Post by virus on Aug 14, 2012 5:33:37 GMT -5
[Scene opens in an alley... it's pitch black, except for two street lights, one of them flickering on and off. There are tall buildings on either side of the alley, not a single light on in any of the windows. There is trash all over the ground. Behind a large, blue dumpster, we see a tan colored tent. The tent is beat up-- big rips, burn holes and stains cover it. As the camera approaches the tent, we see a shadow of someone inside, and a faint light illuminating the inside of the tent. As we reach the tent, we see it is surrounded by empty beer cans, half-empty bottles of alcohol, small plastic baggies on the ground, and we notice the unmistakable sight of an orange-capped syringe amongst the bottles. Finally, a man crawls out of the tent. He is shirtless, exposing his somewhat-built body-- he's not ripped by any means, but he has some muscle definition. His khaki cargo shorts hang from his waist with a peice of rope in place of a belt. The man is barefoot. He has shoulder length, dark brown hair and maybe a week's worth of growth on his facial hair. His face, however, is ruggedly handsome-- he looks like a man who should be wearing an expensive Italian suit, not looking like the homeless person that he is. He takes a seat in the alley on top of a cardboard box and leans against the building-- stumbling and swaying from side to side, he is clearly intoxicated. He picks up a half-smoked cigarette off the ground-- maybe it's his from earlier, maybe it's someone else's trash. He strikes a match and lights up, taking a long drag and exhaling as he throws the match to the ground. He acknowledges the camera with a nod.]
Virus: I see you've found my home.
[He motions towards the tent. His speech is somewhat slurred.]
Virus: The assholes at the shelter won't let anybody in after 7PM. When I miss the curfew, I stay here-- it's more comfortable here, anyone. Nobody around to bother me.
[He takes another drag of the cigarette and looks towards the moon hanging in the sky.]
Virus: I suppose you want to know a little about me, right. Well, I'm not much of a talker, so don't expect my fucking life story. I joined the UWA because I need a job, and there ain't much out there right now... 'specially for a guy like me.
[He stares at the cameraman for a few moments.]
Virus: Don't give me that look, prick. What, you feel sorry for me? I don't need your fucking sympathy. I've got everything I need right here in my tent. I haven't lived like this forever. I've had homes, cars... a family, money, everything that a guy in America is supposed to want, and supposed to have. I've had good jobs-- well, what some people would consider to be good jobs. And you know what? None of that shit made me happy. I've had enough of the fucking rat race.
[He flicks the cigarette butt on the ground.]
Virus: At this point, I just want to fight. I like to fight. I like to hurt people. Does that make me a bad person? No. It makes me a fucking human being, a human being who is honest with himself. I like booze, smokes, I like getting high... I like to fuck women. See, I'm real. I'm not like you phony monkeys who run around trying to please everyone, trying to act how society dictates for you to behave. I do what the fuck I feel like doing. And right now, I don't feel like talking to you. When I make my debut in the UWA ring, you'll see what the fuck I am made of. You'll see the type of person that I am. All those questions you probably have for me, you can shove them up your ass. All of your questions will be answered when I feel like answering them. And the most important question will be answered when I step foot in the ring, and prove that I am nothing less than an animal, nothing less than the UWA rosters' worst nightmare. People will be hurt, hell, people's careers may be ended. That's what I'm here for. To kill things. To kill dreams.
I understand they're throwing me into some kind of ridiculous match with three other people. I suppose they expect me to get lost in the shuffle. They don't understand what I'm capable of. I'll dismantle and destroy every single person they put in my way. I will be the focus of this match. I will be the one that people remember-- not only because I'm going to win, but because I'm going to leave everyone else in the match a bloody mess. There's nothing else to say. I'm not gonna sit here and shit talk about three other guys who I've never met and know nothing about. That's not important. What's important is, after Rush Hour on Wednesday, they'll be remembered as the three guys who lost to Virus in his debut match. After that, they can do whatever the fuck they want.
[He tries to get up, but stumbles to his knees. He begins to crawl back towards the inside of the tent.]
Virus: Now leave me the fuck alone.
[He goes back into the tent, and the light inside the tent turns off. The camera slowly backs away, and we fade out.]
Virus: I see you've found my home.
[He motions towards the tent. His speech is somewhat slurred.]
Virus: The assholes at the shelter won't let anybody in after 7PM. When I miss the curfew, I stay here-- it's more comfortable here, anyone. Nobody around to bother me.
[He takes another drag of the cigarette and looks towards the moon hanging in the sky.]
Virus: I suppose you want to know a little about me, right. Well, I'm not much of a talker, so don't expect my fucking life story. I joined the UWA because I need a job, and there ain't much out there right now... 'specially for a guy like me.
[He stares at the cameraman for a few moments.]
Virus: Don't give me that look, prick. What, you feel sorry for me? I don't need your fucking sympathy. I've got everything I need right here in my tent. I haven't lived like this forever. I've had homes, cars... a family, money, everything that a guy in America is supposed to want, and supposed to have. I've had good jobs-- well, what some people would consider to be good jobs. And you know what? None of that shit made me happy. I've had enough of the fucking rat race.
[He flicks the cigarette butt on the ground.]
Virus: At this point, I just want to fight. I like to fight. I like to hurt people. Does that make me a bad person? No. It makes me a fucking human being, a human being who is honest with himself. I like booze, smokes, I like getting high... I like to fuck women. See, I'm real. I'm not like you phony monkeys who run around trying to please everyone, trying to act how society dictates for you to behave. I do what the fuck I feel like doing. And right now, I don't feel like talking to you. When I make my debut in the UWA ring, you'll see what the fuck I am made of. You'll see the type of person that I am. All those questions you probably have for me, you can shove them up your ass. All of your questions will be answered when I feel like answering them. And the most important question will be answered when I step foot in the ring, and prove that I am nothing less than an animal, nothing less than the UWA rosters' worst nightmare. People will be hurt, hell, people's careers may be ended. That's what I'm here for. To kill things. To kill dreams.
I understand they're throwing me into some kind of ridiculous match with three other people. I suppose they expect me to get lost in the shuffle. They don't understand what I'm capable of. I'll dismantle and destroy every single person they put in my way. I will be the focus of this match. I will be the one that people remember-- not only because I'm going to win, but because I'm going to leave everyone else in the match a bloody mess. There's nothing else to say. I'm not gonna sit here and shit talk about three other guys who I've never met and know nothing about. That's not important. What's important is, after Rush Hour on Wednesday, they'll be remembered as the three guys who lost to Virus in his debut match. After that, they can do whatever the fuck they want.
[He tries to get up, but stumbles to his knees. He begins to crawl back towards the inside of the tent.]
Virus: Now leave me the fuck alone.
[He goes back into the tent, and the light inside the tent turns off. The camera slowly backs away, and we fade out.]
