Post by Whitey Ford on Mar 26, 2008 15:39:45 GMT -5
::The scene opens inside of a dimly lit bar, a glowing neon sign on the wall reading "Pub 33". Through a thick haze of smoke the camera is directed at Jacob Hastings, who's sitting at the bar with a beer in front of him. His arms are crossed over the countertop, and he stares intently at the beer in front of him, deep in thought. Despite the bar appearing to be a roughneck kind of place...what with all the leather jackets and tattoo's...everyone is giving Hastings a wide berth. The camera shifts over to the door, where IWF interviewer Sarah Maines has walked through the door. The doorman checks her ID.::
Doorman: This isn't a dance club, honey. I like the scenery, but this might not be your kind of bar.
::Sarah glances at the bar, and immediatly notices Hasting's hulking figure.::
Sarah Maines: I'm not here for the drinks. I'm here to interview a certain Mr. Jacob Hasting...the one there, at the bar.
::As Sarah points to Jacob, the doorman turns...and immediatly shakes his head, looking a bit shaken up.::
Doorman: Good luck with him. He'd been in two fights since he showed up an hour ago, and won't talk to anybody besides the tender.
::Sarah goes to walk past the doorman, but he bars her way, smiling down at her.::
Doorman: You know...why don't you forget about him...and let me buy you a drink.
Sarah Maines: No, thanks. I'm just here to do my job.
.
::The doorman still doesn't move, but his smile fades away.::
Doorman: I wasn't ASKING to buy you a drink, little lady. I'm telling you how its going to happen.
::Before Sarah can respond, Jacob Hasting whirls the man around and shoves him up against a wall, grabbing onto the front of his shirt.::
Jacob Hasting: Theirs a lot of things that I hate in this world, and unlucky for you one of them is overbearing, overweight douchebags who can't take no for an answer
::Sarah interjects herself.::
Sarah Maines: You don't have to do that, I can--
::Hasting turns towards Maines, pointing a finger directly at her face.::
Jacob Hasting: Shut the FUCK up, I wasn't talking to you.
::Before Jacob can turn his attention back to the doorman, he's caught with a right cross to the face. Shaking off the blow, Hasting throws the doorman away from him and subsequently onto a pool table.::
Jacob Hasting: This bar sucks. You all punch like boy scouts.
::Hasting grabs his coat off the nearby rack and barrels out the door, still muttering obscenities and such. Sarah Maines doesn't want to be caught in a shady bar by herself, so she exits as well and catches up to the IWF superstar.::
Sarah Hastings: I was sent here to get an interview from you, you know.
::Jacob doesn't stop walking, only gives her a sidewards glance before pulling out a softpack of ciggarettes. Pulling one out and lighting it up with a book of matches, he exhales the smoke before responding.::
Jacob Hasting: I guess I can't stop you from asking questions.
Sarah Maines: Well, all right...what are your goals here in the IWF?
Jacob Hasting: The only 'goal' I have to is to beat the hell out of that limpwrist asshole Alexis Morningstar.
Sarah Maines: Why don't you like him, anyways?
Jacob Hasting: Because the first thing I saw when I turned on a TV backstage is that jerkoff trying to get lovey dovey with the boss. Its pretty boy's like him that try to use fancy titles and nicknames to make themselves look better, and pray that shit gets handed to them on a golden fucking platter.
Sarah Maines: What makes you feel that way?
::Hasting stops walking, and gives Maines a very quizzical look. Giving her a once over, he makes an irritated sound.::
Jacob Hasting: What makes you wear a bra?
::Sarah is taken back by the bluntness of the question, and even takes a step back in surprise.::
Sarah Maines: Thats rude thing to ask!
Jacob Hasting: Yeah, and your question was stupid. Your not a shrink, and if you are, I don't want to speak to you. Period. This interview is over, I need to find another bar.
::And just like that, Jacob Hasting turns the corner, leaving Sarah Maines seething from the exchange.::
Doorman: This isn't a dance club, honey. I like the scenery, but this might not be your kind of bar.
::Sarah glances at the bar, and immediatly notices Hasting's hulking figure.::
Sarah Maines: I'm not here for the drinks. I'm here to interview a certain Mr. Jacob Hasting...the one there, at the bar.
::As Sarah points to Jacob, the doorman turns...and immediatly shakes his head, looking a bit shaken up.::
Doorman: Good luck with him. He'd been in two fights since he showed up an hour ago, and won't talk to anybody besides the tender.
::Sarah goes to walk past the doorman, but he bars her way, smiling down at her.::
Doorman: You know...why don't you forget about him...and let me buy you a drink.
Sarah Maines: No, thanks. I'm just here to do my job.
.
::The doorman still doesn't move, but his smile fades away.::
Doorman: I wasn't ASKING to buy you a drink, little lady. I'm telling you how its going to happen.
::Before Sarah can respond, Jacob Hasting whirls the man around and shoves him up against a wall, grabbing onto the front of his shirt.::
Jacob Hasting: Theirs a lot of things that I hate in this world, and unlucky for you one of them is overbearing, overweight douchebags who can't take no for an answer
::Sarah interjects herself.::
Sarah Maines: You don't have to do that, I can--
::Hasting turns towards Maines, pointing a finger directly at her face.::
Jacob Hasting: Shut the FUCK up, I wasn't talking to you.
::Before Jacob can turn his attention back to the doorman, he's caught with a right cross to the face. Shaking off the blow, Hasting throws the doorman away from him and subsequently onto a pool table.::
Jacob Hasting: This bar sucks. You all punch like boy scouts.
::Hasting grabs his coat off the nearby rack and barrels out the door, still muttering obscenities and such. Sarah Maines doesn't want to be caught in a shady bar by herself, so she exits as well and catches up to the IWF superstar.::
Sarah Hastings: I was sent here to get an interview from you, you know.
::Jacob doesn't stop walking, only gives her a sidewards glance before pulling out a softpack of ciggarettes. Pulling one out and lighting it up with a book of matches, he exhales the smoke before responding.::
Jacob Hasting: I guess I can't stop you from asking questions.
Sarah Maines: Well, all right...what are your goals here in the IWF?
Jacob Hasting: The only 'goal' I have to is to beat the hell out of that limpwrist asshole Alexis Morningstar.
Sarah Maines: Why don't you like him, anyways?
Jacob Hasting: Because the first thing I saw when I turned on a TV backstage is that jerkoff trying to get lovey dovey with the boss. Its pretty boy's like him that try to use fancy titles and nicknames to make themselves look better, and pray that shit gets handed to them on a golden fucking platter.
Sarah Maines: What makes you feel that way?
::Hasting stops walking, and gives Maines a very quizzical look. Giving her a once over, he makes an irritated sound.::
Jacob Hasting: What makes you wear a bra?
::Sarah is taken back by the bluntness of the question, and even takes a step back in surprise.::
Sarah Maines: Thats rude thing to ask!
Jacob Hasting: Yeah, and your question was stupid. Your not a shrink, and if you are, I don't want to speak to you. Period. This interview is over, I need to find another bar.
::And just like that, Jacob Hasting turns the corner, leaving Sarah Maines seething from the exchange.::