Post by The Predator on Jul 5, 2012 2:15:41 GMT -6
We open in a home, lavishly furnished and exquisitely comfortable. A fireplace roars and serves as light for the living room, where the Predator sleeps on a luxurious leather recliner, feet inclined on an ottoman. He is dressed in complete ring gear, torn up and worn, his body still coated in a sheen of sweat. Clearly, he sat after a busy workout, and simply fell asleep. He is restless, tossing and turning. We hear a door quietly opening and closing. Lana enters the frame, and moves the Predator's feet off of the Ottoman, sitting on it. He starts awake and looks at her. Her cheek still has a bandage, but otherwise, she looks fantastic.
The Predator stutters, then smiles.
"Well, come in, I guess. How're you feeling?"
She smiles sadly. "I feel good...Much better than how you must feel. After that disgusting ambush..."
He shrugs. "I've taken worse from them over the years. I'm still standing. And I'll get my payback."
She grins and kicks his shin lightly.
"Gonna run to the ring swinging a chair about, eh? That really doesn't sound like your style..."
Predator can't help but chuckle. "Nothing quite so dramatic. You know I hate affecting the outcome of a match I'm not in. I was thinking more along the lines of winning the Champions Advantage and using it. Nothing would piss those chuckleheads off more than the belt around my waist."
She laughs. "Oooh. So fierce and intimidating."
He grins. "Hey, what nickname did I give myself? Fierce and intimidating used to be my stock and trade."
She leans closer. "But not anymore, apparently. Gentle giant."
He sits up, wincing. "Yeah, well...Running around waving folding chairs and screaming and calling everyone brother? Unless you have a serious issue letting go of the past, that's a young man's pastime. I like to compete. I like to be champion. That's my bag."
She looks at him intently. "You like to be champion? You just came back for the belt?"
He sighs, and rubs his hands through his hair. "When I started winning titles, I was a somebody. I felt like I was doing my brother proud...Making money, being the badass. All the women, all the money. Looking back, I wasn't half the champion I could have been because I was just plain stupid. If I could be dominant then, I can be just as dominant now, and write a whole new page into my legacy. I want to be remembered as the BEST champion ever; USPW is the federation to take my comeback seriously, to offer me a roster spot. My journey in the wrestling game has years to go. I couldn't be happier."
She smirks. "You threw in the women part just to annoy me, huh?"
He smirks back, and shrugs. She laughs, and slaps his shoulder, standing up. He looks up, disappointed. "Leaving so soon?"
She looks back, already leaving. "Have to go do things, boss. Like wake up Johnny and book your flight, look over some contracts...managerial stuff. You get some sleep. You'll need it."
He frowns, and nods as she walks away. Sinking back in his chair, he mutters,
"I'm too old for this shit..."
---
The Predator walks through the airport, confidently and alone, dressed to the nines in a lavish suit with sunglasses. He looks at his ticket, and begins to look for his gate, when a teenager steps in front of him, looking nervous. He's wearing a classic "On the Prowl!" T-Shirt from the FCW days. Predator raises his eyebrows and looks down, but the boy stammers before he can speak.
"Mr. Predator...Dylan...Mr. Michael...I know your real names and stuff, I'm a big fan! And, um, I know after last week you might be a bit nervous, but, could you..."
Predator whips out a pen, and signs the boys shirt, and the photograph he has offered out, and pats him gently on the head.
"Always, kid. I'm never afraid."
Blackout
The Predator stutters, then smiles.
"Well, come in, I guess. How're you feeling?"
She smiles sadly. "I feel good...Much better than how you must feel. After that disgusting ambush..."
He shrugs. "I've taken worse from them over the years. I'm still standing. And I'll get my payback."
She grins and kicks his shin lightly.
"Gonna run to the ring swinging a chair about, eh? That really doesn't sound like your style..."
Predator can't help but chuckle. "Nothing quite so dramatic. You know I hate affecting the outcome of a match I'm not in. I was thinking more along the lines of winning the Champions Advantage and using it. Nothing would piss those chuckleheads off more than the belt around my waist."
She laughs. "Oooh. So fierce and intimidating."
He grins. "Hey, what nickname did I give myself? Fierce and intimidating used to be my stock and trade."
She leans closer. "But not anymore, apparently. Gentle giant."
He sits up, wincing. "Yeah, well...Running around waving folding chairs and screaming and calling everyone brother? Unless you have a serious issue letting go of the past, that's a young man's pastime. I like to compete. I like to be champion. That's my bag."
She looks at him intently. "You like to be champion? You just came back for the belt?"
He sighs, and rubs his hands through his hair. "When I started winning titles, I was a somebody. I felt like I was doing my brother proud...Making money, being the badass. All the women, all the money. Looking back, I wasn't half the champion I could have been because I was just plain stupid. If I could be dominant then, I can be just as dominant now, and write a whole new page into my legacy. I want to be remembered as the BEST champion ever; USPW is the federation to take my comeback seriously, to offer me a roster spot. My journey in the wrestling game has years to go. I couldn't be happier."
She smirks. "You threw in the women part just to annoy me, huh?"
He smirks back, and shrugs. She laughs, and slaps his shoulder, standing up. He looks up, disappointed. "Leaving so soon?"
She looks back, already leaving. "Have to go do things, boss. Like wake up Johnny and book your flight, look over some contracts...managerial stuff. You get some sleep. You'll need it."
He frowns, and nods as she walks away. Sinking back in his chair, he mutters,
"I'm too old for this shit..."
---
The Predator walks through the airport, confidently and alone, dressed to the nines in a lavish suit with sunglasses. He looks at his ticket, and begins to look for his gate, when a teenager steps in front of him, looking nervous. He's wearing a classic "On the Prowl!" T-Shirt from the FCW days. Predator raises his eyebrows and looks down, but the boy stammers before he can speak.
"Mr. Predator...Dylan...Mr. Michael...I know your real names and stuff, I'm a big fan! And, um, I know after last week you might be a bit nervous, but, could you..."
Predator whips out a pen, and signs the boys shirt, and the photograph he has offered out, and pats him gently on the head.
"Always, kid. I'm never afraid."
Blackout