Post by Storm on Jul 28, 2010 9:41:29 GMT -5
Through dim lighting, we see Storm sitting on a bed in what appears to be a poorly furnished, run-of-the-mill motel room. Though the blinds are drawn shut and the room is illuminated only by a single lamp on a nightstand next to the bed, it’s apparent that Storm isn’t in prime form at the moment. Leaning forward over the edge of the bed and staring blearily through bloodshot eyes at the wall, his haggard expression, unshaven face and unusually tousled hair are clear indicators the usually perfectly put together man is not having one of his better weeks.
”Yeah…no, I understand what you’re saying,” Storm says unenthusiastically into the cell phone he’s holding to his right ear as he pushes himself up off the bed. He runs his free hand through his hair and then rubs his temple, trying futilely to massage out the head ache. Still on the phone, he begins to pace back and forth, his bare feet slapping against the cheap and musty carpet of the motel room.
”No, nothing’s wrong…just tired as all hell.” Storm continues his conversation with whoever is on the other side of the phone, dropping his left hand from his temple to the tail end of the white undershirt he’s garbed in as he arches his back and stretches, letting out a soft groan as he does so. The motion causes his shirt to creep up a bit, and he absent mindedly tugs it down over the waist of his black gym shorts as he straightens himself out.
”Why am I tired? What kind of question is that? Because I haven’t slept well in days,” he replies as he walks over toward the wall and leans up against it, resting his forehead on his left arm. He slumps a bit, his entire body visibly relaxing as he lets out a weak chuckle.
”No, I know what you meant. I mean, I don’t know….I’ve just had a lot on my mind.
Storm turns around, listening to the response from the other side of the phone line as he now slumps his back against the wall. Then, deciding that’s not comfortable, he lazily walks over to an ill-maintained arm chair in a corner of the room and plops down on the torn-up cushion of it, sinking completely into it.
”No, no…stop right there,” he says somewhat agitatedly but too worn out to muster any sort of strength in his voice.
”I’m fine. Just…a lot on my mind…” He trails off as his eyelids droop, closing his eyes off from the outside world.
“What’s on my mind?” he asks sarcastically and sleepily as he continues to stare at the back of his eyelids. ”I think you know what…no, not just Return of the Kingdom. More like what the show could mean for me depending on if I succeed or fail.
A moment of silence falls over the room as Storm slumps even further into the chair, twisting his gargantuan body as he leans up against the arm and seems to be dozing off. As whoever is on the other side of the phone conversation yammers in his ears, however, his eyes open back up and he looks off into the distance, his gaze seemingly lost in a corner of the room where the two walls intersect with the ceiling.
”Look, I know I can win. I’m very confident in my abilities. I just also know what’s on the line, and if I don’t win both the Battle Royale and the gauntlet for the Valiant title I know all too well what will happen: just like every other promotion I’ve been in no matter how dominant I am I’ll get lost in the shuffle and fade into obscurity.
Storm rises up from the chair and groggily walks over to the bed and plops down on it before leaning back and laying down with his legs still dangling over the edge.
”No, I didn’t really sleep at all last night, and yeah, you’re probably right: I should take a nap," he says as he glances over at the bedside clock that reads “10:04 AM.” ”And nice hotel? Nah, I didn’t let Dan put me up in one – figured it’d be better to get back to my roots like when I exploded in PWF before he was paying for everything…yeah, I need to find an apartment here anyway since Kingdom of Pride is all local…yeah, yeah, I’m gonna close my eyes.”
Storm snakes his legs up onto the bed and reaches over and switches the lamps off, already closing his eyes as he does so. Before he hangs up the phone and places it by the clock on the nightstand, he says goodbye.
”Thanks, Becca.
---------------------------------
I CAME TO PLAY!
Storm’s eyes open as he bolts up in the motel bed, glancing sleepily over at the clock that now reads “4:15 PM.” He rubs the gunk out of his eyes in bewilderment as he realizes how long he had slept as he phone continues to ring.
I came to play…there’s a price to play…might as well get down on your knees and pray…
Smacking his lips as he continues to wake up and eyeing the phone with a glare of discontent, he reaches a meaty hand over and grabs it, bringing it to his ear as he lays back down in bed.
”Hello? I was asleep, what do you want, Dan? he asks as the skin on his forehead furrows as he listens to whatever Stanton is going on about. ”I don’t care if it’s four in the afternoon, I needed…wait, what do you mean you’re right outside my door?
Storm listens with eyes closed for a few seconds longer and then lets out a curse as he thumbs the phone off and sits up, muttering to himself. Still not quite awake, he swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands up, walking toward the door as he pockets the phone. He slips into the flip flops that were lying in front of the door and then reaches for the knob, bracing himself for the summer sun he’s about to be confronted with on the other side of the doorway. As he pushes it open and his eyes squint nearly shut, he’s confronted with something far worse…because right outside in the motel parking lot is a crowd of about 20 people, now looking past the megaphone wielding DBS and right at the hardly dressed Storm.
”AND HERE YOU HAVE HIM FOLKS, THE BIGGEST STAR IN PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING AND YOUR NEXT KINGDOM OF PRIDE VALIANT CHAMPION!” DBS screams into the megaphone, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the megaphone amplifies his voice to begin with. ”LOOK AT HIM NOW AND TAKE YOUR SNAPSHOTS, THIS IS THE LAST TIME YOU’LL SEE HIM WITH OUT A CHAMPIONSHIP AROUND HIS WAIST!
Storm winces, not sure what to make of the situation. Still, the telltale reddening of his cheeks is a sure indication he’s not happy as his brow furrows and his eyes narrow.
”STORM. TELL THE PEOPLE WHAT… DBS continues to yell as he swings the megaphone around toward Storm, deafening his client and causing Storm to step back as the sound assaults his still groggy senses. Suddenly awake, Storm shoots his right hand up and bats the megaphone away from Stanton’s mouth and with enough force to knock it clean out of his hand. As the crowd looks on, Stanton looks at Storm incredulously and leans in toward him.
”What are you doing, hoss? I’m here trying to get everyone hyped for your big wins on Sunday and you’re acting like some troll in a cave. This is big business son, and with this kind of promotion just think of the Niel…”
”Think of nothing!” Storm yells, cutting his friend off and causing the onlookers to shrink back. ”I don’t have time for this, and right now is not a good time for anything like this anyway,” Storm says as he grabs Stanton from around his collar and pulls him right against his face. “Really, Dan? You came to my motel room, unannounced with a low class excuse for the paparazzi to wake me up and put me on display when I’m trying to prepare for a chance at the Valiant title? Are you fucking retarded!?” Storm screams at his friend as Stanton shrinks back, glancing back at the crowd somewhat embarrassed.
”Ok, ok…nothing to see here folks, he’ll be available at the event after his big win for autographs, Stanton says to the crowd as he waves them off. Then, with the onlookers dispersing, Stanton turns back to Storm and offers and apologetic wince. ”Storm…big man…look, I’m your manager, alright? I’m just doin’ my job and getting your name out there and hyping the big wins coming on Sunday. You’ve been too busy laying low and mopin’ to do it for yourself, ya hear?”
Storm shakes his head and half-turns to grasp the knob the motel door. Yanking it open, he begins to step back into the room.
”Alright, fine, I’ll consult ya next time. Well, next-next time. We got a press conference scheduled for tomorrow mornin’ at the ol’ venue, so don’t go back to sleep cause you gotta be up bright and early to make it there by nine!
Storm shakes his head in disbelief and gives Stanton a cold stare as he closes the door on him, leaving Stanton to turn around and face the remnants of the crowd that stuck around to watch the exchange.
”And I’m his best friend, just imagine how he’ll treat his opponents. Storm, everybody!”
”Yeah…no, I understand what you’re saying,” Storm says unenthusiastically into the cell phone he’s holding to his right ear as he pushes himself up off the bed. He runs his free hand through his hair and then rubs his temple, trying futilely to massage out the head ache. Still on the phone, he begins to pace back and forth, his bare feet slapping against the cheap and musty carpet of the motel room.
”No, nothing’s wrong…just tired as all hell.” Storm continues his conversation with whoever is on the other side of the phone, dropping his left hand from his temple to the tail end of the white undershirt he’s garbed in as he arches his back and stretches, letting out a soft groan as he does so. The motion causes his shirt to creep up a bit, and he absent mindedly tugs it down over the waist of his black gym shorts as he straightens himself out.
”Why am I tired? What kind of question is that? Because I haven’t slept well in days,” he replies as he walks over toward the wall and leans up against it, resting his forehead on his left arm. He slumps a bit, his entire body visibly relaxing as he lets out a weak chuckle.
”No, I know what you meant. I mean, I don’t know….I’ve just had a lot on my mind.
Storm turns around, listening to the response from the other side of the phone line as he now slumps his back against the wall. Then, deciding that’s not comfortable, he lazily walks over to an ill-maintained arm chair in a corner of the room and plops down on the torn-up cushion of it, sinking completely into it.
”No, no…stop right there,” he says somewhat agitatedly but too worn out to muster any sort of strength in his voice.
”I’m fine. Just…a lot on my mind…” He trails off as his eyelids droop, closing his eyes off from the outside world.
“What’s on my mind?” he asks sarcastically and sleepily as he continues to stare at the back of his eyelids. ”I think you know what…no, not just Return of the Kingdom. More like what the show could mean for me depending on if I succeed or fail.
A moment of silence falls over the room as Storm slumps even further into the chair, twisting his gargantuan body as he leans up against the arm and seems to be dozing off. As whoever is on the other side of the phone conversation yammers in his ears, however, his eyes open back up and he looks off into the distance, his gaze seemingly lost in a corner of the room where the two walls intersect with the ceiling.
”Look, I know I can win. I’m very confident in my abilities. I just also know what’s on the line, and if I don’t win both the Battle Royale and the gauntlet for the Valiant title I know all too well what will happen: just like every other promotion I’ve been in no matter how dominant I am I’ll get lost in the shuffle and fade into obscurity.
Storm rises up from the chair and groggily walks over to the bed and plops down on it before leaning back and laying down with his legs still dangling over the edge.
”No, I didn’t really sleep at all last night, and yeah, you’re probably right: I should take a nap," he says as he glances over at the bedside clock that reads “10:04 AM.” ”And nice hotel? Nah, I didn’t let Dan put me up in one – figured it’d be better to get back to my roots like when I exploded in PWF before he was paying for everything…yeah, I need to find an apartment here anyway since Kingdom of Pride is all local…yeah, yeah, I’m gonna close my eyes.”
Storm snakes his legs up onto the bed and reaches over and switches the lamps off, already closing his eyes as he does so. Before he hangs up the phone and places it by the clock on the nightstand, he says goodbye.
”Thanks, Becca.
---------------------------------
I CAME TO PLAY!
Storm’s eyes open as he bolts up in the motel bed, glancing sleepily over at the clock that now reads “4:15 PM.” He rubs the gunk out of his eyes in bewilderment as he realizes how long he had slept as he phone continues to ring.
I came to play…there’s a price to play…might as well get down on your knees and pray…
Smacking his lips as he continues to wake up and eyeing the phone with a glare of discontent, he reaches a meaty hand over and grabs it, bringing it to his ear as he lays back down in bed.
”Hello? I was asleep, what do you want, Dan? he asks as the skin on his forehead furrows as he listens to whatever Stanton is going on about. ”I don’t care if it’s four in the afternoon, I needed…wait, what do you mean you’re right outside my door?
Storm listens with eyes closed for a few seconds longer and then lets out a curse as he thumbs the phone off and sits up, muttering to himself. Still not quite awake, he swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands up, walking toward the door as he pockets the phone. He slips into the flip flops that were lying in front of the door and then reaches for the knob, bracing himself for the summer sun he’s about to be confronted with on the other side of the doorway. As he pushes it open and his eyes squint nearly shut, he’s confronted with something far worse…because right outside in the motel parking lot is a crowd of about 20 people, now looking past the megaphone wielding DBS and right at the hardly dressed Storm.
”AND HERE YOU HAVE HIM FOLKS, THE BIGGEST STAR IN PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING AND YOUR NEXT KINGDOM OF PRIDE VALIANT CHAMPION!” DBS screams into the megaphone, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the megaphone amplifies his voice to begin with. ”LOOK AT HIM NOW AND TAKE YOUR SNAPSHOTS, THIS IS THE LAST TIME YOU’LL SEE HIM WITH OUT A CHAMPIONSHIP AROUND HIS WAIST!
Storm winces, not sure what to make of the situation. Still, the telltale reddening of his cheeks is a sure indication he’s not happy as his brow furrows and his eyes narrow.
”STORM. TELL THE PEOPLE WHAT… DBS continues to yell as he swings the megaphone around toward Storm, deafening his client and causing Storm to step back as the sound assaults his still groggy senses. Suddenly awake, Storm shoots his right hand up and bats the megaphone away from Stanton’s mouth and with enough force to knock it clean out of his hand. As the crowd looks on, Stanton looks at Storm incredulously and leans in toward him.
”What are you doing, hoss? I’m here trying to get everyone hyped for your big wins on Sunday and you’re acting like some troll in a cave. This is big business son, and with this kind of promotion just think of the Niel…”
”Think of nothing!” Storm yells, cutting his friend off and causing the onlookers to shrink back. ”I don’t have time for this, and right now is not a good time for anything like this anyway,” Storm says as he grabs Stanton from around his collar and pulls him right against his face. “Really, Dan? You came to my motel room, unannounced with a low class excuse for the paparazzi to wake me up and put me on display when I’m trying to prepare for a chance at the Valiant title? Are you fucking retarded!?” Storm screams at his friend as Stanton shrinks back, glancing back at the crowd somewhat embarrassed.
”Ok, ok…nothing to see here folks, he’ll be available at the event after his big win for autographs, Stanton says to the crowd as he waves them off. Then, with the onlookers dispersing, Stanton turns back to Storm and offers and apologetic wince. ”Storm…big man…look, I’m your manager, alright? I’m just doin’ my job and getting your name out there and hyping the big wins coming on Sunday. You’ve been too busy laying low and mopin’ to do it for yourself, ya hear?”
Storm shakes his head and half-turns to grasp the knob the motel door. Yanking it open, he begins to step back into the room.
”Alright, fine, I’ll consult ya next time. Well, next-next time. We got a press conference scheduled for tomorrow mornin’ at the ol’ venue, so don’t go back to sleep cause you gotta be up bright and early to make it there by nine!
Storm shakes his head in disbelief and gives Stanton a cold stare as he closes the door on him, leaving Stanton to turn around and face the remnants of the crowd that stuck around to watch the exchange.
”And I’m his best friend, just imagine how he’ll treat his opponents. Storm, everybody!”