Post by silver on Sept 19, 2007 20:31:47 GMT -6
9-14-2007
The scene fades in on a young couple lying entwined together in a king sized bed. A thin sheen of sweat covers the pair, and soaks the bed spread. A digital setting next to an Apple iPhone on a night stand beside the bed, reads five-thirty-eight a.m. The couple shifts positions ever so slightly, and “Dance, Dance” by Fall Out Boy blasts out of the iPhone’s tiny speaker.
The man’s hand shoots out, and misses the telephone. He tries a second time, and gets the same result. Groaning he rolls over, hoping to get a better aim, but finds that he is too far over in the on the bed. The man’s ass slams into the floor with the speed of a blinking eye, and his head connects with the night stand a second later.
“God damnit!” The man nearly shouted, as he snapped himself up to his feet. “I’m going to kill whoever it is calling me this early in the mother f**king morning!”
The young woman sat up and gave her boyfriend an irritated look. Her gaze said more than she could have managed, at the moment. It said, just answer the phone.
The man, finally, snatched the smart phone up off the night stand, and smashed his thumb into the receive “button.” “You better have a good d**n reason for waking me up at six in the d**n morning. Start talking.” The young man said into the receiver.
“I do have a good reason you little f**king punk. Why were you asleep anyway? Shouldn’t you be training?” A strange yet familiar voice said over the tiny speaker. The young man could tell whoever it was, was indeed a male, but still couldn’t tell who it actually was. He looked to his girlfriend, and cocked an eyebrow in slight confusion.
“Who is this?” the man asked. The signal traveled far across the face of the planet, and it met a smile on the face of the other man.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” The voice allowed a moment for his companion to answer. The young man didn’t. “Well, I certainly remember you, Ryan Knight. Something you said to me a long time ago has finally come to pass, and I’m in need of your particular type of help.”
Ryan Knight growled slightly as he answered. “Will you drop the d**n riddles, and tell me who the f**k you are?” The woman in the king sized bed continued to star at her boyfriend with the same irritated look. She watched as Ryan paced beside the bed, a sign he himself was irritated. His long, messy, brown hair was matted to his scalp, the sweat holding it there like glue. His brown eyes were glazed, and small bags had developed right under them. A five o’clock shadow had worked its way across his face, and many different bruises danced across his body. An extremely large bruise showed on his ribs, and an even larger bruise could have been found on his right leg. Nearly the entire calf muscle was consumed by it. His girlfriend simply rolled her eyes, and put a pillow back over her head.
“Come on, Ryan! You can’t tell me you’ve forgotten me.” The man on the other end of the phone said, his irritation hidden behind a façade of mild annoyance.
Knight shook his head before answering. “Nope, I really can’t say that I do, and if you don’t get to the d**n point, I’m hanging up!”
“Fine, you f**king stick in the mud,” the voice started. “It’s Silver, did that paint a clear enough f**king picture for you.”
Ryan Knight stopped in mid-stride. Silver was a name he had not heard in a long time. It was the name of a young man he had fought and lost time and time and time again when he first started his amateur career in the states. The last thing Knight had said to him was, ‘I’m going to break your legs, you little bastard!’ Now, Silver was asking Knight to help him out, and, if Ryan wasn’t mistaken, it was because someone had done just that. “Why should I help you?” Knight’s voice was cold and hard.
“Because you and I were a lot alike, we’ve both worked very hard to get where we are, we’re both very determined to push ourselves forward, and we’ve both been betrayed by those who’re very close to us…” Silver let the statement hang in the air.
“I’ll think about it.” Ryan Knight said just before he hung up the phone. He looked back to the bed, back to his sleeping Alessa, and thought that it was going to be a long week. The scene fades to black as he climbs back into bed.
____________________________________________________
9-19-2007
The cameras rejoin Ryan Knight as he sits in front of a black and red POW banner. A frown is apparent on the young man’s face, a frown probably caused by the young man sitting beside him, Greg Kilgeen.
Kilgreen: Mr. Knight, this Friday will be your first match here at POW, and its going to be a title defense and unification match, against the CIA, Final Cut, and the team of Nick Pickles and Bubba. How do you feel about that?
Knight locks a cold stare onto Kilgreen.
Knight: Well, Greg, to be honest, it pisses me the F**K off. Don’t even bother asking why. I planned on telling you anyway. I was stripped of my Ultraviolent Title, right after defending it for the fourth time, because, I decided to come to POW to help Silver defend his title. And, I’ve got to two of this year’s worst tag teams, plus a defunct champion I’m really not looking foreword to this match. Though, one good thing will come out of it. At least I’ll get to have my gold back.
The scene fades to black as Knight walks away.
The scene fades in on a young couple lying entwined together in a king sized bed. A thin sheen of sweat covers the pair, and soaks the bed spread. A digital setting next to an Apple iPhone on a night stand beside the bed, reads five-thirty-eight a.m. The couple shifts positions ever so slightly, and “Dance, Dance” by Fall Out Boy blasts out of the iPhone’s tiny speaker.
The man’s hand shoots out, and misses the telephone. He tries a second time, and gets the same result. Groaning he rolls over, hoping to get a better aim, but finds that he is too far over in the on the bed. The man’s ass slams into the floor with the speed of a blinking eye, and his head connects with the night stand a second later.
“God damnit!” The man nearly shouted, as he snapped himself up to his feet. “I’m going to kill whoever it is calling me this early in the mother f**king morning!”
The young woman sat up and gave her boyfriend an irritated look. Her gaze said more than she could have managed, at the moment. It said, just answer the phone.
The man, finally, snatched the smart phone up off the night stand, and smashed his thumb into the receive “button.” “You better have a good d**n reason for waking me up at six in the d**n morning. Start talking.” The young man said into the receiver.
“I do have a good reason you little f**king punk. Why were you asleep anyway? Shouldn’t you be training?” A strange yet familiar voice said over the tiny speaker. The young man could tell whoever it was, was indeed a male, but still couldn’t tell who it actually was. He looked to his girlfriend, and cocked an eyebrow in slight confusion.
“Who is this?” the man asked. The signal traveled far across the face of the planet, and it met a smile on the face of the other man.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” The voice allowed a moment for his companion to answer. The young man didn’t. “Well, I certainly remember you, Ryan Knight. Something you said to me a long time ago has finally come to pass, and I’m in need of your particular type of help.”
Ryan Knight growled slightly as he answered. “Will you drop the d**n riddles, and tell me who the f**k you are?” The woman in the king sized bed continued to star at her boyfriend with the same irritated look. She watched as Ryan paced beside the bed, a sign he himself was irritated. His long, messy, brown hair was matted to his scalp, the sweat holding it there like glue. His brown eyes were glazed, and small bags had developed right under them. A five o’clock shadow had worked its way across his face, and many different bruises danced across his body. An extremely large bruise showed on his ribs, and an even larger bruise could have been found on his right leg. Nearly the entire calf muscle was consumed by it. His girlfriend simply rolled her eyes, and put a pillow back over her head.
“Come on, Ryan! You can’t tell me you’ve forgotten me.” The man on the other end of the phone said, his irritation hidden behind a façade of mild annoyance.
Knight shook his head before answering. “Nope, I really can’t say that I do, and if you don’t get to the d**n point, I’m hanging up!”
“Fine, you f**king stick in the mud,” the voice started. “It’s Silver, did that paint a clear enough f**king picture for you.”
Ryan Knight stopped in mid-stride. Silver was a name he had not heard in a long time. It was the name of a young man he had fought and lost time and time and time again when he first started his amateur career in the states. The last thing Knight had said to him was, ‘I’m going to break your legs, you little bastard!’ Now, Silver was asking Knight to help him out, and, if Ryan wasn’t mistaken, it was because someone had done just that. “Why should I help you?” Knight’s voice was cold and hard.
“Because you and I were a lot alike, we’ve both worked very hard to get where we are, we’re both very determined to push ourselves forward, and we’ve both been betrayed by those who’re very close to us…” Silver let the statement hang in the air.
“I’ll think about it.” Ryan Knight said just before he hung up the phone. He looked back to the bed, back to his sleeping Alessa, and thought that it was going to be a long week. The scene fades to black as he climbs back into bed.
____________________________________________________
9-19-2007
The cameras rejoin Ryan Knight as he sits in front of a black and red POW banner. A frown is apparent on the young man’s face, a frown probably caused by the young man sitting beside him, Greg Kilgeen.
Kilgreen: Mr. Knight, this Friday will be your first match here at POW, and its going to be a title defense and unification match, against the CIA, Final Cut, and the team of Nick Pickles and Bubba. How do you feel about that?
Knight locks a cold stare onto Kilgreen.
Knight: Well, Greg, to be honest, it pisses me the F**K off. Don’t even bother asking why. I planned on telling you anyway. I was stripped of my Ultraviolent Title, right after defending it for the fourth time, because, I decided to come to POW to help Silver defend his title. And, I’ve got to two of this year’s worst tag teams, plus a defunct champion I’m really not looking foreword to this match. Though, one good thing will come out of it. At least I’ll get to have my gold back.
The scene fades to black as Knight walks away.