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My first MCW promo(As George Massari, a new character)
Topic Started: Feb 20 2011, 11:20 PM (145 Views)
jimbiz
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B Show Wrestler
[ *  *  * ]
Note: I know it seems that the CD part of this promo is more focused then the actual shoot, but I just had to find a way to introduced my newest character and explain why he is the way he is.

Screen One: A call that you don’t want to hear

Here we are, at Chicago, Illinois where we see a tall Lebanese woman around the age of fifty relaxing at the family room of her apartment and watching her favourite soap opera show Passion. Well actually she’s not watching the show as we see her eyes barely open as she slouches on the Laz-E Boy couch. She wakes up because of the sound of her cell phone ringing and she reluctantly gets up from the couch and spots her mobile device on the table adjacent to her. The cell phone rings louder, so the woman quickly grabs the cell phone and clicks the answer button. She lets out a yawn and unenthusiastically replied, “Hello” and waits for the person on the other line to talk.

Woman: Yes this is Mrs. Massari.

Person on the other line starts talking, but we can’t hear him or her. However, the woman’s eyes start to open widely and her expression starts to change as she opens her mouth in a shocked manner. Obviously the person is telling her disturbing news.

Woman: WHAT? You’re kidding me right?

Another slight pause as the woman anxiously waits for the person to continue talking.

Woman: Okay, I’ll be there. Please give me five minutes. I’m on my way

The woman hangs up the phone and grabs her car key. She rushes out of the door as the screen fades to black.
…………..
Screen Two: Vigilante Justice?

The screen now opens at front of Mount Carmel High School, a private Roman Catholic high school at Chicago, Illinois where we see the same woman that we saw earlier getting out of her 1999 blue Ford Focus. She sets the alarm on before walking out of the car and greeting a chubby Caucasian male principal with a teenage boy wearing the school sweater and khaki pants. Looking closely, we see some blood splatter across the midsection of the sweater of the boy. Then we look at the boy’s face and we see a cut above his eyebrows and his cheek bruised. His knuckles are bloodied too. The boy’s kid’s eyes are stoic, but we get a sense that he’s proud of his wounds. Taking another closer look, the teenager boy is Lebanese, just like the woman, and it looks like he’s related to her. The woman looks concern at the boy before looking back at the principal.

[Color-blue] Principal: Are you Mrs. Massari? [/Color]

Mrs. Massari: Yes and what exactly happen to him?

Principal: Well according to a supervising teacher, your son George got in a fight with his classmate during Lunch time. The fight got deadly as the boy broke his nose and well, you can see the aftermath of the fight by just looking at your son

Mrs. Massari covers her mouth, almost on a verge of crying as we see her eyes starting too reddened, hearing the summary of the fight. She looks at her son again but the son doesn’t look back. In fact, the son is just staring straight at the ground as if he’s in his own world and nothing can bother him.

Mrs. Massari: George! I didn’t raise you to be a violent person. Explain yourself!

George opened his mouth, but words are not coming out. Instead, he gives his mother the silent treatment. Right now, the teenage boy just wants to go home.

Principal: Anyway, you’re lucky that the person that he got in a fight with didn’t press charges on him or else he would have been in a jail. However, this is a rule in this school that every student has to follow. We’re a catholic high school that has a reputation to keep. We don’t tolerate violence because it’s against our beliefs and unfortunately your son has brought violence to our school. I’m sorry to tell you, but your son has been suspended for a month.

Mrs. Massari: A month?!?

Principal: Yeah, like I said, this school has a reputation to honour and we’re very strict here. We don’t condone violence and anyone who promotes violence will suffer a serious consequences. Now excuse me, I have to go to attend a board meeting

The principal leaves the two Lebanese as he renters the school doors. The winter air breezes make its presence as it blows on the mother and son’s faces. The mother doesn’t say a word as she leads her son to their car. Once they enter the car, the mother looks at her son and opens her mouth to speak, breaking the brief silent treatment. Instead of starting the car, she just sits on the driver seat and looks at her beloved son’s face, analyzing his wounds and his expression.

Mrs. Massari: George, what were you thinking? Getting to a fight?

George: Well the dude deserved it.

Mrs. Massari: What do you mean that he deserves it?

George: He was making fun of me…no scratch that. HE WAS MAKING FUN OF US! That fucker got what’s coming.

Mrs. Massari: HEY! What did I tell you about swearing? And making fun of us? What are you talking about?

The mom, who hasn’t stopped looking at her son, raises her eyebrows. For the first time, George’s emotions are showing as he starts to shake angrily. Whatever is troubling him seems to drive George to the edge to the point that he resorted to violence.

George: He made fun of our heritage! He called us a terrorist! That stupid white boy talked shit about how we’re lesser than him and how we should go back to “where we came from.” Ever since I went to that so –called Catholic school, people there has been treating me as shit and to be honest, I can’t take this shit anymore. So I gave him a piece of my mind and my fist. Next time, these fuckers won’t mess with me.

Mrs. Massari: Violence won’t solve the problem. What did I tell you about bullies? Tell the teachers and let them handle the situation.

George just shakes his head, ignoring the advice from his mother.

George: The teachers here are useless. In fact, I’m beginning to think that they enjoyed the verbal beating I endured in school. You can never trust these hypocrite Christians. They too act like they’re better than us and I can’t stand that. Mom, it’s for us to stand up for ourselves. I’m tired of being a victim or a pushover. I’m tired of being looked as a fucking pussy as people just keep spewing bullshit and racial comments on me. And Dammit mom, shouldn’t you be too?

Mrs. Massari bites her lips, caught off guard by George’s comment. He’s right…in a way and she hates to admit it. She too was tired of the racial comments she receive at work just because of her background and her religious beliefs. She too was frustrated at the treatments she gets ever since she and her family step foot at America. But violence? Is it really the answer? It’s bad enough that the reason she getting this sort of treatment is because the bad reputation her people get since 9/11 happened and acting violently will just prove racist Americans right. Then again, she and her family just can’t let it slide. The comments has hurt the Massari’s family emotionally and mentally to the point Mr. Massari lost his job because someone alerted the manager that he was planning a bomb at the work place…which was not true. Things were getting bad and something needs to change. But once again…violence? Mrs. Massari shakes her head and gets rid of the thought of violence before looking back at her son angrily.

Mrs. Massari: And where did that take you? A SUSPENSION! Just wait until your dad comes home from his brother’s house. He’s going to be very disappointed.

George: NO! If anything, he will be proud of me! I’m standing up for my rights and I don’t give a damn what anybody says.

George starts to tremble again and looks at his fist in admiration. In his own world, he’s right. Revenge is the only way to justify violent actions and if he wants to prove a point, he has to resort to it. The screen fades to black after Mrs. Massari sighs

Leave the memories alone.
…..

Ten years later, we see a much older George Massari staring straight at himself at the club bathroom. We can the techno music sound bouncing off the wall, but it doesn’t faze George. It’s almost like he’s hypnotized by his own reflections. He thought about how about his teenage life and the struggle he went through trying to survive high school and terrorist comments directed at him. He thought of that faithful day where he got in his first fight against this snobby white kid who has been talking shit about him since he arrived at school. He thought of his fist pounding on the chubby face of the white kid each seconds as the teachers tried to pull him off the kid. He thought of the lectures his mom and dad gave him about how violence is not the answer to solve racial problems. He remembers everything that went down on that day as if it was yesterday. George just shakes his head. No, tonight is not the night to remember about the bad memories. Tonight is the night for partying and celebrating his last day at Chicago before leaving to Detroit to pursue his dreams. The news that he is now in the MCW roster and he’s going to wrestle in his first match at the MCW Deliverance PPV hit him hard. Sure, this is what he wanted, but leaving Chicago forever is hard for him. Chicago is like a second home to him and despite all of the shit he went through at high school before he became a sports fanatic and Mr. Popularity, he still remembered the good times. All of the anger he had towards America was quickly replaced by the love he felt at Chicago and now he has leave. George couldn’t help but smile walking away from the bathroom mirror. He walks out of the bathroom. Bobbing his head to the song, “Hello” by Dragonette that is now being played, he makes his way to outside. Once he’s outside, he waves hello to a few people that recognize him before heading towards his Mercedes Benz. He opens his door and sat on the driver seat. For the first time, he acknowledges the camera and takes a deep breath before speaking for his first ever wrestling shoot.

George: The memories we humans keep are so dear to us no matter what it is. I remember when I first came to America that I was an angst teenager boy. Yes, I was at the age where rebelling is the key for development and I didn’t really give a damn about what other people thought of me. I was so angry at the world especially America because the tough obstacles that I went through in life and the question is, can you blame me? I remember my first fight against the white kid that was attacking me verbally. Kid realized that my fist is like a fucking weapon and he shouldn’t mess with the Arabian Ace. Ah man, you peeps should have been there at the fight. Oh man, the look at that kid’s face was priceless after I beat the shit out of him. And you know what the funny parts…he’s two times bigger than me. Kid thought he was bigger and tougher than me, but he guessed wrong.


Hmm, maybe that was when I found out about my strength. After all, that day, my dad suggested that I should try amateur wrestling. Anyway, I used my anger to feud me to be an unstoppable sports machine or the “Arabian Ace.” I tried so hard to gain respect from my peers and I fucking aced it. Just like how I’m going to ace my first wrestling tests.


George stops his speech and slaps his head, as if he forgot something.


George: Dammit, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is George Massari and I’m your new MCW superstar. I was born and raised at Beirut, Lebanon. For those who don’t know. Beirut is a city in Lebanon that went through an amazing transformation and reconstruction after the Lebanon Civil War and it is actually one of the top places to live according to New York Times. True story bro. I lived in a rich city with beautiful resources, but my mom insisted that our family move to America for better education and job. So we moved when I was fifteen to Chicago and my God, what an experience! I have dealt with so many racial shit that my mind was about to explode. But don’t worry, I survived and prove the haters wrong.

Fast forward ten years later and I’m still standing. In fact, I’m enjoying life. I’m starting to like everything about the American lifestyle. Even though the Healthcare sucks, it’s way better than the healthcare back home. And the government is at least fair to us unlike back home…fuck I do not want to start rambling on about Politics. Anyway, I like the American’s food. Well, not better than our food, but eh. I like the weather…wait, actually I don’t. No offense, but the weather here sucks. Back home, even it was winter, there was rarely snow unlike freaking Chicago where it is snowing every damn time and always freaking cold. Ugh, I wasted lot of money just for buying winter clothes. Lastly, I like the American women.



Just as he says that, he watches two hot Spanish girls walking past him. His eyes fixed at their ass, distracting him from his shoot. He licks his lips and makes a mental note that once he is done with this promo, he will approach them at the club and hopefully get their numbers. He notices that one of the girls winked at him as she flaunts her goodies toward him before heading to the club doors. George regains his focus and looks at the camera again.

George: Damn bro. These girls look like they’re DTF. Yes, I’m using Jersey Shore slang. Did I mention that American shows? I found them hilariously bad. Like a train wreck, you know it’s bad but you can’t stop watching it. In conclusion, I love almost everything about America and I don’t want to sound like an ungrateful foreign brat because I’m not. You know what I’m sayin’? I want to force people to rethink about their conception and stereotypical thoughts that all Middle Eastern peeps like me are terrorists because it is not true. The only weapons that I have are my body and Zombie Mr. Perfect 3000 is going to realized that.


George once again slaps himself.


Dammit, I forgot about to talk about my match against ZMP3000! That was the point of the whole damn shoot! What can I say about him other than he’s pathetic? I’m pretty sure that he hears that all the time, but it doesn’t stop him from continuing wrestling. No matter how many times people call him pathetic; he still continues to perform for the MCW fans. I hate to admit it, but I kind of admire the guy. He does have heart. Wait, do dead people who are part of a robot has heart? Wait, do zombie robots exist? The question is NO! Bitch, stop pretending to be a robot asshole. And stop pretending to be Mr. Perfect too. Mr. Perfect is dead! I hate to say it, but it’s true. He’s six feet under the ground and he’s never coming back. Is he in hell or heaven now? I don’t know. I do know you’re not Mr. Perfect and I’m pretty sure Joe Hennig …ops I mean Michael McGulliculty and his family won’t appreciate you making a mockery of his daddy. Does your life suck that much that you decided to pretend that you’re a zombie robot version of Mr. Perfect? Damn and I thought my teenage years sucked. You’re pathetic my man. But like I said, ZMP3000 always pull out a performance and wins despite the odds. Hell, he was even a MCW Television Champion. How the hell did that happen, I have no idea. But congratz ZMC3000. You managed to work a pathetic gimmick and pretended to be a dead wrestler in order to successfully gain some recognition. As for me, I just need to be myself and that is being the “Arabian Ace.” With me, there is no telling what I can do and what I’m capable of. You just have to witness it for yourself. It’s time for you to be extinct old man.

Suddenly George chuckles for no reason before looking down at his Chuck. He opens his mouth to speak.

George: It’s funny. Ten years ago, that same white kid that I beat the shit out of told me that I would do the Americans a favour if I left America forever. Now, I’m going to the Americans a favour by forcing ZMP3000 to leave MCW FOREVER! Hell, read the match description. After this match, ZMP3000‘s career can be consider dead as he hits rock bottom. Old man, you will feel the anger that I’ve stored inside of me and you will wish that I was a suicide bomber. Because after Deliverance, you’re good as dead!

George takes his Armani glasses that was on the passenger seat and puts it o as the screen fades to black.
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