Post by King on Mar 18, 2021 23:57:23 GMT
Ella shuffles some notes she has in front of her before speaking, "Again, it's Ella. It's not that hard. Let's play some word association, though. I'd like to list off a name, and in two or three sentences I'd like to hear your thoughts, Stephen. Your girlfriend is clearly confident in you, but I want to know how you feel."
Terrella rubs at his chin, growling, "Shit sounds like some kindergarten fucking game. I look five to you? I ain't doing that stupid shit."
"Okay, I can't force you," Ella states. "I'll just cut it here, and I'll tell Mr. Verona the two of you only wanted to answer half of my questions. You can sort it out with him if you get half of what you were promised monetarily, all of it, or none of it at all..."
Ella begins to stand.
"Who in the hell do you think you are," Portia shouts. This time it's Terrella playing the role of peacemaker, restraining Portia very gently. He puts a hand up flat in front of her, chest level, shaking it as if to gesture no.
Terrella turns his attention to Ella and says, "You want to fuck around with stupid kid games, go ahead. We're just here for the fucking check. Put that shit in your interview, too."
"I appreciate you agreeing to do it," Ella says, trying to maintain a degree of professionalism.
Ella begins, "First name: Ulf Hednir."
Terrella rubs his head, annoyed at this line of questions, but replies, "Legit fucking tough guy, but ain't gonna win. Ain't got enough vile in him. He talks all this shit about wanting a fight... well here it fucking is. Come get it."
Ella says, "Evan Albrecht."
Terrella's stare turns more cross, and he says with a bit more fire, "That motherfucker best hope he's gone by the time I get the fuck in there. I owe him. Next to winning the fucking match, nothing would make me fucking happier than crippling his smart-mouthed ass."
"Okay," Ella replies, a bit taken aback by his bluntness. "Ducky-"
Portia cuts her off, blurting out, "You can't be serious? That's a waste of my man's time."
Terrella nods.
"Maybe you'll find this one more worth answering then," Ella counters, following up with: "Dean. Harper."
Shaking his head, Terrella says, "He keeps telling us he's the fucking guy, right? Former Champ and shit, I get it. Lick all the skulls you fucking want, boy, don't fucking scare me."
"How about Jame Gilmore," Ella asks.
Terrella leans forward, saying, "That fucker ain't got killer in him. Good in the ring, sure. Former champ, sure. I'm different though. I'll hurt that motherfucker because I can. Maybe break his arm... wave that shit around for the camera all flappy so he can say hi to his students... collect that money if it's still for the taking before I toss his ass out."
"Locke then." Ella adds, "he impressed last year."
"Was I fucking here last year," Terrella fires back. "His best fucking bet would be to steer clear of me and keep on living on last year."
"How many fucking more of these you got? This shit is stupid, and it's pissing me off," Terrella grumbles.
Portia takes Terrella's hand in hers, telling him "You got this, baby."
Terrella squeezes her hand a bit.
Turning his attention to Ella, he says "All this fucking talking... What the fuck is the point? Didn't fucking come here to run my fucking gums the way everyone else does. They sit here and make their little fucking speeches or whine into the fucking camera. What the fuck is the point? You got guys like fucking Zion, two minutes here, all he does is run his fucking mouth... and run his fucking mouth more."
"You want the King to talk though, right? You think this shit is funny because I am here all uncomfortable and fucking shit, that about it?"
"No, I... I mean..." Ella stammers a bit, looking for the right wording.
"Cut the shit." Terrella shouts, angrier now. "Go down your little Roulette list... don't matter... I ain't going to sit here and heap praise on no-fucking-body. I'm an old school motherfucker in a lockerroom where I've only met one other old school motherfucker, and that's why he's the only guy I respect here."
"I talk when I got something to fucking say. Otherwise I just keep my mouth shut. I do my speaking in that fucking ring!"
"Roulette comes, I ain't got all the fucking answers. Shit maybe I might draw one, because it'd be a big kick in the fucking balls, and that's how it goes when you gamble sometimes. I'll just hurt person after motherfucking person, throwing motherfuckers out until I can't no more for whatever fucking reason. That's the fucking plan. I don't care what the fuck I got to do, who the fuck I got to hurt, or how low I have to fucking sink... I'll do it, and I'll sleep just fucking fine."
"I ain't thinking about fucking Warren Kane or anything fucking else after, so don't fucking ask me. This match... right now... it's everything... my focus..."
He turns to face Ella once more.
"That's all the fuck you need to know."
Terrella stands up, ripping the microphone off his chest and slinging it across the room. He can still be heard saying, "I'm fucking done. Fuck this." without the aid of the microphone. Portia stands up, attempting to calm him. She glances back at Ella, her eyes throwing daggers at the interviewer.
"Let's get the fuck out of here, babe." Terrella says, placing a hand on the small of Portia's back as the two make for the exit.
Terrella rubs at his chin, growling, "Shit sounds like some kindergarten fucking game. I look five to you? I ain't doing that stupid shit."
"Okay, I can't force you," Ella states. "I'll just cut it here, and I'll tell Mr. Verona the two of you only wanted to answer half of my questions. You can sort it out with him if you get half of what you were promised monetarily, all of it, or none of it at all..."
Ella begins to stand.
"Who in the hell do you think you are," Portia shouts. This time it's Terrella playing the role of peacemaker, restraining Portia very gently. He puts a hand up flat in front of her, chest level, shaking it as if to gesture no.
Terrella turns his attention to Ella and says, "You want to fuck around with stupid kid games, go ahead. We're just here for the fucking check. Put that shit in your interview, too."
"I appreciate you agreeing to do it," Ella says, trying to maintain a degree of professionalism.
Ella begins, "First name: Ulf Hednir."
Terrella rubs his head, annoyed at this line of questions, but replies, "Legit fucking tough guy, but ain't gonna win. Ain't got enough vile in him. He talks all this shit about wanting a fight... well here it fucking is. Come get it."
Ella says, "Evan Albrecht."
Terrella's stare turns more cross, and he says with a bit more fire, "That motherfucker best hope he's gone by the time I get the fuck in there. I owe him. Next to winning the fucking match, nothing would make me fucking happier than crippling his smart-mouthed ass."
"Okay," Ella replies, a bit taken aback by his bluntness. "Ducky-"
Portia cuts her off, blurting out, "You can't be serious? That's a waste of my man's time."
Terrella nods.
"Maybe you'll find this one more worth answering then," Ella counters, following up with: "Dean. Harper."
Shaking his head, Terrella says, "He keeps telling us he's the fucking guy, right? Former Champ and shit, I get it. Lick all the skulls you fucking want, boy, don't fucking scare me."
"How about Jame Gilmore," Ella asks.
Terrella leans forward, saying, "That fucker ain't got killer in him. Good in the ring, sure. Former champ, sure. I'm different though. I'll hurt that motherfucker because I can. Maybe break his arm... wave that shit around for the camera all flappy so he can say hi to his students... collect that money if it's still for the taking before I toss his ass out."
"Locke then." Ella adds, "he impressed last year."
"Was I fucking here last year," Terrella fires back. "His best fucking bet would be to steer clear of me and keep on living on last year."
"How many fucking more of these you got? This shit is stupid, and it's pissing me off," Terrella grumbles.
Portia takes Terrella's hand in hers, telling him "You got this, baby."
Terrella squeezes her hand a bit.
Turning his attention to Ella, he says "All this fucking talking... What the fuck is the point? Didn't fucking come here to run my fucking gums the way everyone else does. They sit here and make their little fucking speeches or whine into the fucking camera. What the fuck is the point? You got guys like fucking Zion, two minutes here, all he does is run his fucking mouth... and run his fucking mouth more."
"You want the King to talk though, right? You think this shit is funny because I am here all uncomfortable and fucking shit, that about it?"
"No, I... I mean..." Ella stammers a bit, looking for the right wording.
"Cut the shit." Terrella shouts, angrier now. "Go down your little Roulette list... don't matter... I ain't going to sit here and heap praise on no-fucking-body. I'm an old school motherfucker in a lockerroom where I've only met one other old school motherfucker, and that's why he's the only guy I respect here."
"I talk when I got something to fucking say. Otherwise I just keep my mouth shut. I do my speaking in that fucking ring!"
"Roulette comes, I ain't got all the fucking answers. Shit maybe I might draw one, because it'd be a big kick in the fucking balls, and that's how it goes when you gamble sometimes. I'll just hurt person after motherfucking person, throwing motherfuckers out until I can't no more for whatever fucking reason. That's the fucking plan. I don't care what the fuck I got to do, who the fuck I got to hurt, or how low I have to fucking sink... I'll do it, and I'll sleep just fucking fine."
"I ain't thinking about fucking Warren Kane or anything fucking else after, so don't fucking ask me. This match... right now... it's everything... my focus..."
He turns to face Ella once more.
"That's all the fuck you need to know."
Terrella stands up, ripping the microphone off his chest and slinging it across the room. He can still be heard saying, "I'm fucking done. Fuck this." without the aid of the microphone. Portia stands up, attempting to calm him. She glances back at Ella, her eyes throwing daggers at the interviewer.
"Let's get the fuck out of here, babe." Terrella says, placing a hand on the small of Portia's back as the two make for the exit.