Post by Thunder on Mar 14, 2007 20:42:11 GMT -5
Thunder woke up with a horrible headache. He really shouldn’t have been surprised. A hangover was to be expected after all of the partying he had done after WFWF Ascension. He should have known (and he probably did) that all of the drinking and partying would catch up with him, but that wasn’t what he cared about. After winning his first WFWF championship in over two years, Thunder wanted a celebration. And now he is paying the price in full.
But Thunder at least found some comfort that he was at home in his own bed. He had made the decision before Ascension began to leave right after his match and to party in his home of New York. That was the only thing he that he could be happy about while his head was thumping: at least he’s at home. Thunder’s bedroom would give one clear message to anyone that would happen to walk in: the man that lives here is a man of wealth and taste. The king-sized bed with satin sheets appears to look more like a throne fit for a king than a bed at all. The red carpeting looks and feels more comfortable than most furniture that normal, average people sit on for hours at a time every day. Much like the dressers, end tables, and other wood furniture in the room, the extremely large headboard that is above Thunder’s head has a large stack of books on top of it. Some Thunder has already read, others he will soon enough. This shows that Thunder is not just a man of wealth and taste, but an intelligent man as well.
Unfortunately for Thunder, something else is keeping him awake besides the splitting headache. He continues to hear a sound, several people talking is what he guesses, but Thunder can’t seem to figure out what it is. But then the proverbial light bulb goes off in Thunder’s head. Someone is watching TV downstairs. But who in their right mind would do that? Once Thunder regains some of his bearings, he decides to find out.
Thunder, dressed in black striped pajamas, throws back the sheets and gingerly gets out of bed. Despite the slow movement, he is actually quite angry that someone, anyone, could have the nerve to disrupt his sleep. He opens the bedroom door, and then moves into the hall.
A very intricately carved hand railing now stands before Thunder. He clutches on with both hands and looks down. He is too fatigued to walk down the stairs to find the heinous culprit, so instead he yells down.
But Thunder at least found some comfort that he was at home in his own bed. He had made the decision before Ascension began to leave right after his match and to party in his home of New York. That was the only thing he that he could be happy about while his head was thumping: at least he’s at home. Thunder’s bedroom would give one clear message to anyone that would happen to walk in: the man that lives here is a man of wealth and taste. The king-sized bed with satin sheets appears to look more like a throne fit for a king than a bed at all. The red carpeting looks and feels more comfortable than most furniture that normal, average people sit on for hours at a time every day. Much like the dressers, end tables, and other wood furniture in the room, the extremely large headboard that is above Thunder’s head has a large stack of books on top of it. Some Thunder has already read, others he will soon enough. This shows that Thunder is not just a man of wealth and taste, but an intelligent man as well.
Unfortunately for Thunder, something else is keeping him awake besides the splitting headache. He continues to hear a sound, several people talking is what he guesses, but Thunder can’t seem to figure out what it is. But then the proverbial light bulb goes off in Thunder’s head. Someone is watching TV downstairs. But who in their right mind would do that? Once Thunder regains some of his bearings, he decides to find out.
Thunder, dressed in black striped pajamas, throws back the sheets and gingerly gets out of bed. Despite the slow movement, he is actually quite angry that someone, anyone, could have the nerve to disrupt his sleep. He opens the bedroom door, and then moves into the hall.
A very intricately carved hand railing now stands before Thunder. He clutches on with both hands and looks down. He is too fatigued to walk down the stairs to find the heinous culprit, so instead he yells down.
Thunder: I don’t know who the hell has the TV on down there, but they better shut it off and get down here now.
Thunder stands in the same spot and hears the sound of the TV stop. Instead of hearing the sound of someone walking up the steps, there is only silence. This angers Thunder even more. Now he shouts again.
Thunder: Maybe you didn’t understand me. I said whoever had the TV on better get up here right now and I meant it.
After Thunder finishes speaking, a meek, scared voice of a woman is heard.
Woman: I’ll be right there.
Upon hearing that, Thunder slowly heads back into the bedroom and lays back down on the bed. He is prepared to give whoever disrupted his sleep a piece of his mind, but the headache will prevent him from doing it standing up. Within a few seconds, the sounds of someone walking up the stairs can be heard. The maid then peers into the bedroom. She cautiously enters, very afraid of what may happen to her.
Thunder: So, it was you?
Maid: I’m terribly sorry---
Thunder: We’ll get to excuses later. Right now I just want a yes or no answer.
Maid: Yes.
Thunder: Okay, now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s hear your wonderful reasoning.
Maid: Well, I’d been working very hard for several hours. I just thought that I would relax and watch a little—
Thunder: Stop right there. I’m pretty sure you are aware that the last thing I need with what was an inevitable hangover is someone blasting the TV. Am I right?
Maid: Yes.
Thunder: Did you ever consider that?
Maid: I guess not.
Thunder: Well from now on, you better always put my needs above your petty little desires. The next time you want to watch TV, stop and consider who it could disrupt. Got it?
Maid: Yes, sir.
Thunder: You’re lucky I’m so kind. One more screw up and you’re out of here.
Maid: I completely understand.
Thunder: Yeah, I bet. Get out of here right now.
The maid begins to walk out of the room, but stops when the phone on Thunder’s beside table begins to ring.
Thunder: Answer that.
She obeys her orders and answers the phone after walking over to it.
Maid: Hello? Yes, I’ll tell him. (to Thunder) Thunder, someone from the WFWF offices is calling to inform you of your next match. Would you like to talk to him?
Thunder: Hello no. Just ask who I’m facing this week.
Maid: on phone He doesn’t really feel like talking right now. Who is he facing this week? (pause) Okay, I’ll tell him. Thank you.
The maid hangs up the phone.
Maid: You and Kurt will be facing Yukio Blaze and Miguel Sanchez in a non-title match.
Thunder: What a joke. If I wasn’t feeling like crap right now I’d probably be laughing. So we get to face the to guys that couldn’t get it done against Wayne, the other member of the Revolution. I hope by the time we defend our titles it’s against some people that are actually competition. I don’t even care to count at this point how many times I’ve beaten Sanchez in various federations. While I may not have come into contact with Yukio very often, he’s already shown enough times that he can’t handle fellow Revolution member Wayne McGurk. These two guys will never hold WFWF gold because people like the Revolution will always be one step ahead in the ring. Now get out.
The maid, clearly degraded, finally exits the bedroom and walks down the stairs. Now alone, Thunder heads back to sleep…[/center]
