Choices and Options

[brick2278]

(The camera opens and slowly adjusts to low level lighting as it pans down over a dish drainer, with dishes slowly drip drying. The water turns off as the camera pans over to Adrenaline sliding a pan into a small refridgerator. It's clear it isn't his kitchen, as he closes the door he glances up at the camera and looks momentarily shaken.)

Adrenaline: Damn...do you guys pick a time to go live. Well, nothing like dinner at mom's house to remind you about what really matters.

(Adrenaline sighs as he slides into a chair, with a small hole in the back of it, and the padding falling out. He absently mindly picks it as he starts to talk.)

Adrenaline: Of course tomorrow, it's back to the real deal. Training to get the job done. Getting ready for Tempesta who managed to pull out a twist of fate in the last match. Although this time you won't be saved by the bell.

(Adrenaline realizes he's picking at the chair and stops.)

Adrenaline: No matter how much me and my brother try to take care of moms, she refuses to move out of this place. It's where we were raised and she said no matter how much money we make, or how big of a house we got her, it wouldn't have the memories...

(Adrenaline sighs again and then looks into the camera, his charming smile filling his face.)

Adrenaline: It's that simple Tempesta. I'm not some thug. I'm not the rich kid playing pretend. I simply wrestle to prove to myself and everybody else that I am as good as I believe myself to be. I'm real. No filler. I don't need to hang out in underground warehouse with my S&M buddies nor do I *have* to prove my sexual prowless by cutting promos filled with strippers. What I choose to do maybe something totally different, but again it's a choice. And this week, I choose to pound your face into the pavement. Now you have some choices. You can wisely choose to remain holed up in whatever rat infested place you're hiding at this week or you can choose to open your mouth and spit out more words that I'll have to force feed you when you're holding your stomach, wondering if your that's your stomach or intestines hanging out of that gash on your side.

(Adrenaline stands up and pushes the chair into the table and grabs his keys off the table and faces the camera one last time.)

Adrenaline: This week is full of choices for you Tempesta..but for me, I have no options left but to win.

(Adrenaline walks out as the camera pans to a counter top clock that is ticking slowly before the shot fades to black.

 

[Joeltocks]

History

(We fade in on the Manhattan skyline at night. The twin beams of light from the WTC site glow a ghostly white in the darkness, the shafts dissipating into the clouds. PAN RIGHT and we see Tempesta in the foreground, standing on the dock in his warm up suit. Tempesta shakes his head, as he is clearly looking up at the lights, then turns his attention to the camera.)

Tempesta: You think you can get my sympathy by going running back to momma? Wrong. Talking about how you are out to prove yourself because you had nothing growing up? Wrong again.

Tempesta: I grew up here (Holds his arms wide, looks aound) and on docks like it, all around the world. Fighting for food, beer, women, whatever it was I wanted, whatever the guy running the game wanted to ante up. Since I was born, I've been fighting. I was premature and underweight. D*** doctors didn't give me a chance. But I fought, I struggled, and despite the uncaring nurses, and the doctors that labeled me "Not Expected to Live" here I am. H***, I didn't even have a name for the first four months I was in that hole. My mother left when I was five years old. FIVE. Been on my own ever since. So don't come to me with your sad sack story. It ain't nothing compared to what I got in my history.

Tempesta: You put up one hell of a fight on St. Patricks Day, and make no mistake, I underestimated you on that night. But that is a mistake that I won't make twice. Because this time, it's a Street Fight. You're on my turf then, tough guy. I'm going to hurt you, bad. That's what Manson is paying me to do. So do yourself a favor, get your Momma to gather all the photos that she has of your pretty little face, and get that hot shot lawyer brother of yours to contract a plastic surgeon, because when I'm done with you pretty boy, you're going to need it.
(Tempesta walks past the camera out of frame, leaving the shot on Manhattan and the lights.)