View Full Version : WEEK 11: SHAWN DOUGLAS vs. DC STRATTON

04-07-04, 03:19 AM
RP here.

04-18-04, 10:10 PM
(FADEIN: AVERY PROSSER sat in his new office space inside the NFW office building in Boston, Massachusetts. After several legal issues as well as injunctions delivered by Quentin Sullivan's offices, the commissioner of the NFW North finally had won the first of many battles he'd face outside the arenas as long as his objectives remained clear. PROSSER was looking over paperwork, as NEIL RIDDICK and DC STRATTON walked in. RIDDICK wearing his 'devil' suit, all red with black trim and black shoes. His black tie on red shirt combination possibly overdid the 'costume,' but RIDDICK enjoyed the role nontheless. To his right stood his 'discovery,' the reason PROSSER and his boss let him in on the game in the first place. STRATTON's hair hung over his eyes, the greasy black mop uncombed, unkept and uncared about...PROSSER looked up, without smiling and leaned back.)

PROSSER: "Thanks for arriving gentlemen. As you know last week, I ran into some unforeseen obstacles and injunctions with that Uncle Tom running things like its 1986 in the South. Carlton made a shrewd move, but one that he should've saved as I have a plan."

(STRATTON nodded as RIDDICK rubbed his hands with a demonic smile...)

PROSSER: "Now, it seems that due to our attack on Hibachi Shizaki, Shawn Douglas has been labeled as some rookie that Quentin Sullivan will be grooming himself into a future star. Know what I think about that?"

RIDDICK: "That his skin should be melted off his bones?"

(PROSSER arched his eyebrow, nodding his head at RIDDICK who shrugged and went back to smiling...)

PROSSER: "No, no, Neil that comes...('The Prodigy' smiled devilishly) that all comes later. (focusing on DC) You know what I mean, Stratton. Douglas' head has been filled with tales of greatness and glory...he thinks this is some launching pad we're operating. (PROSSER's face turned stone cold as he leaned forward)...you make sure that no matter what..."

(PROSSER let the words hang in the air...)

PROSSER: "...he knows who his BOSS is."

(CLOSEUP: STRATTON's eyes aren't visible, but his face is...and from those words spoken by Avery...he certainly looks happy. TOO happy. BLACK.)

04-22-04, 03:54 AM
The scene faded in on a musty, poorly lit gymnasium in the middle of nowhere. It's empty stands and old basketball nets gave it an eerie feeling but the echoing sound of two voices conversing reestablished the venue's coziness.

"So this is where you had your first match, huh? It must have been a pretty cheap event."

"About 30 people showed up. I got paid 25 bucks plus free food and beverages. It was alright I guess for an 18 year old."

"Wow... I wouldn't last a week in the wrestling business with pay like that." Laughed a warming female voice.

Shawn Douglas smiled. Accompanied by his old high school sweetheart, he took a stroll down memory lane. This was where it all started. Montgomery High, east Los Angeles. 5 years later, not much had changed.

"One thing's ironic though." Shawn noted. "In my first ever match, I went up against my own boss and here I am, five years later, I'm facing my boss again. This time in the NFW."

"How fitting." The young female smiled.

Shawn nodded playfully. "Except this time, it's for a whole different reason. Back then, it was for fun. I had no worries, no cares and no bullsh*t politics to mess with. But now... Now I'm out to prove myself to those who matter in his business. It's been a good ride just wrestling for myself but it's time to move on. Plus, there's a rumor going around that I'm wavering in the eyes of today's 'big shots'. I'm standing on the thin line between making or breaking it and I'll be damned if the see-saw tips over to the wrong side."

"Just don't get caught up with all the crap we hear about in the news. You know, the steroids, the grudges and all. I'm sure wrestling isn't too far from real estate. You can make a nice living, but often have to break people's dreams of having something of their own and the only way to get ahead is ass kissing or backstabbing." Warned the young woman.

"You have no idea how close they are." He replied softly. "But don't worry about me. I've got a head on my shoulders, I know who to trust and who not to trust. And for what it's worth, I think I've got some good people trying to help me out in the NFW. Everything will be all right."

She rested her arm around his shoulders. "Fine. I believe you, but just take what I said into consideration okay? I don't want to see you getting hurt by anyone out there."

Douglas nodded. The couple walked alongside of the basketball court, admiring all the memories they had from the building.

"Hey, remember our basketball team?"

Douglas laughed. "How could I not? We were *horrible*. I still remember that one year I played point guard and screwed up the whole season..."

"Three seconds left, a fast break on the move, down by one and you drop the ball in their key." She cut him off. "You looked like quite the idiot, didn't you Shawn?"

He shared the mutual tease towards himself and shrugged it off with a smile. "I was 14, Steph. Let it go already. Besides, basketball never really was my thing."

"And that's why you're a professional wrestler." Stephanie finished his sentence with a grin.

"Exactly. But this time...

I'm not dropping the ball."

Fade to black.