Post by samfinn on Feb 19, 2007 18:12:30 GMT -5
(The room is dark. A pile of clothes sit next to an unmade bed, upon which rests a large black suitcases and a satchel. A closer look reveals the suitcase is not yet full, about half. But, is the suitcase half full or half empty?)
(The question is answered when Sam Finn shoves a cluster of clothes into the suitcase. He is packing for something. An overnight stay somewhere? Training, perhaps? No. Sam Finn is going to Cancun.)
STORM: Well, that looks like it. Guess I'm ready.
(Sam zips up the suitcase and hefts the satchel, which is full of books, his white iPod Nano, and a portable DVD player with movies such as Shaun of the Dead and Leathal Weapon 2.)
(Sam casts around momentarily, as if looking for something.)
STORM: Tickets, tickets. Dammit.
(His grey eyes settle on the wall safe hanging over his bed. He walks over to it, then enters the combination. 26-5-32. It swings open. Inside are the plane tickets, resting atop a loaded .45 and stacks of money.)
STORM: There's the little bastard.
(Sam grabs the tickets and a stack of U.S. $20's. He shuts the safe, tests it to ensure it's locked, and puts the money in the satchel. He shoves the tickets into his right pocket.)
(He goes outside, to find the taxi waiting that he called ten minutes ago. He climbs inside.)
STORM: Airport, and step on it.
CABBIE: You're that boss, man.
(The Cabbie speaks with a heavy Indian accent, and the taxi smells of cigarettes and something else. Something Storm can't quite put his finger on.)
CABBIE: So, where you off too?
STORM: Mexico. Cancun.
CABBIE: Ahh. Me and the missus went there for our 25th anniversary. Surf was a little rough, but I'd go back again.
(Storm grunts in acknowledgement, then gropes in his pocket for his cell phone. He pulls it out, and checks the calender.)
Less than two weeks. Less than two weeks until Muerte and me.
CABBIE: You know, you look kind of familiar. Are you on TV, mister ...?
STORM: Finn. Sam Finn.
CABBIE: I knew it! I knew it! You're the guy who won that six-man scramble match at Cold Snap! The guy who ... Anyways, what an honour!
STORM: The guy who what. Come on.
CABBIE: Well, everyone knows you're really Jack Saffire!
(Sam Finn's hands snatches left and grabs the driver's arm. The Cabbie gasps, then falls silent for a moment.)
STORM: Listen. I'm not Jack Saffire, okay? And if you mention that one more time, I swear on whatever Gods you have that I'm gonna --
CABBIE: We're here! Please ... don't hurt me! The fare, it's -
(Sam Finn has already exited the car, grabbed his luggage and went into the airport.)
CABBIE: That's right! Run like a little --
(A few minutes later Sam is sitting uncomfortably in the airport's terminal waiting room, watching the clock move antagonisingly slow.)
Tick, Tock. Tick, Tock.
(The clock finally reaches 8: 35. Sam grabs his satchel, having already checked in his bigger luggage, and boards the Boeing 767. He moves to the back, to his assigned place of seating; 37 F. The window seat.)
(Out of the window he sees the gray-metal wing of the plane, and some person on a cherrypicker waiting to de-ice the wing. Bored out of his mind, Sam falls asleep.)
The world is a barren wasteland spewing fire and lava and ash. People are screaming everywhere, crawling on the burning ground like animals, turned wild and gone insane. Atop a small rise there is an immense pillar of flames. The burning bodies of men, women and children lie at the bottom, and a particular woman is being burned alive. Her long, red hair is being scorched off her scalp, her eyes and boiled and draining from their sockets; and her skin is a festering mass. She is screaming something.
YOU DID THIS TO ME
A face flashes. The same woman, but unburned and giving birth to a small, red haired child.
(Sam Finn awakes in a sweat. An attractive stewardess is speaking softly to him. Her nametag reads 'JENNY'.)
JENNY: Sir? Would you like some water? Or maybe you have an appetite for something else ...?
(She looks at him and winks. Sam shakes off the nightmare, for it is little more than an irritation, and answers back.)
STORM: What are my choices?
JENNY: Would you like to have a look at the menu?
(Jenny leans forward and gives Sam a full veiw of her chest.)
STORM: Now that's a fine selection.
AIRLINE PASSENGER: Oh, GET A ROOM!
(Sam leans forward and hits the man. Not as hard as he could, but hard enough to hurt him.)
(Just as Sam is about to put the final moves on Jenny, when a middle aged stewardess leans out from the front of the plane.)
STEWARDESS: Jenny! Could you come help me with the food for a moment?
(Jenny sighs and walks away, gazing back at Sam as she moves through the aisle toward the cockpit.)
Shit.
(Just when he is about to go back to sleep, he notices a piece of paper wedged into the closed tray. He smells a slight hint of perfume when he removes it.)
(The paper reads, "Jenny Green, Room 5413, Grand Oasis Cancun. 403-844-6112. Call me back home.)
STEWARDESS: Passengers, we are touching down in Cancun now. Please ensure your tray tables are stowed in the upright and locked posistion, and any baggage is stowed in the overhead storage compartments or below the seat in front of you. Thank you for flying Air Canada.
(An hour later, Sam throws his luggage into his room (5402) and heads for 5413. He reaches the door, triggers the doorbell, and is greeted by a half-naked Jenny whose mouth is locked onto his.)
Straight to the point, huh?
(The next morning, Storm is lying beachside with Jenny, and they are both talking about their careers. Jenny has just finished talking about being a flight attendant.)
JENNY: So? What about you? What keeps you busy?
STORM: I'm in the New Alberta Pro Wrestling league.
JENNY: Really? That's so cool! Are you any good?
STORM: I have a match on the 20th. I'd be more than willing to give you a free ticket and an ... 'insider's bonus'.
JENNY: My God, You're a machine!
(The Storm hits Mexico hard, in a flurry of Tequila and rugburn. Sam comes back to Calgary a week later, on the 18th.)
(He first heads to his house, drops off his stuff, and heads to the WPVN Calgary station. Upon arrival, he is greeted by Tony "Chazz" Carson and Fred "Beast" Carry.)
STORM: Hey, Carry. Hey, Carson.
CHAZZ CARSON: Sam! Right this way! How was your vacation?
BEAST CARRY: Get any strange ass? Do some shots?
STORM: Yes and yes.
BEAST CARRY: Yes! Score! I taught him everything he knows, you know Tony.
STORM: Yeah. Whatever, virgin boy. The only ass you've ever seen was in a high school gym locker room.
BEAST CARRY: I have a wife, Sam! So ... HA!
STORM: Just how old are you, six? Seven?
(They enter the studio. Carson and Carry take their respective seats, left to right, leaving Sam the middle seat. They all take their seats, and a studio worker places a pitcher of water on the table along with three glasses.)
(Sam pours the water, and chugs down four glasses before someone tells them they're on in 3...2...1...)
CHAZZ CARSON: Hey, NAPW fans! We're only a few hours away from the match between Dio Muerte and the Storm, Sam Finn. He joins us again, here in Calgary! How are you, Sam?
STORM: Pretty good.
BEAST CARRY: We hear you just got back from vacation in Mexico. How was that?
STORM: Excellent. I highly recommend it. Still, I was counting the days until my next match.
BEAST CARRY: We all were, here at WPVN, Sam! Tell us, are you even going to try against Muerte? Even if you lose, you go on.
STORM: You know, Beast, winning is always good. Even if it doesn't matter, a good fighter would always go in for the maximum amount of wins possible.
CHAZZ CARSON: So, you're going to give it all you've got?
STORM: Damn straight! Watch out, Muerte. Better get ready for the pain.
BEAST CARRY: Break a leg, out there, Sam.
STORM: Which one? His Left or Right?
BEAST CARRY: It's a figure of --
CHAZZ CARSON: We are out of time, here, NAPW fans! Watch the Storm's match against Dio Muerte right here, on WPVN.
(The question is answered when Sam Finn shoves a cluster of clothes into the suitcase. He is packing for something. An overnight stay somewhere? Training, perhaps? No. Sam Finn is going to Cancun.)
STORM: Well, that looks like it. Guess I'm ready.
(Sam zips up the suitcase and hefts the satchel, which is full of books, his white iPod Nano, and a portable DVD player with movies such as Shaun of the Dead and Leathal Weapon 2.)
(Sam casts around momentarily, as if looking for something.)
STORM: Tickets, tickets. Dammit.
(His grey eyes settle on the wall safe hanging over his bed. He walks over to it, then enters the combination. 26-5-32. It swings open. Inside are the plane tickets, resting atop a loaded .45 and stacks of money.)
STORM: There's the little bastard.
(Sam grabs the tickets and a stack of U.S. $20's. He shuts the safe, tests it to ensure it's locked, and puts the money in the satchel. He shoves the tickets into his right pocket.)
(He goes outside, to find the taxi waiting that he called ten minutes ago. He climbs inside.)
STORM: Airport, and step on it.
CABBIE: You're that boss, man.
(The Cabbie speaks with a heavy Indian accent, and the taxi smells of cigarettes and something else. Something Storm can't quite put his finger on.)
CABBIE: So, where you off too?
STORM: Mexico. Cancun.
CABBIE: Ahh. Me and the missus went there for our 25th anniversary. Surf was a little rough, but I'd go back again.
(Storm grunts in acknowledgement, then gropes in his pocket for his cell phone. He pulls it out, and checks the calender.)
Less than two weeks. Less than two weeks until Muerte and me.
CABBIE: You know, you look kind of familiar. Are you on TV, mister ...?
STORM: Finn. Sam Finn.
CABBIE: I knew it! I knew it! You're the guy who won that six-man scramble match at Cold Snap! The guy who ... Anyways, what an honour!
STORM: The guy who what. Come on.
CABBIE: Well, everyone knows you're really Jack Saffire!
(Sam Finn's hands snatches left and grabs the driver's arm. The Cabbie gasps, then falls silent for a moment.)
STORM: Listen. I'm not Jack Saffire, okay? And if you mention that one more time, I swear on whatever Gods you have that I'm gonna --
CABBIE: We're here! Please ... don't hurt me! The fare, it's -
(Sam Finn has already exited the car, grabbed his luggage and went into the airport.)
CABBIE: That's right! Run like a little --
(A few minutes later Sam is sitting uncomfortably in the airport's terminal waiting room, watching the clock move antagonisingly slow.)
Tick, Tock. Tick, Tock.
(The clock finally reaches 8: 35. Sam grabs his satchel, having already checked in his bigger luggage, and boards the Boeing 767. He moves to the back, to his assigned place of seating; 37 F. The window seat.)
(Out of the window he sees the gray-metal wing of the plane, and some person on a cherrypicker waiting to de-ice the wing. Bored out of his mind, Sam falls asleep.)
The world is a barren wasteland spewing fire and lava and ash. People are screaming everywhere, crawling on the burning ground like animals, turned wild and gone insane. Atop a small rise there is an immense pillar of flames. The burning bodies of men, women and children lie at the bottom, and a particular woman is being burned alive. Her long, red hair is being scorched off her scalp, her eyes and boiled and draining from their sockets; and her skin is a festering mass. She is screaming something.
YOU DID THIS TO ME
A face flashes. The same woman, but unburned and giving birth to a small, red haired child.
(Sam Finn awakes in a sweat. An attractive stewardess is speaking softly to him. Her nametag reads 'JENNY'.)
JENNY: Sir? Would you like some water? Or maybe you have an appetite for something else ...?
(She looks at him and winks. Sam shakes off the nightmare, for it is little more than an irritation, and answers back.)
STORM: What are my choices?
JENNY: Would you like to have a look at the menu?
(Jenny leans forward and gives Sam a full veiw of her chest.)
STORM: Now that's a fine selection.
AIRLINE PASSENGER: Oh, GET A ROOM!
(Sam leans forward and hits the man. Not as hard as he could, but hard enough to hurt him.)
(Just as Sam is about to put the final moves on Jenny, when a middle aged stewardess leans out from the front of the plane.)
STEWARDESS: Jenny! Could you come help me with the food for a moment?
(Jenny sighs and walks away, gazing back at Sam as she moves through the aisle toward the cockpit.)
Shit.
(Just when he is about to go back to sleep, he notices a piece of paper wedged into the closed tray. He smells a slight hint of perfume when he removes it.)
(The paper reads, "Jenny Green, Room 5413, Grand Oasis Cancun. 403-844-6112. Call me back home.)
STEWARDESS: Passengers, we are touching down in Cancun now. Please ensure your tray tables are stowed in the upright and locked posistion, and any baggage is stowed in the overhead storage compartments or below the seat in front of you. Thank you for flying Air Canada.
(An hour later, Sam throws his luggage into his room (5402) and heads for 5413. He reaches the door, triggers the doorbell, and is greeted by a half-naked Jenny whose mouth is locked onto his.)
Straight to the point, huh?
(The next morning, Storm is lying beachside with Jenny, and they are both talking about their careers. Jenny has just finished talking about being a flight attendant.)
JENNY: So? What about you? What keeps you busy?
STORM: I'm in the New Alberta Pro Wrestling league.
JENNY: Really? That's so cool! Are you any good?
STORM: I have a match on the 20th. I'd be more than willing to give you a free ticket and an ... 'insider's bonus'.
JENNY: My God, You're a machine!
(The Storm hits Mexico hard, in a flurry of Tequila and rugburn. Sam comes back to Calgary a week later, on the 18th.)
(He first heads to his house, drops off his stuff, and heads to the WPVN Calgary station. Upon arrival, he is greeted by Tony "Chazz" Carson and Fred "Beast" Carry.)
STORM: Hey, Carry. Hey, Carson.
CHAZZ CARSON: Sam! Right this way! How was your vacation?
BEAST CARRY: Get any strange ass? Do some shots?
STORM: Yes and yes.
BEAST CARRY: Yes! Score! I taught him everything he knows, you know Tony.
STORM: Yeah. Whatever, virgin boy. The only ass you've ever seen was in a high school gym locker room.
BEAST CARRY: I have a wife, Sam! So ... HA!
STORM: Just how old are you, six? Seven?
(They enter the studio. Carson and Carry take their respective seats, left to right, leaving Sam the middle seat. They all take their seats, and a studio worker places a pitcher of water on the table along with three glasses.)
(Sam pours the water, and chugs down four glasses before someone tells them they're on in 3...2...1...)
CHAZZ CARSON: Hey, NAPW fans! We're only a few hours away from the match between Dio Muerte and the Storm, Sam Finn. He joins us again, here in Calgary! How are you, Sam?
STORM: Pretty good.
BEAST CARRY: We hear you just got back from vacation in Mexico. How was that?
STORM: Excellent. I highly recommend it. Still, I was counting the days until my next match.
BEAST CARRY: We all were, here at WPVN, Sam! Tell us, are you even going to try against Muerte? Even if you lose, you go on.
STORM: You know, Beast, winning is always good. Even if it doesn't matter, a good fighter would always go in for the maximum amount of wins possible.
CHAZZ CARSON: So, you're going to give it all you've got?
STORM: Damn straight! Watch out, Muerte. Better get ready for the pain.
BEAST CARRY: Break a leg, out there, Sam.
STORM: Which one? His Left or Right?
BEAST CARRY: It's a figure of --
CHAZZ CARSON: We are out of time, here, NAPW fans! Watch the Storm's match against Dio Muerte right here, on WPVN.