Post by Deleted on Jun 21, 2016 2:23:21 GMT
A door swings open and collides with the brick wall perpendicular to it
“Where is Vance?” It’s Coach Smith, an older man who is weathered in the face. He lifts his wrist towards his face and glances down at his watch, “He’s twenty minutes late. I didn’t lose my job for this clown to flake ou….”
Coach’s head tilts to the side and he smiles a bit, he sees light flickering from behind blinds drawn on a door with a big glass window inside of it. The letters across the glass spell out ‘FILM ROOM’
“Well, I’ll be damned. That sonofabitch has impressed me” Coach Smith walks towards the door confidently.
Opening the door Coach sees a still shot of Lara Chambers on the pull down projector, and unfortunately he turns to see Van with his hands inside of his gym shorts and his eyes fixated on the screen. Well, they were
“WHAT THE FUCK COACH!?!?!” Van shrieks and tries to stand to his feet but quickly loses his balance and falls, “CAN YOU GET THE FUCK OUT, PLEASE?!”
Coach Smith leans his head to the side, “What the fuck Van?! Can’t you take something serious for once in your life?! That’s your fucking opponent and you’re in here jacking your dick?”
“I SAID GET OUUUTTT” shrieking – Van points to the door and buries his face in the carpet.
Leaving – Coach slams the door behind him, “This is what I put my career on the line for. A selfish pervert who..”
“I’M NOT A PERVERRRRT” Van’s high pitch shriek could break glass.
Coach Smith gives an ‘ok’ to the camera with his thumb and index finger, “If you’re not in the fucking weightroom in fifteen minutes I’m done with this. Fifteen fucking minutes, Van”
The scene fades as Van peaks through the blinds on the Film Room door and Coach Smith leaves for the locker room
_
After obviously having just completed a workout, Van’s muscles glisten in the fluorescent light of the locker room. He pulls the waist of his shorts down, “Does my ‘V’ pop?”
The camera nods and Van gives a thumb up
“Sweet, look here’s the plan. I’m going to walk towards the camera real slick, right? Maybe wink and a gun?”
The camera shakes back and forth, disagreeing
“Fine, just a wink. I’m going to wink at the camera and smile – make sure she can see my face”
Coach Smith walks into the camera shot, “The FUCK you are! Are you trying to fuck this chick or tell her how you’re going to win?”
Van shrugs sheepishly, “Both?”
Coach Smith turns his head and punches a locker, “Fuck This I’m out”
Van looks into the camera, “Okay, Plan B then. Look Lara, as much as I really appreciate this whole equal rights thing – I REAAALY would rather take you on a spin or two and we can forget this whole wrestling thing. But, Coach Smith is probably on his way to hang himself in his office so I have to do the right thing"
“See, you got me pegged as a fucking idiot – and I’m not exactly the sharpest crayo – wait. Edit that out. I’m not a fucking Einstein, not one bit. But what I do well is hurt people while being the finest of tuned athletes and I know how to do my scouting reports. I can break down every physical move you do into milliseconds mentally and figure out a way to counter it. That’s how I roll. Pain, Punishment, Zero regard for my body or yours – Engage recognized that ability and that’s why I’m here. I’m not a dime a dozen pretty boys, but thanks for recognizing that. I do work hard.”
Van takes a second to admire his abs and even flexes his pectoral muscles
“So you can bring the dominatrix act and the tough girl with daddy issues shit and try to bury some elbow deep inside my ass, which admittedly I’m not that into. Because I don’t underestimate opponents, I allow those who see my lack of experience in the ring do that – fucking amateur hour. Let the wrestling nerds tell you that you’ll run through me. When Gameday comes I tap into a deep dark rage and you stand in the way of me becoming a fucking superstar. In this industry there are no rules that will revoke my ability to reach my full potential, and I’m sure as hell not ready to let you put a damper on my Engage Wrestling home opener.”
Van turns to the locker and headbutts it viciously, “WHAT TIME IS IT?! GAME TIME!!!”
