Post by TheLostBoys on May 14, 2017 9:38:10 GMT
"What the fuck is this bullsh-"
"Sam, would you keep it down!"
Sam Braxton's very sudden and very loud outburst drew more than a little ire towards the Lost Boys as they sat in the restaurant section of the Radisson Hotel in Cincinnati, Ohio. Dean and Sam were at their table going over the card for the up and coming IWF show. Needless to say Sam was none too impressed with being forced to tag with a partner who was not Dean Coulter. The extra salt in the wound was the fact his tag partner was Will Fennel of the Renegades.
"Keep it down? Do you see this?!"
"I'm standing right beside you so, yes, I can see it quite clearly, and keep this up and soon the entire hotel is going to HEAR all about it."
Sam looked to persist his blustering but the suspicious glances from the Hotel staff implied security or worse, the police, would not be far behind, so he briefly contained himself until the two were safely away from the Hotel and amidst the streets of Cincinnati at night.
"But how can we let them get away with this? You can't separate us! It's unheard of! And if they think I am going to get into that ring without you in my corner. Well then they've got another thing coming."
"Sam..."
"To think they expect me to tag with THAT joke. Well I refuse! I will not set a single foot into that ring. Not unless they sort this crap out!"
"C'mon Sam, stop that nonsense. Put your pride and sizable ego on the bench for a second. If you don't compete you'll be playing right into their hands. They want us to fail. You have to take this one for the team, grit your teeth and bear it and show them San Braxton isn't one to mess around. Regardless of who he's tagging with."
"But-but, it's one of the Renegades! I thought we were done with them!"
"I know, I know. But pause for a moment and think about what Malo was saying. This isn't about you, or us, or the Renegades, or any other team on the roster. This is about pushing the entire Tag-Team Division into the spotlight. To make it mean something. It may it seem it but this could actually work well into our favour."
Dean's calm and logical demeanor seemed impossible to break and eventually Sam's agitated exuberance died out.
"...If you say so. Doesn't mean I have to be happy about it..."
"By all means, get angry and use it in the match."
"And what are you going to do without me watching out for you? Probably die of boredom."
"As strange as this may sound Sam I am perfectly capable of amusing myself. God knows I could do with a bit of the uneventful for a change."
"You going to call Lisa back?"
Dean paused.
"Yeah....I should probably get on that."
From the lack of conviction in the response Sam was fairly certain Dean wasn't about to return any of the calls any time soon. Lisa had been calling fairly regularly the last few days and Dean always found some excuse to avoid taking the call or not answering. It was another of his odd new behaviors that Sam noticed. He just wasn't sure how best to approach the situation. But if there was anyone who call pull through a personal crisis it was the confident and demure Dean Coulter. Because if he faltered then what hope did Sam have?
"Alright. Well I'll catch you later."
"Wait. Dean, where you going?"
"To take full advantage of my time off."
"And what about me?"
"What you want me to hold your hand? YOU'VE got a promo to sort out....Enjoy!"
With a dismissive wave Dean disappeared into a crowd, leaving Sam Braxton standing by the side of the road, stunned and confused.
He hadn't done a solo promo in a very, VERY long time.
"...Shit."
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The camera comes into focus on Sam Braxton, a solitary figure seated on a generic armchair in the centre of a sound studio. A spot-light shone down upon one half of the Lost Boys who lent forward in the chair with his hands clasped together in front of his face, as if deep in thought.
"Alright, let's get this done. I'm going to keep it short, sweet and simple, because frankly I have no desire to do this. You think you can tear the Lost Boys apart and I'm going to give a shit? Consider yourself lucky I'm even doing this much! Sufficed to say the powers-at-be have sufficiently pissed me off. Now obviously I can't get my hands on them so unlucky for Gillmen, Fennell and Malo this means my sights are set firmly on you guys."
""But Sam, Will Fennel is your partner, surely you won't be going after him?!" I can hear you ask. And the answer is simple. None of those previously named competitors are Dean Coulter, and therefore I consider all of them my enemy. A target seconds away from having their arse kicked in such a profound and comprehensive manner. I don't know what the fuck is going on with the tag-team division that they had to go a pull an inconceivable stunt like this, and at the end of the day I don't care, because all I see is a conspiracy. A conspiracy to embarrass Dean and I, to separate us and try to hold us back, keep us from ever reaching prominence. Well come Monday night when I leave those three other men knocked out on the canvas, punishment for your grievous mishandling of the show booking, I'll ask you how well that worked out for you."
"I could try and see the silver lining in this situation, just like the sanctimonious Malo has. A golden opportunity to elevate the otherwise underappreciated and underestimated tag teams of the IWF roster. Now Dean would probably espouse the talent of achievements of Malo and Gillmen. But we've already spoken about Malo enough, so let's not play that brokne record. And I'm sure Gillmen, or whatever he's calling himself now, is a fine competitor. But I am not Dean. And we should all know me well enough by now to know that, that really isn't my style. So Gillmen, sorry mate but your nothing to me. The second someone tried to mess with the Lost Boys this was made personal. "But Sam, that's not fair on the other guys!" Do I look like I give a damn about fair? Monday night isn't about any other team. Or about any of the other competitors. No. This match is going to be all about me Sam Braxton!
"And Will Fennell. We put you and your brother behind us already so if you know what is best for you you will just stay on the apron and let me do my thing...Now turn that shit off!"
The footage cut very suddenly to black.
"Sam, would you keep it down!"
Sam Braxton's very sudden and very loud outburst drew more than a little ire towards the Lost Boys as they sat in the restaurant section of the Radisson Hotel in Cincinnati, Ohio. Dean and Sam were at their table going over the card for the up and coming IWF show. Needless to say Sam was none too impressed with being forced to tag with a partner who was not Dean Coulter. The extra salt in the wound was the fact his tag partner was Will Fennel of the Renegades.
"Keep it down? Do you see this?!"
"I'm standing right beside you so, yes, I can see it quite clearly, and keep this up and soon the entire hotel is going to HEAR all about it."
Sam looked to persist his blustering but the suspicious glances from the Hotel staff implied security or worse, the police, would not be far behind, so he briefly contained himself until the two were safely away from the Hotel and amidst the streets of Cincinnati at night.
"But how can we let them get away with this? You can't separate us! It's unheard of! And if they think I am going to get into that ring without you in my corner. Well then they've got another thing coming."
"Sam..."
"To think they expect me to tag with THAT joke. Well I refuse! I will not set a single foot into that ring. Not unless they sort this crap out!"
"C'mon Sam, stop that nonsense. Put your pride and sizable ego on the bench for a second. If you don't compete you'll be playing right into their hands. They want us to fail. You have to take this one for the team, grit your teeth and bear it and show them San Braxton isn't one to mess around. Regardless of who he's tagging with."
"But-but, it's one of the Renegades! I thought we were done with them!"
"I know, I know. But pause for a moment and think about what Malo was saying. This isn't about you, or us, or the Renegades, or any other team on the roster. This is about pushing the entire Tag-Team Division into the spotlight. To make it mean something. It may it seem it but this could actually work well into our favour."
Dean's calm and logical demeanor seemed impossible to break and eventually Sam's agitated exuberance died out.
"...If you say so. Doesn't mean I have to be happy about it..."
"By all means, get angry and use it in the match."
"And what are you going to do without me watching out for you? Probably die of boredom."
"As strange as this may sound Sam I am perfectly capable of amusing myself. God knows I could do with a bit of the uneventful for a change."
"You going to call Lisa back?"
Dean paused.
"Yeah....I should probably get on that."
From the lack of conviction in the response Sam was fairly certain Dean wasn't about to return any of the calls any time soon. Lisa had been calling fairly regularly the last few days and Dean always found some excuse to avoid taking the call or not answering. It was another of his odd new behaviors that Sam noticed. He just wasn't sure how best to approach the situation. But if there was anyone who call pull through a personal crisis it was the confident and demure Dean Coulter. Because if he faltered then what hope did Sam have?
"Alright. Well I'll catch you later."
"Wait. Dean, where you going?"
"To take full advantage of my time off."
"And what about me?"
"What you want me to hold your hand? YOU'VE got a promo to sort out....Enjoy!"
With a dismissive wave Dean disappeared into a crowd, leaving Sam Braxton standing by the side of the road, stunned and confused.
He hadn't done a solo promo in a very, VERY long time.
"...Shit."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The camera comes into focus on Sam Braxton, a solitary figure seated on a generic armchair in the centre of a sound studio. A spot-light shone down upon one half of the Lost Boys who lent forward in the chair with his hands clasped together in front of his face, as if deep in thought.
"Alright, let's get this done. I'm going to keep it short, sweet and simple, because frankly I have no desire to do this. You think you can tear the Lost Boys apart and I'm going to give a shit? Consider yourself lucky I'm even doing this much! Sufficed to say the powers-at-be have sufficiently pissed me off. Now obviously I can't get my hands on them so unlucky for Gillmen, Fennell and Malo this means my sights are set firmly on you guys."
""But Sam, Will Fennel is your partner, surely you won't be going after him?!" I can hear you ask. And the answer is simple. None of those previously named competitors are Dean Coulter, and therefore I consider all of them my enemy. A target seconds away from having their arse kicked in such a profound and comprehensive manner. I don't know what the fuck is going on with the tag-team division that they had to go a pull an inconceivable stunt like this, and at the end of the day I don't care, because all I see is a conspiracy. A conspiracy to embarrass Dean and I, to separate us and try to hold us back, keep us from ever reaching prominence. Well come Monday night when I leave those three other men knocked out on the canvas, punishment for your grievous mishandling of the show booking, I'll ask you how well that worked out for you."
"I could try and see the silver lining in this situation, just like the sanctimonious Malo has. A golden opportunity to elevate the otherwise underappreciated and underestimated tag teams of the IWF roster. Now Dean would probably espouse the talent of achievements of Malo and Gillmen. But we've already spoken about Malo enough, so let's not play that brokne record. And I'm sure Gillmen, or whatever he's calling himself now, is a fine competitor. But I am not Dean. And we should all know me well enough by now to know that, that really isn't my style. So Gillmen, sorry mate but your nothing to me. The second someone tried to mess with the Lost Boys this was made personal. "But Sam, that's not fair on the other guys!" Do I look like I give a damn about fair? Monday night isn't about any other team. Or about any of the other competitors. No. This match is going to be all about me Sam Braxton!
"And Will Fennell. We put you and your brother behind us already so if you know what is best for you you will just stay on the apron and let me do my thing...Now turn that shit off!"
The footage cut very suddenly to black.
Well howdy there pardner.