Post by The Morgan Estate on Jul 28, 2020 13:16:52 GMT -5
We open to a dark, dingy boiler room. A few pipes can be seen spewing air in the background as we pan into Ryan Morgan hunched up against the wall, with his right leg supporting his weight. He looks bruised, battered and beaten. He is wearing just black wrestling tights, they say "MORGAN FOUNDATION" on the back of them in neon green.
"Yeah. At least you did me that favour." He smirks to the camera. "
"I asked you not to involve my wife or family and you didn't. Thank you. Now, let's get down to buisness. I promised you the JR Heavyweight Championship, the prestigious junior division belt of EHWF for young up and comers. I told you I would bring it to your arms and I failed. But, here is the thing..."
Morgan points to a thick cut on his forehead.
"I failed because your goons interfered in the fucking match. I had the match WON. So how does that make any sense? I didn't exactly get the memo."
Morgan grabs a pipe from the ground and pats it in his palm a few times.
"I get it. You never wanted me to get the title for you. You wanted to distract me, play with me. Well, that's very fitting of a mafia boss, very cliche. But, the question is, why?"
Morgan looks up for a second, as if he is having a moment with God.
"You already possess the most important thing to me. So, what did you get out of pretending to strike a bargain? Was it... I don't know. But, one thing is for sure. I don't know where you are, what you want... But I will locate you, and I will put my balls into your mouth and make you grind them in your dirty Italian teeth."
"Yeah. At least you did me that favour." He smirks to the camera. "
"I asked you not to involve my wife or family and you didn't. Thank you. Now, let's get down to buisness. I promised you the JR Heavyweight Championship, the prestigious junior division belt of EHWF for young up and comers. I told you I would bring it to your arms and I failed. But, here is the thing..."
Morgan points to a thick cut on his forehead.
"I failed because your goons interfered in the fucking match. I had the match WON. So how does that make any sense? I didn't exactly get the memo."
Morgan grabs a pipe from the ground and pats it in his palm a few times.
"I get it. You never wanted me to get the title for you. You wanted to distract me, play with me. Well, that's very fitting of a mafia boss, very cliche. But, the question is, why?"
Morgan looks up for a second, as if he is having a moment with God.
"You already possess the most important thing to me. So, what did you get out of pretending to strike a bargain? Was it... I don't know. But, one thing is for sure. I don't know where you are, what you want... But I will locate you, and I will put my balls into your mouth and make you grind them in your dirty Italian teeth."
