A single podium with a microphone sits in front of a backdrop. A number of reporters wait with bated breath, whispering rumors of why they've been called to this press conference today. A few flash bulbs go off as the young A-Lister appears from behind the backdrop and takes his place behind the podium...

"You're probably wondering why I've called you all here today. This isn't about my latest summer blockbuster soon to hit theaters across the world and no, I haven't gotten any of my co-stars pregnant....*snickers* yet."

"Truth of the matter is, I've already conquered Hollywood, I've been to the top of the mountain over and over again winning award after award. I need a new challenge. I want to dominate an entirely different industry. That's why I'm announcing my retirement from movies, effective immediately and I will be taking my talents and good looks to the XWF, the X-Treme Wrestling Federation."

The reporters burst up out of their seats with questions and an endless stream of flashes from the cameras present flood the room.

"Now now, calm down this isn't the last time you'll see this gorgeous face grace the cover of a magazine and all over TV because soon, I'll have that US Championship gold wrapped around my waist. It's about time somebody brought some credibility and star power to that company and I'm just the guy to do that. XWF, consider yourself on notice. Colt Griffin is coming to steal the spotlight. No questions."

The star flashes that million dollar smile of his as he walks off the stage, chased by hundreds of camera flashes and yelled out questions from inquisitive reporters.

Vincent was in the back puffing on a cigarette as he listened to the man speak. Vincent already knew he didn't like the man.

"I love how you think you'll have the belt wrapped around your waist. It's rather funny. You having this little circus show and claiming something that will never happen."

"¡Aye dios mio! Es Colt Griffin! Soy un big fan, señor. Big fan. When you kissed the boy from Spider-Mang in Brokeback Mountain, you make me y mi abuela weep tears of joy."

El Tiburón squeals in delight and faints.

Ugh!

Why do you smell like boiled cabbage? Christ.... *scribbles a quick autograph on a napkin* I don't understand a word you're saying, here. Now please go away before your stench sinks into my suit...

(03-18-2014, 04:33 PM)Colt Griffin Said: Ugh!

Why do you smell like boiled cabbage? Christ.... *scribbles a quick autograph on a napkin* I don't understand a word you're saying, here. Now please go away before your stench sinks into my suit...

El Tiburón jumps to his feet and pulls a boiled cabbage sandwich out of his trunks.

"Quieres uno? Mi abuela made me extras in case I make new amigos. Amigo."

How about you face me and lose before getting ahead of yourself.

Ugh...anything to get away from this...pleb.

You think you can steal my spotlight, Swaggins? You're not in my league, and highly doubt we're even in the same tax bracket. Tell you what junior, you be my first step to greatness and I'll see about getting you an autograph.

"I have a feeling the Swaggins is going to win. Colt. I do not like and I never will. I'll be making sure you'll never have U.S. Gold ever."

"Do you know what the Dirty Jerker is? What about the Dirty Jerker Xtreme? Because I'm going hit Colt with both of them. Followed by the Perp Walk. Because he's my bitch. Colt, you do not know me, boy, but I was a Police Detective for the city of Detroit, and I was terminated from that job for being too violent. Take that in."

"Wow Swaggy, you all but whipped your dick out and swung it in his face." Alexandra shook her head, before turning to Colt. "Wow, another egotistical jackass, just what this company needs." Alexandra brought her hand up to cover her mouth, laughing. She speaks again this time in French. "Wow, tellement bravade, je me demande si c'est parce qu'il a une petite bite?"

"Sorry, Cally. It's not because I have a small dick. It's because I'm feeling lucky and I wanna beat this punk. If I acted nervous and scared I'd have lost to you, or your friend Dyson. Beaux seins."

"Ah quelqu'un qui parle français. S'il vous plaît, venez avec moi. Je veux parler à quelqu'un qui a de la classe et quelqu'un qui a un cerveau."

He said as he started to walk away as he lit up a new cigarette

"Swaggy, that comment wasn't about you. I was referring to the size of Colt Griffin's dick. We all know you don't have one Swagmire." She laughed, before turning to Vincent. "Ah, oui, je fais parler le français. Mais je ne sais pas si il est sûr de vous suivre." She giggled softly, before speaking to Vincent again. "Juste derrière vous." She turns back to Swaggy and Colt. "Gentleman." She follows Vincent.

"Peut-être qu'il est ou peut-être il n'est pas. Vous aurez juste à trouver mon chéri."

Vincent said as he walked away from the other two.

"Oui, peut-être. Mais là encore, je ne pourrais pas être ce que vous attendiez soit.." She follows him.

"Well congratu-fucking-lations Swaggy. You got fired! Maybe you can go and join half of that shit hole of a city in the unemployment line.

Maybe you don't know who the hell I am. I am Colt Griffin. The brightest star this company has brought in in a loooong time. I have been hailed as the second coming of Brando,and I've won more awards than I can count. I rub shoulders with Hollywood's elite and they ask for my autograph!"

" You think because you're 6'4 275 lbs, you're going to beat me, just like that? You've got it all wrong there needle jockey, I'm so fast, you're not going to even realize I just dropped you on your head. And when you wake up in the hospital, Swaggings, and you begin to regain simple motor functions, I hope you realize that years from now, you'll be featured in my DVD's as the first stepping stone to one of, if not the greatest XWF superstar, of all time."

OOC: I'm not sure if cursing is allowed in these or not. I apologize if not and will edit it out if I need to.

- clap clap clap -

exactly what I need, another guy wanting my title =(
Do someone pay you?

"Better get used to it, Champ. You've got a rematch coming up soon but I don't care if it's you, Mr. Radio or freakin' Al Pacino. I will have that belt. I will take my rightful place atop of the XWF."

"I think I can beat you because you're not any good. My size isn't why I'll beat you. My little brother can beat you and he's 5'6. Hell, Callaway can beat you with her two pretty little hands, and her pretty little smile. Goddamn, Cally, you all up in my head and shit. Fuck, you are gorgeous.