has assured me that I am not under investigation. After fielding their questions and being as cooperative as I possibly could, they sent me on their way.”
“But I’m sure you’ve heard that Argit has escaped custody, right? Any ideas of his whereabouts?” the same onlooker asks.
David shakes his head, a noticeable frown forming on his face. He lifts his hands and rolls his right wrist.
“I was not aware of that. Considering I’ve been here all week, I have no knowledge of where Argit might have found himself,” David says. “Considering how much of a opossum that guy can be, I’m sure it’s some hole in the wall downtown. If the cops want to find him, they will. I do not speak for Argit and if you want anything else, I’d have to talk to my lawyer.”
A third onlooker brings his phone closer.
“Charles Schultz, Tampa Bay Wrestling. Do you—”
David interrupts him before he can speak any further.
“Whoa, wait, Tampa Bay Wrestling?” he asks.
The onlooker continues unabated.
“Yes sir. David, do you have any comments regarding the news of your father going missing?”
David audibly breathes in. He grabs the cell phone of the guy who asked the question.
“You want a comment?” he asks.
David tosses the cell phone into the arena wall. A crack and smash can be heard from where they are. David turns back towards Charles.
“There’s your (BLEEP)ing comment. Dad’s probably got himself into another situation with whatever kind of bull(BEEP) he could find. What my dad does is none of my concern, and you’d do best to remember that next time. All of you would,” David says, glancing about at the rest of them."
“David, I’m sorry,” Charles says.
“Yeah, you should be, Chuck. Get back to Tampa. Tell Mom and Sis I’m fine. If they want to see me, they can come to me, because as far as I’m concerned, Tampa’s a (BLEEP)ing Dead Zone. This interview is over,” David says.
He shoves the cell phone filming the scene down, thus ending the recording.
