Post by BRADDOCK on Aug 3, 2023 15:24:52 GMT -5
The freeway flies by under the tires of BRADDOCK's oh-nine Chevy Malibu. “Destroyer" by Static X thunders from the speakers and he bangs his head in beat to the song. He glances in the rear view before quickly glancing over his right shoulder and then guides his car into the empty lane to his right. He passes a slow moving Hyundai with a raised middle finger thrust out the open window. The blinker blinks on and then barely off when he glides back over into the fast lane. “Destroyer" ends and is replaced by “Surfacing" from Slipknot.
This is how it goes for the next few hours as he drives from Los Angeles, back to Stockton, after a sparring session with a friend of his. He eventually pulls into the driveway of his double-wide within the “Vista Verde" mobile home park. Where a small patch of grass once stood in now a barren patch of dirt. With the state gripped in the claws of a drought, he quit watering the small lawn, as opposed to most of his neighbors. If they don’t have a luscious green lawn, they have gravel or Astro turf.
He enters the home into a small laundry room where he pulls his shirt off and tosses it into the nearly full washer. He exits the laundry room, into a hall, and turns to the right where he proceeds to his bedroom. The faint scent of Nag Champa incense, burnt marijuana, and stale beer hangs in the air but is a familiar, if not welcome scent. He flops onto his bed and stretches his joints. They pop like a string of firecrackers and he lets out a loud groan (you know that groan….it feels so good!) He pushes the power button on the television remote and the episode of “The Office" where Dwight fakes an office fire is about halfway over. He fires up a half of a joint he never finished smoking and left on the nightstand and enjoys the show marathon. When he drifts off, Michael is pissing everyone off….you know the epidsode…
The following morning, a friend of his swings by with some camera equipment and he is heavily tattooed as well but looks a little less….rough? than our O.C.W. competitor does. Tyler sets up the camera on the patio while Braddock downs a PBR and fires up his grill. Braddock opens a second PBR and chugs about half of it.
When the camera starts recording, BRADDOCK is sitting on a green plastic patio chair next to a weathered, old picnic table with a can of PBR resting on the table top near him. He is wearing a t-shirt that has been cut into a tank top with Charles Manson's bug eyed face staring back at you. His Mohawk is standing in a row of messy spikes and stubble shades his cheeks and jaw. Behind him, a man in a pair of khaki Dickies, black and white Adidas, a white wife beater with an unbuttoned, loud Hawaiian shirt and aviators tends to a smoking bar-b-q. A dog barks in the background, kids shout and squeal at play in the distance, and sirens from police, ambulances, and firetrucks are soundtrack for this promotional clip.
”What up? Allow me to introduce myself; I am BRADDOCK and I am the newest face to join the ranks of RISE. I may not have been running the ranks of indy feds the past few years but I assure you, I know what I am doing when the bell sounds. I have worked outlaw mugshots, backyard feds, fought in parking lots and bars; working on the big stage ain’t gonna be nothin to slow me down.
Now, granted, I don’t have stock in AquaNet nor do I have the Farrah Fawcett haircut. And what I lack in a Charlie Angel’s cosplay kit I more than make up for with my knock-your-teeth out abilities. What can I say? I’m a bit old fashioned.” he says with a shrug. Tyler flips the steaks in the background while Braddock drains the can of PBR.
”I joined Outcast Wrestling looking to fight some of the best in the World. Unfortunately this week, I’ve been booked against the boy who cried Wolf. There ain’t much sadder than a grown ass man callin himself ‘Alpha’ anything. Mothf(bleep)ker be lookin like he’s in a Winger cover band. I'ma be doin him a favor when I beat his ass into an early retirment.”
”Word…” chimes in Tyler from the background. His friends sudden addition to the conversation brings a smirk to Braddock’s face. Tyler places a fresh PBR against Braddock's right arm and the big man jumps, not expecting the cold can to be placed against his arm, before taking it with a laugh and a slap of “five" between the two.
”Adam, I don’t know you from…well…Adam but that’s not gonna stop me from beating you like I caught ya stealin somethin from me. I’m sure you’ve got a ton of experience that I should be prepared for but, truthfully, I don’t give a damn. Guys like you are all the same; punch em in the face and watch their will to fight dissolve from within. Don’t worry, though, when all is said and done, you will still have that f(bleep!)ked up haircut. See ya soon, Farrah…”
Just as he is wrapping it up, three women walk into the shot from off camera. Two blondes, wearing tank tops and jeans shorts that are barely there, as well as a red head in a Lamb of God tour shirt cut into a crop top and a pair of yoga pant style black leggings. The two blondes make their way straight to Tyler, who is still manning the grill, while the Ginger wraps her arms around him from behind with a smile.
”You are the Alpha. I am the Omega. You're the Wolf. I am the Man… “ the camera fades out as BRADDOCK stands up. The last thing we see before the scene abruptly cuts out is BRADDOCK lifting the redhead up with a hand gripping each ass cheek.
This is how it goes for the next few hours as he drives from Los Angeles, back to Stockton, after a sparring session with a friend of his. He eventually pulls into the driveway of his double-wide within the “Vista Verde" mobile home park. Where a small patch of grass once stood in now a barren patch of dirt. With the state gripped in the claws of a drought, he quit watering the small lawn, as opposed to most of his neighbors. If they don’t have a luscious green lawn, they have gravel or Astro turf.
He enters the home into a small laundry room where he pulls his shirt off and tosses it into the nearly full washer. He exits the laundry room, into a hall, and turns to the right where he proceeds to his bedroom. The faint scent of Nag Champa incense, burnt marijuana, and stale beer hangs in the air but is a familiar, if not welcome scent. He flops onto his bed and stretches his joints. They pop like a string of firecrackers and he lets out a loud groan (you know that groan….it feels so good!) He pushes the power button on the television remote and the episode of “The Office" where Dwight fakes an office fire is about halfway over. He fires up a half of a joint he never finished smoking and left on the nightstand and enjoys the show marathon. When he drifts off, Michael is pissing everyone off….you know the epidsode…
The following morning, a friend of his swings by with some camera equipment and he is heavily tattooed as well but looks a little less….rough? than our O.C.W. competitor does. Tyler sets up the camera on the patio while Braddock downs a PBR and fires up his grill. Braddock opens a second PBR and chugs about half of it.
When the camera starts recording, BRADDOCK is sitting on a green plastic patio chair next to a weathered, old picnic table with a can of PBR resting on the table top near him. He is wearing a t-shirt that has been cut into a tank top with Charles Manson's bug eyed face staring back at you. His Mohawk is standing in a row of messy spikes and stubble shades his cheeks and jaw. Behind him, a man in a pair of khaki Dickies, black and white Adidas, a white wife beater with an unbuttoned, loud Hawaiian shirt and aviators tends to a smoking bar-b-q. A dog barks in the background, kids shout and squeal at play in the distance, and sirens from police, ambulances, and firetrucks are soundtrack for this promotional clip.
”What up? Allow me to introduce myself; I am BRADDOCK and I am the newest face to join the ranks of RISE. I may not have been running the ranks of indy feds the past few years but I assure you, I know what I am doing when the bell sounds. I have worked outlaw mugshots, backyard feds, fought in parking lots and bars; working on the big stage ain’t gonna be nothin to slow me down.
Now, granted, I don’t have stock in AquaNet nor do I have the Farrah Fawcett haircut. And what I lack in a Charlie Angel’s cosplay kit I more than make up for with my knock-your-teeth out abilities. What can I say? I’m a bit old fashioned.” he says with a shrug. Tyler flips the steaks in the background while Braddock drains the can of PBR.
”I joined Outcast Wrestling looking to fight some of the best in the World. Unfortunately this week, I’ve been booked against the boy who cried Wolf. There ain’t much sadder than a grown ass man callin himself ‘Alpha’ anything. Mothf(bleep)ker be lookin like he’s in a Winger cover band. I'ma be doin him a favor when I beat his ass into an early retirment.”
”Word…” chimes in Tyler from the background. His friends sudden addition to the conversation brings a smirk to Braddock’s face. Tyler places a fresh PBR against Braddock's right arm and the big man jumps, not expecting the cold can to be placed against his arm, before taking it with a laugh and a slap of “five" between the two.
”Adam, I don’t know you from…well…Adam but that’s not gonna stop me from beating you like I caught ya stealin somethin from me. I’m sure you’ve got a ton of experience that I should be prepared for but, truthfully, I don’t give a damn. Guys like you are all the same; punch em in the face and watch their will to fight dissolve from within. Don’t worry, though, when all is said and done, you will still have that f(bleep!)ked up haircut. See ya soon, Farrah…”
Just as he is wrapping it up, three women walk into the shot from off camera. Two blondes, wearing tank tops and jeans shorts that are barely there, as well as a red head in a Lamb of God tour shirt cut into a crop top and a pair of yoga pant style black leggings. The two blondes make their way straight to Tyler, who is still manning the grill, while the Ginger wraps her arms around him from behind with a smile.
”You are the Alpha. I am the Omega. You're the Wolf. I am the Man… “ the camera fades out as BRADDOCK stands up. The last thing we see before the scene abruptly cuts out is BRADDOCK lifting the redhead up with a hand gripping each ass cheek.