It's the Crown Heights Assembly gym, and the fighters have been coming in and out on this Tuesday afternoon. The SWIFT cameras are catching shots of big, bald, and black Tyrone Brand teeing off on a punching back. He's wearing baggy blue jeans, diamond earrings, a gold necklace and has gone shirtless. In the distance, “The Hebrew Hitman” Eli Scheinberg can be seen sitting on a chair with a television in front of him, and a small crowd of Assembly hopefuls sitting around him.
ELI SCHEINBERG: “Look at me beat this zombie mother fucker, guys. I thought it was a joke but the guy is a damn zombie. Look, kids, that's the living dead I'm beating right there! Spike piledriver right on the golden dreidel!”
Brand isn't paying attention, too focused on the punching bag, his thoughts lost in the sounds of the gym around him. Eli's gathering to watch his career highlights... of one NLW match and one SWIFT fight... is of no concern to him.
ELI SCHEINBERG: “Look at this fucking joke right here. Worthless shtick drek referee! Mishigas! All of it! Of course, they give it early to Marx because he's this big fucking star and they wanna push him through the roof here! I'll take him in the rematch. I'll break his shoulder like my name is Jimmy Luzzatto.”
MORDY ROSENBERG:Walking by the group. “Eli! Quit wasting everyone's time! Turn off that damn TV and get back to work, all of you! You're not breaking anybody's shoulders if you sit around on your ass! The rest of ya, you ain't getting on the team following Eli's example! Get back to work or get out!”
Mordy approaches Brand, who is getting more aggressive with his punching.
MORDY ROSENBERG: “Hey kid, it's ok to kick in MMA.”
Brand sends home a kick that rocks the bag. He turns to Mordy, smiles, then slips on his black hoodie and iPod.
MORDY ROSENBERG: “Where ya goin', all-star?”
TYRONE BRAND: “For a jog.”
MORDY ROSENBERG: “In just a hoodie? It's cold out there!”
TYRONE BRAND: “I'm hot. I'm so hot that I'm gonna light that sucka up at Retaliation 5, but I gotta cool down before I burn this joint to the ground. Be back in thirty, Mordy.”
Tyrone begins his jogging on his way out of the gym.
MORDY ROSENBERG:He watches Tyrone jog off, looking at him strangely. He turns back to the camera and breaks a small smile. “Hey, the kid's dedicated. Look out Heath Stone, this guy is dangerous! Strongest striker we have here at The Assembly! Be careful and good luck!”
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