Post by photographerbob on May 13, 2015 0:11:54 GMT -6
Roommates Bob and Johnny are sitting at a small table in the dining room of their apartment budgeting their money for the next week.
Bob: "So Johnny, what you think about that. Quickest payday ever.
Johnny: Yup. If you got paid by the hour we'd be in trouble, already late on paying the rent with your whole traveling fiasco.
Bob: "It ain't just me Johnny, my bae Lacey got sent somewhere else last show. Seriously since when did getting from point A to point B get so difficult.
Johnny: "It happens. Besides some people think the destination isn't important, it's how you get there that counts.
The part time photographer part time wrestler rolls his eyes as he counts the money he got for defeating Judge at the last show.
Bob: Yeah well I'm going places all right Johnny. You see how I handled that wanna be trying to make a name for himself at my expense?
Johnny: Honestly? No. I went to take a potty break, match was over by the time I got back.
Bob: The Hell Johnny, your my roommate, if you won't support me and watch my matches who will?
Johnny: Maybe your boo thing Lacey Roberts caught it from where ever she ended up at that night.
Bob: You think? I mean the whole thing only lasted about four seconds.
Johnny: Which is twice as long as I'd expect you to last if you got what you wanted from Lacey.
It actually looks like Bob might be genuinely hurt from Johnny's unkind words, but then he remembers he just god paid for four seconds of work and everything is better. He does however try to defend his ability to perform sexually.
Bob: Please, I think I set a record for quickest finish in UWA last Mayhem, and if Lacey ever gives me the time of day I'll set a record for quickest guy to make her black out from pure ecstasy and joy.
Johnny: What are you gonna do, drug her? Don't answer that.
Bob: As much as I love talking about Lacey Roberts, and her rocking tits, and her ridiculous ass, and all the nasty dirty perverse things I would do to her, I have to ask if we can please talk about what a big deal it is that I've finally been booked against a main stay star in the company like Vince mother fucking Jones.
Johnny: Is the mother fucking really necessary?
Bob: Yes it is! Hell the guy is a former North American Champion, possibly the greatest North American Champion to date. He's been in UWA forever, even longer than I have. He's got a huge match coming up at the next pay per view against pimp daddy Silver Baron. People are talking about him, he's got a spotlight on him, his name has value, which means a victory over him would be gigantic for me.
Johnny: Plus it'd be a bit of a redemption story, since he kicked your ass and beat you the last time you faced him.
Again Johnny's words seem to hurt Bob, who once again has to defend himself.
Bob: I don't think it was that bad a showing last time.
Johnny: You'd probably be a paraplegic right now if Amy Zing didn't rescue you.
Bob: I think you're exaggerating a tad.
Johnny: I don't think so. Vince could have literally murdered you man. Your so excited about this upcoming match and the possibility of making this huge jump in the company, it's possible Vince just finishes the job he started last time and ends you for good.
That's all Bob can take. He jumps up from his seat and slams his fist on the small table.
Bob: Have some fucking faith Johnny. I'm not the same lost and ignorant fool I was then. I'm faster, stronger, and more focused than before. I've gotten more and more experience between the ropes, and have solidified my spot on the roster by beating any and all newcomers trying to use me as a stepping stone. I'll show you, I'll show Vince Jones, I'll show everyone. You'll see!
And with that, Bob storms out of the room, and out of the apartment. Johnny who has been unusually negative thus far, cracks a smile as he looks back down at the bills he and Bob have to pay.
Johnny: There you go Bob. You act like that and that harlot Lacey might actually notice you. You might even go on to win a title or two. You show em Bob, show em all what you're really capable of.
The camera fades to black, before fading back in to a new scene shortly after. Bob is now alone, standing in a dark alley wearing a pair of jean shorts and a grey hooded sweatshirt. He stares into the camera with a cold unpleasant expression on his face.
Bob: Nobody expects anything from me anymore. I've been lost in the shuffle while others are fighting over titles, or settling their personal vendettas, or fighting just for survival. I'm just the guy who nonchalantly welcomes potential stars to the company time and time again. I got a few chances at greatness, even fought the person holding the World Heavyweight Championship once upon a time. I got slaughtered, I wasn't ready for it, and now it seems everyone has accepted that I never will.
We can barely see Bob's face as he looks down, the hood blocking most of the view.
Bob: I've become the guy who has no business in the main event, no business fighting the wars for power between group A and faction B. I'm not looked at as a potential tag team champion even though Lacey and I have a victory over the current title holders. You won't hear my name mentioned by anyone discussing who might end up challenging for the Television or North American Championship in the next big super show. Hell I might not even be on the damn card at all. Meanwhile you've got my opponent, Vince Jones, pretty much booking his own damn match for the big event.
Brooks begins to play with his thumbs, his face still mostly hidden as he looks down at his feet.
Bob: Vince Jones may not be well liked by many people, but the man is a hell of a lot more respected in this company than I am. I've heard my fair share of whispers from people who consider him a future World Heavyweight Champion. How fitting it would it, for the man who lost his North American Championship to Ashley Kenyon, to potentially win the World Title from her sister Bethany? Even without a title on the line, Vince and Silver Baron have become their own attraction, competing for the right to call the other their own personal bitch. While I've been floating around doing next to nothing with the nobodies of this company Vince Jones has been gaining momentum and climbing towards the top. He's got so much to fight for right now. To prove to everyone he truly does belong in the upper echelon of professional wrestling, to continue to gain momentum going into a match where the loser essentially becomes a god damn slave. Nothing is expected from me, but from Vince Jones, everyone expects the world.
Finally Bob looks back up, now with a huge shit eating grin on his face.
Bob: I sort of like it this way Vince. There is no pressure on me to succeed, no thoughts of screwing up my reputation clouding my mind. I'm pretty much in a no lose situation here. You on the other hand Vinny, have a literal fuck ton to lose. A loss to me, the low life welcoming committee, it would have to crush your morale right. There is no way in hell the higher ups could even consider putting you into a World Title match if you lost to an underachiever like Bob Brooks ya know. All them glorified prostitutes you like to hang around aren't gonna want to touch you if you get beat up by the glorified camera guy, while I can think of a super attractive championship caliber of a woman who might give me the time of day if I could pick up a win here. Worst of all though is a loss to me Vinny could be the small push that sends you into a downward spiral, the kind of spiral that ends with you working at the Pleasure Dome as their newest piece of ass. I don't know if a guy like you can get nervous, but you really ought to be.
There is an obvious sign of excitement in Bob's eyes, as he lowers his hood and begins to bounce up and down on his toes.
Bob: I've got nothing to lose and everything to gain Vince. While this might just be another Monday night for the V-man, this is a huge opportunity for little ole Bobby Brooks. Hell with as long as I've been slumming in the undercard, this could be the last true shot at being somebody in this company for me. Another loss to you Vince and it solidifies my spot as the bottom feeder everyone seems to have labeled me as. Letting you pin my shoulders to the mat, I might as well let you break my fucking neck because even if I do survive to fight another day my career here would be all but dead. Before I was an active wrestler, before I was even a camera man for this product, I was a fan. A fan who dared to dream what it would be like to compete amongst the best in the world, to defeat them, to one day be called a champion and get to hold on to a piece of history for a while. That's what I'll be fighting for this Monday Vince. Redemption not just for a former loss, but for a long life of failure. I'll be giving it my all in a match that to you is pointless and a waste of your talent. Maybe everything will play out like before, you get the better of me and it turns out everyone was right. I don't belong, you're a star in the making, and everything stays on course.
His smile grows wider, his steps quicker, as he brushes his hair out of his face.
Bob: Or maybe, just maybe, Bob Brooks endures the monster that is Vince Jones. Maybe Bob Brooks proves the critics wrong. Maybe Bob Brooks puts big bad Vince Jones on his ass for the count of three, and shocks the fucking world. I'm fighting for the "what if" Vince, what are you fighting for?
Everything fades to black.
Bob: "So Johnny, what you think about that. Quickest payday ever.
Johnny: Yup. If you got paid by the hour we'd be in trouble, already late on paying the rent with your whole traveling fiasco.
Bob: "It ain't just me Johnny, my bae Lacey got sent somewhere else last show. Seriously since when did getting from point A to point B get so difficult.
Johnny: "It happens. Besides some people think the destination isn't important, it's how you get there that counts.
The part time photographer part time wrestler rolls his eyes as he counts the money he got for defeating Judge at the last show.
Bob: Yeah well I'm going places all right Johnny. You see how I handled that wanna be trying to make a name for himself at my expense?
Johnny: Honestly? No. I went to take a potty break, match was over by the time I got back.
Bob: The Hell Johnny, your my roommate, if you won't support me and watch my matches who will?
Johnny: Maybe your boo thing Lacey Roberts caught it from where ever she ended up at that night.
Bob: You think? I mean the whole thing only lasted about four seconds.
Johnny: Which is twice as long as I'd expect you to last if you got what you wanted from Lacey.
It actually looks like Bob might be genuinely hurt from Johnny's unkind words, but then he remembers he just god paid for four seconds of work and everything is better. He does however try to defend his ability to perform sexually.
Bob: Please, I think I set a record for quickest finish in UWA last Mayhem, and if Lacey ever gives me the time of day I'll set a record for quickest guy to make her black out from pure ecstasy and joy.
Johnny: What are you gonna do, drug her? Don't answer that.
Bob: As much as I love talking about Lacey Roberts, and her rocking tits, and her ridiculous ass, and all the nasty dirty perverse things I would do to her, I have to ask if we can please talk about what a big deal it is that I've finally been booked against a main stay star in the company like Vince mother fucking Jones.
Johnny: Is the mother fucking really necessary?
Bob: Yes it is! Hell the guy is a former North American Champion, possibly the greatest North American Champion to date. He's been in UWA forever, even longer than I have. He's got a huge match coming up at the next pay per view against pimp daddy Silver Baron. People are talking about him, he's got a spotlight on him, his name has value, which means a victory over him would be gigantic for me.
Johnny: Plus it'd be a bit of a redemption story, since he kicked your ass and beat you the last time you faced him.
Again Johnny's words seem to hurt Bob, who once again has to defend himself.
Bob: I don't think it was that bad a showing last time.
Johnny: You'd probably be a paraplegic right now if Amy Zing didn't rescue you.
Bob: I think you're exaggerating a tad.
Johnny: I don't think so. Vince could have literally murdered you man. Your so excited about this upcoming match and the possibility of making this huge jump in the company, it's possible Vince just finishes the job he started last time and ends you for good.
That's all Bob can take. He jumps up from his seat and slams his fist on the small table.
Bob: Have some fucking faith Johnny. I'm not the same lost and ignorant fool I was then. I'm faster, stronger, and more focused than before. I've gotten more and more experience between the ropes, and have solidified my spot on the roster by beating any and all newcomers trying to use me as a stepping stone. I'll show you, I'll show Vince Jones, I'll show everyone. You'll see!
And with that, Bob storms out of the room, and out of the apartment. Johnny who has been unusually negative thus far, cracks a smile as he looks back down at the bills he and Bob have to pay.
Johnny: There you go Bob. You act like that and that harlot Lacey might actually notice you. You might even go on to win a title or two. You show em Bob, show em all what you're really capable of.
The camera fades to black, before fading back in to a new scene shortly after. Bob is now alone, standing in a dark alley wearing a pair of jean shorts and a grey hooded sweatshirt. He stares into the camera with a cold unpleasant expression on his face.
Bob: Nobody expects anything from me anymore. I've been lost in the shuffle while others are fighting over titles, or settling their personal vendettas, or fighting just for survival. I'm just the guy who nonchalantly welcomes potential stars to the company time and time again. I got a few chances at greatness, even fought the person holding the World Heavyweight Championship once upon a time. I got slaughtered, I wasn't ready for it, and now it seems everyone has accepted that I never will.
We can barely see Bob's face as he looks down, the hood blocking most of the view.
Bob: I've become the guy who has no business in the main event, no business fighting the wars for power between group A and faction B. I'm not looked at as a potential tag team champion even though Lacey and I have a victory over the current title holders. You won't hear my name mentioned by anyone discussing who might end up challenging for the Television or North American Championship in the next big super show. Hell I might not even be on the damn card at all. Meanwhile you've got my opponent, Vince Jones, pretty much booking his own damn match for the big event.
Brooks begins to play with his thumbs, his face still mostly hidden as he looks down at his feet.
Bob: Vince Jones may not be well liked by many people, but the man is a hell of a lot more respected in this company than I am. I've heard my fair share of whispers from people who consider him a future World Heavyweight Champion. How fitting it would it, for the man who lost his North American Championship to Ashley Kenyon, to potentially win the World Title from her sister Bethany? Even without a title on the line, Vince and Silver Baron have become their own attraction, competing for the right to call the other their own personal bitch. While I've been floating around doing next to nothing with the nobodies of this company Vince Jones has been gaining momentum and climbing towards the top. He's got so much to fight for right now. To prove to everyone he truly does belong in the upper echelon of professional wrestling, to continue to gain momentum going into a match where the loser essentially becomes a god damn slave. Nothing is expected from me, but from Vince Jones, everyone expects the world.
Finally Bob looks back up, now with a huge shit eating grin on his face.
Bob: I sort of like it this way Vince. There is no pressure on me to succeed, no thoughts of screwing up my reputation clouding my mind. I'm pretty much in a no lose situation here. You on the other hand Vinny, have a literal fuck ton to lose. A loss to me, the low life welcoming committee, it would have to crush your morale right. There is no way in hell the higher ups could even consider putting you into a World Title match if you lost to an underachiever like Bob Brooks ya know. All them glorified prostitutes you like to hang around aren't gonna want to touch you if you get beat up by the glorified camera guy, while I can think of a super attractive championship caliber of a woman who might give me the time of day if I could pick up a win here. Worst of all though is a loss to me Vinny could be the small push that sends you into a downward spiral, the kind of spiral that ends with you working at the Pleasure Dome as their newest piece of ass. I don't know if a guy like you can get nervous, but you really ought to be.
There is an obvious sign of excitement in Bob's eyes, as he lowers his hood and begins to bounce up and down on his toes.
Bob: I've got nothing to lose and everything to gain Vince. While this might just be another Monday night for the V-man, this is a huge opportunity for little ole Bobby Brooks. Hell with as long as I've been slumming in the undercard, this could be the last true shot at being somebody in this company for me. Another loss to you Vince and it solidifies my spot as the bottom feeder everyone seems to have labeled me as. Letting you pin my shoulders to the mat, I might as well let you break my fucking neck because even if I do survive to fight another day my career here would be all but dead. Before I was an active wrestler, before I was even a camera man for this product, I was a fan. A fan who dared to dream what it would be like to compete amongst the best in the world, to defeat them, to one day be called a champion and get to hold on to a piece of history for a while. That's what I'll be fighting for this Monday Vince. Redemption not just for a former loss, but for a long life of failure. I'll be giving it my all in a match that to you is pointless and a waste of your talent. Maybe everything will play out like before, you get the better of me and it turns out everyone was right. I don't belong, you're a star in the making, and everything stays on course.
His smile grows wider, his steps quicker, as he brushes his hair out of his face.
Bob: Or maybe, just maybe, Bob Brooks endures the monster that is Vince Jones. Maybe Bob Brooks proves the critics wrong. Maybe Bob Brooks puts big bad Vince Jones on his ass for the count of three, and shocks the fucking world. I'm fighting for the "what if" Vince, what are you fighting for?
Everything fades to black.