- Joined
- Jun 13, 2009
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The wind blows
A dove flys
A man screams
it is “the notorious” Conor McGregor. It has become natural, like the waves in the ocean, or a large cattle taking a shit. The sensation is all to familiar for the once great fighter of the UFC.
He blankly stares across the room. “I guess I should try to go outside today”. He waded through hundreds of empty bottles of his own whisky, proper twelve, and made his way to the front door.
He placed his hand over the door knob, struggling with the thought of being recognized. He didn’t want the questions, he didn’t want the fans, he just wanted to be left alone.
“god damnit....”
he turned around, and headed to the kitchen to make a plate of pizza rolls. While the oven preheated he practiced shadow boxing in the mirror. “Fuck yeah....I still got it”.
End act 1
A dove flys
A man screams
it is “the notorious” Conor McGregor. It has become natural, like the waves in the ocean, or a large cattle taking a shit. The sensation is all to familiar for the once great fighter of the UFC.
He blankly stares across the room. “I guess I should try to go outside today”. He waded through hundreds of empty bottles of his own whisky, proper twelve, and made his way to the front door.
He placed his hand over the door knob, struggling with the thought of being recognized. He didn’t want the questions, he didn’t want the fans, he just wanted to be left alone.
“god damnit....”
he turned around, and headed to the kitchen to make a plate of pizza rolls. While the oven preheated he practiced shadow boxing in the mirror. “Fuck yeah....I still got it”.
End act 1
