Post by Adrien Cochrane on Jun 19, 2012 12:30:56 GMT -5
“Come on, come on! We need to get him a medical team, stat!”
[Those words fade in and out of Adrien Cochrane’s focus as he is brought to the backstage area of his valiant victory over Justin Freebourne and Ellis Smith. While Adrien is hardly capable of standing up, he did what he had to do. He won the match.]
“Adrien, can you hear me? Adrien?”
Not really…
[Those words, spoken by who Adrien assumes is a member of the medical staff of the Trans-Atlantic Cup Tournament, sound more like the grown-ups in the Charlie Brown cartoons. All he can see is couple of blurry figures standing over him and the mumblings soon fade to nothing.]
[Adrien’s eyes flutter open. Something in the back of his mind makes him believe a large amount of time has passed since he the last conscious moments he can remember. Just as he gentle rolls his head up and sees someone standing in the doorway.]
“About damn time you woke up.”
[If Adrien had the energy, he would give the same perplexed look he gave his last surprise visitor last week. But Adrien felt as lethargic as someone with a week to live due to cancer. The man in his doorway had spiked black hair, with a black bandana around his forehead. If Adrien hadn’t recognized the face, the Dallas Mavericks jersey would have been a big clue as to who the man was. It was the PCW General Manager himself.]
James Baker: “My name is…”
Adrien: “James Baker, General Manager.”
[Adrien responds weakly. Baker gives a smile.]
James: “You’re a fast study. I’m going to have to ask you not to interrupt me again though.”
[The Dropkick King feebly nods.]
Adrien: “Fair enough. May I ask why you are here, sir?”
James: “Well, my first concern was that you wouldn’t be in any condition to compete in the Scars of Wrestling Cup. Fortunately, your doctors assured me you would be.”
Nice to know my general manager is concerned about my wellbeing…
James: “How are you feeling?”
[Weak chuckle and sarcastic tone.]
Adrien: “Never better.”
[James Baker chuckles himself before replying.]
James: “Well, you look like hell. I’m sure Mr. Ryder has already expressed his pleasure for your performance so far in the Trans-Atlantic Cup Tournament. And you’ve turned some heads in your PCW matches as well…enough, at least, to make friends with a certain ally of mine.”
[Adrien smirks.]
James: “As for what I believe, you have potential. As long as you find a way to avoid being in here too often.”
Adrien: “I appreciate the vote of confidence, sir. I won’t let you guys down.”
[Baker gives Adrien a stern look.]
James: “You better not. My respect is an easy thing to lose, Mr. Cochrane. Best of luck at Slamathon and the Trans-Atlantic Tournament and get some rest.”
Adrien: “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
[James Baker leaves the room. Adrien just rests his head back on his pillow and falls asleep almost immediately. It’s going to be a long week for this New Orleanian.]
---------------
“Well look who’s walking around again.”
[Adrien’s eyes dart to the direction of the voice that came from downstairs. He looks down the staircase into his living room to see a man reading a newspaper on his sofa. After reaching the bottom of his staircase, he takes a seat on the recliner adjacent from the sofa.]
Adrien: “What are you still doing here?”
[Chuckle. The man lowers the newspaper. Matt “Python” Pithen shows his sarcastic grin.]
Python: “And so good to see you too.”
[Adrien laughs this time. Python slides Adrien’s first Barq’s since his match across the coffee table. Adrien immediately opens the bottle and starts to slowly sip the beverage.]
Adrien: “Oh sweet nectar of the gods.”
Python: “I thought you were a Christian.”
Adrien: “I am. So how long have you been here?”
[Python turns the page of his newspaper.]
Python: “Since your match. You looked a little bloodied up in the match and saw you being stretchered out. Thought you could use a little house sitting while you were out.”
[Adrien smiles. Not too many people have friends who would fly from New Jersey to Louisiana on a whim to watch your house for you while you’re receiving blood transfusions from being beaten to a bloody pulp. Adrien has always felt blessed to have Matt’s friendship.]
Python: “So how are you feeling?”
Adrien: “I’m fine. Just need to get my land legs back.”
Python: “Good. You have a Scars of Wrestling Cup to win.”
[One more smirk from the Dropkick King.]
Adrien: “That I do, Matthew. That I do.”
---------------------------
“Alright, quiet on the set, everyone! Adrien, you all ready?”
[Adrien Cochrane nods. The PCW film crew has set up in the middle of the Chalmette Battlefield, location of the Battle of New Orleans during the War of 1812 with Great Britain. While the effort given to make sure the quality of Adrien’s video, the heat from the gigantic light pointed at him is starting to get a little intense.]
“Okay…ACTION!”
[The camera pans back to show Adrien standing in front the small fortification where the American troops lined up their cannons. A few of the two hundred year old cannons are still lined up along the edge. Adrien’s spotless black polo shirt and neat blue jeans contrast the dirty walls and cannons on the fortification.]
Adrien: “There are moments in history that have such a huge impact that it launches individuals it involves to great heights. For an example, on this very field almost two hundred years ago, an epic battle between British forces and American forces took place. The clash between Andrew Jackson’s troops and Sir Alexander Cochrane’s…umm…no known relation…ended with the American’s triumph and repelling the British.”
[Adrien kneels down by the nearest cannon, his sunglasses reflecting the image of the cannon.]
Adrien: “The rest, of course, is history. Fourteen years later, Andrew Jackson became the President of the United States. And that’s what this very big week for me is going to be for me. I have two of the biggest matches in my career coming up. I’m facing a tremendously talented competitor in the semi-finals in Tony Miranda. And after that, I will take on Landon Crabtree, Nightrain, and Heather Monroe.”
[The Dropkick King stands back up.]
Adrien: “Back in the first round, Tony Miranda called me a spectator in this tournament, probably not expecting me to reach him in the finals of the Galveston bracket. You see, underestimation is one of the most fatal errors that one can make in this business. You claim not to really know who I am. That’s fine. Whether or not you know or even care about who I am is not important as it will have no bearing on the goal that I have set out for myself. Yeah, this is your home turf. I respect that. But I’m not going to let you overlook me. I’m going into this match fully prepared. You may not give a crap about who I am, but I’ve been doing my homework on you. And I will definitely admit that no one can deny you are a talented individual. Tony, don’t come into Galveston this week thinking you’ve already won this tournament. There’s still a game that has to be played, and you have one determined Dropkick King in your path.”
[Adrien Cochrane cracks a wide smile.]
Adrien: “Now at least Tony Miranda doesn’t act like he’s the greatest in the world. Landon Crabtree and Nightrain could take a lesson from those two. Nightrain gets off on attacking on women like Danielle. Misogynist much? And Landon Crabtree ends all his tweets with G.O.A.T. For those of you who aren’t familiar with that acronym, it means ‘greatest of all time’.”
[Adrien takes a seat on the side of the fortification.]
Adrien: “I’m not going to claim to be the greatest of all time. I’m not going to claim that I’m some sort of wrestling god or that any of my future opponents aren’t capable of winning. I would be lying if I said that. Frankly, we play a game that anyone can win at any time. I’m very aware and have come to terms with the possibility that I can lose. But I know that I can win. And if I can manage to pull this off in my two upcoming matches, it might just catapult me higher than I could have ever imagined me reaching.”
Director: “And CUT! Adrien, you happy with that one?”
[The New Orleans native smiles.]
Adrien: “Works for me, sir.”
[Just as the words leave Adrien’s mouth, singing comes from Adrien’s pocket.]
“TONIIIIIIIIGHT! WE ARE YOUNG!!!!!”
[Adrien glances at the caller ID.]
Leon Lonewolf
[Adrien chuckles as he cheerfully answers his phone]
Adrien: “You’ve reached Adrien.”
[Those words fade in and out of Adrien Cochrane’s focus as he is brought to the backstage area of his valiant victory over Justin Freebourne and Ellis Smith. While Adrien is hardly capable of standing up, he did what he had to do. He won the match.]
“Adrien, can you hear me? Adrien?”
Not really…
[Those words, spoken by who Adrien assumes is a member of the medical staff of the Trans-Atlantic Cup Tournament, sound more like the grown-ups in the Charlie Brown cartoons. All he can see is couple of blurry figures standing over him and the mumblings soon fade to nothing.]
[Adrien’s eyes flutter open. Something in the back of his mind makes him believe a large amount of time has passed since he the last conscious moments he can remember. Just as he gentle rolls his head up and sees someone standing in the doorway.]
“About damn time you woke up.”
[If Adrien had the energy, he would give the same perplexed look he gave his last surprise visitor last week. But Adrien felt as lethargic as someone with a week to live due to cancer. The man in his doorway had spiked black hair, with a black bandana around his forehead. If Adrien hadn’t recognized the face, the Dallas Mavericks jersey would have been a big clue as to who the man was. It was the PCW General Manager himself.]
James Baker: “My name is…”
Adrien: “James Baker, General Manager.”
[Adrien responds weakly. Baker gives a smile.]
James: “You’re a fast study. I’m going to have to ask you not to interrupt me again though.”
[The Dropkick King feebly nods.]
Adrien: “Fair enough. May I ask why you are here, sir?”
James: “Well, my first concern was that you wouldn’t be in any condition to compete in the Scars of Wrestling Cup. Fortunately, your doctors assured me you would be.”
Nice to know my general manager is concerned about my wellbeing…
James: “How are you feeling?”
[Weak chuckle and sarcastic tone.]
Adrien: “Never better.”
[James Baker chuckles himself before replying.]
James: “Well, you look like hell. I’m sure Mr. Ryder has already expressed his pleasure for your performance so far in the Trans-Atlantic Cup Tournament. And you’ve turned some heads in your PCW matches as well…enough, at least, to make friends with a certain ally of mine.”
[Adrien smirks.]
James: “As for what I believe, you have potential. As long as you find a way to avoid being in here too often.”
Adrien: “I appreciate the vote of confidence, sir. I won’t let you guys down.”
[Baker gives Adrien a stern look.]
James: “You better not. My respect is an easy thing to lose, Mr. Cochrane. Best of luck at Slamathon and the Trans-Atlantic Tournament and get some rest.”
Adrien: “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
[James Baker leaves the room. Adrien just rests his head back on his pillow and falls asleep almost immediately. It’s going to be a long week for this New Orleanian.]
---------------
“Well look who’s walking around again.”
[Adrien’s eyes dart to the direction of the voice that came from downstairs. He looks down the staircase into his living room to see a man reading a newspaper on his sofa. After reaching the bottom of his staircase, he takes a seat on the recliner adjacent from the sofa.]
Adrien: “What are you still doing here?”
[Chuckle. The man lowers the newspaper. Matt “Python” Pithen shows his sarcastic grin.]
Python: “And so good to see you too.”
[Adrien laughs this time. Python slides Adrien’s first Barq’s since his match across the coffee table. Adrien immediately opens the bottle and starts to slowly sip the beverage.]
Adrien: “Oh sweet nectar of the gods.”
Python: “I thought you were a Christian.”
Adrien: “I am. So how long have you been here?”
[Python turns the page of his newspaper.]
Python: “Since your match. You looked a little bloodied up in the match and saw you being stretchered out. Thought you could use a little house sitting while you were out.”
[Adrien smiles. Not too many people have friends who would fly from New Jersey to Louisiana on a whim to watch your house for you while you’re receiving blood transfusions from being beaten to a bloody pulp. Adrien has always felt blessed to have Matt’s friendship.]
Python: “So how are you feeling?”
Adrien: “I’m fine. Just need to get my land legs back.”
Python: “Good. You have a Scars of Wrestling Cup to win.”
[One more smirk from the Dropkick King.]
Adrien: “That I do, Matthew. That I do.”
---------------------------
“Alright, quiet on the set, everyone! Adrien, you all ready?”
[Adrien Cochrane nods. The PCW film crew has set up in the middle of the Chalmette Battlefield, location of the Battle of New Orleans during the War of 1812 with Great Britain. While the effort given to make sure the quality of Adrien’s video, the heat from the gigantic light pointed at him is starting to get a little intense.]
“Okay…ACTION!”
[The camera pans back to show Adrien standing in front the small fortification where the American troops lined up their cannons. A few of the two hundred year old cannons are still lined up along the edge. Adrien’s spotless black polo shirt and neat blue jeans contrast the dirty walls and cannons on the fortification.]
Adrien: “There are moments in history that have such a huge impact that it launches individuals it involves to great heights. For an example, on this very field almost two hundred years ago, an epic battle between British forces and American forces took place. The clash between Andrew Jackson’s troops and Sir Alexander Cochrane’s…umm…no known relation…ended with the American’s triumph and repelling the British.”
[Adrien kneels down by the nearest cannon, his sunglasses reflecting the image of the cannon.]
Adrien: “The rest, of course, is history. Fourteen years later, Andrew Jackson became the President of the United States. And that’s what this very big week for me is going to be for me. I have two of the biggest matches in my career coming up. I’m facing a tremendously talented competitor in the semi-finals in Tony Miranda. And after that, I will take on Landon Crabtree, Nightrain, and Heather Monroe.”
[The Dropkick King stands back up.]
Adrien: “Back in the first round, Tony Miranda called me a spectator in this tournament, probably not expecting me to reach him in the finals of the Galveston bracket. You see, underestimation is one of the most fatal errors that one can make in this business. You claim not to really know who I am. That’s fine. Whether or not you know or even care about who I am is not important as it will have no bearing on the goal that I have set out for myself. Yeah, this is your home turf. I respect that. But I’m not going to let you overlook me. I’m going into this match fully prepared. You may not give a crap about who I am, but I’ve been doing my homework on you. And I will definitely admit that no one can deny you are a talented individual. Tony, don’t come into Galveston this week thinking you’ve already won this tournament. There’s still a game that has to be played, and you have one determined Dropkick King in your path.”
[Adrien Cochrane cracks a wide smile.]
Adrien: “Now at least Tony Miranda doesn’t act like he’s the greatest in the world. Landon Crabtree and Nightrain could take a lesson from those two. Nightrain gets off on attacking on women like Danielle. Misogynist much? And Landon Crabtree ends all his tweets with G.O.A.T. For those of you who aren’t familiar with that acronym, it means ‘greatest of all time’.”
[Adrien takes a seat on the side of the fortification.]
Adrien: “I’m not going to claim to be the greatest of all time. I’m not going to claim that I’m some sort of wrestling god or that any of my future opponents aren’t capable of winning. I would be lying if I said that. Frankly, we play a game that anyone can win at any time. I’m very aware and have come to terms with the possibility that I can lose. But I know that I can win. And if I can manage to pull this off in my two upcoming matches, it might just catapult me higher than I could have ever imagined me reaching.”
Director: “And CUT! Adrien, you happy with that one?”
[The New Orleans native smiles.]
Adrien: “Works for me, sir.”
[Just as the words leave Adrien’s mouth, singing comes from Adrien’s pocket.]
“TONIIIIIIIIGHT! WE ARE YOUNG!!!!!”
[Adrien glances at the caller ID.]
Leon Lonewolf
[Adrien chuckles as he cheerfully answers his phone]
Adrien: “You’ve reached Adrien.”
