Demetrius Burrell(c) vs Jake Rockwell

[Ryan Cooke]

Good luck to both!

[demetrius]

Masculinity is not something given to you, but something you gain. And you gain it by winning small battles with honor.
-Norman Mailer

“The time has finally come, the battle between two men that have been doing everything they can to prove the other wrong. One of those men being Jake Rockwell, he stepped into the PPW with only one goal in mind. That goal being to take away the PPW Heavyweight title from Demetrius Burrell. Rockwell being a vet in this game has taken it upon himself to prove to the world that Demetrius is nothing more then a paper champion, Rockwell believes that Demetrius won the title on nothing but pure luck and a fluke. The other man being Demetrius Burrell. Has everything to prove and a lot to gain from this match. He wants nothing more then to prove to Jake Rockwell that his win over C.J. Rowell was not a fluke and that he does indeed deserve to be the PPW Champion. It will all go down at the PPW super show Validation.”

(We open to Demetrius Burrell sitting in his office and in front of him resting on his desk is the PPW Heavyweight title he runs his fingers over the center plate and nods his head in approvement, he then looks up with a sly grin on his face.)

“ In a few short days I will finally be able to go one on one with a man that for the past few months has made my life a living hell.”

(Demetrius's grin now turns into a frown.)

“This very man has come into my house and has claimed that I am not worthy to be champion, that every single win that I have under my belt and the road that has brought me to the title has been nothing but a fluke and a weak one.”

(Demetrius shakes his head now.)

“He has brought nothing but shame and pure dis taste to my title run and everything that I have worked hard for.”

(Demetrius once again traces the title with his fingers.)

“A lot of people have come up to me and asked if it pisses me off, and I give them all the same answers.”

(Demetrius pauses for a moment.)

“I tell them no, it doesn't piss me off. The only thing that Rockwell has been doing these past few months has been driving me, and giving me that extra motivation that I need to prove everyone wrong.”

(Demetrius smiles slightly now.)

“While Rockwell has been spending his time trying to make me doubt myself and sitting on his couch in a drunken stupor. I've been doing my homework. Learning everything there is to know about Jake Rockwell, getting to understand how he works and what makes him tick.”

(Demetrius takes a deep breath.)

“I finally understand how you work, and I know what I have to do to beat you Rockwell, and with that being said. Will that scare you? Probably not, I still expect you to come at me hard probably harder then anyone has ever came at me before. I've seen the fire in your eyes when you mention my name. Hell I can just imagine the look on your face when you even think about me running around with the PPW strap proudly around my waist.”

(This causes Demetrius to smirk a little.)

“What I am still trying to figure out though Jake is why all of a sudden you have decided to come out of retirement and come after me, why didn't you come into the scene when Rowell won the title who just came out after I have been through a grueling match and decided to pick me apart when I was already beaten up.”

(Demetrius frowns.)

“No offense to Rowell I have much respect for him, but why didn't you decide to go after him when he won the strap in such an unjust way?”

(Demetrius stares at the camera now as if the camera man knows the answer to his question. He leans back now and frowns again.)

“Who knows, only you can give me the answer to that question, but I have been giving this whole situation some thought, and I have come to the conclusion. That the only reason you are chancing me is to make me better, I really don't know how to explain it, but in the back of my mind something tells me that you see something in me that others don't see, and you in your own special way you are trying to bring that out in me.”

(Demetrius sighs.)

“I just wish we could have went about things a different way. Either way though what is done is done and we are going to go head to head at Validation for this very title that I hold so dear to me.”

(Demetrius points to the PPW title.)

“All the fun and games are over with Rockwell. You can't hide behind your words anymore. Now it is put up and shut up time, and you are going to have to show me that the old vet can still hang with the young bucks and the future of this business. Rockwell I am not going to hold anything back just cause of the fact that you are an old drunk that is trying to relive his glory days.”

(Demetrius puts up his pointer finger and shakes it back and forth as to say no, no.)

“Once we step into that ring you are going to be just like everyone else that has stood before me in the past. Just another man that is trying to take my title away from me, just another human being that I have to destroy to keep on my road to becoming a true legend in this game.”

(Demetrius leans forward staring directly into the camera.)

“I've already beaten C.J. Rowell, and as much as you like to say it was a fluke it wasn't my friend I was the better man that night, and Rowell showed that he was truly a class act and he shook my hand. When it was all said and done he had the respect to do that. So Rockwell my question to you is this. Will you have that same respect to do the same? Win, Lose, Or Draw I will be a man and I will shake your hand. I just hope that you are man enough to do the same.”

(Still staring at the camera Demetrius winks.)

“So at Validation, be prepared to get what you wanted, we will finally face off one on one and I am going to bring everything that I have to the table. You will not beat me, I am on a roll and in the best shape that I have ever been in. I am going to run circles around you and I will pin your shoulders to the mat. I just hope that you can keep up. At Validation you will see what The” Main Attraction” is all about. So I'll see you at Validation pal.”

(Demetrius gets up from his chair grabbing the PPW title and slinging it over his shoulder as he walks out of the sight of the camera.)

[rockwell]

[The camera opens to a blurry shot of a desolate street in Pontiac, Michigan. The Wisner Stadium looms in the background, but the camera focuses itself on a nearer, clearer logo, which a male voice reads.]

Man: Bob & Elmer's Bar. Sounds like a couple of assholes to me.

[The man steps forward, back to the camera. There's a small black travel bag slung over his shoulder, dressed in blue jeans, boots and a black T-shirt. He rubs his chin thoughtfully, and looks up and down the street, revealing the face of Jake Rockwell.]

Rockwell: Still, this is the first bar out of a half-dozen that has the common sense to be open at 11 on a Saturday morning--Christ, don't people have LUNCH in Pontiac?

[Rockwell sighs, switches the bag to his other shoulder, and rubs the spot where the strap had been digging in.]

Rockwell: Well, let's see how Bob and Elmer are doing.

[He pushes the door open and slinks inside. Clouds of dust lazily float in the sunlight, which only highlights that Rockwell is the only patron. He flops down at the bar, front and center.]

Rockwell: What the hell's a guy got to do to get some lunch in this place, Bob?

[The bartender, a man in his mid-40s or so, turns around, revealing glasses, a receding hairline, and a light grey moustache.]

Rockwell: No, no, you look more like an Elmer.

Bartender: Can I get you a menu, sir?

[Rockwell reaches out and shakes one of the beer tap handles up and down.]

Rockwell: I can see it just fine. I don't suppose any Alaskan Smoked Porter makes it way down to the Mitten State, does it?

Bartender: Sorry, that's not in stock.

Rockwell: How about a Yuengling?

Bartender: I'm sorry, sir.

[Rockwell sighs, and buries his head in his right hand. The free hand reaches up and blindly pulls on a tap handle.]

Rockwell: This one.

[The bartender pours Rockwell a drink, then heads off to the far end of the bar. Rockwell holds the beer up to the light, looks at the cloudy texture, and frowns disapprovingly.]

Rockwell: I know I'm the new guy around here, and I know that you don't exactly endear yourself by questioning the boss's judgment, but...

[He cracks a quick grin out the side of his mouth, which he quickly plugs up with the edge of the glass.]

Rockwell: ...is it just me, or does the main event for Redemption seem a little... redundant? I've already pinned our PPW Heavyweight Champion. Hell, I've pinned one half of our PPW Tag Team Champions. Say, Shanny, here's an idea: now that I've got Dusty Griffith out of the way, put me up against his partner Garret Bishop. Maybe pulling off the hat trick of our title holders will prove my dominance over this joke of a roster once and for all.

[Rockwell laughs heartily, and works on the beer for a full half-minute before speaking again.]

Rockwell: Last Showdown, in an eight-man tag, I pin you clean. I could have pinned any of four guys. So could you have. So could any of my teammates, of yours. Eight guys, four targets apiece. Thirty-two ways that match could have ended, kid, and it ended with me pinning the champ. What are the odds?

[Rockwell pulls a napkin out of a dispenser, flips it onto the bar counter, and produces a pen.]

Rockwell: Let's see if I remember my long division. Hmm... divide one by thirty-two... add some zeroes... goes into one-hundred three times... bring down the four...

[Rockwell takes a sip, resumes the calculations, then scribbles what he's working on, flips the napkin over, and jots something down.]

Rockwell: Here we go.

[Rockwell holds the napkin up to the camera. It reads "1/1" He crumples it up and tosses it onto the counter.]

Rockwell: One-to-one, kid. Even money. I've already beaten you, and don't go on pretending like it doesn't count just because you still have the belt. I'll give you one thing: you can't win title matches too reliably, but you sure have a knack for dodging them.

[Rockwell sips.]

Rockwell: I have to say, kid, your self-delusion runs deeper than even I would have guessed. I see you talking up our match, and do you mention the three count? Do you mention that I've already got one up on your heading into Validation? No, you're spouting delusional nonsense about what I see in you, about me trying to bring something out in you.

[Rockwell fiddles with the napkin, then tosses it onto the floor behind the bar.]

Rockwell: As usual, you've got it wrong. Exactly wrong. I don't look at you and see anything. It's about what I don't see in you, kid, and that's a champion. I don't want to bring something out in you, I want to take something away from you.

[Rockwell pauses, eyes the drink, but instead continues speaking, a bit more soberly.]

Rockwell: I'm glad this is fun for you, kid. I'm glad you're all hyped up for your match with the vet at the big show. I'm glad you'll spend the rest of the weekend excited for a chance to prove yourself. Hell, I'm even glad you're so blind that you flatter yourself into thinking that I see something in you, or that you could impress me somehow. That's a good feeling--I remember it from when I was young--but it's fleeting.

[Rockwell takes a drink.]

Rockwell: I see nothing in you. I want nothing to do with you. I resent you winning that title without working for it. If you didn't have it, I wouldn't know your name. Even now, I still won't use it... or haven't you noticed that yet, kid? I want the belt. You just happen to have it. When I'm done with the match, I'm done with you. You're not an obstacle because you're you, you're an obstacle because you have the belt. And, when you don't have it anymore, well...

[Rockwell kills the beer.]

Rockwell: Hey, Elmer...

[He pushes down on a tap handle over and over again until the bartender approaches again, and the camera fades to black as Rockwell awaits drink number two.]