Rab #1 (English version)
May 31, 2016 16:52:18 GMT -5
Post by David on May 31, 2016 16:52:18 GMT -5
The scene opens to show the exterior of The Marshall - a pub in Greensboro. Sat at a table outside the pub, with a bottle of beer in his hand, is Rab McKinley; he is wearing a pair of black shorts and a replica Heart of Midlothian F.C. jersey.
Rab looks at the camera, and raises his bottle.
‘Cheers!’
He then takes a swig from the bottle, before placing it on the table.
‘Alright there! How's it going? For those of you that don’t know who I am, allow me to introduce myself: my name is Rab McKinley; as you can probably tell from my accent, I’m Scottish, and I’m also one of the newest trainees in Lion's Den Fighting Championships. Some of you might know my cousin Natalie, who was at one time a member of the Frontier Grappling Arts roster; the inspiration for me to give wrestling a try came from seeing my little cousin compete in FGA, and elsewhere.’
Rab smiles wryly.
‘Well, I say “little cousin,” although if you’ve seen Natalie, you’ll know she’s actually not that little - she’s actually quite muscular, like my opponent for my debut match: the Princess of Power, Maritza Diaz.’
There is then a pause; Rab frowns.
‘No, that doesn’t sound right.’
He then scratches his forehead.
‘I think I just confused Maritza with She-Ra - Maritza’s nickname is actually, “The Power Princess;” sorry about that, Maritza.’
Rab gives an apologetic look towards the camera.
‘When this match between myself and Maritza was announced a week and a half ago, I had conflicting emotions - in fact, I still do. I’m happy that I’m going to be getting to compete in my first proper match, but I would prefer my debut to be against someone else. Maritza is one of the people in Lion’s Den that I’ve known the longest - although admittedly, that isn’t saying much, given that I’ve only been here a matter of weeks.’
Rab pauses to have another swig of beer.
‘I met Maritza when I attended the tryout camp at the end of last month, and I’ve got nothing bad whatsoever to say about her. I’m not thrilled about having to fight her, and she has said that she doesn’t want to fight me either - maybe we could just have a dance off, instead.’
Rab smirks.
‘On second thoughts, no-one wants to see me dance - at least, not unless I’ve gotten several of those…’
Rab casts his eyes towards the bottle of beer.
‘...down my neck beforehand.’
He then looks back in the direction of the camera.
‘I’m well aware of Maritza’s background in Muay Thai, and so I’m a bit worried that she might take my head off. She’s certainly a more skilled fighter than I am: before I started training to be a professional wrestler, the only experience of fighting I had came from the handful of pub brawls that I’ve been involved in - and I don’t really want to have to resort to having to give an opponent a Glasgow kiss.’
Rab shakes his head.
‘Anyway, while I may be more used to kicking a football than kicking an opponent’s head - and by “football” I mean a proper, sphere-shaped ball, not the egg-shaped balls that are used here in the US - this match I have coming up against Maritza, is the first opportunity for me to put into practice what I have learned so far since I began my wrestling training. It’s also an opportunity for me to show that the decision to offer me a contract was a sensible one, and so I’m keen to put in a good performance.’
Rab drinks some more of his beer, before continuing.
‘The best way for me to make a good first impression would of course be for me to win - which is exactly what I want to do on Thursday; no-one likes to lose - and I’m no different. I definitely don’t want my wrestling career to begin with a loss, and so I’m aiming to be successful in my debut match - which, unfortunately…’
There is a sigh from Rab.
‘...means that Maritza will have to suffer a loss in her debut.’
He then lets out another, longer sigh.
‘I’m sorry, Maritza. The reason I want to beat you isn’t because I dislike you - but then you already know that; I need to beat you if only to prove that I wasn’t being an idiot when I thought that I could be a wrestler.’
Rab smiles meekly.
‘Once this is over, Maritza, hopefully your next match will be against some prick, who deserves a right good kicking.’
As Rab reaches for his bottle of beer, the scene fades to black.
Click here for the original version.
Rab looks at the camera, and raises his bottle.
‘Cheers!’
He then takes a swig from the bottle, before placing it on the table.
‘Alright there! How's it going? For those of you that don’t know who I am, allow me to introduce myself: my name is Rab McKinley; as you can probably tell from my accent, I’m Scottish, and I’m also one of the newest trainees in Lion's Den Fighting Championships. Some of you might know my cousin Natalie, who was at one time a member of the Frontier Grappling Arts roster; the inspiration for me to give wrestling a try came from seeing my little cousin compete in FGA, and elsewhere.’
Rab smiles wryly.
‘Well, I say “little cousin,” although if you’ve seen Natalie, you’ll know she’s actually not that little - she’s actually quite muscular, like my opponent for my debut match: the Princess of Power, Maritza Diaz.’
There is then a pause; Rab frowns.
‘No, that doesn’t sound right.’
He then scratches his forehead.
‘I think I just confused Maritza with She-Ra - Maritza’s nickname is actually, “The Power Princess;” sorry about that, Maritza.’
Rab gives an apologetic look towards the camera.
‘When this match between myself and Maritza was announced a week and a half ago, I had conflicting emotions - in fact, I still do. I’m happy that I’m going to be getting to compete in my first proper match, but I would prefer my debut to be against someone else. Maritza is one of the people in Lion’s Den that I’ve known the longest - although admittedly, that isn’t saying much, given that I’ve only been here a matter of weeks.’
Rab pauses to have another swig of beer.
‘I met Maritza when I attended the tryout camp at the end of last month, and I’ve got nothing bad whatsoever to say about her. I’m not thrilled about having to fight her, and she has said that she doesn’t want to fight me either - maybe we could just have a dance off, instead.’
Rab smirks.
‘On second thoughts, no-one wants to see me dance - at least, not unless I’ve gotten several of those…’
Rab casts his eyes towards the bottle of beer.
‘...down my neck beforehand.’
He then looks back in the direction of the camera.
‘I’m well aware of Maritza’s background in Muay Thai, and so I’m a bit worried that she might take my head off. She’s certainly a more skilled fighter than I am: before I started training to be a professional wrestler, the only experience of fighting I had came from the handful of pub brawls that I’ve been involved in - and I don’t really want to have to resort to having to give an opponent a Glasgow kiss.’
Rab shakes his head.
‘Anyway, while I may be more used to kicking a football than kicking an opponent’s head - and by “football” I mean a proper, sphere-shaped ball, not the egg-shaped balls that are used here in the US - this match I have coming up against Maritza, is the first opportunity for me to put into practice what I have learned so far since I began my wrestling training. It’s also an opportunity for me to show that the decision to offer me a contract was a sensible one, and so I’m keen to put in a good performance.’
Rab drinks some more of his beer, before continuing.
‘The best way for me to make a good first impression would of course be for me to win - which is exactly what I want to do on Thursday; no-one likes to lose - and I’m no different. I definitely don’t want my wrestling career to begin with a loss, and so I’m aiming to be successful in my debut match - which, unfortunately…’
There is a sigh from Rab.
‘...means that Maritza will have to suffer a loss in her debut.’
He then lets out another, longer sigh.
‘I’m sorry, Maritza. The reason I want to beat you isn’t because I dislike you - but then you already know that; I need to beat you if only to prove that I wasn’t being an idiot when I thought that I could be a wrestler.’
Rab smiles meekly.
‘Once this is over, Maritza, hopefully your next match will be against some prick, who deserves a right good kicking.’
As Rab reaches for his bottle of beer, the scene fades to black.
Click here for the original version.
