Post by Frankie Cocheese on Oct 26, 2014 21:16:15 GMT
The scene opens up to a beautiful, cloudy blue sky with the sun shining. The camera pans down to reveal a mountain off in the distance, cutting into the sky.
The camera pans down even further, revealing a huge patch of grass on a hill with Frankie Cocheese standing by the driver's side door of a 4 door tan convertible. His feet are crossed at the ankles, right over left. He has a bottle of Captain Morgan's Puerto Rican Spice Rum in his right hand, casually taking sips out of it as he just stares at something off camera.
He's wearing a white DC 5950 fitted on backwards, a white tanktop, denim jeans and white Vans. He turns his head to look towards the camera while bringing the bottle to his lips. He takes a deep swig, and when his lips part from the end of the glass, there's a 'thunk' sound from the air passing through.
"So they got me teamed up with a fuckin terrorist, and a lazy hockey player that wants to make it in my world..." He casts his eyes down at the grass and shakes his head. "And they have the 3 of us goin up against two of my boys from the Joker's Wild... Do they not realize..." He peers at the camera now. "Do they not realize what they have here? They could put this shit on Pay-Per-View the history I have with Stevenson. Badger and all them boys, they put this match together, and I guess it was to punish Stevenson for whatever beef he's got, but they don't know. They don't REALLY know what they have here. And that's a shame... Cuz I bring money..." He sets the bottle on the hood of the car.
"You assholes are prolly wonderin why I'm drinkin when I gotta roll out of here after this but what you don't realize is there's a person behind that camera." He shakes his head slowly. "Just like management doesn't realize what they got. First of all, I've known Frank Washington for years, but I've never been in the ring with him. The man's done a lot. He has. And, he's put on some of the greatest stuff out there." Frankie pauses. "... But I've done more. I've done a lot more in what little time I've had my name come out there. I've been in this business for a long time, but it was for scraps until two years... TWO YEARS ago!" He puts up two fingers. "... When the Cocheese name went international... Like I said, puttin my name in this shit makes money. And as for Washington, well... He's my brother with the Joker's but let's face the facts. Let's address the elephant in the room." He smirks, snatching up the liquor bottle. "Every one of us in the Jokers, whether we wanted to admit it or not, always had in the back of our minds... When, not if, but when, will Washington live up to his moniker and turn on us. And if you want my honest opinion, I think it's going to be during this match... Drew." He smiles. "Drew already knows. He can deny it as much as he wants but he knows like the rest of us knows that that day is coming one day. Drew, you know you have to keep your head on a swivel now."
He laughs, right hand holding the bottle by the neck. He extends that hand out while he grips the bottle, forefinger of his right hand pointing at the camera. "You already know, Stevenson. And you probably think I'm just planting this in your mind to have you question Washington, but we all have been, silently, all along, and you're a liar... a FOOL if you haven't been!" He takes a swig from the bottle, which makes that 'thunk' sound again after his lips part from it. "Heh heh... Drew, on the other hand, you've done a lot. A whole lot, and yeah, fuck it, I'll say it, you've done a lot more than me. Thing is..." He wags that same finger again and then sets the bottle back on the hood of the car, swallowing before speaking. "Mhh.. You've had a lot more time in this business and all your cash helped you get to the top pretty fast. And I'm hungry. I've always hungry. I want this, no, I NEED this more than you, and you know it. I'd tell you not to show up to this match but I know you won't for two reasons: one, I know you, you're stubborn, and you want the belt just like I do, and two, you don't want to let Washington down. You know what? I'll give you that one. Because unlike one of my partners in this match, you're not going to leave your boy out to dry." He laughs heartily, then takes a moment to gaze up at the Heavens. "God, they really fucked up, haven't they?" His eyes fix on the camera. "They paired me up with two buffoons. Dennis Driver and Prince Asswad or Assad whatever his fuckin name is. Driver leavin his boy out to dry, and Assad coming into our country and talking shit. Y'all know how I deal with outside threats like that. Y'all remember. Fuck..." He pauses, thinking on something. "It's like I gotta take on threats both foreign and domestic next weekend. That's what y'all are. That's what ALL of y'all are." He waves his right forefinger up and over him in the air. "Y'all are threats to my reign, and I don't take threats lightly..."
He lowers his head while he reaches for the bottle once more, taking a sip of it, then continuing to grip it. "Guess y'all were expecting a freestyle out of me on Friday, huh? Well Friday past, but fuck it. I'll go acapella on y'all bitches." He clears his throat, and then looks into the camera, starting to rhyme.
"Life's full of chaos
Tryin to sort through it is hectic
Ya boy takin on all threats
Both foreign and domestic
While ebola spreadin daily
Our country's grippin on disease
But they all on Justin Brent
and pornstars droppin to their knees
Al Capone's crib
Bein sold for 250Gs
But when it's time to feed the poor
Ain't nobody got the cheese? Bitch please!
New York apartments
Sold for 95 million dollars
They lookin down upon us all
We starvin and they poppin collars
Trayvon Martin shot and killed
17 year old buying candy
Labeling him as a thug
Thinkin dead blacks is fine and dandy
Michael Brown murdered by cops
Hands up don't shoot
Black thing or white thing
Let's just break it to the root
This world is sick and cold
And I'm just fightin to get mine
Rather be chillin on my throne
Than workin on somebody else's dime
That 9 to 5 shit
They bleed your life for profit
You're indispose able to them
They drop you quick like you just hot shit
Fuck all that noise. I'm gettin ready for war
The streets have got me feelin toxic
On a team but feel alone
The world is ill but I am not sick
They callin me the round boy
'cause now I'm ballin oh so hard
Prince Assad hates my country
But he ain't walk my boulevard
And Dennis Driver ain't on shit
He left his partner out to dry
Thinks he's hot shit in the ice rink
In my ring he's just a small fry
Laziest boy in the hockey league
Now he wants up in my profession
He gets in my way next sunday
He's learnin a real fast lesson
Simple and plain
You fuck with mine I take you out
Don't matter if I hate you
Or with me you got some clout
So let's talk about Frank Washington
Revolutionary Turncoat
My fists are like some .22s
Gonna make his body float
Yeah we used to be some Jokers
And I knew he was a Turncoat
Said if he stab me in the back
I'm steady slicin across his throat
Now we movin to Drew Stevenson
Did you think I forgot about you?
Used to couldn't stand my ass
Then you welcomed me to your crew.
Said you had it all
Clout, fame, titles, cash
Welcomed me to your home
When all I wanted was that stash
Could've had that tek up on you
Make you give up all that work
But I was playin it smart
In the shadows where I lurk
They said it's 3 on 2
But it's more like 4 on 1
Shit ain't gon' be hard though
In the game I'm the prodigal son."
Frankie's eyes narrow. "That's right! I talk shit on all you motherfuckers cuz I don't trust NONE of you motherfuckers!" He nods his head knowingly. "That's right...! It's me against the world!" He spreads his arms, still holding onto the bottle while he shouts up at the sky. "ME AGAINST THE WORLD!" He starts laughing. Visibly, the alcohol is starting to kick in, his face reddening. "Oooh shit. Y'know, none of this shit makes sense to me. This team they got me on, the opponents they put in front of me, how fans talk shit that I'm on a Leave of Absense when they confusin me for Tyson Pride, how a Billionaire is giving his time to a fed like ours. Bunch of faggots, all of them..." He shakes his head and sips once more on the liquor. "But fuck it, who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth? Opportunities everywhere. Opportunities to get back at Stevenson. Opportunities to go towards the title. Opportunities to shit on all you fans that doubt me. Opportunities to make some money if that Billionaire bets on me. And yeah I said faggots, I'm cursin. I don't give a fuck. People talkin at me like oh Frankie you shouldn't curse so much in a promo. You know what I got to say to that?" Before one could even answer, he drinks while flipping off the camera. "Fuuuuck you! Come do somethin about it. They wanted me as me and now they got me. Deal with it. All y'all are just threats to my reign, and next weekend, each and every one of you get handled."
He puts his free hand up in the shape of a gun and points it at the camera. "See you when I see you..."
The camera swiftly turns to reveal what he's been staring at in the beginning, the lining of a forest. Birds can be heard chirping as the camera fades to black.
The camera pans down even further, revealing a huge patch of grass on a hill with Frankie Cocheese standing by the driver's side door of a 4 door tan convertible. His feet are crossed at the ankles, right over left. He has a bottle of Captain Morgan's Puerto Rican Spice Rum in his right hand, casually taking sips out of it as he just stares at something off camera.
He's wearing a white DC 5950 fitted on backwards, a white tanktop, denim jeans and white Vans. He turns his head to look towards the camera while bringing the bottle to his lips. He takes a deep swig, and when his lips part from the end of the glass, there's a 'thunk' sound from the air passing through.
"So they got me teamed up with a fuckin terrorist, and a lazy hockey player that wants to make it in my world..." He casts his eyes down at the grass and shakes his head. "And they have the 3 of us goin up against two of my boys from the Joker's Wild... Do they not realize..." He peers at the camera now. "Do they not realize what they have here? They could put this shit on Pay-Per-View the history I have with Stevenson. Badger and all them boys, they put this match together, and I guess it was to punish Stevenson for whatever beef he's got, but they don't know. They don't REALLY know what they have here. And that's a shame... Cuz I bring money..." He sets the bottle on the hood of the car.
"You assholes are prolly wonderin why I'm drinkin when I gotta roll out of here after this but what you don't realize is there's a person behind that camera." He shakes his head slowly. "Just like management doesn't realize what they got. First of all, I've known Frank Washington for years, but I've never been in the ring with him. The man's done a lot. He has. And, he's put on some of the greatest stuff out there." Frankie pauses. "... But I've done more. I've done a lot more in what little time I've had my name come out there. I've been in this business for a long time, but it was for scraps until two years... TWO YEARS ago!" He puts up two fingers. "... When the Cocheese name went international... Like I said, puttin my name in this shit makes money. And as for Washington, well... He's my brother with the Joker's but let's face the facts. Let's address the elephant in the room." He smirks, snatching up the liquor bottle. "Every one of us in the Jokers, whether we wanted to admit it or not, always had in the back of our minds... When, not if, but when, will Washington live up to his moniker and turn on us. And if you want my honest opinion, I think it's going to be during this match... Drew." He smiles. "Drew already knows. He can deny it as much as he wants but he knows like the rest of us knows that that day is coming one day. Drew, you know you have to keep your head on a swivel now."
He laughs, right hand holding the bottle by the neck. He extends that hand out while he grips the bottle, forefinger of his right hand pointing at the camera. "You already know, Stevenson. And you probably think I'm just planting this in your mind to have you question Washington, but we all have been, silently, all along, and you're a liar... a FOOL if you haven't been!" He takes a swig from the bottle, which makes that 'thunk' sound again after his lips part from it. "Heh heh... Drew, on the other hand, you've done a lot. A whole lot, and yeah, fuck it, I'll say it, you've done a lot more than me. Thing is..." He wags that same finger again and then sets the bottle back on the hood of the car, swallowing before speaking. "Mhh.. You've had a lot more time in this business and all your cash helped you get to the top pretty fast. And I'm hungry. I've always hungry. I want this, no, I NEED this more than you, and you know it. I'd tell you not to show up to this match but I know you won't for two reasons: one, I know you, you're stubborn, and you want the belt just like I do, and two, you don't want to let Washington down. You know what? I'll give you that one. Because unlike one of my partners in this match, you're not going to leave your boy out to dry." He laughs heartily, then takes a moment to gaze up at the Heavens. "God, they really fucked up, haven't they?" His eyes fix on the camera. "They paired me up with two buffoons. Dennis Driver and Prince Asswad or Assad whatever his fuckin name is. Driver leavin his boy out to dry, and Assad coming into our country and talking shit. Y'all know how I deal with outside threats like that. Y'all remember. Fuck..." He pauses, thinking on something. "It's like I gotta take on threats both foreign and domestic next weekend. That's what y'all are. That's what ALL of y'all are." He waves his right forefinger up and over him in the air. "Y'all are threats to my reign, and I don't take threats lightly..."
He lowers his head while he reaches for the bottle once more, taking a sip of it, then continuing to grip it. "Guess y'all were expecting a freestyle out of me on Friday, huh? Well Friday past, but fuck it. I'll go acapella on y'all bitches." He clears his throat, and then looks into the camera, starting to rhyme.
"Life's full of chaos
Tryin to sort through it is hectic
Ya boy takin on all threats
Both foreign and domestic
While ebola spreadin daily
Our country's grippin on disease
But they all on Justin Brent
and pornstars droppin to their knees
Al Capone's crib
Bein sold for 250Gs
But when it's time to feed the poor
Ain't nobody got the cheese? Bitch please!
New York apartments
Sold for 95 million dollars
They lookin down upon us all
We starvin and they poppin collars
Trayvon Martin shot and killed
17 year old buying candy
Labeling him as a thug
Thinkin dead blacks is fine and dandy
Michael Brown murdered by cops
Hands up don't shoot
Black thing or white thing
Let's just break it to the root
This world is sick and cold
And I'm just fightin to get mine
Rather be chillin on my throne
Than workin on somebody else's dime
That 9 to 5 shit
They bleed your life for profit
You're indispose able to them
They drop you quick like you just hot shit
Fuck all that noise. I'm gettin ready for war
The streets have got me feelin toxic
On a team but feel alone
The world is ill but I am not sick
They callin me the round boy
'cause now I'm ballin oh so hard
Prince Assad hates my country
But he ain't walk my boulevard
And Dennis Driver ain't on shit
He left his partner out to dry
Thinks he's hot shit in the ice rink
In my ring he's just a small fry
Laziest boy in the hockey league
Now he wants up in my profession
He gets in my way next sunday
He's learnin a real fast lesson
Simple and plain
You fuck with mine I take you out
Don't matter if I hate you
Or with me you got some clout
So let's talk about Frank Washington
Revolutionary Turncoat
My fists are like some .22s
Gonna make his body float
Yeah we used to be some Jokers
And I knew he was a Turncoat
Said if he stab me in the back
I'm steady slicin across his throat
Now we movin to Drew Stevenson
Did you think I forgot about you?
Used to couldn't stand my ass
Then you welcomed me to your crew.
Said you had it all
Clout, fame, titles, cash
Welcomed me to your home
When all I wanted was that stash
Could've had that tek up on you
Make you give up all that work
But I was playin it smart
In the shadows where I lurk
They said it's 3 on 2
But it's more like 4 on 1
Shit ain't gon' be hard though
In the game I'm the prodigal son."
Frankie's eyes narrow. "That's right! I talk shit on all you motherfuckers cuz I don't trust NONE of you motherfuckers!" He nods his head knowingly. "That's right...! It's me against the world!" He spreads his arms, still holding onto the bottle while he shouts up at the sky. "ME AGAINST THE WORLD!" He starts laughing. Visibly, the alcohol is starting to kick in, his face reddening. "Oooh shit. Y'know, none of this shit makes sense to me. This team they got me on, the opponents they put in front of me, how fans talk shit that I'm on a Leave of Absense when they confusin me for Tyson Pride, how a Billionaire is giving his time to a fed like ours. Bunch of faggots, all of them..." He shakes his head and sips once more on the liquor. "But fuck it, who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth? Opportunities everywhere. Opportunities to get back at Stevenson. Opportunities to go towards the title. Opportunities to shit on all you fans that doubt me. Opportunities to make some money if that Billionaire bets on me. And yeah I said faggots, I'm cursin. I don't give a fuck. People talkin at me like oh Frankie you shouldn't curse so much in a promo. You know what I got to say to that?" Before one could even answer, he drinks while flipping off the camera. "Fuuuuck you! Come do somethin about it. They wanted me as me and now they got me. Deal with it. All y'all are just threats to my reign, and next weekend, each and every one of you get handled."
He puts his free hand up in the shape of a gun and points it at the camera. "See you when I see you..."
The camera swiftly turns to reveal what he's been staring at in the beginning, the lining of a forest. Birds can be heard chirping as the camera fades to black.
so quickly so sad!
