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Drip No More


Leroi Daniels

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*At the OCW Performance Center, many superstars practice there wrestling and conversing with their coaches. All seems normal, except a yelling can be heard through the facility. It’s Leroi; dressed in a white Nike hoodie, black basketball shorts, and gold colorway Air Jordan 1’s. He has a microphone in his hand, as he continues yell and ramble on.*

 

Leroi: “...And you’ve all got it. I am no more, the drip is more. It was but a mere fragment of when I was binded by the chains of ignorance by the likes of you all. Those primitive times have shown me that no one knows who I truly. Not you, or you, or him in the back… I don’t even know who I am anymore. But I do know that the sheets have been lifted from my eyes and the aurora’s of the truth have furnished my mind! You all are arbitrary! You stick to whatever’s put in front of you and don’t bother to observe what else is there. You’re like flies on shit… sucking it dry until another falls to the ground.”

 

*A member of the performance center staff walks over and stops Leroi.*

 

Staff Member: “Hey Leroi, It’s good to see you. I see you’re working on your promo skills.”

 

*Leroi laughs, put his hand on his shoulder.*

Leroi: “Ignorant soul. This is no promo, this is statement, a public service announcement of some sorts. One against the fickle minded behavior that you, the company, and everyone possesses.”

 

Staff Member: “What makes you think that we all possess ‘fickle minded behavior’.”

 

Leroi: “ Don’t act as if you haven’t been consumed by symbiote that is bewilderment.You have been poisoned like the others, to undermine all that are overshadowed by pompous slaves of the company. You see, you only see the art, and not who made; now that my friend is the fickleness you have obtained.”

 

Staff Member: “Well Leroi I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t understand a word of what you just said; but It sounds good so keep it up.”

 

*The Staff Member walks away, as Leroi would continue.*

 

Leroi: “Huh, look no further for the feeble mindedness that plagues the lot of you. I am not a Mayan or a menace, but wild how y’all you can lie like professors. What I speak is not blasphemy, but the truth that has been withheld from you. Talk what I have given you all and do what you will with it.”

 

*Leroi lets the microphone drop to the floor, grabbing his duffle bag, and walking over to the weight room. For the next few hours until closing, Leroi would lift, squat, and curl away the day. After he finishes, he goes to the locker and changes into more fresher clothes. He walks out the empty performance center, opening his bag up once he was outside. He wraps a black bandana over his face, covers his head with the hood of his hoodie and takes out a can of gray spray paint. He goes over to the left wall of the building to start spraying, but hesitates and stops himself. His eyes give a lock of confusion, a lone surviving thought in his mind that he still is loved. He paces back and forth, suddenly stopping. His eyes slowly turn more angry, as his mind has transcended the propaganda that he everyone has been trying to plant in his mind. He goes over and starts to tag up the wall. After a 15 minutes, he moves on to the right wall and starts to spray it up as well. After 5 minutes, Leroi stops and sprays on the concrete leading to the performance center. After he finishes, he steps back holding the can, looking at everything he wrote. The left wall read ‘The Drip Is No More’, while the right wall had nothing but small question marks, and the concrete read ‘You Will All Soon See What You Have Created’. He walks away and disappears into the night; leaving the state in which Leroi is in, clouded by uncertainty. All that is forsure, is that he isn’t the same as before, and he may never be again.*

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