Jason
03-19-2008, 04:23 PM
“How are you going to look serious at all now?”
[Those words came from Mickey, the sidepiece. He was firm. An ex cop he was kept around because he was useful. He knew a lot about statues, he knew a lot about what could and couldn’t be done legally. He also had links in customs which meant that international travel for him and his friends was usually a painless procedure. No ass sniffing dogs, no searches, hell sometimes those traveling with him didn’t even have to remove their shoes.]
“How are you going to attempt to win the Colosseum Title, when Penn won’t even take you seriously?”
[Mickey is speaking to the wall, well he might as well be. Catalyst, the former AWA Arena Champion, current Number One Contender to the AWA Title and current GEC stand out is tying his tennis shoes. He is getting ready for a brutal attempt at a workout. He’s been slacking in that department recently, relying on his God given abilities instead of trying to bolster them in any way, shape or form.]
“Would you answer me already, this entire thing is making me nervous. Hell I didn’t even want to do that dumb Sailor Moon stuff, I knew it was a bad idea.”
[Mickey has a tendency to panic when things don’t break exactly his way. He’s the guy you can read like a book at a poker table. Part of the reason he got into so much trouble back in Las Vegas. Mickey sat down on the side of the bed and started rubbing between his nose and his eyes, trying to get more blood flow going to relax him.]
“Listen to me Mick…”
[These words belonged to Catalyst; he peered up at his old friend through the hood of his sweatshirt.]
“…I can’t force him to take me seriously. I can’t force him to think that I am serious. If he wants to look at my work against a joke of an opponent and judge me on that let him. In then end though he’ll be responsible for what happens in the ring. That’s that.”
[He finishes lacing and tying his shoes and grabs a small bottle of water from the mini fridge in the room. He tosses it in his hand softly as his friend continues to rub the shit out of his eyeballs. Catalyst reaches over and places a hand on his shoulder.]
“I’m going to go work out. We can talk this through when I get back…”
[Mickey turns and looks at his friend shaking his head.]
“That sounds fine Fran, now get the hell out of here before I decided to try to strangle you. This week has just been intense for me. I don’t want you to blow this shot…especially after you’ve been bitching about it for so long.”
[Catalyst heads towards the door, answering his friend’s retort as he goes.]
“Yeah son, it’s been like two months!”
+ + + +
[In the hallway.]
I don’t know how I can do this. I don’t know what the hell is going on. I’ve got two HUGE matches, probably three back to back to back. I’ve got Zortalk for the Number One Contendership, then Penn for the Colosseum Title and then provided I destroy Zortalk, probably Serbo for the AWA Title. Jesus…
[The elevator waiting game is defined as hitting the button and waiting. This is the game that the anti-hero currently plays. A little toe tap, a little jumping in place, anything to keep his blood going. He’ll be in top shape for all three of these matches if he has to be.]
I just don’t remember ever being this nervous. Even at Crown of War…I guess that’s because deep down I didn’t believe I could beat all those guys for the right to be called Warlord. I guess it’s because this time around I have a realistic goal staring me in the face. I guess this time it’s because I have the owner of the WWA staring down on me as I try to win a title in his federation. This could just get ugly…again.
[The elevator finally comes. It’s empty. Catalyst presses the appropriate floor and begins his trip down to the gym of the hotel he is currently staying at. He is in the United States so these conveniences are a little easier to come by.]
I just don’t know about Penn. I really don’t. I’m nervous about his style, how I’ll try to combat it. How I’ll try to defend myself…what about the numbers game? I mean he has the whole FIGHT team behind him…and I’ve got no one. Both Ashtons left me high and dry, and I’ve yet to make a damn friend or ally around here. I guess I have a lot to overcome.
[The doors open and out runs Catalyst. He is jogging at a slow speed, but a speed that will allow him to be lose when he gets to the gym so he can jump on the treadmill right away.]
I’ve got a lot to think about I guess…
+ + +
[The doors to the hotel room open and there is Mickey. Exactly where Catalyst left him.]
“That wasn’t that long of a work out. I half expected someone from downstairs call and tell me to come help you.”
[Mickey flips off the TV and looks at his old friend in the eyes. As Catalyst sits down on a large chair and begins sipping heavily from his bottle of water. Swear can be seen on his clothes an indication of the intensity of his workout today.]
“Yeah…it wasn’t that bad…I just did some running on the treadmill and some free weights. Nothing all that bad.”
[Catalyst chases his sentence with a gulp of water.]
“Are you ready for this Fran? I mean this isn’t going to be a walk in the park…this is Curtis Penn we are talking about. He is a fighter, not really a wrestler.”
“I know all about his background. I’ve been watching from UFC and MMA styled fights to get his fighting technique down.”
“I’m not going to lie to you dude, if you blow this opportunity I don’t know when another one will come knocking on your door.”
“I know. I’ve got to cash this one in…BIG TIME.”
[Catalyst moves up from his perch and begins to ready himself for a shower. He removes his hooded sweatshirt and t-shirt and places them in a small gym bag that no doubt is considers a “laundry bag”.]
“If you don’t cash in things might get dicey. It seems that Mandrake hasn’t been impressed with you much.”
“I could care less about Victor at this point. If he doesn’t appreciate the sacrifices I’ve made for him then he can shove it. I dance to a different drum, that’s no reason to look down on me, or sleep on me for that matter.”
“I know that and you know that, but this fight with Penn…it’s going to be the fight of your life. And I mean F.I.G.H.T.”
“Don’t worry Mick, I’ll put up a good one.”
[Wrap it up. Fade to black. Whatever ending you want to stick on it, goes here.]
[Those words came from Mickey, the sidepiece. He was firm. An ex cop he was kept around because he was useful. He knew a lot about statues, he knew a lot about what could and couldn’t be done legally. He also had links in customs which meant that international travel for him and his friends was usually a painless procedure. No ass sniffing dogs, no searches, hell sometimes those traveling with him didn’t even have to remove their shoes.]
“How are you going to attempt to win the Colosseum Title, when Penn won’t even take you seriously?”
[Mickey is speaking to the wall, well he might as well be. Catalyst, the former AWA Arena Champion, current Number One Contender to the AWA Title and current GEC stand out is tying his tennis shoes. He is getting ready for a brutal attempt at a workout. He’s been slacking in that department recently, relying on his God given abilities instead of trying to bolster them in any way, shape or form.]
“Would you answer me already, this entire thing is making me nervous. Hell I didn’t even want to do that dumb Sailor Moon stuff, I knew it was a bad idea.”
[Mickey has a tendency to panic when things don’t break exactly his way. He’s the guy you can read like a book at a poker table. Part of the reason he got into so much trouble back in Las Vegas. Mickey sat down on the side of the bed and started rubbing between his nose and his eyes, trying to get more blood flow going to relax him.]
“Listen to me Mick…”
[These words belonged to Catalyst; he peered up at his old friend through the hood of his sweatshirt.]
“…I can’t force him to take me seriously. I can’t force him to think that I am serious. If he wants to look at my work against a joke of an opponent and judge me on that let him. In then end though he’ll be responsible for what happens in the ring. That’s that.”
[He finishes lacing and tying his shoes and grabs a small bottle of water from the mini fridge in the room. He tosses it in his hand softly as his friend continues to rub the shit out of his eyeballs. Catalyst reaches over and places a hand on his shoulder.]
“I’m going to go work out. We can talk this through when I get back…”
[Mickey turns and looks at his friend shaking his head.]
“That sounds fine Fran, now get the hell out of here before I decided to try to strangle you. This week has just been intense for me. I don’t want you to blow this shot…especially after you’ve been bitching about it for so long.”
[Catalyst heads towards the door, answering his friend’s retort as he goes.]
“Yeah son, it’s been like two months!”
+ + + +
[In the hallway.]
I don’t know how I can do this. I don’t know what the hell is going on. I’ve got two HUGE matches, probably three back to back to back. I’ve got Zortalk for the Number One Contendership, then Penn for the Colosseum Title and then provided I destroy Zortalk, probably Serbo for the AWA Title. Jesus…
[The elevator waiting game is defined as hitting the button and waiting. This is the game that the anti-hero currently plays. A little toe tap, a little jumping in place, anything to keep his blood going. He’ll be in top shape for all three of these matches if he has to be.]
I just don’t remember ever being this nervous. Even at Crown of War…I guess that’s because deep down I didn’t believe I could beat all those guys for the right to be called Warlord. I guess it’s because this time around I have a realistic goal staring me in the face. I guess this time it’s because I have the owner of the WWA staring down on me as I try to win a title in his federation. This could just get ugly…again.
[The elevator finally comes. It’s empty. Catalyst presses the appropriate floor and begins his trip down to the gym of the hotel he is currently staying at. He is in the United States so these conveniences are a little easier to come by.]
I just don’t know about Penn. I really don’t. I’m nervous about his style, how I’ll try to combat it. How I’ll try to defend myself…what about the numbers game? I mean he has the whole FIGHT team behind him…and I’ve got no one. Both Ashtons left me high and dry, and I’ve yet to make a damn friend or ally around here. I guess I have a lot to overcome.
[The doors open and out runs Catalyst. He is jogging at a slow speed, but a speed that will allow him to be lose when he gets to the gym so he can jump on the treadmill right away.]
I’ve got a lot to think about I guess…
+ + +
[The doors to the hotel room open and there is Mickey. Exactly where Catalyst left him.]
“That wasn’t that long of a work out. I half expected someone from downstairs call and tell me to come help you.”
[Mickey flips off the TV and looks at his old friend in the eyes. As Catalyst sits down on a large chair and begins sipping heavily from his bottle of water. Swear can be seen on his clothes an indication of the intensity of his workout today.]
“Yeah…it wasn’t that bad…I just did some running on the treadmill and some free weights. Nothing all that bad.”
[Catalyst chases his sentence with a gulp of water.]
“Are you ready for this Fran? I mean this isn’t going to be a walk in the park…this is Curtis Penn we are talking about. He is a fighter, not really a wrestler.”
“I know all about his background. I’ve been watching from UFC and MMA styled fights to get his fighting technique down.”
“I’m not going to lie to you dude, if you blow this opportunity I don’t know when another one will come knocking on your door.”
“I know. I’ve got to cash this one in…BIG TIME.”
[Catalyst moves up from his perch and begins to ready himself for a shower. He removes his hooded sweatshirt and t-shirt and places them in a small gym bag that no doubt is considers a “laundry bag”.]
“If you don’t cash in things might get dicey. It seems that Mandrake hasn’t been impressed with you much.”
“I could care less about Victor at this point. If he doesn’t appreciate the sacrifices I’ve made for him then he can shove it. I dance to a different drum, that’s no reason to look down on me, or sleep on me for that matter.”
“I know that and you know that, but this fight with Penn…it’s going to be the fight of your life. And I mean F.I.G.H.T.”
“Don’t worry Mick, I’ll put up a good one.”
[Wrap it up. Fade to black. Whatever ending you want to stick on it, goes here.]