Post by Ratball Slade on Aug 10, 2021 16:43:06 GMT -5
Present Day
The camera fades in on what appears to be a deep alley surrounded by towering buildings. Slade is seen standing in the center part of the alley that opens up and is surrounded by buildings on all sides. The buildings are void of windows, and the alley is completely isolated with no way in except for the street entrance and a door connected to one of the buildings. Slade’s back is turned to the camera while his head moves from left to right looking up at the buildings around him.
Slade Castle: When I had no home, this became my home. I may have eaten and slept in a house, but I was never home ‘til I was out here. Places like this very alley are where I rebuilt my life. I have bled and I’ve bled others more times than I can even remember. Little dark corners all around the world, not just Detroit, are where…
Slade begins to raise his voice as he starts to lose his temper.
Slade Castle: I EARNED RESPECT!...
Slade turns around and regains some composure. He starts to slowly approach the camera.
Slade Castle: I am a fighter... a warrior... I live to be on the battlefield. I’m not a rabbit running from the hunter. I’m not a bug to be splattered on a windshield. I put people on stretchers. I earn money from the blood and bruises on my knuckles. Last week was no example of what I’m capable of. The damn guy meant to be a “killer” spent most of his time in a puddle of his own blood. I didn’t come here to play games and clearly, this “Redd” guy that stabbed Jason agreed. Apparently we can get away with murder on television now? Sorry, I’m starting to get sidetracked...
Slade is now right by the camera and grabs it around the lens and points it up toward his face.
Slade Castle: But now… we are in my element. A little different, I normally wouldn’t be able to fight in a place like a farmers’ market due to the legal “grey area” my old profession was in, but we are still fighting on solid ground and the only goal is to make sure your opponent ain’t movin no more.
2 Days Prior at Mental Garden Institute
Slade Castle: So then, this dude starts making shapes on his face with the other guy’s blood and…
Sarah Green: Slade, if you could let me speak for a moment, from what you’re saying I’m not sure this is the kind of place you should be working for. It sounds like it may be impacting you in a negative way.
Slade Castle: Whaddaya mean? I may have finally found a place where my skill set can be used in a way that's meaningful. Isn’t that what you’ve been waiting for me to find?
Sarah Green: Well I suppose so…
Slade sits up in his chair, deadly serious now.
Slade Castle: And next week? I finally get to put myself to the test. This time I get to fight to win. No more running. I'm gonna show all these people that you don’t fuck with Slade Castle.
Sarah raises her hand and gestures to Slade to calm down.
Sarah Green: Language please, and keep your voice down.
Slade sits back in his chair and looks down to his cupped hands and makes a cross face.
Slade Castle: All I’m tryin to say is that I am in a position where I feel much more comfortable, and in control.
Sarah Green: Well that’s good, just don’t lose sight of what we are trying to do here.
Slade looks up and snaps back.
Slade Castle: You mean what you’re trying to do here. Not me. I got my own goals and you don’t really fit into them.
2 years ago, somewhere in Detroit
Slade is doing some warm-ups while waiting in the back room of an abandoned warehouse. The occasional roars of a crowd nearby can be heard when loud speakers start to go off nearby.
Speakers: By way of knock out, your winner is… “The Hammer”... Sid!
Slade listens closely. His fight was coming up. A man enters the room from the main area where the crowd is yelling from and approaches Slade.
Manager: Alright kid, this your first fight?
Slade nods.
Manager: Then I’ll make this real easy for yuh, all you're gonna do is go out there, last as long as you can, and give a good show, yeah? There are no rules and the only way a match ends is by knockout. No submissions. If you wanna knockout your opponent with a choke, be my guest by all means, but they can’t tap out. Fight goes ‘til it doesn’t, get me?
Slade nods again then continues his warm-up, shrugging off the manager.
Manager: You listening to me? There’s no backing out. People have died doing this. As far as I’ve seen, you got no official fighting record. I don’t care how tough you are, these guys are trained fighters. They’ll wipe the floor with someone with no experience.
Slade looks up and approaches the manager, getting extremely close.
Slade Castle: Do I look like I need your concern? They’re trained fighters? Well I’m a trained killer, and I don’t need anyone lookin’ over me. I’ll be just fine.
Slade steps away back to where he was. The manager, slightly intimidated but used to this sort of thing, sighs and relaxes his now tightened posture to a more casual one.
Manager: Well, I see you think you can handle yourself, so just don’t be late for your fight.
As the manager starts to walk away, Slade looks over and quickly asks...
Slade Castle: You did say no rules, right?
The manager stops without looking back and responds in a worried tone.
Manager: I suppose I did say that, didn’t I?
The manager leaves the room and Slade smiles as he returns to his warm-up routine. After some time Slade found himself entering the fighting area.
Speaker: Alright everyone! It’s time for the next fight of the evening! First, on the far side of the room in his debut bout, he is a former member of the Marines, this… is… SLAAAAAADE CAAAASTLE!!!
Slade steps forward as a few in the crowd cheer and many remain silent, unsure of the new fighter. Suddenly everyone's attention turns to the other side of the room. A very large figure steps forward.
Speaker: And across the room from him is a man you all know. He is who you send when you need someone hurt. He is who you fear, when you piss off the wrong people, he is “The Great Dane, The Mastodon Marauder!” He… is… FREDRICK ANDERSEN!!!!
Neither man shows any signs of fear of the other as they approach one another. They stare each other down, neither wanting to make the first move. Finally, as Fredrick reaches for Slade, Slade grabs the arm and uses Fredrick’s weight against him and throws Fredrick over his shoulder. When Fredick hits the ground, the wind is knocked out of him and Slade begins throwing a flurry of punches into Fredrick’s face. This continues until the closest thing to a referee pulls Slade off, as Fredrick had lost consciousness not long after the blows began. The crowd explodes and Slade is filled with a sense of purpose, feeling more alive than he had since being discharged. This is what he was meant to do.
Present Day
Slade takes a few steps back and raises his arms.
Slade Castle: Some of the fighters in this match may be looking for gold or even to retain it. I couldn’t give less of a shit about some title.
Slade drops his arms and begins to shake his head with a smirk on his face. He then glances up at the camera.
Slade Castle: What I’m looking for is respect, and respect is earned through fear. There are a few ways to accomplish that. You don’t have to fear me, but you will fear what I can do to you. Lesley Adora, Bianca McBride, Angelo Caito. Keep your eyes on me. I’ll take all three of you on. You turn your back on me, and I’ll show you what a lack of respect gets you. I’ll beat you into the ground until there's nothing recognizable left. So if you’re lucky, maybe you’ll get away with being taken out on a stretcher, cause it’s my goal to send you out in a body bag. Don’t worry, I’m sure we keep those handy now.
Slade passes the camera as it turns to reveal the long alley back to the street. Slade continues walking towards the exit of the alley.
Slade Castle: It’s time to show everyone why they call me the Slayer of the Street...
The camera fades in on what appears to be a deep alley surrounded by towering buildings. Slade is seen standing in the center part of the alley that opens up and is surrounded by buildings on all sides. The buildings are void of windows, and the alley is completely isolated with no way in except for the street entrance and a door connected to one of the buildings. Slade’s back is turned to the camera while his head moves from left to right looking up at the buildings around him.
Slade Castle: When I had no home, this became my home. I may have eaten and slept in a house, but I was never home ‘til I was out here. Places like this very alley are where I rebuilt my life. I have bled and I’ve bled others more times than I can even remember. Little dark corners all around the world, not just Detroit, are where…
Slade begins to raise his voice as he starts to lose his temper.
Slade Castle: I EARNED RESPECT!...
Slade turns around and regains some composure. He starts to slowly approach the camera.
Slade Castle: I am a fighter... a warrior... I live to be on the battlefield. I’m not a rabbit running from the hunter. I’m not a bug to be splattered on a windshield. I put people on stretchers. I earn money from the blood and bruises on my knuckles. Last week was no example of what I’m capable of. The damn guy meant to be a “killer” spent most of his time in a puddle of his own blood. I didn’t come here to play games and clearly, this “Redd” guy that stabbed Jason agreed. Apparently we can get away with murder on television now? Sorry, I’m starting to get sidetracked...
Slade is now right by the camera and grabs it around the lens and points it up toward his face.
Slade Castle: But now… we are in my element. A little different, I normally wouldn’t be able to fight in a place like a farmers’ market due to the legal “grey area” my old profession was in, but we are still fighting on solid ground and the only goal is to make sure your opponent ain’t movin no more.
2 Days Prior at Mental Garden Institute
Slade Castle: So then, this dude starts making shapes on his face with the other guy’s blood and…
Sarah Green: Slade, if you could let me speak for a moment, from what you’re saying I’m not sure this is the kind of place you should be working for. It sounds like it may be impacting you in a negative way.
Slade Castle: Whaddaya mean? I may have finally found a place where my skill set can be used in a way that's meaningful. Isn’t that what you’ve been waiting for me to find?
Sarah Green: Well I suppose so…
Slade sits up in his chair, deadly serious now.
Slade Castle: And next week? I finally get to put myself to the test. This time I get to fight to win. No more running. I'm gonna show all these people that you don’t fuck with Slade Castle.
Sarah raises her hand and gestures to Slade to calm down.
Sarah Green: Language please, and keep your voice down.
Slade sits back in his chair and looks down to his cupped hands and makes a cross face.
Slade Castle: All I’m tryin to say is that I am in a position where I feel much more comfortable, and in control.
Sarah Green: Well that’s good, just don’t lose sight of what we are trying to do here.
Slade looks up and snaps back.
Slade Castle: You mean what you’re trying to do here. Not me. I got my own goals and you don’t really fit into them.
2 years ago, somewhere in Detroit
Slade is doing some warm-ups while waiting in the back room of an abandoned warehouse. The occasional roars of a crowd nearby can be heard when loud speakers start to go off nearby.
Speakers: By way of knock out, your winner is… “The Hammer”... Sid!
Slade listens closely. His fight was coming up. A man enters the room from the main area where the crowd is yelling from and approaches Slade.
Manager: Alright kid, this your first fight?
Slade nods.
Manager: Then I’ll make this real easy for yuh, all you're gonna do is go out there, last as long as you can, and give a good show, yeah? There are no rules and the only way a match ends is by knockout. No submissions. If you wanna knockout your opponent with a choke, be my guest by all means, but they can’t tap out. Fight goes ‘til it doesn’t, get me?
Slade nods again then continues his warm-up, shrugging off the manager.
Manager: You listening to me? There’s no backing out. People have died doing this. As far as I’ve seen, you got no official fighting record. I don’t care how tough you are, these guys are trained fighters. They’ll wipe the floor with someone with no experience.
Slade looks up and approaches the manager, getting extremely close.
Slade Castle: Do I look like I need your concern? They’re trained fighters? Well I’m a trained killer, and I don’t need anyone lookin’ over me. I’ll be just fine.
Slade steps away back to where he was. The manager, slightly intimidated but used to this sort of thing, sighs and relaxes his now tightened posture to a more casual one.
Manager: Well, I see you think you can handle yourself, so just don’t be late for your fight.
As the manager starts to walk away, Slade looks over and quickly asks...
Slade Castle: You did say no rules, right?
The manager stops without looking back and responds in a worried tone.
Manager: I suppose I did say that, didn’t I?
The manager leaves the room and Slade smiles as he returns to his warm-up routine. After some time Slade found himself entering the fighting area.
Speaker: Alright everyone! It’s time for the next fight of the evening! First, on the far side of the room in his debut bout, he is a former member of the Marines, this… is… SLAAAAAADE CAAAASTLE!!!
Slade steps forward as a few in the crowd cheer and many remain silent, unsure of the new fighter. Suddenly everyone's attention turns to the other side of the room. A very large figure steps forward.
Speaker: And across the room from him is a man you all know. He is who you send when you need someone hurt. He is who you fear, when you piss off the wrong people, he is “The Great Dane, The Mastodon Marauder!” He… is… FREDRICK ANDERSEN!!!!
Neither man shows any signs of fear of the other as they approach one another. They stare each other down, neither wanting to make the first move. Finally, as Fredrick reaches for Slade, Slade grabs the arm and uses Fredrick’s weight against him and throws Fredrick over his shoulder. When Fredick hits the ground, the wind is knocked out of him and Slade begins throwing a flurry of punches into Fredrick’s face. This continues until the closest thing to a referee pulls Slade off, as Fredrick had lost consciousness not long after the blows began. The crowd explodes and Slade is filled with a sense of purpose, feeling more alive than he had since being discharged. This is what he was meant to do.
Present Day
Slade takes a few steps back and raises his arms.
Slade Castle: Some of the fighters in this match may be looking for gold or even to retain it. I couldn’t give less of a shit about some title.
Slade drops his arms and begins to shake his head with a smirk on his face. He then glances up at the camera.
Slade Castle: What I’m looking for is respect, and respect is earned through fear. There are a few ways to accomplish that. You don’t have to fear me, but you will fear what I can do to you. Lesley Adora, Bianca McBride, Angelo Caito. Keep your eyes on me. I’ll take all three of you on. You turn your back on me, and I’ll show you what a lack of respect gets you. I’ll beat you into the ground until there's nothing recognizable left. So if you’re lucky, maybe you’ll get away with being taken out on a stretcher, cause it’s my goal to send you out in a body bag. Don’t worry, I’m sure we keep those handy now.
Slade passes the camera as it turns to reveal the long alley back to the street. Slade continues walking towards the exit of the alley.
Slade Castle: It’s time to show everyone why they call me the Slayer of the Street...
