Post by Cory Chevelle on Apr 29, 2023 19:19:17 GMT -5
Back on the Saddle again
By Cory Chevelle
"I've got that itch again."
The scene opens from the inside of a familiar gym, Camp Silverback. Not a soul insight except for the mountainous figure of a man inside the training ring. His silhouette appears more like an ominous shape at first. His movements are slow and predatory like that of a great white lurking in the depths, stalking its prey. As soon as he steps underneath the overhead light, his face becomes clear. Grizzled and scarred, but he grins with those pale blue eyes staring straight into the camera.
"God damn. What a piss poor state this business, this sport has fallen to. Maybe I don't need to tell you, but in the event that you find yourselves sitting at home wondering 'Wgi the hell is this big ass hillbilly on my TV?' I'm Cory Chevelle, but you can call me your Papa Chevy".
"Olympic Gold Medalist.
Champion.
Hall of Famer.
The foul-mouthed-Appalachian-Baby makin-Great White Ape of the Midwest!
The Hellbilly.
The Silverback.
The Man who doesnt just show up to clock in and clock out, NO! He came to fuh-[dj scratch] or fight and GOD DAMN! You best deliver."
"That's just for those of you who may have been under a rock or lack an honest education surrounding the history of this sport. Maybe I've popped up in your neck of the woods, maybe not. Doesn't change the fact of the matter, which is I'm here now, and I'm wondering which pie-eyed lil sonuvabitch I'm thump'n on first."
"Slow down old man, you've been away for a while. Our champion, Lil Johnny Numbnuts is king around here..."
Chevy stops, grinning before he raises his head back, chin out. He runs his hand through his beard momentarily and looks away, contemplating for a moment. With a look of bewilderment and dumbfound, he steps forward once more before continuing.
"Well..."
"Ain't that just cute."
If you think I'm coming back to prove myself against your champions, your Gods amongst mice and men..."
"You're wrong."
"I don't give a damn. I'm not here for that, I'm here to fight and here to find out which one of you is actually worth a skunks piss inside the ring, which is my coliseum."
"I'm back because I miss it."
"So in short, I'm here for me. Not Johnny Numbnuts. With all due respect."
Chevy pauses, taking two steps back from the ropes. His eyes take a good but short glance around the empty, darkened gym. With a quick shift to his left, he looks at the boldened lettering and logo. "This is Silverback Country." He points to it, changing his focus back into the camera rolling on him.
"That's all anyone really needs to know."
Fade to black.
Earlier that day...
It's another day at the office. Chevelle is sitting in his office at the head of a long cedar table. His daughter, Haley sitting off to the side and various members of his staff and camera crew gather around the table.
"So what are you doing for the promo this afternoon? Please tell me you finally thought of something to release."
Chevelle gives a side glare at his daughter, as if she had no faith in the man. He then leans back, placing his hands behind his head and gives her a smug grin.
"Hell I'm just doin something short and sweet. We'll shoot it here at the gym, nothing fancy. Sound good?"
Haley nods, appearing to be jotting something in her planner, her 'book of books' as her dad calls it."
"Wow. Didn't see that one coming."
She slaps the planner shut and looks over at her dad who's rolling his eyes.
"Dad. Don't roll your eyes at me. You hired me, remember? I still think you should drop in and make an appearance at the show. Fans will react to that even more. You've been gone a while, it would be good for you."
"Yeah, but you see..."
Chevy leans forward in his chair, addressing Haley directly
"They aren't paying me for that date, and I think a slow milker is gonna be our best entrance strategy. Plus it gives me time to get a lay of the land, figure out the politics of the place. I don't wanna rush in to this one Haley. We're doing this right."
Making his point, Chevy leaned back in the chair once more. Haley just nodded, she knew better than to argue with him. It was after all, his decision. She jotted a couple notes and looked over at the clock hanging on the east wall of the office.
"Alright, anything else I need to know? What figures are you looking at for a contract and what do you want our budget to be like..."
"Six figures at least. I want two million per appearance, and as for the film budget...hell I don't care. We'll split the cost with the company that way everybody makes money. Cut em in for fifteen percent of my merch for their venues. I'll work out the rest and we'll talk more on it later."
"No dad, I'll talk out the rest."
Chevelle nodded before slamming his fist on the table like a judge slams the gavel.
"That's it! Everybody go home. Good meeting."
The room clears out, until only Chevy remains. He gets up, starts shutting lights off and walks out in the main training room. Staring at the ring, he then takes a look around at the walls filled with plaques of past accomplishments.
"Hell. May as well. Hey, come back here with that camera!"
End
By Cory Chevelle
"I've got that itch again."
The scene opens from the inside of a familiar gym, Camp Silverback. Not a soul insight except for the mountainous figure of a man inside the training ring. His silhouette appears more like an ominous shape at first. His movements are slow and predatory like that of a great white lurking in the depths, stalking its prey. As soon as he steps underneath the overhead light, his face becomes clear. Grizzled and scarred, but he grins with those pale blue eyes staring straight into the camera.
"God damn. What a piss poor state this business, this sport has fallen to. Maybe I don't need to tell you, but in the event that you find yourselves sitting at home wondering 'Wgi the hell is this big ass hillbilly on my TV?' I'm Cory Chevelle, but you can call me your Papa Chevy".
"Olympic Gold Medalist.
Champion.
Hall of Famer.
The foul-mouthed-Appalachian-Baby makin-Great White Ape of the Midwest!
The Hellbilly.
The Silverback.
The Man who doesnt just show up to clock in and clock out, NO! He came to fuh-[dj scratch] or fight and GOD DAMN! You best deliver."
"That's just for those of you who may have been under a rock or lack an honest education surrounding the history of this sport. Maybe I've popped up in your neck of the woods, maybe not. Doesn't change the fact of the matter, which is I'm here now, and I'm wondering which pie-eyed lil sonuvabitch I'm thump'n on first."
"Slow down old man, you've been away for a while. Our champion, Lil Johnny Numbnuts is king around here..."
Chevy stops, grinning before he raises his head back, chin out. He runs his hand through his beard momentarily and looks away, contemplating for a moment. With a look of bewilderment and dumbfound, he steps forward once more before continuing.
"Well..."
"Ain't that just cute."
If you think I'm coming back to prove myself against your champions, your Gods amongst mice and men..."
"You're wrong."
"I don't give a damn. I'm not here for that, I'm here to fight and here to find out which one of you is actually worth a skunks piss inside the ring, which is my coliseum."
"I'm back because I miss it."
"So in short, I'm here for me. Not Johnny Numbnuts. With all due respect."
Chevy pauses, taking two steps back from the ropes. His eyes take a good but short glance around the empty, darkened gym. With a quick shift to his left, he looks at the boldened lettering and logo. "This is Silverback Country." He points to it, changing his focus back into the camera rolling on him.
"That's all anyone really needs to know."
Fade to black.
Earlier that day...
It's another day at the office. Chevelle is sitting in his office at the head of a long cedar table. His daughter, Haley sitting off to the side and various members of his staff and camera crew gather around the table.
"So what are you doing for the promo this afternoon? Please tell me you finally thought of something to release."
Chevelle gives a side glare at his daughter, as if she had no faith in the man. He then leans back, placing his hands behind his head and gives her a smug grin.
"Hell I'm just doin something short and sweet. We'll shoot it here at the gym, nothing fancy. Sound good?"
Haley nods, appearing to be jotting something in her planner, her 'book of books' as her dad calls it."
"Wow. Didn't see that one coming."
She slaps the planner shut and looks over at her dad who's rolling his eyes.
"Dad. Don't roll your eyes at me. You hired me, remember? I still think you should drop in and make an appearance at the show. Fans will react to that even more. You've been gone a while, it would be good for you."
"Yeah, but you see..."
Chevy leans forward in his chair, addressing Haley directly
"They aren't paying me for that date, and I think a slow milker is gonna be our best entrance strategy. Plus it gives me time to get a lay of the land, figure out the politics of the place. I don't wanna rush in to this one Haley. We're doing this right."
Making his point, Chevy leaned back in the chair once more. Haley just nodded, she knew better than to argue with him. It was after all, his decision. She jotted a couple notes and looked over at the clock hanging on the east wall of the office.
"Alright, anything else I need to know? What figures are you looking at for a contract and what do you want our budget to be like..."
"Six figures at least. I want two million per appearance, and as for the film budget...hell I don't care. We'll split the cost with the company that way everybody makes money. Cut em in for fifteen percent of my merch for their venues. I'll work out the rest and we'll talk more on it later."
"No dad, I'll talk out the rest."
Chevelle nodded before slamming his fist on the table like a judge slams the gavel.
"That's it! Everybody go home. Good meeting."
The room clears out, until only Chevy remains. He gets up, starts shutting lights off and walks out in the main training room. Staring at the ring, he then takes a look around at the walls filled with plaques of past accomplishments.
"Hell. May as well. Hey, come back here with that camera!"
End
