001 | Mondae Equals Nothing

[Deleted]

You got fuckin’ shit, girl; just a fuckin’ cock-sucking mouth. You want to know the fuckin’ truth, Mondae? You don’t have no fuckin’ chance inside the ring against me. I was smashing motherfuckin’ skulls, destroying top contenders, while you were here trying to figure out how to shove a damn tampon up your bloody fuckin’ pussy.

So listen fuckin’ close, bitch, because this fuckin’ part, this is the part where I open your eyes, tear you to shreds, and you come to the fuckin’ realization that you, Mondae, ain’t got no fuckin’ chance against me.

Everybody watching, everybody that has bought a stupid fuckin’ ticket to Deception, every person besides your delusional friend there, Arianny, knows — you don’t stand a chance locked inside a torture chamber with me. Even on fuckin’ paper, you don’t stand a chance.

Yeah, so what? You might be a better fuckin’ wrestler than me. Who cares? This ain’t no wrestling match; not even close. This is a fuckin’ brawl, a fuckin’ blood fest. Fight to stay alive. No matter what your dipshit father taught you, nothing can prepare you for this, and not no six shitty months in the industry.

Everything that I will fuckin’ throw at you will have two hundred and fifty-four pounds behind it. Every time I drive my fist, my knee or my foot into your face, you will feel every connection, and I ain’t swinging up but down because all you stand is a fuckin’ cock height to me, and remember, Mondae, what comes down is always fuckin’ harder than what comes up.

I hit harder than you; I’m fuckin’ stronger than you, and bitch, I’m faster than you. So, tell me, fuckin’ explain to me how you even have any fuckin’ chance in defeating me, huh? Whatcha going to do?

Do you want to fuckin’ know something, Mondae? You want to know what you are going to be remembered as… the bitch who could never get the job done when it matters the most. You couldn’t win the Deathcore Championship; you couldn’t advance in the RSW Supreme tournament, and you couldn’t even kill an 8-year-old little girl. But, Jack, I burnt down the battle art pro building. Bitch, please, that shit has been burnt to the ground more times than Arianny has fuckin’ spread her legs.

Mondae Chaos, the girl that could just never get the job fuckin’ done. HA!

FADE IN:

INT. ABANDONED WAREHOUSE – LOCATION UNKNOWN – AUGUST 22ND, 2016

Inside an abandoned warehouse, destroyed from years and years of neglect, laid Jack Owyns's living quarters. There is a mattress, lying on the ground, with a sheet and a pillow case in a ball in the middle. He also has a sofa, which he may have recovered from a dumpster, and two milk crates, one stacked on top of the other, forming a coffee table. On the coffee table sits a 9mm handgun, which Jack had taken apart as he cleans it. A two-four of whiskey is on the makeshift coffee table as well.

Jack is in his boxers, wearing his steel-toe boots. Music is blaring in the background.

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INT. ABANDONED WAREHOUSE – LOCATION UNKNOWN – MOMENTS LATER

Jack Owyns is on the ground, doing pushups. He is almost touching the ground, pushing himself back up over and over again in a fast-paced motion.

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INT. ABANDONED WAREHOUSE – LOCATION UNKNOWN – MOMENTS LATER

Jack Owyns is doing sit-ups on the floor. His pace is growning faster and faster each time.

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INT. ABANDONED WAREHOUSE – LOCATION UNKNOWN – MOMENTS LATER

Jack Owyns is standing up, sweating, as he chugged the two-four of whiskey.

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INT. ABANDONED WAREHOUSE – LOCATION UNKNOWN – MOMENTS LATER

Jack Owyns uses an exposed piece of rebar as a chin-up bar.

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INT. ABANDONED WAREHOUSE – LOCATION UNKNOWN – MOMENTS LATER

Jack Owyns looks angry as he drives his left fist and then right fist repeatedly into a sheet of metal, over and over again.

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INT. ABANDONED WAREHOUSE – LOCATION UNKNOWN – MOMENTS LATER

Jack Owyns finishes the two-four of whiskey and then turns around and chucks the empty bottle towards a bunch of rubble that used to be part of the structure of the warehouse.

JACK OWYNS: “Fuck.”

The bottle explodes, shattering into pieces against a chunk of cement. Georgia DeLise, who has just arrived, stares for a moment at the broken glass before turning and looking at Jack Owyns. He looks at her for only a second before walking away and turning the music off.

He sits down on the crappy couch, grabs a T-shirt from the armrest, wipes the sweat from his forehead, and then wipes the blood from his knuckles.

JACK OWYNS: “What are you doing here?”

Georgia DeLise crosses the gap of the room that separates her and Jack.

GEORGIA DELISE: “I just haven’t really heard from you and haven’t seen you since Vendetta. I was worried and thought I’d check up on you.”

Jack turns the T-shirt into a ball and tosses it to the floor.

JACK OWYNS: “Now you seen me; I’m fuckin’ fine.”

Georgia DeLise stands in front of Jack now.

GEORGIA DELISE: “Well, I thought you should know that Mondae—"

JACK OWYNS: “I don’t give two fucks what Mondae has said or done.”

Georgia takes a seat beside Jack.

GEORGIA DELISE: “Is everything okay?”

JACK OWYNS: “Everything is fuckin’ peachy.”

Jack leans forward and begins to reassemble the 9mm handgun he had taken apart.

JACK OWYNS: “It's just how I fuckin’ prepare for a fight, for a fuckin’ war, you know. Tune out the fuckin’ world around me, and go into fuckin’ solitude. Focus on the task at hand—"

GEORGIA DELISE: “Killing Mondae Chaos?”

JACK OWYNS: “Ha! I don’t want to fuckin’ kill her — just fuckin’ torture her. Hurt her over and over again. Break her fuckin’ down. Make her feel a whole life of fuckin’ pain in a half-hour time span. Make her bleed and even break a few of her fuckin’ bones. Make her scream and cry, 'Oh please, Jack, no more.'”

Georgia just looks at Jack.

JACK OWYNS: “And once I’m fuckin’ finished, and she has nothing more to give, I’m going to fuckin’ take her and make her my new fuckin’ toy. Put her in a fuckin’ cage and treat her like the fuckin’ dog she is. Ha! Put a fuckin’ collar on her, and take her for a fuckin’ walk.”

GEORGIA DELISE: “Jack.”

JACK OWYNS: “I’m going to make the bitch crave suicide, but I won’t allow her. She will get no easy way out. I want her to stare at my fuckin’ face every day and remember the man who took everything from her. That’s what I want. That’s what I will get.”

Georgia looks at Jack with horror in her eyes.

JACK OWYNS: “She will regret ever going near fuckin’ Mackenzie.”

Georgia places her hand on Jack’s shoulder.

JACK OWYNS: “This will be all-out war, and I’m giving it everything I fuckin’ got.”

FADE TO BLACK.