Time: 19:09
Date: 10th May 2013
The personal gym of Butch Parker built into his and Wisdom's Santa Barbara home has become synonymous with his promos over the years and today is no different. Over the years, it has become more than just a place where Butch and Wisdom train together but a reminder of their past accomplishments, a reminder of what it has taken for them both to be the successes they are today in the form of framed championship belts, trophies, advertising posters for previous pay-per-view events, magazine articles and action shots from matches of old.
At this time, Butch is decked out in pair of his personalised Venum (c) "Tartan Army" fighting shorts, consisting of an azure blue with an argent white saltire decorating both legs and the Venum snakehead logo decorating the buttocks. Butch also sports a black Under Armour rashguard and a pair of Venum sparring gloves. He dances on the soles of his feet on an open mat, switching between orthodox and southpaw stances, a "Bob" sparring partner placed directly in the middle. Butch unleashes a tirade of martial arts techniques, roaring with each connection. He slams into the dummy with a ferocious and lightning-fast jab-cross-hook-uppercut combination before moving to the side as if he were in a real fight. He steps forward, feinting before smashing through the dummy with a jumping spinning back kick that sends it teetering almost to the point of knocking it over. Butch circles back around, feinting again and immediately after spins around, yelling out once more in emphasis as he lands a vicious spinning back elbow to the temple of the dummy's head. Butch back-pedals before sizing up the dummy like a lion sizing up a gazelle. He runs at it but steps to side, leaping into the air, ala Achilles in Troy and unleashes a devastating Superman punch that this time sends the dummy tumbling back and onto the mat.
He comes to a halt, chest heaving and he wipes the excess perspiration from his forehead with the back of his gloved hand. Suddenly, a female voice sounds over the intercom built into the gym, a voice not belonging to Wisdom and Butch immediately recognises it to be that of his and Wisdom's agent Emily.
(Emily): Butch, you need to get up here, right now.
Butch grabs a bottle of Lucozade Sport, scoops hung the revitalising liquid into his mouth as he approaches the intercom, hitting the speak button and replying.
(Butch): What's up, Ems?
(Emily): Just come up, please.
(Butch): I'll be right up.
Butch unfastens the straps of his gloves, pulling them off with the assistance of his teeth and tosses them to the side. He makes his way up the stairs and into the main atrium of the house where Emily is waiting, remote control for Butch and Wisdom's Smart TV in-hand.
(Butch): Where's Wisdom?
(Emily): She went for a walk with Evina down the beach, she needed to clear her head; it's been a rough couple of days.
(Butch): You're telling me. So what's so important you had to drag me away from my workout?
(Emily): Visualising Michael James' face on a punchbag were we?
(Butch): Something like that, look come on, don't keep me in suspense, what's up?
(Emily): I think we'd better go into the living room and before you do or so anything in retaliation to what I'm about to show you, as your agent and as you and Wisdom's friend not to do anything stupid; I'm already trying to deal with the backlash of your little jaunt to Chicago.
(Butch): I had no choice, Emily; I wasn't about to sit back and let that scumbag get away with what he said!
(Emily): Which is why I'm advising you to at least try and keep a level head and listen to me after you see what I'm about to show you.
Butch's expression transitions from confusion to that of one depicting concern and worry as he makes his way to the living room, Emily trailing behind him. As he enters into the living room, he sees the Smart TV on Live Pause, the HWA logo frozen on screen. Emily hits the play button and a moment later, Michael James appears on screen and begins yet another tirade towards Butch and Wisdom. Butch can't help but feel his temper reaching its tether. His blood boils with each insult James hurls in his direction, his knuckles turning white as he involuntarily clenches his hands into tight fists. As the scene fades to black, Butch hangs his head low and suddenly he explodes with a thunderous roar that catches Emily off-guard. He punches the leather material of the couch that he is leaning against the back of before standing up straight, mopping his face with hands and running them forcefully through the confines of his chestnut brown hair.
(Emily): Like I said, try to keep calm Butch and listen to what I have to say before you go launching into an emotionally-driven verbal response.
Butch looks at Emily with incredulity and points to the TV whilst looking at her.
(Butch): Are you being serious? For Christ's sakes, Spock wouldn't be even be able to stopped from giving an emotionally-driven response to something like that! For the love of f***ing God, he compared my wife to a f***ing child murderer!
(Emily): You can't let him get to you, Butch. He knows what buttons to press and its working, all you're doing is playing right into his hands and giving him more ammunition. We have a great legal case building up against him if you'll permit me to go ahead with it. This is textbook slander against both you and Wisdom with his comments about Evina's parentage and his inappropriate accusations against Wisdom. If he was really THAT bothered about the misconstrued comments Wisdom made, he'd be pressing charges but he doesn't care about them, all he's doing is cerebrally trying to break the two of you and so far, he's doing nothing short of succeeding. But with these comments he's making; we have a solid case and he won't have a leg to stand on.
(Butch): Nine years...
(Emily): I beg your pardon?
(Butch): Nine years I've been in HWA, Emily. I've had some cracking rivalries; multiple times people have tried to get under my skin, testing my patience and they've always paid the consequences. Dredge...Eddie... AC.... Ronnie....Buff....even Senester....no one has got the better of me...and I'll be f***ing damned if this arrogant little bottom feeder is going to get away with this....
(Emily): So do you want me to go ahead and speak to my legal team?
(Butch): No, the last thing I want him is him prattling on that I'm getting someone else to fight my battles for me. You give him an inch and he'll take a mile.
(Emily): And what are you going to do? Don't do anything stupid.
(Butch): You know me.
(Emily): I know, and that's the problem. Just do me one favour and don't say anything you're gonna regret later.
(Butch): I'll say what I feel is necessary.
(Emily): That's what I was afraid of....I'll see myself out....
Emily takes her leave as Butch prepares to respond to Michael James. He sets up his TV to record a response and as soon as the light on top of it turns red, Butch prepares his address. He paces back and forth in front of the camera for a moment, trying to keep his focus and temperament in check.
(Butch): Well Michael, I didn't think there was a length you wouldn't go to get your name on everyone's lips again. I thought underneath all our bad blood and animosity, there might be a slight smidgen of decorum; I mean come on, we're both professional athletes; champions, standard bearers if you will. But I guess, as per usual, I'm wrong again...
There is a momentary pause before Butch continues; him exhaling deeply through his nose before he does so.
(Butch): You wanna talk about egomaniacal? Staking claim to a World Championship you haven't even earned the right to look at let alone wrestle for? Giving yourself a moniker of "Perfection" in your nickname? Thinking your the centre of my wife's thoughts? Take a long hard look in the mirror, Michael and I think you'll find egomaniacal staring you right in the face instead of some misguided depiction of perfection!
(Butch): And are you that f***ing delusional you think Wisdom is attracted to you? Are you sure you're the one that's not in denial? Tell me something, what could you possibly bring to the table that would cause Wisdom to be attracted to you? Money? Well considering she and I have amassed millions of dollars of our own hard-earned money I think we can chuck that out the window. What else, Michael? You really honestly think you've got more to offer her than I do? Don't you dare pretend to preach that you know anything about my wife because you know sweet f*** all! You don't know shit about mine and Wisdom's relationship and quite frankly it's no one's goddamn, least of all yours!
Butch can feel his temper rising by the second and struggles to keep his composure as he recounts what Michael James has said, especially about Evina.
(Butch): Now it's no lie to say you are getting to become a very annoying itch Michael; an inch by the way that I intend to scratch very soon. You've hurled insult after insult at me and Wisdom, but when you make disgusting and disparaging remarks about my daughter and whether or not I'm her dad, that's a step too f***ing far you sushi-eating, sake-drinking little ####! And aye that was racist! What are you gonna dae aboot it!? Come ahead and do your worst ya wee fanny!
Butch's rage is at boiling point as evident from his Scottish slang and accent coming through.
(Butch): There's promoting a good wrestling match, Michael but not even Chael Sonnen stooped to your depths when he gave Anderson Silva crap. You have no f***ing right even bringing my daughter into this, nor Wisdom for that matter! Wisdom wouldn't have even opened her mouth to address if you hadn't acted like a complete pompous f***ing asshole instead of being man enough to accept my professional challenge when you first debuted. And now look at the state of you! If you want anyone to blame for this shit storm turning into a f***ing hurricane look at yourself!
Butch's pacing becomes more aggressive and his breathing more short; his face turning red.
(Butch): You know what it is Michael? It's jealousy! I can see it in your stupid slanty eyes whenever you speak my name. It burns you inside like a f***ing STD whenever you see my name in the headlines or an image of me with the World Championship. Butch Parker is the HWA World Heavyweight Champion...oooh that pisses you off to no end, doesn't it. So if it were up to you, I wouldn't be World Champion, if it were up to you I wouldn't have been granted another shot at the title? Well you know what, if it were up to me, Glasgow Rangers would still be playing in the Scottish Premier League. If it were up to me, George Clooney would never have played Batman but you know what? I'm still World Champion and top of the foodchain. Rangers are playing in the third tier of Scottish football and George Clooney still played Batman; nothing can change that so the sooner you accept your place in this company and stop harping on about mine, you might actually start making sense!
At Havoc, I want you to do something for me, Michael. Make one of your famous guarantees and put your money where your mouth is. Predict you're gonna wipe the floor with me and that you're going to kick my ass all over the arena. Go for it, because I can't wait to see the look on your face when you're flat on your back, left eye looking in one direction, right eye in the other and the referee has to use smelling salts to make you come to. I want to see the look on your face when the lights of the arena obscure your vision as you to try to make sense of what the hell just happened. I want to see the look on your face when you realise you just your ass kicked by Butch f***ing Parker. You see I couldn't give two shits about the end result of this stupid wild card tag team match. All I care about is putting a beating on you so bad you'll think twice before you ever bring my family into this again. So you'd better be ready because if you give me one second, just one second, that's all I need to get you in my grip and once a lion gets hold of his prey, there is no escape.
Butch gives the camera one last fiery emerald green glare before he hits send on the remote in an emphatic manner as the recording uploads to the HWA website from his Smart TV and without a beat, about turns and heads back down to the gym as the scene fades to black.
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