Post by The Predator on May 24, 2012 8:43:58 GMT -6
The gym just looks like it can't smell all that good. The camera opens on a large, converted warehouse, dilapidated and ill maintained, full of mismatched exercise equipment, and packed to the rafters with all sorts of muscle-bound athletic types; Some look unnaturally ripped, others lean and toned, and everything in between.
Most are drenched with sweat. Some nursing bruises and bloody noses. All eyes are on a ring in the center of the room where the action is.
A long-haired, disheveled muscle head hits the ropes like a freight train, whipping off of them and straight into a waiting clothesline from another massive man in a rash guard and sweats. The poor victim hits the ground like he's been shot, and lays moaning, curling in on himself.
The other gentleman casually wipes his hair out of his eyes and the sweat off his face. He walks nonchalantly to one of the ring corners, where another, much smaller and gawkier man begins to towel him off and minister to his comfort.
The camera zooms in as they begin to share words.
"How ya feeling, champ?"
"Like my lungs are exploding. This was way easier five years ago."
He takes a swig of water, then turns violently, laying out a new wrestler who has entered the ring with a big right hand.
His manager claps and laughs.
"Teach these pups what a champion can do!"
Predator throws a friendly wink and a smirk ringside, and picks up his new sparring partner, whipping his across the ring so viciously he flies outside the ropes. The room erupts with cheers as the new opponent thuds to the floor outside.
"Evidently, I still have it."
He waives congenially to the gym to indicate he is done with his practice, and the rabble begin to return to their workouts, punching bags and lifting weights, all the while murmuring excitedly.
The Predator exits the ring toweling himself off, with his fast talking manager in tow.
"D, mate, they booked you in a match. A PPV match! You're doing it, brother, you're coming back for real!"
He excitedly claps the larger Predator on the back, who smiles at him tiredly.
"Well, no use starting slow, huh? Lets just hit the ground running. I'll be excited to perform for the fans again."
"They'll be thrilled to see you, boss. Wrestling hasn't been the same since you left it."
Predator offers a sad smile.
"It's not the same sport I left, John. We'll see what happens. I'll just make sure I train hard and stay sharp. I have a few tricks yet to teach the young blood, I reckon."
John nods excitedly, and walks off camera, fishing a cell phone out of his pocket as he does so. He calls back off screen.
"We're filming a promo tonight at 7, Pred! Wear a damn suit, will ya!"
Predator snorts and gives a short salute. He then chuckles, and laughs to himself.
"I may have been here for years, but I'll let them call it a comeback..."
Blackout
Most are drenched with sweat. Some nursing bruises and bloody noses. All eyes are on a ring in the center of the room where the action is.
A long-haired, disheveled muscle head hits the ropes like a freight train, whipping off of them and straight into a waiting clothesline from another massive man in a rash guard and sweats. The poor victim hits the ground like he's been shot, and lays moaning, curling in on himself.
The other gentleman casually wipes his hair out of his eyes and the sweat off his face. He walks nonchalantly to one of the ring corners, where another, much smaller and gawkier man begins to towel him off and minister to his comfort.
The camera zooms in as they begin to share words.
"How ya feeling, champ?"
"Like my lungs are exploding. This was way easier five years ago."
He takes a swig of water, then turns violently, laying out a new wrestler who has entered the ring with a big right hand.
His manager claps and laughs.
"Teach these pups what a champion can do!"
Predator throws a friendly wink and a smirk ringside, and picks up his new sparring partner, whipping his across the ring so viciously he flies outside the ropes. The room erupts with cheers as the new opponent thuds to the floor outside.
"Evidently, I still have it."
He waives congenially to the gym to indicate he is done with his practice, and the rabble begin to return to their workouts, punching bags and lifting weights, all the while murmuring excitedly.
The Predator exits the ring toweling himself off, with his fast talking manager in tow.
"D, mate, they booked you in a match. A PPV match! You're doing it, brother, you're coming back for real!"
He excitedly claps the larger Predator on the back, who smiles at him tiredly.
"Well, no use starting slow, huh? Lets just hit the ground running. I'll be excited to perform for the fans again."
"They'll be thrilled to see you, boss. Wrestling hasn't been the same since you left it."
Predator offers a sad smile.
"It's not the same sport I left, John. We'll see what happens. I'll just make sure I train hard and stay sharp. I have a few tricks yet to teach the young blood, I reckon."
John nods excitedly, and walks off camera, fishing a cell phone out of his pocket as he does so. He calls back off screen.
"We're filming a promo tonight at 7, Pred! Wear a damn suit, will ya!"
Predator snorts and gives a short salute. He then chuckles, and laughs to himself.
"I may have been here for years, but I'll let them call it a comeback..."
Blackout