Post by The Soul Of Philly on Jun 11, 2012 1:04:44 GMT -4
Prologue
I’m not gonna get mad. I’m not gonna get mad. I’m…not…gonna…get…mad…
I’m not gonna get mad. I’m not gonna get mad. I’m…not…gonna…get…mad…
We see a empty, red wall in a quiet room. The quiet lasts about as long as a virgin on his first time when we see a chair get thrown into the wall. The chair’s legs stick in the wall and we see a pair of massive hands grab the back of the chair and rips it, and several pieces of the wall, out and throw it back into the wall. We zoom out and see that the hand belong to “The Soul of Philly” TJ, who is still in his ring gear. He is still backstage of Meltdown in Greensboro as we hear the roar of the crowd in the background of the scene. He grabs his stuff and heads to the door of the locker room. He takes a look back at the chair, which, amazingly, isn’t broken like the wall it was just in. TJ drops his stuff and walks towards the chair and wipes it off and sits down on it. He hunches over himself and puts his face in his hands. We can hear the sniffling that would accompany tears.
The.Soul.of.Philly TJ I fucked up. I blew it. I’m sorry J. I blew it.
TJ continues to cry in the chair as someone comes in to check what the noise and see TJ, they check on TJ, thinking something is wrong he pushes them away and gets up and grabs the chair and throws it repeatedly into the walls of the locker room. The person stays down in fear as TJ, holding the chair, that now is missing the back, by the legs, slams the chair into the ground, shattering the chair into pieces. He looks at the man on the ground with his eyes red with tears. TJ, breathing rapidly, grabs his stuff and leaves the room.
The.Soul.of.Philly TJ I fucked up. I blew it. I’m sorry J. I blew it.
TJ continues to cry in the chair as someone comes in to check what the noise and see TJ, they check on TJ, thinking something is wrong he pushes them away and gets up and grabs the chair and throws it repeatedly into the walls of the locker room. The person stays down in fear as TJ, holding the chair, that now is missing the back, by the legs, slams the chair into the ground, shattering the chair into pieces. He looks at the man on the ground with his eyes red with tears. TJ, breathing rapidly, grabs his stuff and leaves the room.
Prologue
Ok, I got mad. A lot madder than I thought I’d even get. I paid for the room to be fixed and apologized to that guy, felt bad, but at least none of those pieces of chair hit him. As it turns out, I didn’t blow it entirely. I got a second chance, and I got to make the most of it. If I don’t, I hope the arena has some steel walls.
Ok, I got mad. A lot madder than I thought I’d even get. I paid for the room to be fixed and apologized to that guy, felt bad, but at least none of those pieces of chair hit him. As it turns out, I didn’t blow it entirely. I got a second chance, and I got to make the most of it. If I don’t, I hope the arena has some steel walls.
We open the scene in the Philly’s Gym at night time. The moonlight shines in through the windows above the walls, bouncing off weights and the ring in the middle of the gym. The lights are out minus one light coming from the office that overlooks the gym, the office that belongs to the owner, “The Soul of Philly” TJ. We make our way into the office where we see TJ seated at the desk wearing a blank, black t-shirt and jeans. He is going over some paper work when he hears a knock at the door and looks up to see the cameraman.
The.Soul.of.Philly TJ Ah, good, you’re here. Here take a seat.
We see a hand at the side of the frame wave off TJ’s offer. TJ shrugs.
The.Soul.of.Philly TJ Heh, be that way. Be onnnnnneee second.
TJ goes back to his paper work real quick and puts them away in his desk, locking the drawer. He puts his hands on the desk and looks at the camera.
The.Soul.of.Philly TJ Soooo, I guess this is the part where I talk about my match then, right? I could talk about how I’m the best, ya know. Talk about how I’m gonna win this match and Test for the Best. Or, instead of all that braggadocious talk, I could talk about what this second chance means to me. That would be good, since it means I get a new partner that won’t screw up my chance at getting a chance at the title of my choice as a Meltdown Megastar. How it means so much to me that I might be able to grant my late brother’s final request. I could say all that and more “Win One For the Gipper” type stuff, but to be honest, that’s not me, and I think I realized that recently. Never was me, maybe never will be. I took things to seriously before, like Raj said, I make things mean so much more than what they actually mean to me. I need to get back to the Old TJ. The one that kicked your ass while he made you feel like shit, the TJ that was slick with his jokes and even slicker with his pick-up lines. The TJ that could punk you out with just saying that he was gonna beat you. I’m tired of this sappy TJ. Its time to get back to the way I was.
He chuckles a bit.
The.Soul.of.Philly TJ And where else to start than the man that is the reason I find myself in the position I am in today, Stefan Raab. Mr. Killerplauze, whatever that means to us. You say it means Killerchest, which makes no sense at all. I just think you made it up because it sounds nice. I wouldn’t know though, I decided not to take German in high school, every word sounded angry, chose Spanish cause I had a thing for Latinas.
TJ winks at the camera and smiles.
The.Soul.of.Philly TJ But I digress. Raab, you fucked up last week. There is no other way to put it. You. Fucked. Up. You made the decision to not tag me in sooner, decided you could take Goodburn and then when he tagged in Yarmouth you came running to me like a baby, hoping that I would save you, but you got caught and paid the price. And what happened as soon as I came in the match? I cleared house. I was about to make Yarmouth look like a punk when you decided to get in my face. What did I do? I saved you from getting taken out by Goodburn, then I had Goodburn by the throat, begging for mercy, and you gave it to him by stopping me.
TJ stands up, the camera keeping him in the center of the frame by zooming out so TJ’s massive frame stays in focus.
The.Soul.of.Philly TJ And now, because of that, you’re going to get beat down. You see, you may be content with losing match after match after match and drinking your sorrows away with shot after shot and beer after beer, continuing your pathetic delusions that you belong, but you don’t belong here. I don’t say that because you cost me my match, cost me a chance to enter the Test for the Best tournament and fight for a title shot. It’s not because you burned an American flag, something you, a piece of shit German, have no idea what that means to this country. At any time that we’re down, we fly that flag high. We stop sulking and looking at our feet and look at the flag and think, we’re going to do this.
He stops and looks at a picture frame on his desk. He grabs it and brings it closer and looks down at it.
The.Soul.of.Philly TJ We’re gonna do this. Jacob, we’re going to do this.
[/i]The.Soul.of.Philly TJ Ah, good, you’re here. Here take a seat.
We see a hand at the side of the frame wave off TJ’s offer. TJ shrugs.
The.Soul.of.Philly TJ Heh, be that way. Be onnnnnneee second.
TJ goes back to his paper work real quick and puts them away in his desk, locking the drawer. He puts his hands on the desk and looks at the camera.
The.Soul.of.Philly TJ Soooo, I guess this is the part where I talk about my match then, right? I could talk about how I’m the best, ya know. Talk about how I’m gonna win this match and Test for the Best. Or, instead of all that braggadocious talk, I could talk about what this second chance means to me. That would be good, since it means I get a new partner that won’t screw up my chance at getting a chance at the title of my choice as a Meltdown Megastar. How it means so much to me that I might be able to grant my late brother’s final request. I could say all that and more “Win One For the Gipper” type stuff, but to be honest, that’s not me, and I think I realized that recently. Never was me, maybe never will be. I took things to seriously before, like Raj said, I make things mean so much more than what they actually mean to me. I need to get back to the Old TJ. The one that kicked your ass while he made you feel like shit, the TJ that was slick with his jokes and even slicker with his pick-up lines. The TJ that could punk you out with just saying that he was gonna beat you. I’m tired of this sappy TJ. Its time to get back to the way I was.
He chuckles a bit.
The.Soul.of.Philly TJ And where else to start than the man that is the reason I find myself in the position I am in today, Stefan Raab. Mr. Killerplauze, whatever that means to us. You say it means Killerchest, which makes no sense at all. I just think you made it up because it sounds nice. I wouldn’t know though, I decided not to take German in high school, every word sounded angry, chose Spanish cause I had a thing for Latinas.
TJ winks at the camera and smiles.
The.Soul.of.Philly TJ But I digress. Raab, you fucked up last week. There is no other way to put it. You. Fucked. Up. You made the decision to not tag me in sooner, decided you could take Goodburn and then when he tagged in Yarmouth you came running to me like a baby, hoping that I would save you, but you got caught and paid the price. And what happened as soon as I came in the match? I cleared house. I was about to make Yarmouth look like a punk when you decided to get in my face. What did I do? I saved you from getting taken out by Goodburn, then I had Goodburn by the throat, begging for mercy, and you gave it to him by stopping me.
TJ stands up, the camera keeping him in the center of the frame by zooming out so TJ’s massive frame stays in focus.
The.Soul.of.Philly TJ And now, because of that, you’re going to get beat down. You see, you may be content with losing match after match after match and drinking your sorrows away with shot after shot and beer after beer, continuing your pathetic delusions that you belong, but you don’t belong here. I don’t say that because you cost me my match, cost me a chance to enter the Test for the Best tournament and fight for a title shot. It’s not because you burned an American flag, something you, a piece of shit German, have no idea what that means to this country. At any time that we’re down, we fly that flag high. We stop sulking and looking at our feet and look at the flag and think, we’re going to do this.
He stops and looks at a picture frame on his desk. He grabs it and brings it closer and looks down at it.
The.Soul.of.Philly TJ We’re gonna do this. Jacob, we’re going to do this.
He smiles as he puts the picture back on the desk and turns back to the camera.
The.Soul.of.Philly TJ Ok, so maybe the Sappy TJ is still around a bit, but where was I? Ah, it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re clearly apathetic about public safety or city property with your display a couple of weeks ago. No, you don’t belong here because you simply are out of the league. Let me use this in a term you might now, I’m Messi and you’re some scrub reserve for Toronto FC. All that said, you have some redeeming qualities, but still if I were you, I’d let your partner do all the heavy work and just ride his coattails to your first win in a long time. Speaking of your partner, Jair Hopkins.
TJ moves in front of his desk and leans on it, putting his hands on the desk.
The.Soul.of.Philly TJ J-Hop. From da BRONX! Yea, J-Hop and me, we got a lot in common, both don’t come from the greatest of backgrounds, both are extremely tight with our trainers, but we differ in one key part of this business, I, unlike him, understand that not every man is created equally in that ring. I don’t care if you trained for Shadow, Shadow isn’t six feet eleven inches of determined, hungry, Philadelphian. See, Hopper, I’m gonna call you that, see Hopper, you understand how it is to be hungry, how it feels to want something so bad to do everything you can, sometimes illegally, to get it. I’ve been in this business since I got outta high school, I’ve done, damn near everything I can think of, I’ve held titles, made enemies, made a friend or two, done almost everything, so you ask me why I’m here then, I’ve never held the big belt, I’ve been the number one guy, but never been the gold standard, if you will. See, Shadow, he’s done all that he liked to do, I haven’t. And as previously stated, he’s not as big as me, or as pissed off thanks to your jackass of a partner. And that doesn’t bode well for either of youse and your health. Once I get in that match, whether it’s the start of it or when Gabriel decides to tag me in, I’m going to destroy the two of you.
He gets off the desk and stand with his arms folded.
The.Soul.of.Philly TJ So consider me a locomotive come Meltdown. Get the fuck outta my way or get ran the fuck over. And the same goes for you Gabby, ya loud mouth Brit. See, I didn’t forget about you, no, no, I saved you for last. You see,
TJ walks over to the glass wall that overlooks the gym, the moon light still doing its best to illuminate the gym
The.Soul.of.Philly TJ I see a lot of you in this fellow I knew, he was from Harlem and he decided that he wanted to play hero and beat our opponent by himself, ended up costing us the match. He too was a rather big fellow, like you. He was a loud mouth, just like you. And he thought that he was better than me, just like you do. The fact is, the two of you, just are not better than me. And I may not be able to prove it this week, but come the battle royal, I’ll prove that I’m better than you, Yarmouth, Gooburn, Rivera, and Stryker. Then I’ll prove that I’m better than anybody that Overdrive and Asylum have to offer.
TJ walks back from the glass wall and towards his desk
The.Soul.of.Philly TJ Say whatever you want, say that you’re the best thing that has ever graced Action Packed Wrestling, say that you’re God’s gift to the world, it won’t make a damn difference if you Jair Hopkins, Stefan Raab, or Gabriel Anslem, because not any of you are greatness in its truest form. The three of you do not stand in the ring as nightmares in their physical forms. And the three of you cannot, in any way, shape, or form, can call yourself…
He inhales deeply and leans back before letting out a howl of...
The.Soul.of.Philly TJ “THE SOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUULLLLLLLLLL OF PHILLY!”
He smiles and sits down at his desk.
The.Soul.of.Philly TJ Or a Test for the Best Qualifier.
TJ motions for the cameraman to leave the room as the scene fades to black. [/center]