OOC: Sorry if any of this feels clunky or if I fucked up some stuff, I only have my phone available and this is my first Rp wtih Sykes/my first Rp in a few years haha
Scene One: Rigorous "Training"-- The scene opens with a shot of a breathtaking tranquil landscape. Crisp green trees blow in the breeze that ripple through the waters of Dream Lake. Behind them all tower the awe-inspiring New Hampshire White Mountains, mountains that reach up and seemingly penetrating the sky on this gorgeous fall evening.
Then, sitting on a large fixture of rocks that border the lake, contrasting the serene scene is a bulky mass of a man who looks far less picturesque as his surroundings. He sits with one foot up on a rock, his dirty tan cargo shorts revealing thick quads and legs that span down to his hiking boots. A grey long-sleeved waffle shirt sits lazily under a once sleeved but now sleeveless commemorative Rush concert tee. The man peers out over the lake holding a fishing rod in one hand, while occasionally adjusting his backwards Boston Bruins snapback hat that the wind is attempting to nab off his head. Laying comfortably next to him a chubby, older white and brown accented bulldog sleeps soundly. Beside the bulldog sits a cooler and a trash bag that looks like it has some cans stuffed in it, but also some IPA cans that didn't quiet make the bag and are spilling out to the side. The general abrasive look of the man, while a strict opposite of his truly beautiful landscape backdrop, doesn't detract from the quiet peacefulness that fills the scene.
That is, until his phone begins to ring, and the low-quality sound of 50 Cent's "Life on the Line" projects weakly through the Samsung speakers as the man pulls his phone from his pocket with a pained sigh. His face scrunches with aggravation as he looks at the caller ID that reads "The Girl". --
Man: Ahhhhh Jesus Christ, fuck me.
-- His sigh turns into a groan as he interrupts the ring tone and answers the phone quickly, places it on speaker and, shockingly, changes his tone pretty quickly. --
Man: Heyyy girl what's good?
Woman: Hey Ty, I know you said you were going to be training most the day due to your recent booking, but you've been gone for like 4 hours already and I didn't know if I was supposed to make dinner or if you were eating before coming home orrrr...
-- He quickly looks down at his watch and holds the phone away from his mouth, pressing it against his shoulder while tilting his head back in a shamed moment of thought. --
Tyson(under his breath): Godddddd dammit...
Woman: What?
Tyson: Oh, nothin' Kay, I was uh, - talkin' to a kid at the training center. Look, you know it's hard getting time to come in and train with all the restrictions and shit right now. I got that big début coming up and this isn't a fuckin' Highschool gym show man, this could be something big. You're the one whose been talking about moving out of the apartment ya know? This is Pay-per-view Kay, this could get us that house and get us moving towards a family, this one match starts it all. And if you want that then I gotta be in shape, crackin' skulls and caving chests Tyson Sykes, and not sit on the couch and binge watch Netflix documentaries Tyson Sykes, ya know?
Kayla: I know, I know. But like, you're definitely not out or shape. You're in the gym every day Ty.
Tyson: Well yeah but there's a difference between being cut as shit like I always am, and being in wrestling shape. I can't just walk in as Tyson Sykes, I need to walk in as "The Ripper". Look Kayla I know it isn't a glamorous life, but it's important and it's a chance for me to-
Kayla: I know it's important Tyson. I know it is. But you're not "The Ripper" outside of the ring, you're not "The Ripper" to me. You're Tyson. And A.) I've heard this song and dance before, this magical opportunity that's going to change our lives. And the same thing happens every time. You get pissed off and mouth off to the booker, or you quit, or you get into a fight with a fan, or whatever man. Then we're right back to struggling to pay rent and buy food for Holmes, every time your little magic opportunity just disappears.
-- The bulldogs head lazily lifts up at hearing its name, then sleepily lays back down with a hefty dog yawn. --
Kayla: And B.) Like I said, I know this is important to you, but I sometimes; ugh. I don't know. I guess I sometimes wish I was important to you too.
Tyson: You are important to me Kayla. Fuck man you're one of the only things that are important to me. I know you don't believe me but this isn't going to be like before. I know I have a shit attitude but at the end of the day you need to trust that I'll do the right thing for me, for my career, and for us. When push comes to shove, I can make the hard choices, I can put my own wants aside and focus on our needs. I'm a bigger and better man now, an honest man, and I -
-- Suddenly, as if a slap in the face by God himself, Sykes bobber darts under the water and his pole begins to arch drastically. His eyes widen and he once again furrows his brow, knowing he needs to make one of those difficult, right decisions right now. --
Tyson: Ahh shit Kay I gotta run. It ah... It looks like someone just hurt themself training.
Kayla: Oh no, are they OK?
-- Tyson tucks his phone to his ear with his shoulder as he anxiously attempts to jerk and reel his pole. --
Tyson: Yeah; no; I don't know. Gotta go.
Kayla: Oh -, oh OK. So wait hey, did you want me to start dinner or were you grabbing something on your way-
Tyson: Yeahsweetsoundsgood. Catch ya at home girl.
Kayla: OK... I uh, I love y-
-- Tyson quickly fumbles with his phone before hanging up and tossing it on the grass in front of him. He leaps to his feet and Holmes the bulldog hops up in shock at the sudden movement. Sykes jerks the rod again and begins to reel aggressively when suddenly, the pole goes limp. The bobber and fishing line goes flying back towards Tyson and he sees that his bait has been stolen, and his fish has escaped. He slouches his shoulders and kicks some rocks that tumble into the water with a solemn splash. --
Tyson: Ahhhhhh MOTHER FUCKER!
-- Tyson's lip furrows and he takes a deep breath before looking down at Holmes who wags his tail, looking up at Tyson excitedly. --
Tyson: The little prick got away boy.
-- He sighs once more and looks down at his watch again. After a few moments of contemplation he sits back down and pets the pup on the head. --
Tyson: Well, your Momma can figure out dinner on her own Holmes, we got some monsters to slay out here.
-- Holmes happily lays back down and Sykes opens the cooler, snagging another can of IPA while deftly grabbing out some more bait in his other hand and beginning to bait his hook once more. The sound of a line casting, a whistle as the line sails through the air and the bait dives into the water with a satisfying plunk, and the sound of a can opening fills the scene before it goes quiet once more, and fades to black. --
Scene Two: The Return of "The Ripper"
-- We open on an all black screen before suddenly a disclaimer pops onto the screen. --
*** WARNING: The following is not suitable for all audiences. The actions and opinions of Tyson Sykes do not reflect those of PWS Apex. ***
-- The scene fades in on a simple wrestling ring, or at least the far left corner of one. It's extremely dark other than a dim spotlight that illuminates a figure sitting in that corner of the squared circle. Dust rises from the dirty ring and floats in the shine of the bright light, and as the camera gets close enough we see the figure in the ring is Tyson Sykes, complete with his backwards hat and a sleeveless local gym shirt that hangs over his black ring trunks. He looks up at the camera, before looking around the empty dingy ring. --
SYKES: I know it's not glamorous. I know it's not what you picture when you picture a professional wrestler. But this? This is my home, and this is reality.
-- The lights come up just barely, and we can see on the outside of the ring is two rows of empty chairs and one wall of empty wooden bleachers. We cut back close to Tyson. --
SYKES: Now I'm not going to sit and say that I've done anything out of the ordinary, hell I count myself very lucky to have had the coming up that I have, but I think a lot of you boys and girls in the locker room forget just where the hell we came from. Before there were thousands of fans, there were 15 or 20. Before there was big fat pay days, there was just hoping you'd get paid at all, that your booker wouldn't bail before giving you enough gas money to drive home. Before there were dozens of trainees and willing hands setting up, it was us busting ass for hours before the show to put up the chairs and ring, busting our ass tearing it all apart, and waking up happy to do it all again the next day. Before there were fancy pyrotechnics and TV shows and huge Pay-per-views, there was simply just... Wrestling. Again, I'm not saying I'm an abnormality, but I think the bright lights of the fabled PWS legacy may have been a little too blinding, and some of you mother fuckers have forgotten what it's like to be humble.
Don't get it twisted, I'm not saying I'm not happy to be moving up the ranks. I don't show emotion well, or at least the ones people want me to, ask anyone who knows me and they'll tell ya that. So don't think that I'm not more than ecstatic to be debuting for Apex. Fuck man I'll need new wrestling trunks if I get too much more excited, I'll be rippin' through the front of these ones. But I know it's a short ride man, you can't ride the high forever. Hell if I get invited back for a second show I'll be countin' my lucky stars. I understand that I'm not the prototype of what a company wants as their poster boy, I'm not showing up inside a fancy sports car and wearing a new suit, fuck man you'll see me walk my ugly ass all the way to the bank every pay check in the same ratty ass shirt and the same ratty ass pair of gym shorts. I understand I'm not necessarily exactly what PWS Apex wants; but I'll be fucked if I'm not exactly what it needs. I'm going to be the defibrillator that shocks this dead body back to life, and that all starts at Crusade. That all starts... With "Last Chance" Mickey Collins.
Let my start by being very open and very honest, I may be brash and I may run my mouth, but I ain't stupid or delusional and I know talent when I see it. PWS Apex stays true to the legacy of PWS, and they ain't known for letting anyone walk off the street and compete in their ring. I know damn well how good Mickey Collins is. The guys busted his ass a long time and he's fuckin' good, there's no beating around the bush. I know for a fact you know the struggle I talk about Mickey, wrestling in front of nobody over and over just so you'd have film to send to promoters and still be told no. You know all about clawing your way to the top no matter how many people tell you that you can't reach it. And I know you haven't been here long Mickey but I'll be the first to say you've gotten the short end of the stick my man cuz you've got all the tools to make it big. Hell man you even seem like a good dude too, and maybe in a different life instead of having to knock your lights out, we could have chilled and had a beer. But what Mickey you gotta realize, and what everyone is going to have to realize, is no matter how good you are there ain't nobody better, or more dangerous than "The Ripper".
While I may look like just another white trash indy-boy whose mouth may be just a tad too big, I am unlike anything any of you have ever seen before. People want to talk about being hungry? I'm
starving. They wanna talk about being determined? I'm
obsessed. You want to talk about doing whatever it takes to win? Well you're about to find out Mickey just why I'm the most dangerous mother fucker cramming his nuts into a pair of spandex. These blood splatters on my kick pads aren't just for design they're a placeholder, a warning to show you what's going to happen when you step into the ring with me. And trust me when I say I love a good fight, frankly I love getting my ass kicked and I don't want the Mickey who is content just being on the card, I want the Mickey who's going to hand me my ass. All cards on the table I can't wait for us to kick the shit out of each other and steal the show, turn this kick-off Preshow match into the mother fucking main event. Show the rest of the roster that if they're feeling content, if they've been just riding the momentum of previous successes, that they're 15 minutes of fame are up and that some new blood is about to flow through the PWS Apex veins. But, all pleasantries aside, if you don't show up ready to fight for your God damn life? If you disappoint me and bring some of that 'Wait til Next Year' bullshit? I swear to you I'll be adding your blood to the collection on these kick pads. Cuz it don't matter who you are, whether I love or hate you, respect or despise you, you get in my way and I will knock you on your ass. I'd drop my own mother on her head if she tried to step to me in the ring, it's just the way I am. This is a competition, a challenge, and when you back this dog into a corner you best believe he gonna bite your fucking head off.
-- Tyson looks around the ring a moment before using the ropes to stand up. He hops a few times in place to get the blood flowing again and looks out at the empty chairs and the empty arena that looms being him, before turning back to the camera. --
SYKES: Listen to me real close Mickey. Hell, any of the roster listening who have taken their time out of their precious little schedules to stop googling their own name and cranking one out to the results, I advise you listen up too. I will stop at nothing to make my mark on this industry, to take what I've earned and step away from the 20 or 30 seat crowds and put this beatin' and battered face on your TV screen every week. I'm not underestimating anything, I completely understand that I'm making my debut live on Pay-per-view, a Pro Wrestling Smarks Pay-per-view none the less. And I'm making that debut as an absolute nobody to 99% of the people who will be watching; and while I don't give a single, lonely, solitary fuck what any of the cock-suckers rotting in a dusty ass basement who will be illegally streaming the Pay-per-view and then spending their next week on forums talking about how much I suck think of me, I truly do comprehend how big an opportunity this is. The heat is on baby, I get fight or flight when shit hits the fan and spoiler alert, ya boy ain't ever flown yet. Mickey, you clearly know all about being given a shot, and I understand this may very well be your "Last Chance". But you gotta understand this is my first chance, and I only have one chance to make a first impression. And I promise you, with every fiber in my being, I will not blow it this time around.
December 22, 2020 ends one of the shittiest years to date, and I'm sure it's been one of the shittiest for you Mickey cuz it has for me too. But 2020 will forever be remembered as my arrival, one of the biggest matches of my life; and if "The Ripper" truly shows up to Crusade Mickey... 2020 may mark one of the last of yours. There ain't no more waiting til next year boy.
I'll see you in New York, Mickey.
-- Sykes scowls and doesn't break eye contact with the camera for an uncomfortable amount of time. He then quickly jerks his head tearing his focused eyes from the shot. Hoping over the top rope and dropping down to the floor Tyson exits the ring, walks out the gym door, and exits the scene completely. The light stays on for a few moments, highlighting the simple ring, before the loud clang of a spotlight shutting down is heard and the light blacks out ending the scene. --