
ANGER GOLUM
We return from commercial break to see a chyron on the screen, reading “Earlier In The Day.” We are in the loading dock entrance of the MGM Grand Garden Arena, the camera following Brandon Youngblood, bag over his shoulders, muscle tee and combat shorts, sporting an expression that can only be described as pissed. The camera tries to keep up, but has trouble keeping pace with the power walk of the Tower of Babel. Taking a wide angle, the cameraperson gets in front of Youngblood, causing the former Universal Champion to stop in his tracks. An impasse. Youngblood paces forward, tossing his bag to the concrete.
Brandon Youngblood: Now ain’t the time or the place…
But the cameraperson doesn’t move. Hands on his hips before scratching his goatee, the Diamond of the ReVival sneers.
Brandon Youngblood: So that’s what you want? Don’t send Angie or Mills or Tillier?
He spits to his side.
Brandon Youngblood: The Queen says she don’t like cops. And I ain’t calling a press conference. I’m shooting this message between your eyes, Lindsay. And everyone else? You listen close.
He stands up straight, his eyes focused and intense.
Brandon Youngblood: I ain’t in Chicago. When I walk into the MGM Grand, no matter HOW MANY dipshits and scumbags and bottom feeders keep saying red this and red that…this ain’t YOUR jungle. And this ain’t a goddamn warzone. But what we got going on right now? Shitbags taking the easy road. I’m sitting in my home watching a main event between two of the best in this sport with Hayes Hanlon and Jared Sykes, and then, we’re all transported back to 2003 and it’s Abu Ghraib with chocolate. Goddamn chocolate!
The thought has him frothing at the mouth.
Brandon Youngblood: If this is what the Queen wants while she’s pissing around in SHOOT Project and DEFIANCE, then fine. PRIME’s roster of people trying to just make it in the spirit of competition? They can’t trust you. They can’t trust you to keep the peace. They can’t trust the men who are supposed to run security to make sure someone isn’t going to jump them from behind and hurt them. Cripple them. Concuss them. End their careers.
A scowl.
Brandon Youngblood: If you ain’t gonna step up? Then I will. Larry Tact? I don’t like you. I don’t respect you. And I don’t fear you. But when you get in that ring tonight? You’ll fear me. If all we got in PRIME for justice is what we make for ourselves? You came for Craig’s career. You wanted to eulogize him and bury him under the goddamn Earth like you got the balls. He was gonna walk away. But you wanted to plant your flag on him. Yeah?
His face is up close to the camera lens.
Brandon Youngblood: Plant your flag on me. Try any of that shit against me, in that ring. See what happens. Craig is good. Me? I’ll eat your heart. Leave you lying. Put you in the goddamn ground. Watch. You hear me, Jiles? You hear me, Julien? You inbred Halls and that dipshit Zion? I’m coming for you. And there’s nothing, no fines, no threats, no security, no monarchs, NOTHING you can do to stop me.
And with that, we go elsewhere.