Author Topic: DRAKE GREEN vs RAGE  (Read 1466 times)

Offline Christian Underwood

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DRAKE GREEN vs RAGE
« on: August 31, 2014, 10:30:37 PM »
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“To err is human - but it feels divine.”
? Mae West

Offline Jake Sullivan

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    • Jake Sullivan
DRAKE GREEN vs RAGE
« Reply #1 on: September 05, 2014, 05:20:37 PM »
 
******************************

September fourteenth.  That is the day that will go down in the record books as the day that not only I won the SCW Heavyweight Championship for a second time, but also...as the day that Drake Green's career finally ended.  September fourteenth is the day that Mr. Showtime is canceled once and for all and he has only himself to blame.

You hear that Drake?  You issued this challenge.  You chose to go into Violent Conduct II to face me in a tables ladders and chairs match, and once I'm through with you, you're going to regret it.  You don't stand a chance, Drake.  You want to break me down?  You want to destroy me?  Newsflash, you can't.  And just a few weeks ago you ran your mouth saying you want to know just who I am.  You want to know who I was as a kid.  Bitch, finding out anything about my past won't help you any.  Who I was back then doesn't matter because all that matters is who I am now.

I'm the angry mother fucker that's going to destroy you and your career.


******************************


Wednesday September 3rd
Location: Unknown
**OFF CAMERA**


"Are you sure you want to do this, Rage?"

Kittie follows behind Rage as they exit the plane.  Rage doesn't even turn around to face her as he keeps walking.  He has a bandage covering his forehead, presumably from the beat down he received from Drake Green just a few days ago.

Kittie: We've got less than two weeks to get you ready for your match against Drake Green and doing this shit now is only going to be one big distraction.

Rage: If you've got a problem with what I do, Kittie, you didn't have to come with.  You could have stayed in Arizona with the others.

Kittie narrows her eyes angrily and she grabs a hold of Rage's arm.  He may be bigger and stronger than her, but she still manages to stop him from taking another step, and he spins around, glaring at her.

Kittie: Like I'm going to let you deal with this shit by yourself?  Synn wouldn't allow it anyway.

Rage: Synn's not my fucking keeper, Kittie.  And neither are you.  This shit is my personal business and I don't know you following me around!  

Kittie: What is this going to accomplish, Rage?  What is coming here to see someone who may or may not be your father as he takes his last breath?  That blonde bitch claiming to be your sister doesn't give a shit how much is at stake for you in less than two weeks, does she?  All she gives a shit about is her dying father and making your life a living hell.  As if they hadn't done that enough already.

Rage closes his eyes and draws in a slow deep breath.  He brings his hands to his head and rubs his temples, trying to make the headache that Kittie has just given him go away.

Rage: Look, I don't know how the fuck I'm supposed to explain it, but there's no doubt in my mind that she's my sister, and I need to see for myself if the rest of them are alive.  She says they are, but I need to see for myself because I need the fucking answers, Kittie.  I...I've lived the past twenty years or so of my life thinking they were dead...thinking that I had killed them, and I need to know why the fuck they aren't dead.  

Several other people brush past Rage and Kittie as they get into a conversation Rage just wasn't ready to have.  Kittie shakes her head and looks up at Rage.

Kittie: Fine...you believe she's your sister.  That's all good and well, but can't you stop to think about why she turned up after so long?  Sure she says it has to do with the fact that her father is dying, but why the fuck does that matter to you?  If he's dying, he's dying.  You thought he was dead, so just let the douchebag die and stay far away from him.

Rage: It's not that simple, Kittie.  I need to do this.  I need to see that bastard before he dies.  I need to see the rest of them.

Kittie: Why?  Why do you need to see them, Rage?  They're not your family anymore!

Rage shakes his head as he thinks about the answer to that question.  He's not even sure if he knows the right answer to that as he throws his hands in the air.

Rage: It's complicated, okay?  It's just something I need to do.  So, if you have a problem with it why don't you just fly back to Arizona and let me deal with it on my own.  Otherwise, just stand back and let me handle it and don't say a fucking word.

Kittie narrows her eyes and shakes her head.

Kittie: I'm not going back to Arizona.  Not without you, anyway.  

Rage: Fine.  Then just keep your mouth shut and let me do this.  

Kittie: Fine.  I still don't think it's a good idea, but what the hell do I know?

Rage growls before he walks off towards the baggage claim, with Kittie following behind him.  Neither notices, or has any idea, that a familiar crazy red-head is following at a distance behind them, watching them from afar...

******************************


**OFF CAMERA**

A few clouds line the sky over this modest neighborhood that Rage never imagined he would be visiting, much less with a babysitter, a.k.a Kittie.  He pulls their rental car up in front of the rather large grey colored two store home with white shutters and a porch that wraps around the whole house.  A three car garage is connected to the home on it's left side and a sidewalk leads up to the front porch.  Rage cuts the engine and he and Kittie glance at the house.

Kittie: Seems like they haven't been doing too bad for themselves all these years.  Granted it's just a fraction of the size of Synn's place, but it's...homey.

Rage: Like I give a shit?  I'm not here to compliment them on what a cute home they have or how well they've been doing all these years, Kittie, and I suggest you not do the same.

Kittie: I've got no reason to, peanut head.  They're not my family anymore than they are yours.  I'm just tagging along to make sure you don't do something stupid.

Rage lets out a snorting laugh and glares at Kittie from the corner of his eye before he looks back to the house.

Rage: Stupid like what?  

Kittie: Oh, I don't know...Maybe finish what you thought you started when you were a kid, which by the way, you're still very hush hush on.  Are you ever going to tell us anything that you remember?

Rage stays silent, choosing not to answer that question.  He takes the keys out of the ignition and opens the door, stepping out of the car.  Kittie follows suit, but she looks at Rage who is just leaning against the rental car staring at the house.

Kittie: Are you sure about this, Rage?  You don't have to be here.  We can get back in the car and leave...

Rage: We're not leaving, Kittie.  I'm already here, so I may as well get this shit over with because I'm not wasting another trip out here.  

Kittie holds her hands up in defeat.  Rage slams the car door shut and walks around the car to the sidewalk.  He takes a deep breath before he slowly makes his way up the sidewalk and to the front door with Kittie following closely and quietly behind him.  He doesn't even need to ring the doorbell or knock on the front door as it swings open and he is greeted by his older sister, Ashley.

Ashley: You're here.  I...I didn't think you were going to come.

Rage: Don't even think about thanking me, because I really didn't want to come to this place.  

Ashley glances behind Rage at Kittie and nods, not thrilled to see her there.

Ashley: I see you brought your girlfriend...

Kittie rolls her eyes and pretends to gag herself, but she doesn't respond.  Rage looks back at her and shakes his head.

Rage: She's not my girlfriend. She's more like an annoying little sister who feels the need to tag along everywhere.

Ashley: She seems rather...protective...to be like a sister.  

Kittie then steps around Rage, standing between him and Ashley.  She snarls at Ashley, giving her a very threatening look.

Kittie: And what the fuck do you know about family, bitch?  Last I heard you and this pathetic family of yours was supposed to be long dead, yet you let over twenty years go by before you show your disgusting face again.

Ashley: Tell me...Kittie, is it?

Kittie continues to glare at Ashley.

Ashley: How much of what happened when Jake was little has he told you?  What has he told any of you about what he thinks happened?

Rage: How many times do I have to tell you that my name isn't Jake anymore.

Ashley: Maybe not to you, but deep down, that is who you are.  You're my baby brother.  You're Jacob Michael Sullivan.  

Kittie tries to hold back a laugh, but she fails.  Rage glares down at her.

Rage: Not another word, Kittie. And Ashley...shut the fuck up.  What I have or haven't told my family is none of your business, nor does it even matter at this point, right?  

Ashley: Apparently not.  Now, are we going to stand here and argue on my front porch or would you like to come inside?

Ashley opens the door and steps aside, giving Rage and Kittie permission and room to enter the house.  Rage takes in a deep breath and Kittie stares at him until he finally steps inside.  Ashley motions for Kittie to do the same and she does, all be it reluctantly.

Ashley: I thought you would call ahead of time.  As I said, I wasn't expecting you.

Ashley closes the front door and watches as Rage and Kittie look around the spacious front living room.  Family pictures line the wall, and one in particular catches Rage's eye.  He walks over to the picture.  A complete family photo with him as a child.  As he stares at the picture, Kittie walks up next to him and glances at the picture.

Kittie: Is that...you?

Kittie points to the older of the two boys in the photo and Ashley walks up, standing on the other side of Rage.  She smiles and nods.

Ashley: Yes, that's Jake.  This is the last family photo with Jake in it before...

Ashley quickly trails off before she has a chance to take a trip down memory lane.  Rage starts shaking a bit as he clenches his fists at his side until his anger boils over and he punches the picture, shattering the glass and causing the picture to fall to the floor.  He turns and storms away from the wall of pictures as Ashley looks down at the broken frame and Kittie shakes her head as she follows Rage.

Ashley: Look, I'm sorry if this is all bringing up painful memories for you Jake--

Rage: This is your last warning, bitch.  Stop calling me by that name!

Rage spins around quickly and has a dark menacing look.  Kittie places a hand on his back, trying to calm him down just a bit but he pulls away, turns around and starts pulling at his hair.  Kittie glares at Ashley and folds her arms.

Kittie: Do you see what you're doing to him?  This isn't just painful memories you dumbass.

Ashley: I'm sorry, I don't see how any of this is your business.  This is family business, which you are not.  

Kittie takes a threatening step towards Ashley, getting into her face.  Ashley is able to hold her own however, and doesn't allow herself to be intimidated by the feisty Sin of Envy.

Kittie: You people have no concept of family.  In fact, how do we even know that the rest of them are still alive.  So far, the only person he's seen is you...

Ashley: Not that it's any of your business, but our younger brother, Phillip, is at work and our mother is out running some errands.

Kittie: And your supposed dying father?  Where's he?  Unless he finally kicked the bucket and he's in the ground where he should be...

Kittie is taken by surprise as Ashley hauls off and SLAPS Kittie across the face.  Kittie's head snaps to the side, causing her hair to fly over her face.  She keeps her head in that position for a while as Ashley points at her, warning her.

Ashley: Don't you EVER speak about my father that way!  You know nothing about him!

When Kittie starts growling and breathing heavily, Rage realizes he has to get involved and quickly.  He does so just in the nick of time as Kittie attempts to lunge at Ashley, claws out and growling ferociously.  Rage holds her back and Ashley jumps back.

Rage: Kittie...Kittie!  STOP!

Rage places Kittie down but Ashley has already reached for the phone and Rage looks at her as he stands between the two.

Rage: What the hell are you doing?!

Ashley: I'm calling the police!  She tried to attack me!

Rage yanks the phone out of Ashley's hand and sets it down.  Ashley looks at him in shock but he looks back and forth between the two.

Rage: No, you're not.  You slapped her first so she had every right to defend herself, and quite frankly, I should have let her.  Kittie...do me a favor.  Take your ass out to the car and wait for me.  You don't need to be here.

Kittie's jaw drops open and her eyes widen as she stares at Rage.  She shakes her head, refusing.

Kittie: You're...You're joking, right?  That bitch is really getting inside your head...

Rage: Kittie, just fucking GO!  

Rage holds out the car keys to Kittie and she stares at him, waiting for him to change his mind but he doesn't.  He points to the front door, and Kittie has no choice but to obey his orders.  She glares at Ashley one last time, and Ashley just gives her a satisfied smirk.  Kittie flips her off before she storms out of the house and back out to the car.  Rage, meanwhile, takes in a deep breath as he plops down on the sofa, burying his head in his hands.  Ashley walks over and takes a seat next to him, placing her hand on his back, but he doesn't take too kindly to this.  He jumps away from her, giving her a look that tells her not to do that again.

Ashley: I'm sorry. But I have to ask...Are you ready to see him?

Rage slowly lowers his hands, placing them on his knees.  Ashley waits for an answer as he slowly lifts his head and looks at her.  The look on his face is one that we've never seen.  It's almost a mixture of sadness and fear.

Ashley: He's just in the room down the hall...

Rage: Why....Why the fuck are you doing this to me?

Ashley: Because it's been way too long Ja...Rage.  This should have been done a long time ago.

Ashley then gets back to her feet, standing right in front of Rage.  She looks down at him with a sincere smile on her face.

Ashley: Come on...Come see Dad.

Rage closes his eyes really deciding if this is something he should do.  After a moment he opens his eyes and gets to his feet, looking at Ashley.  She wants to smile, but given the circumstances she feels it is better not to as she starts walking out of the living room towards a hallway leading to her father's room.  Rage slowly follows behind her, not really sure what to expect to walk into.

Meanwhile, out in the car, Kittie has rolled down the windows and has the radio blasting.  She's leaning back in the passenger seat with her arms folded across her chest as she waits as patiently as she can for Rage.  The look on her face, however, shows that she's not at all thrilled with his decision.  Just then her cell phone rings and she reaches into her pocket and takes it out.  The caller i.d shows that it is Synn calling, presumably to check on the situation.


Kittie: Hey Synn...How's things going?  Why don't you try calling Rage's phone...No!  The angry bastard kicked me out of the house so he's in there all alone.  Well, with his blonde bimbo sister and half-dead father...What makes you think I did---

Kittie's voice trails off as another vehicle pulls into the driveway and up to the garage.  The driver's side door opens and an older woman steps out, walking towards the back of the car where she removes a few bags of groceries.  Kittie automatically assumes the woman is Rage's mother.

Kittie: Shit.  Synn, I'm gonna have to call you back...I'll explain later!

Kittie quickly ends the call, returning her phone to her pocket.  She considers getting out of the car, but quickly changes her mind as the woman heads towards the front door, walking inside.  She bites her lip as she expects the worse and she can only sit back and wait.  Several minutes go by before Rage comes darting out of the house and towards the car without looking back.

******************************

The last couple of weeks our current SCW Heavyweight Champion, Mr. Showtime, has been pretty damn quiet.  Aside from trying to act like a bad ass tough guy on Climax Control in Mesa, what else has your favorite champ had to say?  Huh?  He's been awfully quiet on Twitter, but I bet I can make a couple guesses as to why.

You see, Drake is probably out there trying to dig up some dirt on me.  There's no doubt in my mind that he's trying to find out whatever he can about my past, because as he said, I've made this personal.  Here's some news for you, Drake.  You're not going to find out shit.  My identity from my childhood is NOT who I am today and if you think you can find out anything, by all means go ahead and try.  It'll be a hell of a lot easier for me to unbury the skeletons in your closet, won't it?  

It'll be a lot easier for me to go visit that pretty little sister of yours or perhaps your stepmother.  If you want to make this personal, go right ahead, Drake.  But it'll only come back to bite you in the ass because YOU have made your story known.  YOU have put your life into the spotlight.  YOU have made yourself vulnerable, Drake.  Not me.  

The choice is yours, Drake.  How we place this game is completely up to you, but I'd think long and hard before you make a decision, because when push comes to shove...I'm a lot more dangerous than you think.


******************************


Kittie stands outside Rage's hotel room, debating on whether or not she should knock.  He had made it very clear on the ride to the hotel that he didn't want to talk about anything that happened at his family's home.  Kittie had noticed Rage's mother running out of the front door, trying to chase after him as they sped away in the car, but for once, it was clear that this was a subject best left alone for a while.  

But she wasn't sure how long to leave it alone.  She had spoken to Synn once they got checked in, giving him an update on what she could tell had happened, and with his urging, she had to get as much information out of him as possible.  So she left him alone for several hours before she stepped out of her hotel room and headed towards his.  

After taking in a deep breath and exhaling, she built up the courage to knock on his door, but she knew not to expect any answer right away.  And she was right.  So she knocked again.


Kittie: Rage, come on.  We need to talk.

Nothing.  No sounds of movement and not so much as a "fuck you" came from inside the room.  Kittie knocks again, calmly trying to get through to him.

Kittie: Why don't we just move our flight back to Arizona sooner?  I know you don't want to be here anymore...

Again nothing.  Kittie looks towards the floor, trying to think of what she can do.  Normally she would get angry and annoying just to piss Rage off, but she couldn't find it in her to do that now.

Kittie: I know you're in there!  Can't you tell that I'm not going to do anything to piss you off?!  You just need to talk about this.  I need to know what happened.

Finally Kittie hears some movement from within the room.  She takes a step back from the door with a confused look on her face as she hears some stumbling and glass bottles clinking, followed by some growling and obscenities until the door finally open.  A shirtless Rage leans against the door frame, looking rather disheveled.  Kittie's jaw drops as she stares at him in disbelief, but speechless.

Rage: W-what...*hiccup* do you wantt?

Rage's words are noticeably slurred and when Kittie takes a step forward she waves her hand in front of her face after getting a good whiff of him.

Kittie: Jesus Christ...You're drunk?!

Rage grins.  When he tries to laugh it comes out mixed with an obnoxious belch and Kittie just shakes her head.

Rage: Yeaahh...What's it to ya, Kittie Kat?

He belches again before he tries to stand up straight and turn around.  His stumbles, however, as he heads back into the room with Kittie following behind him.  When she gets a good look of the room, she's left nearly speechless again.  Empty beer bottles are scattered around the room, and the mini-fridge is nearly emptied as well.  That *used* to consist of several mini bottles of vodka, tequila and the like, but Rage consumed every alcoholic beverage he could find.

Kittie: What...the...fuck?  Rage, you're taking letting this bullshit with that former family of yours get to you way too much.  Look at you!

Rage loses his footing as he trips over a few empty bottles of beer.  He picks up a bottle he thinks has something left in it, attempting to drink it.  When he realizes it's empty, he tosses the bottle back down and crashes onto the bed, rolling over on to his back.

Rage: Yer point?  Make youselfff usefulll and go buy me some more beer!

Kittie: Fuck you!  I'm not your bitch!  And you don't need anymore beer.  You smell like you took a bath in that shit and I only left you alone for four hours!

Rage laughs again and sits up.  He sways back and forth as the room starts to spin and he holds his head.

Rage: Ooh...Sooo you guysss can mmmake me YOUR bitch but *hiccups* I can't do the saaame?

Rage glares at Kittie and she glares right back.  She's absolutely furious with him right now.

Kittie: That's absolute bullshit and you know it!  What the fuck is your problem?  What the hell happened in that house?!  And trust me when I say if you don't tell me, I'll go back and find out myself!

Rage: Gooo then.  Cuzzz I ain't sayin' sheet!

Rage laughs again as he continues to slur and mix up his words.  Kittie shakes her head and snarls before she spins and tries to head towards the door.  Rage's eyes widen and he quickly gets back to his feet, nearly tripping in the process.  He grabs a hold of Kittie's arm, stopping her.

Rage: Waiiit...D-don't!  

Kittie turns around and looks up at Rage.  She can see the pleading look in his eyes.

Kittie: Whatever happened...whatever it is that you're hiding, you can tell me, Rage.  You can tell all of us!  Shit, it's not like any of us have a squeaky clean past.

Rage: I...I know.  I just...don't wanna talk about iiiit tonight.

Kittie: Yeah, you'd rather drown your sorrows.  You might as well kiss---

Kittie is suddenly cut off quickly as Rage grabs a hold of her face and leans down planting a kiss on her!  Shocked and taken off guard, she struggles, wanting nothing to do with the kiss until she finally knees him right where it hurts then shoves him away.  Given his current state of inebriation, this comes rather easily.

Kittie: What the FUCK?!  Have you lost your mind?!

Rage falls to one knee, and wincing, he looks up at her.

Rage: Fuuuck...Yoou wanted me to...kiss you!

Kittie: What?!  Like hell I did!  I was trying to say you might as well kiss any chance of winning the Heavyweight title goodbye before you decided to stick your tongue down my throat!  Disgusting!

Kittie furiously wipes her mouth, trying to get the taste away.

Kittie: If you're that fucking desperate for a piece of ass, why don't you just call you fire crotched fuck buddy, Electra.  I'm sure she'd have no problem pleasuring you even though you're drunk as shit.  

Rage doesn't even respond.  He has run out of things to say and he makes his way over and pulls himself up on to the bed.  He plops down on his stomach, grunting and growling as Kittie rolls her eyes and shakes her head.  She walks out of the room, taking her cell phone out and dialing a number.

Kittie: Synn, we have a huge fucking problem and I think you should get here...Well then send Shane because I'm not gonna be able to deal with this by myself...Yeah, let me know soon.

Kittie ends the call and closes her eyes.  She sighs loudly before she growls and storms off down the hall heading back to her own room.

******************************


It's the following morning and not much has changed in the way of Rage's current state.  He's still locked in his hotel room refusing, or pretty much unable to speak to Kittie.  Thankfully for Kittie, however, she's now got some help.  Help in the form of the Sin of Pride, "Sxxxy" Shane Boswell and the Sin of Lust, Fantasia.  After receiving a phone call from Synn, Shane and Fantasia boarded a plane to where ever Rage and Kittie currently were.  Kittie met the two in the lobby of the hotel and they had managed to get a second key to Rage's room.

Shane: You two stay here.  If I need anything I'll call ya.  Hopefully it won't come to that, though.

Shane looked at Kittie and Fantasia as he waited for the elevator doors to open.

Kittie: Do me a favor and kick his ass for me.  

Shane: I was under the impression that you lumped him in the gooleys pretty good last night?

Shane cracks a smile and Kittie's eyes widen.

Kittie: Fuck..Synn told you?!

Shane nods and Fantasia even chuckles a bit.

Shane: Of course he told me.  I had to know what the hell I was walking in to.  Don't worry, though.  I won't let our peanut headed friend live that down.

Fantasia: If you ask me, drunk or not, he kissed her for a reason.

Kittie: Please, let's not talk about this anymore.  I'd really rather not see my breakfast again...

The elevator doors then ding open and Shane steps inside, hitting the button for the appropriate floor.  He waves at Kittie with a grin and she just flips him off before she and Fantasia head off to wait for word on the situation.  The elevator goes up a few floors before it dings open once again and Shane walks out searching for Rage's room.  He passes several rooms before he stops in front of room 426.  He doesn't even bother knocking and inserts the key card into the slot, unlocking the door.  

When he walks inside he can smell the booze in the room.  He checks the bathroom, making sure Rage didn't manage to wake up in the middle of the night and pass out over the toilet.  He's relieved to see the big man isn't in there, but shakes his head when he finds Rage's jeans on the floor instead.


Shane: Bloody hell...

He backs out of the bathroom and heads further into the room and nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees Rage passed out on the bed, butt naked!  Shane shields his eyes and yells at Rage.

Shane: Christ mate!  Get ya damn pants on!  I don't need to see that shit in the morning!

Hearing Shane's booming voice startles the big man so much he jumps up and falls off the bed.  He hits his head on the night stand in the process and grabs his head in pain.

Rage: OW!  FUCK!  

He looks around, dazed and confused in his hungover state and when he sees Shane's back turned to him he squints his eyes making sure he's seeing things right.

Rage: Shane?  What the fuck are you doing here?!

Shane: I'll be more than happy to answer that if ya cover ya tonsil tickler up.  I'm not turning around until it's safe...

Rage looks at himself, suddenly realize he's naked.  He covers himself with his hands and looks around.

Rage: Shit!  Where the fuck are my pants?!

Shane: I saw them in the bathroom.

Rage: Can ya go get them for me unless you want to see my bare ass running by you.  Which I'd rather not anyway..

Shane holds his hand up, saying he'll go get Rage's pants.  A few moments later he emerges from the bathroom, shielding his eyes and he tosses Rage's pants in his direction.  He hears some shuffling around, followed by the zipper of Rage's pants.

Shane: Don't let Synn know ya go commando, bud.  That could be very dangerous for you.

Rage: I think it would have been more dangerous if he had walked in and found me like this instead of you.

Shane laughs and nods, still shielding his eyes.

Rage: You can open your eyes dumbass.  

Shane peeks through his hand, making sure Rage isn't lying.  When he sees that he's got his pants back on, he lowers his hand and looks around the room, shocked at what he sees.  Rage looks around also, running his hand through his disheveled hair in confusion.

Rage: Fuck...Shane, why the hell are you here?

Shane: You really need to ask that?  Look at this room.  Kittie called Synn last night saying she needed help so he sent me.

Rage: Shit I'm really glad Synn didn't decided to come here himself.

Shane: Yeah, lucky for you he's been watching Despy like a hawk the last couple of weeks since the incident at his mum's.  If he wasn't, ya might have had a repeat of your induction into the Sins...

Shane grins and chuckles, but one menacing glare from Rage makes him go quiet.  Rage sits down on the bed and holds his head, now starting to feel the hangover headache.

Rage: Where's Kittie?

Shane: She's downstairs with Fantasia.  If I were you, though, I wouldn't try and approach her.  She's pretty pissed.

Rage: Why?  I got drunk, so what?

Shane rubs his head and lets out an awkward laugh.  Rage looks at him curiously.

Rage: What?  What the fuck aren't you telling me?

Shane: Yeah, that's not the only thing ya did, mate.  You, uh...You kissed her...

Rage's eyes nearly bulge out of his head and his jaw drops.  He thinks for a moment, trying to remember anything about last night, but he can't yet.

Rage: Shit...Wait...Please tell me that she and I didn't...

Rage trails off and Shane gets the hint of where Rage was going with that question.  He shakes his head, quickly putting off that idea.

Shane: Bloody hell, I hope not.  If ya did, she's not saying anything about it.  From what I understand, ya pissed her off when ya shoved your tongue down her throat and she kneed ya in the crackers.  

Rage lets out a sigh of relief, but shakes his head, still in shock over finding out what he did.  In his mind, he knows Kittie will be pissed off for quite some time and she'll let him know it, too.  He takes in a deep breath and goes speechless, but Shane looks around the room, then back to Rage.

Shane: What the hell is going on, bud?  I've never seen you get so plastered before so I know something serious is going on.

Rage looks up, surprised.  He thought for sure Shane would have been told about his family situation by now.

Rage: You're telling me Synn and Kittie haven't told you?  Better yet, Despayre hasn't said anything, because he knows, too.

Shane shakes his head.

Shane: Nope.  Haven't been told a thing, bud.  Synn just said it was a personal matter that you would tell everyone when you were ready.  Now judging by this mess, I think now is the proper time to tell me everything, because if you don't, I'll just find out from Kittie.

Rage shakes his head, not ready to get into this conversation.  Especially not after what happened yesterday with his "family."  Shane stares at him, waiting for answers.  Rage finally has no choice but to fess up.

Rage: Apparently the family I thought was dead and buried for the past twenty five years is very much alive and well.  Well...except dear old dad who's currently on his deathbed as we speak, if he hasn't already kicked the bucket anyway.

Shane is shocked to hear this, but he keeps a calm look on his face, if only to keep the tension in the room at a minimal level.  He folds his arms and leans against the dresser.

Shane: Damn, mate, that's some serious stuff.  I take it that is why you and Kittie flew here?

Rage nods.

Rage: Yeah.  I've been debating it for weeks but my...sister...obviously wasn't gonna let up and leave me alone until I gave in and came to see that bastard before he dies.  

Shane: And you did?  

Rage just looks up at Shane.  The look in his eyes is answer enough.

Shane: So what the hell happened?  What was so horrible to make ya feel the need to get plastered off your arse and throw yourself at Kittie?

Rage: I don't want to talk about it.

Rage stands up, very slowly.  When he feels comfortable enough to walk, he starts picking up the empty beer bottles and liquor bottles from the mini-fridge, but Shane doesn't give up.

Shane: Oh c'mon, bud.  Whatever it is, all of us will understand.

Rage doesn't respond.  He continues to clean up the mess he made, tossing the empty bottles into the trash and getting the room to a semi-decent state.

Shane: Sooner or later, you're gonna have to tell us about what happened.  

Rage snaps his head up, glaring at Shane with fury in his eyes.  He gets right in Shane's face, spitting venom at his brother...for all intents and purposes.

Rage: I said I don't want to talk about it, Shane!  So just fucking drop it!  What happened in that house, with those people...None of you need to know about it, so just quit asking me about it.

Shane shakes his head and his mood suddenly changes to match Rage's.

Shane: You're right...We don't need to know about it, but considering we all want to help ya, it'd be nice to be told what is going on.  Those people...whoever the hell they are, they're not your family.  Blood-wise, maybe.  But you know who your family really is.  

Rage stands there, fuming, letting each word sink into his mind.  Shane steps closer, getting right back into Rage's face.

Shane: WE are your family, peanut head.  Synn, Despy, Gabriel, Kittie, Fantasia and Me...We're your real family.  We're trying to help you, especially considering you got a chance to bring the Heavyweight title back to the Sins where it belongs, but if ya keep your mind on this shit with those people...Well, it'll never happen.  Think about that for a while.

Rage: I'll get the job done, Shane.  That title is as good as mine.

Shane laughs.  He shakes his head and takes a few steps back and away from his angry brother.

Shane: Not like this ya won't.  I'm pretty sure Synn and Kittie have told ya the same thing before, so I'm just reminding you.  Get ya mind focused on that title and only the title, and you'll get the job done.

Shane doesn't speak another word.  He just allows Rage to think about everything he's just said and if need be, to stew in his own anger for a while.  Rage clenches his fists at his side and starts to shake a bit as his anger grows.  Shane turns and walks out of the room, leaving Rage alone to clean up his mess and think about what his next move will be.  He needs to decide quickly, because his match against Drake is fast approaching.

******************************


Later that day, Rage, Kittie, Shane and Fantasia all boarded a flight back to Arizona to join Synn, Despayre and Gabriel.  Rage had to pay a hefty bill for his trashed hotel room and the empty mini-fridge, but he didn't even bother putting up a fight over any of the expenses.  He just paid the bill and got the hell out of there without so much as another word.  Kittie was still obviously angry with him, giving him the cold shoulder the entire ride to the airport and that made for an awkward, yet welcomed silence between the two.  

Shane and Fantasia weren't quite sure how to handle the situation, as neither were accustomed to hearing nothing but silence between Rage and Kittie, much less any member of the Sins at all.  Even when Kittie made it a point to ask that her seat on the plane be a few rows behind Rage, no one seemed to argue.  

Shane kept a watchful eye on Rage throughout most of the flight to Arizona, but the big man didn't move much.  He just leaned back in his seat, utterly quiet, with Kittie glaring at the back of his head.  Having had enough, Fantasia finally broke her silence on the matter, turning her head to look at Shane.


Fantasia: This has got to be a record for those two.  She's not even attempting to agitate him at all.

Shane: Can't say I blame her right now.  Big man is pretty messed up at the moment.

Shane and Fantasia don't know this, but Rage can hear every word they are saying.  They're trying to keep hushed voices, but Rage has a good ear apparently as he listens to the two with a furious look growing on his face.

Fantasia: When has that ever mattered before?  

Shane: That might be true, but considering the current situation, it's probably best if they don't speak to one another.  At least not until Synn can speak to the both of them...more specifically our formerly bald peanut headed friend.

Rage turns around in his seat, looking directly at Shane.  Shane grins, giving away the fact that he knew Rage could hear him and Fantasia speaking.

Shane: Ya know, you really did look better without hair, bud.  I'm still not used to that fuzzy mop of yours...

Rage: Blow me, Shane.

Shane shudders and shakes his head.  Several people sitting around the group turn and look at Rage, appalled to hear such language but he pays them no mind.

Shane: Nah, that's Synn's job.

Kittie: Or that flaming bitch, Electra Blaze...

They all turn and look at Kittie as she breaks her silence, but she has a grin on her face.

Rage: Who the hell asked you?  I thought you weren't speaking to me.

Kittie: I wasn't speaking to you.  I was speaking to Shane, dumbass.

A flight attendant then walks up to the group, looking at all four with as polite a smile as she can muster.

Attendant: Is there a problem here?

Kittie: No...we're just peachy, thanks.

Attendant: Okay, then I'm going to have to ask that you refrain from using foul language.  We have children on board and several people can hear you.

Rage snarls at the flight attendant and Kittie rolls her eyes.

Kittie: Relax, peanut head.  Let's not get ourselves kicked off the flight or forced to make an emergency landing.

Shane: At least Despy isn't here...

Rage rolls his eyes while the other three share a laugh.  The flight attendant walks away, but she keeps a close eye and ear on the group, ready to intervene again should the need arise.

Fantasia: Well look on the bright side...At least they're talking again.

Rage lets out a loud laugh.

Rage: Speak for yourself.  I liked her better when she wasn't talking.

Kittie: Yeah and I liked you better when you weren't forcing your disgusting tongue in my mouth.  I had to use a whole bottle of mouth wash just to get the taste out!

Shane can't help but chuckle as the two begin bickering back and forth once again as a couple of flight attendants head over to address the situation.  What had started as a strangely peaceful flight to Arizona has now turned into a heated debate.  Shane turns to Fantasia and shakes his head.

Shane: You just had to say something, didn't you?  

Fantasia shrugs innocently as the flight attendants have had to force Rage and Kittie to ignore one another for the duration of the flight.  But given everything that has happened thus far, that may be a task easier said than done...

******************************

Two years...That's how long it's been since I've been the Heavyweight Champion.  The same guy I beat for the title beat me and took the title back, and I haven't had another shot at getting it back since then.  Losing the title to Nick Jones after just over a month as champion was a real fucking eye opener and after that...well, that's when I started going down hill.  After I lost the belt, something in me snapped and I got messy.

Magic Man was right a couple weeks ago when he questioned which Rage will show up in this match against Drake Green.  I hate to admit when that crazy son of a bitch is right, and I'll probably never live that down admitting that, but fuck it.  Gabriel was right this time.

After I lost the Heavyweight Championship, I wasn't controlling my anger...Not the way I should.  Sure I was still pissed off at everything and everybody.  I still hated people like I always do, but I didn't channel it the proper way.  I was more focused on beating the shit out of people then I was in beating the shit out of people and still winning.  

So what happened?  I started a war with some loud mouthed prick named James Shark and I lost to the mother fucker.  I actually lost to him instead.  Then a few months goes by and I get myself suspended by attacking good ole Mark Ward when I chokeslammed him.  I was out for about five months before I came back, but I still wasn't the same.  I was hell bent on beating the shit out of Ward, even though he wouldn't give me the match that I wanted.

Then that fucking arm injury sidelined me for another six months.  It was during that time out that I finally figured out what had to be done.  When I came back to the ring, I had to focus on not only destroying people, but winning in the process.  And so far, it's worked.

You, Drake, will be no different.  

You don't seem to realize how determined I am, Showtime.  And with the added bonus of this being a TLC match, it makes it that much better for me, and oh so much worse for you.  This is really how you want to end your career, is it?  No problem, Drake.  I'll do ya the favor.

When this all started, Drake, I was focused on only one thing....getting the Heavyweight title back around my waist.  I didn't give a shit who I had to face to get it, but I knew sooner or later, I'd be the champion again.  Well, now, I can honestly say I'm fucking glad that I'm going against YOU, Showtime.  I'm over the fucking moon knowing that I get to end YOUR reign and your career at the same time, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it.

Call me boring all you want.  Say I'm putting you to sleep all you want, but once Violent Conduct is here...Once that bell rings...I'll be putting you to sleep in a very different way.  A much more powerful and permanent way.  But, knowing you, you'll shrug it off and think I won't do it.

That's okay, keep thinking that.  Keep living in your fantasy world, thinking you'll still be the Heavyweight Champion after Violent Conduct.  Keep talking about how boring I supposedly am, because when all is said and done, you'll only have yourself to blame for the damage I'm going to do to you.  Just remember that when you're being fed liquid meals through a straw for the rest of your life.

One week, Drake.  You've got one week left, and there is nothing you can say or do that will change that.


Offline DrakeGreen

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DRAKE GREEN vs RAGE
« Reply #2 on: September 06, 2014, 11:01:55 PM »
 
Loss



“It's so much darker when a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone.” –John Steinbeck




September 1st, 2014 – Pho Ao Sen Restaurant; Mesa, AZ – 8:30 PM

[The camera fades in to a dimly lit restaurant. A soft piano is playing in the distance as the patrons enjoy a quiet dinner on this warm Mesa evening. The walls of the restaurant are covered by what seems to be exposed dark gray brick, but as you look closer you can see it’s just a plastic façade. Large, burning candle sconces are fastened to the walls every four feet or so to help sell the castle feel the restaurant seems to be going for. The camera pans around the large dining room focusing on different patrons. An older couple sitting against the back wall, celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary, shares a champagne toast together. A young couple seems to be having an argument as they go back and forth but try desperately to keep their body language and voice levels down.

The camera comes to a halt on a small table in the center of the dining room. Sitting across from one another are former three time SCW Bombshell Champion Misty and current SCW Heavyweight Champion Drake Green. Misty is wearing a tight purple shirt and a pair of dark blue hip hugging jeans. She crosses her ankles just above her tall black, red bottom heels as she smiles with her eyes at Drake. He stares back at her with an equally inviting smile as he adjusts the collar on his white button down shirt. He too is wearing dark blue jeans, although his shoe choice is a much more casual variety in Converse Chuck Taylors. He rubs his chin as he looks down at the glass of Diet Coke he is holding in his hand. He begins to run his finger around the edge of the glass as he peers across the room at the older couple’s celebratory glasses of champagne. Noticing his wandering eyes, Misty lets out a fake cough.]

Misty: Ahem…

[Drake turns back to her and realizes that Misty caught him daydreaming about the champagne.]

Drake: What?

Misty: I saw you looking at their champagne…

Drake: Me?

[Drake flashes a playful smile at her and she follows with a quick, but loud laugh.]

Misty: How long has it been?

Drake: Two weeks.

[She reaches across the table and grabs his hands in her own, looking up at him and smiling as she does.]

Misty: I’m proud of you. I know it isn’t easy.

Drake: What is that they say? I was sick and tired of being sick and tired.

Misty: Were you?

Drake: No.

[They both laugh.]

Drake: The truth is I finally found something in my life that…you know…filled that proverbial hole.

[Misty smiles.]

Misty: And what was that?

Drake: Honestly?

Misty: No, dishonestly.

[He smiles back at her playful but somewhat menacing smirk as he leans in across the table.]

Drake: Never in my life have I felt this way about something or someone….

[Misty’s eyes widen in anticipation of how Drake is going to finish his sentence.]

Drake: But I really just fucking love Diet Coke.

[Misty shakes her head at Drake’s grin before tossing her napkin in his face. He lets out a bellowing laugh that just makes her a bit more annoyed.]

Misty: You’re such a jerk.

Drake: Wait until you hear the terms for the bet you lost.

[Misty smile drops off of her face.]

Misty: That’s not funny, Drake.

Drake: You’re right it’s not.

Misty: Like I said, jerk.

Drake: Hey, let me ask you a question.

Misty: What?

Drake: You see that couple over there?

[Drake points to the older couple.]

Misty: Yeah…?

Drake: Do you want that?

Misty: Cheap champagne and crème brulee?

[He chuckles.]

Drake: No, ass. That.

[He makes a big imaginary circle with his hands.]

Drake: The whole package…love, marriage, and anniversaries. They look so happy like nothing else matters except the two of them.

[Misty slumps back in her chair with a bit of a surprised look on her face as if she was totally caught off guard by what Drake just said.]

Misty: I don’t know. I have Eden and that complicates things for me.

Drake: It doesn’t for me.

Misty: I really don’t know. What about you? Do you want that?

[Misty leans in again toward Drake, awaiting his response almost impatiently. She bites her lip as she watches his mouth begin to open and just as he is about to speak, his phone rings. Her face slumps a bit as he pulls his iPhone out of his pocket.]

Misty: Ever hear of vibrate?

Drake: Sorry, it’s Max.

Misty: Well go ahead, answer it.

Drake: No, it’s cool. I’ll call him later.

[He ends the call and sets his phone down on the dinner table.]

Misty: So…you were about to say something?

Drake: That’s right. What I really want…I mean what I really want is-

[Just as Drake is about to speak again he waiter walks over and interrupts him.]

Waiter: So anything else?

[Misty drops her head in annoyance. Drake smiles as he turns to the waiter.]

Drake: No, just the check, thank you.

Waiter: No problem, here you go.

[He drops the check on the table and Misty goes to pull out her wallet from her bag but Drake quickly snatches it up.]

Misty: What are you doing? I wanna pay!

Drake: Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.

Misty: Why not? Women can pay, you know.

Drake: Women can, yes. But you can not.

[He smiles as he drops the check back on the table with a handful of cash.]

Drake: Shall we?

[Misty rolls her eyes.]

Misty: I guess.

[Drake smiles as he stands and up picks his blazer up off of his chair, grabbing his phone and shoving it in to the front pocket of his tight designer jeans. He throws on his blazer as he walks around the small table. He gently pulls out Misty’s chair for her as she stands up, grabbing her short navy jacket. Drake quickly grabs her jacket and holds it out for her as she sticks her arms through the sleeves. She turns back around as Drake’s phone starts to ring again and she rolls her eyes.]

Drake: Sorry.

[He ends the call again.]

Misty: He must really miss you.

Drake: I’m sure he’s just freaking out that I’m not training while he’s home in Hawaii with Carmen. He left me a strict regimen to follow this week.

[The two make their way out of the restaurant, holding hands. As they get outside Drake hands the valet the ticket for his car and Misty turns to face. He puts his hands on her arms and rubs them a bit in an effort to warm her from the cool desert night air.]

Drake: I just wanted to say thank you.

Misty: For what?

Drake: Just for giving me another chance. I know I’ve been a dick sometimes-

[Misty cuts him off.]

Misty: Sometimes?

Drake: Ok, fine. I know I’ve been a dick a lot of times.

Misty: That sounds more like it.

Drake: Well I just wanted you to know that you make me happy. And not just school boy happy. For the first time in a long time I am truly genuinely happy. More happy than I think I’ve ever been.

[Misty leans in and gives him a soft kiss on his lips.]

Misty: That makes two of us.

[Drake reaches up runs his hand through Misty’s hair, brushing a bit of it back behind her ear. He leans in and gives her a kiss of his own, this one a bit deeper and a bit more passionate. He releases the embrace as the valet pulls around the building with his Range Rover. Just as the truck pulls up his phone rungs again and they both laugh.]

Drake: I don’t think he’s giving up.

Misty: Just answer it.

Drake: Fine.

[He hits the green answer button on the front of his iPhone as Misty opens the passenger side front door of his luxury sports utility vehicle.]

Drake: Hello, Maximus.

[Misty plops up into the truck and waits for Drake. After a few moments of silence she gets a bit playfully impatient and opens her door back up.]

Misty: Hey, tell Maxy you’re too busy to talk about training right now. You’ve got a woman all primed and-

[Her expression changes when she sees Drake standing with a pale, blank look on his face. He is holding his phone down at his side as his eyes look down at the cold dry pavement. He looks up at Misty, his eyes filling with water and turning a faint shade of red, and his mouth opens slowly.]

Drake: Max…he’s…

[A concerned Misty hops out of the Range Rover.]

Misty: What’s wrong?

Drake: He’s dead.

[The camera cuts to black.]



September 4th, 2014 – Borthwick Kauai Mortuary; Kauai, HI – 2:00 PM

[The camera fades back in to small funeral parlor in Kauai, Hawaii. There are about a dozen rows of pews although the place is only about half full. In the front of the room is a large picture of Maxwell Proffo surrounded by an oversized reef and several bouquets of flowers. In the front row sits Carmen Proffo, Max’s wife of just last winter. She sobs in the arms of a woman, a friend or sister most likely, holding a handkerchief to her face. In front of the onlookers is a Reverend, speaking softly as to not offend anyone. Sitting in the front pew next to Carmen are Drake and Misty. Drake is wearing a black suit, white shirt, and black tie and Misty is wearing a conservative black dress. After a few moments the Reverend and again asks for everyone’s attention. He stands up at the pulpit in his traditional reverend garb and begins to speak softly once again.]

Reverend: I would please like to ask Maxwell’s close friend, Drake, to come up and say a few words.

[Drake leans over and kisses Misty ever so gently on the cheek as he stands up. He walks toward the alter and stops in front of Carmen. He kneels down and gives her a kiss on the cheek as well. As he tries to stand back up Carmen grabs him by the back of the neck and pulls him in close. She lets out a loud sob as they embrace before whispering something in to his ear. He acknowledges what she had just said and then lands another soft kiss on to her forehead. He turns around and heads up to the pulpit. He shakes hands with the Reverend and then stands in front of the small podium and lets out a deep sigh.]

Drake: I’m not really sure what to say. I…

[He looks towards Misty and she tries to let out a small smile for him.]

Drake: I wrote some words down.

[He pulls out a folded piece of white paper from his breast pocket in his suit jacket. He unfolds the paper and reads the words that are written on it silently to himself before leaning forwards again toward the microphone.]

Drake: I’m not going to read these today. I don’t think…

[Drake drops the paper down on the podium and then runs his hands through his hair, rubbing his face afterwards.]

Drake: My father passed when I was very young. I don’t remember much of him to tell you the truth. Most of the memories I do have of him are actually stories and memories that belong to other people that were handed down to me over the past twenty plus years.

[Drake unbuttons his neck button and then loosens his tie.]

Drake: Max Proffo was my father. Sure he wasn’t blood but he was more of a parent to me than anyone in my life that was supposed to have that role ever was. He took my brother Nick and I in, under no obligation to do so, and raised us as his own in a way that only he could…the only way he knew how. There are many things that I learned from Max over the years. Some good and plenty bad…

[A small chuckle is heard through the people sitting in the parlor.]

Drake: Max Proffo was a great man who did not accept his own greatness. He never quite accepted his own greatness, all he had done, all the lives he profoundly changed. I wish he could have been here today if only to see the incredible good he did in the world. My brother Nick and I were hopeless, not having any direction in this world. He taught us discipline, he taught us what strength really meant, and he taught us how to survive on what we had. A gift and a lesson I will never forget.

[Drake wipes a small tear out of his eye.]

Drake: When I was just twenty-one years old Max presented me with a choice. I had an opportunity to travel to Japan and take a job learning from one of the pioneer’s of my industry; a chance to learn from the very best in the world. I was skeptical. I was young, naïve, and broke. I had just turned twenty-one and was living the life only a twenty-one year old could. My original thought was to say ‘no’ and to keep on keepin’ on. I didn’t see the opportunity in front of me the way I should have and I needed a Maxism. A Maxism was what my brother Nick and I called Max’s lessons on life. Every once in a while Max would drop some knowledge on you and you would be completely in awe of him for about two minutes.

[Another small chuckle is heard through the people sitting in the parlor.]

Drake: So Max comes up to me and he says in his grumpy voice…’D…don’t be an idiot.’ That was it. He looked at me with that mean stare of his and then just walked away. That was enough…I flew out to Tokyo the next day. And that was Max. He was there to tell you just how stupid you were being sometimes and he wasn’t afraid to let you know how he felt. He was the best man I ever….

[Drake stops himself as he starts to get choked up a bit.]

Drake: He was the best man I ever knew. I made a lot of mistakes in my life, more so than I could begin to tell you. I pushed everyone who ever loved me away, including Max. Especially Max. No matter how many times I made a complete and utter ass out of myself, Max was always there to tell me everything was going to be ok. He was always there. He was the father everyone always dreamed of and the best friend I could have ever asked for. I know it is hard to understand, but sometimes painful things like this happen. It’s all part of the process of life and of living. It’s all part of growing and making sure you live every bit of life as much as you can and when you can.

[Drake stops for a moment and looks at Misty. They hold each other’s on each other for a moment and Drake gives her a soft nod.]

Drake: I didn’t tell Max that I loved him enough. In fact, I’m not sure if I ever really told him. I’m sure I showed him in my own messed up way but it pains me to think that he may not have known the depths of the love that I have for him. Max was more to me than just a father figure and a friend; he was a partner. A partner in this crazy ride that has been my life and now I’m flying solo and I just want scream. I wasn’t ready to let Max go. I wasn’t ready for any of this. He left me and it isn’t fair and it’s at a moment in my life that I may have needed him the most…and it’s not fair. But that’s the point isn’t it? That life isn’t fair. So maybe after all these years Maxy dropped the greatest Maxism of all on me. In silence he’s told me loud and clear, he’s told me that I’m on my own. That I’m ok and that everything is going to ok.

[Drake takes a deep breath in, closing his eyes as he does so. He lets the air out of his and slowly opens his eyes.]

Drake: Before I bore you all for the rest of the day there’s just one more thing I’d like to say to my friend Max. Thank you for everything you have ever sacrificed for me to succeed because I know how much it was. I’m sorry for never letting you know just how much I respected you, just how much I owed you, and just how much I love you. Thank you, Max…goodbye.

[Drake, holding and fighting back his tears, walks over back to the front pew and sits quietly back down next to Misty. The Reverend begins to speak softly again and Drake lets one lone tear stream down his face. He goes to wipe it away but Misty’s warm hand beats him to it. She wipes away his tear and then leans over, kissing him softly on the cheek. As he turns toward her she smiles at him and Drake, for the first time in days, feels ok. The scene fades out.]



”There were few things in life that I cared about more than Max. In fact I don’t even think there was ANYTHING that I really cared for more than him. He was the only person in this world that really knew the struggles that I went through. He knew all of the problems that I’m going through. I don’t know how I am I going to make it through all of this without him, it’s terrifying. He told me something about you, Rage, that I’ll never forget. He told me that people like you, people with that much anger, are just over compensating for the misery they feel for themselves and their own lives. They take their depression and turn it outward because they don’t have any other way to deal with it. They don’t know any better. You don’t know any better, and for that I feel a small amount of pity for you.”

“It must be hard on you being on the top at one point and then coming back to find yourself irrelevant. What does it feel like being the odd man out? Let’s be honest here, if I had some sort of self control you wouldn’t even be in the position you’re in now. If I had just shown some restraint and not let your pestering get under my skin then we would be in completely different places, you and I. I’d be defending my championship against someone that might actually deserve the shot and you would be…well…who really cares any way?”

“I’ve already heard this song before. I’ve been here a hundred times before. I know you’re gonna beat me in to a pulp and in to submission and all the usual stuff. You told me all about it last time we did this dance. The same old rhetoric gets old after a while, man. I won’t stoop to repeating my opinion of you because just as my fans are tired of hearing you say the same things about me, I won’t torture them with the same tactics. They already know how I feel and it won’t do any good to rehash it. The truth is I don’t care enough about you. You struck a chord in me when you put your hands on me. I shouldn’t have let my temper get the best of me because it isn’t fair to you. It isn’t right to let you think you actually mean anything and belong in this ring with me, because let’s be honest, you don’t. It would be a hard sell at any venue. It isn’t fair to everyone else on the card either. Guy’s like Equinox, Horace Jackson, and Steve Ramone who bust their asses week in and week out for this company. Those are the guys that deserve a shot at our top prize. Not some coward piece of shit that runs away from Mark Ward and only returns after he’s finally given up wrestling. When the coast is clear. That’s not the caliber of person that deserves to wrestle me and I apologize to the millions of people that are gonna have to suffer through me whipping your ass in Yuma.”

“Max was wrong about one thing though, Rage. He always told me that what I did for a living wasn’t personal. That when I made someone tap out in the center of the ring or when someone pinned my shoulders down for a three count that it wasn’t personal. That it never leaves the ring. This is a business and we’re all here for glory and to make a living. I carried that principal through most of my career and it worked well for me. I was a respected veteran with a few titles and a decent paycheck. But it wasn’t until I decided that letting it all hang out…letting it all loose in the ring. It was when I decided to live and die by my performance that things really took off for me; that I finally became the superstar that I am now. You see, Rage, it isn’t a job for me anymore. It’s my life. When I get in that ring and my title is hung high above that six sided ring I will do anything to walk out of there champion. That’s the difference between you and me. You say you will KILL to win that title again. Me? I would and I will DIE to protect it. You can’t threaten me with harm, Rage, because it doesn’t scare me. You’ve never been in the ring with someone like me before….you’ve never been part of the SHOW…”




September 5th, 2014 – Clarion Suites; Yuma, Arizona – 9:30 PM

[The camera sets back in outside of the Clarions Suites hotel in Yuma. The small but pretty building is surrounded by palm trees, which are lit up by spotlights in the dark desert sky. A black Range Rover pulls up in front of the hotel and stops before the entrance. Inside the truck are Drake and Misty, sitting quietly and not speaking to one another. After a moment, Misty breaks the silence.]

Misty: Are you sure you don’t want to stay here?

Drake: Yeah, thanks though. I think I just need a night to unwind and just be alone.

Misty: I understand.

Drake: Thank you for that.

Misty: Of course, Drake. You don’t need to thank me.

Drake: I know.

Misty: Goodnight.

[Misty leans over and give him a quick peck on the lips. As she goes to get out of the car Drake quickly grabs her arm.]

Drake: Wait.

Misty: What is it?
Drake: I love you.

[Misty’s jaw drops as she hears Drake say the words. Her eyes widen as she tries to think of something to say.]

Misty: Drake-

[He cuts her off.]

Drake: I don’t need you to say it back, really I don’t. I just needed you to know that I do. I’ve fucked up every personal relationship I’ve ever had in my life and before something happened I needed you to know.

Misty: You don’t-

[He cuts her off again.]

Drake: No, I do. I don’t know how to be a boyfriend or a partner or a husband or a father. I have no idea how to do anything for anyone else. I’m the most selfish person that you’ll ever meet. I act almost completely on impulse and I almost never put any one else’s needs in front of my own. But with you it’s different. I don’t care about anything else. I just want to see you smile every day, all day long.

[Misty laughs.]

Drake: I know I’ve been a total asshole to you and I don’t know if I can ever make it all up to you but I want to try. There were only two people that I cared about in this world, Misty. I just lost one of them. I don’t want to lose the other one too.

Misty: I’m not going anywhere.

[Drake begins to tear up a bit.]

Drake: Good, because I don’t think I could handle losing you too.

Misty: Oh, come here.

[She pulls him in to her shoulder and he lets out a loud sob, finally letting the emotions of the past few days come through.]

Drake: I just miss him so much, Misty. I don’t know if I can do this without him.

Misty: Hey, everything is going to be ok. I promise.

[Drake picks his head up and their eyes meet. He leans in slowly and they share a passionate embrace for a moment before separating again.]

Misty: I think you should go get some rest and take that time to unwind. I can come by in the morning around 9:30 and we can go get some breakfast, ok?

[She smiles at him.]

Drake: Ok.

Misty: Are you going to be ok?

Drake: Yeah, I’m alright.

Misty: I mean…

[She lets her sentence trail off as she’s not sure how to ask the question.]

Drake: You mean am I going to drink?

Misty: Sorry. I’m just worried and I know how upset you are and I just wanted to make sure that you knew if you needed me there to-

[He interrupts her.]

Drake: I’m ok. I’ll be fine.

Misty: Ok.

[She smiles at him again.]

Misty: I’ll see you in the morning?

Drake: Yeah, of course. She leans in and kissed him one more time before hopping out of his Range Rover. She grabs her bag out of the back seat and walks toward the entrance to the hotel. Drake watches her walk away with a small smile on his face that quickly fades when she vanishes. He sits there for a moment, gripping the steering wheel with his strong hands, before reaching over to the glove box and opening it up. He pulls out a small orange and white pill bottle and holds it up to the light, reading the label.

DRAKE GREEN

OXYCODONE     30 CT    2 REFILLS

He stares at the pill bottle for a moment, thinking about his friend Max. He can almost taste the sweetness of a cold glass of scotch touching his lips. He thinks how wonderful it would be to have just one drink before he went to bed but then he remembers the mantra of his fallen friend. ‘One drink is too much and a thousand is never enough.’ He lets out another sigh and goes to put the pills away but as he reaches down he feels a pain in his neck. He brings his hand up to the back of his neck and rubs it intently to try and relieve some his pain. Unsuccessful, he takes a few of the pills out and swallows them, assuming they’d relieve the pain and help him get that great night sleep alone in the hotel room he was hoping for. He assumed. The scene fades out as he drives away from the Clarion Suites hotel.



September 5th, 2014 – Radisson Hotel; Yuma, Arizona – 10:00 PM

[The scene fades back in inside of an elevator. Drake is riding the elevator car up to his sixth floor hotel room. He has a dark blue hard plastic suitcase, which is on wheels and a black army style jacket draped over his arm. He stares at his own reflection in the bronze colored elevator door as the effects of his painkillers start to kick in. He feels a bit woozy as the elevator lets out a ‘DING’ and arrives at his floor. The door opens just in time before his legs start to feel weak. He quickly walks out of the elevator and down the hall, hoping he can get to his room before the corridor begins to spin. As he rounds the corner to where his suite is, he sees a young woman sitting at the bottom of his door. Her dark blonde hair covers her face but her outfit gives her away. A knee length black leather skirt and black fur wrap, stylish and accessorized as can be. She looks up as Drake gets close and we see who she is; the leader of the Mean Girls and SCW Bombshell Delia Darling.]

Delia: Hey z’ere. I s’ought you could use some company.

[Drake, emotionally drained, can’t hide his annoyance.]

Drake: What are you doing here?

Delia: I told you. I s’ought you might be lonely so I came to make you smile.

Drake: Yeah, well, you should probably leave.

[She hops up to her feet, which are stuck inside of super high heels.]

Delia: But I have not made you smile yet, no?

Drake: Look, we’re not friends ok. I know we hung out a couple of times and we talked and that was cool and all but you can’t show up here. If you don’t mind, I’d like to get some sleep and I don’t think your company is gonna do me any good, so…

[He lets his sentence trail off as he tries to not be any more rude than he has already been or needs to be.]

Delia: So sweet. I s’ink you misunderstood me, Monsieur Showtime. I wasn’t talking about me.

[A confused look comes over Drake’s face as Delia bends down and then stands back up quickly, although now she is holding something in her hand. Drake looks over to see a large bottle of Johnny Walker Black Label. He shuts his eyes for a moment only to reopen them, disappointed to still see the bottle.]

Delia: Z’is is your favorite, no?  

[He stares at the bottle intently, looking over the gold and black label and imagining what it would be like to just take one sip. He feels his tongue slowly slip out of his mouth and gently lick the inside of his top lip. He feels himself giving in but before he does, he thinks of Misty. The image is enough as he snaps out of it and grabs Delia forcefully by the arm, dragging her away from his hotel room door.]

Delia: Owwww!

Drake: Please, just leave, I don’t have patience for this. You’re a classless whore…get the fuck away from me.

[Drake pushes past her and slides the key card in to his hotel room door. Just as he is about to walk in and shut the door on her, he stops in his tracks. He lets out a brief sigh and turns back to Delia who is facing away from him, letting out the makings of a small sob. He shakes his head and takes a step closer to her.]

Drake: Look…I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I’ve had a bad couple days and-

[Delia cuts him off.]

Delia: No, you are right. I don’t know why I came here. I just z’ought…never mind. I shouldn’t have come.

[Delia goes to walk off and as she takes a few steps she stumbles in her heels. Drake, now feeling terrible about he reacted to seeing her, grabs her by the hand.]

Drake: Wait…

Delia: Oui?

Drake: You’re obviously drunk and you shouldn’t be wandering around. Why don’t you come in and lay down. There’s a couch in there…you can have the bed.

[A twisted smile comes over her face as she brushes her hairs back behind her ear.]

Delia: What ever you say handsome…

[She brushes by Drake and walks in to his suite with a renewed confidence in her stride. Drake can’t help but think her bit of small sobbing was an act but at this point the room is tilted from the five Oxycontins he swallowed before leaving Misty’s hotel. He walks over and drops his jacket on the couch before kicking off his Converse sneakers. As he turns around back to Delia her being just a few inches away from him startles him. She unhooks her black fur wrap to reveal her tight black top and her appealing cleavage and Drake turns his head to politely look away.]

Delia: So what do you say, Showtime? One drink wi’s me?

[She holds up the bottle of Johnny Walker again and smiles widely. He stares at the bottle again and he can feel his palms start to sweat. He takes a deep breath and again tries to politely refuse.]

Drake: Delia-

[She cuts him off, still smiling.]

Delia: I won’t tell Misty if you do not.

[Drake stares at the bottle and then looks over to Delia’s devilish grin. He thinks to himself that just one drink won’t hurt and that it will probably get her to leave him alone so he could sleep. He thinks about how wonderful the scotch would feel going down his throat and how after the tough week he’s had that he deserves just one.]

Drake: Fine, just one glass.

Delia: I’ll get z’e ice! May I have your key?

[Drake hands over his key card and Delia shuffles out of the room, still stumbling in her heels, grabbing the ice bucket in her wake. Drake plops down on the couch and drops his head in his hands. He thinks about how terribly mad Misty would be if she knew what he was about to do and with who he was about to do it with. He rubs his eyes and thinks again about his fallen friend Max. The tears begin to well up in the bottom of his eyes as Delia darts back in to the room. He wipes them away quickly and gets to his feet, determined to back out of having the drink but as quickly as he gets to his feet, Delia has his cocktail on ice and ready to go. Before he can open his mouth, Delia holds up an ice cold glass of delicious look scotch with an unbelievably wider smile on her face.]

Delia: Will you cheers wi’s me?

[Drake sighs again but grabs the glass out of her hand anyway. He clinks glasses with and takes what he plans on being a small sip. He let’s the golden, smoky, Scottish whiskey flow through his teeth and over his tongue. He can’t help but smile as he swallows the booze, closing his eyes and savoring every moment. He goes for another small sip immediately only the small sip turns in to a large gulp. Before he can stop himself, the glass is empty. He sets it down on the small table next to the couch and plops down with a smile on his face. Delia immediately grabs the bottle and refills his glass.]

Drake: That was exactly what I needed.

Delia: Drink up, z’ere is more.

Drake: I don’t think I should-

[She cuts him off.]

Delia: Don’t worry; your secret is safe with me.

[She grabs his glass and hands it to him before sitting a bit uncomfortably close to him on the couch with a glass of her own. Drake doesn’t seem to notice how close she is getting to him as he’s completely distracted by the now half empty second glass of scotch. With a full on pharmaceutical high he pours the scotch down his throat as if it were cold water on a hot summer day, completely oblivious to Delia who is now rubbing his leg.]

Drake: Why are you here?

[He looks at her with a smile as if he’s attitude toward her has completely changed. He seems to now notice her rubbing his leg but it doesn’t look like it bothers him very much if at all.]

Delia: I just had a tough day I need to see you.

[Drake is moderately amused by her seemingly fake answer but is distracted by her as she once again fills his glass of scotch.]

Delia: Angelica has been so mean to me. I don’t understand why every one hates me.

Drake: Maybe it’s because you’re an evil bitch?

[Drake smiles as Delia playfully and lightly smacks him on the cheek.]

Drake: You are mean to me too. I have no friends!

[She playfully pouts as Drake continues to drink his booze. As he finishes his third glass, the effects finally start to hit him. Mixed with the Oxycontin, the booze begins to completely inebriate him. He slowly starts to sway back and forth on the couch. He looks over to see her smiling, albeit a bit blurry. She grabs the bottle of scotch and stands up only to take a seat across his lap. He tries to resist for a moment but decides it isn’t worth fighting her. He figures he’d pass out soon enough anyway and she would just leave him alone. She pours a bit more scotch in his glass and then takes a swig straight from the bottle.]

Delia: Can I ask you a question?

Drake: Sure.

[She sets the bottle down on the table and begins to rub his chest as he stares past her with his glassy eyes.]

Delia: Do you think I’m pretty?

Drake: What?

Delia: You know, do find me attractive?

[Drake stares at her for a second and then, in a very smooth way, answers her.]

Drake: Yes, I do.

[She takes her finger and traces his muscles through his thin white t-shirt as he looks her up and down.]

Delia: Am I sexy?

Drake: Yes.

Delia: Like Misty?

[Drake grabs her wrist and stops her from running her finger around his chest. The two make intense eye contact for a moment before Drake breaks the silence.]

Drake: Why are you really here?

[Delia stares back at him for a moment before letting her evil grin return across her face. She tries to move her arm to touch his face but Drake won’t let her reposition as he holds her tight. Her twisted smile turns a bit more evil as she stares down at him. He looks her over and smiles back. He thinks to himself that he finally feels alive again. All the pain is gone and he can just live for the moment. He quickly grabs her by the back of the neck and pulls her in tight for a passionate and visceral kiss. She pushes him back against the couch with a smile of surprise on her face before standing up. She pulls her tight black shirt up over her head revealing her expensive and provocative bra. She hikes up her knee length leather skirt and straddles him. They begin passionately kissing again as Delia slowly rocks back and forth on top of him. He bites her neck as she lets out a soft moan and the camera cuts to black.]



September 6th, 2014 – Radisson Hotel; Yuma, Arizona – 9:15 AM

[The scene fades back in to Drake’s hotel room. He lays in the king sized hotel bed under the white comforter with his head buried in his pillows. He can feel the agonizing headache filling his brain as he tries to remember what happened the night before. As he tries to reach for his thoughts he realizes that underneath the covers that he isn’t wearing any clothes. He desperately tries to rack his brain when the sound of a toilet flushing interrupts his thoughts and at that moment his memories come flooding back to him. His eyes drop in self-disappointment as he turns to see a sheepish looking Delia Darling, wearing only his this white t-shirt, standing in the bathroom doorway.]

Delia: I-

[He immediately cuts her off in a frantic way.]

Drake: You need to go.

Delia: But-

[He cuts her off again.]

Drake: No, really. Misty is gonna be here any minute.

[Drake slides out of bed and slips on his jeans. He walks around the bed and picks up some of Delia’s and hands them to her.]

Drake: Look, I…

[The two stare at each other and for a brief moment they share an understanding of each other like they hadn’t before the previous night. He brings up his hand and touches the right side of her face. As his skin touches hers she leans her head in to his hand and closes her eyes for a moment.]

Drake: I’m sorry…

[She looks up to him with her bright brown eyes and tries to force a smirk.]

Delia: No. I should go.

[Drake nods to her as she grabs her clothes and goes in to the bathroom to change. He walks over to the couch and picks up the now empty bottle of scotch. He sniffs it and can’t help but smile a bit to himself. He goes to turn back to the bathroom but is caught off guard by the slamming shut of the hotel room door. She was gone, just like that. He shakes his head and grabs a bottle of cold water out of the fridge as he hears his phone go off with a text message notification. He walks over to the table and picks up his phone. A giant feeling of relief comes over him as he reads the text.

MISTY:

I’m here ☺

He grabs a clean black t-shirt out of the dresser and slips it on. He quickly slides on his Converse sneakers and heads out of the hotel room. He walks toward the elevator and as he does he can’t help but feel a part of his stomach turn. A part of him was still alive and well. The part of himself that he thought he had lost and had hoped he would never see or hear from again. He hits the button to call for the elevator and as he waits he can’t help but think how disappointed Max would’ve been in him. He shuts his eyes and apologizes to his friend but he knows that those are empty words. He isn’t sorry at all. He is only sorry that he can’t do it all over again tonight. The scene cuts out.]



I feel like it’s hard to get my point across to you, Rage. I feel like either your heads been smacked a few too many times or that you’re just not smart enough to comprehend what someone says to you. Which one is it? I’m not too sure. Last week at Climax Control I wanted to hurt you. I wanted to embarrass you in Mesa so I acted. I attacked and it felt great. Sometimes letting those animal instincts out really puts things in to perspective. It’s those animal instincts that you and I share that make us seem more alike than one would think. When it’s all stripped down we’re not that different. We have similar goals, to prove ourselves and to inflict pain on one another, and we both seem like we’ll stop at nothing to achieve said goals. In a perfect world things would be that simple and that black and white. But we don’t live in a perfect world do we? I didn’t think so…”

“Let’s get something strait here, Rage. Let us clear the air a bit because I think you’re still having a hard time deciphering basic human interaction. I don’t think you’re quite getting it. I don’t want to beat you. And no I’m not saying the 1980’s action movie rhetoric that you say; “I DON’T WANT TO BEAT YOU…I WANT TO END YOU!!!!” When I say I don’t want to beat you I need you to know that I really do mean it. I don’t want to beat you. I want to beat the idea of you. The big, mean challenger. You see Rage, you are a notch on my SCW Heavyweight Championship belt, nothing more and nothing less. You’re a conquest and a rather easy conquest at that. I’m looking at this match as a refresher…as a reminder as to why I am the best in the world, a quick defense against an unworthy challenger. A warm up to the Main Event of High Stakes 4 when I will no doubt face someone worthy enough to be there, unlike you.”

“So when you train this week, when you do your interviews and when you cut your promos. When you sleep next to your little slut Kittie, I want you to know that you’re meaningless; that all of this is meaningless. It’s nothing more than time filler until a real main event. No one cares, not even your Seven Deadly friends. You’re fodder for a real champion and the only person who isn’t in on the joke is you. Just take a minute and think about it. Take a deep breath and look down in your soul and you’ll see it. Even someone as dumb as you can see the writing on the wall. So do yourself a favor and don’t hurt yourself. Make sure you’re healthy for the Roulette title shot you’ll probably be getting in November. We need good mid carders too. Even you can play a valuable role. Equinox can use a good win. See you soon, Rage. Say hello to Kittie for me…she’s thinking about me anyway.”



The most magical, the most fantastical Showstopper of all time...

Former SCW World Heavyweight Champion

[4x]
Former SCW Roulette Champion [1x]

Twitter: @The_RealDG


Offline Christian Underwood

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DRAKE GREEN vs RAGE
« Reply #3 on: September 07, 2014, 09:39:04 AM »
 Second RP Period Deadline:
United States: 11:59pm EST Friday 09/12/2014
England: 04:59am Saturday 09/13/2014  


“To err is human - but it feels divine.”
? Mae West