t r e
New member
- Joined
- Dec 15, 2006
- Messages
- 234
- Points
- 0
- Age
- 44
- Location
- saratoga springs, new york
- Website
- www.paulbrisbin.com
Backstage following Aggression. Ice Tre holds an ice pack to the back of his head, hunched over on a bench. He groans softly to himself, his face twisted in pain. Suddenly, he spots the entering camera crew and his entire demeanor changes. Throwing the ice pack at the wall, he explodes onto his feet - the face of a warrior.
ICE TRE: That's RIGHT, son! WHAT.
A soldier.
ICE TRE: What I say, B? What I say? Spit word to the WORLD, yo! Told the whole damn EMPIRE that Ice Tre was goin' to the SECOND ROUND! I guaranteed victory! And what'd I do? I victoried, all right. I victorized for the STREETZ! Str8 SOLDIER!
Preach.
ICE TRE: "Mine Fo'real" you were, Benji-Benj. TOLD you this wasn't no ordinarical wrestling match. TOLD you that Mr.Unpredictable was in the house. You had to KNOW that Ice Tre would do whatever it took to make Adam Benjamin look like a FOOL out there. Everyone heard me. The world BELIEVED. The only one that DIDN'T know was YOU, *****.
Tre touches a hand to his bottom lip, then checks his fingers for blood. There is none. He smirks.
ICE TRE: Yeah, you fought hard. No doubt. But I fought HARDER, son. You wanted it, fo' sho. But I wanted it MORE. You brought your tea n' crumpets ... I brought the STREETS. By any means necessary, B. Yeah ... you whine and cry about losin' like the PUNK you be, and to shut you up the new bosses give you a shot at ... what was it? The Intergalactical Championship?
Tre stifles a laugh.
ICE TRE: Sheeeeee-iiiiit. Have at it, Benji-Benj. Ice Tre deals with strictly the BIG belts. The REAL gold.
Flashes his gold-plated seventy-five dollar watch, lips puffed out confidently.
ICE TRE: I roll deep and make it RAIN on them hoes; Ice Tre, All Day!
Picking up his duffel bag with a muffled grunt, he slings it over his shoulder - smirk still pasted across his reddened face.
ICE TRE: As for my OTHER piece of bid'niss ... Sean Stevenz ... Triple X. You been trash talkin' me since 'Verse Two. Basically BEGGIN' me to execute a repeat performance. AXE'in me to come down and BEAT YOU DOWN like I did tonight.
Tre smoothly pulled his trademark bulky glasses from his bag and slipped them on -- jabbing himself in the eye at first.
ICE TRE: You beat the bearded-lady tonight and made yo' way further in MY K'ang of the Cage tournament ... well guess what, X? I don't know who's got who next round, but let me say THIS, son.
Stepping up to the camera, Tre attempts his "hardest" look.
ICE TRE: No matter what ... I got YOU, G.
We gon' FADEOUT, sucka.
ICE TRE: That's RIGHT, son! WHAT.
A soldier.
ICE TRE: What I say, B? What I say? Spit word to the WORLD, yo! Told the whole damn EMPIRE that Ice Tre was goin' to the SECOND ROUND! I guaranteed victory! And what'd I do? I victoried, all right. I victorized for the STREETZ! Str8 SOLDIER!
Preach.
ICE TRE: "Mine Fo'real" you were, Benji-Benj. TOLD you this wasn't no ordinarical wrestling match. TOLD you that Mr.Unpredictable was in the house. You had to KNOW that Ice Tre would do whatever it took to make Adam Benjamin look like a FOOL out there. Everyone heard me. The world BELIEVED. The only one that DIDN'T know was YOU, *****.
Tre touches a hand to his bottom lip, then checks his fingers for blood. There is none. He smirks.
ICE TRE: Yeah, you fought hard. No doubt. But I fought HARDER, son. You wanted it, fo' sho. But I wanted it MORE. You brought your tea n' crumpets ... I brought the STREETS. By any means necessary, B. Yeah ... you whine and cry about losin' like the PUNK you be, and to shut you up the new bosses give you a shot at ... what was it? The Intergalactical Championship?
Tre stifles a laugh.
ICE TRE: Sheeeeee-iiiiit. Have at it, Benji-Benj. Ice Tre deals with strictly the BIG belts. The REAL gold.
Flashes his gold-plated seventy-five dollar watch, lips puffed out confidently.
ICE TRE: I roll deep and make it RAIN on them hoes; Ice Tre, All Day!
Picking up his duffel bag with a muffled grunt, he slings it over his shoulder - smirk still pasted across his reddened face.
ICE TRE: As for my OTHER piece of bid'niss ... Sean Stevenz ... Triple X. You been trash talkin' me since 'Verse Two. Basically BEGGIN' me to execute a repeat performance. AXE'in me to come down and BEAT YOU DOWN like I did tonight.
Tre smoothly pulled his trademark bulky glasses from his bag and slipped them on -- jabbing himself in the eye at first.
ICE TRE: You beat the bearded-lady tonight and made yo' way further in MY K'ang of the Cage tournament ... well guess what, X? I don't know who's got who next round, but let me say THIS, son.
Stepping up to the camera, Tre attempts his "hardest" look.
ICE TRE: No matter what ... I got YOU, G.
We gon' FADEOUT, sucka.