Butch himself is decked out in a set of camouflage Sprawl© fighting shorts and matching fighting gloves. He pummels away on a prone punching bag, sitting in an offensive mounted position, raining down onto the end of the bag with hammer-fists and elbows, sending beads of sweat in all direction. Butch is so engrossed in his workout that he doesn't hear the door to the gym opening and the subsequent footsteps that follow before finally a voice sounds off, catching Butch's attention.
(Voice): Well, well, well, if it isn't Butch Parker.
Butch cranes his neck around, peering around to identify the owner of the voice and smiles when he sees the man standing at ringside, his hands on hips; none other than the UFC President, Dana White. Butch dismounts the punching bag, and ascends to his feet, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of one of his gloves. He walks over to the side of the ring, his arms balanced on the top rope, as he looks down at Dana.
(Butch): To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Dana? Lady of the house let you in, did she?
Butch stoops down to one of the corners and picks up a water bottle, squeezing the torso of the bottle and the liquid jets into his mouth.
(Dana): Can a man not visit an old friend who he hasn’t seen for Christ-knows how long when he’s just got engaged?
Butch raises his eyebrows in mock acknowledgment, as he un-straps his gloves and climbs out of the ring, gripping Dana's outstretched hand, clapping him friendlily on the shoulder.
(Dana): Congratulations.
Butch smiles as he let’s go of Dana’s hand.
(Butch): News travels fast in California eh?
(Dana): You bet your ass. Glad to see you’re finally doing something good after all that’s been going on. Seriously mean, all that shit you were pulling with Senester…f***ed up to say the least, bro.
Butch nods in an affirming manner through another jet of water gushing into his mouth from his bottle.
(Butch): You’re telling me.
(Dana): Your sister still not speaking to you?
(Butch): Nah, but you know what? It’s beginning to not bother me anymore. She can stay angry at me for the rest of my life but she’s gonna get to watch her kids grow up you know? Graduate from High School, go to college.
Dana smiles, nodding.
(Dana): So how’s life in the HWA treating you now that everything’s out in the open? I seen your loss to Ronnie; that must have been hard to take?
Butch scoffs lightly as the two walk around the circumference of the gym, looking at the old pictures and photographs hanging on the wall.
(Butch): Please, the amount of times I’ve beaten Ronnie McNeil in the past, I couldn’t give a shit about that match.
(Dana): Enough for that lackey of Eddie’s to get under your skin though.
(Butch): Touché…
Dana stops walking making Butch halt his own progress too as he stares up at a photo of Butch standing atop a turnbuckle, sweating pouring off him and the HWA World Championship held above his head. In the corner of the photo it reads “HWA Fatality, September 2004, Pontiac Silverdome”.
(Dana): Christ, I remember watching you that night, when you made Thane Givens tap out to a torture rack with the both of you tied for submissions with five seconds to go. Great match.
Butch sighs heavily, his hands on his hips as he gazes up at the man he used to be.
(Butch): Yeah, those were the days.
(Dana): Listen man, there’s a reason I came to see you today, apart from congratulating you on your coming nuptials. I have an offer for you.
Butch's interest is immediately peaked, his eyebrows raised momentarily. He turns to face Dana fully.
(Butch): What sort of offer?
(Dana): One I don't think you'll have a lot of trouble accepting…look, Butch this isn't you, working a hectic professional wrestling schedule like this, working for a man like Senester, having your personal life torn to shit and f***in' scrutinised like it has been.
(Butch): Mhmm…
(Dana): Look Butch, I won't bullshit you, but you ain't a goddamn f***in' puppet. You're a mean-ass f***in' fighter. You don't need to be mixin' it up with nobodies like Eddie or Senester or any of those clowns. Everybody in the MMA world knows who you are Butch and everyone in the MMA world respects you. Nobody gives a shit about storylines or what you do outside the ring or the Octagon or wherever; all they care about is what you do inside it!
Butch acknowledges Dana's point with a nod of his head, bringing a hand up to his face and stroking the stubble accumulating around his face, taking in what Dana is saying.
(Dana): Butch, the heavyweight division is on a high right now with Velasquez stopping Brock, but with you added to the mix, it could be incredible. Imagine it dude…
Dana puts one arm around Butch's shoulder and spreads the other one out as if trying to show Butch an imaginary banner.
(Dana): Butch Parker versus Brock Lesnar…or Butch Parker versus Cain Velasquez? Like I said, the heavyweight division is on the comeback; Dos Santos is making quite an impression, Stefan Struve is a big draw even Roy Nelson. It’s a huge opportunity for you bro.
(Butch): It does sound tempting…
(Dana): I won't press you into a decision but I know you can see the sense in it. No worrying about stupid promos, no watching your back. The only thing you gotta worry about is making weight, fighting your heart out and getting paid for it.
Butch sighs and remains silent for a moment and breaks out in a sympathetic smile. Butch extends his hand outwards towards Dana. The UFC President grins broadly and shakes Butch’s hand warmly.
(Butch): I’m sorry Dana, but I can’t…I’m just getting my focus back and yeah you’re right, I’m no f***ing puppet and yeah I’m a helluva f***ing fighter and that’s exactly what everyone in HWA is going to find out. I’m doing things my own way this time round and I’m going after Hans’ World Championship.
Dana has a disappointed look on his face but it quickly fades to a light, understanding smile.
(Dana): Well, I sure can appreciate that, Butch.
(Butch): What do you need me for anyway? You’ve got Brock and Mir on the Ultimate Fighter and GSP going up against Anderson.
Both men smile and shake hands once more.
(Dana): Well, I guess I’ll leave you to it then. You keep your head screwed on right and keep that work rate up and you’ll be wearing that World Title again in no time.
(Butch): Thanks man; it was good to see you.
(Dana): You too bro.
The men briefly embrace before Dana turns and heads for the gym’s exit to the main body of Wisdom’s Santa Barbra home, leaving Butch to recommence his workout as the scene fades to black.
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