Sam Tolsen vs Solomon Cain

("Say it you little sh*t", the shirtless Male holding a belt in his hand says. He stands over a small child, who lays shirtless on the bed. The child is Solomon Cain, and his back is covered with red welts from the lashes of the belt.

The man is Gary Michaels, Solomon's mother's current boyfriend/dealer, and a control freak. "YOU ARE GOING TO CALL ME DAD!" The man screams as he lashes ths young Solomon two more times. As the leather belt blisters the skin of Cain, he cries out in pain through his gritted teeth.

"WHAT'S MY NAME!?!" Gary screams at Solomon, but Solomon doesn't say anything. Gary grabs Solomon by the hair and pulls his head up and places his head next to Solomon's. "Say it" Gary says.

The young Solomon, sucks the snot up his noose that has come along with his tears. Tears from the pain and from knowing his Mother was allowing this. "Gary" Solomon says.

Gary screams in anger, and shoves Solomon's head back down. Gary continues with the lashes from the belt. Solomon grits his teeth even harder, and grips onto the bed he is laid over.

Solomon knows the he will not call him Dad. Solomon knows Gary will give up before he does. Solomon does not give in, and he does not break.)





(Shortly after his brutal victory over Emily Falls, Solomon is pacing back and forth in his locker room, still ready to fight. Solomon is sweaty, covered in blood, and in a pissed off mood. Solomon's leather vest is draped over a folding chair, and his shirt is off and laying on the floor.

Solomon paces back and forth, breathing heavily and angrily. Without looking at the camera or breaking his pace, Solomon begins to speak.)

Solomon Cain: Ricky Stanton... you just can't leave well enough alone can you. I won't bend a knee to you and it just eats you alive doesn't it? You want to clear the first seven rows and try to make it look like everyone leaves when I come out, what a f**king joke. Just like the top one percent to try and fool the masses. Just like Waco, just like nine eleven, just like the Vegas shootings, everyone sees through the bullsh*t and knows it's just a lame attempt at mind control through the media.

Ricky, I see straight through your bullsh*t and call you exactly what you are... A B*TCH!

(Solomon stops talking for a moment, but continues pacing. Solomon grunts, in a primal, animalistic way. Solomon gathers himself as he paces and continues.)

Solomon Cain: So, B*tch Made Stanton can't even fight his own fights, guess he is afraid of getting his manicure messed up. So, he sends a hitman, or I guess I should say a hitwoman. Samantha "The Suplex Machine" Tolson, get the f**k out of here. A girl? A girl? Ricky, you really going to send a woman to fight your fight for you?

Oh, I know Sam, I know, B*itchy Ricky didn't recruit you for help, you volunteered. I guess you are on some Katness Everdeen sh*t, volunteering for tribute. This isn't a teen fantasy novel, this is Mile High. This is my house, and I'll be d@mned if I let some hired gun, doing the rich mans wet work walk up in here and take me down.

You really think I'm buying this sh*t? You're just sticking up for Ricky Stanton out of the kindness of your heart, that you guys are just really good friends, and that you are just going to take this a$s whooping for free. Sh*t, I bet he paid for those two giant balloons on your chest, and has a fat envelope waiting for you after our match.

(Solomon stops pacing and turns to face the camera. His forehead has beads of sweat on it, and they slowly roll down his face as hs gets closer to the camera.)

Solomon Cain: The problem with mercenary work though, is you gotta complete the job to collect. So, how are you going to collect that pay day from Ricky Stanton after I knock your a$s out? He hired you to be a head Hunter, but it's your head that is going to be served up on a silver platter.

I understand that you are a former five time world champion. Sh*t, that means you were a five time loser too. Come August eighteen, I'm going to add another one and make you a six time loser. You might be a tough woman, and a decorated champion, but I'm the baddest motherf**ker in the game. You ever stop and think that there is a reason Ricky Stanton is hiring this job out?

(Solomon steps back from the camera and begins unraveling his bloody wrist tape.)

Solomon Cain: I bet you didn't think about it did you Sam? I bet you were overtaken by the green eyed monster and all you saw were dollar signs flashing before your eyes. Well at Mile High twenty one, it won't be dollar signs flashing before your eyes, it will be your life. If I were you, I'd ask Stanton to add a extra zero to the end of whatever he is paying you. Well, really, if I was you, I'd have blown my f**king brains out years ago.

Oh wait, I'm suicidal though aren't I? What else am I again? A wild dog off his leash, who needs tamed right? Well, Ricky why don't you try and put that leash on me and tame me? Why don't you try and break this wild animal? Is it because you know that I will bite the hand that feeds me? Is it because you know that I cannot be tamed? Is it because I know that it is better to die on your feet than to live on your knees?

I'd die before I'd break, and you just don't have what it takes to do that Ricky. Does Sam Tolson? Do you Sam? Do you have what it takes to break this wild animal? Are you going to do what no one else ever has been able to do, and make me bend my knee?

(Solomon throws the wrist tape he has pulled off to the floor, and steps closer to the camera.)

Solomon Cain: Let me go ahead and answer that question for you Sam. There is no f**king way you are going to break me.

(Solomon turns to his vest, draped over the folding chair. His back is to the camera for a few seconds, but he soon turns around with a lit Newport in his mouth.)

Solomon Cain: I guess I'm kind of like a Zebra. See, unlike horses and donkeys, Zebras could never be domesticated. All equids are prey species with a well-developed flight or fight response. But to survive in an environment where there is an abundance of large predators including lions, cheetahs and hyenas, the zebra evolved into a particularly alert, responsive animal that flees in the face of danger but also possesses a powerful response if captured.

The kick of a zebra can break a lion’s jaw. They can be savage biters and possess a ducking reflex that helps them avoid being caught by lasso. In oher words, zebra are not really people friendly.

(Solomon smirks as he exhales a cloud of smoke.)

Solomon Cain: I could certainly be described as, not really people friendly. A lion...THE KING OF THE JUNGLE!... Well, they know that their mouths can be shut by a Zebra, and a entitled punk b*tches mouth can be shut by Solomon Cain.

The flight or fight response... well the Lost Child has never backed down from a fight. Ricky Stanton on the other hand... is running like a b*tch. So, his proxy Sam Tolson is going to find out about this knee that can crack a skull open.

(Solomon takes a long, smooth drag of the Newport.)

Solomon Cain: The Zebra was forged by its environment, and so was I. Ricky, Sam, you two and I are products of our environment. It's a nature versus nurture. I grew up in the slums of Cleveland, surrounded by predators. I had to fight for my survival every day...just like the Zebra.

I didn't break when I was seven years old and didn't eat for days, unless I found scraps in the trash. I didn't break when I was eleven and my mom's boyfriend tried to beat me into calling him dad. Life couldn't break me, and I'll be d@mned if I let Ricky Stanton or his hired wh*re Sam Tolson break me.

I was forged in the concrete jungle, with the weight of the world crushing down on me every day, and I would not break. I held my head high, and pointed my eyes skyward, where I saw people like you. Sitting in your ivory tower on your soft a$s. Well, good for you Ricky, but not everyone gets born into a rich family, some of us actually have to earn a living and fight in life.

(Solomon takes a long and deep inhale of the Newport. He exhales slowly and drops the cigarette butt on the locker room floor, and grounds it out with his boot.)

Solomon Cain: Some of us have actually had to fight our own battles in life. I never had the money to hire someone to fight my battles for me before, I also was never that big of a pu$$y either. Stanton, don't think for a second that this sh*t between you and I ends at Episode twenty one. We are not done by a long shot.

I'm not just going to be satisfied with kicking Sam Tolsons teeth in. F**K NO! I'm not going to stop until you square up and fight me like a man. That is all you have to do, just fight me. It doesn't have to be in a ring on national television, or pay per view, if being embarrassed is what you are worried about. We can run this anywhere, the parking lot, in a closed door conference room, or sh*t a concession stand in Tupelo, Mississippi for all I care.

You got an a$s whooping, and a big reality check coming to you Ricky, and I'm just the man to deliver it. I guess I gotta go through Sam Tolson first though. I know there is always a mini boss before the big boss in the video games, so I guess that makes Tolson the mini boss.

This isn't a game though, this is real life. There ain't no f**king Contra code, there isn't a game genie for this, and there d@mn sure isn't walk through video on YouTube. AND THIS D@MM SURE AIN'T THE HUNGER GAMES!

(Solomon shakes his head, and runs his hand through his hair as he sits down on a folding chair in his locker roon.)

Solomon Cain: Sam, I get the story you are being told to tell here. You're pissed off that I choked Ricky out. You claim he's your friend, and you claim that your taking up fot his wellbeing. I get it, you'r you're here because I beat up your friend and now you have to teach me a lesson. Well, what you don't understand about people who grew up in the real world and are street smart like Zombie and I, is that we can smell bullsh*t a mile away.

Two things you need to understand. One, ain't nobody friends with Ricky Stanton unless he is paying them to be his friend, or they are a gold digging wh*re. Two, nobody is volunteering to fight me, especially for free. Who the f**k volunteers to have their skull cracked open and their blood poured all over Denver?

I don't know what is bigger bullsh*t, the thought of you genuinely being Stanton's friend, or the thought that you actually believe you are going to walk in here and suplex me all over Denver. Mile High is my yard, it's my f**king house. I've never lost on Mile High TV, and that isn't going to be changed. Especially, not by some corporate hitwoman.

(Solomon shakes his head as he laughs to himself.)

Solomon Cain: I tell you what Sam, let's see how good of friends you and Ricky are after August eighteenth. Are you still going to be his friend when he sends you like a lamb to slaughter? Is he the kind of friend that will come and visit you in the hospital, after I snap your f**king neck and send you there? Is all the money he is paying you really going to be worth it?

I know you are going to come in here and try to impress everyone by giving an in-depth presentation of your resume. I know you are going to play the bada$s role and try to tame me. And, I know you are going to say it is in the name of friendship. Just know though... that I know it is complete and total bullsh*t. Know, that I don't give a sh*t about your past accomplishments. Mostly know, that August eighteenth, you are in for the fight of your life.

(Solomon brushes his hair out of his face, and looks into the camera dead serious.)

Solomon Cain: Sam Tolson, f**k you, you f**king puppet.

(Fade Out.)