Post by straightedge on Oct 2, 2012 20:55:13 GMT -5
[Adelaide, Australia - 11:20 A.M]
* Eleven in the morning and it is a beautiful day as expected in Adelaide, Australia, perfect actually compared to the otherwise unpredictable city climate. The sun is shining bright, the grass had seemingly never been greener, and the birds were full of life and chirping in the morning, it was a great start to a great day… and what better way to enjoy such a paradise than to be stretched across the back seat of a heavily-tinted sedan, thumbs on Iphone tweeting away, intentionally cutting through an ugly industrial block…
…because that’s how James Best rolls. *
James Best : "Driver can’t this thing go any faster? Unbelievable!!"
* James adjusts his dark shades and tilts his head to the driver with a groan, recklessly tossing the Iphone aside, which bounces from the leather interior across the floor. Clearly affected by a severe hangover, with various empty vodka bottles at his feet doing nothing to remedy it, James grumbles and lurches upright, leaning back into his comfy seat. *
James Best : "We should have been at the airport already you idiot. Where did you learn to drive, the same place you sold your kidney for a green card?!! "
Driver: "I was born in Australia, sir… "
James Best : "IRRELEVANT!!"
James Best : "THANK YOU!"
* The sedan effortlessly rolls past the Airport entrance signage, and the passenger planes are already veering in overhead, cars everywhere. *
Driver: "We’re here, sir. Shall I be driving to the domestic or international terminal?"
James Best : "INTERNATIONAL, STUPID!! WHERE IS YOUR LOGIC? You know what, WHO are you? What’s your name, your full name, this is ridiculous!"
Driver: "My name is Mustafa, I’ve been your driver for two years now, sir."
James Best : "Mustafa? Mustafa? What is that Puerto Rican? God damn immigrants! Just get out of the car and get the bags, Musta-fa, and don’t drop anything… idiot!"
* The driver, Mustafa, sighs deeply and exits the sedan, opening the door for the best-selling author, with James snarling back at him and yawning, checking his BlackBerry and stepping it out oblivious to the struggling driver-turned-valet behind him. Before James Best had so much as approached the automatic doors leading into the Qantas lounge, camera crews were already on standby and hurry over in a mass of microphones and spotlights. *
Paparazzi: "JAMES! JAMES BEST!!"
James attempts to shield himself in the crowd, reluctantly surrendering to the media with an uneasy grin.
James Best : "Yeah, yeah. Who are you, TMZ?"
Paparazzi: "Gloria Fox, Seven News. A quick word before you leave the country!"
James Best : "Seven News? A local network?? Are you serious? Fuck off."
* James shoves his way past the smiling news reporter, turning back and snapping his fingers at Mustafa, who heaves a plethora of bags back up from the ground and jots behind him. *
Paparazzi: "Come on, James! You’re one of the biggest stories in wrestling right now. People aspire to be you!"
* James Best stops in his tracks, and Mustafa drops the bags with relief behind him. *
James Best : "Aspire to be me, aspire to be me?? These uneducated Neanderthals will never be me, these Australians are like trained monkeys, feed them enough bananas and they’ll give you a song and dance, then ask for more. They lack class, they lack charisma, they have no jobs, no social skills, no personality, a culture based entirely on alcoholism, so you tell me how in the hell these people can ever be on the same level as James Best, the best wrestler in the world? "
Paparazzi: "Well is the mighty James Best on the same level as Millennium Pro Wrestling?"
* James smirks a crooked smirk, taking the microphone in his own hand. *
James Best : "Very good, very good. It seems you have more knowledge of my travel plans than my own limo-driver over there. Yes I am leaving this supposed ‘lucky country’ for a life more tailored to my glamorous lifestyle, and when I say I am leaving, I am leaving the Australian wrestling scene forever because quite frankly, it sucks."
Paparazzi: "Oh, so the fact that you haven’t wrote a best-selling book in the last three years has nothing to do with the payday MPW have offered you?"
James Best : "My financial status has nothing to do with my signing with MPW. I am purely a competitor in search of the best competition I can find and nothing more, I am not motivated by money, I’m motivated by the fact that I am simply the best. You want to delve into my business, You want to ask about my money?? Here… go buy yourself a coffee and go fuck yourself at my expense.
No further comment, Mustafa… move!"
* James Best throws the news reporter all the cash in his wallet, who watches in shock as the bills are dumped on her, and swaggers away whistling with Mustafa eventually tots behind him. *
END.
OOC: haven't written a promo in ages lol.
* Eleven in the morning and it is a beautiful day as expected in Adelaide, Australia, perfect actually compared to the otherwise unpredictable city climate. The sun is shining bright, the grass had seemingly never been greener, and the birds were full of life and chirping in the morning, it was a great start to a great day… and what better way to enjoy such a paradise than to be stretched across the back seat of a heavily-tinted sedan, thumbs on Iphone tweeting away, intentionally cutting through an ugly industrial block…
…because that’s how James Best rolls. *
James Best : "Driver can’t this thing go any faster? Unbelievable!!"
* James adjusts his dark shades and tilts his head to the driver with a groan, recklessly tossing the Iphone aside, which bounces from the leather interior across the floor. Clearly affected by a severe hangover, with various empty vodka bottles at his feet doing nothing to remedy it, James grumbles and lurches upright, leaning back into his comfy seat. *
James Best : "We should have been at the airport already you idiot. Where did you learn to drive, the same place you sold your kidney for a green card?!! "
Driver: "I was born in Australia, sir… "
James Best : "IRRELEVANT!!"
GPS - [Continue seventy metres, then turn right into Adelaide Airport. Continue seventy metres, then turn right into Adelaide Airport]
James Best : "THANK YOU!"
* The sedan effortlessly rolls past the Airport entrance signage, and the passenger planes are already veering in overhead, cars everywhere. *
Driver: "We’re here, sir. Shall I be driving to the domestic or international terminal?"
James Best : "INTERNATIONAL, STUPID!! WHERE IS YOUR LOGIC? You know what, WHO are you? What’s your name, your full name, this is ridiculous!"
Driver: "My name is Mustafa, I’ve been your driver for two years now, sir."
James Best : "Mustafa? Mustafa? What is that Puerto Rican? God damn immigrants! Just get out of the car and get the bags, Musta-fa, and don’t drop anything… idiot!"
* The driver, Mustafa, sighs deeply and exits the sedan, opening the door for the best-selling author, with James snarling back at him and yawning, checking his BlackBerry and stepping it out oblivious to the struggling driver-turned-valet behind him. Before James Best had so much as approached the automatic doors leading into the Qantas lounge, camera crews were already on standby and hurry over in a mass of microphones and spotlights. *
Paparazzi: "JAMES! JAMES BEST!!"
James attempts to shield himself in the crowd, reluctantly surrendering to the media with an uneasy grin.
James Best : "Yeah, yeah. Who are you, TMZ?"
Paparazzi: "Gloria Fox, Seven News. A quick word before you leave the country!"
James Best : "Seven News? A local network?? Are you serious? Fuck off."
* James shoves his way past the smiling news reporter, turning back and snapping his fingers at Mustafa, who heaves a plethora of bags back up from the ground and jots behind him. *
Paparazzi: "Come on, James! You’re one of the biggest stories in wrestling right now. People aspire to be you!"
* James Best stops in his tracks, and Mustafa drops the bags with relief behind him. *
James Best : "Aspire to be me, aspire to be me?? These uneducated Neanderthals will never be me, these Australians are like trained monkeys, feed them enough bananas and they’ll give you a song and dance, then ask for more. They lack class, they lack charisma, they have no jobs, no social skills, no personality, a culture based entirely on alcoholism, so you tell me how in the hell these people can ever be on the same level as James Best, the best wrestler in the world? "
Paparazzi: "Well is the mighty James Best on the same level as Millennium Pro Wrestling?"
* James smirks a crooked smirk, taking the microphone in his own hand. *
James Best : "Very good, very good. It seems you have more knowledge of my travel plans than my own limo-driver over there. Yes I am leaving this supposed ‘lucky country’ for a life more tailored to my glamorous lifestyle, and when I say I am leaving, I am leaving the Australian wrestling scene forever because quite frankly, it sucks."
Paparazzi: "Oh, so the fact that you haven’t wrote a best-selling book in the last three years has nothing to do with the payday MPW have offered you?"
James Best : "My financial status has nothing to do with my signing with MPW. I am purely a competitor in search of the best competition I can find and nothing more, I am not motivated by money, I’m motivated by the fact that I am simply the best. You want to delve into my business, You want to ask about my money?? Here… go buy yourself a coffee and go fuck yourself at my expense.
No further comment, Mustafa… move!"
* James Best throws the news reporter all the cash in his wallet, who watches in shock as the bills are dumped on her, and swaggers away whistling with Mustafa eventually tots behind him. *
END.
OOC: haven't written a promo in ages lol.