Post by Tommy Kelly on Jan 26, 2018 22:18:28 GMT -5
It’s taken a lot to get here man, a HELL of a lot...don’t blow this. Don’t choke. Don’t make a fool of yourself. Everyone is expecting you to go out and act like a clown, act a fool or do something stupid...but not tonight. Afterwards, we party, but right now...its business.
We open up to a dark locker room, in fact pitch dark apart from one source of light, the glowing bulbs of a vanity mirror. The room is large, spacious, enough for a whole team but there only appears to be one person in here...The StormCrow. Leaning on the counter, he leans towards the mirror, staring at his own reflecting, speaking to himself.
...tonight, you have the chance to show the world just what StormCrow can do, and that’s the plan. Go in, kick ass and go home. Nothing crazy, no theatrics, just straight up wrestling. They are going to think your drunk as always, think you are stumbling and off guard...but that's the advantage we’ll have. Strike them when we least expect it…
He closes his eyes, turns his head, lost in thought.
Fuck it, just kick ass! Tonight, you can’t lose! Dude, we fuckin’ survived war zones. We survived prison. Hell we survived being homeless for years! And now we’re back, we’re well paid and loved by the fans...don’t blow this. We’re down two losses in a row now, down a belt to some crazy kid and about to go toe to toe with the Champion of AWF...a dude almost half your age. That’s all you man! They know you can do this...so let’s fucking do this.
The door to the locker room opens, and we hear a familiar voice, Synn.
Crow? Crow! You in here? Where’s the switch…
The light flicks on, but Crow doesn’t even move, doesn’t even turn.
Ah you’re here....Supremacy baby! It's finally here! You ready man? Let’s get ourselves out to...hey, is everything OK?
Crow looks to Synn, a sideways glance only before turning back to the mirror.
I forgot...your ritual...I thought you gave that up a long time-
Synn!
...alright man, do your thing…
Synn takes a seat on one of the benches, and starts fiddling with his boot. Crow returns to the mirror…
...tonight, Bobby Barratt goes down. Then, you and Synn kick asses all round, and they all go down. Two matches, in and out. No sweat...you got this.
He lowers his voice to a whisper, unheard by the camera as he continues to mumble something to himself. At the end, he pulls something from his shirt, tied around his neck- a dogtag -and gives it a kiss. He turns back to his partner.
Sorry Synn, I just needed to...y’know…
I gotcha man, no biggie...so, you ready for this shit?
Ready and waiting.
Good, I was getting worried you might bolt, or not show up at all.
Me, bail? Never.
Crow chuckles, and Synn cracks a smile.
The time is almost hear, they are gonna call your name shortly...wanna get ready?
Crow nods, and returns to the mirror and takes a seat. He pulls out a drawer from the desk, that is full of various colors of facepaints. He looks around, trying to decide on which to use.
Just stick with the usual, man. No need to confuse the punters.
Crow nods, and starts to rub some white paint onto his face. As we close in further, we can see he is looking different...clean. Fresh. His beard is trimmed neatly, his long hair is cut and washed. His skin even looks better. He looks like a new man, except for one issue…
Still getting the shakes? Don’t worry about that man, it happens everyone. It’ll go away with time.
Yeah, I guess.
As he applies facepaint, his hand trembles, shaking across his skin.
Look...kicking the habit cold turkey is tough, and no man should have to do it alone. That’s why I’m here. So just think of the night ahead of us, focus on the matches you have and it should be all good. Just...keep you mind busy I guess.
Yeah...busy…
...what do you think your chances are? Like, how do you think it’s gonna go?
Tonight? Smooth man, we’re gonna kick some ass!
Crow smiles and Synn reciprocates.
...Bobby is tough cookie, I’ve been watching some of his clips. Good in the ring, great on the mic, and sneaky enough to catch you off-guard. I can’t turn my back on him, and I can’t let him get a momentum going. This match won’t have gold on the line but, y’know...it’s big for me.
I get you, pride and all that...just make sure to give him a few slaps for me. Win or lose, this is big stuff man. Representing the entire AXW against the chunkiest fed on the Network is something amazing, and they see you as such a threat they are throwing their best guy at you. Take it how you will, but that’s a compliment right there. And a little fear too if you ask me.
Yeah man...yeah! I guess it is!
The two men continue applying their face paints, Synn opting for the classic goth/ vampirism look while Crow is just splashing it on here and there.
...I have to say, I’m pretty excited to get out there myself tonight. Like, it’s been a long time coming for me, y’know the chance to get back into a team. But to do it with my brother in arms...and the chance to become champs all over again?...it just feels awesome man, win OR lose we get to say we are XHF championship level now. And that feels...fuck…it's good man.
Yeah man, feels real good dude…
Crow continues to shake in his seat, tremors getting worse.
Man, if things are bad, and you feel like hell, we could always...you know...try this after Supremacy?
No man, I’m kicking the booze and not going back...it’s brought me nothing but pain and suffering. I’m done.
Yeah, I get that and I’ll support the shit out of that decision, but I also don't want you going into shock or something in the ring! Cold turkey is rough just sitting at home on the sofa, but going into back to back matches?? Crow...you can have a drink.
No man...no. It’s done, I’ve made up my mind...sitting here like a chump, losing to freaks and has-beens...fucking Anomaly got the better of me. A kid! A blow-in! And then Price, Arnold and all these other goons...I have a problem man, and it's only getting worse. It’s about time I take action...I NEED to take action…
Synn nods, consoling his best friend.
Well after tonight, let’s see what we do about finding you a clinic or something, alright?
The two men continue to apply their face paints and chit chat, until there is a knock on the door- a stage hand, letting them know it’s about time. They get up, do their last minute double checks and leave the locker room, but not before Synn runs back in for something. Crow waits in the hall, confused until Synn reemerges, a large bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand.
Can’t forget this now, can we!
Synn man, what did we just talk abo-
Crow...stop. This isn’t to drink, it’s to fool Bobby, and the Darkness, and Team Tron, and the rest of the plebs trying to stop us taking gold from the GUNS tonight.
Synn hands Crow the bottle, but he doesn’t accept it.
Dude...they think you are a mess. A drunk, an idiot, and bumbling fool...hell, I think that! But tonight you are going into that ring, clean sharp and ready to blow them all away. But THEY don’t know that, they will be expecting you to be asleep in our corner or something. So...play the part. You get me?
Crow understands, and reluctantly takes the bottle in his hand, a heavy weight of alcohol, but weightless compared to the weight the poison has laid on his life. The two men follow the stage hand to where the stage area is set up, and he tells them to stay put.
I guess this is it...whew, I think I’m gonna be sick…
Dude, you got this. Cut the shit!
I’d rather a week of hangovers than this...this feeling...what is it? It’s like all my sense are fired up, my sight and the sounds, even my smell is on overload.
Uh, that's called sobriety my man...jeez, how longs it been! We need to book you into DDP Yoga, stat! Haha...look man, it’ll all be second nature once you are out there. Just go rip it up. This match with Bobby will be a piece of cake, the kids all flair and mouth, but zero sustenance. Stand your ground, and bust him up.
StormCrow nods, slightly feeling better.
The next match I’ll be by your side, and in your corner. We got a good long break between this and the tag tournament, so it’ll all be gravy. MushiMushi and Team Tranny will go down easy, The Darkness are not even on my radar, so all we need to do is put them out early and take out the GUNS...we got this man!
From further down the hall, on the other side of the gorilla position we get a loud myriad of both boos and cheers mixed, and the crowd parts for us to see what's going on...Bobby Barratt, dressed and ready for this match. The stage hand puts him into position, as he arrogantly looks over at Crow and winks. He rubs his gold AWF belt around his waist, and mouths something that StormCrow but its inaudible.
That smug piece of...man I can’t wait to wipe the smile off his mug.
Crow stretches out his arms in the air, before power-pointing down to the XHF European Championship around his own waist. We DO hear what Crow is shouting…
SUCK IT BOBBY BLUE-BALLS! You fucking stink, man!
Alright alright, calm yourself...here, take this, get pumped up...you’re gonna whup ass man. StormCrow, back in the ring, sober and wild...lets do this man!
The two best friends hug it out, and Synn hands StormCrow the Jack Daniels bottle before the stage hand pulls him away and right to the curtain area. We hear the announcement coming form outside, with boos as Bobby’s name is mentioned, and cheers as Crow’s is mentioned.
Alright Crow...this is it...you versus Bobby in front of the world...you got this man, you got this...we’ll worry ‘bout the tag titles later. The GUNS won’t be a match for you, for Synn. You’ll do it, you’ll pull it off. Don’t even think of it, that’s later…
As he waits, nervously, he eyes the bottle of Jack in his hands…
...fuck it…
He spins the cap off, and take a large swig of the hooch, the hot nectar stinging his mouth and throat. He coughs, the taste of alcohol catching him off guard.
Fuck...tastes like shit...a few days off the booze and you turn against me? Come on!
He takes another swig, stomaching this one even better. The arena goes quiet for a moment, before the blasting guitars sounds of Rage Against The Machine starts to rip it up. The stage hand tells him to go, but Crow stands there, his eyes closed.
...this is it. Your time. Those days on the streets are behind you. Those nights asleep under the stars, those long hungry days...your back baby. Listen to those cheers, the people are singing your name. You are their Champion! You are their main eventer! You are the fucking Storm Crow!
The music plays, the crowd go crazy in anticipation, but Crow still hasn’t moved. The stage hand walks over and shouts at him to move. Crow nods, and takes one big long gulp of Jack Daniels, whilst making direct eye contact with Bobby Barratt.
It’s fucking time, baby! Woo-rah!
He spits Jack Daniels into the air over him, a cloud of hooch landing on his hair and face, streaming his facepaint slightly, before marching forward through the curtain. We see StormCrow disappear finally to the stage area, but we are met with a torrent of cheers and applause, delighted fans ecstatic to see their favourite superstar make his appearance, and go fight the biggest match of his adult life...tonight, the Crow flies again!
We open up to a dark locker room, in fact pitch dark apart from one source of light, the glowing bulbs of a vanity mirror. The room is large, spacious, enough for a whole team but there only appears to be one person in here...The StormCrow. Leaning on the counter, he leans towards the mirror, staring at his own reflecting, speaking to himself.
...tonight, you have the chance to show the world just what StormCrow can do, and that’s the plan. Go in, kick ass and go home. Nothing crazy, no theatrics, just straight up wrestling. They are going to think your drunk as always, think you are stumbling and off guard...but that's the advantage we’ll have. Strike them when we least expect it…
He closes his eyes, turns his head, lost in thought.
Fuck it, just kick ass! Tonight, you can’t lose! Dude, we fuckin’ survived war zones. We survived prison. Hell we survived being homeless for years! And now we’re back, we’re well paid and loved by the fans...don’t blow this. We’re down two losses in a row now, down a belt to some crazy kid and about to go toe to toe with the Champion of AWF...a dude almost half your age. That’s all you man! They know you can do this...so let’s fucking do this.
The door to the locker room opens, and we hear a familiar voice, Synn.
Crow? Crow! You in here? Where’s the switch…
The light flicks on, but Crow doesn’t even move, doesn’t even turn.
Ah you’re here....Supremacy baby! It's finally here! You ready man? Let’s get ourselves out to...hey, is everything OK?
Crow looks to Synn, a sideways glance only before turning back to the mirror.
I forgot...your ritual...I thought you gave that up a long time-
Synn!
...alright man, do your thing…
Synn takes a seat on one of the benches, and starts fiddling with his boot. Crow returns to the mirror…
...tonight, Bobby Barratt goes down. Then, you and Synn kick asses all round, and they all go down. Two matches, in and out. No sweat...you got this.
He lowers his voice to a whisper, unheard by the camera as he continues to mumble something to himself. At the end, he pulls something from his shirt, tied around his neck- a dogtag -and gives it a kiss. He turns back to his partner.
Sorry Synn, I just needed to...y’know…
I gotcha man, no biggie...so, you ready for this shit?
Ready and waiting.
Good, I was getting worried you might bolt, or not show up at all.
Me, bail? Never.
Crow chuckles, and Synn cracks a smile.
The time is almost hear, they are gonna call your name shortly...wanna get ready?
Crow nods, and returns to the mirror and takes a seat. He pulls out a drawer from the desk, that is full of various colors of facepaints. He looks around, trying to decide on which to use.
Just stick with the usual, man. No need to confuse the punters.
Crow nods, and starts to rub some white paint onto his face. As we close in further, we can see he is looking different...clean. Fresh. His beard is trimmed neatly, his long hair is cut and washed. His skin even looks better. He looks like a new man, except for one issue…
Still getting the shakes? Don’t worry about that man, it happens everyone. It’ll go away with time.
Yeah, I guess.
As he applies facepaint, his hand trembles, shaking across his skin.
Look...kicking the habit cold turkey is tough, and no man should have to do it alone. That’s why I’m here. So just think of the night ahead of us, focus on the matches you have and it should be all good. Just...keep you mind busy I guess.
Yeah...busy…
...what do you think your chances are? Like, how do you think it’s gonna go?
Tonight? Smooth man, we’re gonna kick some ass!
Crow smiles and Synn reciprocates.
...Bobby is tough cookie, I’ve been watching some of his clips. Good in the ring, great on the mic, and sneaky enough to catch you off-guard. I can’t turn my back on him, and I can’t let him get a momentum going. This match won’t have gold on the line but, y’know...it’s big for me.
I get you, pride and all that...just make sure to give him a few slaps for me. Win or lose, this is big stuff man. Representing the entire AXW against the chunkiest fed on the Network is something amazing, and they see you as such a threat they are throwing their best guy at you. Take it how you will, but that’s a compliment right there. And a little fear too if you ask me.
Yeah man...yeah! I guess it is!
The two men continue applying their face paints, Synn opting for the classic goth/ vampirism look while Crow is just splashing it on here and there.
...I have to say, I’m pretty excited to get out there myself tonight. Like, it’s been a long time coming for me, y’know the chance to get back into a team. But to do it with my brother in arms...and the chance to become champs all over again?...it just feels awesome man, win OR lose we get to say we are XHF championship level now. And that feels...fuck…it's good man.
Yeah man, feels real good dude…
Crow continues to shake in his seat, tremors getting worse.
Man, if things are bad, and you feel like hell, we could always...you know...try this after Supremacy?
No man, I’m kicking the booze and not going back...it’s brought me nothing but pain and suffering. I’m done.
Yeah, I get that and I’ll support the shit out of that decision, but I also don't want you going into shock or something in the ring! Cold turkey is rough just sitting at home on the sofa, but going into back to back matches?? Crow...you can have a drink.
No man...no. It’s done, I’ve made up my mind...sitting here like a chump, losing to freaks and has-beens...fucking Anomaly got the better of me. A kid! A blow-in! And then Price, Arnold and all these other goons...I have a problem man, and it's only getting worse. It’s about time I take action...I NEED to take action…
Synn nods, consoling his best friend.
Well after tonight, let’s see what we do about finding you a clinic or something, alright?
The two men continue to apply their face paints and chit chat, until there is a knock on the door- a stage hand, letting them know it’s about time. They get up, do their last minute double checks and leave the locker room, but not before Synn runs back in for something. Crow waits in the hall, confused until Synn reemerges, a large bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand.
Can’t forget this now, can we!
Synn man, what did we just talk abo-
Crow...stop. This isn’t to drink, it’s to fool Bobby, and the Darkness, and Team Tron, and the rest of the plebs trying to stop us taking gold from the GUNS tonight.
Synn hands Crow the bottle, but he doesn’t accept it.
Dude...they think you are a mess. A drunk, an idiot, and bumbling fool...hell, I think that! But tonight you are going into that ring, clean sharp and ready to blow them all away. But THEY don’t know that, they will be expecting you to be asleep in our corner or something. So...play the part. You get me?
Crow understands, and reluctantly takes the bottle in his hand, a heavy weight of alcohol, but weightless compared to the weight the poison has laid on his life. The two men follow the stage hand to where the stage area is set up, and he tells them to stay put.
I guess this is it...whew, I think I’m gonna be sick…
Dude, you got this. Cut the shit!
I’d rather a week of hangovers than this...this feeling...what is it? It’s like all my sense are fired up, my sight and the sounds, even my smell is on overload.
Uh, that's called sobriety my man...jeez, how longs it been! We need to book you into DDP Yoga, stat! Haha...look man, it’ll all be second nature once you are out there. Just go rip it up. This match with Bobby will be a piece of cake, the kids all flair and mouth, but zero sustenance. Stand your ground, and bust him up.
StormCrow nods, slightly feeling better.
The next match I’ll be by your side, and in your corner. We got a good long break between this and the tag tournament, so it’ll all be gravy. MushiMushi and Team Tranny will go down easy, The Darkness are not even on my radar, so all we need to do is put them out early and take out the GUNS...we got this man!
From further down the hall, on the other side of the gorilla position we get a loud myriad of both boos and cheers mixed, and the crowd parts for us to see what's going on...Bobby Barratt, dressed and ready for this match. The stage hand puts him into position, as he arrogantly looks over at Crow and winks. He rubs his gold AWF belt around his waist, and mouths something that StormCrow but its inaudible.
That smug piece of...man I can’t wait to wipe the smile off his mug.
Crow stretches out his arms in the air, before power-pointing down to the XHF European Championship around his own waist. We DO hear what Crow is shouting…
SUCK IT BOBBY BLUE-BALLS! You fucking stink, man!
Alright alright, calm yourself...here, take this, get pumped up...you’re gonna whup ass man. StormCrow, back in the ring, sober and wild...lets do this man!
The two best friends hug it out, and Synn hands StormCrow the Jack Daniels bottle before the stage hand pulls him away and right to the curtain area. We hear the announcement coming form outside, with boos as Bobby’s name is mentioned, and cheers as Crow’s is mentioned.
Alright Crow...this is it...you versus Bobby in front of the world...you got this man, you got this...we’ll worry ‘bout the tag titles later. The GUNS won’t be a match for you, for Synn. You’ll do it, you’ll pull it off. Don’t even think of it, that’s later…
As he waits, nervously, he eyes the bottle of Jack in his hands…
...fuck it…
He spins the cap off, and take a large swig of the hooch, the hot nectar stinging his mouth and throat. He coughs, the taste of alcohol catching him off guard.
Fuck...tastes like shit...a few days off the booze and you turn against me? Come on!
He takes another swig, stomaching this one even better. The arena goes quiet for a moment, before the blasting guitars sounds of Rage Against The Machine starts to rip it up. The stage hand tells him to go, but Crow stands there, his eyes closed.
...this is it. Your time. Those days on the streets are behind you. Those nights asleep under the stars, those long hungry days...your back baby. Listen to those cheers, the people are singing your name. You are their Champion! You are their main eventer! You are the fucking Storm Crow!
The music plays, the crowd go crazy in anticipation, but Crow still hasn’t moved. The stage hand walks over and shouts at him to move. Crow nods, and takes one big long gulp of Jack Daniels, whilst making direct eye contact with Bobby Barratt.
It’s fucking time, baby! Woo-rah!
He spits Jack Daniels into the air over him, a cloud of hooch landing on his hair and face, streaming his facepaint slightly, before marching forward through the curtain. We see StormCrow disappear finally to the stage area, but we are met with a torrent of cheers and applause, delighted fans ecstatic to see their favourite superstar make his appearance, and go fight the biggest match of his adult life...tonight, the Crow flies again!
