Icons on Tour. RP3 for EOD round 2

[Bobby Barratt]

The scene opens up in an old abandoned Prison. Dust covers most of the floors, the place has been long since deserted. A few objects were left behind when the place was officially locked up but nothing of note. We see Bobby Barratt pacing back and forward in one of the cells, the door pulled closed. 

Bobby: Eric, you know I have a feeling you know how I feel right now. Knowing that this...this is your life. This is your room and the only privacy you get is these steel bars that separate you from the men that committed the most depraved crimes in order to occupy the cell next to you. 

Bobby sits down on an old bed. It's mainly just framework at this point, so he perches on the edge of the grey steel, rather than risk the mattress.

Bobby: The thing is, since you've been free, Eric. This place...Well your place still houses your mind...Your soul. You refuse to ever leave the place, yet still try to rebuild your life and reputation at my expense. 

Bobby pauses for effect.

Bobby: You talk about how everyone else treats you as a reprobate, a criminal and a reject of society, yet any time we see you on TV, all you're doing is reliving that life. Analysing every moment that you spent behind bars, isolated from the world. You constantly remind us that you are an ex convict and you refuse to move on from that point in your life. You know what Eric? Nothing ever will change, if you don't move on. If all you want to do is talk about jail, then don't be surprised if that's what you're treated like! Not that it matters anyway. Come End of Days: Witching Hour, your road to redemption comes to an end. Your friend Homie couldn't school you under his wing about what happens when a man crushes your spirit in front of thousands of people both live and at home. 

Bobby pulls out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a drag. 

Bobby: See Eric, we know in jail, all you did was get bigger in the Gym, play cards in your bunk and the showers? Well my Lawyer says I probably shouldn't talk about that.

Bobby laughs to himself, taking another drag on his cigarette as he stands back up, approaching the doors.

Bobby: Come Witching Hour, these doors will be open. Both physically and metaphorically. Bobby Barratt is no longer a caged animal operating under AWF rules. Bobby Barratt is no longer working with the Icon code. Bobby Barratt is....unca-

Bobby tries to open the door, but quickly realises it's stuck.

Bobby: Uncaged! 

Bobby tries the door again, to no avail. 

Bobby: Jack! Mav! Who the fuck locked the door!.....Guys? Someone get a locksmith!

The scene fades to black as Bobby is heard banging against the door, trying to rattle it open.

Bobby: LADS!!!!!

---

We come back and Bobby sits in a Cafe with Jack and Maverick. All of them are scarfing down on breakfast. 

Jack: Your face was a picture!

Bobby: Piss off! I should have known the minute I asked you to close that door, you'd drop the pin in the lock and leave me hanging!

Maverick is struggling to contain himself for laughter as Jack makes jokes at Bobby's expense. 

Bobby: So how are you guys feeling? I mean Mav is out of....well everything now. He's taking himself an easy few weeks.

Maverick: Get fucked. Don't try and put the heat on me because you looked like an idiot on TV. 

Bobby: Jack, how's training coming along your side? You managing to fit it all between the Casino and AWF stuff?

Jack: Yeah, Jack Diamond has got this. A few weeks time and I'll still be holding a LOT of gold and we add some more to the pile, am I right?

Bobby: Too true. Not to mention the End of Days contract!

Jack: Yeah, it's a guaranteed rematch for the Prestige Championship! Definitely the way back for you!

Bobby: Yeah...something like that. Who knows?

Jack: What do you mean? 

Bobby: Well a contract like that? Who knows? I mean there's new feds springing up every minute. Imagine me storming in with my contract, picking up their title, adding another belt to my list and spreading the Icon name!

Maverick: Not a bad shout! I hear Ember Ferrari wouldn't mind taking you on.

Bobby spits out the Coffee he was sipping on, covering Jack in a mix of Coffee, Eggs and Bacon. 

Jack: Dude!

Bobby: What! It's his fault!

Bobby tosses a napkin to Jack for him to sort out his suit. Jack pushes it aside.

Bobby: You're not going to clean that up?

Jack: You think I ever wear a suit twice?

The waitress walks by the table, putting a plate on there containing the bill. Bobby pulls the bill across to him and takes a look at it. He makes a show of going through his pockets.

Bobby: Shit...

Maverick: What's up?

Bobby: I left my wallet on the table again. 

Maverick: Fuck's sake. You need to start paying your way, man. 

Bobby: Yeah, yeah I know. I'll get you next time, right?

Bobby slides the bill across the Maverick, who rolls his eyes. Jack giggles at him getting stuck with the bill. 

Bobby: Hey guys...

Jack and Maverick look up.

Bobby: This is like every Eric Chronister promo on the Network. Look at us wolfing down food.

Both Icons laugh at Bobby. Maverick tosses a few hundreds onto the table and they pick up and leave. 

The scene cuts to all three men in the car. Maverick drives, while Jack gets shotgun.

Maverick: Won't pay for his meal, he can sit in the back!

Bobby mouths a few curse words in Maverick's direction behind his back before pulling out his phone and putting it in selfie mode. Bobby hits the Record button and starts shooting.

Bobby: So XHF. This is us. Icons on tour. We are headed across to Salem right now. The bags are packed and we are ready for End of Days: Witching Hour. Maverick? Jack? They have the night off, but they're coming along for the ride. They're coming to support the XHF Living Legend in action!

Maverick: What's he doing back there?!

Jack: Promos on the road. No harm in getting stuff done on the fly. 

Bobby: So it's round two! Quarter finals... that's last eight right, lads?

Maverick: You fool....

Bobby: Hey! I only care about the last match. Some of us only reside in that zone. This preliminary shit doesn't fly with me.

Maverick: Yeah, how did that work out at Fired Up?

Bobby: Hey fuck off, before I put you back in Hospital! Losing in the first round and thinking he can give me shit...Anyways. Eric. You look like you're struggling now. Getting into town, you can't afford a room so you're having to sleep rough. "Ah it's OK, I did time inside." WE ALL KNOW YOU DID BY NOW, YOU OVERGROWN FUCK! I swear, all we've seen is you talking about prison and eating extra crispy chicken! 

Laughter is heard from the front of the car. 

Bobby: You know, I took a look at the history of the End of Days winners. Some real names in there. Some I know, some I've heard....and Jackson fucking Steele. That belt stealing prick still hasn't received his come-uppance for....Well...Stealing my belt! What a smug looking picture! You know what? Everywhere I look, that guy has his face plastered all over something...

Maverick: Or something plastered all over his face!

Bobby: Dude! Did you not SEE the state of my house the other day? I can't get caught up with the gay jokes! That being said....NICE!

Bobby slaps Mav a high five. 

Bobby: So count the days Eric. You're used to that by now. You probably have a little whiteboard next to whatever bed you're crashing in that night. Making little tally marks on how many days until you find another KFC, all while regailing us with bland bullshit stories about playing cards in prison. Keep counting those days. Come Sunday, you'll earn your freedom. You'll be released from the End of Days tournament all courtesy of myself, yours truly, Bobby Barratt. Cut the feed!

Bobby hits Stop on his recording, uploading another cheaply made video to the Network feed. The car speeds off into the distance as the Icons are on tour!