The Scoop On A New Face...

the colosseums private memeber's gym has reports crawling all over the main enterence. the spot the wrestelers coming from down the streets, so familiar with this game that they know people by car. pedestrains have an impossible negotiating thier way through the sea of people 50 feet wide. one such man gets through halfway, to the opening for wrestlers to come in on, and turns up towards the door. the reporters ignore this man, knowing the amounts of people that try to pretend they are wrestlers but get stopped by the bouncer. the bouncer stands 6'8 and looks muscular enough to be upper three hundys, easily overpowering the 6'2, 230 frame the shambles closer with his head down.

"yea right, buddy" the bouncer says to the face less man, "Collosseum wrestlers only, and," laughing "I doubt that applies to you".

A few reporters chuckle, most do not having seen the scene hunderds of times before. "oh, I'm sorry," the man says in a mild mannered voice, "will this do?"

Reaching into his rope he pulls a black object out with lightning fast speed. the bouner, reacting slightly slower but fast enough, grabs the mans hand thinking its a gun or something. the man plays it cool, looks the bouncer in the eyes and once grabbing his attension leads them down to the wallet in his hand.

"heh," the bouncer laughs as he drops his hand. the man pulls out his collossum id, causing the bouncer to step aside. unnoticed by the reporters until it is too late, he walks inside...

a rush comes over the reporters to be the first to ask this new face what hes all about. the bouncer holds out his massive arms, signal enough that they're going no where. "Come on, killer," Ray Styles says "just let one of us in." Distracted by the question, a small boy, no older then 12, slips in behind the bouncer. A "woo-hoo" I heard from his friends.

"mister, mister," he yells.

"Yes?"

"Can I interview you for my paper"

Smiling, "sure, what paper? is it your school paper?"

"No, I'm starting my own paper called Neighborhod Stuff. What's your name?"

"Well, I go by the Genius."

"Why?"

"Because I'm such a good fighter and an expert in submissions."

"How did you get started?"

"Well, growing up in detriot i joing a ga... club called the wicked clowns."

"Like ICP?"

"Well, they were around before ICP, but yea. so anyway, in this club we do a lot of fighting, with other clubs," thinking about the boy being so young "but nobody ever got hurt. But then when I was 15 I had to go overseas to finish my training?"

"Were the clowns mad," while scribbling on a small notepad.

"Sorry, but I relly got to go."

"Just this one last question"

Genius squats down to look the boy in the eye. "You really got that reporter instinct, don't you? Maybe next time. What's your name?"

"Jimmy Roberts, but you can call me Scoop. My dad does."

"Ok Scoop, I got some training to do, but I'll see you later."

Although he never got a last question out of the genius, Jimmy smiled. he pocketed the notpad watching the new face get stopped three more time on his way to the training facility. Turning to face the door an the back of the bounce, a new question was raised. how do i get out...

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