Description: Where on earth did they did up this guy? Sterling and company roll up to interview Mr. Jones, who apparently had forgotten that they were even coming. The man shares his political views and spouts more outdated lingo than an old hippie businessman. Also, Jones tries to get a robotic, stoic assistant to dance. Oh god.
Metro City can be a lot of things, it can be a warzone to some, a place to do all manner of illegal business to a few, and to some it can even be a home. Johnny Jones is one of the latter, after his Hollywood career crashed and burned, the funky martial artists went back to the basics of traveling from city to city righting wrongs wherever he saw them and protecting the helpless, the needy and the poor. He adjusted remarkably well from the high rolling style of an actor to sort of a homeless bum that was living in his car, Jones would do everything there, from sleeping, to brushing his teeth and combing his afro.
As it so happened however, this rough and tumble lifestyle toughened him up a lot, too much one could even say. By the time he decided that he needed to get back to the Fighting Industry, he was so hardened by his self imposed Robin Hood style that he tore through almost all of his matches immediately making a name of himself in SNF. The ex actor earned enough money quickly and got himself situated in Metro City, which he felt needed his presence the most with all the rampant crime.
Relishing in the fame of his streak of victories, it is no surprise that the camera crews are once again searching for Jones Johnny Damon, the failed actor who is making his name known once again in the tabloids, though in the fighting world he's less known for Mr. Jones and more for 'that scary guy with the afro'. Of course, Mr. Jones has always been notorious for his eccentric nature and his incredible goofy blunders so it should come to no surprise that when the crew knocks on his door, they are greeted by Jonesy opening the door angrily wearing a bath rub and twirling a nunchuck.
"Freaking kids! I done told you I don't want none of your scout girl coo---" He freezes as he stares, eyes wide beneath his shades with realization. "...oh snap! That was today? Hold on!" *SLAM* He shuts the door on the camera guy's nose and exactly two seconds later he is opening it again dressed in a tux. "Come in, come in! Take a load off." He says with a wide flashy grin welcoming the crew to his humble, and very messy, adobe. Littered with old movies starring himself, clothes, disco balls, platform shoes, a wide arrange of martial art weapons like tonfas, nunchuks, bo staffs and hey..if the crew looks carefully there's even a picture of fellow martial artist and actor Fei Long with darts all over it. But he is quick to throw that away from view.
The man standing before Mr. Jones' doorway is...speechless. His blue eyes are wide with lifted brows. What on earth is going on...? Before he can even process it, the door is slammed in his face. Two of the guys behind the blonde shrug at each other, one with a camera slung over his shoulder, the other burdened with all sorts of cabling and booms. The door swings open again, and now, none of the three men are sure that they're seeing what they should be! The bathroom just...turned into a nice tuxedo! He certainly couldn't have changed THAT quickly, could he?
"Ah..." The voice comes from the blonde man in the lead. For a slim guy, he has a disturbingly deep, rich voice to him, akin to one you would normally expect to be voicing over movie promotions. "Mister... Mister Jones?" He clears his throat, tugging his tie's knot back up and working to straighten the whole thing out a bit. "I'm sorry if we interrupted anything." He follows the invitation in, but he doesn't look around. His attention is focused on the afro-adorned man himself. The other two, being far slopp--more casual in attire, look around with no small amount of wonder. "Wow, is that a dis--"
Smack!
Lauritz is quick to swat the larger man with the back of his hand, right in the chest. It's enough to get him to quiet down and try to stand up a bit straighter.
"You...didn't receive our call this morning, I take it?"
Oh those guys can stare at his disco balls all they want really, that's what they're for you know? Stare deeply into them and let the funk consume you. "Nah! Sorry, I didn't!" Tha' Jones says with a shrug of his broad shoulders dusting his tux, a sharp contrast from the disaster that is his compact house. "Got into a scuffle this morning and my cell got flattened, don't think it's gonna be doing no one any good now." From the bath robe he was wearing literally seconds earlier, he rummages through the pockets to show bits and pieces of what once used to be a cell phone. He stares at it for a second and tosses it over his shoulder hitting something in the background that sounded like the hiss of a cat. "Them Mad Gear punks, I'm telling ya." Such is life in Metro City after all!
But enough ambling around. "Have a seat, make yourself comfortable." Says Mister Jones pointing to a large sofa that is littered with things and brushes them aside. He himself goes to situate himself on a stool right in front of it. "I'm ready for my close up! Make sure to get my good side now." A grin flashes as so do his shades, which he wears even indoors. "Oh wait, I have no bad sides."
Once an arrogant actor, always an arrogant actor.
Oh, the balls, they do call out! The cameraman's eyes just drift over on their own, drawn by their reflective brilliance! Why, even his hair is starting to look a bit more full...but surely it's just a trick of the light!
"My apologies, then." Lauritz is just a block of ice here, an immovable mask of professionalism. He reaches into his jacket, fishing out a pristine iPhone. It has a bumper on it already, with a giant screen. It looks like it must have cost quite the pretty penny! "Then please, take my phone." He holds it out, the expression on his face deadly serious.
As bidden, the other two get their seats, parked on the edge of the nearest couch after setting their gear down. Lauritz lets out a soft sigh and his mouth opens to berate them, but before he can do so...
"Hey! Why didn't you guys get me?" Suddenly standing in the front door is an older man, looking like he'd be in his late 40s or early 50s by the greys and whites running through his beard and short-cut hair. He's adorned in a peach-colored sweater and jeans; a stark contrast to the blonde that first greeted the veteran actor. Speaking of which, the newcomer locks his eyes on the two seated hands. "What the hell are you doing? Come on, we've got to set up. Up, up!" As he commands the slackers, Lauritz himself looks back toward Jones with a small frown. "I'm really very sorry for the racket."
Mister Jones' cool facade shatters abruptly when this Lauritz fellow flashes a smancy fancy iPhone and just forks over the expensive thing over to Jones. "What? Really?" The actor is speechless, sure he is no stranger to fortune but it has been so long since he had something so expensive, it has been years since his career pretty much ended and now luxury of that nature is just a foggy memory. Even so, he doesn't want to look like a beggar taking people's hand me downs and doesn't reach for it immediately. Instead he just curiously grasps the iPod, raising his shades to examine it. "Daayum..never had one of these before." Not surprisingly, Mister Jones is a very retro guy and by the time these things came out he wasn't in a position where he could afford one, dude is permanently stuck in the 70's.
As he fiddles with the thing, he fails to notice the appearance of a fourth member of the crew, far more experienced that the two bumbling camera men. Loud noises and people arguing in the background are quite the common thing for the actor, turned street brawler, turned entertainer again and with his snazzy iPhone he barely notices what's going on around him. "S'cool, you guys take your time." He says to the side whilst he pokes at the screen. "Cool! I can play music on this! That's far out man.." It's like traveling to the future for the retro dancer! Leaving the crew to their own devices for a while he concentrates on his new little toy, almost forgetting all about the interview. Already thinking of all the things he can do with the iPhone. "Ain't no way I'm letting that Mad Gear trash touch this."
Lauritz is...he's taken aback by the man's reaction to such a bauble. His stone visage finally cracks as a look of restrained shock tries to pull at his features. Ah, but that would be the second time now, wouldn't it? He is obviously used to dealing with more...business-like people! "You're... You're very welcome, sir." He watches as Jones fiddles with the thing. Before long, his personality compels him to try and help the man out, to point out features, to show him where to tap, glide, and hold. The thing already has an internet radio station on it, and he helpfully shows him how to search for, say, funk stations.
All the while, the ruckus behind him continues unabated. A pair of cameras are set up: high-quality things, looking new and well-cared for. Boom mikes are set up as well, with everything taking place on the comfortable couch that the two hands were sitting on earlier. Without asking, they start moving things around in the immediate area, with the older man directing certain weapons to be set in JUST the right way. "Can't we get SOME kind of cover for this couch?" can be heard at one point, shortly before questions about the disco ball rise up.
And then, while Jones is playing with his new toy, the older gent comes before him!
"You're Mister Jones, right? Sterling, Sterling Pamperton. A pleasure to meet you!" He extends a strong hand forward for a shake. The scent of whisky is still on his breath, which might explain why he was lagging behind the others.
Good thing that Lauritz didn't flat out state that the iPhone has internet access, otherwise Mister Jones might have blabbered out 'what's Internet?' like a total dinosaur. He lives in the past, that's for sure, but to what extent Lauritz and the camera crew are yet about to find out.
He makes no attempt to stop any of the guys to mess with his things. As far as he is concerned they are making him a favor by dusting up the place and make it look regal, why, if he weren't as distracted right now he'd be thanking them for putting his bo staffs, nunchucks and tonfas up on the racks where they belong since when he finishes practicing with them Jones just tosses them on the floor.
"Hmm?" Just as Mister Jones was looking up 'Funky Togetherness' on the iPhone, he looks up to the man extending a hand and puts the thing away so it stops distracting him and he can get down to business "What's up?" He reaches for the man's hand and gives it a good hard shake, a sign of a man that opens up easily, the scent of whiskey is noted but ignored. "That's me baby. Mister Jones Johnny Damon, but I'm sure you already knew that. Please to make your acquaintance Mister Sterling. If I may ask what kind of questions do you have for me today?"
It's actually pretty impressive! By the time the 'stage' is set, the area around the couch has been immaculately cleaned! There's just this...this square of cleanliness where the carpet is even brighter and fluffier. The couch is covered in a fabric cover that's similar to its old color, tucked in tightly. Two bo staves are set behind it at forty-five degree angles, while a centerpiece of weaponry hangs on the wall: crosses sais, meticularly-aligned nunchaku, everything! A squat table has been brought in if there wasn't one before, and upon it are a decanter of iced water, empty glasses, and a pot of flowers. Lighting has been set up to bathe it all in a soothing white from all angles, making any shadowing minimal.
"Of course! I had the pleasure of watching some of your matches lately, and let me say, it's just been amazing." He pulls his hand back and makes his way toward one end of the couch. Smoothing out the seat of his pants first, he has a seat and pours himself a glass of water.
"A little bit of this and that: about your style, where you learned it, some of your recent fights, maybe a little abour your movie history." He sits back with his glass as the cameramen adjust their gear in the very small space that they have available, trying not to tip anything over as they're forced to back up against the far wall. "Are there any topics I should avoid?" he asks, patting the couch he's on. "Have a seat." In the meantime, Lauritz gestures toward the sofa as well, then pours a glass before handing it to the 'dinosaur' fighter.
Dang! Now it's Jonesy's turn to be utterly speechless. Do these guys work fast or was he distracted for longer than he thought with his brand new toy? He looks behind Sterling to see what was once his sofa turned into a seat worthy to accommodate the actor's buttocks. Everything looks so spotless, hell, he doesn't even remember having sais before, how did those things got there? If they're gonna do this every time they get here, he should try to get into as many interviews as possible. Then again, with Mister Jones' lifestyle it's a wonder if it lasts that way for more than a day.
The fighter stands up and eagerly goes to sit down on the freshly cleaned sofa quite eagerly, he can even be heard muttering 'This is awesome' quite childishly. He bounces slightly on the pads and then slides to the center where the lighting hits him better. At the very least Mr. Jones is an experienced actor and entertainer, so despite his utter lack of knowledge with modern culture he is very experienced when it comes to being filmed, Jones strikes a relaxed pose and crosses a leg being a natural at this.
"Glad you enjoyed! Only the best for my fans after all." Or what's left of them. "I'm eager to see what other things SNF can cook up." He thanks Lauritz for the glass of water and sips on it as he listens to Sterling talk. "No, not really. Feel free to ask me anything, I ain't got nothing to hide." Laughs he softly as he leans back on the couch. "I was kinda hoping things could get a little political, got a few things to say about the situation in China." Oh, despite being a total retro guy he stays on top of international news. "Don't know if that's kosher."
Sterling would expect nothing less! As a fellow man of the screen, Sterling would be very disappointed if his interviewee froze up, or worse. He gestures toward one of the assistants with a flip of his hand. The wordless command beckons him over, pulling a small flask from his breastpocket. The older gent extends his glass, letting the younger man pour in a bit of the old liquid courage. The clear liquid flows through the water, mixing into an indistinguishable relaxant. The flask is screwed shut and replaced...and during all of this, someone else helps powder up the fighter's face, primping his afro to utter perfection! These last-second tasks make the room a flurry of activity. After all is done, the extras clear out of the filming area. There's a cue called: three, two...
Suddenly smiling brightly and with his drink set down, Sterling introduces himself, going on for a bit about Jones and his history. There are pauses there, apparently, clips of his old films will be inserted in editing. "It's really great to have you with us today, let me tell you. I don't think it's too big a stretch to say that you're the fastest-rising star in the fighting world, if recent Saturday Night Fight shows are any indication!"
Mister Jones' 'fro is already perfect, thankyouverymuch, unlike the rest of his room/job/life/current financial status or what have you, that's the only part of him that can always be counted to be reliable. Still, if they wanna preen at it some more he doesn't stop them, nor does he shy away from the make up as those who are unaccustomed to pose for the cameras would. This is his home away from home, the second most comfortable place for Jones is in front of a camera, the first one is of course, inside a ring.
A grin as things start rolling and he goes into actor mode. It's like riding a bike, one never forgets how to act in an interview. "Glad to be here." The martial artist snaps his fingers pointing to the camera, waiting as he sure guesses what kind of documentary they're gonna do for the interview. The only thing he dreads is that they at least pick the good scenes from Enter the Groove Master, his most popular blockbuster and not his most recent fiascoes that ended his career. When things shift to his recent fights he fixes his tux and passes a hand across his fluffy hair. "Well, I don't mean to brag." Who is he kidding? He's totally bragging. "But it's impossible to beat a man with this kind of rhythm." The funk is strong in this one.
It has been a long, long, LONG time since Sterling's had to interview someone like -this-. The lingo, the hair, the lifestyle! It's so funny that even he can't help but crack a small smile. But hey! Maybe it's just Jones' stellar personality becoming infectious. He IS very charismatic, after all!
"Well, it's hard to argue with the results, isn't it? Your nearly-flawless record is making a lot of people rethink they way they look at fighting, where old, established styles are seen as the strongest, the most powerful." He sits forward in his seat a little bit, dropping both hands into his lap. His palms clasp and fingers thread between one another.
"I ran into a lot of haters of my style when I first started my career too back in the day, it ain't nothing new." Mr. Jones eases into the questions with the grace and flair of one who is accustomed to such things, not going to see him stutter or getting any kind of stage fright from this guy, he relishes every second of this! But is more than just arrogance (although that has to do with a good deal of it) he does have a lot of things to say. "Although back then Jeet Kune Do was kind of a new thing, little did people realize that it was just the most basic ideas of Kung Fu without the flair. No fancy moves or prepping up for attacks or nothing, just letting yourself go with the flow and allow the funk guide you. Having an established fighting style helps, but in a pinch you gotta do what it works and if that means doing simple but effective things, you can't let the teachings of your dojo get in the way of victory."
He leans back and strikes a pose, a half a smile, shades flashing with the beam of the light and he clasps his hands looking formal. "A lot of people used to think that all my fights were special effects. Truth of the matter is.." He leans forward, talking directly to the camera. "I am the special effects."
Oh, one can almost HEAR the eyes rolling. But Sterling, he takes it all in stride, holding a polite smile on his face. He doesn't judge, no. Instead, he has the courtesy to look very amused! "So this Jeet Kune Do," he starts, leaning forward a little more. One of the cameras pan in on Jones' face, just at the right angle to catch the gleam on his shades. "Is it something you came up with, or did someone teach it to you? How long did you have to train to get to where you are?"
Off to the side, Lauritz is scribbling in his notebook. Occasionally, he'll rip out a page and show it to Sterling as some sort of makeshift cue card.
Hey, part of being in an interview is putting a good show, and if he can get a few laughs while making himself look good, Mr. Jones will not hesitate to do it. It's always a spectacle when it comes to Mista' Jay, be it in the battle ground or infront of a camera. "No, I'll admit I didn't come up with it. It's a mesh of anything that works, a bit of boxing here, some judo for take downs, muay thai for kicks n' stuff ya know? However you can't be mixing all them fighting styles without having a base, and for Jeet Kune Do, this base, this /foundation/ that holds everything together. Its Kung Fu, refined to perfection. It's based on /the/ mother of all martial arts, the oldest fighting system known to man, when we, as humans, evolved from swinging sticks and clubs and developed a proper fighting system it was these set of movements that we used to ourselves from one another." He sips at his water. "Just like myself, my style goes way back, it's hella old school." Cue more groans from the audience for sure.
Then he leans back again, his goofy grin gone as he suddenly looks serious, a strange sight to his usually very laid back face. "That's why what's going on with China irks me so much. The irony of it is just all kinds of lame." Eloquent as always about the current politics Jonesy.
At the very mention of China, Sterling takes on a little half-grin. One corner of his mouth tucks up into that silver-bearded cheek as he sits back, both of his hands lifted with steepled fingers under his chin. By that time, his expression is completely back to normal--serious, even. "Yes, a lot of eyes are on them, wondering just what's going on in there. Of course, with the People's Republic cracking down on their journalists and all, it's hard to paint a clear picture." He leans back a little more, dropping one hand to his lap while gesturing toward Senor Jones with the other hand. "What do -you- think is really going on in there?"
"I'm glad you asked" Johnny Jones' shades flash under the light of the cameras as it is revealed that, yes, he has a very loud opinion on the current politics of the world. He can be a bit aloof at times, with all his obsession with dancing and fighting, but the truth of the matter is he has a serious side, otherwise he wouldn't have taken to a life of fighting crime.
"I know and listen, I've kept my mouth shut about it for a while 'cause I didn't want to bring any heat on me, but I think this is the right time." Time, to put in his funky cents and just throw caution to the wind, it is time to enter the political venue and let his word be known. "It's whack!" At least as eloquently as he can... "I mean, how you gonna tell a brotha' he can't fight because some dude got salty over losing and blew himself up!? You feelin' me? I mean, that's like, outlawing Basketball because an NBA stadium got blown up. It'd be a tragedy, of course it would, but what do the kids playing down the street have to do with it? It ain't their fault mang. That's stuff they gotta bring up with the TSA folk, knaw what I'm sayin'? They knew homie was a psycho, why didn't they pad him down?" A shake of his head and he's taking a sip of his water.
"I know China has had a lot of problems with their government being all outta whack but seriously? Outlawing martial arts? In /the/ birthplace of Kung Fu? It's an insult to everyone in the world, not just martial artists in general. It's clear they've forgotten what martial arts are all about."
He digs into the pockets of his tux and pulls out some flash cards. "I even wrote somethin' about that but it's kinda lengthy, do we have enough time on the interview?" At this he goes to look at Lauritz since he apparently is on top of stuff.
Amazingly, Sterling seems able to keep up with Jones and his archaic manner of speaking! Even he was alive when disco was king, you know. His arms fold across his chest as he sits back, letting the man talk and talk. And talk! Quiet "mm-hm"s and "oh sure"s come and go with simple nods of his head, his attention always completely captured. The cameras--both of them--zoom in on Jones now; one gets a nice close-up shot of his head (afro and all), while the other pans back a little, capturing the body language that comes with his ranting.
When the cards are pulled out, however, Pamperton blinks! Looking momentarily taken aback, he looks toward Lauritz as well. "Aah..." Lauritz himself looks at his watch, then lifts a hand, extending and curling all five fingers twice. Ten minutes? A smirk comes across Sterling's face.
"Go on, speak your mind! The worst that can happen is some of it gets cut in editing, right?" Oh, a chatty guest is always a good thing, at least when they're talking on highly-controversial topics. Everyone loves that sort of thing, and the headlines are going to be on FIRE.
Mr. Jones laughs slightly at the comment about editing "Just don't be putting words in my mouth that I didn't say okay?" He knows how can reporters be, but he figures these guys wouldn't be interviewing fighters with the intent of giving them a bad rep, Jones isn't saying that he will track them down and beat them within an inch of their lives, but hey, some would is all.
Right then, Lauritz is given a glance as he says that he only has ten minutes. He looks at his flash cards and eh, whatever, shrugs and tosses them aside. He knows this by heart anyway.
"Lemme tell you a story about a crazy cool cat." Mister Jones begins. "He went by the name Bodhidharma." A tongue twister which Mister Jones says perfectly despite his ghetto accent, but he has a way of not confusing folks at home, he's an entertainer after all! He knows how to keep it real. "Now Bodhi ain't no regular guy. He's the song of a King in India, best warrior in the army, conqueror of thousands of battles, he's got everything a dude could want; women, money, power. But he's also a Kalaripayyatu master. Now for those not in the know, Kalari is an Indian martial art that is thousands upon thousands of years old, the very first martial art created by mankind." He flicks his finger at the camera, looking at it seriously. "And no, it ain't what my homie Dhalsim uses, his is Yoga, that's different."
Then back to Sterling "Anyway, Bodhi don't want none of it, he's a martial artist and knows that riches n' stuff like that don't mean nothing in the end. But his father ain't too pleased about him getting down with the groove and banishes him, right?" A chuckle and he sips his drink "So this guy, check it, this guy /walks/ the Himalayas right outta India and into China! Then he goes to live with some monks so he can become more at peace with his inner self. But, these monks, Bodhi's all like "you guys are pretty frail, all you do is write all day" they're bodies can't take spiritual enlightenment. Ya feeling me? So what's a cat to do? He teaches them Kalaripayyatu which of course, the Chinese monks thinks sucks and call all them exercises 'Hard Work'.
Jones just kind of sits there for a second glancing at everyone in turn, like he knows something they don't, and indeed, he might. "You wanna know how you say hard work in Chinese?"
A pause to build up tension.
"Kung Fu"
So, what does that have to do with anything. Jones doesn't say yet, he wants to hear what the others have to say yet. Maybe they get fed up with him and decide to finish the interview abruptly.
What DOES Kung Fu have to do with this? Sterling starts to furrow his brow and fold his arms, his lips twisting into a concentrated frown. "I actually didn't know--" His attempt at speaking is interrupted by the sudden question. This is not going well; he's starting to lose control of the interview!
"Well, I--"
Ah. Kung Fu. The older man is quiet for a second, just to make sure that Jones isn't going to pipe up again. Will he get the chance to talk this time? His mouth opens slowly, just to be sure.
"Well yes, but that was what...hundreds of years ago? There are lots of things done throughout history that aren't proper anymore: pirating, slaving, things of that nature." He gestures toward Mister Jones with both hands uplifted, palms up. "And to be fair, China HAS had a lot of trouble lately: assassinations of their beloved General and other rising figures in their government. Don't you think there might be some sort of truth for their worries?" Not that he actually BELIEVES any of that, but hey, playing devil's advocate can often pull out some interesting replies.
"It don't matter." It's Jones' very simple response, he shakes his head with a pout of his lips and waves his hands standing resolute in his ideals "It.don't.mantter.none." He enunciates every syllable putting as much emphasis as he can. "Whatever happens millions of years into the future ain't going to affect what has already happened in the past, no matter what, short of time travel I guess. See, it's like a sand castle. First you put your foundation and then you start piling stuff on top of it like sea shells, flags, toy soldiers, whatever, don't matter. The second you start messing with the foundation though, everything collapses, you got nothing left."
"It's the same thing here." Mista Jones continues. "People have forgotten that martial arts aren't about woopin' suckas. It's about spiritual enlightenment, being at peace with your inner self, they were originally just cardio for crying out loud. That peeps figured out a way to bust fools up, was and has always been irrelevant."
"That's what this generation has forgotten mang, you got all these hot headed young punks out with something to prove and they forget that their fighting style is just a tool to make themselves a better person. It's been corrupted beyond recognition. Suckas like Vega n' company, that try to use martial arts to take over the world, that's the problem. Not everybody else practicing their forms at their dojo. Why do they have to pay for the arrogance of a few?"
This is starting to get pretty heated.
"And see, that's what a lot of folks are forgetting!" Sterling scoots forth in his seat now, one hand balled up into a fist save for the outward-pointing index finger. "It's not the fighting -itself- that's causing all this trouble, it's the people misusing it!" He slams a fist into the palm of the other hand, bringing out a clear smack of flesh upon flesh. "But you see, it's just like gun control. Sure, some people cause trouble with it, but does that mean that nobody should have one? A lot of nations outright outlaw firearms unless you're an officer of the law. How is outlawing fighting--which can arguably be just as deadly--any different?"
And this time, it's Sterling that doesn't wait for an answer before continuing. His voice is stern, his words quick. "Tell me then, how would you handle the situation, if you were in their shoes? If you had millions upon millions of people to protect, what would your reaction to the Beijing bombing been?"
"That's what I'm saying!" Why, Mister Jones could have high fived Sterling right there and then if didn't mean that he'd knock a few lights in the process with his afro accidentally. Plus he has to stay put on his seat otherwise it's going to look like he's moving off camera.
There's a few nods of approval though, making it clear that the Jones is in agreement with that attitude. "Finally someone that sees it my way! 'Cause, like I said I haven't talked about it with nobody, but when I overhear talk everyone is all so wishy washy, they refuse to take a stand in this mess!" He leans back though and crosses his leg again giving a bit of shrug "Eh, actually I don't think it's the same as guns. Any crazed fool can just pick up a magnum and shoot up a place. You need years upon years of practice to achieve that kind of level with fighting, just because it /has/ the potential to be incredibly dangerous, doesn't mean that people are gonna achieve that height."
He wiggles his finger "And that's the thing. Because when a cat has reached that level of fighting skill, they also should have achieved a mentality that tells them it ain't the right thing to do. Just look at me, I waltz into any grocery shop or whatever and beat the tar outta any untrained fighter. But would I do it? No, 'cause when you've been down with the groove as much as I have, you know that ain't cool."
Then there's the harder question, what would he do to fix it? It's easy to complain but has he offered any insights about it? "Eh...man, I'll admit that's a tough one." Jones rubs his chin. "You know, there's really no easy answer. I could say they can try to regulate it ya know? Put government owned dojos and every high skilled practitioner needs to carry a permit but, that ain't really freedom." The man sighs, looking at a loss of words at last. "For sure, I'd at least not allow chi blasts in public. That stuff can be pretty freakin' dangerous."
Indeed, complaining is always the easiest part! But to actually fix things? Jones is certainly no politician. He is a martial artist, an actor, a showman. But a political negotiator? Certainly not. Sterling eases back into his seat as the fervor passes, his chest swelling with a deep breath that's expelled with a long, heady sigh. He reaches for his drink, tipping back the last of his blended concoction.
"Well, enough about that, for the moment. Let's focus on you for a while, instead. Tell me, you've been very popular lately, as I've said, so you must be making a decent living for yourself." He pauses, briefly, reflecting on the current location. Without dropping stride, he continues: "But did you always want to fight for a living? You used to be quite the actor; did you ever want to go back to that sort of career?"
Hey! Don't sell him too short! Mr Jones could totally be a big time operator if he wanted to, with the way he pleases the crowd and makes a spectacle of everything...yeah no, politics aren't really for him, he has his philosophical side but he can't get tangled up on that mess.
Leaning back as the rush of that heated argument leaves him, the funky fighter reaches for his own drink and finishes his water, wiggling the glass a little to Lauritz signaling he wants a refill. Mister Jones may have been living in poverty after his acting career failed but he remembers what it feels to be pampered, ooh, he remembers it too well.
"Yeah, enough about the world, let's talk about me." Actors, really. He fixes the collar of his tux and flashes another grin making a pose for the cameras. "Honestly mang, when I first started taking martial arts, it didn't even occurred to me I could use them to fight. All I wanted to do was be those guys there in the big screen doing crazy stunts like flying in the air and doing twists n' stuff. It wasn't until I got into my real fight with some street punks that it all..just..came out naturally. Fighting for the cameras and fighting down at Metro City are two *very* different things my friend, back there you get tackled, pushed to the ground and beat over the head with a bottle." Almost out of reflex he reaches for his comb and starts fixing his afro as if the very thought of it messed with his curly locks. "Not a whole lotta room to maneuver ya know? But I figured, hey, I can actually pull this stuff in the streets, if I can help people with it well...why the hell not? Far too many douche bags out there in the world, somebody's gotta put haters in they place, and if that someone's gotta be me then, so be it."
That's right. Jonesy adjusts his suit a little and a frown can be seen at the thought of him getting into the film industry again. "Eeeh..well yes and no. I'll admit that the life style was nice, but you also gotta deal with jacked up, full of themselves prima donnas. Like Fei Long." Ooooh diss!" Daaaayyyuuum! Hahaha! Don't..err..Don't use that." They said they were editing this right? Right!??
Lauritz has that glass filled almost before Jones can even realize it! He's a master at getting into the scene without actually getting into view of the camera; it's like the cameraman swings a couple of inches to the side, and at that very instant, the blonde man is pouring up a new glass. By the time the camera swings back, he's gone! It's just like magic. Magic!
And then, Sterling is unable to hold back a hearty, deep-chested chuckle. "No no, don't worry, we're not live." He looks at the camera and swipes his fingers across his throat; nothing more than a simple gesture to cut the segment in question. A clearing of his throat helps him regain his composure and Lauritz begins counting down from four. Everyone's got that much time to get back into the interview while leaving plenty of time for the editors to cut the insult out. MAYBE.
"I'm sure the people of Metro City appreciate the help. Records show that the crime rate has been unreasonably high, despite Mayor Haggar's best efforts. Have you ever thought of joining the police force, then, maybe get sanctioned? Or do you see yourself throwing yourself into the rings until you retire?"
Maybe will have to do, Mister Jones isn't scare of Fei Long but he'd rather not make an ass out of himself in national television by talking smack about much more successful actors, it'll just look like he's jealous. Right now, he just focuses on the drink Lauritz serves him, it may look like all his arrogant actor flair is coming back up by not even acknowledging the man, but he does it on purpose so that it doesn't look like he's thanking someone off camera.
As he sips on his drink he nearly spits it when Sterling goes on and proposes the very daft thing of him joining the police. "Are you kidding me?" He wipes his mouth with a napkin "Tha' Jones? With the popo? Not happening bro, that means I'd have to play by their rules and their rules support stuff like what's happening in China. Uh uh, Imma do my own thing, although now that I'm back playing in the big leagues and wooping some butt maybe I can join one a them fighter associations, I hear they got dental." If the camera zooms in at the right angle it even looks like Jones lost a tooth recently, probably knocked out of him, though it has been replaced with a gold implant. "In fact that's half the reason I wanna show up in TV more, I wanna put my name out there and see if there's any organization that might wanna help a brudda out."
Mr. Jones also adds "Anyone but Shadaloo though, tch, I still got my principles."
Sterling raises an arm a little, but stops far short of coming up to cover his face, since it seems like Jones won't actually be spraying him down. It looks like he's safe! Still, that sort of reaction wasn't really what he was lookiung for. In fact, if he continues this line of questioning, he thinks that Mister Jones here may start to paint himself in more a negative light than the program is really looking for.
"Okay, there's nothing wrong with that! And believe me, if you keep performing like you have been, big things are going to happen!" He tugs down on the hem of his sweater, then brushes both hands down his chest to straighten everything out. "Which brings me to my next question: do you have what you'd call any rivals in the current circuits? Do you usually get along with the people you face, or do you find that winning so often brings a lot of bad blood?"
Ain't no such thing as bad publicity, that's Mr. Jones' golden law when it comes to stuff like this. Though he might ask if they could edit a few things, truth is he actually half expects for them not to listen to him and do it anyway, he certainly would not be surprised if he watches this interview later on in TV to see that they didn't edit his jab at Fei Long. Such is the entertainment industry, besides, he already lost his acting career and has been living in the streets up until very recently, he has hit the lowest of the lowest and got back up, ain't nothing scaring this guy.
Besides, could you imagine him in a police outfit? With the cap over his afro?
"Nah, not really." Responds the groove master simply and that looks like it's going to be extent of his answer until he thinks about that better. "Well, there was this one guy....oh and the SNF chick did stalk for a bit...oh hell." His eyebrows raise in realization. "That reminds me I gotta check on Elias, she might have tried to stab him." Jonesy reaches for his cellphone but remembers it got shattered, oh but wait he has the iPhone! Too bad he doesn't have the priest's number memorized uggggh. "Anyway." He just gives up on that gets back to the interview, knowing that Elly can handle trouble going his way. "It boils down to the thing I was saying earlier about knowing your foundations. A lot of guys get really offended if you beat 'em, but I personally don't hold any grudges and I'm also down for the rematch. I'm from the school of thought that fighting is fun."
The fighter purses his lips in thought and drums his fingers against each other. "I guess I wouldn't mind having a rival though, maybe someone that dances too. Yeah..that'd be funky."
Elias? Elias... That name sounds familiar! Off to the side, Lauritz starts flipping through a book. Stepping out into the next room after procuring one of the cameramens' cell phones, he starts making some calls. After some checking around, his memory is vindicated: Elias is the name of one of the fighters that's been showing up in the Saturday Night Fight scene as well. As an excellent attendant, he's already trying to get a hold of the shelter to ask about the priest, just in case it's the same man that Jones is wondering about. Ah, but no answers yet...
Back in the living room, Sterling is asking all sorts of things: how he feels when he faces a strong opponent, what he's learned from his losses, and who his role models are. Before anyone knows it, the ten minutes have long since come and gone, but without Lauritz there to call the time, there's no stopping! This changes when he enters the room, looks dead at the two seated men, and glances at his watch. A clearing of his throat and a wave of his arm gets Sterling's attention, whose eyes lift for just a moment.
"Ah, looks like we're almost out of time! Jones, let me tell you, it's really been a pleasure talking with you, and I'm sure a lot of your fans out there are looking forward to seeing you fight again! In parting, do you have any words for them? Any advice, any upcoming events you'd like to reveal?"
Mister Jones will have to pat Lauritz in the back for looking out for his bro, the Priest is about the only guy Mister Jones is acquainted with in the fighting circuit and he'd rather not get him stabbed by some crazed acrobat girl.
When the barrage of questions come Jonesy responds in kind and responds with the placid energy that he is known to have, speaking his mind freely despite using such strange antiquated lingo. How he feels 'just groovy' when fighting strong opponents, and how 'the funk is with him' even if he losses and other strange things like that, he certainly has a very unique way of communicating.
Ah but sadly all things must come to an end and he reaches out to stretch Sterling's hand, he was rather enjoying himself since Jonesy just looooves talking. "Pleasure was all mine, mister Sterling." The funky martial artist turns to the camera to address his fans directly, all two of them and snaps his fingers. "Just stay groovy and keep on dancing."
He waits until it looks like the camera has stopped rolling and slides to the side, trying to get Lauritz attention since it looks like he can get him to do anything. "By the way, there was free food with this right?"
Sterling returns the handshake eagerly enough, a big smile on his face the whole time. Rarely does one get such a...unique man to interview! The man is just so dated and out of touch that this particular reel is going to be talked about on the internet for weeks to come. There's no such thing as bad press, is there? He hopes that the man is right, and that he has thick skin! "All right guys, pack it up, come on!" He stands up and gestures with his hands. As he does so, the hands start packing things up, disassembling booms and getting things ready to wheel back out into the van.
"Sir?" Lauritz's attention is immediately gained, of course. He looks expectantly as Jones asks about the free meal; a question that doesn't even begin to break his serious look. "Of course, sir; anywhere you'd like, I am here to serve you for the day." He digs into his breastpocket, pulling out a small envelope. Its paper is thick, and inside of it is a check with an utterly ornate, gold-leaf design. Ten thousand dollars, are promised, made out to the man's full name, pre-signed by Sterling Pamperton. "And this is from Mister Pamperton, as thanks."
Don't you worry about Jones, the guy is a warrior even if he acts so goofy. Besides, he doesn't even know what internet is or owns a computer, it's gonna take him ages until he runs into a forum that starts flaming him. And even then, he might be so flattered they're talking about him in the first place that he's likely not even going to care.
Wellp, guess that's it then. The Groove Master stands up from the sofa as the crew gets to pack up and glances at whatever it is Lauritz is going to give him.
..............
"That.....is a /lot/ of freaking dough!" The man exclaims and his shades even pop up to reveal his eyes and since Lauritz looks like is going to stick around, the funky man just goes to wrap a very muscled arm around the blond man's shoulders while he stares at the big fat check he just received. "Brudda, I'm taking you clubbing. You ever been to the Duck Pond?"
Let's see what kind of dance moves Lauritz can do.
Lauritz...dancing? The very idea causes the man to lift his brows. "Sir, I don't think I--" But he's got the guy's arm around him, and he looks so happy! It is, after all, his job to pamper the hell out of Jones for the day. "If...you think that's wise, sir, I'll... Well, I'll make arrangements."
And what arrangements they'll be! Metro City or not, nothing less than a brilliant black limo is called in. And the Duck Pond? Why, that's way over in Southtown! With but one phone call, Lauritz has a private jet reserved for the two with passage to Japan. After snapping the borrowed phone shut, Lauritz looks right at his charge, the two alone now that Sterling and the cameramen have packed up and...well, apparently left him behind.
"Is there anything else that I can do for you, sir?"
Even if the interview ended, things just keep on getting better and better! There's a limo waiting for Jonesy outside and the dude just barely manages not to squeak in delight, almost wanting to jump up and cheer, whatever happened to his talk about spiritual enlightenment and not being materialistic? "How the hell did you guys managed to get this baby past the Mad Gear gang!?" Jones giddily walks towards it and rubs on the windows to catch his reflection, opening the door himself eager to get under way, the night was still young after all and the Duck Pond was kinda far away!
"Yeah, one thing." Mr. Jones says rolling down the window to look at Lauritz "Could you maybe crack a smile every once in a while? It's kinda creeping me out." Not an unreasonable request he thinks!
For a few long seconds, Lauritz just -looks- at Mr. Jones. His face is a stone mask, though, after a few seconds, his mouth just sort of...thins. While the corners of his mouth pull back a little, the thinning of lips makes it seem like there's no upward curvature at all! ...It's going to be a big job, trying to get him to take it easy. "I'll try, sir." is finally sighed out after he gives up. For now.
A brief glance at his watch gets him trying to usher the afro king outside! "In the meantime, we had better go before the vehicle is vandalized. As you say, there are a lot of dangerous people around." And thus the night goes, with Lauritz trying to get things done, and Jones undoubtedly getting him to loosen up. With any luck (and a lot of alcohol), Jones will be the first man to get him sloppy drunk, complete with a fresh new tie-bandana and everything!
The boy still can't dance, though, unless you count a MEAN attempt at doing the Robot.
Log created on 19:27:52 11/10/2011 by ED-209, and last modified on 00:01:09 11/13/2011.