Post by Press1269 on Jan 30, 2016 7:24:27 GMT
::What does it take to be a jackass? Do you need long ears, or a tail? A coating of grey fur, and a long snout? The ability to carry things up & down mountains. Nah...all you got to do is be named Chase Maxim. He's done a pretty good job of making it clear that he is indeed a Jack Ass. Press stalks through the hall ways of his Super 8 motel, weaving in and out of connecting cement. An Ice Bucket is full to the top, as he rounds the corner towards his room. Finally, using an electronic Key Card, he swipes it through the door's lock, and it beeps before popping open. He strolls into the door setting the ice bucket upon the table to his left, and then sits down on the end of his bed fumbling with the remote. The sudden flash of the TV coming on causes him to look up in delight. Yet, the face of Chase Maxim, his opponent for Saturday Illusion, was not a delightful image. Turning the volume up a bit, he leans in intently listening to the ramblings of the idiot's attempt at a promo. Press allows a grin as Maxim plays right into his hands, comments rendered about his earlier speale for the AW cameras. A flushing sound is heard from within the bathroom, and the door opens...Flaming Youth strolling out wearing a wife beater, and a pear of jeans. He looks to the television, and his nose curls up in disgust.::
Flaming Youth: Who is this Ass Clown?
::Press chuckles, and then points to the television non-chalantly.::
Press: That......is one of our Opponents.
::Youth's face continues to scowl as he seems unimpressed.::
Flaming Youth: And which one would he be?
Press: That's Maxi Pad.
Flaming Youth: That's him?
::Press nods as both men watch on as the promo finishes up. Youth walks past Press, and plops down in a chair beside the table. He pulls a coke from his bag, and then drops a few ice cubes down through the top of the bottle...letting it fizzle inside the bottle. He stares at it for long moments, and then looks up from it as if he now has an idea.::
Flaming Youth: I wonder how fast the AW would send a Camera Crew if we called them?
Press: Only one way to find out.
::Press throws Youth the phone as he continues to watch television. After a phone call, and about a twenty minute wait...a knock is heard at the door. Youth hops up from his chair, and opens the door. Surprise takes over him as he steps back out of the doorway allowing the door to swing open and reveal a very beautiful woman. She smiles sweetly as Youth looks on dumbfounded. Press shakes his head at his friends lack of self control, and then shoves Youth out of the way.::
Press: Hi, I'm Preston..but most call me Press. This guy here...
::Press nods his head back in the direction of Youth.::
Press: Is Justin, better known as Flaming Youth.
::The woman nods, looking about the room in wonder. She then smiles, and extends her hand.::
Woman: And I am Sara Aldridge, Reporter for the AW. Is this where we are setting up shop Gentlemen?
::Youth suddenly moves to slide right in between Press & Sara, and smiles genuinely.::
Flaming Youth: Sweetheart...You can set up anything you want in here.
::Sara blinks a bit, and then coughs a bit as she looks to Press who takes a step back, and then chuckles at his friend's idiocy. Press sits down in the chair where Youth had once been sitting.::
Press: Yeah, in here is fine.
::Sara nods, and then turns to motion with her hand. Moments later, a Cameraman toting an expensive looking video camera comes walking into the room. He finds a place to set up, checking his equipment as he goes. Sara stands off to the side with a smile on her face. Press simply watches as Youth ogles her every move, a stupid grin plastered on his face. Sara doesn't seem to notice as she takes the AW microphone within her hand, and prepares to make the interview. Press smirks, and then leans back in his chair as Youth takes a seat in the chair opposite of him.::
Sara Aldridge: Alright AW, we are here with two of the new Superstars from the AW, The BombTrax! And they are set up this week to take on none other than Chase Maxim, and Nate The Great. Unfortunately Nate The Great wasn't present to get a word with, but Chase Maxim has had plenty to say...as have our duo here with us today. So Press, what do you have to say about your opponents?
Press: Their Jack Asses.
::Press silences, and leans back in his chair with a smirk....and Sara awaits him to speak further. When he doesn't..she raises her eyebrow, and just simply stares.::
Sara Aldridge: That's it?
Press: What more really need's to be said? Have you looked at a Chase Maxim Promo? The kid is slightly retarded...it wouldn't be fair to go around making fun of him out in the open. The first time it was just business, this time...well....it would just be mean.
::Sara stares at Press, and then shakes her head...before turning to Youth.::
Sara Aldridge: And you, what do you have to say about this match?
::Youth smirks.::
Flaming Youth: Who could think about a match at a time like this.
Sara Aldridge: A time like what?
Flaming Youth: A time like "this"...
::Youth raises his eyebrows a few times, and then winks to Sara as she sits there in befuddlement. Her eyes suddenly open widely as she stares at him in astonishment.::
Sara Aldridge: (mumbling to herself) That son of a bitch....(now looking to Youth) LISTEN! I don't know what Tuff Stuff said to you, but those Rumor's are NOT TRUE!!
::Youth chuckles and holds his hands out defensively.::
Flaming Youth: Listen lady, I don't know any Tough Shit...or anyone by that name. All I was doing was trying to be friendly.
Sara Aldridge: What you are doing is being rude, and vulgar!!
Flaming Youth: Hey...I may be Vulgar, but I have yet to be rude. If anything, I've been overly nice.
::Sara shakes her head, and then sighs loudly as she stares at Youth with obvious reservation.::
Sara Aldridge: Are you going to talk about your match or not?
Flaming Youth: Fine, Fine! What do you want me to say about the match?
Sara Aldridge: Now how the hell am I supposed to know? I'm not facing them, you are!
Flaming Youth: God damn, I didn't realize this would be so much tough Stuff!
::Sara's eyes narrow.::
Sara Aldridge: What about Tuff Stuff?
Flaming Youth: Huh?
Sara Aldridge: You just said something about Tuff Stuff. Now what the hell did he tell you?
Flaming Youth: What the.....I never said anything about any stuff!
Sara Aldridge: DAMN IT! I WANT TO KNOW WHAT HE SAID TO YOU!!
Flaming Youth: WHO SAID WHAT TO WHO?!?!?!
Sara Aldridge: WHAT TUFF STUFF SAID TO YOU!!
Flaming Youth: I DON'T KNOW ANY TUFF SNUFF!!
Sara Aldridge: It's Tuff Stuff, and you obviously know him..or I wouldn't be sitting here with a young, horny man at..
::looks to the clock on the dresser in the corner.::
Sara Aldridge: Midnite, sitting around with you two bozo's shooting the breeze. Now get on with this interview!!
::Youth's eyes grow wide, and this his nose curls.::
Flaming Youth: Shooting the breeze........You're Farting over there!!
::Youth points accusingly.::
Flaming Youth: I knew I smelled something from over there!!!
Sara Aldridge: I MOST CERTAINLY DID NOT!!
Flaming Youth: Oh yes you did! You already admitted to it!
Sara Aldridge: SHUT UP!!
Flaming Youth: You shut up Fart Sniffer!
Sara Aldridge: ARGH!!!
::Sara suddenly comes from her seated position, and explodes towards Youth..tackling him right out of his chair down onto the ground. The two roll around for a moment as Press sits off over in his chair, staring at the wall as if in non-belief. Finally, the two come to a rest with Sara on top of Youth, his hands firmly planted into the Super 8's carpet. She looks at him, and then without warning...the two begin to kiss. Press rolls his eyes in an 'oh brother' undertone as he stands up, and then steps over the two motioning for the cameraman to follow him outside into the hallway. Doing so, the Camera cuts from the passionate embrace of Youth & the AW reporter, to Press. Once outside, Press stares into the camera and allows a thin line to cross his lips.::
Press: Sometimes in life, fate hands you a lemon. As the saying goes, you can either be sour about it...or add some suger and make lemonade. Well, in the wrestling profession the same can be said about guys like Chase Maxim. Either we can just go out here, and beat this guy fair and square, or...we can make an example out of him for all to see. On one hand we get a win, but nothing else. On the other hand, we get not only a win, but the satisfaction of knowing that we own the little shit. So this is what we're going to do Chase.....we';re going to come down to that ring, and whether your partner shows up or not...we are going to be waiting on you. And if you ever get the gumption to actually make your way down that rampway, and into the ring...I promise you, it will be an experience you will never forget. Your name wasn't your mother's only Mistake Chase.......so was your conception. With a face like yours, who needs birth control. The idea of you as anybody's kid is disturbing enough to cause any sane person not to want to have sex unprotected, if at all. I can see where all this may get confusing Chase. When am I being serious, when am I joking? When am I going to address the match, when am I going to stop belittling you because of your name? Well kid, the only answer I can provide you will be in that ring on Saturday. And the only question that will be asked is, Do you have the guts to show up? If so, you get an A for attendance, but as far as the match goes...your just another victim of circumstance. The Circumstance being that when I'm in that ring...it's MY ring. I don't take kindly to outsiders, especially the kind that run their mouths endlessly about nothing of importance. Bring your Egyptian buddy with you. It will be an educational experience. Consider this your warning chump, because all the money in the world isn't going to save you from me. God Given Natural Talent is the only thing I need to put you in your place....and kid.....I'm chock full of that. Unfortunate for you, the only thing your chock full of......is Horse Shit!
::Press smirks, and then goes back to serious after a sigh.::
Press: Chase....I'll be there Saturday. I'll be just biding my time till our match comes, and then...I'm going to step through those ropes, and seethe until I get you in that ring all for myself. Youth will be there, but make no mistake....this is now between You & Me. I may be an idiot, but I'm an idiot with an advantage. Today's stars can be made up of virtual no names. Give any man the right gimmick, and right persona...and you've got your Main Event right there. But you see pal...I don't need a gimmick. I don't need a bunch of bullshit to get me over. All I need is the one thing that all of you other AW Fuck's lack. It's a little thing called Talent, and that little thing can carry you a hell of a long way. So while you boys go out there scrounging around for it, hoping for it, trying to buy it....I'll be racking up win's and titles. Think about it Chase.....and realize your fate. I'm not going to talk anymore Chase...this is the end. Unfortunately, you can't even see that it doesn't matter what's said after this. It doesn't matter how many promo's you get in. This match was decided the moment mine & Youth's name's were signed to it. We win, and you lose. Don't fret over it to much Chase.....it's going to be a reoccurring theme around the AW from now on!!
::Press allows a broad smile as he steps past the camera, and the camera zooms in on their door......panting, and moaning floating out into the hallway from in under the door. The cameraman then turns to see where Press went, but the big man is gone. The camera then turns to black.::