Eyes on the prize (and the road) {fftf rp1 [part 2]}
Sept 13, 2021 11:52:01 GMT -5
Jesse Jamester likes this
Post by Steve Awesome on Sept 13, 2021 11:52:01 GMT -5
The camera shuffled a bit as it came into focus. As it did you could see Steve Awesome across the armrest, sitting in the driver’s seat of his car. His phone was mounted with GPS on the screen. In the cup holder was that business card. “Bond. James Bondage.” Printed in big red letters on the front.
Steve Awesome knew exactly where he wanted to go.
And he knew exactly how to get there.
In the reflection of his sunglasses you could see the lines of the road fly by. He kept his hands at ten and two and remained silent. Stewing on all the things he had swirling around in his mind. After what seemed like a mile or two the Face of the Franchise finally speaks.
“It’s no secret to anyone that I Uh….I used to be a pretty big “man whore”.”
He laughs and shrugs.
“I guess I still am to some degree but I’ve definitely slowed down. I remember when I was younger, I’d bang any girl that came my way just because I could.”
He runs a palm through his hair and his luscious locks fall back into place perfectly.
“You know because I’m extremely handsome and really smooth with the ladies.”
He flashes a confident grin toward the camera while at a red light.
“I could go into a club and, well all the girls would line up. But the ones I liked, all I had to do was drop the same line and look them in the eye and they were more than ready to become a groupie.”
He takes a second to mentally pat himself on the back.
“In a way, that kind of reminds me of Donzig.”
He laughs and shakes his head.
“No. Not because he can get the tail. Have you seen this guy? Dude looks like a penis if pubic hair grew at the tip instead of the base.”
He shudders at the thought.
“No. In a much more pathetic version. Donzig is a Fed whore.”
He drives in silence for a few moments to let it sink in.
“You see, Donzig can’t help himself. Any company on the network will dangle a little carrot. Some type of battle royal, some type of tournament, some type of title opportunity and Don Zig is all about it. And just like the hungry idiot that he is, he will bounce around to each and every one, spouting his empty threats of violence and chaos.”
A shrug from the legend.
“I can’t hate. Dude is persistent if anything else. He has his big scary mask, his big tough guy threats and you know every now and then he comes through and makes a good showing of himself.”
He turns and looks into the camera. His self-assured green eyes peered over the rim of his sunglasses.
“But Fight for the Fallen won’t be one of those moments, Don. Not for you.”
He slid his shades back onto his nose and turned back to the road.
“You see, too me Donzig, Honor isn’t about just throwing the same lines at different targets and hoping it sticks. It’s not about petty fights with the bitch ass pirate hookers. It’s not about your pathetic threats of violence that ends up getting you beat by main eventers, anyways.”
He spins the wheel and makes a turn.
“It’s about that Openweight Title.”
“It’s about walking into Fight for the Fallen and proving that I'M the best in NPW even if I have to beat it into each and every one of my opponents. It’s about taking that championship and solidifying my spot.”
You can see his knuckles turn white as he squeezes the steering wheel.
“And I’m going to tell you this next thing Donzig, not as a threat, not as a warning, not as some lame attempt to leave people intimidated. But as a promise. A god damn DECLARATION!”
Steve pounds the wheel with his fist as he shouts the word.
“I. Am. Focused.
He points to himself.
“I am ready.”
He references the car he’s driving.
“I got one last tiny errand I have to run…”
He makes a turn.
“...but once it’s done, there is nothing stopping me.”
He shakes his head. Any semblance of doubt was long gone at this point. Steve peered out into the road, but it may as well have been his opponents. He was more than prepared to fly through them at 70 miles per hour.
“I heard Fireside has a Battle Royal coming up, maybe you can join that and fight for scraps. Hell, if you're that desperate just to hold a title, I think FWA has a title that’s twenty four seven. I could definitely see you running backstage chasing after the champ. But I’m telling you right now, NPW, is MY HOUSE! And that Openweight title is MINE. And you can try to threaten me with violence and blood and broken bones and all that wonderful stuff. But at the end of the day…”
Steve Awesome knew exactly where he wanted to go.
And he knew exactly how to get there.
“.....all I gotta do is win.”
He shrugs.
“And that’s exactly what Im going to do.”
He glances over at the camera and gives it a wink.
“Now thats a threat.”
He laughs to himself as the scene fades.
Day has turned to night as the black and green mustang pulls up to a shady dilapidated barn in the middle of nowhere. Steve checks the gps and it appears he’s in the right place. He steps out of the car to get a better look and suddenly a group of men come from the bushes holding rope, duct tape and zip ties.
“Heard you like gettin tied up!”
The lead guy said menacingly.
“I think so. Is this part of the service?”
“What do you think?”
“Honestly, It’s not very clear and-“
The strange men swarm him as the scene fades.
Steve Awesome knew exactly where he wanted to go.
And he knew exactly how to get there.
In the reflection of his sunglasses you could see the lines of the road fly by. He kept his hands at ten and two and remained silent. Stewing on all the things he had swirling around in his mind. After what seemed like a mile or two the Face of the Franchise finally speaks.
“It’s no secret to anyone that I Uh….I used to be a pretty big “man whore”.”
He laughs and shrugs.
“I guess I still am to some degree but I’ve definitely slowed down. I remember when I was younger, I’d bang any girl that came my way just because I could.”
He runs a palm through his hair and his luscious locks fall back into place perfectly.
“You know because I’m extremely handsome and really smooth with the ladies.”
He flashes a confident grin toward the camera while at a red light.
“I could go into a club and, well all the girls would line up. But the ones I liked, all I had to do was drop the same line and look them in the eye and they were more than ready to become a groupie.”
He takes a second to mentally pat himself on the back.
“In a way, that kind of reminds me of Donzig.”
He laughs and shakes his head.
“No. Not because he can get the tail. Have you seen this guy? Dude looks like a penis if pubic hair grew at the tip instead of the base.”
He shudders at the thought.
“No. In a much more pathetic version. Donzig is a Fed whore.”
He drives in silence for a few moments to let it sink in.
“You see, Donzig can’t help himself. Any company on the network will dangle a little carrot. Some type of battle royal, some type of tournament, some type of title opportunity and Don Zig is all about it. And just like the hungry idiot that he is, he will bounce around to each and every one, spouting his empty threats of violence and chaos.”
A shrug from the legend.
“I can’t hate. Dude is persistent if anything else. He has his big scary mask, his big tough guy threats and you know every now and then he comes through and makes a good showing of himself.”
He turns and looks into the camera. His self-assured green eyes peered over the rim of his sunglasses.
“But Fight for the Fallen won’t be one of those moments, Don. Not for you.”
He slid his shades back onto his nose and turned back to the road.
“You see, too me Donzig, Honor isn’t about just throwing the same lines at different targets and hoping it sticks. It’s not about petty fights with the bitch ass pirate hookers. It’s not about your pathetic threats of violence that ends up getting you beat by main eventers, anyways.”
He spins the wheel and makes a turn.
“It’s about that Openweight Title.”
“It’s about walking into Fight for the Fallen and proving that I'M the best in NPW even if I have to beat it into each and every one of my opponents. It’s about taking that championship and solidifying my spot.”
You can see his knuckles turn white as he squeezes the steering wheel.
“And I’m going to tell you this next thing Donzig, not as a threat, not as a warning, not as some lame attempt to leave people intimidated. But as a promise. A god damn DECLARATION!”
Steve pounds the wheel with his fist as he shouts the word.
“I. Am. Focused.
He points to himself.
“I am ready.”
He references the car he’s driving.
“I got one last tiny errand I have to run…”
He makes a turn.
“...but once it’s done, there is nothing stopping me.”
He shakes his head. Any semblance of doubt was long gone at this point. Steve peered out into the road, but it may as well have been his opponents. He was more than prepared to fly through them at 70 miles per hour.
“I heard Fireside has a Battle Royal coming up, maybe you can join that and fight for scraps. Hell, if you're that desperate just to hold a title, I think FWA has a title that’s twenty four seven. I could definitely see you running backstage chasing after the champ. But I’m telling you right now, NPW, is MY HOUSE! And that Openweight title is MINE. And you can try to threaten me with violence and blood and broken bones and all that wonderful stuff. But at the end of the day…”
Steve Awesome knew exactly where he wanted to go.
And he knew exactly how to get there.
“.....all I gotta do is win.”
He shrugs.
“And that’s exactly what Im going to do.”
He glances over at the camera and gives it a wink.
“Now thats a threat.”
He laughs to himself as the scene fades.
Day has turned to night as the black and green mustang pulls up to a shady dilapidated barn in the middle of nowhere. Steve checks the gps and it appears he’s in the right place. He steps out of the car to get a better look and suddenly a group of men come from the bushes holding rope, duct tape and zip ties.
“Heard you like gettin tied up!”
The lead guy said menacingly.
“I think so. Is this part of the service?”
“What do you think?”
“Honestly, It’s not very clear and-“
The strange men swarm him as the scene fades.
