OOC: Yes this could be considered slightly racist. Yes, every main character I introduce will be a play on words.
Yes, I’m using regional dialect for this character for a little while.
July 25th 2013 11:00 AM – Barry’s Gym, Newcastle UK
A tall, tattooed man sits on the weight bench, towel around his neck his face and tank top rife with sweat. He takes a deep breath in as he lies back and takes the barbell into his chalked hands. He pushes up, lifting it off the catches and takes the full mass onto his muscles. Proceeding into the set the man’s breath becomes heavier, thicker as the muscles are strained to achieve absolute peak physical conditioning. After a set of seven the barbell is placed back onto the catch and once again the man sits up on the bench, leaning over to pick up his flask. Water droplets spout off as the man pulls the mouth piece open. A brief delay before the bottle is brought up to his mouth and the rejuvenating liquid rushes down his throat. After gulping down the last of his water he wipes his mouth with the back of his forearm and places the flask on the floor. Taking the towel round his neck in both hands he lifts it up over his head, ducking underneath slightly and brings it onto his face. The saline solution is blurring his vision and is flows steadily into his eyes. The gym session has been harder today. It’s been more demanding. The man picks up his flask and walks over to the water fountain so he can refill.
Voice: Hey! Hey Chris!
The sweating man we now can call Chris turns around to see a slightly taller, well defined black man jogging towards him. This individual is instantly recognised as Al Cole Holl, known in certain circles as “Damn Al”. Alan is a man in his mid thirties and an infamous amateur boxer around these parts known for his excessive drinking, excessive use of the word damn and his right haymaker (his left one is also well known, a short children’s story entitled “How Al Cole Holl will knock you out” was published about it, but it never sold well so we don’t talk about it).
Damn Al: Yo whut’s up Chris? You’ve been hitting the weights hard haven’t ye boy?
Chris: Alreet Alan? I…
Damn Al: Damn. You know my name’s not Alan boy. Born and bred as Al Cole Holl. Want to see my birth certificate? I’ll prove it to you.
Chris: Yeah, sorry Al… As I was saying: I need to train harder. I’ve finally signed a contract. Going to be wres…
Damn Al: HOLD ON A MOTHERFUCKING DAMN SECOND BOY! You gots signed? DAMN! You gon’ be a damn wrestler?
Chris: Yes. I’m going to be a wrestler. As I was saying: I’m going to be wrestling for a title in my first match for ‘sea-ge-
Damn Al: Damn, the title? In yo’ first match? That’s something to tell them bairns about. Erm, if you have any.
Chris: YES! That’s what I said!
Damn Al: Easy boy. I hear you. No need to blow your damn head off. Damn.
Chris: AS I WAS SAYING: the title match will be for ‘sea-gee-dub-ewe’ Classic, so I need to train even harder than ever so I can last in the ring and actually mi--
Damn Al: Damn boy all you been doing is working on your physique. That don’t mean shit unless you know how to move.
Chris: *sighs* And I suppose you know how to move?
Damn Al: Damn son, you know I can move. Not only am I a former amateur boxing champion, I’m also a former dance champion. Michael kiddiefucking Jackson could have learnt some moves from mean. Dance moves I mean. Not kiddie fucking. That shit ain’t what I’m into.
Chris: I’ve seen some of the women you’re into. I really don’t want to get started on that.
Damn Al: Shut yo’ damn mouth. Anyway, step into the ring with me. I’ll show you what the movement is all about son.
Chris rubs his face with both his palms. He’s tired, but in the back of his head he knows Al is right. He’s strong but agility is certainly where he lacks surely he could spare a quarter of an hour to spar? He’s flying out to America in the upcoming few days so he might as well take this opportunity.
Chris (laughing): Alreet Al we can spar for a bit.
Damn Al: Damn boy that’s what I’m talking about.
Chris throws his towel to the bench at the side and walks over to the sparring equipment with Al following suit. Chris picks up the blue protective head gear in two hands. He’s about to put it on but is interrupted by Al slapping it down.
Damn Al: Whatchudoingboy? You don’t need no damn headgear. You won’t have that damn stuff when yo’s is wrestling so why use it now? Just stick the gloves on, don’t want you breaking no hands before you even get to wrestle, do we boy?
Chris: Aye whatever Al, you’re the gaffer.
Damn Al: You damn right I am. Now get in that ring so I can show you what it’s about.
Both Chris and Al jump up to the ring apron in one, surprisingly athletic, bound. Whereas Chris pulls himself over the top rope, Al chooses to step between the top and middle ropes into the ring.
Damn Al: Alright this is how it’s gon’ work. I gon’ count down from three. On one we can start. Ready?
Chris: Why aye.
Damn Al: ‘Reet. Three. Two. One.
Chris tries to catch the slightly older fellow off guard and crouches down low before bursting forward, his hand drawn back ready to strike. When close enough, Al simply side steps and lets Chris play his running uppercut straight into one of Al Cole Holl’s legendary right haymakers. Chris hits the mat like a sack of potatoes, his eye already beginning to swell.
Damn Al: Damn, you ain’t so much of a pretty boy anymore.
Chris (holding his face): WHAT THE FUCKING HELL MAN?! IT WAS A MOTHERFUCKING SPARRING SESSION!
Damn Al: Damn what yo’ mad at me for? Told ye you need to work on your footwork. All I did was step to the side and let you eat my punch. It’s stuff like that you gots to work on.
Chris manages to pull himself up from the mat, still keeping a hand over the left side of his face where the fist connected.
Chris: Aye I will when I’m in America. I’ll buy a skipping rope or something.
Damn Al: Like hell you are boy. I’m coming with you.
Chris: You what? I think ye’ve been twatted in the head one too many times lad.
Damn Al: Damn man don’t you ever shut up? I’ve decided I’m gon’ be your coach. Now get back over there, we gots to work on your movement boy…
-----------------------------------
DAY OF EVENT – Moments before the match
The scene opens with the newly signed wrestler Chris Dolmeth stood in the ring. The crowd is mostly silent bar the few chanting “Who the fuck are you?” in a System of a Down’s B.Y.O.B-esque style. And who can blame them? This character is unknown – why should they give a rat’s ass about who he is? The Tweaker raises a hand to ring side, signalling for a microphone. The staff dawdles and are slow to meet this request but eventually a microphone is thrown into the ring.
Dolmeth (under his breath): God fucking dammit.
Dolmeth bends down and picks up the microphone from the canvas and places it to his mouth.
Dolmeth (inaudible): Ladies and gentlemen.
Crowd: WHAT?!
Dolmeth (inaudible): What you are about to witness is history in the making. This wee English bairn…
Crowd: WHAT?!
Dolmeth (inaudible): IT MEANS CHILD! Or kid. You stupid Americans.
Crowd: WHAT?!
A member of staff catches the corner of Dolmeth’s eye and he looks as they signal a fault with that microphone. It turns out it hasn’t been turned on. Embarrassed, Dolmeth gingerly turns the microphone on, trying to conceal what he’s actually doing from the wrestling fans. He starts over again.
Dolmeth: Ladies and gentlemen. What you are about to witness is history in the making. This small English lad grew up watching such spectacles of sports entertainment knowing full well that he would one day take centre stage. In mere moments that one boys dream will come true, as he crushes his peers’ dreams in the ring. We’ve got an open invitational for the title and from the looks of things half the people lined up have gone through at least one lobotomy. Two in Danny Boltz case. How did we come to this? Why does management believe these men are deserving of a spot in a match against me? I…
As Chris is speaking a referee runs down the ramp and slides into the ring, causing Chris to change focal. Shortly afterwards music hits as the second competitor makes their way to the ring. Dolmeth throws the microphone to the side and prepares as the match is about to go underway.
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Subject: Mayhem TV 1.1 - RP Thread 
Fri Jul 26, 2013 5:56 pm
