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Andrew Aldway · (07-24-2013)

Andrew is sitting on a stool at a table, in a casual looking white, collared shirt and beige dress pants. The tie half hanging from around his neck and the dead look in his eyes giving the impression that he was worn out, or drunk, possibly both. The green wine bottle in front of him wobbles a little as he sets the empty wine glass heavily down on the table in front of him.

"So Luca, how did I know you would once again show your poor shaven face to talk shit about The Connection. Is there nothing else on that miniscule mind of yours? Are you honestly that blinkered? Or do we intimidate you so much that you need to be pissed just to gather the courage to talk shit?"

He shakes his head, picking up the bottle and refilling his empty glass.

"See Luca while you sit there in your drunken stupor, I'm not sure if you actually understand what you're saying so please allow me to reintegrate to you exactly some of the words you said."

He clears his throat and makes a horrible attempt at a Luca impersonation.

"A chance at winning a match with Feder and all he has to do is beat the Connection and a bunch of other shitheads that decide to sign up."

He clears his throat again, returning to his regular voice.

"So Luca, since you're obviously not part of The Connection, I'm assuming you're grouping yourself under the title shithead? Well done Luca, once again proving how little brains you have, and how much shit has replaced it, seems to me like you're finally coming around to common knowledge, good job Luca."

He claps slowly, nearly knocking his glass over as he grazes it with his hand.

"You know they say the first step to recovery is to admit you have a problem, so it looks like you may finally be on the road to regaining your brains Mr. Scarecrow. Wait a second, scarecrow never had brains in the first place did he? Besides, i don't think Luca could even find the yellow brick road if he was on a bad acid trip."

He chuckles quietly as he lifts his glass and swishes it around in his hand before setting it back down.

"I'm sorry, is that joke out of place, a little too old? Kind of sounds like your Cyren joke, outdated, but the best part is although it's outdated, it's still better than any of the rubbish you've talked recently about anyone, save maybe the single comment about yourself being a shithead."

He chuckles again, grabbing the wine glass and drinking deeply, nearly emptying the glass, before standing up and holding the bottle to his face like a microphone.

"Welcome to this weeks show, in the corner to my left, The Barmy Brit himself, ANDREEEEEWW ALDWAAAY!"

The group of people at the table behind him look at him as if he's had way too much to drink and laughter can be heard sporadically throughout different corners of the bar, but Andrew ignores it and continues.

"AND TO MY RIGHT..... HE IS XWF'S VERY OWN RESIDENT HYPOCRITICAL, ASS KISSING SHITHEAD!...... LUUUUUUCAAAAA AAAARZ........"

"Excuse me sir."

An elderly bald headed man had walked up behind Andrew during his tirade and tapped him on his shoulder in the middle of his sentence, causing Andrew to quickly turn around.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave sir."

"I understand."

Grabbing his half full bottle of wine from the table Andrew makes his way out of the bar, stopping ten feet from the bar and taking a large drink from the bottle before dropping himself roughly onto the curb.

"How cliché, a gutter, drunk as a Luca, or a bitch, whatever you want to call it, guess I'm quite the hypocrite sitting here drunk, talking about you needing to be drunk to talk shit, boy do I feel stupid."

He hangs his head down as if in shame before slowly raising it with a big grin on his face.

"But still not as stupid as shit for brains Luca."

He throws his head back and laughs hysterically as he takes the wine bottle and smashes it on the curb. Then he slowly lifts himself off the curb and slowly wobbles down the street whistling to himself as the camera slowly fades out.

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