Post by Jack Hammond on Apr 26, 2009 6:18:05 GMT -6
A mild, sunny afternoon in Cleveland, and Jack Hammond is pacing the streets, the camera backing away from him as he strides forward. An expression of distinct annoyance is planted across his face, an irritated sigh passing his lips as he looks into the lens.
“Before I begin, I’d like to state for the record that all police officers are nice, agreeable people, and trying to argue with them is about as useful as making a DVD Rewinder, and that swearing loudly at them when they threaten to impound your car is even sillier. I’m not asking for any sympathy, nor am I going to have a little hissy fit; I fought the law and the law took away my car, leaving me having to walk and a rather big bill to pay.”
He looks beyond the camera, his expression lightening slightly as he seems to spot something.
“However, I can’t get my car out within 24 hours for some reason, so I’ve decided to do the next best thing and simply...”
The camera pans around as he points, the lens settling upon a sign that reads ‘Used Car Lot’. Jack chuckles quietly.
“I’m going to buy a new car.”
A camera cut later, we see Hammond walking down a row of cars of all shapes and sizes, in various states of disrepair. He looks them over with his trained eye, nodding at some and balking at others, in one case laughing his head off and pointing at a rather dilapidated-looking Proton, a Malaysian car that had a body kit to make it look like a (albeit weird looking) Ferrari. Eventually he walks up to the camera with a grin.
“Well, there are a couple I’ve got my eye on, and thankfully the owner here trusts me to take a few on a test drive.”
He rubs his hands before walking out of shot. The scene cuts to show Hammond in what appears to be a flashy-looking convertible with the top down, which seems to have a license plate that reads ‘STVAWSM’.
“Now this is the kind of car we’d get for the person who likes to show off and makes sure that everyone knows who you are. Ideally, you should drive around shirtless, your abs glistening in the sun, and a trail of fangirls screaming in your wake. The only reason you’d put the roof up is to shield yourself from the showers of moist underwear.”
Jack is shown to be mulling it over for a while, looking around but failing to spot any fangirls in tow.
“However, I’m not sure I’d be able to pull it off. Going around topless in a topless car is all well and good for someone who exudes sexiness and awesome, which I don’t. Plus, this kind of car is about as good for serious driving with its lack of a stiff chassis as wellington boots are for rock climbing.”
Hammond sighs and shakes his head before looking down at himself and idly tugging at his shirt before stopping himself and wincing at the thoughts running through his head. Another scene cut and Jack is now in a sedate looking BMW. He looks around the interior and nods quietly.
“Now this isn’t a bad idea. Something a little...’normal’. No flashy exterior, no need to drive around taking cover from underwear, but still very much functional and very...normal.”
Jack coughs and pauses for a while, just driving along. He arches an eyebrow as he looks back at the camera.
“However, I feel that driving one of these around, trying to be a regular family man all the time...it may get to you after a while. Trying to conform to the ‘American Dream’ and doing a regular job might produce some rather interesting side-effects...like mailing people used letter openers...with blood on them.”
Hammond shifts a little uncomfortably in the seat before scratching his head.
“Honestly, I’m getting the urge to go on a psychotic rampage at work just thinking about it...”
Another scene cut and another car, this time a pickup truck, Jack sitting with a smile on his face and his hand resting on the wheel as he lazes along.
“I really like pickup trucks. Simple, functional and they can go all over the place if you want them to. True, they can be as maneuverable as an aircraft carrier, but they’re not there to be driven, they’re there to be used.”
He shrugs nonchalantly.
“They’re also as cheap as chips if you want just a basic one...that said the owner of the car lot tried to strike a deal, and it seemed a little dirty considering the condition which is...not good.”
He grunts as he tries to shift gear, a distinct and ugly grinding sound coming from the gearbox. He sighs.
“Y’see that’s why I’ve been just pootling along...feels like trying to shift a stuck pig. And that brings me on to my main problem with pickups, which is the way most people who drive pickups are viewed...y’know the kind of ‘good old boys’ who drive around, whooping and hunting some wildlife. Drinking moonshine and abducting ring announcers. And I’m not sure that’s very ‘me’.”
Jack suppresses his cheeky grin a little unsuccessfully as the scene cuts once more, Hammond now sitting in a leviathan of a car, a Cadillac Escalade. He nods and looks around.
“Now this is impressive. A big, big car with enough presence to make you visible from space and it can intimidate any mere mortal in your way to let you pass with no question.”
He pauses.
“Now, I realize this car is more likely to be found in the hands of the most stylish and successful rappers, to pose around in, riding high and with music blasting loudly enough to set off minor earthquakes. And where most rappers are tall, well-built men who could put a physique like Jackhammer’s to shame, I’m a small white bloke who listens to music I’m sometimes ashamed to admit to so I play it at a volume that only I and certain breeds of fruitbats can hear.”
Hammond cocks an eyebrow, glancing at the camera.
“A friend of mine told me that a car like this is great for picking up women. But I’m so short that when I do pull up next to someone, the widow’s going to roll down and they’ll think nobody’s driving it until it’s all the way down, when the top of my head’s just about visible.”
Jack frowns.
“You just need some sort of ‘X’ factor to own one of these. You need to be someone who’s not easily intimidated, someone who will be a force to be reckoned with, a man who can garner respect anywhere he goes, no matter what he chooses to do.”
He shrugs.
“Again, do I really look like that kind of guy? I may have some talent and the luck to get myself in the right place in the right time, and I’m apparently the first man in nCw to have attained the World Title before having gotten any other championship. But as far as I’m concerned statistics do not make the man.”
Jack shakes his head before looking at the camera.
“Okay, perhaps I need to be a little less subtle. Xavier, you are then man I have to beat. Our previous matches have seen neither of us satisfied and I don’t know about you, but I’m dying to get a chance to try and settle this. For me it’s not about the title, it’s about the fight and whilst you can play that off as me trying not to set myself up for disappointment, the belt is only a bonus in my eyes; I want you, X.”
He pauses and blinks before chuckling to himself.
“Walked into that one, didn’t I?”
Jack lets out a sigh as he reclines in the seat, the scenery still flitting slowly past the side window.
“We’ve fought over gold twice before, but only this time can we truly find out who wants it more, who deserves it more. Which one of us is a winner and which one of us has to settle for being second best? Who will be remembered when the dust settles? Everyone remembers the winners when it counts. The only ones who remember you coming second are your wife and your dog.”
Jack pauses once again.
“...and I don’t have a dog.”
He waves his hand dismissively.
“But you’ve got to wonder, who wants it more? I suppose actions speak louder than words, and your little swing at me last Sunday shows me that you don’t want to lose. You’re willing to damage not just my head but your credibility with an action like that, X. Is it desperation? Do you think I’m going to beat you and take your title? Could you live with yourself for breaking your so called code of ‘honor’ by stooping so low as to making a sneak attack?”
Jack shakes his head before looking hard into the camera lens.
“So what will it be, X? Do you want to make history by beating me on our terms? On the terms of two men who respect each other? On the terms of two men who give everything for this business? Or are you changing your rules to get the edge over me? Are you scared or nervous, Xavier? The man I know wouldn’t be scared and would be willing to face me straight up.”
Hammond cracks his trademarked confident grin at the camera as he seems to pull the car to a stop, yanking on the handbrake.
“Well I’m sure this Sunday, we’ll see the man you really are, X.”
Jack grins and exits the car, closing the door behind him as the scene fades out to black.
“Before I begin, I’d like to state for the record that all police officers are nice, agreeable people, and trying to argue with them is about as useful as making a DVD Rewinder, and that swearing loudly at them when they threaten to impound your car is even sillier. I’m not asking for any sympathy, nor am I going to have a little hissy fit; I fought the law and the law took away my car, leaving me having to walk and a rather big bill to pay.”
He looks beyond the camera, his expression lightening slightly as he seems to spot something.
“However, I can’t get my car out within 24 hours for some reason, so I’ve decided to do the next best thing and simply...”
The camera pans around as he points, the lens settling upon a sign that reads ‘Used Car Lot’. Jack chuckles quietly.
“I’m going to buy a new car.”
A camera cut later, we see Hammond walking down a row of cars of all shapes and sizes, in various states of disrepair. He looks them over with his trained eye, nodding at some and balking at others, in one case laughing his head off and pointing at a rather dilapidated-looking Proton, a Malaysian car that had a body kit to make it look like a (albeit weird looking) Ferrari. Eventually he walks up to the camera with a grin.
“Well, there are a couple I’ve got my eye on, and thankfully the owner here trusts me to take a few on a test drive.”
He rubs his hands before walking out of shot. The scene cuts to show Hammond in what appears to be a flashy-looking convertible with the top down, which seems to have a license plate that reads ‘STVAWSM’.
“Now this is the kind of car we’d get for the person who likes to show off and makes sure that everyone knows who you are. Ideally, you should drive around shirtless, your abs glistening in the sun, and a trail of fangirls screaming in your wake. The only reason you’d put the roof up is to shield yourself from the showers of moist underwear.”
Jack is shown to be mulling it over for a while, looking around but failing to spot any fangirls in tow.
“However, I’m not sure I’d be able to pull it off. Going around topless in a topless car is all well and good for someone who exudes sexiness and awesome, which I don’t. Plus, this kind of car is about as good for serious driving with its lack of a stiff chassis as wellington boots are for rock climbing.”
Hammond sighs and shakes his head before looking down at himself and idly tugging at his shirt before stopping himself and wincing at the thoughts running through his head. Another scene cut and Jack is now in a sedate looking BMW. He looks around the interior and nods quietly.
“Now this isn’t a bad idea. Something a little...’normal’. No flashy exterior, no need to drive around taking cover from underwear, but still very much functional and very...normal.”
Jack coughs and pauses for a while, just driving along. He arches an eyebrow as he looks back at the camera.
“However, I feel that driving one of these around, trying to be a regular family man all the time...it may get to you after a while. Trying to conform to the ‘American Dream’ and doing a regular job might produce some rather interesting side-effects...like mailing people used letter openers...with blood on them.”
Hammond shifts a little uncomfortably in the seat before scratching his head.
“Honestly, I’m getting the urge to go on a psychotic rampage at work just thinking about it...”
Another scene cut and another car, this time a pickup truck, Jack sitting with a smile on his face and his hand resting on the wheel as he lazes along.
“I really like pickup trucks. Simple, functional and they can go all over the place if you want them to. True, they can be as maneuverable as an aircraft carrier, but they’re not there to be driven, they’re there to be used.”
He shrugs nonchalantly.
“They’re also as cheap as chips if you want just a basic one...that said the owner of the car lot tried to strike a deal, and it seemed a little dirty considering the condition which is...not good.”
He grunts as he tries to shift gear, a distinct and ugly grinding sound coming from the gearbox. He sighs.
“Y’see that’s why I’ve been just pootling along...feels like trying to shift a stuck pig. And that brings me on to my main problem with pickups, which is the way most people who drive pickups are viewed...y’know the kind of ‘good old boys’ who drive around, whooping and hunting some wildlife. Drinking moonshine and abducting ring announcers. And I’m not sure that’s very ‘me’.”
Jack suppresses his cheeky grin a little unsuccessfully as the scene cuts once more, Hammond now sitting in a leviathan of a car, a Cadillac Escalade. He nods and looks around.
“Now this is impressive. A big, big car with enough presence to make you visible from space and it can intimidate any mere mortal in your way to let you pass with no question.”
He pauses.
“Now, I realize this car is more likely to be found in the hands of the most stylish and successful rappers, to pose around in, riding high and with music blasting loudly enough to set off minor earthquakes. And where most rappers are tall, well-built men who could put a physique like Jackhammer’s to shame, I’m a small white bloke who listens to music I’m sometimes ashamed to admit to so I play it at a volume that only I and certain breeds of fruitbats can hear.”
Hammond cocks an eyebrow, glancing at the camera.
“A friend of mine told me that a car like this is great for picking up women. But I’m so short that when I do pull up next to someone, the widow’s going to roll down and they’ll think nobody’s driving it until it’s all the way down, when the top of my head’s just about visible.”
Jack frowns.
“You just need some sort of ‘X’ factor to own one of these. You need to be someone who’s not easily intimidated, someone who will be a force to be reckoned with, a man who can garner respect anywhere he goes, no matter what he chooses to do.”
He shrugs.
“Again, do I really look like that kind of guy? I may have some talent and the luck to get myself in the right place in the right time, and I’m apparently the first man in nCw to have attained the World Title before having gotten any other championship. But as far as I’m concerned statistics do not make the man.”
Jack shakes his head before looking at the camera.
“Okay, perhaps I need to be a little less subtle. Xavier, you are then man I have to beat. Our previous matches have seen neither of us satisfied and I don’t know about you, but I’m dying to get a chance to try and settle this. For me it’s not about the title, it’s about the fight and whilst you can play that off as me trying not to set myself up for disappointment, the belt is only a bonus in my eyes; I want you, X.”
He pauses and blinks before chuckling to himself.
“Walked into that one, didn’t I?”
Jack lets out a sigh as he reclines in the seat, the scenery still flitting slowly past the side window.
“We’ve fought over gold twice before, but only this time can we truly find out who wants it more, who deserves it more. Which one of us is a winner and which one of us has to settle for being second best? Who will be remembered when the dust settles? Everyone remembers the winners when it counts. The only ones who remember you coming second are your wife and your dog.”
Jack pauses once again.
“...and I don’t have a dog.”
He waves his hand dismissively.
“But you’ve got to wonder, who wants it more? I suppose actions speak louder than words, and your little swing at me last Sunday shows me that you don’t want to lose. You’re willing to damage not just my head but your credibility with an action like that, X. Is it desperation? Do you think I’m going to beat you and take your title? Could you live with yourself for breaking your so called code of ‘honor’ by stooping so low as to making a sneak attack?”
Jack shakes his head before looking hard into the camera lens.
“So what will it be, X? Do you want to make history by beating me on our terms? On the terms of two men who respect each other? On the terms of two men who give everything for this business? Or are you changing your rules to get the edge over me? Are you scared or nervous, Xavier? The man I know wouldn’t be scared and would be willing to face me straight up.”
Hammond cracks his trademarked confident grin at the camera as he seems to pull the car to a stop, yanking on the handbrake.
“Well I’m sure this Sunday, we’ll see the man you really are, X.”
Jack grins and exits the car, closing the door behind him as the scene fades out to black.