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Post by mooseheadjack on Mar 9, 2009 9:34:22 GMT -5
Poe and Selena are finishing up lunch at Ric’s Sandwich Shop (call today and ask about our party subs fatboy WOOOOOOOOOOO). Just before Poe is about to stand, Stank enters Ric’s and walks to the counter.
S: I’ll have a steak & cheese.
Poe quickly walks up to the counter.
Poe: This is on me, friend.
S: I don’t need your money. So keep it.
Back at the table, Selena grabs the sugar container and starts to pour the sugar in her mouth.
Poe: It’s my way of saying may the best man win and no hard feelings.
S: You got me a couple of weeks ago, but this time your ass is mine. No hard feelings man. But that’s on you. You send your disciples back to Japan?
Poe: They unfortunately lost their IWGP Tag-Team titles to Team 3D, the Dudley Boyz, whatever they’re called, so they’re back in Japan trying to earn a rematch. You have nothing to fear from outside interference on my part. I hope I can say the same about you.
Unbeknownst to Poe, Selena is now disco dancing on the table.
S: Shit, I don’t need D&D to beat you. You’re in my way to what I want. Nothin’ personal, but I’m gonna beat your ass. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to watch the show.
Poe: What show?
Stank points to Poe’s table as Poe turns and sees Selena dancing.
Poe: Goddess…
Selena hops down and skips over to Poe and Stank.
Poe: Are you feeling okay?
SG: Dude, I just ate a bunch of sugar so I’m great.
Selena then takes a dramatic smell of the air.
SG: Dude *to Stank* you do kinda stink, I see why you’re called Stank now.
Stank smells under his arms.
S: Your bitch is crazy.
Poe: My what?
Poe stands face to face with Stank. Stank just smiles.
S: See ya Wednesday.
Ric hands Stank his sub. Stank fake salutes and leaves.
RF: Unless, your little girl wants to ride Space Mountain, get her dancin’ ass, outta my shop. WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Poe glares at Ric before taking Selena by the arm and leading her towards the door. Selena hesitates and grabs another container of sugar.
SG: Mine!
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Post by mooseheadjack on Mar 9, 2009 9:34:48 GMT -5
<Poe and Selena leave Ric Flair's sandiwch shoppe and head down the hall. Before too long, Moose steps out of the shadows and stops them. Selena sees Moose and takes a step back and remains kind of behind Poe>
MHJ: Something wrong Mouse?
S: I saw what you did to SYB
MHJ: You didn't like it?
S: It was AWESOME! But you kind of scare me right now.
<Moose steps closer to Selena and Poe casts a sideways look at him for a moment>
MHJ: Mouse, you may be the ONLY person who doesn't have to worry about me
Poe: Moose, something I can help you with?
MHJ: Yeah, do you still have Jun Kasai's number, I can't seem to find it
Poe: I am sure I do. Forgive the intrusion, but what could you possibly want with that maniac?
MHJ:<smirking> I was watching some of his stuff for.......inspiration. I wanted to call him and get some match ideas. I want to show the King of the Indies what life in the big time is like
Poe: Understood. Come with us, it is in my locker room
<fade>
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Post by mooseheadjack on Mar 9, 2009 9:35:06 GMT -5
Poe, Selena, and Moosehead Jack enter Poe's locker room. Poe pulls a rollodex out of his bag. Selena hands her stolen container of sugar to Moosehead Jack.
SG: Want some? It's awesome good.
Moosehead Jack takes the container and pours it down his mouth Stone Cold style. He then shakes his head letting some fly, drawing a laugh from Selena.
SG: Dude, that was awesome.
Moosehead Jack spits some at Selena.
SG: Uncle Moose! Ew!
Poe taps Moosehead Jack on the shoulder and hands him a card.
Poe: You do remember what happened...
MHJ: Yes, I do.
Moosehead Jack takes the card and walks out the door before turning around to face them.
MHJ: Poe...Mouse...
SG: Bye Uncle Moose!
Once he's gone, Poe and Selena look at each other.
Poe: The things he's gonna do to Bryce Larson...I've missed that.
SG: That reminds me...we need popcorn.
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Post by mooseheadjack on Mar 9, 2009 9:35:35 GMT -5
**Matte is sitting in the hallway (not sleeping, just sitting) and watches as an empty beer can rolls past his feet. He looks in the direction that the can had rolled from and sees a shadow disappear around a corner.**
Matte: Damn it... Well someone's gonna have to pick that up.
**He sits and looks around for a minute, then sighs.**
Matte: I guess I'll have to do it...
**He slouches down and reels the can in with his feet. He picks up the can and turns it upside down, letting a few drips fall into his mouth. He then tosses the can aside. A journalist walks over to him and kneels beside him.**
J: Gross.
Matte: Hey.
J: So, you've got Seamus at Mayhem. Can I get your thoughts on that?
Matte: It's cool I guess.
J: You guess? It's for the belt.
Matte: Which one?
J: Did you not look at the card?
Matte: I think I did, but I forget what was on it.
J: The Onslaught Title.
Matte: Which one's that?
J: Are you serious?
Matte: I don't know... No?
J: Jesus...
Matte: K, well, it's cool that I'm in the match and I'm gonna try to win the, uh...
J: Onslaught.
Matte: Yea, that. The belt. So, yea... That's it.
J: Ok, thank...
Matte: Oh, wait! Who's Seamus?
J: Huh?
Matte: The guy I'm fighting. I don't know him.
J: Just... You'll see him on Wednesday.
Matte: Alright, cool. See ya.
**The journalist leaves and Matte continues sitting.**
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Post by mooseheadjack on Mar 9, 2009 9:35:58 GMT -5
Bryce Larson is STANDING~! by the catering table, waiting for someone. Someone arrives.
BL: Nayr. There you are.
N: Sorry I'm late, I was looking at--
BL: Boobies, I'm sure.
N: Hey...well, yeah. Boobies. 'Crete took me to Hooters.
BL: How'd that go over.
N: I kinda like that place. They don't seem to mind if you, well, stare.
BL: Perfect for you. So, what did you want to talk to me about that had to be in person.
N: Is it true?
BL: What? Is what true?
N: That you didn't join Run DEA? That you're not aligned with any of them besides Davin? That you could still join the Heroes Guild?
BL: Yes, yes, and no.
N: Yes, yes, and no? Wha...oh. Okay.
BL: Listen, dude, it's just not in the cards. I'm not like you guys. I'm probably more like the Run DEA folks than The Heroes Guild.
N: I guess so.
BL: Besides, you shouldn't be worrying about who you want to join the Guild, you should be worrying about who apparently thinks he joined the Guild.
N: Darling Man?
BL: Yeah. I don't get that cat at all.
N: Tell me about it. 'Crete wants to keep the door open, just in case he's seen the light. And Goldie Girl, too.
BL: You must love having her around. She is nice to look at.
N: Yeah, but she's not so nice about you looking at her!
BL: That Bitchkiller hurts, huh?
N: Dude, that's not Alexis, it's Olympic Gold Medalist Shawn Johnson
BL: It is? Damn, that's a good costume.
N: But we're against them this week since GMTR changed the card. So we'll see what happens.
BL: Watch your back, and watch 'Crete's, too.
N: Right. And good luck against Moose.
BL: Moose? Oh, he's nothing! Maybe I'll face Blitz in the finals, huh?
N: Umm, right. [Nayr points behind Bryce before he starts to leave.] 'Kay, gotta run. Bye!
BL: Umm...okay. See you later.
Bryce turns around, thinking Nayr's behavior was a little strange. However, he bumps right into Moosehead Jack, stopping Bryce dead in his tracks.
MHJ: Nothing? Nothing!
BL: Woah, easy now. I was just putting that front up for Nayr. I know I'm in for one hell of a match on Wednesday.
MHJ: You're in for one hall of a fight, my friend. A fight.
BL: Right. I'll be ready for you.
MHJ: Will you? Will your...neck be ready?
BL: Um...what do you mean...my neck?
MHJ: I know people. People who know people. And those people know people who work with the training staff.
BL: Oh.
MHJ: And I know that you tweaked your neck against Phantos. You may have kept the OOWF camera crew out of there, but not my sources. So rest that neck, okay?
BL: Um, yeah. Right.
Moosehead Jack walks away rom Bryce, who stands there, looking at the camera.
BL: Fuck!
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Post by mooseheadjack on Mar 9, 2009 9:36:30 GMT -5
<We see "The King of the Indies" Bryce "The Bad Ass Dragon" Larson waking down a random hallway. He gets a few feet down the hallway and the lights flicker and go out. Larson stops cold>
BL: Oh HELL no. I'm not stupid Moose! I know if I keep going, you are going to jump out and attack me. Not falling for it! You don't get to be "King of the Indies" by being stupid!
<Larson turns around to walk away, and Moose is standing there with a chair. Before Larson can react, Moose swings the chair and hits him square on the face. Larson slumps to his knees, and Moose grabs his head, cocks his fist back - which we see is wrapped in barbed wire - and HAMMERS Larson with several shots to the face, leaving Larson a bloody mess. Moose then pulls Larson to his feet and hits a DOUBLE UNDERHOOK PILEDRIVER on the floor! Larson immediately grabs his neck and rolls on the floor in pain. Moose gets to his feet, snarls at Larson, then grabs the chair and repeatedly smashes it down on Larson until he stops moving. Moose takes a look at his handiwork and walks away.
As Moose gets a little way down the hall, he walks up on LD Williams and Thim Reynolds standing there talking. The three men stand in silence letting the moment sink in>
TR: Goddamn Moose, good to see you
MHJ: Thim, how the hell are ya?
TR: Never been better.
MHJ: Rick asked me if I thought you should be let back in. Gave me all kinds of doctors reports and shit
TR: Did you read them?
MHJ: Hell no. As soon as he said you were interested, I knew you were going to come back.
<Moose turns to LD>
MHJ: Been meaning to say this, but congrats champ.
LDW: Thanks Moose. <LD glances down at Moose's fist wrapped in barbed wire. Blood is dripping off the wire onto the floor>
LDW: Uh.....Moose?
MHJ: Oh, this? The King of the Indies needed to be reminded that he's not king of shit around here. Gentlemen.
<Moose walks off leaving Thim and LD to their conversation>
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Post by mooseheadjack on Mar 9, 2009 9:36:55 GMT -5
Firewoman is in the always awesome Run DEA Locker Room and Suites, sponsored by Aquafina and Starwood Hotels. She is watching tape of matches with Tyson with Lucky, but she is clearly having trouble concentrating.
L: Fine. What about this one? From SWA?
FW: Whatever.
Lucky cues the video up and they watch for a bit, Lucky making notes, Firewoman staring at the screen, but not really watching.
L: There...do you see right there? He kinda drops his shoulder when.... Fire, you aren't even watching.
FW: Huh? Yeah, I am.... I heard you.
L: What did I say?
FW: You said, what about this one.
L: After that.
FW: [She thinks a minute, as she realizes she has no idea what Lucky is talking about, and then gets frustrated.] I dunno Lucky, words. It doesn't matter anyway, you're supposed to make the notes and I read them later.
L: .....
FW: Oh, look, I'm sorry, okay? I was just thinking about that match. I think that was one of our first ones where we were allowed to go full-force. That was fun.... we were so stoked about it that we were I think up all night on the adrenaline and endorphins.
L: Who won?
FW: You know, I don't even remember. I remember I didn't care either. They had to kick us out of the bar, so we went back to the gym-- [Firewoman starts to laugh] -- and we started working on moonsaults and shooting star presses from the top rope, which we weren't allowed to do yet sober, much less drunk, until about 6am, when Lance got there and yelled at us.
L: [also laughing] Sounds cool.
FW: Yeah....it was....
Silence reigns for a bit as the video keeps playing. All of a sudden the two are interrupted by...
*WOOSH*
AD: Hello, denizens of the RunDEA Suites Sponsored by Aquafina and Starwood Hotels. It is I! Darling Man, with my ever-loyal sidekick Goldie Girl!
OGM SJ: Yeah. Hi.
AD: Lucky. Fire, I have proposition for you. How would you like to join with me in the fight against evil?
FW: Please go away. I want no part in this.
AD: But think. By day, you are a talented sports entertainer. But by night! You are the uplifter of the downtrodden, and avenger of sins! You are.....FIREBLASTER!
FW: No.
AD: Think about it!
FW: I don't have to think about it, Alex. This is stupid. I have bigger things to worry about then joining in you and Shawn's costume games, which I didn't even know you were into, by the way.
AD: I am not Alex, I am Darlingma--
FW: GO AWAY.
AD: Lucky, Goldie Girl, can you excuse Fire and me for a moment?
OGM SJ: Gladly.
L: Definitely.
"Goldie Girl" heads off to her room, and Lucky collects his things, looks at Alexander and rolls his eyes. He leaves, and Alexa...er, Darlingman sits down.
AD: I'm not just here to invite you to join us. I'm here because my Darling Senses are telling me there is something up with you. That you are keeping things from your long time friend and partner Alexander Darling.
FW: Darling Senses? Really?
AD: They are like spidey senses, only less radioactive.
FW: Alex, please--
AD: Darlingman is here to remind you that you promised no more secrets.
FW: No, Lexie promised no more secrets. I didn't promise shit, and even if I did, I'm not keeping anything--
AD: Really?
Firewoman becomes instantly entranced by the state of her manicure
FW: Really.
AD: Look me in the eyes, Firewoman. No one can resist telling the truth when mesmerized by--
FW: I swear to the gods, Alex if you say anything remotely geeky--
AD: Look me in the eyes.
Firewoman does so for a moment and then calmly and rationally answers.
FW: You're right. I've been lying. I... I.... it was me! I took the last Oreos and left the empty package in the cupboard.
AD: Thank you, I know you must feel better getting that off-- Wait, what? I'm not talking about that, I'm talking about you and D.H!
FW: What? Oh don't be silly. I'm not keeping anything from you... grr, Alexander.
AD: At all?
FW: No, now go away, and don't bug me until you're done with this...whatever this is....
AD: So...no Fireblaster?
FW: NO!!!
AD: Then I shall leave you to prepare for your match! Good day!!
*WOOOOOSH*
Firewoman is alone, as Darlingman makes his exit. She looks around, shakes her head and drops it down into her hands. She sighs and gets up and leaves the room, deciding to take a walk.
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Post by mooseheadjack on Mar 9, 2009 9:37:21 GMT -5
*OBJ and Steve Irbot are sitting at a table in the Destroyitarium. Their conversation consists of a series of belches and beeps. OBJ is drinking from a 25 ounce Fosters can, while Steve is drinking 10W40 motor oil from a similar can. Gator strolls into the bar with each arm around a relaxation technician, but directs them to the bar while he joins OBJ and Steve.*
GB: Wally tells me they've changed the card. We get Phantos and Lucios instead of Darling and Moreland.
Steve: Great galloping goannas! *beep*
OBJ: It was only a matter of time, I guess. Ive been fed up to the back teeth with that whole pack of galahs, but I have to admit those two misery guts at least know how to work as a tag team. We'll have to rethink our strategy.
GB: I thought our strategy was to beat the cat's hiss out of them?
Steve: Crikey! *beep*
OBJ(drinks, belches): Australian for works for me!
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Post by mooseheadjack on Mar 9, 2009 9:37:41 GMT -5
[The Dead is taking a walk outside of the arena when he notices Firewoman doing the same. The Dead picks up his pace a little and catches up to her.]
Dead: Getting some air, eh?
Fire: ...
[Firewoman seems lost in thought and doesn't respond.]
Dead: Uhh, Earth to Fire...you there...?
Fire: ...huh? Oh, uh, hey Dead...
Dead: Something bothering you?
Fire: It's just, eh, nevermind.
Dead: Not a problem...
Fire: So, you need anything?
Dead: I was just in my locker room watching some old tape and it got me thinking. I decided to take a walk a think about it a little more. That's when I saw you.
Fire: Umm, ok, but that still doesn't explain...
Dead: The tape I was watching was the two of us tearing the roof last year.
Fire: Yeah, I remember that...
Dead: I just wanted to let you know that I'm winning that match on Wednesday, I'm getting my title shot, and I fully expect the two of us to do the same damn thing again.
[Fire smiles a little.]
Dead: Guess I'll see you soon...
[The Dead breaks stride with Firewoman and heads back the other way, leaving both of them alone with their thoughts.]
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Post by mooseheadjack on Mar 9, 2009 9:38:04 GMT -5
*Blitz and Darling Man are coaching Nayr on his mad romance skills. Damon Wrath is quoting the Scripture whilst thumping the Bible. Concrete TG is trying to listen to Wrath, but even he seems creeped out.*
Nayr: How do I look, Darling?
DM: Girl-bait, Citizen. Pure bloody girl-bait.
N: Costume? Flashy enough?
B: Like a nerd in a black-and-white film.
CTG: So what’s going on here, Citizen Paladin? Are you actually going to approach a female and ask her out?
B: Whoa, steady down there Crete. He’s just going to demand sex, that’s all. That way, he can stare at her breasts most of the time and not have to form too many cohesive sentences. We don’t want to run before we can walk.
CTG: Good thinking. Now do you have any particular woman in mind?
N: A fair maiden from Hooters.
CTG: What’s her name?
N: I have no idea. I just know that we were destined to be together.
CTG: I’m quite impressed by your attire, but do you really think a lady like a Hooters waitress would truly appreciate our nerdism?
B: He’ll have her coming out of his spaceship for a week.
CTG: Okay, so you know what you’re going to say to her?
N: Darling…
DM: Yes, Citizen Paladin?
N: What?
DM: Um, I don’t know.
N: Well don’t butt in then. “I want to make you happy, darling.”
DM: That’s very kind of you.
N: Will you kindly stop interrupting? If you don't listen, how can you tell me what you think? 'I want to make you happy, darling. I want to build a nest for your ten tiny toes. I want to cover every inch of your gorgeous body in pether and sneeze all over you.”
DM: I really think I must protest!
N: What is the matter with you, Darling?
DM: Well, it's all so sudden, I mean the nest bit's fine, but the pether business is definitely out!
N: How dare you tell me how I may or may not treat my beloved Hooters waitress?
DM: Hooters waitress?
N: Yes, I'm working on what to say to her this evening.
DM: Oh yes. Of course. Thank God.
N: Alright?
DM: Yes, I’m listening.
N: Honestly Darling, you really are the most graceless, dim-witted idiot I ever met.
DM: I don’t think you should say that to her.
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Post by mooseheadjack on Mar 9, 2009 9:38:36 GMT -5
Bryce Larson is SITTING~! in the locker room, having his wounds nursed by Farrah. The camera crew walks in, and Bryce isn't too happy about it.
BL: What the hell are you guys doing here?
Off camera voice: Your phone is going to ring in a few seconds. We're doing a split screen with you and Nayr.
BL: Nayr? Why? What's the point-- [Bryce stops as his phone rings] Ah shit.
Bryce answers as we go to split screen, with Nayr on the other end.
BL: Midget--
N: Wait, before you get pissed and hang up on me.
BL: Okay, fine. What is it.
N: Listen, I need your help.
BL: My help? With what? I'm not really in the helping mood right now.
N: Yeah, I heard about the attack. Sorry about that, man.
BL: Don't worry about it, it's not your fight.
N: It could be, if you just join The Heroes--
BL: Stop! Is this why you called me?
N: No, I need help...girl help.
BL: Girl help? Seriously? Fine. What questions do you have.
N: Well--
BL: Wait. Here it is...most of them unhook from the back. They have little hooks that fit together, and they're a pain to unhook. Unless it's a racerback, then you're on your own. If she's wearing one that latches in the front, you're in luck. One click and you've got a face full of boobies.
N: What...wait...I mean, this is great info, don't get me wrong. Can you text that to me?
BL: Sure. Now what's your real question?
N: Well, there's this girl at Hooters. I'm going to ask her out.
BL: Hooters girl? Is that really your type?
N: Well, she's different. She's shorter than the others, and wears glasses.
BL: They make entire porn compilations based on that description. Your type?
N: Yes--wait, they make entire compilations? Do they sell those?
BL: ...
N: Wait, don't answer that. Listen, she's different. I walked back towards the bathroom, and I saw her on break. She was playing her PSP!
BL: She was playing her PSP? Really?
N: Yes! She looked totally uncomfortable at Hooters, even though she worked there.
BL: Okay, this can work. So what's your plan.
N: I'm going to go to Hooters and talk to her.
BL: What, are you going to go to the hostess station and ask for her?
N: No...I can't...I don't know her name.
BL: They wear nametags!
N: Well, I didn't really look at her nametag.
BL: It was on her boob!
N: Really? Okay. I'll make note of that for the future.
BL: Okay--whatever--tell me your plan.
N: Well, I want to go to Hooters and get seated at one of her tables. I'll talk video games, and get her attention that way.
BL: It might work. Who is going with you? Gryfon? Blitz? Wrath?
N: No, I don't want to go there with them.
BL: What, Darling Man?
N: Um...no. No way.
BL: Then who?
N: Well, can you come?
BL: No! We're not partners anymore! You'll need to find someone else!
N: Come on...come on...come on...come on...
BL: That only works if I'm still talking.
N: Come on...come on...come on...come on...
BL: Stop!
N: Come on...come on...come on...come on...
BL: Nayr!
N: Come on...come on...come on...come on...
BL: FINE! I'll go to Hooters with you. Text me the address.
Bryce hangs up the phone. We see Nayr smile, and his feed is cut. Bryce kicks the camera man out of the room and goes back to nursing his wounds with Farrah. We hear her talking as the camera man leaves.
F: He just likes you, he wants to be your friend.
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Post by mooseheadjack on Mar 9, 2009 9:38:57 GMT -5
(Steele bursts in GMtheRick's Office with Biggs two steps behind him. Biggs is carrying a brief case.)
theRick: Doesn't anyone knock anymore?
Steele: I make more money in a week then you do in a year, why should I?
theRick: I am still the boss.
Steele: Only in your mind Rick.
theRick: Now why the hell are you here?
Steele: I want Lola fired.
theRick: What did she do now?
Steele: Nothing. I want to hire her for Ultimo Inc.
theRick: You want me to fire her so you can hire her?
Steele: Is that so hard?
theRick: What is I say no?
Steele: Then I will have to convince you more.
(Biggs steps up and theRick starts to look worried, Biggs then opens up the case and the camera shows that it has some money in it.)
Steele: You do look like you can use some new clothes, and this office can use some work.
theRick: You brought up some interesting points. Consider it done.
Steele: I knew you would see things my way.
(Steele and Biggs leave and theRick begins to count the money.)
FADE
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Post by mooseheadjack on Mar 9, 2009 9:39:17 GMT -5
(Biggs and Steele are walking!)
Steele: Now that we have that done time to move on to other things.
Biggs: Understood sir.
Steele: Fire is distracted. I want her focus gone. It's time for the next stage of the plan.
Biggs: They are being tracked as we speak.
Steele: Good. Then make it happen, and do it right. Don't hurt them to bad...I just want her to know we are out there watching every one and everymove that is made.
Biggs: Consider it done.
(Biggs walks off and Steele heads back to Ultimo Inc. with a smile.)
Fade
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Post by mooseheadjack on Mar 9, 2009 9:39:38 GMT -5
(Tytan is training! Lola the newest member of Ultimo Inc. is watching on with her camera crew.)
Lola: Tytan it is time to cut another promo.
Tytan: But we just did two of them. (Kayfabe drops down from the roof.)
Lola: I know but now we have to talk about the match.
Tytan: Okay fine. (Grabs the mic. Kayfabe sees and settles down.) Cole, SYB, and The Dead you don't understand I am the only one that can win the MITB match. None of you will. I am the one that is suppose to destroy Firewoman, not Tyson and not anyone else. So do what you are suppose to for that match and taken the beating that you little bitches deserve.
Lola: Strong words Tytan, I like it.
Tytan: Look I am tired of playing nice. Maybe it's time I just start taking what is mine.
Lola: You got me convinced.
Tytan: Now I need to train some more.
(FADE)
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Post by mooseheadjack on Mar 9, 2009 9:39:59 GMT -5
**L.D. Williams is sitting alone at a table in a back corner of the Destroyitarium, with the World Heavyweight Championship on the table in front of him. He looks up as SFJ#47 approaches.**
LDW: “Wondered how long it'd take you to find me.”
SFJ#47: “Got a minute for an interview?”
LDW: <Looks around at the empty table.> “I think I can squeeze it in.”
SFJ#47: “This week you face your former teammate D.H Magnusson. How does that affect your preparations?”
LDW: “D.H. and I were in Drink & Destroy together for about eight seconds, so it doesn't have any affect at all. What he did to Stank and the boys is between them. Turning his back on D&D says a lot about his character, and throwing in with Run DEA says a lot about his intelligence, but our match won't be about that. It'll be about this.” <points at the belt.>
SFJ#47: “Are you at all concerned that Run DEA may be a factor in this match?”
LDW: “I think they're too caught up in their own soap operas for that. And if they do want to interfere, let 'em. I don't carry this thing for decoration. Davin, Alex, Poe, Moose, Tytan, Stank, 'Crete, Seamus, Fire – the list goes on and on and on. All of them want to be World Champion. Several of them believe they have my number. None of them do.”
SFJ#47: “That's a rather ambitious statement...”
LDW: “I work with what I've got. I don't do comedy. I don't do involved storylines. Hell, I barely even do feuds. Up until a couple of hours ago, I thought my match was against Damon Wrath, so aparently I don't do literacy either. What I do is win. Anyone. Anytime. Anywhere. Beat me if you can, survive...if I'm having an off night.”
SFJ#47: “So you'll defend the belt against anyone?”
LDW: “Except Solly.”
SFJ#47: “Why not him?”
LDW: “The new Jooker thing. <shudders> That look is just creepy.”
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Post by mooseheadjack on Mar 9, 2009 9:40:24 GMT -5
*OBJ joins LD*
OBJ: Listen, mate, I've got a favor to ask.
LD: OK.
OBJ: When you beat that bastard Magnusson, make him pay his dues!
LD: Should I collect his debt?
OBJ: Make him fear you while you're at it, mate!
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Post by mooseheadjack on Mar 9, 2009 9:40:49 GMT -5
Selena is skipping down the hallway of random encounters, with Poe trailing behind, limping, and unfortunately she spots Gator, smiling disturbingly, leaning against a wall. Selena stops in her tracks, but Moosehead Jack appears out of the mist in the hallway.*
MHJ: Don't worry, Mouse, he won't hurt you.
Selena; Thanks, Uncle Moose.
Poe (trailing behind): Goddess, do be careful! This hallway has many hazards!
*Outback Jack appears through the mist swirling through the hallway*
OBJ: Right, mate. She gets a free pass, this time.
MHJ: This time?
OBJ: I can only hold Gator back so much.
MHJ: And if you can't?
OBJ: Shit happens, mate.
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Post by mooseheadjack on Mar 9, 2009 9:41:14 GMT -5
*GM the Rick is sitting in his office, with a bottle of whiskey on his desk along with some Cuban cigars. He places a cigar in his mouth, and searches his desk for a lighter. Suddenly, a lighter appears and lights the cigar as Rick looks up. He sees the face of Eric O'Mac.*
GMtR: Well, well, well. If it isn't Eric O'Mac. Delightful to see you again.
Eric: Uh, yeah. Nice to see you too.
GMtR: Sarcasm, jackass. What do you want?
Eric: May I sit?
GMtR: If you don't waste too much of my time. Lighting the cigar bought you a couple of minutes.
*Eric sits down.*
GMtR: So, where have you been? I've been booking you for the past month and you've BARELY shown up. You come in, hours late, you go to the ring, you get your ass beat, then you leave. The OOWF doesn't hear from you during the week. We're lucky if we get to see you at all. And I wanted to book you and Alexander Darling at the PPV, but if you aren't going to show up, then I don't know what to do. It seems that Alex has moved on.
Eric: Rick, I'm tired.
GMtR: Not my damn problem. You should have went to bed earlier.
Eric: Not what I mean, Rick. I mean, yes, I am physically tired. I'm worn out. But I'm more than just physically tired. I'm tired of wrestling in general. You see, Rick, it's not what it use to be, anymore. The OOWF use to be pure entertainment. Pure wrestling. Something for everyone? Now?
It's a load of bullshit.
Rick, I can't get up in the morning, look in the mirror, and claim to enjoy what I'm doing anymore. I use to come to work with a smile. Now, like you said, I don't even show up.
GMtR: This is what I know...
Eric: I'm not finished yet, Rick.
I'm sick of a lot that happens in the OOWF. I'm sick of the politics. I'm sick of the selfishness. I'm sick of everyone trying to get themselves over. I'm sick of watching talentless hacks go over talented megastars. I'm sick of drama. I'm sick of television parodies. I'm sick of outsiders coming in to our little world. Hell, I'm sick of everyone having their own personal mouthpiece. I'm sick of everyone having their own personal locker rooms, sponsors, hell, I'm sick of all of it.
Now, Rick, you might think I'm a hypocrite. I do a lot of this same shit that I'm sick of. But that doesn't make it right. Hell, it's what's wrong with this damn company. I'm part of the problem. You hear me Rick?
Rick: Loud and clear.
Eric: No, I DON'T THINK YOU DO, RICK!
*Rick slides his chair back as Eric starts to stand over him.*
Eric: You see, Rick, I have nothing to fight for anymore. I have nothing to prove. I know that I'm the absolute best that there is in this wrestling world that we call the OOWF.
So to ask me to come to work, every day, and deal with the politics, the backstabbing, the fucking terrible angles, the fucking terrible television and movie promo parodies, the burial jobs, the bitching about the burial jobs, the locker rooms and personal interviewers? You are barking up the wrong tree, Rick.
It may come off as snobby. It may come off as self-righteous. But luckily for you and luckily for me, I don't need to worry about this shit anymore.
So, do me a favor and I'll do you a favor. I'll go through this shit for two more weeks. I'll face the Amnesiacs and Damon Wraths of the OOWF. I'll deal with their shitty segments. But then, at the PPV, book me vs. Alexander Darling.
GMtR: I don't know if you can be booked in that match.
Eric: Do it anyways. Book me vs. Darling, and we'll put on a showcase. We'll tear the fucking house down. We'll give the fans their moneys worth and while we won't be able to completely erase all of the shit that has gone down in the OOWF in the past few months, our match will be a match of the year contender, and that's a fucking fact.
Do that for me. That's the last thing I'll ask of you, because after the PPV on March 1st, I'm done.
GMtR: I'm sorry, did I hear that correctly?
Eric: Yes, Rick. I'm fucking finished with the OOWF. I don't know for how long, or if I'll ever come back. But I'm sick of all of the bullshit in the OOWF right now and I'll be damned if I want to be associated with it right. So, you can book me how you would like for the next two weeks. Just give me Alexander Darling on March 1st, and I'll give you the match of the century, and you won't have to deal with me ever again.
Now doesn't that sound good?
GMtR: I'll have to get back to you on that.
Eric: Do it soon. Because after March 1st, I'm out of here.
*Eric turns to leaves, opens the door and smacks the Amnesiac, who apparently was walking by, smack dab in the face.*
Eric: You'd expect me to laugh at this...but I'm also sick of this shit too.
*Eric walks away.*
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Post by mooseheadjack on Mar 9, 2009 9:41:47 GMT -5
(A slow fade in of dramatic music) (The movie trailer man starts to speak) Narrator: "Miles Specter is one of the world's most dangerous men. Code name: The Ghost. Silently killing anyone he is paid to eliminate. An assassin for hire, he has been contracted to kill a spy, or so he thought."(cut to interior of a large office) Man behind desk: "The magnificent Ghost! Welcome, so good to finally meet you. You are the best hired gun in the world, there's no doubt about that. In and out, without a trace. I am a fan of your work, even if you never leave a calling card. No one can do what you do. Cairo. Tehran. Moscow was especially devious.(looking at a report folder) A trip wire on the..."Specter:"...toilet. How can I be of service to you, Mister..."Man behind desk:"Duvel, and I have your next target. I'll triple you pay to eliminate this man.(handing a picture to Ghost) He is a North Korean spy and assassin. He's part of a North Korean dilpomatic envoy that will be meeting with President Johnson this month, and I want him dead before he gets near the President."Specter:"Nobody messes with America on my watch. You've got yourself a deal, Mr. Duvel, but this is my last job. After this, I vanish into thin air."(walking out of the room) (action shot of North Korean diplomat being shot by The Ghost) Narrator:"But his target was the wrong target, for the wrong reason. And now the hunter has become the hunted! The United States government wants to capture him at any cost, and the man who hired him now wants him silenced, forever."(car chase scene with Ghost on cell phone) Specter:"I was set up. My intel was jammed. I'm in deep..."Narrator:"From the director who brought you The Spartan and Alien Hunter 2, and starring Samuel L. Jackson as President Malcolm X Johnson.""Find that killer or North Korea is going to eat our asses for lunch!"Narrator:"And Clive Owen as the mysterious Mr. Duvel.""Specter should already be dead! What do I pay you people for?!?! Make him yesterday's news!"Narrator:"And the Beer Baron as Miles Specter."(Specter on cell phone with the President) Specter:"Mr. President, this is The Ghost, Miles Specter. Sir, I was set up. I was hired by CIA operatives to eliminate the North Korean spy!"President Johnson:"Ghost, you shot the wrong man! That man was trying to broker peace with the USA. I have no choice, you're now Public Enemy number one. You will be hunted down for this."BeepSpecter:"Can you hold on Mr. President, I have another call coming in..."BeepPresident Johnson:"This mutha fucka just put ME on hold!?! I'm the god damn President!"(on the other line) Specter:"Hello?!? I'm a little busy on the other line."Mr. Duvel:"Mr. Specter, you were correct in believing that this would be your final job. I hope your retirement is rather painful."Specter:"Duvel! You hired the wrong patsy! Setting me up was the mistake of your life. I'm coming back to KILL...YOU...ALL!"Narrator:"In order to save his life and clear his name, Miles Specter must now go on...a Suicide Run."Specter:"Is that all you got?!?!"WHOAAAAAAA!!!!"Suicide RunRated R. Coming soon to a theater near you.
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Post by mooseheadjack on Mar 9, 2009 9:42:24 GMT -5
Firewoman is out by the loading dock and internal parking garage, sneakign a smoke, and basically avoiding her crazy colleagues. An expensive type car pulls up (sorry, I can't remember the type, I'll look for it and edit it in later), and out steps her nemesis, Tyson Kincaid. The two stare at each other for a bit, each not believing that they have to deal with this now.
TK: Great. This is my reward for getting here early.
FW: [Fieldstripping her cigarette and throwing it away, as she is many things, but 'litterbug' is not one of them.] Don't sweat it, I'll get out of your hair. Figured it wasn't Wednesday, it was safe.
TK: It's safe anyway. It was a long drive, and I don't feel like starting anything.
FW: Wow...let me write this in my diary.
Tyson looks like he wants to say something in return, but then thinks again, and starts to walk into the arena. Then he turns around and heads back.
TK: Just wanted to say thank you for my new scar. [he points to the healing burn on his cheek] I'll be sure to remember how that felt when we meet Wednesday night.
FW: Yeah? Well, when it matches the one left by my chest tube, come talk to me.
Tyson drops his bag, and just as they look like they're getting ready to throw down, a Randomly Numbered Production Assistant appears.
PA37: Uh....I don't mean to interrupt.
FW: Then don't.
TK: Yeah. Don't.
PA37: Well, I have to. Mr. Kincaid, you have a phone call from a Doctor....Asp--
TK: I'll call him back later.
PA37: He's actually on hold in the production office, and refused to hang up.
Tyson and Fire glare at each other for a bit longer.
TK: Fine. I'll be right there. Fire.... we'll pick this up in the ring. [He walks away.]
FW: It's a date. [Tyson turns back towards Fire]
TK: Well, that increases my chances of winning, since you usually don't show up for those.
Tyson walks away. Firewoman waits until he's gone, and begins to systematically destroy random things found in the parking garage.
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Post by mooseheadjack on Mar 9, 2009 9:42:46 GMT -5
Disembodied voice of Lord Alfred Hayes: PROMOTIONAL CONSIDERATION PAID FOR BY THE FOLLOWING!!
[Johnny Adrenaline is seen sitting in a luxurious office chair, writing in a notebook of some sort, while Attitude Adjuster is watching a game.]
JA: [tapping pencil] Hey Alan, I need a verb.
AA: ...obliterate.
JA: What about an adjective?
AA: Um.... stupid.
JA: And a noun.
AA: .....ass?
JA: And a day?
AA: ....Sunday.
JA: [reading stiltedly] I'm gonna obliterate your stupid ass on Sunday!
AA: That's awesome, Johnny! [hops off the couch] And now you can promo like the best in the business, too. It's TWO MINUTE PROMOS!!
JA: Lots of jabronis in our great sport pour hours and hours into boring 45 minute promos that just ramble on and on and on and on with no point whatsoever.
AA: Johnny, why waste time trying to stir the creative juices that you obviously don't have when you can just pick up the phone and order TWO MINUTE PROMOS!!
JA: It's so easy. Find the promo that fits your storyline, fill in the blanks, and you're ready to put your match, your opponent, and most importantly, yourself over in no time at all.
AA: No more dictionaries, no more thesauruses, no more headaches.
JA: Don't be camera shy, don't be hesitant, call 1-570-3 3 6-6643 to get TWO MINUTE PROMOS for ONLY $99.99!! All major credit cards accepted, and our operator is standing by.
AA: [finishing a promo] Johnny, I need an adjective!
JA: Um.... gamble!
AA: [sighs] Don't be a dope like Johnny. Call the number, get TWO MINUTE PROMOS, and feel the crowd heat rise with every word.
JA: What'd I say?
[fade]
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Post by mooseheadjack on Mar 9, 2009 9:43:08 GMT -5
*Davin Moreland finds Alexander Darling (and it is Alexander Darling) in The Suites*
DM: Hey.
AD: What?
DM: Just saw something on TV that Davin Moreland thought Alexander Darling could use.
AD: Two Minute Promos? What the fuck?
DM: Just sayin'. Sometimes it's quality, not quantity. The number is 1-570-3 3 6-6643. Alexander Darling should really give them a call.
AD: You should really leave before I kick your ass.
DM: Save Alexander Darling's energy for the meaningless Trios Match.
AD: You could put it over a little better than that.
DM: Davin Moreland could. Ok. Save Alexander Darling's energy for SUPER TERRIFIC HAPPY FUN TIME AWESOME DELUXE TRIOS MATCH.
AD: Better.
DM: Call them.
*Davin Moreland grabs something off the table and heads off into Matte's Hallway*
DM: Matte.
*Matte nods...and then nods out. Davin spots an angry Eric O'Mac stomping around.*
DM: Eric.
EOM: What the fuck do you want?
DM: *tosses the object to Eric* Just to give Eric O'Mac that.
EOM: What is it?
DM: It's an exacto knife. You know, so Eric O'Mac can slice Eric O'Mac's wrists open since Eric O'Mac is now an Emo Whiny Pussy Bitch now. *mocking* "It's not the same as it was before when no one gave a shit about us! I leave for months at a time and come back for a month and leave in the middle of feuds and expect to be coddled! Poor Me! I've been a World Champion even though I've shown no loyalty to the company whatsoever!" Seriously Eric. Fucking wah. Go fuck yourself. You want to leave? Leave. Certainly wouldn't be the first time.
*Davin leaves as Eric O'Mac just stands there holding the exacto knife, and staring at it.*
*fade*
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Post by mooseheadjack on Mar 9, 2009 9:43:36 GMT -5
As Eric leaves GM: The Rick's office, smashing into The Amnesiac with the door, he is immediately grabbed, thrown against the wall and handcuffed by a police officer.
PO: Eric O. McMahon, you are under arrest for the violation of the restraining order that Michael Riddick has taken out against you. It is my understanding that you were informed of this order against you, is that correct?
Eric's face is smashed up against the wall.
EOM: Yesh.
PO: Then here I just happen by here, watching you smash this poor guy in the face. What choice do I have but to take you downtown? I'm afraid you're not going to make it back for your match tomorrow night, sir.
The office pulls Eric off the wall, and kneels to check on The Amnesiac.
PO: Hey, are you okay, buddy?
AMN: Yeah... what happened?
PO: Don't you worry about it, The Amnesiac. I've got everything taken care of. I'm taking this scum downtown to book him for assault and violating the terms of your restraining order.
The officer walks off, pushing Eric the entire way.
*FADE*
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Post by mooseheadjack on Mar 9, 2009 9:44:00 GMT -5
(Steele watches as Firewoman continues to destroy stuff in the garage.)
Steele: Wow, so this is how you get ready for a piece of trash like Kincaid.
Firewoman: If that's the case you wouldn't want to see what I would be training with if I ever got you in the ring.
Steele: Such harsh words from such an Angel-
Firewoman: What the hell did you just call me? (Stepping in his direction.) Don't you remember you are alone.
Steele: You heard what I called you now you need to shut up and let me finish. I know that's hard for you but let me try it in words you may understand. Heel!
Firewoman: I'll give you a heel right upside the head! (She grabs him)
Steele: Not so fast. You may want to listen to what I have to tell you. I called you what I did because we are going to make you the Angel of Death. Who ever you are close to will soon start to agree with that too. Chris Evans. He was the start, soon the next will fall.
(Firewoman looks at Steele like he is sick in the head. Duh!)
Steele: To defeat evil sometimes you have to become something that is worse then what it is.
(Steele reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his IPHONE and shows Firewoman the screen.)
Firewoman: You are one sick son of a bitch!
Steele: Coming from you I take that as a complement.
(The camera pans in and it shows video of Alexis Darling going about her business like no one is watching her.)
Steele: But wait there is more. (He changes to other cameras and it shows Phantos and Lucios, and the Alexander Darling.) The brother Darling has certain hours when it can be a real nasty cam. But we can watch all of them whenever we want.
Firewoman: Why?
Steele: To make sure you don't forget about us my dear (runs his hand down her cheek, which Firewoman slaps away.) Angel of Death. That chest tube scar is nothing to what Ultimo Inc. is capable of doing.
(Firewoman is getting ready to attack.)
Steele: I wouldn't if I were you. You know Biggs is just a phone call away and is probably close to Lexie right now.
Firewoman: You will burn in hell for this one.
Steele: And I plan on taking you with me.
(Steele smiles and walks away.)
FADE
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Post by mooseheadjack on Mar 9, 2009 9:44:27 GMT -5
*EOM is walking in handcuffs when a blue haired lawyer appears.*
BHL: Officer, release this man!
PO: Why should I?
BHL: Because this restraining order is against Eric O McMahon. And that is NOT this man.
PO: And who in the hell is this man?
BHL: This is Eric Kennedy McMahon. His drivers license and birth certificate clarify that. If you want to arrest this man, check your facts first, get a correct restraining order against him, and THEN, and only then, if he violates that restraining order, you can arrest him. So release him now, or I'll have your badge.
*The police officer has no choice but to release Eric. Eric rubs his wrists together.*
Eric: Thanks Jerry.
*Eric opens the door, and wouldn't you know it, that damn Amnesiac was standing there.*
Eric: I don't have time for this shit.
*Eric walks back down the hall and grabs a chair. He sees Davin Moreland walking away from him.*
Eric: Hey Davin!
*Davin turns around. When he does, Eric BLASTS HIM with the steel chair! Davin staggers, and Eric does it again! And again! And again! Finally, Davin Moreland, busted wide open goes down.*
Eric: Next time, keep your nose out of my fucking business, jackass. I had a feeling you'd want to butt in - here's a newsflash - anything dealing me doesn't concern you. Ever. So go fuck yourself. Talk all the shit you want. Go get your boys and jump me. I don't give a damn. But if you want to jump in my shit? Expect a response, mother fucker.
*Eric walks away with the chair, sees the Amnesiac on the floor and BLASTS him one more time in the head.*
Eric: I'm sick of your shit. Get your fucking facts straight next time.
*Fade out.*
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