Post by Damon Graves on Mar 18, 2018 13:02:58 GMT -5
Dublin Ink
Dublin, Ireland
Scene opens inside yet another tattoo parlor. This time, it's Dublin Ink. It's a fairly slow evening, so Damon and the shop’s owner are in the back of the shop, having a conversation.
Norbert: I wanna apologize for the lack of business right now….
Damon: No, it's cool. It was fairly busy earlier, so it wasn't like I've wasted a day or anything.
Norbert: After the success you had in Paris, I was hoping to repeat that here in Dublin.
Damon: I guess Dublin’s just a little more laid back than other places….
Before Norbert can reply, a voice bellows out from the front of the shop.
Voice: Oi! Who's back there that can give me a fucking tattoo?
Both Damon and Norbert look over to see a fairly large man standing a few feet from the entrance, swaying back and forth uneasily.
Man: Nobody fucking heard me back there?
Damon and Norbert close in on him, assessing his demeanor. Norbert stops and shakes his head.
Norbert: Donal, I've told you before that I won't work on you if you're drunk…
Donal looks over at Damon.
Donal: Haven't seen you here before… are you gonna be as daft as this ass?
Damon: No, you're shitfaced, and I'm not got to help you either…
Donal: Fucking Yank…. Just as well…. Probably only know how to do those shitty tribal tattoos that all you Americans seem to love.
A slight crease in Damon's brow is the only indicator of his annoyance.
Donal: Nothing to say, Yank?
Norbert: This man is a guest in my shop, and I will NOT have you disrespect him….
Donal: Fuck off, ya…
Donal steps up to Norbert and goes to put his hands on him, but Damon is much quicker and before he can even think, the drunken intruder is firmly locked in a hammerlock, with Damon’s other arm around his neck.
Damon: You’ve worn out your welcome here, jackass. Time for you to leave, but before you go, you’re going to apologize to Norbert for acting like a fucking tool…
Donal: Eat a bag of shite….
Damon: Wrong answer, dickhead.
Damon applies more pressure on the hold and after a second or two, Donal is almost howling in pain.
Donal: All right, ALL RIGHT!! I FUCKING APOLOGIZE!!!
Norbert: I’m telling you right now, you’re barred from this establishment, so get the fuck out of my shop.
Damon maintains the hold as he steers Donal towards the door, which Norbert is holding open. Damon gives a shove as he releases the drunkard out into the street. Donal opens his mouth to say something, but thinks better of it and walks off with his head down.
Damon: Hell of a way to end a day….
Norbert: Sorry you had to see that, Damon.
Damon: Nothing to be sorry for, Norbert. The shop I apprenticed at? Owner had a baseball bat and he knew how to use it.
Norbert walks over to the reception desk, leans down, and retrieves a baseball bat.
Norbert: Kinda like this one?
Damon: My wife Aurora mans the front desk at our shop when she isn’t piercing, so she has a set of brass knuckles….
Norbert: If she’s as tough as you say she is, I wouldn’t want to get on her bad side…
Both men burst out laughing as the scene fades out.
Scene fades in outside Dublin Ink, as Damon waves goodbye to Norbert. He’s standing outside the front door, staring at his right hand. A sly smirk forms on his face as he then hooks his thumbs into his belt loops and looks up into the camera.
Damon: You know something? I'm beginning to wonder if my recent string of matches is intended to be a compliment or a punishment.
One after the other, I've basically been running the gauntlet with the members of the Guardians…. Multiple matches against Goldstein… A tag team match vs Cochrane and Sears… a singles match vs Cochrane…. and now, a singles match vs Jazmyn Rain.
He scoffs.
Damon: The pessimist in me says that I'm being run through the grinder with the Guardians because my big mouth has gotten me in trouble with the powers that be. Considering that part of the reason I joined Rebel Society was to put a few knots in the heads of those Destroyer fucknuggets, this series of events COULD be taken as a meaningless distraction. With Rebel Society and the Guardians at odds, the Destroyers could just sit back and watch the fireworks.
But….
He stares into the camera with his eyebrow arched.
Damon: Let's look at the flip side of the coin, shall we?
He pulls a coin out of his pocket and casually flips it into the air. He catches the coin without effort, then flips it again. As he walks away from the tattoo shop, he continues flipping the coin.
Damon: From a personal standpoint, if I were to take a step back and look at all of this rationally, I really don't have much room to complain. I'm facing some of the very best that NGW has to offer. I may not be winning every single match, but I'm not making a fool of myself either.
Jazmyn, out of all the Guardians, you're the one that I have the least amount of history with, but that doesn't mean that I know nothing about you. It's not as if you're invisible, ya know. You and me, we're running a somewhat parallel path. You're making headway towards a confrontation with Jack Tillman over the Five Lakes title, while I'm chasing Scotty Latimer’s worthless ass over the Young Lions Championship. Both of us have a good head of steam built up, driving us towards our goals. That's where the problem lies, Jazmyn. There's no real way that both of us could walk out of Dissension with all of that momentum intact. One of us is going to have to eat that loss and hit a stumbling block. Too many times lately, I've been the one to carve another notch in the “L” column.
Damon stops in his tracks. As the coin once again falls down, he swipes his hand, snatching it out of the air rather than waiting for it to fall into his hand. His cold green eyes stare into the camera.
Damon: That's not happening at Dissension, Jazmyn. I know you're gonna be fired up, especially after you took a comment I made about Adrien Cochrane completely out of context. But if that's how you wanna play it, fine by me.
He pauses for a moment, shaking his head as he chuckles.
Damon: No… it would be too easy for me to fall into that trap, Jazmyn. You’d love for me to just come at you with all of the piss and vinegar that I’ve thrown at everyone else, just so you can throw it back at me. Adrien did it… Hell, his manager couldn’t help but flap his gums in my direction, and Goldstein had to be strapped into a straightjacket and attacked by dogs just to get him to make a feeble attempt at insulting me.
Am I ignorant? No… I just call things like I see them, and right now, I see you struggling to crawl out from under Adrien’s shadow. Rising Star? That may be true, but that doesn’t change the fact that when people hear the name “Guardians,” yours is rarely the first name that comes up. Nah… more often than not, it’s Adrien’s name that’s first out of their mouths. I don’t know about you, Jazmyn, but I sure as hell don’t control what the fans say. But what the fuck do I know? I’m just a wrestler that slings ink on the side.
But by all means… keep doing what you’re doing. Keep flying off the handle and letting your own frustrations get the better of you. Because the more you do that when we’re in the ring, the more likely you are to make a mistake. Just remember... all it takes is one little slip-up, and it will all be over.
This Sunday at Dissension, this ignorant, thick-headed, self-centered asshole is gonna get one step closer to the Young Lions Championship, and if you have a problem with that, too fucking bad….
Scene fades out as he continues to walk down the street.
