Get Your Facts Straight

The scene opens to a young boy, probably 12 years old, holding a fluorescent tube in his right hand. He's a young black boy with a shaved head, wearing a white tee, denim shorts, white socks and black sneakers on. He's standing next to a taller black male who's about 14 years old, wearing a tshirt with a man's picture on it reading RIP SEAN, skinny jeans and black sneakers with white trim. They're standing on a street corner by a brick building, illuminated by the light of a street lamp above them.

The younger kid has the tube against his shoulder. He brings that end that's pointed towards the heavens on down to the pavement below, shattering that end to pieces and showering the pavement with a white powder. He then starts to scratch one of the jagged edges of it against the pavement. The kids turn their attention off camera to the street as a car can be heard racing up the block. Heavy bass can be heard from the car as the following music plays:



The headlights dim on the same emerald colored Bugatti Veyron. Frankie parks near the kids and steps out. Frankie's wearing a white fitted hat on backwards with a white doo rag underneath. He's wearing a baggy white t-shirt with an image of Charlie Brown thugged out and doing his dance with Snoopy, with green airbrush lettering reading LEAN WIT IT above them and ROCK WIT IT below them. The rest of his attire is a pair of black cargo pants and black Vans with white soles. Around his neck is a shiny, platinum and diamond encrusted chain that looks like the Bitcoin logo.

The kids rush up to him and some other, older black males come into the shot. Frankie smiles as the crowd starts shouting "Squaaaad!" and throwing up hand signs. The camera shows that the corner they're standing on is on Talbert & MLK Ave in Southeast, Anacostia, DC.

Did he really just drive that Bugatti 18 hours to Washington DC? But he's wearing different clothing. Huh.

The shot does a fade into the next shot, which has Frankie leaning against the car just as he was in the previous video, with others surrounding him. The others mean mug the camera, admire the car, talk amongst themselves, etc., as Frankie begins to speak.

"You really are going to sit there and tell me that things are going over MY head?" His eyes widen. "Did something happen to you while you were out in this business? Hey did you take a terrible hit on the head or some shit? You drinking Rech's juice? What's going on with you, for real for real. I really want to know. Look..."

He clasps his hands together, leaning forward. He begins to rub his hands together as his chain sways a bit before resting against his chest. "It's clear that you're not getting what I've been trying to say. I mean, it's blatantly obvious that you're going into not only this match, but this company with rose colored glasses. It's clear to me that talking to you about your fuckups isn't getting through to you so this Sunday I'll have to beat some sense into you, but I'm going to take the time to give it one more try. Third time's a charm, right?"

He rolls his shoulders, "So let's begin. First things first, you went from saying the deal is done, to denying it was a sweet deal, to now saying you made a deal. WHICH ONE IS IT?! The deal that has you going against the best in the business. Okay, Scotty, what I've been trying to tell you is, why do you think it's suddenly okay to just come out of nowhere and get your shot at me, if I'm the best in the business. Why do you think it's okay to go over the backs of others who have been trying to come up through the ranks to get at me and stop me from getting points? Okay, you don't care that it's a main event spot, fine, but you're already admitting that I'm a main eventer. It shouldn't matter where we are on the card, the fact that you're doing this goes against your own morals and you know it! And I find it quite fucking funny that Mr. Never Say Die is trying to tell me that to fix a problem you gotta run away from it. To fix the hood I gotta leave it? You think I haven't improved my situation? I'm a main eventer, standing in front of an expensive sports car, wearin an expensive chain, hangin out with my people. I'd say I'm doing pretty damn good for myself. What y'all think?" He looks around to those gathered. They begin to shout "Squaaaad!" "Rich Booooyz!" "Cochedda the DON!"

Frankie smirks, nodding his head a little and bringing up his chain by the bitcoin between his fingers, showing it off to the camera. "If you really wanna know what I'd do to you if we ever met, it should be obvious that I'm not coming for tea and biscuits, and it should be obvious that in the streets there ain't no fair ones, especially if I got the squad with me. But I ain't gonna do that to ya, Scotty. I ain't gonna sick the hounds on ya because if anybody's cryin some woe is me shit, it's gonna be you in the hospital after Sunday. You're saying the same ol shit. Everybody else is crying. Everybody else is mad. You're gonna get 'em good, aren't you Scotty? You're gonna show 'em how resilient you are! I've been bustin my ass in this ring while you've been sittin on the couch, beggin your wife for some handies while you watch the big leagues. No wonder she wants your ass back in the ring, so you'll get the hell out of her house and she won't have to listen to your whiney ass anymore. Some nerve you got steppin to me with that woe is me shit like I'm the one beggin backstage to go over the backs of everyone and face the white hot front runner of a promotion, while you go on and on with the same old shit about how you'll never say die like you're one of the fuckin power rangers you admire." He rolls his eyes. "Goddamn. And you talk about politicians like yeah, everyone knows they're corrupt, like we're supposed to just live with it instead of fighting back." He points an accusing finger. "YOU'RE part of the problem! You're just proving how lazy you are, because everyone else is putting in work while you just waltz into the company and demand a shot at me to try and kill MY momentum! You think I'm cryin. You think I'm pissed. You think you're spitting the truth but your words are laced with greed. You try to think I'm getting into your head going to Drew when I was just hanging out. When it's you who's trying to get into my head by bringing up how Drew and Frank are your friends. Yo..." He licks his lips, grinning widely all of a sudden. "You need to look in your own backyard and find out who your true friends are. You think I don't get what you're trying to say. You think they do, but really they're the ones who get me. Don't believe me? Check your boy Frank Washington. Go on and put up the tweets there, graphic guys." He waves at the camera in a shooing motion. The following tweets fade up onto the screen just long enough for the audience to read it before fading to the others, then back to Cocheese:



Frankie narrows his eyes. "You fucking follow me now? Huh? You fucking GET IT yet? I know things aren't as simple as they seem because your ass is making them complicated! Jesus Christ, man. You know what else? I keep ripping your ass verbally, all week, and all you do is going on and on about how much you respect me. You make it sound like I can go to your doorstep, take a giant shit on it, ring the bell and not even run away, but just wave and point and say that's my gift to you, and you'll still respect my ass. Fuckin weirdo. You sound like a clingy ex girlfriend with how obsessed with my ass you've been since you've been gone. You admitted it yourself!" Frankie takes a moment to crack his knuckles, leaning back against the car. "You admitted you've been watching me. You've admitted that most of my competition are only in it for the fame and fortune. I'm sure nobody in the RWD would take lightly to your continued shitting on them while you try to make up bullshit excuses as to why you deserve this match. The one thing that makes you different from everybody else is that you're a stalker, who is saying the same shit he always says, proving that Mr. Never Say Die is Mr. Never Out Of The Ordinary, Mr. Never Gonna Give You Up with your stalkin ass because your style is from the 80s too. I'm still on your ass about that fucked up haircut you got BOI!"

A few of his squad begin to laugh at that as Frankie continues on. "Y'know, I never said I gave a shit about Hayden Phoenix. You're trying to drop names back at me but like I said, they get me more than they get you. You stand there, with a straight face, and tell me this big lecture about how you're in it for the love of the sport and so are those guys. Well let me ask you another question that's gonna go unanswered by you, because you STILL didn't answer my question when I asked you what don't you understand? I told you, answer that in your next video and you didn't. But let me ask you... If you're in it for the love of the sport, and not in it for the money and the fame, why didn't you work your way through the ranks like I did for a main event spot? Is it because you're "the great" Scotty Addams? And you've got the audacity to say that shit about me. Look in the fucking mirror! Hopefully with a pair of scissors in your hand so you can fix that rat's nest up on ya head. Faux-hawk lookin like Foghorn Leghorn. Don't that sound familiar to you? Remember the last guy that tried to fuck with me that had a faux-hawk? I put him to sleep, and I told him just like I'm tellin you now." He tries to do a Foghorn Leghorn impersonation. "Boy I said Boy... why would you do that? Boy I said Boy... you done fucked up now!" He snickers, and some of his people do as well. "If there's no line jumping then your ass would be working your way to the top but instead you come back and take shots at me and it's like I said, you're cutting in line. Not only that, but you STILL try to consider me a friend, but what kind of a friend comes to fuck up his friend's momentum? Mr. Joker's Wild wants to come and fuck it up for the rest of his Joker's Wild buddies. And let's go back to Frank Washington! Yeah, you're trying to end my streak over the backs of guys like Frank Washington, who has proved that he loves this sport, who has proved that he's not in it for the fame or the fortune. You tell me I'm making shit up and that nothing's there, but the proof is in the pudding. You saw the tweets. Talk to the man yourself now. And while you're at it, talk to Drew, because I'm sure he'll echo the same shit!" He folds his arms over his chest. "Speaking of Drew, you act like I didn't just say in the last video that he's never beaten me. He has, but I put his ass away and now he's enjoying retirement."

Frankie makes an 'mm' sound, like he just tasted a delicious drink, or that he has a good point that he is about to bring up. "I'm tired of hearing you go on about how you're coming harder, faster, and stronger. This ain't oogie cookie. I ain't with that shit. Save that nasty shit to yourself." Was that the point? "If you're really fighting for the people that watched you grow and evolve in this business you'll realize that they're the ones who are telling you that in order to do that here you gotta work your way to the top. Listen to me, Scotty. This is not going to end well for you." That's the point.

He starts to walk forward to the camera now, face taking up the whole shot. He just stares into it with anger, raw emotion emitting from his eyes, his lips, his words. "You think I'm crying?" He points at his eyes with his right forefinger. "Look at these eyes. Look into them! LOOK INTO THEM, SCOTTY! You'll see the eyes of a man who didn't cry when his own fuckin MOTHER died! You'll see the eyes of the TRUE man who has his back against the wall in this match! If you manage to defeat me, which you won't! You'll just kill my momentum! You'll just give yourself an argument to Rech that you deserve to be in the title match at the next supercard because you beat the undefeated front runner in the Contest of Conquest! You'll be going over EVERYONE that spilled blood. EVERYONE! I've spilled my blood! I've spilled MAXWELL SCHNEIDER'S BLOOD! I'd rather do it again than face you Scotty, because Maxwell spilled his blood to earn this spot! And I still owe him an ass beating! I'm not telling you you're nothing. I'm not disregarding you, I'm not UNDERESTIMATING you, as you like to ALWAYS say! I'm telling you to work for it, but you just won't listen. Fine. My back is against the wall and you're giving me no other choice but to go for your throat. This isn't going to end well for either of us. You'll either kill my momentum, or I'll end you and make you realize well, it was worth a shot, and go back to your wife and make everybody realize what a waste of time this was..." He pauses, and a smile creeps up on his lips. "But it won't be a waste, because it'll be a free 3 points for me, and it'll show you that if you wanna go into a battle of words with the biggest dog in the yard, you need to get your facts straight, and if you wanna tango with the biggest dog in the yard, you need to keep your head on straight. Keep it just where I want, so I can Toe Tag it off... See you when I see you..."