Post by Kasey Kash on Nov 20, 2022 2:45:43 GMT
Unfamiliar Voice: Alright, fuck heads?
That’s how the scene opens, the fans greeted with the image of Scott Dunn. The big guy is dressed for battle, with an appearance slated later tonight. For now, though, it seems we’re to be “gifted” a few words from him.
Scott Dunn: Aye, that’s right. It’s your boy, Scotty Dunn, here in XIX for the very first time. Dragged me all the way here to, eh…what’s if fucking called?
He leans off camera momentarily and a second voice is heard murmuring.
Scott Dunn: Oh aye, Rosemont, Illinois.
He shrugs.
Scott Dunn: Ain’t no dream destination, is it? Well tell you what, folks, tonight it’s gonna be a nightmare for some here. See, I ain’t here for shits and giggles. I got me some business to tend to, namely that XIX Weekend Warrior Championship Battle Royal Match. Fuckin’ mouthful that, innit?
Dunn seems fairly pleased not to have botched the name, though.
Scott Dunn: There’s a bunch of folks here, backstage like me, who think that match is theirs for the taking. It ain’t. Not with me there.
He raises a single finger, then waves it dismissively.
Scott Dunn: Had me some time away from the ring, reset and rebuild. I’m here now to make a big impact in this place, show you dolts how this is done. So that match, that win, it’s mine and there ain’t gonna be no argument about it.
He grabs the camera. There’s a thud as, it’s assumed anyway, the operator is dragged forward with it and falls.
Scott Dunn: So here’s me message to the rest of you knob jockeys. Don’t us all a favour. Don’t show up.
He shoves the camera backward, into someone’s hands.
Scott Dunn: Peace.
He flicks the middle finger, then wanders off. Great guy, so polite. The fans roundly boo him. That happens.
That’s how the scene opens, the fans greeted with the image of Scott Dunn. The big guy is dressed for battle, with an appearance slated later tonight. For now, though, it seems we’re to be “gifted” a few words from him.
Scott Dunn: Aye, that’s right. It’s your boy, Scotty Dunn, here in XIX for the very first time. Dragged me all the way here to, eh…what’s if fucking called?
He leans off camera momentarily and a second voice is heard murmuring.
Scott Dunn: Oh aye, Rosemont, Illinois.
He shrugs.
Scott Dunn: Ain’t no dream destination, is it? Well tell you what, folks, tonight it’s gonna be a nightmare for some here. See, I ain’t here for shits and giggles. I got me some business to tend to, namely that XIX Weekend Warrior Championship Battle Royal Match. Fuckin’ mouthful that, innit?
Dunn seems fairly pleased not to have botched the name, though.
Scott Dunn: There’s a bunch of folks here, backstage like me, who think that match is theirs for the taking. It ain’t. Not with me there.
He raises a single finger, then waves it dismissively.
Scott Dunn: Had me some time away from the ring, reset and rebuild. I’m here now to make a big impact in this place, show you dolts how this is done. So that match, that win, it’s mine and there ain’t gonna be no argument about it.
He grabs the camera. There’s a thud as, it’s assumed anyway, the operator is dragged forward with it and falls.
Scott Dunn: So here’s me message to the rest of you knob jockeys. Don’t us all a favour. Don’t show up.
He shoves the camera backward, into someone’s hands.
Scott Dunn: Peace.
He flicks the middle finger, then wanders off. Great guy, so polite. The fans roundly boo him. That happens.