Post by nbonhagen on Jun 20, 2024 23:30:54 GMT
[EXT. STREET - NIGHT]
[Perched on a folding steel chair placed dead center of a lone streetlight’s occasionally flickering orange glow, sits NATHANIEL “NATE” BONHAGEN, one foot on either side of the faded yellow line in the middle of the road, his studious expression examining the myriad cracks spiderwebbing across the broken asphalt.]
[Nate narrows his eyes as he looks past the camera to fix his sister, LILY BONHAGEN, with a displeased glare.]
[With his eyes closed, Nate lets out a heavy sigh as he massages the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.]
[For a moment, it seems as though Nate intends to continue arguing, then he shakes his head and follows his sister's advice.]
[Nate gives a ghost of a smile and a slight shake of his head.]
[Nate glances upward, his attention momentarily diverted as the orange glow cast by the lone street light flickers with the telltale electric rattling of a wire filament on the verge of burning out.]
[Nate's mouth twists into a sour grimace of displeasure for a bare instant before he schools his face to stillness.]
[Nate puts on an expression of mock naivety.]
[Nate rolls his eyes with another slight shake of his head, then crosses his right ankle over his left knee.]
[A rattling buzz rises in intensity and volume, ceasing with a muted “POP” as the streetlight burns out, plunging the scene into darkness for a moment before the camera automatically switches over to the grainy green hues of night vision. Nate pays no attention to the change in illumination.]
[Nate stands from his seat and spreads his arms wide.]
[Nate picks up the steel chair, folds it, tucks it under his arm, then turns and begins to walk away. The shot lingers on his back for a moment, before we]
[FADE IN]
[Perched on a folding steel chair placed dead center of a lone streetlight’s occasionally flickering orange glow, sits NATHANIEL “NATE” BONHAGEN, one foot on either side of the faded yellow line in the middle of the road, his studious expression examining the myriad cracks spiderwebbing across the broken asphalt.]
NATE
Once upon a time, this road stretched off into the horizon with promises of a bright future, but constant pressure has left it faded and broken, like so many dreams of glory. With the NPWA's season opener upon us, bearing promises of a bright future for some, I'm wondering who among us will be the first to crack under the pressure. Before the Pre-Season Rumble, I would have bet the first to fall would be the man I find myself forced to partner with once again; Lewis Pinkston. Now, I'm not so certain, though. The Iron Man moniker he adopted after the Rumble is at odds with my first impression of the man; when we teamed together for an exhibition match earlier in the year, his cowardly refusal to participate left a sour taste in my mouth. Though I tried to give Pinkston his fair share of time in the ring, he immediately tagged back out; fortunately, I didn't even break a sweat while dealing with the enhancement talent being fed to us, and was able to handle the entirety of the fight by myself.
LILY (off screen)
(muttering)
And you might have to do it again.
NATE
What was that?
LILY (off screen)
Nothing, I just wouldn't count on the Tin Man for help if I were you.
Once upon a time, this road stretched off into the horizon with promises of a bright future, but constant pressure has left it faded and broken, like so many dreams of glory. With the NPWA's season opener upon us, bearing promises of a bright future for some, I'm wondering who among us will be the first to crack under the pressure. Before the Pre-Season Rumble, I would have bet the first to fall would be the man I find myself forced to partner with once again; Lewis Pinkston. Now, I'm not so certain, though. The Iron Man moniker he adopted after the Rumble is at odds with my first impression of the man; when we teamed together for an exhibition match earlier in the year, his cowardly refusal to participate left a sour taste in my mouth. Though I tried to give Pinkston his fair share of time in the ring, he immediately tagged back out; fortunately, I didn't even break a sweat while dealing with the enhancement talent being fed to us, and was able to handle the entirety of the fight by myself.
LILY (off screen)
(muttering)
And you might have to do it again.
NATE
What was that?
LILY (off screen)
Nothing, I just wouldn't count on the Tin Man for help if I were you.
[Nate narrows his eyes as he looks past the camera to fix his sister, LILY BONHAGEN, with a displeased glare.]
NATE
(flatly)
Lily, what did you do?
LILY
(defensively)
Nothing, I just talked to him. It's not like you need his help against Wally Radical and Captain Chemistry, or whoever the fuck.
(flatly)
Lily, what did you do?
LILY
(defensively)
Nothing, I just talked to him. It's not like you need his help against Wally Radical and Captain Chemistry, or whoever the fuck.
[With his eyes closed, Nate lets out a heavy sigh as he massages the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.]
NATE
(patiently)
Alienating me from the rest of the conference on day one is not the best way to manage my singles career, Lily.
LILY (off screen)
Pinkston's already failed you once, and he hasn't done anything to earn a second chance; forget about him, and focus on Paula Abdul and Holly McNarland, or whoever the fuck.
(patiently)
Alienating me from the rest of the conference on day one is not the best way to manage my singles career, Lily.
LILY (off screen)
Pinkston's already failed you once, and he hasn't done anything to earn a second chance; forget about him, and focus on Paula Abdul and Holly McNarland, or whoever the fuck.
[For a moment, it seems as though Nate intends to continue arguing, then he shakes his head and follows his sister's advice.]
NATE
It's Ollie Maverick and Heather Harland.
LILY (off screen)
Because I give a rat's ass.
NATE
Not many do, at least in Ollie's case. If anyone at all had cared about him while he was growing up, he might not have turned out to be such a broken mess of a human. Now he's even lower than the dregs of society, calling himself the King of Trashland, and repping Guardians merchandise. At least Bonnie Blue had a nice rack, and could actually win a match every now and then, but if Maverick looks up to the likes of Jay Omega - a world renowned choke artist - or the Polar Phantasm - who's flakier than a Kellogg's factory - then I doubt he's got the wherewithal to be a legitimate threat to me. Granted, he's an unhinged nutcase, so his unpredictable nature bears keeping an eye on him, but I don't think I'll have much to worry about.
It's Ollie Maverick and Heather Harland.
LILY (off screen)
Because I give a rat's ass.
NATE
Not many do, at least in Ollie's case. If anyone at all had cared about him while he was growing up, he might not have turned out to be such a broken mess of a human. Now he's even lower than the dregs of society, calling himself the King of Trashland, and repping Guardians merchandise. At least Bonnie Blue had a nice rack, and could actually win a match every now and then, but if Maverick looks up to the likes of Jay Omega - a world renowned choke artist - or the Polar Phantasm - who's flakier than a Kellogg's factory - then I doubt he's got the wherewithal to be a legitimate threat to me. Granted, he's an unhinged nutcase, so his unpredictable nature bears keeping an eye on him, but I don't think I'll have much to worry about.
[Nate gives a ghost of a smile and a slight shake of his head.]
NATE
That's the expected route, isn't it? Build myself up while tearing Ollie down? But then that's playing into the Protagonist Syndrome he's here to lay to rest, isn't it? Well, I see myself as more of an antagonist, anyway. Which forces you into the role of Main Character, Ollie; you're now honor-bound to defeat me, if you can. And, oh, how I want you to try; I want you to beat me, Ollie, even if only to hand a loss to the smug prick I'm forced to team with. Sure, I could throw the match, but that's not my style, and it wouldn't be any fun. But as it stands right now, Maverick, I don't think you can beat me. So I'm going to do you a favor, and push you to the point where you can. I'm going torture you in that ring until the pain forces you to choose to either elevate yourself, or quit under the strain. It'll be fun to see which path you choose; my money's on quit, because your physical strength is as lacking as your mental fortitude.
That's the expected route, isn't it? Build myself up while tearing Ollie down? But then that's playing into the Protagonist Syndrome he's here to lay to rest, isn't it? Well, I see myself as more of an antagonist, anyway. Which forces you into the role of Main Character, Ollie; you're now honor-bound to defeat me, if you can. And, oh, how I want you to try; I want you to beat me, Ollie, even if only to hand a loss to the smug prick I'm forced to team with. Sure, I could throw the match, but that's not my style, and it wouldn't be any fun. But as it stands right now, Maverick, I don't think you can beat me. So I'm going to do you a favor, and push you to the point where you can. I'm going torture you in that ring until the pain forces you to choose to either elevate yourself, or quit under the strain. It'll be fun to see which path you choose; my money's on quit, because your physical strength is as lacking as your mental fortitude.
[Nate glances upward, his attention momentarily diverted as the orange glow cast by the lone street light flickers with the telltale electric rattling of a wire filament on the verge of burning out.]
LILY (off screen)
Enough about Jolly Bohemian, move on to Hannah Montana, or whoever the fuck.
Enough about Jolly Bohemian, move on to Hannah Montana, or whoever the fuck.
[Nate's mouth twists into a sour grimace of displeasure for a bare instant before he schools his face to stillness.]
NATE
Heather Harland, the disgraced military brat; lackey of Joe Montouri, though I doubt she sees it that way. But that's because, for all her vaunted intelligence, Heather lacks insight; into people, into circumstances, and into this business.
Heather Harland, the disgraced military brat; lackey of Joe Montouri, though I doubt she sees it that way. But that's because, for all her vaunted intelligence, Heather lacks insight; into people, into circumstances, and into this business.
[Nate puts on an expression of mock naivety.]
NATE
(imitating female voice)
What? This military biochemistry lab is conducting experiments on our own troops? And rather than take responsibility, the higher ups are passing the buck? Gasp! Shocked Pikachu face! No one could have possibly seen that coming! How to recover from this dishonorable discharge? Oh, maybe bank on nepotistic connections to get a job, then throw in with a bunch of drug addicts and whores; that ought to raise my stock!
(imitating female voice)
What? This military biochemistry lab is conducting experiments on our own troops? And rather than take responsibility, the higher ups are passing the buck? Gasp! Shocked Pikachu face! No one could have possibly seen that coming! How to recover from this dishonorable discharge? Oh, maybe bank on nepotistic connections to get a job, then throw in with a bunch of drug addicts and whores; that ought to raise my stock!
[Nate rolls his eyes with another slight shake of his head, then crosses his right ankle over his left knee.]
NATE
(normal voice)
By immediately allying yourself with self-serving scum like Montouri, you're admitting to the rest of the roster that you don't have enough faith in your own ability; you admit that you can't hack it on your own merit. I could have done something similar; if I cared enough to make use of my father's resources, I could have signed an entire cadre of merciless hardcore veterans to NPWA's roster. The difference between us, Heather, is that I'm not a blatant coward. I fight my own battles, and I don't rely on the recognition of someone else's name. But that's just one of your many rookie mistakes. Your promo for the Rumble is a great example of your lack of insight. Maybe back in the days of WCF - when a promo's runtime was unlimited - the idea of spitting a blurb about each opponent might have worked, but in the here and now, when air time is at a premium? You did exactly what I predicted; you wasted the vast majority of your opportunity trying to be clever, but came off as ignorant. Still, you did well enough to secure a Pacific title shot, even though you had to juice yourself up, and rely on Montouri for help. You might deny those allegations, but you can't see if I'm not listening. You can't hear with my eyes open.
LILY (off screen)
(confused)
What the fuck are you talking about?
NATE
(amused)
Don't worry about it. Smoke another joint, Lily; you'll feel better when you're numb.
LILY (off screen)
Ugh, I shouldn't have mentioned Holly McNarland; you have shit taste in music, Nate.
NATE
Because Gunship is so much better.
LILY (off screen)
Uh, yeah; at least you can dance to Gunship.
NATE
I don't dance.
LILY (off screen)
(teasing)
You can dance if you want to; we've got all your life and mine.
NATE
Don't start. Leave comedy to the clowns.
LILY (off screen)
Like Aluminum Pinky? I think you've covered the bases with Ollie Maverick and Heather Harland, or whoever the fuck; why don't you say a few words about the useless dead weight you've been shackled with?
NATE
(teasing)
You're not that bad, Lily; don't be so hard on yourself.
LILY (off screen)
Fuck you.
NATE
Pass. What else is there to say about Lewis, though? Why even bother?
(normal voice)
By immediately allying yourself with self-serving scum like Montouri, you're admitting to the rest of the roster that you don't have enough faith in your own ability; you admit that you can't hack it on your own merit. I could have done something similar; if I cared enough to make use of my father's resources, I could have signed an entire cadre of merciless hardcore veterans to NPWA's roster. The difference between us, Heather, is that I'm not a blatant coward. I fight my own battles, and I don't rely on the recognition of someone else's name. But that's just one of your many rookie mistakes. Your promo for the Rumble is a great example of your lack of insight. Maybe back in the days of WCF - when a promo's runtime was unlimited - the idea of spitting a blurb about each opponent might have worked, but in the here and now, when air time is at a premium? You did exactly what I predicted; you wasted the vast majority of your opportunity trying to be clever, but came off as ignorant. Still, you did well enough to secure a Pacific title shot, even though you had to juice yourself up, and rely on Montouri for help. You might deny those allegations, but you can't see if I'm not listening. You can't hear with my eyes open.
LILY (off screen)
(confused)
What the fuck are you talking about?
NATE
(amused)
Don't worry about it. Smoke another joint, Lily; you'll feel better when you're numb.
LILY (off screen)
Ugh, I shouldn't have mentioned Holly McNarland; you have shit taste in music, Nate.
NATE
Because Gunship is so much better.
LILY (off screen)
Uh, yeah; at least you can dance to Gunship.
NATE
I don't dance.
LILY (off screen)
(teasing)
You can dance if you want to; we've got all your life and mine.
NATE
Don't start. Leave comedy to the clowns.
LILY (off screen)
Like Aluminum Pinky? I think you've covered the bases with Ollie Maverick and Heather Harland, or whoever the fuck; why don't you say a few words about the useless dead weight you've been shackled with?
NATE
(teasing)
You're not that bad, Lily; don't be so hard on yourself.
LILY (off screen)
Fuck you.
NATE
Pass. What else is there to say about Lewis, though? Why even bother?
[A rattling buzz rises in intensity and volume, ceasing with a muted “POP” as the streetlight burns out, plunging the scene into darkness for a moment before the camera automatically switches over to the grainy green hues of night vision. Nate pays no attention to the change in illumination.]
NATE
I wasn't planning on taking the tag team route to begin with, but after my darling sister spoke with Pinkston - a polite, civil discourse, I'm sure - I get the sense I can count on him even less than I was already expecting to. Which was not at all, so I think my best course of action here is to go into this bout with the mindset of it being a handicap match, and honestly, I'm fine with that. Two to one odds still favors me; Harland's got military combat training to fall back on, and Maverick surely has a high pain tolerance, but training doesn't compare to experience, and no matter how high one's tolerance is, there are limits. Even still, I might - and most likely will - lose this match. Whether due to Pinkston's incompetence, my own rookie mistakes, or simply Heather and Ollie being favored by the luck gods makes no difference. See, unlike almost everyone else on this roster, I'm not here to chase gold, build a legacy, or accumulate accolades. Wins and losses mean less than nothing to me, all I care about is seeing how far you'll go to get what you want; how much you can take before you give in.
I wasn't planning on taking the tag team route to begin with, but after my darling sister spoke with Pinkston - a polite, civil discourse, I'm sure - I get the sense I can count on him even less than I was already expecting to. Which was not at all, so I think my best course of action here is to go into this bout with the mindset of it being a handicap match, and honestly, I'm fine with that. Two to one odds still favors me; Harland's got military combat training to fall back on, and Maverick surely has a high pain tolerance, but training doesn't compare to experience, and no matter how high one's tolerance is, there are limits. Even still, I might - and most likely will - lose this match. Whether due to Pinkston's incompetence, my own rookie mistakes, or simply Heather and Ollie being favored by the luck gods makes no difference. See, unlike almost everyone else on this roster, I'm not here to chase gold, build a legacy, or accumulate accolades. Wins and losses mean less than nothing to me, all I care about is seeing how far you'll go to get what you want; how much you can take before you give in.
[Nate stands from his seat and spreads his arms wide.]
NATE
I'm right where I want to be; in the middle of the road. Even if you stay in your lane, you'll still come up against me. I'm eager to see how all of you fare.
I'm right where I want to be; in the middle of the road. Even if you stay in your lane, you'll still come up against me. I'm eager to see how all of you fare.
[Nate picks up the steel chair, folds it, tucks it under his arm, then turns and begins to walk away. The shot lingers on his back for a moment, before we]
[CUT TO BLACK]