The scene opens. We come into a small club like setting. The lighting is of a dark purple against the black walls and there are a few people in the club. The frame comes in closer and comes to the bar where we are met with a huge figure, drinking. The huge figure slowly spins around, revealing it to be Big D. Smooth. He grabs his glass of dark scotch from the bar and faces the camera, adjusting his sunglasses.
Big D. Smooth: Yo! What it do? Aaron Wolf I be talking to you. It's clear that you can talk a lot of game and talk yourself up, but your yet to actually back anything up. Let me ask the question Wolfey... What are you hiding from? Is it me? Is it Storme? Or is it the fact you know you couldn't beat anyone here at 4DK on a count of your non-existent fighting skills and big mouth? I mean give me a break, every time you open your mouth it's a joke... You sound like a joke, you look like a joke and shit...
You embody everything that a joke is. You can keep hiding out if you want Aaron Wolf but eventually everyone here is going to figure out that your scared of something. Sure you can hide Wolf, but the least you could do for the rest of us is stop talking complete trash shit without the intent to back it up.
I'm there in the ring proving myself on 4DK, your out on 4DK.com defending yourself, from allegations that your a turncoat and a coward. How can you defend allegations that are true? The only real way to defend yourself in this business is to take someone on in a match... But your no where to be seen. Only heard. That's because your a coward.
You can sit there at your computer on your ass bitch, you can say what's on your mind but my ass rich. I back my shit up form ten to ten, Wolf you just a talker and I'm tired of you so Steve Storme talk to em.'
The frame in the scene spins out. We are taken away from the bar and pan through the club. We finally stop at a dark platform behind a red velvet robe. A sign reads reserved. Suddenly a light comes on above the reserved space and reveals a number of people. The one in the back is revealed to be Steve Storme. The camera zooms in and he slouches forward.
Storme: Aaron Wolf... you know, once upon a time, you had some potential, kid. I remember back in 09, you were doing alright for yourself. Like you're so quick to tell everyone, you even reached the Courage Cup final before losing to Kyle Evers. Not bad.
But then you fell off; started losing matches to guys like Jakob Azazel and the rest of the curtain jerkers. What happened, Aaron? Did you get too full of yourself? An ego is fine if you can back up the bold claims but every time you open your mouth, you spout a load of bullshit you fail to prove.
I'm a true legend of this business. I've beaten so many headliners, won so many championships and ended so many careers. As for you? Well shit, your greatest achievement is losing a match. That's nothing to brag about. If you really think that's something I should be impressed by then you're an even bigger moron than your blogs imply.
How old are you again? Grow up a little, we're off penis jokes and other playground jibes. Reading through that crap gives me a headache, it's like I'm on the Facebook wall of an ADHD tween on a sugar rush. Do you really think you're funny? The stuff you say is straight embarrassing.
Smooth is right, you're a coward. Every time you launch a comeback, you run back to your bitch because you can't hang with my level. So keep hiding behind your mail order bride but don't expect anyone to take you seriously. If you're too pussy to step through those ropes then why talk shit to the guys that aren't? I just don't get it.
Thick-skulled punk kids like you need to be euthanized or something, I tell ya...
*What You Gonna Do Wolf?*
The club setting zooms out to see Storme and Smooth both sitting in there respective ends of the club. Slowly the frame is taken over by smoke until we can't see anymore.
Fade Out
