Post by Jack Tracks on Nov 15, 2011 5:39:49 GMT -5
The early morning sun shines in through the camera, the opening shot aiming right at the still-brightening sky, just enough of night left to add a bit of mystique to the moment. The shot starts to pan down, the dark blue sky gradually lightening even as one looks at it. As it pans down all the way, it would seem the shot was in a long field. And in the center, closest to the camera, a red sports car sits, shiny as the day it was made. And right on top, sitting in his jeans, a Queen t-Shirt and his sponsor-covered racing jacket (open of course), was Jack Tracks, one leg outstretched, the other tucked underneath. He let his hair fall where it would, looking a bit fussed up, compared to how he shows up at the arena. Leaning back with one hand on the hood, his other swirled a can. Probably a beer. The camera slowly moves in, as Jack gives it a sideways glance.
"Oh hey. You made it. Surprised you were able to find me this far out from anywhere."
Jack brings the can up to his lips, taking a swig. In mid-sip, he stops, looking at the camera. Pulling the can away, Tracks smirks, pointing to it.
"Oh this? I wouldn't worry. It takes more than a couple of these to get to me."
He resumes his sip, finishing it off, then rests his arm down again.
"There are two places in this world that Jack Tracks really feels at home. One of them, as I'm sure you all know, is out on the road. A long stretch of highway, not a single building in sight. Slamming my foot down and just letting the sensation of speed wash over me. It's a rush, man."
Tracks looks out past the camera, his lips curled into a smile that could almost be described as nostalgic.
"Probably would explain why I like Germany so much. Gotta love the Autobahn."
Tracks is quiet for a moment, nodding silently. But it doesn't last too long, as his expression hardens again.
"The other...well, there's no question where that is. Right in the middle of the ring, in front of thousands of screaming fans. Running all out, placing my foot in someone's face. Twisting them in places a chiropractor would have dollar signs in his eyes at seeing. Driving those skulls into the mat at speeds and angles the human neck wasn't built to absorb. Now that's a serious rush."
Tracks nods, his grin returned, but looking a bit more sinister. More bloodthirsty. His head bobs twice, before stopping. His smile melts away once more, a sigh momentarily escaping his lips.
"But lately, I've found myself losing focus in there. My mind has just been in too many places at once. Worrying about too many things. One week it's the TV Title. The next week it's Death From Above. Another week it's killer clowns. Another week it's crazy nationalists. It's enough to send a guy every which way at once. I've let myself get too caught up in it all. And I needed to get myself straight. That's why I came out here. Get myself some space. Some time to think. Bring that other rush out. Rejuvenate. And it worked."
Tracks places the can on the hood, as he rises from his seated position, standing on the hood. Tracks brings one foot up to rest on the roof of the car, turning himself half-away from the camera. He tilts his head up, letting the wind catch his long hair, as he points out to the horizon behind him.
"I can see exactly where I was supposed to be going all along. The destination I should have been going from day 1. The Finish Line. The GHW World Championship."
Jack turns himself to face the camera once again, his finger aiming right at the viewer, his gaze steeled, his eyes locking dead-center into the screen.
"I've been saying I'm on the fast lane to the top. And I wasn't kidding. But it's a road full of twists, turns, pot holes, and spike strips facing the wrong god-damn direction. But it's the road I've chosen. And I'm gonna speed my way down that highway, and cross that line. Dominik Santiago. Ryan Hughes. Jaggeroth. Even Hayden fucking Hardcore himself. I don't care who's standing at the end of that line when I get there. I'll run anyone I need to down to come in first."
Tracks takes a step forward, before hopping off the hood, standing next to his car. Jack leans over to the hood, swiping his can off the car, and tosses it to the camera man. Reaching his hand down once its empty, he opens the door, placing one leg in, getting ready to enter.
"You people just make sure you keep your eyes right here. I ain't gonna slow down for even a second. Not anymore."
Tracks ducks in, closing the door behind him. He starts the car up, the roar of the engine so loud that the microphone sounds like it's ready to crackle and explode. He revs it a few times, and sticks his head out the window, pointing one last time to the camera.
"See you at the races!"
He ducks back in, and the gorgeous red vehicle peels out, gone in a flash, leaving nothing but dust in its wake, as the camera pans its way back up to the sun, now having found its way through the night completely, turning the entire morning sky a bright, glorious blue.
"Oh hey. You made it. Surprised you were able to find me this far out from anywhere."
Jack brings the can up to his lips, taking a swig. In mid-sip, he stops, looking at the camera. Pulling the can away, Tracks smirks, pointing to it.
"Oh this? I wouldn't worry. It takes more than a couple of these to get to me."
He resumes his sip, finishing it off, then rests his arm down again.
"There are two places in this world that Jack Tracks really feels at home. One of them, as I'm sure you all know, is out on the road. A long stretch of highway, not a single building in sight. Slamming my foot down and just letting the sensation of speed wash over me. It's a rush, man."
Tracks looks out past the camera, his lips curled into a smile that could almost be described as nostalgic.
"Probably would explain why I like Germany so much. Gotta love the Autobahn."
Tracks is quiet for a moment, nodding silently. But it doesn't last too long, as his expression hardens again.
"The other...well, there's no question where that is. Right in the middle of the ring, in front of thousands of screaming fans. Running all out, placing my foot in someone's face. Twisting them in places a chiropractor would have dollar signs in his eyes at seeing. Driving those skulls into the mat at speeds and angles the human neck wasn't built to absorb. Now that's a serious rush."
Tracks nods, his grin returned, but looking a bit more sinister. More bloodthirsty. His head bobs twice, before stopping. His smile melts away once more, a sigh momentarily escaping his lips.
"But lately, I've found myself losing focus in there. My mind has just been in too many places at once. Worrying about too many things. One week it's the TV Title. The next week it's Death From Above. Another week it's killer clowns. Another week it's crazy nationalists. It's enough to send a guy every which way at once. I've let myself get too caught up in it all. And I needed to get myself straight. That's why I came out here. Get myself some space. Some time to think. Bring that other rush out. Rejuvenate. And it worked."
Tracks places the can on the hood, as he rises from his seated position, standing on the hood. Tracks brings one foot up to rest on the roof of the car, turning himself half-away from the camera. He tilts his head up, letting the wind catch his long hair, as he points out to the horizon behind him.
"I can see exactly where I was supposed to be going all along. The destination I should have been going from day 1. The Finish Line. The GHW World Championship."
Jack turns himself to face the camera once again, his finger aiming right at the viewer, his gaze steeled, his eyes locking dead-center into the screen.
"I've been saying I'm on the fast lane to the top. And I wasn't kidding. But it's a road full of twists, turns, pot holes, and spike strips facing the wrong god-damn direction. But it's the road I've chosen. And I'm gonna speed my way down that highway, and cross that line. Dominik Santiago. Ryan Hughes. Jaggeroth. Even Hayden fucking Hardcore himself. I don't care who's standing at the end of that line when I get there. I'll run anyone I need to down to come in first."
Tracks takes a step forward, before hopping off the hood, standing next to his car. Jack leans over to the hood, swiping his can off the car, and tosses it to the camera man. Reaching his hand down once its empty, he opens the door, placing one leg in, getting ready to enter.
"You people just make sure you keep your eyes right here. I ain't gonna slow down for even a second. Not anymore."
Tracks ducks in, closing the door behind him. He starts the car up, the roar of the engine so loud that the microphone sounds like it's ready to crackle and explode. He revs it a few times, and sticks his head out the window, pointing one last time to the camera.
"See you at the races!"
He ducks back in, and the gorgeous red vehicle peels out, gone in a flash, leaving nothing but dust in its wake, as the camera pans its way back up to the sun, now having found its way through the night completely, turning the entire morning sky a bright, glorious blue.
