Well

He sits on a bench inside of his gym. The gym looks familiar, it was his father’s. The walls have pictures of Kostoff bleeding, landing vicious punches, signing contracts…in essence this is a tribute to his father. Zach looks around, almost in awe, almost in anger.

 

Zach: This is where he did his training. This is where he pushed himself to be bigger and stronger.

 

Getting up from the bench, he slowly walks to the wall with the picture of his arrival in the first War Games. He smiles.

 

Zach: Fitting isn’t it? A photo of my dad making his way to that cage. He always seemed to thrive in this environment.

 

Zach: Maybe this is what I am missing out on? Or is it my dad’s direct way to his message to everyone?

 

Turning, he looks into the camera.

 

Zach: You see, for some here they remember. Direct, to the point, and even though folks here mocked him…laughed behind his back, because let’s be honest folks. Most here had zero balls to be face to face and talk shit. Most wanted to do so where he couldn’t get his hands on them.

 

Zach: Yea a few would, but most..naw. They hid and ran behind the back of the bookers. My dad lost to folks, to boost their ego. He took losses so others could look strong. Lee knew this, there was always talks about him losing to help out someone’s confidence.

 

He shakes his head.

 

Zach: Why am I bringing this up you ask? Because maybe the idea of speaking the non-abridged version of the fucking Stand is not needed to get MY point across.

 

Zach: Maybe I don’t need to be like all these other cunts here? Maybe, just maybe when I said I was here to cut my own path, maybe I needed to keep my dad’s legacy in my head.

 

He looks into the camera.

 

Zach: I’m fairly done trying to do and be something or someone that is not coded in my DNA. Why be nice and shit, when I can be a loud over the top violent man like the man Kostoff was and force my way to the top?

 

Zach: And when I say top, I mean the mother fucking top. Are there guys here that are badasses? Hell yes there is. Can I match their violence blow for blow?

 

A small evil grin crosses his lips.

 

Zach: Yes I can.

 

Zach: That leads to this wild card match. I know the other three guys are good. Not a doubt. Maybe this is the day that, well I channel my dad’s fighting spirit and just fucking lay out those fucking clowns and make my way into this cage and do what my dad couldn’t do.

 

Zach: Win it.

 

He walks across the gym floor to the bench and sits down. Looking around his grin fades.

 

Zach: Maybe I am tired of all this long talking bullshit and getting right to the point is what I needed to do.

 

Zach:  We’ll see. Win, lose, or whatever happens folks, remember there is a new horizon coming…

 

Getting off the bench he makes his way to the rack. Grabbing a pair of 50’s he begins to do a set of Hammer Curls. You hear him letting out heavy breaths as the scene fades to darkness.