(Butch): Sounds good to me. Well, just leave your bags there by the mezzanine and we'll head down to the gym.
Butch motions with a jerk of his head for Hans to follow him as he heads towards the staircase which heads down Butch and Wisdom's basement gym. Hans settles the larger of his bags down, pushing it out of the way with his right foot, before following after Butch, eyes darting around him as he takes in the interior of the house with interest.
(Hans) I've got my tape, gloves and what-not with me. I assume you've got some place to change in amongst everything else here?
(Butch): Yeah, there's a couple of cubicles downstairs, I've got spares gloves, tape and everything aswell just in case, so we'll get downstairs, change and get down to brass tacks shall we?
(Hans) Sounds good to me.
They fall silent for a few moments, as they begin to walk down the staircase to the well furnished gym that Butch has created in the basement. At points on the wall leading downwards, are several photos from both Butch and Wisdom's careers, and which Hans finds himself glancing at as he passes. Not even looking back, Butch speaks up...
(Butch): Remember that one?
Butch jerks his head towards one particular framed photograph that shows a much younger Butch Parker in his early twenties, the EFWA World Championship glistening around his waist and a much younger Hans von Richtoven, the EFWA Intercontinental Championship hanging over his shoulder. Both men stare across at one another from opposing sides of a wrestling ring. In the bottom left-hand corner it reads: EFWA Night of the Immortals, July 24th 1999 , Sky Dome, Toronto, Ontario, Canada. A smile stretches across Hans' face, as he slows his pace down, to allow him time to look closes at the picture as he passes it.
(Hans) How could I forget?
(Butch): You remember how it ended?
(Hans) With both of us lying unconscious in the middle of the ring? It's hard not to...
Butch smiles as they reach the focal point of the room and Hans eyes widen in fascination at the size of the room before him. Various equipment for all sorts of exercise are scattered across the room ranging from weight-training facilities, to cardio, to heavy bags, wrestling mats, to the full-size ring at the epicentre of the room, the top and bottom rope a royal shade of blue, the middle one white. Butch points over to a wall of four cubicles about ten yards to his left.
(Butch): Changing rooms are there.
Hans absent-mindedly nods at this, as he takes in the room before him.
(Hans) Uh-huh.
His attention drops to the bag in his right hand, and then up to the cubicles, before saying more to himself than to Butch...
(Hans) Right, the sooner we're ready, the better...
The scene fades out momentarily, as both men head for their respective cubicles, before coming back into focus on the full sized ring in the epicentre of the room. Butch Parker stands in a nonchalant manner at one of the turnbuckles, as Hans steps into view, sliding into the ring. Butch is attired in a pair of Hayabusa black and white Fightwear shorts, matching training boots that are laced up to just above his shin, and a sleeveless white t-shirt, culminated in pair Harbinger combat mitts as Hans, clad in a pair of red and silver striped Evolution shorts, pure white training boots of a similar style to Butch's, topped off with a charcoal coloured HWA 'The Baron' top, faded through use. He gets to his feet, before ensuring his own combat mitts are tight and secure.
(Hans) So, any preferences for what we start off with?
Butch places his gloved-hands on his hips, a serious expression painted on his face.
(Butch): Look, before we do anything Hans, there's something I have to say-
Butch is immediately hushed by a raised hand from Hans, who's expression almost matches Butch's.
(Hans) Don't. Let's just draw a line under what has happened. It's in the past, and you know there's nothing you can do that can change what you've done.
He taps his chest.
(Hans) You've forgiven me for what I've did, and believe me, I want to do the same for you in return, but you did some terrible things to my loved ones, so... let's just not get into it, as we won't get anywhere.
He pauses, furrowing his brow and pursing his lips, before taking a step forward towards Butch.
(Hans) We can't repair this friendship...
He lets the words sink in, before, with a low sigh thrusting out his hand for Butch to shake.
(Hans) ... but I'm open to starting a new one.
Butch reciprocates Hans' sigh with one of his own. He eyes Hans' outstretched hand and shakes it, smiling at his old friend, hoping to see one in return.
(Butch): I was hoping for something like that...
The two old friends smile before they start to circle each around the training ring, limbering themselves up as the scene fades to black.
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