Youtube: Behind These Eyes
A few minutes after promo with Jay Cruz...
Dylan is in his locker room alone, sitting backwards on a black steel chair, his arms folded across the back where his chin rests. A white towel is draped over his head, casting a dark shadow over his eyes and only his nose and mouth can be seen. The scene is shot in black and white as Dylan begins to speak at a methodical pace that's barely above a whisper.
Dylan: Jay Cruz, another man driven by fear who he himself says that he's only validated by money. Which leaves me with only one question for him. What makes you any different than any other guy who has marched in here stating how great he is, only to fail and be given the pink slip? You have done nothing to make yourself stand out in my book because I've heard it all before, and I'll be the first to tell you that you're not even a blip on the PCW radar.
Dylan pauses for a beat, allowing his words to hopefully sink in to Jay's brain.
Dylan: You say that you're setting up a blue print that's going to be followed and admired for years to come...but I'll be the one to find every flaw and error within it, that you won't even make it into production. You'll be placed right back on the drawing board where you belong.
Dylan shakes his head and lets out a derisive snort.
Dylan: You also compare yourself to the likes of Basquiat, Van Gogh, Picasso, and Warhol, but all I fail to see is originality. The reason there isn't any originality Jay is because you lack substance. You have to compare yourself to people who have achieved notoriety because you have absolutely nothing you can call your own. You don't want anyone to remember the name Jay Cruz, you want to be known by wealth and famous comparisons, which won't get you far in this business. When you think about it Jay it's kind of funny that you compare yourself to artists, cause all I see when I look at you is a choke artist.
A small smirk creeps across his face, remembering all those who ended up not living up to their potential.
Dylan: You think me being in your cross-hairs intimidates me at all...not in the slightest, because me being in your cross-hairs is a badge of honor to me. You see me as the biggest threat that's standing in the way of you achieving your accolades, -- which can all be attributed to one word. Fear.
Dylan lifts his head up and his blue-green eyes is the only thing that's of color in the room. His eyes give off a cold stare that can put the freeze on a volcano.
Dylan: Fear me...fear the rage.
The camera slowly pans away from his face before fading to black.
A few minutes after promo with Jay Cruz...
Dylan is in his locker room alone, sitting backwards on a black steel chair, his arms folded across the back where his chin rests. A white towel is draped over his head, casting a dark shadow over his eyes and only his nose and mouth can be seen. The scene is shot in black and white as Dylan begins to speak at a methodical pace that's barely above a whisper.
Dylan: Jay Cruz, another man driven by fear who he himself says that he's only validated by money. Which leaves me with only one question for him. What makes you any different than any other guy who has marched in here stating how great he is, only to fail and be given the pink slip? You have done nothing to make yourself stand out in my book because I've heard it all before, and I'll be the first to tell you that you're not even a blip on the PCW radar.
Dylan pauses for a beat, allowing his words to hopefully sink in to Jay's brain.
Dylan: You say that you're setting up a blue print that's going to be followed and admired for years to come...but I'll be the one to find every flaw and error within it, that you won't even make it into production. You'll be placed right back on the drawing board where you belong.
Dylan shakes his head and lets out a derisive snort.
Dylan: You also compare yourself to the likes of Basquiat, Van Gogh, Picasso, and Warhol, but all I fail to see is originality. The reason there isn't any originality Jay is because you lack substance. You have to compare yourself to people who have achieved notoriety because you have absolutely nothing you can call your own. You don't want anyone to remember the name Jay Cruz, you want to be known by wealth and famous comparisons, which won't get you far in this business. When you think about it Jay it's kind of funny that you compare yourself to artists, cause all I see when I look at you is a choke artist.
A small smirk creeps across his face, remembering all those who ended up not living up to their potential.
Dylan: You think me being in your cross-hairs intimidates me at all...not in the slightest, because me being in your cross-hairs is a badge of honor to me. You see me as the biggest threat that's standing in the way of you achieving your accolades, -- which can all be attributed to one word. Fear.
Dylan lifts his head up and his blue-green eyes is the only thing that's of color in the room. His eyes give off a cold stare that can put the freeze on a volcano.
Dylan: Fear me...fear the rage.
The camera slowly pans away from his face before fading to black.
