Losses Are Bullocks.
May 11, 2015 7:20:18 GMT -5
Post by Butcher. on May 11, 2015 7:20:18 GMT -5
Butcher stood there, looking on at the camera with a bit of an irritated glance in his eyes. He scratched the top of his left brow, and with a twirl of the wrist, he begins his speak, "I'm not too keen on the losin' thing. Never really done it a lot, y'see? Most of my fights back when I use to fight in vacant warehouses and behind pubs around London, I won. WINNING, is what I'm all about, it's what makes me feel like I got somethin' worth fightin' for." Butcher pauses and scoffs, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, "Jesus Christ..." He says to himself as he paces the concrete sidewalk.
He slowly pulls out a stick and puts it between his lips, but suddenly takes it out, "Then, you start to dwell on it. It's almost like a bloody rash that won't go away; It's an ITCH y'see...? It's an itch I mean to scratch and to be quite frank, I plan on doin' that in my match. Now the pretty lil' bird who's goin' by the game of the "Crimson Baroness" which is just bloody ADORABLE if you ask me, whats to make a statement. Now I'm all for statements, as long as they aren't at MY expense." Butcher shrugs his shoulders and quirks his eyebrows slightly as he said this. He slowly reach into his back pocket to find his lighter.
But he doesn't light his cigarette, instead his closes it and opens it in a methodical manner as he stares directly into the camera. "Let me give you a word of advice, love: Don't go trees down when they're ready to tip over and fall. You gotta bright future, a lively one, one with EMPOWERMENT, and CHIVALRY, but this is a fight you ain't gonna win. This is a--listen to this--a FIGHT you ain't gonna win. And no matter how tough you wanna act, you better listen to me advice and just SOD...OFF. Because I'm gonna hurt ya, you can't walk away from an arse kickin' believe me. " He said as he scoffs shaking his head.
"See lovely, scammers where I come from get their bloody teeth knocked down their throats. No matter what you got planned in that pretty head of yours...get rid of it. There's nothin', you can do, nowhere you can run, and nowhere you can hide." Butcher shrugs again, "Any ideas you might have are gonna take the piss, because when you finally step into that ring, when you cross that embargo into the arena, first thing I know for a bloody fact runnin' through you head is gonna be..." Butcher pauses for a moment, with a shit eating grin on his face and a glazed over glance, "He's going to hurt me..." He he says with a nod of his head and puts the lighter to his cigarette, finally lighting the thing and blowing a smoke cloud out into the open.
He smirks through his smoke haze, "You're in for a wild lil' squabble. Sure do hope you're ready." Butcher takes a deep inhale and blows a thick cloud from his lips, "Because I don't plan on sodding up another opportunity again." Butcher's face turns serious, he flick the cigarette down and stomps on it, putting it out. He walks off, shoving his hands in his pockets, and then the scene ends.
He slowly pulls out a stick and puts it between his lips, but suddenly takes it out, "Then, you start to dwell on it. It's almost like a bloody rash that won't go away; It's an ITCH y'see...? It's an itch I mean to scratch and to be quite frank, I plan on doin' that in my match. Now the pretty lil' bird who's goin' by the game of the "Crimson Baroness" which is just bloody ADORABLE if you ask me, whats to make a statement. Now I'm all for statements, as long as they aren't at MY expense." Butcher shrugs his shoulders and quirks his eyebrows slightly as he said this. He slowly reach into his back pocket to find his lighter.
But he doesn't light his cigarette, instead his closes it and opens it in a methodical manner as he stares directly into the camera. "Let me give you a word of advice, love: Don't go trees down when they're ready to tip over and fall. You gotta bright future, a lively one, one with EMPOWERMENT, and CHIVALRY, but this is a fight you ain't gonna win. This is a--listen to this--a FIGHT you ain't gonna win. And no matter how tough you wanna act, you better listen to me advice and just SOD...OFF. Because I'm gonna hurt ya, you can't walk away from an arse kickin' believe me. " He said as he scoffs shaking his head.
"See lovely, scammers where I come from get their bloody teeth knocked down their throats. No matter what you got planned in that pretty head of yours...get rid of it. There's nothin', you can do, nowhere you can run, and nowhere you can hide." Butcher shrugs again, "Any ideas you might have are gonna take the piss, because when you finally step into that ring, when you cross that embargo into the arena, first thing I know for a bloody fact runnin' through you head is gonna be..." Butcher pauses for a moment, with a shit eating grin on his face and a glazed over glance, "He's going to hurt me..." He he says with a nod of his head and puts the lighter to his cigarette, finally lighting the thing and blowing a smoke cloud out into the open.
He smirks through his smoke haze, "You're in for a wild lil' squabble. Sure do hope you're ready." Butcher takes a deep inhale and blows a thick cloud from his lips, "Because I don't plan on sodding up another opportunity again." Butcher's face turns serious, he flick the cigarette down and stomps on it, putting it out. He walks off, shoving his hands in his pockets, and then the scene ends.