| Welcome to Full Intensity Wrestling. We hope you enjoy your visit. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| Lady in red. | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 15 2008, 01:41 PM (70 Views) | |
| Poirot | Apr 15 2008, 01:41 PM Post #1 |
|
Unregistered
|
The day has been odd. Blake feels that victory was stolen from him this week on ReVolt and even worse about the fact that he's been delegated to the internet pre-show this week. All in all not a good week for our chairman of the board, but Blake never lets himself down and is always back with a plan. After all, you didn't simply think Orange Industries fell into his lap after his father died did you? Blake had to fight the vultures away to gain control, and had to fight even harder from the confines of a small steel room to maintain control over it, whilst in prison. A mistaken assumption about Blake would be to assume he's had it all from the get go. This is how people underestimate Blake. Blake Orange stands infront of the mirror. As he runs his fingers through his recently trimmed hair, he takes a second to admire it as it falls back into place. His attire is the finest he has, save for the tuxedo his father left him before he died. A simple black shirt buttoned down with small silver buttons, solid black jeans, and a pair of leather boots. Simple, yet upscale. We are in Blake's appartment. Blake gazes at himself in the mirror narcissisticly. Knock Knock A rap on the door. A few seconds of silence followed by the commanding voice. Blake Orange: Enter. The door slowly opens, letting in a crack of light to the dimly lit room. Our entrant is none other than Blake's henchman, the devious Mr. Blond. Blond enters the room and probes with his eyes, puzzled to why Blake is standing in such a gloomy room but his face betrays none of this. Mr. Blond: Job's ah good 'un Boss, she read yer lettur an' seemed mighty intur-ehsted 'n what ya had ta say. Blake Orange: Good... she should consider wisely before making any rash decisions, don't you agree Blond? Mr. Blond simply shrugs and places a piece of paper on the side table and takes a seat in the corner of the room, placing his feet on the yin-yang coffee table. Blake Orange: Is that her response? Mr. Blond: Yeah. Blake Orange: Have you read it? Mr. Blond: Yeah. Blake Orange: Give me the jist of it. Mr. Blond: Well Boss, Miss Coh-lard sez she be happy tuh help us 'n aneh way that eithur you or she see's fit. Blake pauses for a moment, suprised. He didn't see that response coming. Blake turns away from his body length mirror and walks over to Blond and the note on the table, this time his eyes betray suprise. Blake Orange: Well, I didn't expect that. Mr. Blond: She were mighty accamah-datin' boss! hur hur! Blake Orange: So I've heard. Blake tears the strip of paper into tiny pieces and throws them in the fire. The light from the blaze reflecting in Blake's pale blue eyes. Blond has climbed to his feet and is lighting a thick brown cigar from the burning ember. Mr. Blond: Ya gotsta speak 'bout yur match this week soon. Ah'n the stuff that happund on Sunday. Blake Orange: Don't worry, once all this nonsense with our lady friend is out of the way, Mr. O'Reily and the others will be hearing from me. Blond takes another cigar from his silver case and offers one to Blake, who declines as we fade out. |
|
|
| « Previous Topic · Oni's ReVolution · Next Topic » |
| Theme: Zeta Original | Track Topic · E-mail Topic |
2:33 PM Jul 11
|





2:33 PM Jul 11