Post by Jacob Wade on May 2, 2008 9:27:01 GMT -5
Sidewalk Talks
++++++++++++++++Start RolePlay+++++++++++++++++
Scene: The scene opens up with Ninja sitting around on a sidewalk, listening to a guitar being played a little ways from him. He is seen with a black hooded shirt on, with the hood covering the top of his head. His shorts, and white shoes complete the outfit. He sits with his knees up, leaning against a wall. People pass him left and right through the cold, but dry night. Ninja takes a look around, taking in the experience.
Ninja: You know, I have never been here before. It is actually pretty nice here. The stereotypical American needs to come here for a day or two and realize that it is not all so bad after all. There food is so good as well. I have yet to drink the water though. I noticed how cheap it is to get wasted here as well. I can think of a few people that are probably doing that right now. No matter how big of a match is ahead of them, they are probably just drinking their life away. Pathetic.
Scene: Ninja smirks, and gives a bit of a chuckle as another person passes him on the streets. The guitar still plays.
Ninja: The count down is on. Two days away from Ninja and Elliot. One on one, inside the squared circle. We didn’t get our cage match like we asked, but that is just fine in my book. I know I can outwrestle you anyway. I don’t need weapons, more people, or a cage to keep me in the ring. I have all I need walking into this thing. I have the mind, the fists, and the ability to see what kind of tactics you could try throwing at me. Its all the same with you anyway. Way to be predictable. You start to clean up a mess, and leave the rest for your boys to clean up. It is a broken record with you. The same thing over and over. I am quite sick of it. Then you took it a step further. A step that made me realize that you are just cold hearted, and sick in the head. When you attacked a defenseless woman. One who was guilty by association. I mean, what the hell is your problem anyway? Did your uncle hug you too much or what? A simple beer in the face cant make you click like this, so I want to know? Did I accidentally bump shoulders with you sometime back then? Is it because you didn’t get any Kool-Aid on Halloween, what, what the hell is your problem?
I am pretty sure that this isn’t even about helping Tyler anymore. This isn’t about Suicide Club and Saints, this is about Jacob Heafy and Elliot Burress. The guards are down and the fists are starting to fly. Only one man will walk out of this thing a winner, and what will it change? If I walk out the winner, where will you turn? Will you attack some more people close to me? Send your pack of goons to my house to commit something stupid? I don’t know what your plans are, and I don’t think its going to matter. Hopefully once I win this match, you will leave it at that. You accept the fact that I am better than you, and leave. But, on the flipside, what will happen if you win? May I just lose my mind and attack the ones close to you? Oh, sure, you don’t have anyone close to you. You are too cool for friends. The only true friend you will claim to is Tyler and maybe a few others in the Suicide Club. But I am sure with a little listening in on conversations, asking around, I can find someone close to you. I could take that person out, and the cycle will repeat itself, only this time you will have the broken heart and a conscious that eats you away. Maybe I can send a pack of goons out for you. I know I am not seen with many people, but I am sure I can easily find one or two that would be more than happy to smack you around a bit.
Didn’t you think for a second that with all you have done, all the crap you have put me through for the past weeks would catch up and spark a fire? I am sure you were looking to break my spirit. It has backfired on you I am afraid. I am going into this thing with my blood boiling. I have said I am afraid of what I may do, but whatever is done, I am sure it will be worth it, and justified. Send your pack of goons, send your groupie, don’t send anyone, I don’t care. I will find a way around everything you throw at me to get my hands on you.
So smoke your cigarettes, train some groupies, call me names, keep on cussing, whatever makes you feel cool. You only have two more days to do that. When those two days are up, and you are looking at me face to face, hopefully reality will hit you, maybe you could just call me reality.
Scene: A Mexican looking gentleman walks in front of the camera playing guitar. As he wails on the guitar, the scene starts to fade to black.
++++++++++++++++End RolePlay+++++++++++++++++++
++++++++++++++++Start RolePlay+++++++++++++++++
Scene: The scene opens up with Ninja sitting around on a sidewalk, listening to a guitar being played a little ways from him. He is seen with a black hooded shirt on, with the hood covering the top of his head. His shorts, and white shoes complete the outfit. He sits with his knees up, leaning against a wall. People pass him left and right through the cold, but dry night. Ninja takes a look around, taking in the experience.
Ninja: You know, I have never been here before. It is actually pretty nice here. The stereotypical American needs to come here for a day or two and realize that it is not all so bad after all. There food is so good as well. I have yet to drink the water though. I noticed how cheap it is to get wasted here as well. I can think of a few people that are probably doing that right now. No matter how big of a match is ahead of them, they are probably just drinking their life away. Pathetic.
Scene: Ninja smirks, and gives a bit of a chuckle as another person passes him on the streets. The guitar still plays.
Ninja: The count down is on. Two days away from Ninja and Elliot. One on one, inside the squared circle. We didn’t get our cage match like we asked, but that is just fine in my book. I know I can outwrestle you anyway. I don’t need weapons, more people, or a cage to keep me in the ring. I have all I need walking into this thing. I have the mind, the fists, and the ability to see what kind of tactics you could try throwing at me. Its all the same with you anyway. Way to be predictable. You start to clean up a mess, and leave the rest for your boys to clean up. It is a broken record with you. The same thing over and over. I am quite sick of it. Then you took it a step further. A step that made me realize that you are just cold hearted, and sick in the head. When you attacked a defenseless woman. One who was guilty by association. I mean, what the hell is your problem anyway? Did your uncle hug you too much or what? A simple beer in the face cant make you click like this, so I want to know? Did I accidentally bump shoulders with you sometime back then? Is it because you didn’t get any Kool-Aid on Halloween, what, what the hell is your problem?
I am pretty sure that this isn’t even about helping Tyler anymore. This isn’t about Suicide Club and Saints, this is about Jacob Heafy and Elliot Burress. The guards are down and the fists are starting to fly. Only one man will walk out of this thing a winner, and what will it change? If I walk out the winner, where will you turn? Will you attack some more people close to me? Send your pack of goons to my house to commit something stupid? I don’t know what your plans are, and I don’t think its going to matter. Hopefully once I win this match, you will leave it at that. You accept the fact that I am better than you, and leave. But, on the flipside, what will happen if you win? May I just lose my mind and attack the ones close to you? Oh, sure, you don’t have anyone close to you. You are too cool for friends. The only true friend you will claim to is Tyler and maybe a few others in the Suicide Club. But I am sure with a little listening in on conversations, asking around, I can find someone close to you. I could take that person out, and the cycle will repeat itself, only this time you will have the broken heart and a conscious that eats you away. Maybe I can send a pack of goons out for you. I know I am not seen with many people, but I am sure I can easily find one or two that would be more than happy to smack you around a bit.
Didn’t you think for a second that with all you have done, all the crap you have put me through for the past weeks would catch up and spark a fire? I am sure you were looking to break my spirit. It has backfired on you I am afraid. I am going into this thing with my blood boiling. I have said I am afraid of what I may do, but whatever is done, I am sure it will be worth it, and justified. Send your pack of goons, send your groupie, don’t send anyone, I don’t care. I will find a way around everything you throw at me to get my hands on you.
So smoke your cigarettes, train some groupies, call me names, keep on cussing, whatever makes you feel cool. You only have two more days to do that. When those two days are up, and you are looking at me face to face, hopefully reality will hit you, maybe you could just call me reality.
Scene: A Mexican looking gentleman walks in front of the camera playing guitar. As he wails on the guitar, the scene starts to fade to black.
++++++++++++++++End RolePlay+++++++++++++++++++