Rodrigo Jackson is in the locker room, pulling on his fighting gear.
Rodrigo: One Shot, that's all you got. Just one shot at this match. Just One Shot, just One...Aww, Heck to this!
He stands up and throws a pair of nunchucks at the wall. He wipes his forehead, sweat dripping down it.
Rodrigo: Just go out there, and fight in your damn match. Easy as that.
He sits back down, and puts his head in his hands. He looks back up, then turns around and reaches for a photo.
Rodrigo: How am I supposed to fight this match when I can't get focused. I was supposed to do it for you, but I'm not sure I can.
He stands up and flicks the card across the room. It spins in the air and comes to a rest on the floor, face down.
Rodrigo: If only you were here right now, you could tell me how to fight this match, how to get over the fear, how to fight the fear. But your not. You left me, all on my own, left me to fend for myself, while you marketted my MMA sucess. If you'd actually paid me, I wouldn't be in this crummy situation. Then Again...
He sighs, and looks at the poster on the wall. It advertises the bygone Architects of the Apocalypse PPV.
Rodrigo: If this Federation can beat that feat, with me in it, I have a future to look foward to.
He streches down and ties his shoe laces. He stands up, and cracks his knuckles
Rodrigo: Better get this over with...
He walks towards the doorway, then stops. He glances over his shoulder and notices he forgot his gloves. He grabs his gloves and walks out of the locker room.
Rodrigo: One Shot, that's all you got. Just one shot at this match. Just One Shot, just One...Aww, Heck to this!
He stands up and throws a pair of nunchucks at the wall. He wipes his forehead, sweat dripping down it.
Rodrigo: Just go out there, and fight in your damn match. Easy as that.
He sits back down, and puts his head in his hands. He looks back up, then turns around and reaches for a photo.
Rodrigo: How am I supposed to fight this match when I can't get focused. I was supposed to do it for you, but I'm not sure I can.
He stands up and flicks the card across the room. It spins in the air and comes to a rest on the floor, face down.
Rodrigo: If only you were here right now, you could tell me how to fight this match, how to get over the fear, how to fight the fear. But your not. You left me, all on my own, left me to fend for myself, while you marketted my MMA sucess. If you'd actually paid me, I wouldn't be in this crummy situation. Then Again...
He sighs, and looks at the poster on the wall. It advertises the bygone Architects of the Apocalypse PPV.
Rodrigo: If this Federation can beat that feat, with me in it, I have a future to look foward to.
He streches down and ties his shoe laces. He stands up, and cracks his knuckles
Rodrigo: Better get this over with...
He walks towards the doorway, then stops. He glances over his shoulder and notices he forgot his gloves. He grabs his gloves and walks out of the locker room.
