Go back to Hollywood
May 25, 2018 16:27:40 GMT -5
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The Anarchist and Gerard Angelo like this
Post by Holden Ross on May 25, 2018 16:27:40 GMT -5
*Sitting in a derelict church is Tyson Holt, a.k.a. Braddock in P.C.W. The once proud pulpit is toppled from the raised preaching area it once stood and pretty much every window is broken out. It's a cliché, being in a decrepit church, surrounded by broken glass, rotted pews, and gloomy lighting, but what the Hell right?*
You ask why I chose you, chose to make you my target, the object of my aggression? You ask this with a straight face. Completely unaware as to why I want to break you. To grind you under the heel of my boot.
*He lifts a bottle up to his lips with his left hand and guzzles the clear liquid within. A small dribble of the liquid trickles down his chin from his lip. When he wipes it away with the back of his hand, he smears the white and green paint around his mouth.*
You come here intent on taking my place on the roster. A "Hero" for the hipsters and stuck up, preppie douche nozzles. Granted, looking at us side-by-side, you are the more acceptable looking. I tend to stand out. But you are just a cut out, good looking image of what a professional wrestler should look like.
Me, I look like someone who escaped the Jim Rose Circus. You think you are better than me and most of the rest of the roster due to being handed everything your whole life. Never having to struggle. Heh...
*He takes another swig and launches the bottle off screen.*
I have tried to claw my way out of the mire my whole life. I have had to fight and struggle my whole life. Now it's no different. Now I am having to fight a spoiled has been to assure my place on the roster. Gerard, this will be our first match together and I am eagerly awaiting your blood to splash a gorgeous red on the canvas. Moby may have killed Ahab....but I ain't some decrepit old fisherman.
Soon our paths will collide much like one of those planes hit the North Tower. You will fall fast and hard much, like that Tower. I will walk out of that ring, victorious, while you are left bloody and broken in front of the sold out crowd. I will show the World I am the superior one. Go back to Hollywood, fuckboy.
*The scene fades out as Braddock whistles "Carol of the Bells," oddly enough. Once the cameras are off, Braddock leaves the building and climbs into the back seat of a waiting car. A friend is waiting with a loaded needle.*
Friend: You sure...
Fuck it....
*Braddock slips the needle into his vein and depresses the plunger, flooding his veins with the crushed up oxy's. A smile curls his lips as he slips into unconsciousness.*
You ask why I chose you, chose to make you my target, the object of my aggression? You ask this with a straight face. Completely unaware as to why I want to break you. To grind you under the heel of my boot.
*He lifts a bottle up to his lips with his left hand and guzzles the clear liquid within. A small dribble of the liquid trickles down his chin from his lip. When he wipes it away with the back of his hand, he smears the white and green paint around his mouth.*
You come here intent on taking my place on the roster. A "Hero" for the hipsters and stuck up, preppie douche nozzles. Granted, looking at us side-by-side, you are the more acceptable looking. I tend to stand out. But you are just a cut out, good looking image of what a professional wrestler should look like.
Me, I look like someone who escaped the Jim Rose Circus. You think you are better than me and most of the rest of the roster due to being handed everything your whole life. Never having to struggle. Heh...
*He takes another swig and launches the bottle off screen.*
I have tried to claw my way out of the mire my whole life. I have had to fight and struggle my whole life. Now it's no different. Now I am having to fight a spoiled has been to assure my place on the roster. Gerard, this will be our first match together and I am eagerly awaiting your blood to splash a gorgeous red on the canvas. Moby may have killed Ahab....but I ain't some decrepit old fisherman.
Soon our paths will collide much like one of those planes hit the North Tower. You will fall fast and hard much, like that Tower. I will walk out of that ring, victorious, while you are left bloody and broken in front of the sold out crowd. I will show the World I am the superior one. Go back to Hollywood, fuckboy.
*The scene fades out as Braddock whistles "Carol of the Bells," oddly enough. Once the cameras are off, Braddock leaves the building and climbs into the back seat of a waiting car. A friend is waiting with a loaded needle.*
Friend: You sure...
Fuck it....
*Braddock slips the needle into his vein and depresses the plunger, flooding his veins with the crushed up oxy's. A smile curls his lips as he slips into unconsciousness.*