Post by andy on Dec 23, 2007 21:54:41 GMT -5
"Why would you get out of bed every morning if you weren't going to dedicate every fiber in your being to fight harder and defeat those that confront you?
....
Nicely said..."
The television in front of him snaps off. Andrew Rose, he said it himself, pays attention. Watches GCW. Does his job, and does his damnedest to make sure he entertains those that ultimately sign the paychecks he doesn't need. The fans. Whether or not they love or hate him. He's currently shut off from the world, from the paparazzi, in the locker rooms of GCW. The show isn't for a few days, activity is light, so he locked the doors while he watched film and prepared. A seven foot man answered his challenge, lamely, Andrew might add. He removed the $50,000 stipulation, not out of fear, but out of the challenger not deserving it in Andrew's eyes. He wipes his ass with fifty grand... not like he's going to miss the money.
*Knock Knock*
"Yo, Andy... you ready?"
Andrew sighs, finishing up the tape around his hands.
"It's ANDREW... and yeah... give me a second..."
He punches his taped fist into his open palm of his other taped hand, grabbing his sparring gloves. He tightens the strings of his shorts, tying them before opening the door.
"Sure you wanna go full tilt with this sparring session, Mike?"
"Fuck it man... full blown, get ready for fighting that huge asshole and it'll all be good..."
Andrew just nods, following Mike to the gym. It's been a while since he's actually fought it out with someone. But come Exodus? The man standing across the ring from him won't care. He'll come full tilt, Andrew is sure of that. And Andrew wants to be sure he'll be capable of firing back. He doesn't doubt himself, but practice makes perfect...
The two continue their small talk on the way to the gym. Once inside, they slide into the ring that is set up, Andrew finishing the stretching he was doing in the locker room. His strong suit? He know would have to be his fighting ability. Andrew didn't lose a match in MMA... and Mike? He was quite the prodigy. He knew this would be a good fight... as long as he didn't injure himself before Exodus. That would suck... but, fuck. Andrew was bored and this was an opportunity.
"Full speed, Andrew..."
He nodded, approaching his opponent, keeping his hands up. Mike tries to keep Andrew at bay with a few jabs, keeping the distance between the two. Andrew, in the mean time, sizes him up, then sends a kick to the quad, working on tightening the muscle. Point being? Makes him way less likely to evade later on with the proper amount of work. That kick sends Mike in a flurry of punches that Andrew covers up from, before grabbing Mike and clinching, back up against the ropes. Mike currently tries to stomp the feet out from underneath Andrew, who, being taller than Mike is, tries to get lower. Or get Mike to the ground. Whatever happens first. Andrew manages to get Mike's against the ropes, sending a muay tai knee into his ribs quickly, failing on the second as Mike catches him, sending him to his back and trying to drop an elbow. Andrew evades, flipping Mike to his back and rolling over in half guard. Andrew fires a few shots into the side of the abdomen of Mike, fighting through the guard. Mike was good, way better than he was letting on, but Andrew... Andrew was determined.
He'd proved the naysayers wrong with his fighting career, he'd tried his damnedest to stay out of the public eye... but now? He was in it, he was in it until the day he died, and this wrestling career of his was going to be the forefront of it. Using it to his advantage... and Andrew wasn't going to disappoint. That's why a camera was there with them. Andrew fires one final shot into the ribs, feeling the grip around his head slack. He pushes off, bursting through the guard into a full blown mount, hammering shots down at Mike. He wanted full speed?
He got fucking full speed.
Andrew hammered down at full speed, shot after shot, flailing arms of Mike not being noticed. Andrew was blinded by the images of his upcoming opponent, barely noticing the tapping going on the mat next to him. Mike was tapping out. He was being pummeled mercilessly... Andrew didn't notice for another five shots. He scrambled off of Mike, staring at the blood on his fingers. Strangely... after pummeling his friend into the ground... all he can do is laugh.
"You think you have me, don't you Essence... You think you've got the "Pretty boy rookie," don't you? Think you can walk in and walk off with a win, with half the effort, because I'm unknown, right?
Think again..."
He grabs the camera, motioning it towards his recovering sparring partner... the blood strewn across the canvas painted the tale of what Andrew was capable of...
"Take a long look, Essence... long and hard... and start thinking if ANY fucking claim you can make of ANY type of "Advantage" you may think you have has any fucking merit. You don't even know what you're dealing with..."
The camera meets Rose once again...
"I do.
I know all about you. And I've just put myself at your level. You think you're some kind of all star brawler? Ask this poor soul what he just went through...
better yet... keep thinking that until Exodus.
...
Find out for yourself."
Andrew pushes the camera down, it breaks upon landing, leaving the screen in static. Why would you get out of bed every morning if you weren't going to dedicate every fibre in your being to fight harder and defeat those that confront you? Peter Saint said it best...
And Andrew Rose is going to prove it best. Exodus. January 7th.
....
Nicely said..."
The television in front of him snaps off. Andrew Rose, he said it himself, pays attention. Watches GCW. Does his job, and does his damnedest to make sure he entertains those that ultimately sign the paychecks he doesn't need. The fans. Whether or not they love or hate him. He's currently shut off from the world, from the paparazzi, in the locker rooms of GCW. The show isn't for a few days, activity is light, so he locked the doors while he watched film and prepared. A seven foot man answered his challenge, lamely, Andrew might add. He removed the $50,000 stipulation, not out of fear, but out of the challenger not deserving it in Andrew's eyes. He wipes his ass with fifty grand... not like he's going to miss the money.
*Knock Knock*
"Yo, Andy... you ready?"
Andrew sighs, finishing up the tape around his hands.
"It's ANDREW... and yeah... give me a second..."
He punches his taped fist into his open palm of his other taped hand, grabbing his sparring gloves. He tightens the strings of his shorts, tying them before opening the door.
"Sure you wanna go full tilt with this sparring session, Mike?"
"Fuck it man... full blown, get ready for fighting that huge asshole and it'll all be good..."
Andrew just nods, following Mike to the gym. It's been a while since he's actually fought it out with someone. But come Exodus? The man standing across the ring from him won't care. He'll come full tilt, Andrew is sure of that. And Andrew wants to be sure he'll be capable of firing back. He doesn't doubt himself, but practice makes perfect...
The two continue their small talk on the way to the gym. Once inside, they slide into the ring that is set up, Andrew finishing the stretching he was doing in the locker room. His strong suit? He know would have to be his fighting ability. Andrew didn't lose a match in MMA... and Mike? He was quite the prodigy. He knew this would be a good fight... as long as he didn't injure himself before Exodus. That would suck... but, fuck. Andrew was bored and this was an opportunity.
"Full speed, Andrew..."
He nodded, approaching his opponent, keeping his hands up. Mike tries to keep Andrew at bay with a few jabs, keeping the distance between the two. Andrew, in the mean time, sizes him up, then sends a kick to the quad, working on tightening the muscle. Point being? Makes him way less likely to evade later on with the proper amount of work. That kick sends Mike in a flurry of punches that Andrew covers up from, before grabbing Mike and clinching, back up against the ropes. Mike currently tries to stomp the feet out from underneath Andrew, who, being taller than Mike is, tries to get lower. Or get Mike to the ground. Whatever happens first. Andrew manages to get Mike's against the ropes, sending a muay tai knee into his ribs quickly, failing on the second as Mike catches him, sending him to his back and trying to drop an elbow. Andrew evades, flipping Mike to his back and rolling over in half guard. Andrew fires a few shots into the side of the abdomen of Mike, fighting through the guard. Mike was good, way better than he was letting on, but Andrew... Andrew was determined.
He'd proved the naysayers wrong with his fighting career, he'd tried his damnedest to stay out of the public eye... but now? He was in it, he was in it until the day he died, and this wrestling career of his was going to be the forefront of it. Using it to his advantage... and Andrew wasn't going to disappoint. That's why a camera was there with them. Andrew fires one final shot into the ribs, feeling the grip around his head slack. He pushes off, bursting through the guard into a full blown mount, hammering shots down at Mike. He wanted full speed?
He got fucking full speed.
Andrew hammered down at full speed, shot after shot, flailing arms of Mike not being noticed. Andrew was blinded by the images of his upcoming opponent, barely noticing the tapping going on the mat next to him. Mike was tapping out. He was being pummeled mercilessly... Andrew didn't notice for another five shots. He scrambled off of Mike, staring at the blood on his fingers. Strangely... after pummeling his friend into the ground... all he can do is laugh.
"You think you have me, don't you Essence... You think you've got the "Pretty boy rookie," don't you? Think you can walk in and walk off with a win, with half the effort, because I'm unknown, right?
Think again..."
He grabs the camera, motioning it towards his recovering sparring partner... the blood strewn across the canvas painted the tale of what Andrew was capable of...
"Take a long look, Essence... long and hard... and start thinking if ANY fucking claim you can make of ANY type of "Advantage" you may think you have has any fucking merit. You don't even know what you're dealing with..."
The camera meets Rose once again...
"I do.
I know all about you. And I've just put myself at your level. You think you're some kind of all star brawler? Ask this poor soul what he just went through...
better yet... keep thinking that until Exodus.
...
Find out for yourself."
Andrew pushes the camera down, it breaks upon landing, leaving the screen in static. Why would you get out of bed every morning if you weren't going to dedicate every fibre in your being to fight harder and defeat those that confront you? Peter Saint said it best...
And Andrew Rose is going to prove it best. Exodus. January 7th.