Post by LJ on Feb 23, 2009 20:03:51 GMT -5
I'm bored so I thought I would post this entry from a tournament I'm in.
The Econo Lodge Motel in Detroit, Michigan, Jonathan Clayton Black in a black overcoat, black leather gloves, black Italian leather shoes, and BSG II shades walks into his room, his arms full of luggage. Behind him in a white fur hat, white fur coat, white leather gloves and white thigh high boots is his personal assistant and girlfriend, Crea Ikari. As John lays down their luggage the two survey the room with looks of disdain on their faces.
Crea: What is this, Jonathan? You're not only one of the top superstars in professional wrestling today. You are a billionaire businessman. How dare they give you accommodations such as these?
John: I do agree, my dear. the accommodations are sub par.
Walking over, Crea picks up a piece paper off the pillow on the bed that lists local restaurants their sponsor will pay for.
Crea: This just gets worse. They are willing to pay for meals at. McDonald's, Taco bell, KFC and Burger King, etc, etc.
She throws the list down in disgust, looking at Jonathan with a look of anger on her face.
Crea: Are you going to protest this, Jonathan?
John: My dear, you are right, I am a Black. These accommodations are beneath me. However, protesting is also beneath a man of my social standings. I shall take actions of my own to rectify the situation right now.
Pressing a button on his silver Rolex watch, a small light shoots up and the holographic image of a proper English butler appears. The image itself is not of a real person, but rather that of Alfred, the AI program that runs Jonathan's penthouse back in Philadelphia.
Alfred: I hope you are finding your accommodations in Detroit to be to your liking, sir.
John: Far from it, Alfred. Here is what I need for you to do. Purchase a limo with driver. Then I will need you to buy a penthouse with full accommodations and inform my brother of my change of plans.
Alfred: Of course sir. Will that be all?
John: For now, Alfred, and thank you.
Alfred: Very well, sir.
As the holographic image fades out Crea lets out a whistle.
Crea: No matter how many times I see it that never ceases to amaze me. I'm sure Rolex would pay millions for the technology you used to upgrade their watch.
He smiles at her nodding his head.
John: Of course they would, my dear. I, however, am not selling. This is one of the perks to having a minor in Computer Science. I get to play with all my fun little toys.
Looking around the room, Jonathan shakes his head.
John: I just wish I could do something about this dismal room.
Crea: I guess we should have seen it coming when Bruce Charming picked us up in that old brown van with the magnetic RK logo on the side.
John: This is true. From the looks of it, Kut has fallen on tough times or has gotten really cheap.
An hour later as the limo driver has finished loading their luggage, he holds open the door for Jonathan and Crea, allowing the couple in before shutting the door behind them. Jonathan reaches into his coat and pulls out a CD. He places it in the CD player. Duke Ellington's “It Don't Mean a Thing (If it Ain't Got That Swing)” begins to play.
Crea: You do love your big band jazz, baby.
John: Yes, I do. There is just something about that era that made the music great.
She snuggles up against him for warmth and smiles up at him.
Crea: Everything is better when I'm with you.
John: I feel the same about you, my dear girl.
Leaning down, he softly kisses her as the limo comes to a stop. Pulling away from her, Jonathan turns off the stereo as the driver comes around opening the door. Jonathan steps out before turning and helping Crea out. As the driver closes the door, the couple makes their way inside the RKW Arena and out of the bitter Detroit cold. They enter the arena and are approached by Bruce Charming, who is dressed in a cheap casual blue suit. He offers a handshake to Jonathan, who accepts.
Bruce: I hope you find your accommodations acceptable, Mr. Black.
Crea: Actually, Mr. Black has purchased a penthouse apartment for the duration of our stay here in Detroit.
She reaches in her purse removing a piece of paper, which she hands to Bruce.
Crea: We can be found at this address.
Bruce: Purchased a penthouse? You have got to be kidding me!
Crea: My employer is a member of one of the richest families in the world. I assure you we are dead serious.
Removing his gloves, jacket and shades, Jonathan hands them to Crea as he stands there in a black Armani suit and tie.
John: Hold these for me, my dear.
Crea: Of course, baby.
Walking to the ring, Jonathan makes his way up the steps and slides between the ropes, signaling to the cameraman that he is ready to start. The cameraman counts down from three to one with his fingers and a red light flashes atop the camera.
John: First, I would like to thank those behind the RoughKut Invitational tournament part five for the invitation to compete. For those who have been living under a rock somewhere, allow me to introduce myself. I'm Jonathan Clayton Black. You, however, may know me better by my ring name, John Clayton. If any one questions my credentials, let me break them down for you. I am a former ICW Blood Champion, three time ICW World Tag Team Champion, two time ICW World Champion, currently the number one contender to the Global Division of Wrestling's World Heavyweight Championship, and a member of the ICW Hall of Fame, all at the age of twenty five.
To be honest, I don't know much about Osirus Blackhart. A few little details I have discovered are that he calls himself the “Unholy Pope.” The man is smaller than I am and looks like some sort of freak. Truth be told, I think he feels hiding facts about him will give him the advantage. Allow me to drop this piece of information on you, Osirus. This past week, I was forced into a gauntlet match where I faced four unknown opponents. I overcame all four of them and one more unknown makes no difference to me.
Keaton Saint, from what little I have gathered, the fans stand behind you. That in itself shows me you are a competitor I can respect. As such, I will hold nothing back and I will give you the fight you deserve, my friend. Hopefully, this will be a match the fans can look forward to. Make no mistake Keaton, I will do whatever it takes to win this match short of cheating. I plan to move on in this tournament and if that means going over Keaton Saint and Osirus Blackhart, then so be it.
Bruce: Cut, cut stop right there.
The camera stops rolling as Jonathan walks over leaning on the ropes.
John: What is the problem?
Bruce: I just got word you failed your drug test in GDW.
John: First of all, the invite I got specifically stated that failing a drug screen does not automatically exclude you from participation. Second, have you gotten back the test I took at Cocentra to enter this tournament?
Bruce: Well, no.
Walking out of the ring, John puts his hand on Bruce's shoulder looking the other man in the eye.
John: When you do, it will prove what I have said all along, the GDW test has been tampered with.
Bruce: But...
John: We will talk later. Crea, let's go.
Placing back on his shades, gloves, and coat Jonathan wraps his arm around the young Japanese woman’s waist as they walk towards the exit.
A short while later after signing the lease on his newly furnished penthouse apartment, Jonathan and Crea walk into the main room which is covered with red carpet with a red couch, a coffee table, a flat screen television on the wall, and a fireplace on the far wall. Sitting atop the coffee table in a bucket of ice is a two-liter bottle of grape soda. Next to it is a box of chocolate donuts. John just grins and shakes his head.
Crea; You don't think?
John: Only one person would bring such a house-warming gift.
Voice: You know it, little brother.
Looking over, John sees his older brother, LJ, in a white button down shirt and tie, black slacks, and black leather Italian loafers carrying four wineglasses. Behind him walks his wife, Trinity, in a white sweater, black skirt, and black thigh high boots.
John: What are you two doing here?
Trin: We have come to support you, of course. The Black Corp. stable sticks together. Speaking of which, Kayla could not make it, but she sends her best. In the morning, there is someone else who wants to wish her Uncle Jonathan good luck. Right now though, Stacy is asleep in the guest room.
Crea: Good, because we insist you stay here with us.
Trin: We don't want to impose.
Crea: We insist. Right, Jonathan?
When he does not speak up right away, Crea elbows Jonathan in the side.
John: Oh yes, we insist. What about Black Corp. the company though?
LJ: Don't worry. We can conduct business from here in Detroit. Besides with the Wes Corp. merger stalled, there is not much for us to focus on at the moment
Laying down the glasses, LJ pours the grape soda into each glass before offering one to each of the ladies and Jonathan.
LJ: A toast to my little brother, Jonathan Clayton Black. May he overcome Osirus Blackhart and Keaton Saint on his way to winning The RoughKut Invitational tournament part five.
All four raise their glasses and click them together
All: Here, here.
As they finish their toast by taking a drink, we slowly fade to black.
The Econo Lodge Motel in Detroit, Michigan, Jonathan Clayton Black in a black overcoat, black leather gloves, black Italian leather shoes, and BSG II shades walks into his room, his arms full of luggage. Behind him in a white fur hat, white fur coat, white leather gloves and white thigh high boots is his personal assistant and girlfriend, Crea Ikari. As John lays down their luggage the two survey the room with looks of disdain on their faces.
Crea: What is this, Jonathan? You're not only one of the top superstars in professional wrestling today. You are a billionaire businessman. How dare they give you accommodations such as these?
John: I do agree, my dear. the accommodations are sub par.
Walking over, Crea picks up a piece paper off the pillow on the bed that lists local restaurants their sponsor will pay for.
Crea: This just gets worse. They are willing to pay for meals at. McDonald's, Taco bell, KFC and Burger King, etc, etc.
She throws the list down in disgust, looking at Jonathan with a look of anger on her face.
Crea: Are you going to protest this, Jonathan?
John: My dear, you are right, I am a Black. These accommodations are beneath me. However, protesting is also beneath a man of my social standings. I shall take actions of my own to rectify the situation right now.
Pressing a button on his silver Rolex watch, a small light shoots up and the holographic image of a proper English butler appears. The image itself is not of a real person, but rather that of Alfred, the AI program that runs Jonathan's penthouse back in Philadelphia.
Alfred: I hope you are finding your accommodations in Detroit to be to your liking, sir.
John: Far from it, Alfred. Here is what I need for you to do. Purchase a limo with driver. Then I will need you to buy a penthouse with full accommodations and inform my brother of my change of plans.
Alfred: Of course sir. Will that be all?
John: For now, Alfred, and thank you.
Alfred: Very well, sir.
As the holographic image fades out Crea lets out a whistle.
Crea: No matter how many times I see it that never ceases to amaze me. I'm sure Rolex would pay millions for the technology you used to upgrade their watch.
He smiles at her nodding his head.
John: Of course they would, my dear. I, however, am not selling. This is one of the perks to having a minor in Computer Science. I get to play with all my fun little toys.
Looking around the room, Jonathan shakes his head.
John: I just wish I could do something about this dismal room.
Crea: I guess we should have seen it coming when Bruce Charming picked us up in that old brown van with the magnetic RK logo on the side.
John: This is true. From the looks of it, Kut has fallen on tough times or has gotten really cheap.
An hour later as the limo driver has finished loading their luggage, he holds open the door for Jonathan and Crea, allowing the couple in before shutting the door behind them. Jonathan reaches into his coat and pulls out a CD. He places it in the CD player. Duke Ellington's “It Don't Mean a Thing (If it Ain't Got That Swing)” begins to play.
Crea: You do love your big band jazz, baby.
John: Yes, I do. There is just something about that era that made the music great.
She snuggles up against him for warmth and smiles up at him.
Crea: Everything is better when I'm with you.
John: I feel the same about you, my dear girl.
Leaning down, he softly kisses her as the limo comes to a stop. Pulling away from her, Jonathan turns off the stereo as the driver comes around opening the door. Jonathan steps out before turning and helping Crea out. As the driver closes the door, the couple makes their way inside the RKW Arena and out of the bitter Detroit cold. They enter the arena and are approached by Bruce Charming, who is dressed in a cheap casual blue suit. He offers a handshake to Jonathan, who accepts.
Bruce: I hope you find your accommodations acceptable, Mr. Black.
Crea: Actually, Mr. Black has purchased a penthouse apartment for the duration of our stay here in Detroit.
She reaches in her purse removing a piece of paper, which she hands to Bruce.
Crea: We can be found at this address.
Bruce: Purchased a penthouse? You have got to be kidding me!
Crea: My employer is a member of one of the richest families in the world. I assure you we are dead serious.
Removing his gloves, jacket and shades, Jonathan hands them to Crea as he stands there in a black Armani suit and tie.
John: Hold these for me, my dear.
Crea: Of course, baby.
Walking to the ring, Jonathan makes his way up the steps and slides between the ropes, signaling to the cameraman that he is ready to start. The cameraman counts down from three to one with his fingers and a red light flashes atop the camera.
John: First, I would like to thank those behind the RoughKut Invitational tournament part five for the invitation to compete. For those who have been living under a rock somewhere, allow me to introduce myself. I'm Jonathan Clayton Black. You, however, may know me better by my ring name, John Clayton. If any one questions my credentials, let me break them down for you. I am a former ICW Blood Champion, three time ICW World Tag Team Champion, two time ICW World Champion, currently the number one contender to the Global Division of Wrestling's World Heavyweight Championship, and a member of the ICW Hall of Fame, all at the age of twenty five.
To be honest, I don't know much about Osirus Blackhart. A few little details I have discovered are that he calls himself the “Unholy Pope.” The man is smaller than I am and looks like some sort of freak. Truth be told, I think he feels hiding facts about him will give him the advantage. Allow me to drop this piece of information on you, Osirus. This past week, I was forced into a gauntlet match where I faced four unknown opponents. I overcame all four of them and one more unknown makes no difference to me.
Keaton Saint, from what little I have gathered, the fans stand behind you. That in itself shows me you are a competitor I can respect. As such, I will hold nothing back and I will give you the fight you deserve, my friend. Hopefully, this will be a match the fans can look forward to. Make no mistake Keaton, I will do whatever it takes to win this match short of cheating. I plan to move on in this tournament and if that means going over Keaton Saint and Osirus Blackhart, then so be it.
Bruce: Cut, cut stop right there.
The camera stops rolling as Jonathan walks over leaning on the ropes.
John: What is the problem?
Bruce: I just got word you failed your drug test in GDW.
John: First of all, the invite I got specifically stated that failing a drug screen does not automatically exclude you from participation. Second, have you gotten back the test I took at Cocentra to enter this tournament?
Bruce: Well, no.
Walking out of the ring, John puts his hand on Bruce's shoulder looking the other man in the eye.
John: When you do, it will prove what I have said all along, the GDW test has been tampered with.
Bruce: But...
John: We will talk later. Crea, let's go.
Placing back on his shades, gloves, and coat Jonathan wraps his arm around the young Japanese woman’s waist as they walk towards the exit.
A short while later after signing the lease on his newly furnished penthouse apartment, Jonathan and Crea walk into the main room which is covered with red carpet with a red couch, a coffee table, a flat screen television on the wall, and a fireplace on the far wall. Sitting atop the coffee table in a bucket of ice is a two-liter bottle of grape soda. Next to it is a box of chocolate donuts. John just grins and shakes his head.
Crea; You don't think?
John: Only one person would bring such a house-warming gift.
Voice: You know it, little brother.
Looking over, John sees his older brother, LJ, in a white button down shirt and tie, black slacks, and black leather Italian loafers carrying four wineglasses. Behind him walks his wife, Trinity, in a white sweater, black skirt, and black thigh high boots.
John: What are you two doing here?
Trin: We have come to support you, of course. The Black Corp. stable sticks together. Speaking of which, Kayla could not make it, but she sends her best. In the morning, there is someone else who wants to wish her Uncle Jonathan good luck. Right now though, Stacy is asleep in the guest room.
Crea: Good, because we insist you stay here with us.
Trin: We don't want to impose.
Crea: We insist. Right, Jonathan?
When he does not speak up right away, Crea elbows Jonathan in the side.
John: Oh yes, we insist. What about Black Corp. the company though?
LJ: Don't worry. We can conduct business from here in Detroit. Besides with the Wes Corp. merger stalled, there is not much for us to focus on at the moment
Laying down the glasses, LJ pours the grape soda into each glass before offering one to each of the ladies and Jonathan.
LJ: A toast to my little brother, Jonathan Clayton Black. May he overcome Osirus Blackhart and Keaton Saint on his way to winning The RoughKut Invitational tournament part five.
All four raise their glasses and click them together
All: Here, here.
As they finish their toast by taking a drink, we slowly fade to black.