t r e
New member
- Joined
- Dec 15, 2006
- Messages
- 234
- Points
- 0
- Age
- 44
- Location
- saratoga springs, new york
- Website
- www.paulbrisbin.com
FADEIN: Whoomp, There He Is!
ICE TRE: Yeeeaaaaah, know'm'sayin'? Don't call it a comeback! Ice Tre STILL in the buildin'! STILL makin' it HOT!
Tre dramatically unzipped his crip-blue windbreaker and threw it to the ground in defiance. He wore no cap, just a lopsided white sweatband. Matching band on one wrist. No shirt. No definition. Standing before a sickly pea green wall, Tre stood under a hanging light, his 'juice-a-fix twinkling with his every movement.
ICE TRE: Russian Roulette one day behind us. Mem'ries still CRISP in the brain, know'm'sayin'? You KNOW that Ice Tre in EPW for the long haul, in it to win it. Representin' the West Coast, where it all started. What a NIGHT! There ain't no other town like Atlanta, Gee-Aay. Crowd knows how to party when EPW throws down. How 'bout our new World Champ? Way to go, Triple Dipple! You pulled it off! Against all odds, back against the wall -- you DID it, homie! You beat not just ONE Joey ... but TWO Joeys and a Lindsay! And you know somethin', Stevenz?
He snickered, grill glittering givingly.
ICE TRE: You're WELCOME. Hah. That's right, b_tch. I swerved all existence, G, when I ran down there and did the unthinkable; I HELPED YOU! You ... are SO welcome! But don't thank me. Don't. Not yet. Not today. You take today and EMBRACE it. ENJOY it. Live it knowing that I HANDED it to you. Knowing that Ice Tre made you a Champion again. You enjoy today, make it yours ... and tomorrow maybe you can come up with the PROPA way to show me your appreciations.
Tre grabbed his giant chains and brandished them towards the camera. Clearly of mediocre quality.
ICE TRE: I don't need no mo' bling! I'm straight GLEAMIN'!
Reaching into his windpants pocket, he pulls out a very modest roll of cash. Clearly the outer bill is of the $1 variety.
ICE TRE: I don't need no cream! Sh_t, son -- I make it RAIN.
He jams it back in his pocket, wide goofy grin on his slender goofy face.
ICE TRE: I already GOTST a tight whip -- go peep my Acura parked outside, son. Damn ... ain't NOTHIN' you got that I want, Sean Stevenz.
Camera zooms in on his unfortunate face.
ICE TRE: ... Except ...
FADEOUT, what.
ICE TRE: Yeeeaaaaah, know'm'sayin'? Don't call it a comeback! Ice Tre STILL in the buildin'! STILL makin' it HOT!
Tre dramatically unzipped his crip-blue windbreaker and threw it to the ground in defiance. He wore no cap, just a lopsided white sweatband. Matching band on one wrist. No shirt. No definition. Standing before a sickly pea green wall, Tre stood under a hanging light, his 'juice-a-fix twinkling with his every movement.
ICE TRE: Russian Roulette one day behind us. Mem'ries still CRISP in the brain, know'm'sayin'? You KNOW that Ice Tre in EPW for the long haul, in it to win it. Representin' the West Coast, where it all started. What a NIGHT! There ain't no other town like Atlanta, Gee-Aay. Crowd knows how to party when EPW throws down. How 'bout our new World Champ? Way to go, Triple Dipple! You pulled it off! Against all odds, back against the wall -- you DID it, homie! You beat not just ONE Joey ... but TWO Joeys and a Lindsay! And you know somethin', Stevenz?
He snickered, grill glittering givingly.
ICE TRE: You're WELCOME. Hah. That's right, b_tch. I swerved all existence, G, when I ran down there and did the unthinkable; I HELPED YOU! You ... are SO welcome! But don't thank me. Don't. Not yet. Not today. You take today and EMBRACE it. ENJOY it. Live it knowing that I HANDED it to you. Knowing that Ice Tre made you a Champion again. You enjoy today, make it yours ... and tomorrow maybe you can come up with the PROPA way to show me your appreciations.
Tre grabbed his giant chains and brandished them towards the camera. Clearly of mediocre quality.
ICE TRE: I don't need no mo' bling! I'm straight GLEAMIN'!
Reaching into his windpants pocket, he pulls out a very modest roll of cash. Clearly the outer bill is of the $1 variety.
ICE TRE: I don't need no cream! Sh_t, son -- I make it RAIN.
He jams it back in his pocket, wide goofy grin on his slender goofy face.
ICE TRE: I already GOTST a tight whip -- go peep my Acura parked outside, son. Damn ... ain't NOTHIN' you got that I want, Sean Stevenz.
Camera zooms in on his unfortunate face.
ICE TRE: ... Except ...
FADEOUT, what.