Post by Axel O'Murphy on May 20, 2011 14:42:11 GMT -5
Hands slick back a head of green hair as a nice white cowboy hat slides down the sides of his head to his ears. The reflection in the mirror shows a man with a peculiar nose...that man is Axel O'Murphy.
Axel O'Murphy: Let's take a look at you, handsome.
Axel takes a long look at his reflection, zoning in on his eyes first, then his pupils...his pupils looking at his pupils. He is prepared to release this creative energy on the audience, as he goes out for what he knows will be a thrilling performance. He knows there will be fans out there who will love him and fans out there who will politely keep silent. He is mightily prepping himself...for his poetry reading. He walks to the stage, steps behind the podium and begins to read with no introduction...
The audience snaps as he concludes his poem. Some even giving a standing snap-vation. That is huge for the snapping, poet lovers of coffee shops around the country. Axel is pretty much a poet laureate in that coffee shop...his poems, taken far deeper than they should, are met with lauding ears...but then again, what poetry isn't taken further than it should go. Axel enjoys making rhymes and loves the attention. This is what he does to free his mind...he trains to free his body. Most people use their training as a time to discipline their body...Axel is the other way around. He feels that energy in his body must be exhausted for him to stay focused. Perhaps it's hyperactivity...but he has trained with some of the best and uses keeping a focus as a stake in his life. As he makes his way through the crowded coffee shop, shaking hands. He gets outside to see Tytus Rost and his uncle, Berrick O'Murphy.
Axel O'Murphy: Hey guys! What did you think?
Berrick grins a fake grin lying that he thought it was great. Tytus doesn't change his expression.
Axel O'Murphy: Uncle B, I know that look, you guys sat out here the whole time. I can't help that I have a poets heart.
Berrick O'Murphy: Well, I'd like for you to have a fighters heart. You've been training for years...it's time. I have a contract for you.
Axel lets off a confident smile.
Axel O'Murphy: Where am I going to be fighting?
Tytus Rost: Elite Fight Club. Old connections have led us to believe a ton of money is being poured into this new company...and you and BJ are going to be fighting there.
Axel O'Murphy: BJ! That's great. I like that guy.
Berrick O'Murphy: Of course you do, Axel. He's the fruit of my loins.
Tytus looks at Berrick disgusted.
Tytus Rost: Word that differently next time.
Tytus's shaming of Berrick doesn't hinder Berrick's enthusiasm.
Berrick O'Murphy: You and BJ have been on great and different paths. You have trained with Tytus Rost and with Bob Pooler. You possess the athleticism and brains that come natural to O'Murphy Men...
Axel O'Murphy: OH-Mazing!
Tytus rolls his eyes and has heard enough. He takes control of the conversation.
Tytus Rost: You have been trained, and you are ready. It's about time we got you into a position to make this pay off. We need to get you out of these poets houses.
Axel O'Murphy: I'll always be a...
Tytus Rost: ...Fighter. You will always be a fighter. First and foremost now, you are a fighter. If you are going to represent my teachings, and Pooler's, you are now a fighter. You'd better represent us well.
Tytus Rost's glare sends a shiver down Axel's spine. Bob Pooler had always taken an intellectual approach to his training of Axel. That could be one reason that Axel is a world class wrestler...both amateur and pro. Rost, not necessarily a warm man, had taken a different approach to Axel and trained him in Sambo. Axel tried to show a brave face, but he never used those tactics, he didn't need to. Axel took the O'Murphy charm. Always likable...more than able to lead a revolution if need be.
Berrick O'Murphy: We have your contract, sent from EFC headquarters. You sign it and you have a fight this week.
Berrick pulls an envelope from his pocket and places the contract on the table, there outside the coffee shop. Axel smiles and takes the pen from Uncle Berrick and signs the contract. Axel sits back in the chair across from Tytus, he takes of his hat, his green hair falling past his ears. He fans himself with his hat.
Axel O'Murphy: Time to put my training into action. I am the complete package. I have Uncle Berrick's good looks, the education of Bob Pooler, the focus of Tytus Rost...
Berrick O'Murphy: ...and a poster of Mac Bane in your room.
Axel looks at Berrick like there's nothing wrong for a 20-something year old man to have a muscle poster on his wall.
Axel O'Murphy: What's wrong with that Uncle B. He's my favorite. One of the best of all time. I might get to meet him one day, and when I do...I'm going to ask him a ton of questions...
Axel continues to jabber on about Mac Bane as Tytus and Berrick start to walk off. Axel looks up and see's his mentors leaving. He looks at the camera and winks...he just played them like a fiddle.
"Sugar" Shane Doyle. "Sugar" Shane. I go by the rule of thumb that most men that have sugar in their names end up being very tough. You can look at boxing and see very talented "Sugar" Rays...So, you will have my undivided attention this week in my training. You may not care, I don't know anything about you, except for your profile. I assume you are a tough guy. If you weren't, you wouldn't have been offered a contract. I want you to know that you'll be getting the whole package this week, I'm not going to hold back. I want to make a great first impression...I just hope we can be friends afterwords.
You could call me a fantastic mixture of Uncle Berrick and Tytus Rost. Perhaps that is why Bob Pooler and I got along so well...but you could also throw in there someone who is a fantastic poet and a beautiful soul...and that's me in a nut shell...except I'm crazy in the ring.
Shane, you have heard my sweet poetry. Some of the best of the decade...now you will see how sweet my fighting skills are. I can't help but think about Pete Sampras...not that I watch tennis, or care for it much, but he is out doing something and winning, that's what is commendable. He is one of the best, me too. I can't wait to unleash my sweet fighting skills on my new friend Shane. Friends can fight and be okay later, that's how we are going to be friends. I'm excited, you should be too, I'm a good friend.
Am I a southpaw? Do I prefer ground and pound or striking? I'm going to mix it up. You'd better be prepared for everything. Remember, I have the brains of an O'Murphy....Oh'Mazing.
Axel O'Murphy: Let's take a look at you, handsome.
Axel takes a long look at his reflection, zoning in on his eyes first, then his pupils...his pupils looking at his pupils. He is prepared to release this creative energy on the audience, as he goes out for what he knows will be a thrilling performance. He knows there will be fans out there who will love him and fans out there who will politely keep silent. He is mightily prepping himself...for his poetry reading. He walks to the stage, steps behind the podium and begins to read with no introduction...
Through dusted grass, I'll saunter past
Whistling, prodding, walking, talking
I was taken a gast, by the horrible blast
stinking, smelling, gagging, choking
Monkey farts, their dookie art
They fling their poo, they throw at you
I would be smart, to duck and dart
If they hit you, you'll wear brown hue
Thank you.
Whistling, prodding, walking, talking
I was taken a gast, by the horrible blast
stinking, smelling, gagging, choking
Monkey farts, their dookie art
They fling their poo, they throw at you
I would be smart, to duck and dart
If they hit you, you'll wear brown hue
Thank you.
The audience snaps as he concludes his poem. Some even giving a standing snap-vation. That is huge for the snapping, poet lovers of coffee shops around the country. Axel is pretty much a poet laureate in that coffee shop...his poems, taken far deeper than they should, are met with lauding ears...but then again, what poetry isn't taken further than it should go. Axel enjoys making rhymes and loves the attention. This is what he does to free his mind...he trains to free his body. Most people use their training as a time to discipline their body...Axel is the other way around. He feels that energy in his body must be exhausted for him to stay focused. Perhaps it's hyperactivity...but he has trained with some of the best and uses keeping a focus as a stake in his life. As he makes his way through the crowded coffee shop, shaking hands. He gets outside to see Tytus Rost and his uncle, Berrick O'Murphy.
Axel O'Murphy: Hey guys! What did you think?
Berrick grins a fake grin lying that he thought it was great. Tytus doesn't change his expression.
Axel O'Murphy: Uncle B, I know that look, you guys sat out here the whole time. I can't help that I have a poets heart.
Berrick O'Murphy: Well, I'd like for you to have a fighters heart. You've been training for years...it's time. I have a contract for you.
Axel lets off a confident smile.
Axel O'Murphy: Where am I going to be fighting?
Tytus Rost: Elite Fight Club. Old connections have led us to believe a ton of money is being poured into this new company...and you and BJ are going to be fighting there.
Axel O'Murphy: BJ! That's great. I like that guy.
Berrick O'Murphy: Of course you do, Axel. He's the fruit of my loins.
Tytus looks at Berrick disgusted.
Tytus Rost: Word that differently next time.
Tytus's shaming of Berrick doesn't hinder Berrick's enthusiasm.
Berrick O'Murphy: You and BJ have been on great and different paths. You have trained with Tytus Rost and with Bob Pooler. You possess the athleticism and brains that come natural to O'Murphy Men...
Axel O'Murphy: OH-Mazing!
Tytus rolls his eyes and has heard enough. He takes control of the conversation.
Tytus Rost: You have been trained, and you are ready. It's about time we got you into a position to make this pay off. We need to get you out of these poets houses.
Axel O'Murphy: I'll always be a...
Tytus Rost: ...Fighter. You will always be a fighter. First and foremost now, you are a fighter. If you are going to represent my teachings, and Pooler's, you are now a fighter. You'd better represent us well.
Tytus Rost's glare sends a shiver down Axel's spine. Bob Pooler had always taken an intellectual approach to his training of Axel. That could be one reason that Axel is a world class wrestler...both amateur and pro. Rost, not necessarily a warm man, had taken a different approach to Axel and trained him in Sambo. Axel tried to show a brave face, but he never used those tactics, he didn't need to. Axel took the O'Murphy charm. Always likable...more than able to lead a revolution if need be.
Berrick O'Murphy: We have your contract, sent from EFC headquarters. You sign it and you have a fight this week.
Berrick pulls an envelope from his pocket and places the contract on the table, there outside the coffee shop. Axel smiles and takes the pen from Uncle Berrick and signs the contract. Axel sits back in the chair across from Tytus, he takes of his hat, his green hair falling past his ears. He fans himself with his hat.
Axel O'Murphy: Time to put my training into action. I am the complete package. I have Uncle Berrick's good looks, the education of Bob Pooler, the focus of Tytus Rost...
Berrick O'Murphy: ...and a poster of Mac Bane in your room.
Axel looks at Berrick like there's nothing wrong for a 20-something year old man to have a muscle poster on his wall.
Axel O'Murphy: What's wrong with that Uncle B. He's my favorite. One of the best of all time. I might get to meet him one day, and when I do...I'm going to ask him a ton of questions...
Axel continues to jabber on about Mac Bane as Tytus and Berrick start to walk off. Axel looks up and see's his mentors leaving. He looks at the camera and winks...he just played them like a fiddle.
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"Sugar" Shane Doyle. "Sugar" Shane. I go by the rule of thumb that most men that have sugar in their names end up being very tough. You can look at boxing and see very talented "Sugar" Rays...So, you will have my undivided attention this week in my training. You may not care, I don't know anything about you, except for your profile. I assume you are a tough guy. If you weren't, you wouldn't have been offered a contract. I want you to know that you'll be getting the whole package this week, I'm not going to hold back. I want to make a great first impression...I just hope we can be friends afterwords.
You could call me a fantastic mixture of Uncle Berrick and Tytus Rost. Perhaps that is why Bob Pooler and I got along so well...but you could also throw in there someone who is a fantastic poet and a beautiful soul...and that's me in a nut shell...except I'm crazy in the ring.
Shane, you have heard my sweet poetry. Some of the best of the decade...now you will see how sweet my fighting skills are. I can't help but think about Pete Sampras...not that I watch tennis, or care for it much, but he is out doing something and winning, that's what is commendable. He is one of the best, me too. I can't wait to unleash my sweet fighting skills on my new friend Shane. Friends can fight and be okay later, that's how we are going to be friends. I'm excited, you should be too, I'm a good friend.
Am I a southpaw? Do I prefer ground and pound or striking? I'm going to mix it up. You'd better be prepared for everything. Remember, I have the brains of an O'Murphy....Oh'Mazing.