Post by Mr Determination on Sept 8, 2022 15:55:39 GMT
*It is a gorgeous, if not hot, summer day in rural Nova Scotia, Canada. The birds are singing, the Trailer Park Boys are still making television, and it is yet another day in paradise for Mr. Determination.
Currently, out in his garden, sweat dripping off his shirtless, scarred body, The Vance looks completely zen. As he finishes putting his beefsteak tomatoes in a basket, he turns around to see the camera crew waiting for him.*
The Vance: So you boys have any trouble finding the ole place, eh? You all traveled quite a ways to see me today, so I guess I should make it worth your while. The Vance, and everyone else in the park, are extremely grateful for the opportunity.
*The Vance smiles broadly, completely genuine, and quickly drops his tomatoes off on the porch.*
The Vance: Why don’t we take a walk around the neighborhood, eh? Figure it’ll be quite some time before I see the old place again. We can take a tour, have a yarn, and I can say my goodbyes to the fine folks of Trailer Haven.
*The group strolls through the tightly packed cul-de-sac style subdivision, modern and ancient trailers, an odd mix that still had it looking reminiscent of days gone by. People are all outside today, with neighbors waving and calling to The Vance as he goes by.*
The Vance: See, I come from pretty humble stock. Around here we look out for each other, we respect each other, and we do what needs to be done. I have done some horrible things in my life because of my demons, and I’ve been trying to make up for some of it. That’s why I’m going to miss this place so much; it is my place of rebirth.
But I have a higher calling than this, and the natural abilities to back it up. It’s time to get my name out there in, have them people on the Twitter twitterin about me, to prove myself once and for all.
*The Vance stops to help a particularly old-looking couple take their compost bin back to its proper spot.*
The Vance: I appreciate ya lookin after the garden while I’m gone, Mr. Crosby. Make sure all those lovely fruits and veggies find a good home.
I’m really doing it for all these folks. This town has had my back when I was ready to set it on fire for my next fix. I owe it to every single person here to do what I was put on this earth to do; wrestle. I have my eyes set on a World Title shot already, and don’t care who I have to take down to get it.
Ya know, when I was locked up the last time, I earned a little nickname during my stay. They started calling me Mr. Determination, and it had a nice ring to it. I have the focus, I have the skills, and I most certainly have the determination to make a name for myself in the federation. Whoever they are going to throw into the ring for my first match, doesn’t freakin matter, I am going to put them to sleep.
So IIW, I may come off as a nice, polite Canadian, but never forget that fighting is in our blood, and we fight for what we want. Don’t take this Canuck lightly, or you’ll soon be used as bait for my next trip lobster fishing.
*The Vance looks around at his home with wide eyes. He knows this is going to be his last view of it for quite some time, but the sacrifices are going to be worth it. He grabs some bags already laid out on the porch, carefully stashing some of the tomatoes in one of them, and puts his fingers into his mouth. A piercing, shrill whistle erupts from his mammoth frame
Bounding out of who knows where comes a ball of fluff that couldn’t weigh more than 10 pounds soaking wet. The tuxedo cat, with a proud white floof sticking out of its chest, quickly jumps up onto the porch.*
The Vance: Hey pretty girl, you bein good eh?
*As he turns and locks the door to his trailer for the last time, a calmness surrounds the entire park. The Vance looks down at the cat, picks up his bags, and heads towards the dull grey beat-up Mazda 5 in the driveway.*
The Vance: Come on Skittles, my love, we are off on a grand adventure. Don’t be scared, Daddy is gonna make you proud.
Currently, out in his garden, sweat dripping off his shirtless, scarred body, The Vance looks completely zen. As he finishes putting his beefsteak tomatoes in a basket, he turns around to see the camera crew waiting for him.*
The Vance: So you boys have any trouble finding the ole place, eh? You all traveled quite a ways to see me today, so I guess I should make it worth your while. The Vance, and everyone else in the park, are extremely grateful for the opportunity.
*The Vance smiles broadly, completely genuine, and quickly drops his tomatoes off on the porch.*
The Vance: Why don’t we take a walk around the neighborhood, eh? Figure it’ll be quite some time before I see the old place again. We can take a tour, have a yarn, and I can say my goodbyes to the fine folks of Trailer Haven.
*The group strolls through the tightly packed cul-de-sac style subdivision, modern and ancient trailers, an odd mix that still had it looking reminiscent of days gone by. People are all outside today, with neighbors waving and calling to The Vance as he goes by.*
The Vance: See, I come from pretty humble stock. Around here we look out for each other, we respect each other, and we do what needs to be done. I have done some horrible things in my life because of my demons, and I’ve been trying to make up for some of it. That’s why I’m going to miss this place so much; it is my place of rebirth.
But I have a higher calling than this, and the natural abilities to back it up. It’s time to get my name out there in, have them people on the Twitter twitterin about me, to prove myself once and for all.
*The Vance stops to help a particularly old-looking couple take their compost bin back to its proper spot.*
The Vance: I appreciate ya lookin after the garden while I’m gone, Mr. Crosby. Make sure all those lovely fruits and veggies find a good home.
I’m really doing it for all these folks. This town has had my back when I was ready to set it on fire for my next fix. I owe it to every single person here to do what I was put on this earth to do; wrestle. I have my eyes set on a World Title shot already, and don’t care who I have to take down to get it.
Ya know, when I was locked up the last time, I earned a little nickname during my stay. They started calling me Mr. Determination, and it had a nice ring to it. I have the focus, I have the skills, and I most certainly have the determination to make a name for myself in the federation. Whoever they are going to throw into the ring for my first match, doesn’t freakin matter, I am going to put them to sleep.
So IIW, I may come off as a nice, polite Canadian, but never forget that fighting is in our blood, and we fight for what we want. Don’t take this Canuck lightly, or you’ll soon be used as bait for my next trip lobster fishing.
*The Vance looks around at his home with wide eyes. He knows this is going to be his last view of it for quite some time, but the sacrifices are going to be worth it. He grabs some bags already laid out on the porch, carefully stashing some of the tomatoes in one of them, and puts his fingers into his mouth. A piercing, shrill whistle erupts from his mammoth frame
Bounding out of who knows where comes a ball of fluff that couldn’t weigh more than 10 pounds soaking wet. The tuxedo cat, with a proud white floof sticking out of its chest, quickly jumps up onto the porch.*
The Vance: Hey pretty girl, you bein good eh?
*As he turns and locks the door to his trailer for the last time, a calmness surrounds the entire park. The Vance looks down at the cat, picks up his bags, and heads towards the dull grey beat-up Mazda 5 in the driveway.*
The Vance: Come on Skittles, my love, we are off on a grand adventure. Don’t be scared, Daddy is gonna make you proud.