Dallas, Texas
An outcast, a desperate hope grasping in
society. Walking along the street, receiving many glares from many people,
frightened look from others. The past 18 years of torture reveals more scars
than the one revealed on my cheek. I try to fit in, yet it seems to be to no
avail. Walking along the streets, with nothing other than the clothes on my
back. I began my conquest to fame, strength and riches inside of a small hotel
near the venue of my first wrestling victory, against nothing but an American
punk living easy for the entire of his life, well now he’s finally going to
receive some pain, he’s going to find that what I’ve suffered for isn’t going to
waste. I am going to make sure that I’ve grown strong, both mentally and
physically, and hopefully you will give me the chance to sign the contract, the
contract that will seal the fate of every member of the Next Level Revolution.
Our latest scene on the expedition that is the life of Yoshi Yawakuzi is along
the streets of Texas with a glare on his face. People look at him quickly, and
then walk away, even quicker. Wearing ripped Jeans and a t-shirt, Yoshi is
desperately searching for a place to stay, it hasn’t yet managed to occur to him
that he is standing outside of a pretty decent hotel, where you get quite a lot
for your money. Turning around, his eyes widen to the sight that comes before
him: The hotel.
Yoshi: A sushi restaurant? Oh great, I’m
starved! They better cook better than…him
Him…a name dreaded by dear Yoshi for years on
end. The man who brought Yoshi this copious amount of suffering, anguish and
torment. The man who Yoshi will soon pulverize and beat the crap out of. But for
now, Yoshi has to rest…Yoshi has to calm down, suppress his anger, focus fully
on the NLR. For now, Yoshi has to think about his match at next
Hiss-…Hiss-….Hysteria. His opponent can bring it on, if he wants to, cause Yoshi
will be ready, and fully trained, and will be ready to fight.
Yoshi Yawakazi knocks on the door of the hotel, yet receives no reply, no reply
at all. He opens the door, and his eyes fixate on a great and illustrious
building, looking well maintained and respectable. Yoshi walks up to the counter
and says.
Yoshi: One room for a week, please.
Receptionist: Okay, that’ll be
two-hundred and fifty dollars please.
Yoshi was pleased. Very cheap for a nice
looking hotel. Yoshi paid the money to the receptionist and the receptionist
gave him a key, to which he gratefully accepted. On the way up the stairs, Yoshi
nodded his head obligingly, and then notions to his room door which read ‘231’.
Yoshi shook his head, and as he fumbled with the keys in the door, Yoshi
muttered.
Yoshi: Here’s to a brand new life, and a
whole new beginning.
Managing to open the door, Yoshi looks at the
room…
Yoshi: Fucking hell.
The scene fades