Post by Dakota Smith on Mar 12, 2019 13:32:26 GMT -5
It had been a few days since Flash had lost his Union Battleground Championship match, and in that time he had done some reflection, or maybe it was brooding. Like a neon light flickering on the scene comes through, it’s dark aside from the multi-colored fluorescent lights that hang in the background, giving the scene an almost acid trip type vibe. Drug paraphernalia, mirrors stained with substances and alcohol bottles litter the room. A mattress of the floor, covered by a black sheet is where we find Flash, he hasn't shaved in awhile and his hair was looking rather wild. Just then there is a knock on the door, Flash slowly opens bloodshot eyes, as gunk cracks off of his eyelids. The door to the room opens and for a brief moment you see Jay Sinclair pop his head in, simply saying “ He awake. “ before exiting.
Blinking a few more times and letting out an exhausted sounding groan, Flash pushes his hands against the mattress before popping himself up to a standing position. Flash is dressed in a grungy pair of blue jeans that hang just a tad off his ass, exposing his lights blue boxers. Getting his footing, and shaking the cobwebs out of his head Flash takes a step forward, stumbling for a second. Once he finds his balance he makes his way through the mess on the floor, to a dresser. Opening the top drawer, Flash pulls out a pristine white wife beater and puts it on, before snatching his circular, dark purple tinted glasses off the top of the dresser. As he places the glasses over his eyes, Flash gives the room a quick look around as if he forgot something - that is when he grabs the blunt from atop the dresser and pushes it behind his ear.
Flash looks at the camera, giving it curious smirk before running his hands through his hair, pushing it back as he makes his way out of the room. As he enters the living room, the lighting is about the same - except this time there are more black-lights. In the middle of the room you see a man tied to a chair, he was skinny - looking almost like a junkie. Standing above him was the menacing Jay Sinclair, baseball bat in hand. As Flash makes his way across the room, he pauses for a moment and dips down - picking up a Chicago White Sox cap off the floor and putting it on backwards. As he approaches the junkie, the smirk on his face widens to a grin. Crouching down in front of the man he grabs a hold of his jaw.
“Where’s my money Cletus!.”
Retracting his hand back off of the man’s jaw, Flash scratches at his nostrils. The Junkie begins to mumble some kind of nonsense, and that is when Flash looks to Jay and nods. Instantly Jay cocks the bat back and smacks The Junkie in the side of the head with the bat.
“Where’s my fuckin’ money!”
The junkie begins to weakishly cry, he was to far gone out of his own addiction to even understand what was happening right now, but Flash wasn't having any of it. Flash jumps up back to a standing position and takes the bat from Jay, he cocks it back as if he was about to hit a home run and swings forward, stopping just inches before hitting the man's head. Then as Flash holds the bat with one hand he slowly turns it so that it’s pointing to the camera.
Letting out faded chuckle, Flash lets the bat rest at his side as he continues speaking.
“ Because you damaging my image, you tarnishing what I been doin’ by comin’ up in here actin’ like weed makes you a total fuckin’ retard. Callin’ yo’ self Dilligaf like it’s two thousand and five… I been burner, been the pothead of the company and now someone like you comes in, and act like it a fuckin’ joke! Maybe not intentionally so, but the shit you preachin’ Cletus is fuckin’ nursery rhymes. You act like this dude with a message, like some sort of messiah sent to enlighten us… But what the fuck even yo’ message dude? Weed is good? No shit! It’s twenty-nineteen! Shit’s legal basically everywhere! We fuckin’ know! Union ain’t need to weed messiah, no weed priah,No nothin’!
All that talk, all that hype that you tried to produce for yo’ self, just get a debut match fo’ dat Warhorse! And watchu’ do with that opportunity Cletus? Fuck all! I watched the match, me n Jay kicked back and watched the whole show from the sideline. And you know how much it eat at me, that I couldn’t get on the card, but yo’ bum ass could? Yo’ generic edgelord fuckin’ ass, motherfuckin’, Dilligaf, comin’ out to limp bizkit havin’ ass! How old is you bruh! Come out here actin’ like a child! And Drell fuckin’ killed you, like Drell does. And don’t be thinkin’ this match against me is gonna’ be any dif my dude. Because unlike you when I lose, like I lost… To Alyssa..”
Flash pauses for a moment, obviously still affected by the defeat at the hand of Alyssa Daniels, his facial expression turns to one of disgust as he grabs the blunt from his behind his ear. Without even thinkin’, he lights it up like clockwork. Taking a few puffs as his eyes meet back up to the camera. He holds the blunt up to the camera, as if to say “ See? Dumbass.”. As Flash blows smoke into the camera he continues.
“ I ain’t buy it bruh! I ain’t but the whole big as fuck yet fast as fuck. Because I know i’m faster than you, I know i’m greater than you. If yo’ big dumb ass decides to do a four-fifty splash on me, I’ll just dodge lettin’ you land on ya’ got damn neck! Because shit’s ridiculous! I’m the fastest, the highest, the very best to do what I do, and you? You just an imposter, tryin’ be ten things at once. Is you spooky? Is you a big man? A Prophet? A messiah? A pothead? I don’t fuckin’ know! But it don’t matter, because you could be anyone right now.. Anyone at all, and I’d beat yo ass like I was ten feet tall. Because I ain’t gonna’ let no one pass me by! Yeah, I lost to just like you! Got an opportunity, and fucked it up! Let these fans get it my head, risked my body for their enjoyment… See I ain’t doin’ that shit no more. “
Taking another puff of the blunt, Flash then ashes on the junkie and passes the blunt to Jay. Bring the bat up, Flash holds it one hand, and taps it against his other hand as he continues.
“ So what you doin’, who you think you facin’, it’s all wrong my guy… Because I swear I ain’t gonna be the man that lost to Alyssa Daniels anymore, I ain’t gonna be the dude who puts all these fans on my shoulders.. I don’t gives a fuck what they think of me, and what my plans are… Because my motives have changed, if I ain’t winnin’, If I ain’t provin’ that I’m the best in the fuckin’ business every single time I go out there! Then what’s the point Cletus? I’ll give ya’ hint there ain’t one! So i’m not just goin’ into our match tryin’ to prove something. I’m comin’ it bearing it all! I can’t look to the future, to two high kru! To them tag belts! Not with your corn fed, inbred, dumber than fuckin’ dirt havin’ ass in front of me. So I’mma go through you, I’mma use you to reinvent myself… You wiill be the stage in which I launch myself into the atmosphere. Got big plans Cletus, got moves that need to be made. And I ain’t lettin’ a fuckin’ poser like you stop me. Jay Ain’t lettin’ a poser like you stop me! “
Turning his back to the camera, Flash lifts the bat up under the Junkie’s chin - raising his head up in the process.
“ You a threat, but you a threat just like anyone else put in front of me. It ain’t like i’m sleepin’ on you Cletus, I understand retard strength does exist, and in a different maybe you and I could of been friends, even if you smoke that bunk shit. But that just ain’t how it is, You tryin’ make a name fo’ yo self and I get that… But I’m tryina’ be the best to ever do it! I’m tryin to rise above the competition, not just be high above but light years ahead of em. And If I have to break you, berate you, chop you up and skirt steak you… I’mma do it. So I ask again. “
In one swift motion Flash bring the baseball bat back high above his head.
“ Where’s my fuckin’ money!”
As he swings forward, the bat connects to the side of the Junkie’s head with a loud smack. But as soon as you hear said smack, the camera cuts to black.
