Post by Steve Sinclair on Feb 24, 2016 23:19:32 GMT
”10….15 years ago when I didn’t give a flying you know what, I would take someone like Tim, Sunday Night Heat with his stupid preppy haircut, smug smile and overly cocky attitude and that little boy would need a stretcher to remove himself from the ring.”
Leaning up against a wall is Steve Sinclair. Where he is, could be anywhere. Pretty nondescript place.
”I was never one to put up with one’s lip. If you were to going to stand there and run your mouth spewing a bunch of nonsense, especially when it’s aimed towards me, then you better have a couple months supply of bendy straws for breakfast lunch and dinner because you will need them. Admittedly, I was in a different place, both mentally and physically. Now that I am older, wiser…”
Steve tries to hide a tiny little smirk. He glances up quickly as he admits the one fact of his life nowadays that keeps him walk the straight and narrow.
”And not wanting to get popped for breaking my parole more than anything these days it has in a way, chilled me out some. I have learned over the years to let some comments slide to the wayside. Like today. I’ve listened to you Tim run your trap and you know, if I wanted to go back to one of New York’s finest establishments for guys like me, I would find you at Only the Strong Survive and we would have a real short conversation in the back and you would never make it to that ring and face Sutton for the chance to become the Number One Contenders to the UWL Triple Crown Championship. I’m sure there are some around here would wish I would do such a thing just for the peace and quiet. It’s tempting….real tempting. Not going to lie about this one. To get your blood all over my fist, to inflict so much damage to your face that you’re dead grandma would cry, it would warm my heart.”
Steve lets out a sigh, the disappointment he has right now that he can’t get his hands dirty anymore almost has him depressed.
”Sometimes in life you just have to settle for the next best thing. Like when I sat in prison for a year, I really wished my cell was 12 by 12 but all I could get was a 9 by 12 cell. The extra leg room would have been nice and this weekend when Sutton beats on ya, beats you and goes on to face Craig Williams, I guess I will have to settle watching Billy f*ck you up.”
The camera pans a little to the right and leaning up against the wall is Sutton.
“You might have to settle for that, but I won’t be settling for anything less than planting him firmly in the mat. You have ran your mouth, talked a big game and if that chest of yours was any more inflated you could be mistaken for the goodyear blimp. I’ve watched you tip your toes into making Shine like that is suppose to get me going. Like that was suppose to get me mad. It didn’t though. It had zero affect on me. I hope you make even more for all I care. I’ve watched you package them in little coffins like that is going to scare me or something. And now I’ve seen you load them in the back of a herse.”
Billy shrugs.
“You better bring that with you to Only the Strong Survive so they have something to load you into at ringside after I batter you with ladders, after I drive you through tables and open your skull up with several chairs. You can talk all you want Tim. You can come up with all of the stories you want about how I lost to some guy who is no longer around in the UWL after he stole my car, the record books might show a W in his win column, but in the long run the record book will show that I ultimately won that battle. I am the last man standing. I am the last hard man….whatever that is worth. I took that from him, I put the old man down, dragged him out to the pasture and but a bullet in the back of his head. That match, that little win he got, meant nothing. Like the win you got about this time last month. It meant nothing.”
Billy pushes himself off of the wall.
“But the win I’ll get this week over you, mean everything. All I have ever wanted was a fair shot at that Triple Crown and to get that shot, all I have to do is punish you, break you and make you bleed and by god….it’s going to happen. One way or another, I will rise up from the wreckage we will leave in that ring and I will be the last man standing. There is no trademark you need to attach to that, there is no corporate sponsors paying me to say that, it’s what going to happen, me having my hand raised in victory as I get one step closer to that UWL Triple Crown Championship.”
Billy nods.
“And then, after that, I will sit down with a jar of real shine, made by someone with real talent and it’s going to be the best damn jar Shine I have ever drank, till I drink the jar after I am the new Triple Crown Champion.”
Scene fades out.
Leaning up against a wall is Steve Sinclair. Where he is, could be anywhere. Pretty nondescript place.
”I was never one to put up with one’s lip. If you were to going to stand there and run your mouth spewing a bunch of nonsense, especially when it’s aimed towards me, then you better have a couple months supply of bendy straws for breakfast lunch and dinner because you will need them. Admittedly, I was in a different place, both mentally and physically. Now that I am older, wiser…”
Steve tries to hide a tiny little smirk. He glances up quickly as he admits the one fact of his life nowadays that keeps him walk the straight and narrow.
”And not wanting to get popped for breaking my parole more than anything these days it has in a way, chilled me out some. I have learned over the years to let some comments slide to the wayside. Like today. I’ve listened to you Tim run your trap and you know, if I wanted to go back to one of New York’s finest establishments for guys like me, I would find you at Only the Strong Survive and we would have a real short conversation in the back and you would never make it to that ring and face Sutton for the chance to become the Number One Contenders to the UWL Triple Crown Championship. I’m sure there are some around here would wish I would do such a thing just for the peace and quiet. It’s tempting….real tempting. Not going to lie about this one. To get your blood all over my fist, to inflict so much damage to your face that you’re dead grandma would cry, it would warm my heart.”
Steve lets out a sigh, the disappointment he has right now that he can’t get his hands dirty anymore almost has him depressed.
”Sometimes in life you just have to settle for the next best thing. Like when I sat in prison for a year, I really wished my cell was 12 by 12 but all I could get was a 9 by 12 cell. The extra leg room would have been nice and this weekend when Sutton beats on ya, beats you and goes on to face Craig Williams, I guess I will have to settle watching Billy f*ck you up.”
The camera pans a little to the right and leaning up against the wall is Sutton.
“You might have to settle for that, but I won’t be settling for anything less than planting him firmly in the mat. You have ran your mouth, talked a big game and if that chest of yours was any more inflated you could be mistaken for the goodyear blimp. I’ve watched you tip your toes into making Shine like that is suppose to get me going. Like that was suppose to get me mad. It didn’t though. It had zero affect on me. I hope you make even more for all I care. I’ve watched you package them in little coffins like that is going to scare me or something. And now I’ve seen you load them in the back of a herse.”
Billy shrugs.
“You better bring that with you to Only the Strong Survive so they have something to load you into at ringside after I batter you with ladders, after I drive you through tables and open your skull up with several chairs. You can talk all you want Tim. You can come up with all of the stories you want about how I lost to some guy who is no longer around in the UWL after he stole my car, the record books might show a W in his win column, but in the long run the record book will show that I ultimately won that battle. I am the last man standing. I am the last hard man….whatever that is worth. I took that from him, I put the old man down, dragged him out to the pasture and but a bullet in the back of his head. That match, that little win he got, meant nothing. Like the win you got about this time last month. It meant nothing.”
Billy pushes himself off of the wall.
“But the win I’ll get this week over you, mean everything. All I have ever wanted was a fair shot at that Triple Crown and to get that shot, all I have to do is punish you, break you and make you bleed and by god….it’s going to happen. One way or another, I will rise up from the wreckage we will leave in that ring and I will be the last man standing. There is no trademark you need to attach to that, there is no corporate sponsors paying me to say that, it’s what going to happen, me having my hand raised in victory as I get one step closer to that UWL Triple Crown Championship.”
Billy nods.
“And then, after that, I will sit down with a jar of real shine, made by someone with real talent and it’s going to be the best damn jar Shine I have ever drank, till I drink the jar after I am the new Triple Crown Champion.”
Scene fades out.