Post by Jack Tracks on Oct 24, 2011 3:48:29 GMT -5
With the first match of this week's episode of Live over, the camera shifts to the back of the arena, where the familiar trio of Jack Tracks, his buddy Jumpin' Jack Flash, and the gorgeous Missy Sippy made their way through the halls. Tracks, in the center, seems to have a noticeable limp in his step this evening, however, slowing him down a pace, his face wincing after any particularly heavy steps. On either side, his companions look to be sharing concerned words, as Missy lightly puts her hand on Tracks' side, over his usual jacket. But the former Television Champion, shakes his head, as they walk closer to the camera.
"-n't give those fucks the satisfaction. I'm going out there tonight, and that's that!"
Tracks turns to look away from them, and finds Charlie Coors waiting in his way, microphone in hand. Jack knows exactly what that means, and stops, a look of mild irritation on his face.
"Hey there, Zima. Lemme guess...you got some questions for Jack Tracks about last night, don'cha?"
Coors looks a bit embarrassed, stammering his words some after being called out so blatantly.
"W-well yeah...I mean, it's m-"
"Just get to it. I gotta get ready to twist a motherfucker's head off tonight."
Tracks stares Coors down, a much more venom-filled look in his eyes than the audience is used to seeing. The stoner announcer/interviewer instinctively lowers his knees a bit, shrinking down under Jack Tracks' gaze.
"Uhh....of...of course. Well then...at Full Circle, you were in the Death From Above match. Y-You weren't able to get the Ticket, but from the murmurs in the locker room, it sounds like people are beginning to take more and more notice of you. How do you feel today?"
Jack's gaze went from pissy to...slightly dumbfounded. His eyebrow quirked, with a look that just screamed "are you kidding?"
"How do I feel? Did you see what went on in that match? How many times I was knocked off that ladder? How many times I crashed and burned into the cement? How those two fucks tried to completely collapse my respiratory system with the ladder? I'd say I don't feel my best right now. But I will say this..."
Tracks had to stop in mid-sentence, wincing in the middle of his speech. His body folds ever-so-slightly, and both of his companions reached out to him. See if he was okay. He turned back, brushing their hands off.
"I'm fine. Just a hiccup, I swear."
Tracks stood back up to his full height, not letting any sign of what he just felt on his face.
"As I was saying....any one of us could've won that match. That I can say without question. The fact that it was McGavin? Well....I sure ain't thrilled about that, I have to admit. But there's nothing that can be done about that now. Let that slimy bastard have his shortcut. Jack Tracks has a gas tank that never goes dry, and I'm in this for the long haul. I'll get my titles. I'll just have to do it the old-fashioned method. By running down anyone who tries to get in my way."
Coors takes the mic back to his mouth, as he starts to speak normally again. Tracks seems to have gotten some of the venom knocked out of him with the little flare-up, allowing the interviewer to catch a breath.
"Tonight you're put up against one of your opponents from Full Circle, one Vincent Sytre. And in a submission match. We all saw how well you perform in this kind of match not long ago, but with your injuries, can you compete at that same level tonight?"
With Tracks showing a bit more of his normal attitude once more, he curls his lips into a half-grin,and gives the question an amused scoff.
"Chuck....when have you known me not to always be able to compete at my best? A little bruise here and there isn't enough to stop me, especially once I really get goin'. When my engine's burning on all cylinders, there ain't nothin' that can slow me down. And I'm already good and fired up. And I'll tell you why..."
Tracks turns to the camera, his expression darkening once more. The shot shifts, zooming to Jack's face, leaving Coors out of the shot.
"Vincent...Vyrus....don't think I didn't catch on to what you two were up to at Full Circle. I've heard the murmurs. I know the word going around the locker room. I know you two had a secondary goal last night: Put ol' Jack Tracks out of commission. And I know exactly why."
Just on the outside of the shot, a motion in Jack Tracks' shoulder shows him raising it up,motioning his arm towards the camera. A light thud hits the mic, shaking the camera momentarily, as Tracks rests his hand on it, leaning closer in.
"Hey there,Jaggeroth. Still mad about the spanking I gave your boy in the cage a few weeks back? I can't blame ya. That could've been a real big break for him. And would've made your little band of misfits that much stronger. But I guess it just wasn't meant to be, was it, big man? So you tell your cronies to get payback. It was a good try, I admit. But I'm still standing. And tonight, I'm gonna make sure your inbred fuck of a lapdog Vincent won't be."
Jack pushes himself away, shaking the camera as his hand moves away from it. Missy and Flash follow behind, as Tracks walks away from the camera, his limp not as pronounced as it was on his way in. A few steps away, he stops, and turns to the shot once more. A grin is on his face, as he pats his friend Flash on the chest a couple times.
"Tell ya what. Why don't you send that nasty piece of crap Vyrus down there, too? My buddy here got all worked up during Full Circle, and told me how much he'd love to get his hands on any of your crew. We could make it a nice little get together. Your family and mine."
With a final pat on the chest, Tracks gestures for the group to keep on going. The pair of Jacks turn and head down the hall way, as Missy Sippy blows the camera a kiss, before running over between her boys.
"-n't give those fucks the satisfaction. I'm going out there tonight, and that's that!"
Tracks turns to look away from them, and finds Charlie Coors waiting in his way, microphone in hand. Jack knows exactly what that means, and stops, a look of mild irritation on his face.
"Hey there, Zima. Lemme guess...you got some questions for Jack Tracks about last night, don'cha?"
Coors looks a bit embarrassed, stammering his words some after being called out so blatantly.
"W-well yeah...I mean, it's m-"
"Just get to it. I gotta get ready to twist a motherfucker's head off tonight."
Tracks stares Coors down, a much more venom-filled look in his eyes than the audience is used to seeing. The stoner announcer/interviewer instinctively lowers his knees a bit, shrinking down under Jack Tracks' gaze.
"Uhh....of...of course. Well then...at Full Circle, you were in the Death From Above match. Y-You weren't able to get the Ticket, but from the murmurs in the locker room, it sounds like people are beginning to take more and more notice of you. How do you feel today?"
Jack's gaze went from pissy to...slightly dumbfounded. His eyebrow quirked, with a look that just screamed "are you kidding?"
"How do I feel? Did you see what went on in that match? How many times I was knocked off that ladder? How many times I crashed and burned into the cement? How those two fucks tried to completely collapse my respiratory system with the ladder? I'd say I don't feel my best right now. But I will say this..."
Tracks had to stop in mid-sentence, wincing in the middle of his speech. His body folds ever-so-slightly, and both of his companions reached out to him. See if he was okay. He turned back, brushing their hands off.
"I'm fine. Just a hiccup, I swear."
Tracks stood back up to his full height, not letting any sign of what he just felt on his face.
"As I was saying....any one of us could've won that match. That I can say without question. The fact that it was McGavin? Well....I sure ain't thrilled about that, I have to admit. But there's nothing that can be done about that now. Let that slimy bastard have his shortcut. Jack Tracks has a gas tank that never goes dry, and I'm in this for the long haul. I'll get my titles. I'll just have to do it the old-fashioned method. By running down anyone who tries to get in my way."
Coors takes the mic back to his mouth, as he starts to speak normally again. Tracks seems to have gotten some of the venom knocked out of him with the little flare-up, allowing the interviewer to catch a breath.
"Tonight you're put up against one of your opponents from Full Circle, one Vincent Sytre. And in a submission match. We all saw how well you perform in this kind of match not long ago, but with your injuries, can you compete at that same level tonight?"
With Tracks showing a bit more of his normal attitude once more, he curls his lips into a half-grin,and gives the question an amused scoff.
"Chuck....when have you known me not to always be able to compete at my best? A little bruise here and there isn't enough to stop me, especially once I really get goin'. When my engine's burning on all cylinders, there ain't nothin' that can slow me down. And I'm already good and fired up. And I'll tell you why..."
Tracks turns to the camera, his expression darkening once more. The shot shifts, zooming to Jack's face, leaving Coors out of the shot.
"Vincent...Vyrus....don't think I didn't catch on to what you two were up to at Full Circle. I've heard the murmurs. I know the word going around the locker room. I know you two had a secondary goal last night: Put ol' Jack Tracks out of commission. And I know exactly why."
Just on the outside of the shot, a motion in Jack Tracks' shoulder shows him raising it up,motioning his arm towards the camera. A light thud hits the mic, shaking the camera momentarily, as Tracks rests his hand on it, leaning closer in.
"Hey there,Jaggeroth. Still mad about the spanking I gave your boy in the cage a few weeks back? I can't blame ya. That could've been a real big break for him. And would've made your little band of misfits that much stronger. But I guess it just wasn't meant to be, was it, big man? So you tell your cronies to get payback. It was a good try, I admit. But I'm still standing. And tonight, I'm gonna make sure your inbred fuck of a lapdog Vincent won't be."
Jack pushes himself away, shaking the camera as his hand moves away from it. Missy and Flash follow behind, as Tracks walks away from the camera, his limp not as pronounced as it was on his way in. A few steps away, he stops, and turns to the shot once more. A grin is on his face, as he pats his friend Flash on the chest a couple times.
"Tell ya what. Why don't you send that nasty piece of crap Vyrus down there, too? My buddy here got all worked up during Full Circle, and told me how much he'd love to get his hands on any of your crew. We could make it a nice little get together. Your family and mine."
With a final pat on the chest, Tracks gestures for the group to keep on going. The pair of Jacks turn and head down the hall way, as Missy Sippy blows the camera a kiss, before running over between her boys.