Luck o' da Irish

[brick2278]

(The shot opens with Adrenaline standing on the balcony of his Boston apartment. The lights show in the distance and cars honk in the raining weather. He's dressed in loose fitting jeans and a NFW hoodie. He takes a sip of a glass and turns to face the camera, walking inside to get out of the rain. Off camera, a fire place crackles slightly.)

Adrenaline: Well Tempesta, looks like you musta had a 4 leaf clover, a lucky star, a horse shoe, and a rabbits foot with you last week, because you got out of that match by a thin thread. But I'm man enough to give it to you..good match.

(Adrenaline chuckles as he takes another sip of his drink. He puts the glass down on a coffee table and sits in a white leather chair, fire place to his side.)

Adrenaline: Damn good match. But it wasn't good enough. Not good enough for either of us. See there needs to be a winner. This isn't some shoot fighting tournament where a draw counts as a win and it's all good as long as it's not a lost. I want a win. I want to show you, no give you a bit more of what you got a taste of last week on St. Patricks day. You a tough guy eh? You like to take the beatings and keep getting up? That's fine with me, because I can give the beatings all night long. And next time we get into the ring together you can damn near bet that it will be my hand getting raised in victory.

(Adrenaline leans foward and picks up the glass off the table and finishes the rest of the drink. He grimices slightly and then stares into the glass as the lone ice cube in it.)

Adrenaline: Tempesta, however you wanna do it, I'm there and we'll finish it. Next time no time limits, no dq, we go until only I can stand. You see you threw everything you had last week and I barely reached into the tricks. I nearly beat you going to the sky, using moves I don't even normally use. So what are you going to do when I get serious?

(Adrenaline chuckles, shaking the glass, absent mindly as the ice cube inside it flies around the edge of the glass.)

Adrenaline: You were big guy last week, but I took a lot out of you. I took some of that bravdo off. And next time it will be a bit more. And then your talent will be useless. Then you're small brain will be useless. Then you'll be out luck, and then-

(Adrenaline stands up and dumps the cube into his hand and throws it into the burning fire place.)

Adrenaline: then just like that ice cube, the only thing you'll have left for survival...is a prayer.

(Adrenaline walks out of the shot as the camera pans to the crackling fireplace before it slowly fades to black.)

 

[Joeltocks]

(Fade in: It's a long shot. We are looking at the loading dock of the warehouse. The colors are green and black, as though this is a night vision shot of the dock. DIETER is seated on a rolling equipment case, with a case of beer bottles at one elbow, a basket of baseballs at the other, and is wearing his Adidas workout clothes. TEMPESTA is standing about twelve feet from him, stripped to the waist, and wearing loose fitting shorts. The camera pans back and forth between them as they have the following exchange.)

DIETER: Adrenaline tinks he has your number. (Whips a half empty beer at Tempesta overhand)

TEMPESTA: (Knocks it out of the air with his foot, deflecting it into the dumpster) He thinks a lot of things. Again, Come on.

DIETER: Vie didn't you break him ven you had ze chanze? (Fastballs a baseball at Tempesta's head)

TEMPESTA: (Parries the ball) Because The Boss still thinks he could be useful. (and another) Plus I had to know what he was made of. (Kicks a beer out of the air) He did well.

DIETER: Better zan you thought? (Palms two balls casually)

TEMPESTA: No, but I thought for sure he'd quit. (dodges both incoming balls with a leap)

DIETER: Ze spirit is hard to crush. (Shatters a bottle on the equipment case, then whips it underhand at Tempesta)

TEMPESTA: (Sidesteps the shattered remains as they fly past) Not always. (grins evilly) He's here for real though. That's good.

DIETER: Good for what? You having to train harder zo you can beat him?

TEMPESTA: I want to beat him though, so I can start on that new belt.

DIETER: (Shrugs, grabs two bottles) Ve make more money ven you vin.

TEMPESTA: We make more money when I get a feud going. This isn't shootfighting, it's wrestling.
Marketing beats your win loss record any day. (Pirouettes away from the wildly flung bottles.)

DIETER: Eets all about ze Benjamins.

TEMPESTA: (Laughing) I suppose so. (Parries a series of incoming balls)

DIETER: Zo how are ve going to beat him?

TEMPESTA: (Icily) Not WE, ME. Slowly. No springy rings this time, no time limits either.

DIETER: You planning to cripple him? Like you did with Maak in Thailand?

TEMPESTA: (Smiles at the thought) No. No one is paying me to end his career. Yet. But I think I'll leave him with a reminder of our next meeting all the same.

DIETER: A memento?

TEMPESTA: Precisely. C'mon you big b******, less talkie, more throwee!