The scene opens up onto the HWA. It’s early Wednesday morning, the sun just creeping above the horizon as into the carpark glides a titanium silver Mclaren 765LT Spider, accented by crimson edges, roof up this time, occupied by a single individual pulls into the car park and heads towards the spaces close to the front of the Academy. (Hans): Ein, to put it on record, Matt, I’m glad you’re ok. His index finger comes up. (Hans): Zwei, answer your phone, shouldn’t take you being jailed for us to find you before a show. His middle finger rises, as he continues to list off. (Hans): Third, you’d better plan on making an appearance in the academy. Matthew and I have some things we can impart to you… that brings me onto… His ring finger extends out. (Hans): Maniac… we’ve never had the pleasure. Not to labour the point, the ‘new blood’ have said it quite well themselves to you, but how can you think that they owe you ‘respect’? You come in, thinking it’s still 2005 and expect everyone to fall in line with your vision? He crosses his arms over his chest as he continues to speak. (Hans): What did you accomplish back in the day? A highlight reel that would be something out of a snuff film and enough broken bones to match the amount of splintered personalities you have arguing for control up there? Tapping his own forehead in emphasis, Hans carries on, sarcasm dripping from every word. (Hans): Some inspiration to the new blood we have coming through… Nostrils flare as he composes himself. (Hans): When Chris Benoit’s brain was scanned, it was found the CTE had degenerated his mind to that of an 85 year old alzheimer sufferer, when they tested Aaron Hernandez’s brain, it was described as ‘the most severe case they had ever seen’.. I shudder to think what they might have to say about you when the time comes Maniac… A low sigh escapes his lips as he shakes his head slowly. (Hans): So… with that said. You… Bryan Deas… just accept that HWA has a bright future with these new stars coming through. We all fight against the tide of time… but it happens nevertheless… the world moves on, times change… if you’re the only one railing against it, maybe it’s you that's in the wrong. You say that they’re ‘too good’ to take any advice or listen… nothing could be further from the truth. Come down to the academy, see it for yourself. He moves a fraction closer to the camera. (Hans): The real question is Maniac… same to you Bryan… same to whoever else for that matter… what do you actually have to offer them? Chaos? Irrelevance? Don’t make me laugh. The scene fades to black as Hans exits the recording room.
Pulling into a space marked as assigned to ‘The Baron’, Hans von Richtoven jumps out of the McLaren the moment he pulls to a halt, eager to get on with the day.
Reaching back into the car, he pulls out his ubiquitous duffel bag, slinging it over his shoulder before reaching back in and grabbing a large Starbucks branded cup in the other. Settling the latter on the roof gently, he closes the car door, locking it and throwing the keys into his duffel bag. Picking up the coffee cup with his hand once more, he makes his way inside the academy.
Nodding to the cleaning staff and receptionist, he makes his way towards his office and the changing room attached.
The scene fades out and back in as he emerges from his office, attired for the day ahead in his training gear, black HWA branded top and a pair of white shorts.
Hans makes his way towards the main training room, phone in one hand as he taps at it, thumbing the volume button up to play the latest promos from the HWA Youtube channel.
Grabbing a mat, Hans slides it out onto the floor, dropping the phone down next to him, as he begins to stretch and loosen up his muscles. Eyes closed, he works through his routine as the promos play.
Coming to both the end of his warm up and the promos, Hans sits cross legged on the mat, contemplatively taking in the relative silence of the room before picking up his phone and replaying one of the promos; Maniacs.
Hearing it a second time, Hans gets to his feet and makes his way to the recording suite where state of the art-of-the-art promo recording equipment has been set-up. Hans enters the booth, by now comfortable with it’s workings having spent some time a few days before the latest Havoc with some of the new intake of rookies and introducing them to benefits of the studio. He composes himself in front of the generic background which just shows a black screen with the HWA logo emblazoned across it.
He holds up his thumb outstretched as he starts to speak.
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