Old School Romance (A Storm [EoD3] RP #2)

[ForeverKuroi]

Fade in. We're in Storm's kitchen. It's really nice. The walls are white and there is a silver back-splash. The appliances are all stain-less Steele (hah. Get it!?) In the center of the large kitchen is an island and we see Michael Clarke Duncan leaning against it, writing on paper with crayons. He has three different colors: red, blue and green. Seconds later, steps are heard from the nearby basement stairs. It doesn't take long before Michael Storm is in view. He looks visibly less stressed, that is until he turned the corner and found his buddy.

: "Please tell me my vision is off. Are you meaning to tell me that you're doing auto-insurance paperwork with crayons?"

: "No."

: "Well is that some sort of pen that's in disguise of a crayon or something? Because using crayon for pens is absolutely ridiculous. To be honest, we could do this over the internet, but I don't trust you with my computer."

: "No, what I'm saying is that I'm not doing the paperwork. I decided to take a break."

: "Take a break? You came up here five minutes ago. What could you have possibly needed to take a break from?"

: "So I thought about what you said, and you were right. I came on too strong to eXXXstacy. I wrote her a letter to set things right."

: "Please tell me the letter is an apology letter."

: "Shit. Something like that. I'm about to drop it in the mail."

Michael Clarke Duncan tried to walk out of the room toward the house entrance, but Storm steps in his way.

: "Do you think I trust you? I know it looks like I'm being an asshole, but if you don't want to go to jail, you got to do things my way. I just saw Jackson Steele's last promo, and let me tell you something. He is not happy. I mean, forget jail. If you keep up what you're doing, jail is to protect you against the ass kicking that Jackson is going to give you. More than that, he's going to go after me for what you're doing."

: "Why? You ain't my parent."

: "Believe me, Mike. I know. Although I feel like that sometimes. Anyway, just read me your apology letter."

: "Alright. AHEM!"

Michael Clarke Duncan is about to read, but Storm stops him.

: "If you're going to clear your throat, just do it. Saying 'ahem' doesn't automatically make that happen."

MCD clears his throat. He then begins with his apology letter.

: "Shit girl, I think I came across too strong.
But what do you expect when I see you in that thong?
You might be mad, but let's give this shit another try.
Maybe you's like it when I put my tongue along your thigh.

I know you say no, but maybe it's a maybe.
I's can call you boo boo, but you's can call me baby.
I wanna see you soon 'cuz you make me feel alive.
Hey, can you still hold yo' breath fo' a minute like you did in Sausage Bondage 5?

Baby? What yo zodiac sign? Shit, I'm a cancer."

Storm puts his hand up before Duncan can go any further.

: "Let me tell you something, Duncan. That is not an apology letter. If you send that letter, you will have actually began stalking this girl. Look, I know you're a good guy who's coming across like a complete idiot because you have no idea how to process your emotions or act half-way decent among civilized people, but think about if you're this girl. Her having a history in sex work doesn't mean she's not capable of fear. She thinks you're scary. She thinks you were going to {No Means No} her and that's neither fun, nor enjoyable. If you wanted to send an apology letter, you can say, 'I'm sorry about what I did. It was wrong, and I should not have done that.' and then you leave her alone. That would possibly be acceptable."

: "Okay. Then I'll do that."

: "No you won't. Here."

Storm slaps down onto the table his vehicle information including the Make, Model, Year, VIN Number, etc.

: "This is my vehicle information. Put it all in this form. See where it says Year? Put down 2017. Over here where it says color? Put down yellow. Just transcribe all of this information. Let me know if you have any questions."

: "'kay."

Storm puts something else on the table.

: "And for all that is holy, please use a damn pen. Throw those crayons away. I don't even know how you got them."

Storm walks off until he is in the living room. He sits on the couch, where a camera is set up.

: "Steele, I've heard you loud and clear. I'm sure you wanted a response from me, so here I am. I know you're angry. I know you feel wronged because of what my manager, Michael Clarke Duncan, did. If you think I'm here to justify his actions, you're wrong. I will, however, apologize for him. He's not a rapist. He's not trying to do anything non-consensual to eXXXstacy. He's an idiot. He thought she was attracted to him. He thought that they could date. He doesn't know the rules, how basic human decency works, and that's a real problem I'm trying to get in through his thick skull."

Storm shakes his head, solemnly ashamed of what his friend has done.

: "But let's point out your faults too. To treat me as if I did something wrong for not raising him right, as if I way his parent in some way - that's where you're mistaken, my friend. You see, things aren't personal between us. Between Mike and you, they may be, but not between us. I've never done a damn thing to you before. I've never even met you face to face before. I was actually happy at the first End of Days show, when I saw you beat Curtis Kanyon. I was finally excited to meet someone with such an enigma, someone with such an in-ring presence, that I thought that we could have a perfectly good match. No more of this good versus evil drama. No more trying to pull the demon out of me. No more cheap tricks or anger-filled attacks. I thought it would be two guys putting the best that they have on the line to see who could go up to the semi-finals. Whether it's against Scorpion or against Jay Cutter. That was what I wanted."

Storm slowly exhales.

: "But you wouldn't allow that, would you? For you, you've threatened me. You've threatened me bodily injury. You've threatened injury to numerous bones, and that's all before eXXXstacy told you about the misconduct that my friend did. You don't see anything wrong with that? I mean look at you. You're the AWF Champion. You're representing the AWF itself, and you're conducting yourself like that? I honestly expected a little bit better from you."

Storm gets up. He turns around back to the kitchen, but before he walks away, he turns around.

: "Michael Clarke Duncan and I are not the same person, and I'm not his master or dad or whatever. He's not my dog. Whatever he does is on him, and he deserves whatever stupidity he's going to get, but you leave me out of it. There's one thing that you have with me, and it's in a match very soon at the third night of the End of Days Tournament. It'll be you against me. I'm going to bring my A-Game. I highly suggest you bring yours."

Storm walks away from the camera. He goes back to the kitchen, where Michael Clarke Duncan is working on the paperwork.

: "I think I's finished, Storm."

: "We'll see about that."

Storm pulls the paper from Duncan's hand and goes through it. His eyes zoom left to right, going down the page. A smile slowly crawls across his page.

: "You know, you actually did a good job with this paper. The only thing you forgot is that 'Storm' isn't legally my last name, so you can't put that down."

Storm puts a line through the last name section and puts down his actual last name. (Which you can't see. You're not supposed to know what it is.) The line through his name is singular so people can still see the name.

: "Perfect. Alright, well I'll grab some stamps and we'll put this in the mailbox. Good work, Duncan. Oh, and also... just to remind you, keep away from eXXXstacy. If she wants to be friends with you or whatever, she'll let you know."

Michael Clarke Duncan slowly exhales.

: "Shit. Yeah, you's right I suppose."

: "And lastly, I need to put my signature. I know how the insurance field works. If you don't cross your ts and dot your is, they'll make your life hell."

Michael Storm signs the paper. He then holds it high while grabbing the envelope with his other hand, the rough draft of Michael Clarke Duncan's love poem is seen on the back-side of the insurance paperwork. The last lines of the poem, that Storm refused to hear, are on the bottom:

Baby? What yo zodiac sign? Shit, I'm a cancer.

Bitch, you best know I won't take no for an answer.

Of course, Storm didn't read this. He grabbed an envelope and inserted the paper in. He puts a stamp on it and goes outside to his mailbox, where he drops the letter. One thing Michael Storm forgot to do was double check the envelope. Instead of it being addressed to the auto-insurance company, it was populated with an address. Up top, it says - 'To eXXXstacy.'

Fade out.