Post by JaMarcus Haze on Nov 5, 2011 23:31:24 GMT -4
The camera follows low behind a white limo with HAZE1 written on the license plate.
It pulls to a stop as a couple of body guards approach the back door. They open it and Haze steps out with his gold teeth shining. Haze doesn't seem to notice the cameras following behind him as he strolls slowly down the mean streets of Brooklyn looking to see his old neighbors. With the next Asylum just in Long Island, he had to pay a visit to his old neighborhood - his first in home in America. JaMarcus wears a crisp white suit and a solid white bandana, his dreads swaying with each step he takes. The attire is in stark contract to his dirty, trash-filled surroundings. Haze finally reaches an old, run-down apartment complex. He then looks at the numbers until he reaches number 577.
A dozen people are gathered around the house talking to each other, drinking beers, and smoking weed. Haze walks over to them and says "Aye y'all, I'm back!" All of the talking stops as the attention is set on Haze. There seems to be no positive attention towards him - all he sees are people rolling their eyes and whispering negative comments about him. JaMarcus pauses, waiting for a response. The awkward silence continues for many seconds, before he erupts, "Y'all hood rats ain't got nothing to say huh? Y'all just want to sit here and hate on the rich man who actually became successful, while you guys were drowning in filth!" The crowd is silent as Haze begins to speak again, "Y'all are worthless! I'm beginning to question why I came back to this hell hole. I should have stayed in my bed and watched the news. But no, when I watch the news all I see is another waste of life be brought to an end, or another little kid being hit by a stray in a drive by. Sorry I didn't want to live that life."
Everyone looks at Haze angrily, not wanting to hear the truth until a brave old man speaks up, "Look young blood, most of us don't live here by choice. Matter fact most of us are working our asses off trying to get out of here. The last thing we need is some young hot shot runnin' his mouth about us." Haze takes a puff of his cigar and laughs at the old man. "Look at this old hag trying to talk sense into me." Haze walks up to the old man and suddenly gets angry. He gets in his face and grabs him by the shirt collar. "Look old man, I don't need to hear anything, from anybody." Haze releases the old man with a violent shove. "It's a shame you guys don't want to give me the greetings and welcome back I needed. Hell you should have a f***ing parade set up for me!" Haze digs in his pocket, pulls out a 1 dollar bill and puts it in the mans hand. "Here, go and buy a f***ing tooth brush! Don't spend it on booze either, ya hear!?" One young man in the crowd had heard enough. He charges, only to be met from a stiffarm by one of Haze's towering body guards. Haze shakes his head and turns, walking out of the apartment complex. The group stares daggers as he struts back to his limo. A body guard opens the door for him. JaMarcus takes one last look back before getting in. "They don't know how to welcome a king."
10 Minutes later...
in the back of the Limo[/b][/i]
"TURN ON THE F***ING CAMERA!" exclaims Haze, as the shaky view now steadies, focusing in tight on his face. "Look you f***ing rats - you better listen up! The real man is speaking. I done my research on ya, Brown. I done my homework. You want to trash me for bein' from the ghetto, but your family couldn't even afford to stay in one place. Sound like a gypsy to me. I don't know how I feel about fighting a fu**ing limey. But I do know one thing: I'ma do ya a favor. I'ma give ya some free dental work on them British teeth, courtesy of Doctah Haze. It'll be a real improvement, mon!" Haze takes a deep puff of his cigar, trying to relax, before speaking again, "I'll give ya a makeover, too. After tomorrow night, you gon' be wearing the colors of your flag: 'pasty white skin, deep blue bruises and crimson blood.' Wear 'em with pride." Haze stares into the camera with a serious look, as if Johnny Brown was right on the other side. "I hope you put up a fight in this match Johnny, because after tomorrow night, your life will never be the same. You're just another sorry British failure who didn't make it. Maybe after you finally give up on wrestling, you can sit and have a tea party with all of your wrestling contracts, mate."
It pulls to a stop as a couple of body guards approach the back door. They open it and Haze steps out with his gold teeth shining. Haze doesn't seem to notice the cameras following behind him as he strolls slowly down the mean streets of Brooklyn looking to see his old neighbors. With the next Asylum just in Long Island, he had to pay a visit to his old neighborhood - his first in home in America. JaMarcus wears a crisp white suit and a solid white bandana, his dreads swaying with each step he takes. The attire is in stark contract to his dirty, trash-filled surroundings. Haze finally reaches an old, run-down apartment complex. He then looks at the numbers until he reaches number 577.
A dozen people are gathered around the house talking to each other, drinking beers, and smoking weed. Haze walks over to them and says "Aye y'all, I'm back!" All of the talking stops as the attention is set on Haze. There seems to be no positive attention towards him - all he sees are people rolling their eyes and whispering negative comments about him. JaMarcus pauses, waiting for a response. The awkward silence continues for many seconds, before he erupts, "Y'all hood rats ain't got nothing to say huh? Y'all just want to sit here and hate on the rich man who actually became successful, while you guys were drowning in filth!" The crowd is silent as Haze begins to speak again, "Y'all are worthless! I'm beginning to question why I came back to this hell hole. I should have stayed in my bed and watched the news. But no, when I watch the news all I see is another waste of life be brought to an end, or another little kid being hit by a stray in a drive by. Sorry I didn't want to live that life."
Everyone looks at Haze angrily, not wanting to hear the truth until a brave old man speaks up, "Look young blood, most of us don't live here by choice. Matter fact most of us are working our asses off trying to get out of here. The last thing we need is some young hot shot runnin' his mouth about us." Haze takes a puff of his cigar and laughs at the old man. "Look at this old hag trying to talk sense into me." Haze walks up to the old man and suddenly gets angry. He gets in his face and grabs him by the shirt collar. "Look old man, I don't need to hear anything, from anybody." Haze releases the old man with a violent shove. "It's a shame you guys don't want to give me the greetings and welcome back I needed. Hell you should have a f***ing parade set up for me!" Haze digs in his pocket, pulls out a 1 dollar bill and puts it in the mans hand. "Here, go and buy a f***ing tooth brush! Don't spend it on booze either, ya hear!?" One young man in the crowd had heard enough. He charges, only to be met from a stiffarm by one of Haze's towering body guards. Haze shakes his head and turns, walking out of the apartment complex. The group stares daggers as he struts back to his limo. A body guard opens the door for him. JaMarcus takes one last look back before getting in. "They don't know how to welcome a king."
10 Minutes later...
in the back of the Limo[/b][/i]
"TURN ON THE F***ING CAMERA!" exclaims Haze, as the shaky view now steadies, focusing in tight on his face. "Look you f***ing rats - you better listen up! The real man is speaking. I done my research on ya, Brown. I done my homework. You want to trash me for bein' from the ghetto, but your family couldn't even afford to stay in one place. Sound like a gypsy to me. I don't know how I feel about fighting a fu**ing limey. But I do know one thing: I'ma do ya a favor. I'ma give ya some free dental work on them British teeth, courtesy of Doctah Haze. It'll be a real improvement, mon!" Haze takes a deep puff of his cigar, trying to relax, before speaking again, "I'll give ya a makeover, too. After tomorrow night, you gon' be wearing the colors of your flag: 'pasty white skin, deep blue bruises and crimson blood.' Wear 'em with pride." Haze stares into the camera with a serious look, as if Johnny Brown was right on the other side. "I hope you put up a fight in this match Johnny, because after tomorrow night, your life will never be the same. You're just another sorry British failure who didn't make it. Maybe after you finally give up on wrestling, you can sit and have a tea party with all of your wrestling contracts, mate."
