Watchin' from the back. (O2A)

[sinclair]

The Hallway.

Dalton walked through the hallway, wearing his "Die, bitch." t-shirt and plain blue jeans. The hallway that was the current home for all of the APW roster. However, he doesn't have a suitcase. Instead, he's empty handed. Many of the staff look at him with the "who's that?" expression. Obviously they couldn't remember him.. and his one match. Nonetheless, he continues on.

He makes his way to the behind stage area, where the rest of the men and women made their entrances. He smiles, and heads towards it. All the equiptment was still shiney from purchase. As Dalton continues into the area, he runs his finger along one of the speakers. This.. This sucked. He looks over at the black curtain dangling from a structure over his head, and wonders wether or not to make his presence known, but decides against it.. His eyes, however, dart away from the curtain as he hears the pitter-patter of footsteps approaching him...

[unknown]

They bumps shoulders and Roy laughes as he notices someone who he doesn't see as a threat. He covers his stomach and then looks away and back on the man as he doesn't know.
Yo, you looking for someone pal? You ain't looking for Roy boy. You don't want that ass-kicking by me.[/i][/color]

[sinclair]

Roy Boy? Dude, you're full of yourself, and even worse, half the shit you say is fake. You're the guy that's tagging it up with major queer Austin Harris, right? Pathetic. Truely pathetic. I should wack the taste out of your mouth right now for even going near him. I should wack the taste out of your mouth for using that attitude anywhere near me.

"Who in god's name calls themself "Roy Boy"? Sounds like something Prince would say," goes through his mind. Dalton removes his hand from the speaker to take a step closer to Trigga.

Am I looking for someone? No. Are you looking for someone is the real question?... Nah, don't answer that. I know you are. You're looking for competition. And this week?.. You won't get that from me.

[unknown]

Of course, i couldn't get that from you. I would have to go find it some place else! Anyways, you going after my Homie Austin like that isn't cool. Other then that, you look like a true loner yourself. Walking around in the back. I just got here and got people lineing up to go agianst me boy.

I wish you would put your hands on me, it would only give me another reason to beat yo ass!

[jack]

A loud cough echos down the hall. Both men turn to the direction where the sound was coming from. Jack stands there looking at both of them.

" What is happening down here? "

Jack looks at Roy. But he decides not to mess with him. Jack starts to turn his head to the other man standing there. He remembers this man, from his first day here.

" You again. I remember you from the tower. But why are you here? Unless you are wrestling. You got to be serious. Why did the Angles let you join. "

Jack turns his head back to Roy.

" And who is this, you bum buddy? "

Jack waits for an answer.

[sinclair]

Yeah, I remember you. You're the 'roid pumper...

Dalton's attention changes back to Trigga, who was obviously more important than Jack, in his eyes anyways.

I said this week, you dumb ass. I left APW for a bit on a.. personal reason. I'd talk to you 'bout it, but as I can already see, everything I say goes in one ear and out the other. Fuck, I wonder if when you're suckin' Harris if it's the same way, in one way and out the other. You guys keep fuelin' eachother?

Then the "why did the angels let you join?" comment hit Dalton. It seemed like they were double teaming on him, but he could fend for himself..

Dude, how the hell did you get past the drug test? How the hell did you finish up your wrestling training? How the hell did you get past HIGHSCHOOL!? Who knows? And honestly, who cares? No one likes you, Jack, deal with it.

[jack]

" Hey don't be Jealous Mate. You know you wish you have a perfect body like mine. Let me answer some of thos questions for you Dalton. "

Roy starts to open his mouth. Jack quickly covers his mouth.

" Hey hold on, im talking to the peice of shit, that calls him self a wrestler. "

Jack turns back to Dalton.

" Now listen to me. Unlike you l have my home country support me. Unlike you, l am called a wrestler. But now Dalton you got something to deal with. And it not your everday situation. You should be lucky that l am going to challenge you for my debu match here in the APW. Not many people get to do that. "

Jack moves his hand away from Roy's mouth.

" Now you may speak. "

[sinclair]

Kay.

Dalton decided to take a bit of a slower approach at explaining the situation to Jack.

Me Dalton Sinclair. Me from Toronto, Ontario, Canada. You retarded. Me leave APW for bit. Me find me old girlfriend. Me did find her. Me happy. You come along. You try to be cool. You make ass of yourself. End of story.

There, I explained it to you fully. Hopefully now you won't stick around. Fine, I accept your challenge. Just remember that when I beat you, you're perfect body'll be worth nothing.

[jack]

Jack shakes his head at Dalton.

" That was just pretty pathetic shit coming out of you mouth just then Dalton. Quite sad. But l bet it happen all the time with you, because you have shit for brains. Just try to bring you best to the ring. "

Jack started walk off, down the hall. Leaving Roy and Dalton.

[unknown]

Roy shakes his head and leaves as well

Amatuers [/size][/color]

[hitzane]

~Emerging from shadows isn't exactly his style but what does he do? Exactly that. The whole situation seemed pointless to Jared so why get involved? He poked enough fun and at the roid-monkey-jocks in highschool so why waste his time on it again. All they do is say that you have "shit for brains" and walk away...as did the one in this current happening. Dalton also seemed to be handling himself...but at this time Jared only knows Dalton as "guy with kick ass T-Shirt". He walks towards Dalton and watches as your generic bad ass gangster walks off.~[/i]

Well that is what I would refer to as pathetic...on their part at least. You seemed to hold your own quite formidably though. It becomes difficult, I know, when you have to drop your IQ and vocab to the level of fucktards such as them. But then again wheres the fun in owning them when they don't understand.

~Jared shoots his hand out to Dalton, offering the cliche handshake.~[/i]

Jared Hitzane.

[sinclair]

Wow..

Dalton's facial expression changes to unsure as Jared approaches him.

Someone that seems somewhat normal? But hey, I need to know, what's the catch? No offense, but I can't walk around these parts without being harassed by retards..

[hitzane]

Catch? I was simply watching you deal with the retards. Quite sad actually that that is what we have to deal with around here. I've heard a lot about the general population of this place. Generic, roid raging "bad asses that don't take shit from no one". I believe that got old in the 90's. But yeah, theres no real catch that I'm after. Simply chatting.

~Damn...Jared definitely needs to find himself one of those shirts.~[/i]

[sinclair]

Ah, well, sorry for doubting you then. I see that you aren't the typical wrestler. Sweet. Honestly, I think you're the first person that I've REALLY met that's like you.. Oh, wait, there's that Leo Evander guy.. Except I don't think he's around these parts anymore. Don't know why...

He catches himself before he started rambling about the same old shit.. Dalton then notices Jared eyeballing his T-shirt. DIE BITCH!

Uhm.. Want one?

[hitzane]

~AH! He found out Jared's secret!~

Uh...can mine say "Die, Assclown"?

~Dalton doesn't answer and shrugs a bit. Seem like a yes .~[/i]

Fuck yes! Whos this Evander guy though? Isn't that some soprt pf herbal oil?

[sinclair]

Yeah, go for it. Die, assclown it is.

This guy seemed... goofy . That's always a good thing, it sucks balls having guys run around trying their hardest to be mature.

Hey, I don't think I really introduced myself. I'm Dalton Sinclair..

He turns around and points at the back of the shirt, which says "Dalton Sinclair for champ".

... Just like the shirt says. I imagine yours would say Jared Hitzane.. If it said my name, that'd be pretty high on the gay-o-meter.. Yeah...

[hitzane]

The gay-o-meter...sounds creepy. Sounds like most of the guys around here would be high up on that meter. Like seriously who the hell where purple anymore? That dude must be out of his mind. Trigga or whatever. Purple...god.

[sinclair]

Yeah, he's high on the meter..

Dalton raises his arm and glances at his watch. He looks back up and Jared.

Hey man, I gotta run. Later.

Dalton nods, and starts walking down the corridor.