Post by sleepy on Sept 6, 2017 6:02:01 GMT -5
The sound of heavy breaths can be heard as a group of young men huddle together. The lad with messy blonde hair breathing louder than the rest, his nerves getting the better of him.
“Ochitsuku Shinpei!”
(Calm down, Shinpei!)
He raises his head, revealing himself as the youngest son of Danny Young. He turns his head slightly, his father looking at him proudly before he nods and the group of young men put their hands in.
“Ichi!”
“Ni!”
“San!”
“BLACKOUT!”
The sound of electricity powering down whirrs all around the room before the lighting cuts out. Danny takes a short walk, the sound of his steps very powerful. The clattering of feet against stairs can now be heard before we hear a very overpowering voice speaking in clear English.
“Shibuya what the f*ck is going on?!”
The roar of a crowd, almost as deafening as the sound during a WFWF show blasts as the lighting begins to flicker, revealing the young men that were huddled together before now stood on stage with instruments.
“We are BLACKOUT! Move it!”
As the music begins to play, the crowd leave their feet almost in unison, throwing themselves around wildly as they lose themselves to the grooves. Danny Young can’t help but nod his head along as the elder of his children appears beside him.
Kenta Young: “He’s surprisingly good, right?”
Danny Young: “Yeah, he’s amazing. I wish I was as confident as you guys are when I was your age.”
His son laughs, patting him on the shoulder.
Kenta Rivers: “We wouldn’t be like this if it wasn’t for you. Every single day, you told us we could be whatever we wanted. Both of us wanted to be like you… I mean, except the whole English accent thing.”
Danny laughs to himself this time before turning to his son with an almost death like glare.
Danny Young: “F*ck off you little sh*t.”
Kenta Young: “I’m being serious, Shin used to jump off of the couch and hit me with an elbow whenever I got back from school.”
Danny Young: “And you never retaliated..?”
Kenta Young: “Once or twice…”
Danny Young: “I’ll call your mother right now and find out.”
Kenta Young: “Okay… maybe one time I tried to hit him with the Timebomb…”
Danny Young: “You mean you tried to knee your brother in the face, right?”
Kenta looks a little embarrassed at the fact he’s naming a move his father hasn’t done in years, but Danny can’t help smiling at the new found knowledge his children look up to him.
Danny Young: “Say, why are we standing over by the side of the stage?”
Kenta Young: “I don’t know… I guess it’s because we’re important?”
Danny Young: “I don’t think you’ve been to a live show before, have you?”
Kenta Young: “I’ve been to see Shin a few times, why?”
Danny looks at his son before grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him on to the stage and running while pulling him along, throwing himself and his son off of the stage and in to the crowd as the youngest member of the Young family smiles widely on stage.
///
BANG.
“Five more!”
BANG
BANG
BANG
BANG
BANG
Why am I doing this to myself? It’s something i’ve asked myself for a long time now. It’s a question that disappears whenever true opportunity arises. A lot of people have worked very hard and that’s something I can’t help but agree with… but I don’t like to agree with it. Have those people worked harder than me? I’ll never know the answer but I like to think they haven’t. That’s why when the opportunity to face ‘The Champ’ came up Heading West, I jumped on it. I made the most of my opportunities. Yeah… maybe I didn’t show everyone how hard I was working. Maybe I didn’t try to show my ‘real life’ off as much as everyone else. I’m a private person by nature. In Japan, when you’re dealing with hardships in your life, you don’t go in to work and talk about them. You don’t present them to people. You deal with them. That could be the reason so many people choose to take their lives in the land of the rising sun…
F*ck talking about death. The reason I have the platform to show what i’m capable of is because i’m still standing. I’m still breathing. I’m still alive. I don’t have to parade my family around. I don’t have to talk about my life. I don’t have to talk about the things i’ve done outside of the ring and the places i’ve been. Take a good hard look at how things have been for me since I started here in WFWF. Four matches… and i’ve only been pinned or submitted once. Match of the night against Joe Bishop. Match of the night against Sean Casey. Hell, I already know i’m going to get match of the night with David Brennan. I don’t need to talk like everyone else does. I walk the walk every single time I step inbetween those ropes. I am unlike any ‘beast’, ‘monster’ or ‘demon’ that WFWF has ever seen. I am the king without a crown when it comes to wrestling… but since WFWF likes talkers, let’s talk.
David Brennan is the champion, it’s an undeniable fact. David Brennan dethroned Joe Bishop to become champion, it’s an undeniable fact. Joe Bishop faced off against me in his last match prior to facing David Brennan, it’s an undeniable fact. Joe Bishop barely managed to beat me… I won’t say it’s an undeniable fact but the evidence is there. Would it be far fetched for me to say that I softened Joe Bishop up for David Brennan? I mean… if you look at the things I did to Joe Bishop it’s pretty clear he wouldn’t have been going in to face David Brennan at his best. I guess I could’ve also put him off mentally going in to face Dave. If he could barely beat a guy who hadn’t yet won a match at that point in WFWF, what chance would he have against Brennan? I’d like to think he underestimated me, and then when he realised I was a lot more than he took me for he lost his confidence a little. The same can’t be said for David Brennan.
He’s got all the confidence in the world after his victory. He’s a double… no, triple champion. He’s got all the marbles, got no clue what he’s coming in against and he’s got his attention somewhere else, that my friend, will be your downfall. I like you Dave, I like you a hell of a lot more than any other sorry f*cker i’ve come in to contact with here in WFWF. I’ll tell you right now though, get those thoughts of Michael Kyzer out of your head before you step in there with me. If you’re not coming in focused on me then maybe i’ll hit a move to chip away at your health for your next match just like I did with Joe Bishop… maybe i’ll get you in a position just like Sean Casey that you won’t be able to escape from. Hell, maybe I won’t stop this time.
“Danny you stupid c*nt. Wake the f*ck up. You’ve had your rest, back to work.”
BANG
BANG
BANG
BANG
BANG
///
“Happy Birthday young-un!”
Ryan Smalls wraps his arm around the head of Kenta Young, laughing loudly as he does. Kentas father also laughs as Kenta struggles to escape, taking Smalls as nothing more than a chubby man before this encounter.
Danny Young: “He’s strong, isn’t he?”
Kenta Young: “Yes, now get him off!”
Ryan lets go of his grasp as Kenta stumbles away, trying to fix his hair quickly as his playful attacker turns to the bar.
Danny Young: “You’re finally 18 now… any idea what your next move is going to be?”
Kenta Young: “I’ve got some work lined up modelling at some fashion show next week.”
Danny Young: “How much you getting?”
Kenta Young: “A few grand, why?”
Danny Young: “Heard that Smalls, the kid’s getting a few grand for a fashion show.”
Ryan Smalls turns around, looking as though he’s about to take the head of Kenta Rivers again but instead pats him on the shoulder.
Ryan Smalls: “F*cking hell! You were the ugliest little kid i’ve ever seen and now you’re getting money for being attractive!”
Kenta Young looks offended by the choice of words but Smalls winks, letting him know he was joking. Kenta seems to struggle to fit in the groove of the older style of conversation but he at least seems to be enjoying himself.
Danny Young: “Anything after that?”
Kenta Young: “I have a meeting with some rapper about modelling in his fashion show later this year… if that comes through then i’m going to be working on my own label.”
Danny Young: “Really? You want to be a fashion designer after all this time?”
Kenta Young: “What do you mean all this time?”
Danny Young: “Well… a few years back you would only wear your underwear and a t-shirt around the house and your school clothes whenever you were out of the house.”
Kenta Young: “And then this happened…”
He motions to his face, posing a little as Ryan and his father burst in to laughter, both men patting him on the shoulder.
Danny Young: “You’re a good kid, keep your head straight and don’t let yourself get distracted. There’s gonna be people out there trying to tear down everything you do because they don’t get it or they can’t do it themselves. Remember the position you’re in and remember the influence you have.”
Kenta nods, taking hold of the drink Ryan Smalls has outstretched to him.
Ryan Smalls: “Since i’m skint and I know I can outdrink you lot… last one to finish has to buy the next round.”
All three men begin to chug their drinks, laughter and conversations around them beginning to become less and less clear.
///
Words begin to appear, almost as if it were a typewriter. The coffee stained backdrop for the words only going to highlight the lack of effort shown by whoever’s put it together.
“Patient Analysis”
“Danny Young”
We cut to where we see Ryan Smalls dressed as a doctor, from a lab coat to a surgical mask and gloves. He would look the part if it wasn’t for the bbq sauce stains coating the shirt. He plonks himself down in to the chair with such a lack of grace that even Lanky Kong would be appalled. He wipes his mouth with his sleeve before beginning to talk.
Ryan Smalls: “Hello there Daniel.”
We cut to a shot of Danny Young bound by leather straps, his demeanour cool and collected similar to that of a cannibalistic serial killer.
Danny Young: “Hello Ryan.”
Ryan Smalls: “Please, it’s Dr. Smalls.”
Danny Young: “It’s Ryan.”
Ryan Smalls: “Whatever you say Daniel. Let’s have a chat.”
Danny Young: “Please, by all means, go ahead.”
Ryan Smalls: “So… you have a world championship match?”
Danny Young: “I don’t know if it’s for the title. The poster worded it in a way I struggled to understand. Perhaps the master of the Fireman’s Carry is to blame for it.”
Ryan Smalls: “I’m not so sure that’s the case, maybe you’re just slow in the head?”
Danny Young: “I suppose that could also be the case.”
Ryan Smalls: “Anyhow, you have a match with a mister… David Brennan, correct?”
Danny Young: “Correct.”
Ryan Smalls: “Have there been any changes? Is there any irregularity in your thought pattern? Perhaps your diet has-”
Danny Young: “Nope, nothing has changed. I guess i’m a touch more focused, spending more time with my family and what not but that’s because I have to isolate myself before going in to this. I can’t go in to this one underprepared. This one… it’s different. It’s strange really. I’ve never treated anyone seriously before now… maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. This could be the biggest helping hand i’ve had in my career.”
Ryan Smalls: “Is there any reason in particular why you’re taking this match more serious than the rest?”
Danny Young: “It’s David Brennan… the champ. I took on a champ before, yeah, but I don’t think much of him compared to Brennan. These flippy guys, yeah, sure, it looks cool. Is it that effective? Not at all. Bishop couldn’t beat me with his flips. Brennan talks with his fists. Oh, I like his music a little I guess. How does it go again…”
“There’s a house in Sin City
They call the Rising Sun,
And it’s been the ruin
Of many a poor boy,
And God, I know, i’m one.”
He sings happily to himself before Ryan Smalls shakes his head, reaching for the small camera and turning it off as the video fades away.
///
“In a world filled with evil…”
We cut to a shot of a man dressed like David Brennan, a poorly constructed mask of paper covering his face.
“One man holds the key to defeating it once and for all…”
We cut to a shot of Danny Young dressed in his finest miami vice inspired clothing, his hair slicked back heavily and what appears to be a wig stuffed in to the front of his shirt to simulate chest hair poking out the top of it.
“Danny Young is…”
He takes an incredible diving roll, coming across the hood of a car before dropping to one knee and poking over the hood of the car with a pistol.
“Danger Man”
He fires a shot and the screen fills with images of the two men fighting in a very comical fashion, flying back from every single punch thrown as explosions and laser beams shoot behind them before a neon pink font appears on screen.
“Ashes to Ashes…”
“David to dust.”
///
Is this thing on?
Clearing my throat, i’m prepared to make a few closing statements. I know the big brass at WFWF are going to see this, so I know i’ve got to be ‘impressive’. Psyche. I could give a f*ck about what they think. I do this for myself… I don’t do it for the fans, I don’t do it for the management. I do it for me. It’s time I got that across a little bit.
WFWF management… fans… fellow employees. A lot of people wonder why I go over the top with my fun little video shoots. Well, i’m here to present you all with the answer to that today. When we were all growing up, watching that TV set and seeing these incredible things on television… what did we all want? I won’t accept any lies because I know that every single person out there wanted to emulate what they saw on television. As a wrestler, I shouldn’t be pursuing these silly little vignettes. I shouldn’t be presenting myself in such a serious way, especially when nobody else on this roster tries to act ‘silly’. Well, in a world contaminated by people taking themselves too seriously, I stand up for those people who still have dreams in their mind of being involved in the action they saw as children.
Well, this is off to a rousing start.
In the WFWF, we have a lot of very serious competition. We have some of the finest athletes in the world but what we don’t have is any true individuality. Everyone’s the exact same essentially, they may not look the same, talk the same, walk the same or wrestle the same but they all have the exact same mindset. Their dreams flew out of the window and now they’re stuck in the mindset of ‘if i’m not serious all of the time, people might take me as a joke’. F*ck. Are you guys seriously worried about what other people think? Have you not grown out of that?
I cough, taking a quick sip of water to clear my throat. I want to make sure everyone out there is paying attention, especially you, David Brennan.
I’m sick of it. I’m sick of this notion that being serious is what matters. Hell, I haven’t been serious about a damn thing since I came here. I have my moments, but when I present myself to people there’s no lie in the way I go about things. I’m a lazy, arrogant and quite frankly self centred person and i’m proud of that. I’m also a dreamer. I don’t need to believe in the things people like David Brennan say. I don’t need to believe that Trace Demon is going to eat my face or something. I don’t believe in a revolution, formed by people who are still in the spotlight and aren't being pushed away. I don’t believe in the false words of Ante Whitner and Phillip Schneider, who, by the way, need to have some sort of gimmick attached to their match to get people to pay any attention to it. I don’t need to believe in any of that bullsh*t. All I do here, is dream. As ‘gay’ or as ‘stupid’ as that may sound, all i’ve done since the beginning was dream. I hold that dream near and dear to my heart and i’ll be damned if i’m going to let another guy that gave up on his dream long long ago and has to FORCE HIMSELF to carry on walk all over me. David, you wanted to talk about ‘real life’ at Pacific Rim? Here’s a little bit of ‘real life’, and that’s that you don’t have the f*cking balls to admit your heart isn’t in this anymore. Until you turn around and admit that you don’t want to do this anymore, I have no doubt in my mind that i’m doing the right thing. I’d rather dream and chase that dream… than become a believer with nothing left to believe in.
I think that got my point across.