- Joined
- Apr 16, 2016
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- Age
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The scene opens to the sight of a very dull looking alleyway in an unknown city. Idle noises of cars driving and rock music can be heard in the background. Among the hustle and bustle of the city, the Alleyway appears to be empty except for a large dumpster, a single tall lamp, and a silhouette of a man situated against the dumpster. As the camera approaches the man, it can be seen that he is smoking a cigarette, continually moving the nicotine filled roll to and from his mouth. After a moment, it appears obvious that the silhouette has finished with his wonderful lung constrictor, flicking it in the general vicinity of the large dumpster. Surprisingly, he has, in fact, become aware of the camera man's presence. He turns, and while he had not known about the camera, he looks far from surprised to see it. His face is still hidden, but that doesn't matter, as he begins speaking in a very calm manner.
"There are probably numerous questions swirling around in your head, just what my name is, and what I'm exactly doing in Precision...All of that will come in due time. What I'd much rather like to focus on, though, is what has begun to pollute the professional wrestling scene."
The man steps out of the shadows and ends up situated right under the large lamp that joins him in this alleyway. Complexion-wise, the man can be described as rough. He has a very rugged look to him, and there is pretty obvious scarring on his face; most notably a single long scar over his right eye. What little facial hair he has, it forms a thin, but complete stubble, covering his entire jaw.
"I look around, and I see far too many hand shakers and ass kissers. Guys who will sell their souls, just as a desperate cry for the world's approval. On the other hand, I've seen far too many asshats walking around, thinking that they're hot shit, and feeling the need to put down everybody that ever opposes them. Me? Well, I guess I'm a bit of a rare breed. You see, when it comes right down to it, I don't kiss asses, I kick em. I don't put people down with words. No, I put them down using these."
He raises both of his fists to just beneath his chin. They, while taped up, also have some pretty noticeable scarring on his knuckles. He continues to speak, staring at the camera menacingly.
"You can question who I am, but instead of doing that, ask yourself who the real good and bad guys are."
And with that, the camera fades to black, ending the footage.
-End Segment-
"There are probably numerous questions swirling around in your head, just what my name is, and what I'm exactly doing in Precision...All of that will come in due time. What I'd much rather like to focus on, though, is what has begun to pollute the professional wrestling scene."
The man steps out of the shadows and ends up situated right under the large lamp that joins him in this alleyway. Complexion-wise, the man can be described as rough. He has a very rugged look to him, and there is pretty obvious scarring on his face; most notably a single long scar over his right eye. What little facial hair he has, it forms a thin, but complete stubble, covering his entire jaw.
"I look around, and I see far too many hand shakers and ass kissers. Guys who will sell their souls, just as a desperate cry for the world's approval. On the other hand, I've seen far too many asshats walking around, thinking that they're hot shit, and feeling the need to put down everybody that ever opposes them. Me? Well, I guess I'm a bit of a rare breed. You see, when it comes right down to it, I don't kiss asses, I kick em. I don't put people down with words. No, I put them down using these."
He raises both of his fists to just beneath his chin. They, while taped up, also have some pretty noticeable scarring on his knuckles. He continues to speak, staring at the camera menacingly.
"You can question who I am, but instead of doing that, ask yourself who the real good and bad guys are."
And with that, the camera fades to black, ending the footage.
-End Segment-
