CONTENT

Title: No Point
Featuring: Kendrix
Date: 3rd December 2015
Location: Shangri-La Hotel Vancouver
Show: Wrestleshow #49

The scene opens up to a dimly lit lavish hotel room. Light seeps through a gap in the drawn curtains at the right hand side of the screen to reveal high rise ceilings above an immaculately made King Size bed. The left hand side of the screen lights up at the sound of a door unlocking. Walking across the shot we see Kendrix, bearing his chest, his lower body wrapped in a white towel while throwing another towel through his wet hair. As he reaches the other side of the room, he opens the curtains slightly, brightening up the room. Returning to his bed he takes a seat on its edge, directly in the centre of the shot. Throwing his towel behind him he throws his hand through his wet locks, looking straight in front of him;

Kendrix: Alllrriiiigghhhtt maaattteee?!

Looking to his left he gestures toward the balcony with his outstretched thumb;

Kendrix: Looks like it’s a beautiful morning in Vancouver today. A bit cold, don’t get JFK wrong, but beautiful.

He takes a look out at the balcony with a surprisingly impressed look upon his face. Turning back to face the lens he crosses his leg on top of the other and leans back, both hands relaxed slightly behind him on the bed;

Kendrix: It’s been a long couple of months for JFK. Never before has he experienced the highs and the lows of an International Tour.

Holding his hand above his head he smirks before continuing;

Kendrix: Don’t get JFK wrong, it was full of highs. JFK travelled the world and got paid handsomely for it, all the while defeating the very best that the UTA has to offer and deservedly cemented his place amongst the top brass of the company.

He nods his head in smug agreement with himself before lowering his hand to his waist line;

Kendrix: The lows? To be honest with you, it’s difficult to think of one. Cos you see, the last couple of months have seen JFK defeat the likes of Bronson Box, Sean Jackson and Chris Hopper, forcing the latter to retire. But if JFK had to come up with one he would have to say the travelling has been difficult.

Moving his hand in presentable fashion gesturing towards his impressive torso he continues;

Kendrix: Now, JFK knows what you’re thinking, how can this sexy beast of a man with his impressive physique be tired?

Arching his body up straight he shrugs his shoulders and holds his arms out by his sides;

Kendrix: Well, it happens, jet lag gets to us all, even the future of the UTA himself. But you know what, it was worth it. It was worth it for three reasons.

He holds the back of three fingers up in front of the camera, counting down each coming reason in the rudest way possible;

Kendrix: JFK proved to the world that not only can he hang with the very best, but that he is better than them and belongs at the top. JFK did what he said he was gonna do and remove Chris Hopper from the UTA for good and send his old arse home for ever. But most importantly, JFK managed to get himself out of the hell hole of the United States of America!

Happily chuckling to himself for a moment, he holds his hand to his stomach, the other out flat in front of the camera, motioning for a moment to compose himself;

Kendrix: And now, JFK is back in America. He’s had the time to relax, recharge and reflect on the last couple of months. Right now, JFK is in Vancouver, Canada.

He points his index finger to his head;

Kendrix: Again, JFK knows what you’re all thinking…

He puts on a terrible red neck Texan accent;

Kendrix: Wait a minute, JFK said he’s in America, but he’s actually in Canada, God damn that lying son of a bitch, God damn him, puow puow puow

He imitates gun noises as he uses his fingers to imaginaly shoot in the air above his head before resting his hands back down on the bed and rolling his eyes;

Kendrix: Despite what you no good non-passport owning dumb fucks think, Canada is actually part of North America…Bellends! Now JFK has been here for a few days and to be honest, he’s not sure the people here are much smarter than you lot back in the US. But Claude assures me that they are. Not only can they speak another language but Canadians kick your arses at most sports on a regular basis so that’s good enough for JFK!

Grinning widely and smugly at his generalisations he strokes his hair back as it continues to drip onto his shoulders;

Kendrix: As JFK said, he’s reflected, he’s feeling good and now he’s ready for the next match in his career…Luke Dibbins.

Leaning forward, both feet grounded with his arms resting upon his legs, he strokes his beard;

Kendrix: Now, usually, in the lead up before a match, JFK not only gets his body into perfect condition, as you can see here…but he likes to play some games with his opponents.

Poking the side of his head with his index finger he twists it;

Kendrix: Mind games.

Arching his body up straight he holds his hands out in front of him and ticks off a list using his fingers;

Kendrix: Now usually, these mind games consist of a number of things. From weaknesses and insecurities to adding pressure and doubts.

Holding his arms out by his side he presents the room before him, turning his body left and right looking around before facing the centre and pointing at the lens;

Kendrix: JFK usually uses props, people or a background to help him in his quest to unsettle his opponent’s minds in order to gain control up here.

Pointing to the side of his head once more, he continues;

Kendrix: Come match day.

Stroking his beard in thought before wagging his finger in front of him he smirks;

Kendrix: But JFK has realised something. This is the first match, not even a full year into his already impressive young pro-wrestling career…where he can’t get into the mind of his opponent.

He holds his arms out wide again and presents the room before him;

Kendrix: Take a look around, it’s just a plain, albeit, very expensive and trendy hotel room, JFK and a simple hand held camera set up on the desk in front of him;

Modestly holding his hands to his chest he closes his eyes and breathes in deeply and exhaling before reopening them;

Kendrix: There’s no tricks, no bravado, no trash talk... there is simply no point in that…because JFK understands that he can’t get into your head Luke…

He shakes his head slowly before pointing aggressively toward the lens;

Kendrix: Because you are literally the dumbest person JFK has ever met.

Nodding his head he silently but clearly mouths out “you really are”;

Kendrix: You see Luke, you and JFK are nothing alike. Let’s face it, not only is JFK the literal definition of a prodigy, one of the greatest, hottest properties in the wrestling industry today, the future of the company as well as the business…he is one of the game’s most marketable commodities.

Throwing his hand through his hair he scratches his beard before jabbing his index finger in the direction of the lens;

Kendrix: Then there’s you Luke. You literally sum up everything that JFK hates about America. You’re lazy, dumb and lucky. Lucky to live in this country…because if you and your brother lived anywhere else in the world…you’d both probably have died years ago…because you just don’t have the mental capacity to survive in proper countries. Only in America huh?

Holding his hand to his stomach he lets out a chuckle at his witty remark;

Kendrix: You are nothing but a waste of humanity both inside and outside the ring. JFK has a seven year old nephew who is smarter then you…and he sniffs glue up his nose!

Rolling his eyes at that very thought he refocuses;

Kendrix: What annoys me about you though Luke is that you somehow managed to actually win UTA gold in your short time here. OK, unsurprisingly you already lost it but I’ll give you credit where it’s due…you’re a former Hardcore Champion…now that’s impressive.

Eyes widened out of disbelief he continues;

Kendrix: It’s impressive because it sums up how badly this company is run from top to bottom. JFK’s Impressed because you not only did you manage to get your foot in the door in this company, they pushed you to a point where you were a champion…hey, it’s a good marketing ploy…you represent the fans after all, let’s face it, they’re as dumb and inbred as you are!

He sticks his tongue out inside the bottom of his mouth;

Kendrix: But despite all these differences between us, JFK’s not going to say whose right and whose wrong, whose better and who’s worse;

Squinting his eyes he points both index fingers towards his chest;

Kendrix: Clearly JFK is both right and better…obvs!

Slapping the side of his head to accompany the obviousness of his last comment he continues;

Kendrix: It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because you don’t have the mental capacity to understand both what JFK’s saying and what he means.

He twirls his finger by the side of his head;

Kendrix: So JFK is going to talk to you in a language even you can understand bruv. If you lie down in the ring and let JFK pin you one, two, three…not only will you save yourself from the worst beating of your life…JFK will let you know where dem darn returd belts are!;

He says the last line in a poor red neck accent;

Kendrix: But if you don’t, JFK promises you, that after he’s done beating your dumb arse…those returd belts will be the last thing on your mind…cos you will never want to show your ugly mug around the UTA ever again!

He hold his hands open by the sides of his waist, motioning for a belt;

Kendrix: The future has spoken.

Fade Out.



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