Post by Dakota Smith on Dec 7, 2017 17:49:29 GMT -5
We open to a bedroom, a women can be seen laying on the bed, a white sheet covering her nudity her back turned to the camera. Laying at the curvature of her spine was a small light brown dog with long floppy ears. It was also asleep, cuddled up next to the women known as Charlie Bloom. The moonlight shines through the open windows giving you all this lovely view. As the camera pans back you hear the soft sounds of someone coughing. That man was Flash Kassidy, dressed in nothing but a pair of boxers and wife beater as well as his signature glasses. He had his feet up on a desk that was next to his bed, and at the bottom of the chair he was sitting on laid another dog. This one white and tad bigger than the one on the bed.
Flash had a blunt in his mouth, the smoke swirling up to the ceiling as he sketched what he saw in front of him onto a notepad. It wasn't bad work, an almost realistic likeness in the black scribbles on the paper. He pauses for a moment, glancing up at Charlie and Mozart, the dog. He then goes right back to his drawing, sketching them out in almost perfect detail - the blunt still burning away in between his lips.
Flash after a good few minutes puts down the pencil on his waist and blows on the paper, getting rid of an excess eraser shavings. He then looks over into the camera and gives it a very sly, almost cocky smirk as he plucks the blunt out of his mouth and blows a very large cloud of smoke up and into the air, fogging up the room in the process. Flash pulls down his shades slightly so the camera can see his bloodshot eyes before softly laughing to himself, not trying to wake Charlie. He then begins to speak in a laid-back , extremely chill tone.
“Don’t think I don’t see you. I hears the talk. I listen to the chatter of twitter. People got me pegged like some high-school dropout loser just because I decided that I rather talk the way I speaks. You know that’s fuckin’ discrimination right there man. That’s… That’s messed up. I don’t look at some straight cut white dude - wearing a suit and tie and think he must of graduated college with high honors. I ain’t like that.
I don’t judge a book by its cover. Cause people been doing that to me my whole life. They see me and they think I can’t put up a fight. They think that just because i’m small that I don’t got the ish to make it to the top. But a dagger will kill you just as fast as a battleaxe, and a pistol will shoot just as accurate as a shotgun with the right man pulling the trigger. “
Flash takes another hit off the blunt before removing his feet from the desk and putting it out in the ashtray, saving the roach by putting it behind his ear. He places his feet back up where they were before and lets his hand hang down from the chair, petting the dog known as Norman, who glanced up at him on initial contact - but then when back to sleeping as Chance ran his fingers through his fur. Chance grins before saying the dogs name in a cutesy tone underneath his voice. He then turns his attention back onto the camera.
“ What do any of you really know about me anyways? Not shit! See? I’m just a young gun coming out of a bad place and trying to get famous. Make that money and smoke my weed - know what i’m saying? But when I get in that ring - i’m like tupac. That is my stage. I’m gonna’ go in there and put on a mother fuckin’ show! I want that spotlight on me, because I know that i’m the hottest thing burnin’ in the streets right now.
I’m on the come up and I don’t need any of you fools out there to notice - because the fans… The audience? They going to be speaking about the ish that do for years to come. The way I move around in that ring it’s like that old-school poetry ish. A feast for the eyes, all displayed in full right there between those four corners. “
Flash picks his pencil backup and goes back to sketching, putting the finishing touches on his art.
“I don’t care how big or how small you are, if you’re getting into the ring with me I’m going to give you one hundred. Because I like the way it feels when they cheer my name, know what I mean? I like to hear their reactions as I soar through the air and put another guy in the dirt. I’m in it for the fight, and i’m in for the dollar bills. This shit right here is passion - you hear me?
Think you can keep me down? You’re wrong - because I’ll rise up ten times stronger than I was before. Go Kaioken and blast your ass right into a early retirement. So I guess you all could look at this little bit i’m doing here as a open challenge. I think I already got one Sheldon wanting to jump my nuts… But i’m open to all comers. You think you got what it takes to keep up with the hottest fucking thing in season two of Union Battleground?”
Having finished up his drawing Flash puts his feet down again and stands up, setting the image down on the desk and walking over to the bed. He looks down at charlie and removes his glasses, the look on his eyes was quite sweet actually - you could see the feelings he had for the women as he looked down upon her. His glance then shifted upward into the camera.
“Think again bruh. “
Flash had a blunt in his mouth, the smoke swirling up to the ceiling as he sketched what he saw in front of him onto a notepad. It wasn't bad work, an almost realistic likeness in the black scribbles on the paper. He pauses for a moment, glancing up at Charlie and Mozart, the dog. He then goes right back to his drawing, sketching them out in almost perfect detail - the blunt still burning away in between his lips.
Flash after a good few minutes puts down the pencil on his waist and blows on the paper, getting rid of an excess eraser shavings. He then looks over into the camera and gives it a very sly, almost cocky smirk as he plucks the blunt out of his mouth and blows a very large cloud of smoke up and into the air, fogging up the room in the process. Flash pulls down his shades slightly so the camera can see his bloodshot eyes before softly laughing to himself, not trying to wake Charlie. He then begins to speak in a laid-back , extremely chill tone.
“Don’t think I don’t see you. I hears the talk. I listen to the chatter of twitter. People got me pegged like some high-school dropout loser just because I decided that I rather talk the way I speaks. You know that’s fuckin’ discrimination right there man. That’s… That’s messed up. I don’t look at some straight cut white dude - wearing a suit and tie and think he must of graduated college with high honors. I ain’t like that.
I don’t judge a book by its cover. Cause people been doing that to me my whole life. They see me and they think I can’t put up a fight. They think that just because i’m small that I don’t got the ish to make it to the top. But a dagger will kill you just as fast as a battleaxe, and a pistol will shoot just as accurate as a shotgun with the right man pulling the trigger. “
Flash takes another hit off the blunt before removing his feet from the desk and putting it out in the ashtray, saving the roach by putting it behind his ear. He places his feet back up where they were before and lets his hand hang down from the chair, petting the dog known as Norman, who glanced up at him on initial contact - but then when back to sleeping as Chance ran his fingers through his fur. Chance grins before saying the dogs name in a cutesy tone underneath his voice. He then turns his attention back onto the camera.
“ What do any of you really know about me anyways? Not shit! See? I’m just a young gun coming out of a bad place and trying to get famous. Make that money and smoke my weed - know what i’m saying? But when I get in that ring - i’m like tupac. That is my stage. I’m gonna’ go in there and put on a mother fuckin’ show! I want that spotlight on me, because I know that i’m the hottest thing burnin’ in the streets right now.
I’m on the come up and I don’t need any of you fools out there to notice - because the fans… The audience? They going to be speaking about the ish that do for years to come. The way I move around in that ring it’s like that old-school poetry ish. A feast for the eyes, all displayed in full right there between those four corners. “
Flash picks his pencil backup and goes back to sketching, putting the finishing touches on his art.
“I don’t care how big or how small you are, if you’re getting into the ring with me I’m going to give you one hundred. Because I like the way it feels when they cheer my name, know what I mean? I like to hear their reactions as I soar through the air and put another guy in the dirt. I’m in it for the fight, and i’m in for the dollar bills. This shit right here is passion - you hear me?
Think you can keep me down? You’re wrong - because I’ll rise up ten times stronger than I was before. Go Kaioken and blast your ass right into a early retirement. So I guess you all could look at this little bit i’m doing here as a open challenge. I think I already got one Sheldon wanting to jump my nuts… But i’m open to all comers. You think you got what it takes to keep up with the hottest fucking thing in season two of Union Battleground?”
Having finished up his drawing Flash puts his feet down again and stands up, setting the image down on the desk and walking over to the bed. He looks down at charlie and removes his glasses, the look on his eyes was quite sweet actually - you could see the feelings he had for the women as he looked down upon her. His glance then shifted upward into the camera.
“Think again bruh. “