Post by samfinn on Mar 15, 2007 22:10:35 GMT -5
(Sam Finn's house is a mess, as usual. Beside his bed there sits a letter adressed to '2nd Lieutenat Finn, Samuel A.', from the United States Air Force, 66th Air Force Unit 6th Tactical Unit. It reads;)
Lieutenant,
You are hereby called to the front lines in Afghanistan. Effective Monday, March 19th, you will be considered an active combat pilot and will be charged under desertion laws if you are not present at the USAF air base at 0945 on March 19th.
-Major Caroline Schezar, 66th AF 6th TU
(Sam Finn sits in his garage, with Miracle Blade sitting against the wall and his Harley sits in the middle of the garage. A 'FOR SALE' sign is sitting beside it. Sam is talking on his cell phone, to his Real Estate agent.)
STORM: That's $1000 under the asking price! What the (BLEEP) are you - still I - alright, fine, do it. I'm never coming back here anyways.
(He clicks the phone shut, and sighs. Pulling the for sale sign in his pocket, he moves his bike outside and tapes the sign to it. He kneels beside the bike.)
STORM: I'm going to miss you.
(His phone rings.)
STORM: Hello?
JENNY: Hey! I just got your message. I -
STORM: Listen, forget about me, okay? Forget about anything that holds you to me and keep on living, alright? I don't exist anymore. It - it was fun, Jenn.
(Sam clicks his phone shut, puts it in his pocket, then puts it on the ground and stomps it flat. The phone in his house starts ringing, and he ignores it. A man with wavvy black hair walks up and looks at the bike.)
ROGER JONES: Beauty! Selling her, hey? How much?
STORM: Well, it's a custom 19-
ROGER JONES: Sold! How much do you want for it?
STORM: Just take it.
ROGER JONES: Ha! You're the boss, kid! If I'm not being to nosy, why are you selling her?
STORM: I'm shipping out on Monday. There's nothing here that I need anymore. Just take it and go, before I change my mind.
ROGER JONES: Kid, I feel for you. I'm going to write you a check, and drive away. Got a helmet?
(Sam hands him the helmet.)
ROGER JONES: Here, kid. This should be enough for whatever you need until you leave.
(The check reads: $30,000.)
STORM: I -
(Sam looks at the bike, then tears the check into pieces. He grabs back the helmet.)
STORM: I can't sell her.
ROGER JONES: What? I wouldn't pay over 25 large for that normally! You can't just -
STORM; Get lost before I get pissed off.
(The man swears, and takes a kick at the bike. Sam grabs his leg, and flips him onto his back with his foot on his throat. Sam looks him in the eyes, and he starts to beg and plead. Sam tosses him away, then rips off the For Sale sign and climbs on his bike. He pulls it into the garage and puts Miracle Blade beside it.)
STORM; So this is it, huh?
(Sam goes into his house, and grabs the eight bags full of clothes, the box of electronics and loads them on his bike with a mess of straps. He sees the Real Estate agent pull up outside.)
MATT JOHNSTONE: Well, is everything but the furniture gone?
STORM: Yeah. All I got is this stuff.
(He gestures to the boxes of stuff.)
STORM: I rented a storage space downtown, so I'll put this stuff in there, too. My bike, if I can fit it.
MATT JOHNSTONE: Listen, Sam, I -
STORM: Don't worry about it. Just give me the check.
(Johnstone hands him the check and shakes his hand. He says some small words of thanks, and goes inside with a final look at the giant man.)
(Sam hops on his bike, and heads for his bank. Fortuantely, it's not too far away, and the line inside is small.)
STORM: Hi, I'd like to cash this and put it immediatley into account 07-217406, please.
WENDY NEWMAN: Right away, sir.
(The teller cashes the check, and shuffles off to go enter it into Sam's account. He leaves before she can come back.)
(Sam jumps back on his bike and starts on the road to the NAPW Calgary studio, before storing his stuff and taking a bus to Moose Jaw.)
(He goes inside, and finds Chazz and Beast waiting for him. They head up to the desk, and sit down.)
CHAZZ CARSON; Well, folks, we're here at the first of the three last promo tapings for the Storm, Sam Finn. Tell us Sam, why are you leaving NAPW?
STORM: The management wasn't real happy about me being there, and then today I got this letter to head back out onto the battlefield.
BEAST CARRY: That sucks! But Sam, going out into a Sole Survivor match for the last one must be OK, though? Right?
STORM: The one good side to this is that I can do anything I want in this match. No regulations and no rules for Storm this time.
BEAST CARRY: So, can you sum up what you're going to do to the other fighters in this next match?
STORM: I'm going to break bones, spill blood and chew gum, just like I always do. But, I really want to go out with a bang this time.
CHAZZ CARSON: Isn't there a trademark on that ...?
STORM: So, watch out, the rest of you little bastards. I'm going to introduce you to a new world of pain.
CHAZZ CARSON: Sam, we haven't heard a lot from your NAPW career. No titles, no nothing. Are you proud of what you've left behind?
STORM: Maybe NAPW and I aren't a good fit. I'm a fighter pilot, not a wrestler, and that's becoming more and more apparent with every match I win and every match I lose. I have to go, pretty quickly, so I'll see the both of you in Moose Jaw.
BEAST CARRY: You heard it here, ladies and gentlemen! The Storm is passing by! We'll tell you more on our next broadcast.
(Sam immediatley leaves, climbs on his bike, and heads over to the storage area and puts in all of his stuff.)
STORM: So, my paycheck's going to cover this for a while. Take special care of my stuff, okay?
MANAGER: You got it, sir. Tell your friends!
(Sam catches the bus at a nearby hotel and begins the drive to Moose Jaw, as he leaves the city limits, he looks out the window.)
STORM: Good-bye.
Lieutenant,
You are hereby called to the front lines in Afghanistan. Effective Monday, March 19th, you will be considered an active combat pilot and will be charged under desertion laws if you are not present at the USAF air base at 0945 on March 19th.
-Major Caroline Schezar, 66th AF 6th TU
(Sam Finn sits in his garage, with Miracle Blade sitting against the wall and his Harley sits in the middle of the garage. A 'FOR SALE' sign is sitting beside it. Sam is talking on his cell phone, to his Real Estate agent.)
STORM: That's $1000 under the asking price! What the (BLEEP) are you - still I - alright, fine, do it. I'm never coming back here anyways.
(He clicks the phone shut, and sighs. Pulling the for sale sign in his pocket, he moves his bike outside and tapes the sign to it. He kneels beside the bike.)
STORM: I'm going to miss you.
(His phone rings.)
STORM: Hello?
JENNY: Hey! I just got your message. I -
STORM: Listen, forget about me, okay? Forget about anything that holds you to me and keep on living, alright? I don't exist anymore. It - it was fun, Jenn.
(Sam clicks his phone shut, puts it in his pocket, then puts it on the ground and stomps it flat. The phone in his house starts ringing, and he ignores it. A man with wavvy black hair walks up and looks at the bike.)
ROGER JONES: Beauty! Selling her, hey? How much?
STORM: Well, it's a custom 19-
ROGER JONES: Sold! How much do you want for it?
STORM: Just take it.
ROGER JONES: Ha! You're the boss, kid! If I'm not being to nosy, why are you selling her?
STORM: I'm shipping out on Monday. There's nothing here that I need anymore. Just take it and go, before I change my mind.
ROGER JONES: Kid, I feel for you. I'm going to write you a check, and drive away. Got a helmet?
(Sam hands him the helmet.)
ROGER JONES: Here, kid. This should be enough for whatever you need until you leave.
(The check reads: $30,000.)
STORM: I -
(Sam looks at the bike, then tears the check into pieces. He grabs back the helmet.)
STORM: I can't sell her.
ROGER JONES: What? I wouldn't pay over 25 large for that normally! You can't just -
STORM; Get lost before I get pissed off.
(The man swears, and takes a kick at the bike. Sam grabs his leg, and flips him onto his back with his foot on his throat. Sam looks him in the eyes, and he starts to beg and plead. Sam tosses him away, then rips off the For Sale sign and climbs on his bike. He pulls it into the garage and puts Miracle Blade beside it.)
STORM; So this is it, huh?
(Sam goes into his house, and grabs the eight bags full of clothes, the box of electronics and loads them on his bike with a mess of straps. He sees the Real Estate agent pull up outside.)
MATT JOHNSTONE: Well, is everything but the furniture gone?
STORM: Yeah. All I got is this stuff.
(He gestures to the boxes of stuff.)
STORM: I rented a storage space downtown, so I'll put this stuff in there, too. My bike, if I can fit it.
MATT JOHNSTONE: Listen, Sam, I -
STORM: Don't worry about it. Just give me the check.
(Johnstone hands him the check and shakes his hand. He says some small words of thanks, and goes inside with a final look at the giant man.)
(Sam hops on his bike, and heads for his bank. Fortuantely, it's not too far away, and the line inside is small.)
STORM: Hi, I'd like to cash this and put it immediatley into account 07-217406, please.
WENDY NEWMAN: Right away, sir.
(The teller cashes the check, and shuffles off to go enter it into Sam's account. He leaves before she can come back.)
(Sam jumps back on his bike and starts on the road to the NAPW Calgary studio, before storing his stuff and taking a bus to Moose Jaw.)
(He goes inside, and finds Chazz and Beast waiting for him. They head up to the desk, and sit down.)
CHAZZ CARSON; Well, folks, we're here at the first of the three last promo tapings for the Storm, Sam Finn. Tell us Sam, why are you leaving NAPW?
STORM: The management wasn't real happy about me being there, and then today I got this letter to head back out onto the battlefield.
BEAST CARRY: That sucks! But Sam, going out into a Sole Survivor match for the last one must be OK, though? Right?
STORM: The one good side to this is that I can do anything I want in this match. No regulations and no rules for Storm this time.
BEAST CARRY: So, can you sum up what you're going to do to the other fighters in this next match?
STORM: I'm going to break bones, spill blood and chew gum, just like I always do. But, I really want to go out with a bang this time.
CHAZZ CARSON: Isn't there a trademark on that ...?
STORM: So, watch out, the rest of you little bastards. I'm going to introduce you to a new world of pain.
CHAZZ CARSON: Sam, we haven't heard a lot from your NAPW career. No titles, no nothing. Are you proud of what you've left behind?
STORM: Maybe NAPW and I aren't a good fit. I'm a fighter pilot, not a wrestler, and that's becoming more and more apparent with every match I win and every match I lose. I have to go, pretty quickly, so I'll see the both of you in Moose Jaw.
BEAST CARRY: You heard it here, ladies and gentlemen! The Storm is passing by! We'll tell you more on our next broadcast.
(Sam immediatley leaves, climbs on his bike, and heads over to the storage area and puts in all of his stuff.)
STORM: So, my paycheck's going to cover this for a while. Take special care of my stuff, okay?
MANAGER: You got it, sir. Tell your friends!
(Sam catches the bus at a nearby hotel and begins the drive to Moose Jaw, as he leaves the city limits, he looks out the window.)
STORM: Good-bye.