Post by defunctlies on Apr 2, 2008 13:06:00 GMT -6
The scene fades in, and Jack Hammond is once again in a car (surprise, surprise), cruising through the streets of Texas. The sun is blazing down on the British high-flyer, one arm cocked out the open window, his free hand on the wheel. He looks towards the camera mounted on the dashboard.
"Texas. Not exactly a place I'd have expected to be driving through when I was much younger, growing up in Birmingham. For those of you who don't know where Birmingham is in England, or have no idea what it's like, just imagine lots and lots of very boring grey buildings and very grey weather. So coming here is, to be quite frank, a breath of fresh air. Aside from the politics, the food which comes in greasy portions larger than me and the fact almost 90% of the people who live here are armed, I quite like it here."
He smiles and gestures in front of him with his free arm to the car.
"And the roads are perfect for these kinds of cars."
The shot fades to one looking at the car, a classic Dodge Challenger, coloured a lush, deep red. It rumbles along, showing that Jack is cruising through the City of Houston. The camera eventually cuts back to the 'dashcam'.
"Now, I'm just renting this, but this Charger is a fantastic car, especially on these roads; Big, long flat stretches of empty black stuff with a muscle car with a socking great engine to get you over said black stuff in the time it takes to say 'watch this!'."
So saying, Jack buries his right foot, emitting an even louder roar from the Challenger's engine and exhausts, the car bucking backwards and shooting forwards. After a few seconds of revving, however, Jack takes his foot of the gas.
"However, I am within city limits and do not want to spend my time in a jail cell with a burly man named Bubba."
He reclines back in his seat again, relaxing and 'cruising' again...a little laughable considering the size of him in the frankly giant car (well, in terms of proportion).
"However, I still, for some reason, like going back to Birmingham, with its horrid Tower Blocks and utterly confusing one-way system and even more horrid weather. It's where I grew up and so I've got a sense of closeness with it. It helped raise me and nurture me; I learned to wrestle there and got into my first fights there. Then again, seeing as I'm a short, angry bloke, that was kind of going to happen anyways."
He makes a face before sighing and then looking back at the camera again.
"Now, you may wonder what this has to do with my match this weekend against Christian Kane. Well, as I understand it, he's another Birmingham lad, who's seems a lot more settled here in America. He's certainly been in the nCw longer than me and has managed quite a few achievements in the time he's been here."
He holds up his free hand, counting on his fingers as he speaks.
"He was the original leader of The Empire. Not exactly an achievement in my opinion, if I'm honest; it's like being in charge of a brass marching band...you're noisy and annoying, and people are far more interested in the new stuff coming out these days. Then, he got a shot at the X Division Title, but fell at the final hurdle...fair enough, seeing that I had a chance to qualify for a number one contender's match but I lost and I'm gaining a loss record that would make someone who overdosed on prozac depressed."
The scene inside the Challenger changes to black and white, Hammond once again in his 'over-the-top-goth' outfit, trying to look angsty, but pulling off some odd kind of gurn, the dulcet tones of 'How Could This Happen To Me', striking up.
Quickly the scene shifts back, Jack shaking his head and laughing.
"I'm sorry. I promise, I'll never ever do that again...maybe."
A muffled voice comes from the passenger's side, the person out of view as Jack glances over, and then shrugs, looking a little sheepish.
"Well, it does run a bit thin after a while, mate."
The camera fades out, moving outside for a moment before going back in.
"Right, where was I? Ah. Well, needless to say, Christian has been here longer than me and then he went on holiday when I arrived. So, I haven't seen him in action, as of yet, and so therefore I'm not really in a position to mock nor judge. He's from the same city as me, but he seems to have a touch of the 'upper-crust' about him, whereas I'm a bit...well, middle-class actually, but nevertheless...it'll at least be interesting."
He looks directly at the camera.
"So, Christian Kane, this Sunday at Wired, don't disappoint, mate. I'd hate for your holiday to have made you lazy or have you underestimate me. I may have lost most of my matches so far in the nCw, but I like to think I've lost...with style."
A laugh comes from the passenger's seat, making Jack deadpan.
"I didn't mind wearing that terrible outfit again. Please don't give me a reason to."
The scene fades out, the Challenger cruising off down the road.
"Texas. Not exactly a place I'd have expected to be driving through when I was much younger, growing up in Birmingham. For those of you who don't know where Birmingham is in England, or have no idea what it's like, just imagine lots and lots of very boring grey buildings and very grey weather. So coming here is, to be quite frank, a breath of fresh air. Aside from the politics, the food which comes in greasy portions larger than me and the fact almost 90% of the people who live here are armed, I quite like it here."
He smiles and gestures in front of him with his free arm to the car.
"And the roads are perfect for these kinds of cars."
The shot fades to one looking at the car, a classic Dodge Challenger, coloured a lush, deep red. It rumbles along, showing that Jack is cruising through the City of Houston. The camera eventually cuts back to the 'dashcam'.
"Now, I'm just renting this, but this Charger is a fantastic car, especially on these roads; Big, long flat stretches of empty black stuff with a muscle car with a socking great engine to get you over said black stuff in the time it takes to say 'watch this!'."
So saying, Jack buries his right foot, emitting an even louder roar from the Challenger's engine and exhausts, the car bucking backwards and shooting forwards. After a few seconds of revving, however, Jack takes his foot of the gas.
"However, I am within city limits and do not want to spend my time in a jail cell with a burly man named Bubba."
He reclines back in his seat again, relaxing and 'cruising' again...a little laughable considering the size of him in the frankly giant car (well, in terms of proportion).
"However, I still, for some reason, like going back to Birmingham, with its horrid Tower Blocks and utterly confusing one-way system and even more horrid weather. It's where I grew up and so I've got a sense of closeness with it. It helped raise me and nurture me; I learned to wrestle there and got into my first fights there. Then again, seeing as I'm a short, angry bloke, that was kind of going to happen anyways."
He makes a face before sighing and then looking back at the camera again.
"Now, you may wonder what this has to do with my match this weekend against Christian Kane. Well, as I understand it, he's another Birmingham lad, who's seems a lot more settled here in America. He's certainly been in the nCw longer than me and has managed quite a few achievements in the time he's been here."
He holds up his free hand, counting on his fingers as he speaks.
"He was the original leader of The Empire. Not exactly an achievement in my opinion, if I'm honest; it's like being in charge of a brass marching band...you're noisy and annoying, and people are far more interested in the new stuff coming out these days. Then, he got a shot at the X Division Title, but fell at the final hurdle...fair enough, seeing that I had a chance to qualify for a number one contender's match but I lost and I'm gaining a loss record that would make someone who overdosed on prozac depressed."
The scene inside the Challenger changes to black and white, Hammond once again in his 'over-the-top-goth' outfit, trying to look angsty, but pulling off some odd kind of gurn, the dulcet tones of 'How Could This Happen To Me', striking up.
Quickly the scene shifts back, Jack shaking his head and laughing.
"I'm sorry. I promise, I'll never ever do that again...maybe."
A muffled voice comes from the passenger's side, the person out of view as Jack glances over, and then shrugs, looking a little sheepish.
"Well, it does run a bit thin after a while, mate."
The camera fades out, moving outside for a moment before going back in.
"Right, where was I? Ah. Well, needless to say, Christian has been here longer than me and then he went on holiday when I arrived. So, I haven't seen him in action, as of yet, and so therefore I'm not really in a position to mock nor judge. He's from the same city as me, but he seems to have a touch of the 'upper-crust' about him, whereas I'm a bit...well, middle-class actually, but nevertheless...it'll at least be interesting."
He looks directly at the camera.
"So, Christian Kane, this Sunday at Wired, don't disappoint, mate. I'd hate for your holiday to have made you lazy or have you underestimate me. I may have lost most of my matches so far in the nCw, but I like to think I've lost...with style."
A laugh comes from the passenger's seat, making Jack deadpan.
"I didn't mind wearing that terrible outfit again. Please don't give me a reason to."
The scene fades out, the Challenger cruising off down the road.