Post by photographerbob on Aug 8, 2014 20:23:57 GMT -6
The scene fades in to show a bunch of cardboard boxes that are taped up with words written on the side of them in black marker. One reads "Kitchen Supplies" another reads "Work Stuff" and a third box simply labeled as "Porn". As the camera zooms out a bit we can notice the room is part of Photographer Bob Brooks' studio apartment. We soon spot Bob himself walk in with another box that reads "Bedroom decor" as he lays it down and begins to tape it shut. He's interrupted by a knock on his door. Bob instinctively backs up and clenches his fist, like he's expecting some sort of paranormal ghost or demon to pop through and rip his throat out or something. Bob very slowly and cautiously makes his way towards the door, looking through the little hole to spot whose on the other side. Whoever, or whatever it is, causes Bob to let out a sigh of relief. Bob unlocked the latches and opens the door, and in walks head of talent Samuel Johnson. Bob goes back to packing up his shit, as Sam walks around looking at all the boxes with a look of confusion on his face.
Sam: Jesus Bob, what is going on here? You won't answer your phone or return my calls. You could of shot a guy a text, or an email, or sent a freaking carrier pigeon or something. I mean it wasn't exactly a short drive to come see you face to face you know.
Bob: Yeah, sorry about that Sam. I just really wasn't ready to hear what it is you've got to tell me.
He continues to box up some of his possessions, as another box labeled "More Porn" gets set with the rest of the boxes. Sam starts to put the pieces together, and tries to figure out what's going on inside Bob's head.
Sam: You planning on moving somewhere Bobby?
Bob looks up, as he rubs his face and shakes his head.
Bob: Unfortunately. I really like this pad Sammy, I just can't afford to pay the bills with the income I make from taking pictures alone. Without Unchained Wrestling Alliance throwing me some extra change, I'm pretty much forced to relocate somewhere a little cheaper.
It's all starting to make sense, as Samuel walks over to Bob and places a hand on his shoulder.
Sam: Bob, buddy, I gotta ask... Why do you think I'm here?
Bob looks to his left, then to his right, then looks up at Sam.
Bob: It's pretty obvious to me Sammy. I lost again. You guys went and found a better version of me in Katarina, and I was pretty mad at first but I get it man. She's got the whole photography thing going on like I do, but is much more attractive. Her history is tragic, but undoubtedly more interesting than mine. She does just about everything I do, but better.
He looks completely defeated, as Bob slinks down to the floor, bringing his knees up to his chest and clutching his legs into his arms.
Bob: Ya know, I thought it was gonna happen right after I lost to her and Sky. Then you guys booked me against The Protector. It didn't make sense to me, and I won't lie, some really messed up ideas started finding their way into my head Sammy. I mean I lost to Darren, and The Protector broke his freaking neck. I thought you guys were setting me up for failure at one point, feeding me to The Protector in hopes he'd snap my neck in two just like he did to Darren. I fought like hell Sammy, did my best to protect myself from a guy who claims he's protecting me. I survived but...
He begins to rock back and forth ever so slightly, as he looks up at Sam with tears in his eyes.
Bob: I lost man. I get it, really man I do. It's just hard, always feeling like a loser. I was never the coolest kid growing up, never excelled in sports, was never the smartest, spent most my life being ignored by everyone. I thought it was over though, I was getting paid to do what I love, I was allowed to share the ring, the center stage, where all eyes were on me for once. I'm just not ready to lose that Sammy.
Sam shakes his head, as Bob manages to push himself up off the floor.
Bob: But you gotta do what you gotta do Sam. I know it wasn't your decision, you're just the messenger. So go on, lets get this over with.
He takes in a deep breath, clenches his fist and prepares for the worst. Instead, Samuel pulls him in for a hug.
Sam: Don't be an idiot Bob, I'm not here to take your job away from you.
Bob: WHAT!?
They separate, as Bob looks up at Sam.
Sam: Quite the opposite actually. I'm here to tell you about your next match. Ya might want to brace yourself Bobby because this one is a doozy.
Bob takes in a deep breath, trying to brace himself for the news. Sam smiles wide as delivers what he thinks is good news.
Sam: The higher ups are giving you the opportunity of a lifetime Bob, they've got you booked one on one with our World Heavyweight Champion Aerynn Donnelly. Talk about your time to shine right.
The head of talent is expecting Bob to cheer up, crack a smile, maybe unpack some of his things. Instead Bob staggers backwards, falling against the wall and sliding back down to the floor. Bob just stares ahead, not looking at anything in particular, looking like a deer in the headlights.
Bob: I can't believe it. I was right. You guys aren't just going to let me go, you're gonna send me to get destroyed like so many others have in this company. It's more profitable to show someone get broken then it is fire them, and you guys aren't wasting any time sending me to the slaughter. Aerynn freaking Donnelly is going to end me.
Sam: Don't be ridiculous Bobby, nobody wants you to get hurt.
It's no use, Bob has already made up his mind, as he looks back up at Sam.
Bob: Sorry Sammy, but I think it'd be best if you'd leave now.
Sam: Bob I...
Bob: Just go.
Bob points towards the door, and Sam lets out a sigh. There is nothing that can be said to change Bob's mind, so Sam reluctantly heads towards the door and leaves Bob alone.
A few hours pass, Bob trying to find a way out. At the end of it all, the only solution he could come up with, was to talk forward, straight into the massacre that awaits him, and hope by some miracle he makes it out the other side in one piece. He's taken a camera out of one of his boxes, and has set it up on a tripod, pointing at him, and a few boxes that lay behind him. He hits the record button, and addresses his upcoming opponent, who as far as he's concerned, may very well be his last.
Bob: Hello ladies and gentlemen. My name, is Robert Oscar Brooks. I am twenty four years old, I love photography, filmography, and professional wrestling. While my life hasn't been ideal, I have been blessed with the opportunity to work in all three of these professions at one point in another. I'm not exactly the perfect human being. Try as I might, I've never been a successful social butterfly. I haven't added much to this world outside of a few neat pictures that only hold meaning for the people who paid me to take them. I like to think some people might remember me fondly for the few matches I've had so far in Unchained Wrestling Alliance, but I believe as of right now I am simply a small blip on a much larger scale of things. I don't always say the right things, and on multiple occasions I may have crossed some boundaries with the opposite sex. I don't recall ever touching anyone inappropriately, but I suppose words can be just as damaging. I guess what I'm trying to say, is that I know I'm a pervert, I know my eyes have chosen staring at a woman's body over looking her in the eyes. I know I've said some things that were a bit crude, and crass. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry, and that I didn't mean any disrespect. I just get so freaking...
His words just sort of fall off, as Bob looks down and begins to tug on his hair. This video shoot is starting to sound more like a Catholic confessional than an actual wrestling promotion.
Bob: Flawed as I am, I believe deep down that I am a good man. I just want to make people happy, and have a good time myself. Whether it's taking the perfect photo for a young woman who wants to look beautiful in her senior picture, or amazing a crowd by throwing caution to the wind, and diving from the top rope through an opponent or two. Regardless of what I've done, I don't believe I deserve to be in the position I find myself in today. Since coming to UWA, I've had my fair share of ups and downs. From day one I was shown that nothing was going to be given to me. I scratched and clawed to pick up a few wins over J-Shades, only to be sent crashing back down by a pair of beauties and a man in a mask. Now I am headed into one on one combat against the best this company has to offer, which means the most dangerous person in the company.
The entire vibe is beginning to feel like a man giving his last words before being publicly hanged in medieval times.
Bob: It's funny, not too long ago being booked to compete against World Champion Aerynn Donnelly would have been like a dream to me. In fact, there are a couple of dream scenarios I could think up with Aerynn Donnelly.
As distraught as Bob seems to be, the inner pervert in him seems to be strong enough to force him to crack a small smile, as the dimwit goes a little bit too far into detail about those other dreams.
Bob: Me and the blonde beauty go out for a few drinks. We start a bit of a contest out of it, one that she obviously wins. Everyone is having a good time, we call up a cab and take the party to the local motel. Things escalate pretty quickly, kissing leads to touching, we start ripping each others clothes off, we eventually find our way to the bed, by then Aerynn is wetter than an Irish Spring and...
Like before, his words just sort of trail off into nothing, as his eyes go wide and he realizes what he's been rambling on about.
Bob: That isn't what I'm trying to talk about here. The point I'm making, is as a kid competing with a world champion, taking center stage with the best in the company used to be something I'd look at with pride, as an accomplishment. I always figured I'd earn the opportunity with a couple of impressive victories, and go on to prove I deserve to be a part of the business I grew up loving. Now, it's been turned into a nightmare. I'm coming off of back to back losses, and can't help but feel the only thing I've earned is a pink slip and to be shown the door. So somebody, please explain to me, if not to be punished, why was this match even made in the first place?
It's possible Bob could have managed to convince Aerynn not to kill him, had he not previously rambled on about dreams of plowing her lady parts.
Bob: There is no other explanation. I am a lamb, being lead to the slaughter. Aerynn Donnelly on a normal occasion is scary enough, but recently the lass has been hellbent on proving a point to The Children of Nephilim. She wants to turn into an even more vicious monster than he's already proven capable of being. In other words, she's looking to send a message, and I'm the poor sap she looks to send that message with.
He takes in another deep breath, as a single tear drops from his eye and down his cheek.
Bob: I'm not the brightest guy on the planet, but I'm also no idiot. I understand the most likely outcome of this match. Odds are I'm gonna get bruised, bloodied, and battered before Aerynn decides she's had her fill and knocks my teeth down my throat. Realistically there is a ninety nine percent chance I don't make it out of this match in one piece, yet for some stupid reason I can't convince myself to run. It should be so easy for me, just don't show up. Run away, start somewhere new, try and make a living with my camera instead of my body. Every fiber of my being is screaming at me to not show up Monday Night, and yet I know deep down, that I'm going to. Nothing can be said or done, to stop me from lacing my boots and walking out there to me my demise, because I don't want to give up wrestling, I don't want to give up competing, I don't want to give up one of the few things that I love, that made me feel like it might have loved me back.
He's scared, so much he can't even pick himself up off the floor. His heart is racing, he's cold, yet sweat is still pouring down his face. His hands are shaking, but somehow Bob manages to force himself to look into the camera, as he does what little he can to fight back his own insecurities.
Bob: I doubt you even knew who I was before this match became official Aerynn. Just some small nobody blending in with the masses. You've got your eyes on bigger fish, people who actually matter, specifically, Joshua McBride. I'm just an obstacle in your way. It might be futile, but I'm not just gonna lay down and let you bulldoze through me like I'm nothing. I'm gonna scratch tooth and nail, I'm going to force you to forget about McBride, forget about The Children, forget about Brody, even if it's only for a few minutes, because I'd rather go out in a fiery blaze, then to crawl up into the fetal position and get beaten back into obscurity. Most likely scenario, people will know who I am, the guy who pushed the World Heavyweight Champion to her limit, and wouldn't stay down until she broke him in half.
It takes every ounce of willpower Bob's got, but he manages to push himself up to his feet. He wipes the tears out of his eyes, puffs out his chest, and does his best to put on a smile.
Bob: And maybe, just maybe, if I play my cards right, you play your cards wrong, and the planets and the stars align just right, maybe I find a way to beat you. Then I can't be ignored any more, I can't be overlooked, can't be pitied. Monday night you'll be looking to use me as a way to send a message, but maybe it'll be me who uses you to send a message. In victory or defeat, I'll show the world that Bob Brooks, is a name worth remembering.
Everything fades to black.
Sam: Jesus Bob, what is going on here? You won't answer your phone or return my calls. You could of shot a guy a text, or an email, or sent a freaking carrier pigeon or something. I mean it wasn't exactly a short drive to come see you face to face you know.
Bob: Yeah, sorry about that Sam. I just really wasn't ready to hear what it is you've got to tell me.
He continues to box up some of his possessions, as another box labeled "More Porn" gets set with the rest of the boxes. Sam starts to put the pieces together, and tries to figure out what's going on inside Bob's head.
Sam: You planning on moving somewhere Bobby?
Bob looks up, as he rubs his face and shakes his head.
Bob: Unfortunately. I really like this pad Sammy, I just can't afford to pay the bills with the income I make from taking pictures alone. Without Unchained Wrestling Alliance throwing me some extra change, I'm pretty much forced to relocate somewhere a little cheaper.
It's all starting to make sense, as Samuel walks over to Bob and places a hand on his shoulder.
Sam: Bob, buddy, I gotta ask... Why do you think I'm here?
Bob looks to his left, then to his right, then looks up at Sam.
Bob: It's pretty obvious to me Sammy. I lost again. You guys went and found a better version of me in Katarina, and I was pretty mad at first but I get it man. She's got the whole photography thing going on like I do, but is much more attractive. Her history is tragic, but undoubtedly more interesting than mine. She does just about everything I do, but better.
He looks completely defeated, as Bob slinks down to the floor, bringing his knees up to his chest and clutching his legs into his arms.
Bob: Ya know, I thought it was gonna happen right after I lost to her and Sky. Then you guys booked me against The Protector. It didn't make sense to me, and I won't lie, some really messed up ideas started finding their way into my head Sammy. I mean I lost to Darren, and The Protector broke his freaking neck. I thought you guys were setting me up for failure at one point, feeding me to The Protector in hopes he'd snap my neck in two just like he did to Darren. I fought like hell Sammy, did my best to protect myself from a guy who claims he's protecting me. I survived but...
He begins to rock back and forth ever so slightly, as he looks up at Sam with tears in his eyes.
Bob: I lost man. I get it, really man I do. It's just hard, always feeling like a loser. I was never the coolest kid growing up, never excelled in sports, was never the smartest, spent most my life being ignored by everyone. I thought it was over though, I was getting paid to do what I love, I was allowed to share the ring, the center stage, where all eyes were on me for once. I'm just not ready to lose that Sammy.
Sam shakes his head, as Bob manages to push himself up off the floor.
Bob: But you gotta do what you gotta do Sam. I know it wasn't your decision, you're just the messenger. So go on, lets get this over with.
He takes in a deep breath, clenches his fist and prepares for the worst. Instead, Samuel pulls him in for a hug.
Sam: Don't be an idiot Bob, I'm not here to take your job away from you.
Bob: WHAT!?
They separate, as Bob looks up at Sam.
Sam: Quite the opposite actually. I'm here to tell you about your next match. Ya might want to brace yourself Bobby because this one is a doozy.
Bob takes in a deep breath, trying to brace himself for the news. Sam smiles wide as delivers what he thinks is good news.
Sam: The higher ups are giving you the opportunity of a lifetime Bob, they've got you booked one on one with our World Heavyweight Champion Aerynn Donnelly. Talk about your time to shine right.
The head of talent is expecting Bob to cheer up, crack a smile, maybe unpack some of his things. Instead Bob staggers backwards, falling against the wall and sliding back down to the floor. Bob just stares ahead, not looking at anything in particular, looking like a deer in the headlights.
Bob: I can't believe it. I was right. You guys aren't just going to let me go, you're gonna send me to get destroyed like so many others have in this company. It's more profitable to show someone get broken then it is fire them, and you guys aren't wasting any time sending me to the slaughter. Aerynn freaking Donnelly is going to end me.
Sam: Don't be ridiculous Bobby, nobody wants you to get hurt.
It's no use, Bob has already made up his mind, as he looks back up at Sam.
Bob: Sorry Sammy, but I think it'd be best if you'd leave now.
Sam: Bob I...
Bob: Just go.
Bob points towards the door, and Sam lets out a sigh. There is nothing that can be said to change Bob's mind, so Sam reluctantly heads towards the door and leaves Bob alone.
A few hours pass, Bob trying to find a way out. At the end of it all, the only solution he could come up with, was to talk forward, straight into the massacre that awaits him, and hope by some miracle he makes it out the other side in one piece. He's taken a camera out of one of his boxes, and has set it up on a tripod, pointing at him, and a few boxes that lay behind him. He hits the record button, and addresses his upcoming opponent, who as far as he's concerned, may very well be his last.
Bob: Hello ladies and gentlemen. My name, is Robert Oscar Brooks. I am twenty four years old, I love photography, filmography, and professional wrestling. While my life hasn't been ideal, I have been blessed with the opportunity to work in all three of these professions at one point in another. I'm not exactly the perfect human being. Try as I might, I've never been a successful social butterfly. I haven't added much to this world outside of a few neat pictures that only hold meaning for the people who paid me to take them. I like to think some people might remember me fondly for the few matches I've had so far in Unchained Wrestling Alliance, but I believe as of right now I am simply a small blip on a much larger scale of things. I don't always say the right things, and on multiple occasions I may have crossed some boundaries with the opposite sex. I don't recall ever touching anyone inappropriately, but I suppose words can be just as damaging. I guess what I'm trying to say, is that I know I'm a pervert, I know my eyes have chosen staring at a woman's body over looking her in the eyes. I know I've said some things that were a bit crude, and crass. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry, and that I didn't mean any disrespect. I just get so freaking...
His words just sort of fall off, as Bob looks down and begins to tug on his hair. This video shoot is starting to sound more like a Catholic confessional than an actual wrestling promotion.
Bob: Flawed as I am, I believe deep down that I am a good man. I just want to make people happy, and have a good time myself. Whether it's taking the perfect photo for a young woman who wants to look beautiful in her senior picture, or amazing a crowd by throwing caution to the wind, and diving from the top rope through an opponent or two. Regardless of what I've done, I don't believe I deserve to be in the position I find myself in today. Since coming to UWA, I've had my fair share of ups and downs. From day one I was shown that nothing was going to be given to me. I scratched and clawed to pick up a few wins over J-Shades, only to be sent crashing back down by a pair of beauties and a man in a mask. Now I am headed into one on one combat against the best this company has to offer, which means the most dangerous person in the company.
The entire vibe is beginning to feel like a man giving his last words before being publicly hanged in medieval times.
Bob: It's funny, not too long ago being booked to compete against World Champion Aerynn Donnelly would have been like a dream to me. In fact, there are a couple of dream scenarios I could think up with Aerynn Donnelly.
As distraught as Bob seems to be, the inner pervert in him seems to be strong enough to force him to crack a small smile, as the dimwit goes a little bit too far into detail about those other dreams.
Bob: Me and the blonde beauty go out for a few drinks. We start a bit of a contest out of it, one that she obviously wins. Everyone is having a good time, we call up a cab and take the party to the local motel. Things escalate pretty quickly, kissing leads to touching, we start ripping each others clothes off, we eventually find our way to the bed, by then Aerynn is wetter than an Irish Spring and...
Like before, his words just sort of trail off into nothing, as his eyes go wide and he realizes what he's been rambling on about.
Bob: That isn't what I'm trying to talk about here. The point I'm making, is as a kid competing with a world champion, taking center stage with the best in the company used to be something I'd look at with pride, as an accomplishment. I always figured I'd earn the opportunity with a couple of impressive victories, and go on to prove I deserve to be a part of the business I grew up loving. Now, it's been turned into a nightmare. I'm coming off of back to back losses, and can't help but feel the only thing I've earned is a pink slip and to be shown the door. So somebody, please explain to me, if not to be punished, why was this match even made in the first place?
It's possible Bob could have managed to convince Aerynn not to kill him, had he not previously rambled on about dreams of plowing her lady parts.
Bob: There is no other explanation. I am a lamb, being lead to the slaughter. Aerynn Donnelly on a normal occasion is scary enough, but recently the lass has been hellbent on proving a point to The Children of Nephilim. She wants to turn into an even more vicious monster than he's already proven capable of being. In other words, she's looking to send a message, and I'm the poor sap she looks to send that message with.
He takes in another deep breath, as a single tear drops from his eye and down his cheek.
Bob: I'm not the brightest guy on the planet, but I'm also no idiot. I understand the most likely outcome of this match. Odds are I'm gonna get bruised, bloodied, and battered before Aerynn decides she's had her fill and knocks my teeth down my throat. Realistically there is a ninety nine percent chance I don't make it out of this match in one piece, yet for some stupid reason I can't convince myself to run. It should be so easy for me, just don't show up. Run away, start somewhere new, try and make a living with my camera instead of my body. Every fiber of my being is screaming at me to not show up Monday Night, and yet I know deep down, that I'm going to. Nothing can be said or done, to stop me from lacing my boots and walking out there to me my demise, because I don't want to give up wrestling, I don't want to give up competing, I don't want to give up one of the few things that I love, that made me feel like it might have loved me back.
He's scared, so much he can't even pick himself up off the floor. His heart is racing, he's cold, yet sweat is still pouring down his face. His hands are shaking, but somehow Bob manages to force himself to look into the camera, as he does what little he can to fight back his own insecurities.
Bob: I doubt you even knew who I was before this match became official Aerynn. Just some small nobody blending in with the masses. You've got your eyes on bigger fish, people who actually matter, specifically, Joshua McBride. I'm just an obstacle in your way. It might be futile, but I'm not just gonna lay down and let you bulldoze through me like I'm nothing. I'm gonna scratch tooth and nail, I'm going to force you to forget about McBride, forget about The Children, forget about Brody, even if it's only for a few minutes, because I'd rather go out in a fiery blaze, then to crawl up into the fetal position and get beaten back into obscurity. Most likely scenario, people will know who I am, the guy who pushed the World Heavyweight Champion to her limit, and wouldn't stay down until she broke him in half.
It takes every ounce of willpower Bob's got, but he manages to push himself up to his feet. He wipes the tears out of his eyes, puffs out his chest, and does his best to put on a smile.
Bob: And maybe, just maybe, if I play my cards right, you play your cards wrong, and the planets and the stars align just right, maybe I find a way to beat you. Then I can't be ignored any more, I can't be overlooked, can't be pitied. Monday night you'll be looking to use me as a way to send a message, but maybe it'll be me who uses you to send a message. In victory or defeat, I'll show the world that Bob Brooks, is a name worth remembering.
Everything fades to black.