Post by Simon Daye on Sept 14, 2012 19:31:13 GMT -6
[Simon sits at the Gib compound as he typically does lately, again after his workout and training session he stares into his phone, checking facebook, making a tweet or two, basically doing nothing but distracting himself on the device he wishes he was using for something else. The big massive hand of his mentor once again finds it’s way to the back of his head.]
Simon: Come on Gib, would you stop that?
Gib: Stop being a pussy.
Simon: That too.
[Gib smacks him harder.]
Simon: COME ON! I can’t!
Gib: Just call her you spineless frenchman.
Simon: That’s what i mean... I just... I can’t say what I want to say on a phone Gib.
Gib: Then go see her. Man up.
Simon: I’ll... think about it.
[Gib cracks his knuckles behind Simon’s head. Simons eyes go wide as he seems worried about what’s coming next.]
Simon: Fine. Fine. I’ll go. Christ.
Gib: That’s more like it... vagina head.
[Fade to black.]
Thanks a lot...
I thought we were on the same team there Mr. Roberto Verona.. but I guess you’re just looking out for yourself. I figured if you screwed anybody that it wouldn’t be me, but no.. there you were slow counting just because you could be a dick and costing me a victory just because you wanted to shove it to Kelly. Guess what, I wanted to shove it up her gaping twat as well, you see what she’s been putting me through and all you could think about was how you could act like a dill hole. Thanks... dill hole.
Now Kingsley... I swear to god I’m going to kick the **** out of you one of these days you lucky ass bitch. I don’t know how you keep beating me and Gib but it’s ridiculous and I vow to you that we’re going to put an end to it and we’re going to get our ***damn tag team titles back. I promise you on your skank ass momma’s grave, that you will not keep up this lucky streak.
Then finally... my opponant this week. The super bowl winning, steroided Jabari Woodhead. You know it’s hard to trash a guy walking around with a super bowl ring, it’s hard to thing of anything bad to say except for the steroid crack... but I’ve gotta say, of all the two sport athletes I’ve ever seen in my life you have to be the least impressive. Lawrence Taylor, Keven Greene, Steve “Mongo” McMichaels... hell that one guy who couldn’t even make the Vikings practice squad.... You have to be the worst of the bunch. It’s like you’re just cashing a check at this point.
You showed a lot of promise, but you’ve shown zero heart.
I wonder how that would work in the pros for you, I’m pretty sure Belichek would cut you faster than Rob Diamond does his arm after listening to his My Chemical Romance CD’s.
You might have all the “real” sports accomplishments, but this is about how many ****s I give about that............. yeah, zero. You’re big, tough, and you’re a mean SOB, but that’s not going to stop me after I just got beat again by that Australian titbag. You’re going down faster than those hookers the team hired the night before the superbowl... or was that the Dallas Cowboys? Whatever.... I hope you had a good night... because you’re about to have a terrible Daye...
Wow.. that was awful...
…. shut up.
[Sydney Knite sits alone in her hotel room, Kelly has just went to bed and stares blankly at the wall in front of her chest rises and falls with every deep breath she takes, trying to not lose her mind to all the thoughts running through her head. When there is a knock on the door she sighs before standing up and answering it. She however is almost thrown back when she sees Simon Daye standing there... smiling.]
Sydney: hh....hey.
Simon: I wanted to see you... talk to you... Can I, you know... come in and see you?
[Sydney lowers her head all sad like, she can barely bring herself to look at him right now. She nods her head softly and steps out of the way so Simon can step through.]
Sydney: … but Kelly might hear...
Simon: I don’t care about her... I just wanted to tell you... I’m sorry...
[Simon fiddles around with his hands and finger nails as he gulps down his pride, Sydney smiles softly at him as we fade to black on the sight of the two standing by each other.]
Simon: Come on Gib, would you stop that?
Gib: Stop being a pussy.
Simon: That too.
[Gib smacks him harder.]
Simon: COME ON! I can’t!
Gib: Just call her you spineless frenchman.
Simon: That’s what i mean... I just... I can’t say what I want to say on a phone Gib.
Gib: Then go see her. Man up.
Simon: I’ll... think about it.
[Gib cracks his knuckles behind Simon’s head. Simons eyes go wide as he seems worried about what’s coming next.]
Simon: Fine. Fine. I’ll go. Christ.
Gib: That’s more like it... vagina head.
[Fade to black.]
Thanks a lot...
I thought we were on the same team there Mr. Roberto Verona.. but I guess you’re just looking out for yourself. I figured if you screwed anybody that it wouldn’t be me, but no.. there you were slow counting just because you could be a dick and costing me a victory just because you wanted to shove it to Kelly. Guess what, I wanted to shove it up her gaping twat as well, you see what she’s been putting me through and all you could think about was how you could act like a dill hole. Thanks... dill hole.
Now Kingsley... I swear to god I’m going to kick the **** out of you one of these days you lucky ass bitch. I don’t know how you keep beating me and Gib but it’s ridiculous and I vow to you that we’re going to put an end to it and we’re going to get our ***damn tag team titles back. I promise you on your skank ass momma’s grave, that you will not keep up this lucky streak.
Then finally... my opponant this week. The super bowl winning, steroided Jabari Woodhead. You know it’s hard to trash a guy walking around with a super bowl ring, it’s hard to thing of anything bad to say except for the steroid crack... but I’ve gotta say, of all the two sport athletes I’ve ever seen in my life you have to be the least impressive. Lawrence Taylor, Keven Greene, Steve “Mongo” McMichaels... hell that one guy who couldn’t even make the Vikings practice squad.... You have to be the worst of the bunch. It’s like you’re just cashing a check at this point.
You showed a lot of promise, but you’ve shown zero heart.
I wonder how that would work in the pros for you, I’m pretty sure Belichek would cut you faster than Rob Diamond does his arm after listening to his My Chemical Romance CD’s.
You might have all the “real” sports accomplishments, but this is about how many ****s I give about that............. yeah, zero. You’re big, tough, and you’re a mean SOB, but that’s not going to stop me after I just got beat again by that Australian titbag. You’re going down faster than those hookers the team hired the night before the superbowl... or was that the Dallas Cowboys? Whatever.... I hope you had a good night... because you’re about to have a terrible Daye...
Wow.. that was awful...
…. shut up.
[Sydney Knite sits alone in her hotel room, Kelly has just went to bed and stares blankly at the wall in front of her chest rises and falls with every deep breath she takes, trying to not lose her mind to all the thoughts running through her head. When there is a knock on the door she sighs before standing up and answering it. She however is almost thrown back when she sees Simon Daye standing there... smiling.]
Sydney: hh....hey.
Simon: I wanted to see you... talk to you... Can I, you know... come in and see you?
[Sydney lowers her head all sad like, she can barely bring herself to look at him right now. She nods her head softly and steps out of the way so Simon can step through.]
Sydney: … but Kelly might hear...
Simon: I don’t care about her... I just wanted to tell you... I’m sorry...
[Simon fiddles around with his hands and finger nails as he gulps down his pride, Sydney smiles softly at him as we fade to black on the sight of the two standing by each other.]