Post by BRADDOCK on Oct 7, 2023 14:18:32 GMT -5
The camera opens on BRADDOCK who is sitting in an old Lay-Z-Boy in his backyard. The grass green but there are patches of dead grass here and there. Behind him is a six foot wooden privacy fence and next to the chair are two milk crates, one stacked on top of the other, with a piece of wood to make a table. A bong rests in the shade that the chair is throwing, next to a small cooler. A can of Pabst rests on the makeshift table and beads of sweat have formed a ring of water at the base.
BRADDOCK has on a black tank top with the word “Dirtbag" written in Olde English across his chest and a pair of cut-off black jean shorts. His Mohawk is on point and the sun occasionally casts a starburst off of his black framed glasses. He smirks at the camera and nods to himself.
”So, Jenna, you and I are gonna meet once again? This time, however, it is for the number one contendership to the Television Championship. And I can only imagine how badly you want this opportunity.” he chuckles to himself.
”To tell the truth, I don’t think I even know who the Television Champ is.” he says with a shrug. ”It doesn’t matter. I gotta deal with you, first, Jenna and I haven’t forgotten our last meeting. I remember what you’re capable of and I’m sparring with someone who wrestles pretty similar to you. I won’t give you the same opportunities as last time but the ending will be the same; me nearly decapitating you before getting the win.”
He tips his head back and drains the can of Pabst. He crushes the empty against his skull before belching while getting another Pabst out if the cooler next to the chair. He pops the top and downs half the beer in two gulps.
”On October fourteenth, in Chattanooga Tennessee, I am seizing the number one contender spot even if that means putting you in the hospital. Bring on the fight, Jenna, but just know that this match can only end one way; my hand raised in victory. But, look at the bright side, you’ll be the first person to get the Mansfield Curse. It’s nothin personal… just business.”
He picks up the bong and fishes a lighter from his pocket. As the scene fades out, the lighter pops aflame and the flame is applied to the bowl. The last thing we hear is the percolating water in the bong.
BRADDOCK has on a black tank top with the word “Dirtbag" written in Olde English across his chest and a pair of cut-off black jean shorts. His Mohawk is on point and the sun occasionally casts a starburst off of his black framed glasses. He smirks at the camera and nods to himself.
”So, Jenna, you and I are gonna meet once again? This time, however, it is for the number one contendership to the Television Championship. And I can only imagine how badly you want this opportunity.” he chuckles to himself.
”To tell the truth, I don’t think I even know who the Television Champ is.” he says with a shrug. ”It doesn’t matter. I gotta deal with you, first, Jenna and I haven’t forgotten our last meeting. I remember what you’re capable of and I’m sparring with someone who wrestles pretty similar to you. I won’t give you the same opportunities as last time but the ending will be the same; me nearly decapitating you before getting the win.”
He tips his head back and drains the can of Pabst. He crushes the empty against his skull before belching while getting another Pabst out if the cooler next to the chair. He pops the top and downs half the beer in two gulps.
”On October fourteenth, in Chattanooga Tennessee, I am seizing the number one contender spot even if that means putting you in the hospital. Bring on the fight, Jenna, but just know that this match can only end one way; my hand raised in victory. But, look at the bright side, you’ll be the first person to get the Mansfield Curse. It’s nothin personal… just business.”
He picks up the bong and fishes a lighter from his pocket. As the scene fades out, the lighter pops aflame and the flame is applied to the bowl. The last thing we hear is the percolating water in the bong.