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Republican v Hayze - World Title Tourny: FINALS -

TheOriginalSE

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All RP for the FINALS of the WORLD TITLE TOURNY to name a new #1 Contender match between THE PHANTOM REPUBLICAN and ALISTER HAYZE at RAPTURE should be done in this folder. Any RP posted outside of the folder will not count.

The RP deadline is 11:59pm on Thursday, January 27th. Angles should be sent to sedmunds@goucher.edu ..
 

TH

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The Final Primary

The scene is the "foreign dignitary" suite at the Regina Hilton. In the backdrop, the American flag has replaced the curtains, blocking out the skyline of Saskatchewan's capital city. In the foreground is The Phantom Republican. In the background, offset to his right is a big man dressed in a black suit with a black tie, a white shirt, black sunglasses and a wire connected to his ear.

GOP: So, here we are, RAPTURE, Regina, and how fitting. Because soon, my rapture will begin. I'm guessing the moment after I've scored the pinfall victory that ensures I get my rightful shot at destroying Jean Rabesque and claiming the NEW Era Championship for the good guys, the All-Americans, for the Red States.

In my way is a man whom I have faced before, and sadly, a man who has defeated me before.

Alister Hayze, the man who would euphemistically call himself a 'free spirit,' but a man who, make no mistake about it, is a filthy hippie... well, at least he was a hippie.

Now, it's hard to pick you out of a crowd, Mr. Hayze. You've seemed to have begun blending in with the crowd. You now look more like everyone else now.

You've lost your hair. You've lost the very essence of your hippie being.

You're... conforming.

Timothy Leary must be spinning in his grave right now. The last hippie standing has begun to bow to The Man!

Oh my.

Now, I do understand that the haircut was against your will. However, your alliance with Jean Rabesque, that was all you. I'm guessing DREDD inadvertently unlocked your inner corporate sellout, because now, you've turned into the big power broker!

That's right, while the hippie Hayze might have flocked to his brethern, you went made a deal with the most powerful man in the company who wasn't in that front office, and I bet you'd do it again. Because you're selling out.

And that plays right into my hands. See, I'm the one who's supposed to be the sleazebag politician, aren't I? And I do a good job at that. But you, you've been a leftist hippie slimebucket your whole life. You don't know the world of cutthroat politics.

And that's where you will end up getting your throat cut.

I don't have half the work I need to do defeat you in the ring. Because it's been done for me.

Your spirit is broken. It was shown when you were driven into a snowbank and defeated, and when you couldn't help your partner as a bunch of Communists desecrated the name of my country on his back.

And now, you will be easy pickings for me, as easy as John McCain and all those other pretenders were to President Bush in the 2000 primaries..

Now, speaking of Rabesque, it seems Vice President Marceau has heard my demands and acted on them, keeping the foul, worthless pig masquerading as the World Champion away from ringside. Very good, Ms. Marceau. However, I trust the French and their bastard Canadian descendants as far as I can throw them, so I have procured the help of a bodyguard...

Zoom in to the man in the background.

GOP: (off camera) ...say hello to Jeffords.

Zoom out.

GOP: Jeffords is here to ensure my safety. To make sure that cowards like Rabesque or Hayze or DREDD don't harm me before I am able to challenge for the World Championship. Now, as a man of my word, as I have demanded that Rabesque be banned from ringside, I will not bring Jeffords out with me.

HOWEVER, I will stand him guard outside of Rabesque's locker room to make sure he doesn't escape to break his bond. Because we all know how well threats from the brass are received and followed and how good security is.

Don't make any false moves, Froggy. Jeffords has more musculature in his left thigh than you have in your stringy body.

Gentlemen... this primary is almost over before it even had the chance to begin. Good day.

Fade to the Republican Party logo.

GWB voice over I'm George W. Bush, and I approve this message.
 

CandyPimp

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Fade in on one Alister Hayze, a big bruise on his forehead, seated in a metal folding chair before a NEW backdrop.

ALISTER HAYZE: You know, there’s been an awful lot of nasty things said as of late. I’m particularly talking about the words that have been exchanged between myself and the champ, and the men known as DREDD. There’s been a lot of big talk, a lot of it. And hey, you know what? I’ll be the first to admit it. Yeah, I’ve done my fair share. In fact, if you look back across this storied little career of mine, I think you’ll find that I’ve done more than my fair share. But hey, that’s me. That’s what I do.

And because it’s what I do…I don’t really feel the need to make excuses. I talk big. I talk REALLY big. Sometimes it means biting off more than I can chew. Sometimes it means I get beat. And this time, I got beat.

The champ knows that I’m out there working hard. The champ knows that I’ve got his back. The champ also knows that there isn’t anyone better than me when it comes to Marx’s dirty little word…

Wrestling.

I have apologized to Rabesque. He knows that this time around, his enemy is my enemy. He knows that I’ll pull out all the stops, I will do whatever I have to do to make sure that DREDD goes down. That they lose in the end. That’s where it matters.

And yeah, I can definitely see some of the irony in me calling the guys that pinned “losers.” I realize that some are going to try and take that statement and make me look like a liar or a hypocrite. I’m no such animal. Yes, I lost, just as they have lost in the past. The difference between them and me is that when I lose, I can see that it’s my own fault. I can admit that I talked a little too big, and that I didn’t bring enough bite to back up my bark. They, on the other hand, seem to think that the solution to losing is to get together with enough other losers that you can finally defeat those that have beaten you.

I lost. Period. But now I know that I have to go harder, and I’m not such a coward that I need to take someone else by the hand. That’s what WRESTLING is all about, Jonathan. That’s the difference between you, and yours truly. It’s the difference between a loser, and the next World Heavyweight champion.

Because even though Rabesque knows that DREDD is a common enemy…he also knows that he holds something that I want. He knows that if Marx and Doe decide to get in his face, I’ll be there to back him up. At the same time, he knows that I’m winning this tournament. He knows that I’m going all-out to beat Gordon at Rapture. He knows that it’s my life’s quest to hold that belt.

Above all else, he knows that he can trust me. And I’m telling him, now, that his trust can include the peace of mind in knowing that failure is no longer an option for me. Marx will never again pin me.

Now…Mr. Gordon O. Powell. We’ve had this conversation before, haven’t we, Gordy? You’re Nazi fascist -- oops, I mean moral conservative…and I’m the no-good pinko hippie, and I’m gonna pay for it like those peaceniks at Kent State, and blah, blah, blah…

We’ve done all this before, Gop. This was already a big radio hit back in the day, and because of that, I’m sure we can all remember how it goes. I pin you, the ref says “One, two three,” and then I walk away the number one contender. Easy as whistlin’.

But now things are different, right? You have doubled your efforts in the war on terror, and you’re now certain that there’s some WMDs behind the bong in my van, and THIS TIME you’re coming straight for me, guns a-blazin’, THIS TIME, I don’t’ stand a chance. Is that right?

This time, I’m weaker, right? I’m “conforming,” simply because I got drugged and had my head shaved. I’m conforming because I’m helping a good man that needs it. I’m no longer the “free spirit” that everyone has always labeled me, just because my hair doesn’t go back my shoulders anymore. I’ve lost my edge, my gimmick, my smile. Politically speaking, I’m ripe for the chopping block.

The truth is, Gop, you’re right. I mean, I can definitely see why the public opinion would be turning against me. Without those gorgeous locks of mine, without that symbol of my hippie status, well, I’ve already lost the liberal leftist Commie vote. I’m no longer their man. And yes, you’re right, I am kinda friendly with “The Man,” with the biggest name in this promotion right now. That’s just adding respectability to my name, and Lord knows that hippies despise respectability. My biggest fans have gone right out the window.

He grows concerned, his brow furrowed as he considers what he’s saying.

HAYZE:And yeah, you’re right, I got beat. I’m looking more and more like a DREDD member and less like Alister Hayze! Oh my God, the fans are gonna riot! Public opinion of me has never been further down!!!

He freezes for a second, a look of panic on his face, which then melts back to his normal grin.

HAYZE: All of that would be right, except you’re forgetting one thing, Gordy. This ain’t politics. This is wrestling, my man, and there ain’t no one better at wrestling than me. When I walk out to the ring, I do it alone, and once I get there, I put on the greatest show on Earth. I kick ass, I take names. Me. Not the viewers at home. Not the pollsters. Me, all by my lonesome. That’s all I’ve ever needed.

You are a great political machine. Good for you. See if I care. Politics won’t beat me in the ring. Politics won’t give you a win over moi. Maybe you would run me into the ground should I ever decide to be a governor…but when it comes to this tournament…when it comes to the number one contender position…that spot is all mine.

Rabesque can stay in the back. I don’t him to win. Jeffords can stay in the back. He can’t save you. That spot is mine, Gordy, ‘cause I’m a god of wrestling, and you’re just a politician in tights.

Fade to black.

Woman’s V/O: This has been a 901 production.
 

TH

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Back at the hotel...

GOP: Well, Mr. Hayze, it seems I've ruffled your feathers a bit. It makes sense, since you're not making any yourself.

Unless you're admitting to me that you are a terrorist, there are no implications to the War on Terror for this match. Of course, being a hippie is about two steps away from being a full-on terrorist, but that's besides the point.

And unless you're admitting to me that you were the one who assumed Jay's stash of WMDs after my search of him for them went futile, I couldn't care less what you have in your van. Although once I have defeated you, I'll make sure the proper authorities take you and your vile drug paraphernalia.

No, the objective is winning this final primary race, the last one before a new man is mandated to take the World Championship away from the filthy hands of Jean Rabesque. I don't know why you'd put words in my mouth when I didn't state them.

My stated goal is to take you out. Nothing more, nothing less. And yes, while I am a master politician, I am also a damn good wrestler. You don't get this far without that talent. But you also don't get this far without being a master politician. I have lobbied, I've made the right deals, and even better, I've looked out for my interests too.

You haven't, Mr. Hayze. You're putting yourself in a conflict of interests, between helping out Rabesque and taking his title. You've compromised your beliefs to get your goals... material goals! Talk about not conforming all you want, but I've interacted with far more odious, unwashed hippies than you, and for all their leftist faults, they at least never compromised their beliefs for material goals.

But now, you're nothing but a politician and a rook politician at best. You've let the wool get pulled over your own eyes, and now, you're going to pay. You won't even get to realize your shallow dreams. But at least we'll get to see if your friendship to that toad Rabesque is real. I'm sure after you've lost, and your chances to get a chance at him go down the tubes, you'd still stick around and help him out of the goodness of your heart, right? Haha, yeah, and I voted for John Kerry in November. We all know your true colors, that you're going to dump Rabesque as soon as you don't need to protect his interests, which are your interests too, after you've lost your shot at him.

But when I win the New Era Championship, don't come crawling to me looking for a constituency. If there's anythign I hate more than a hippie, it's a fake hippie.

Fade to the GOP party logo.
 

CandyPimp

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Back on Hayze standing before an NEW banner.

ALISTER HAYZE: Well. That was informative. Seriously, I learned a lot. You said a lot to consider -- more references to contemporary politics, more right-wing rhetoric, a lot more of calling me a “hippie.” But that’s not what bothers me. You’re not the first person to call me a hippie. You’re not the first person to see me as a degenerate, a drug-taker. Not a winner.

But no, that’s not the word that bugs me. No matter who calls me that, I take it to ‘em. I show them that I’m not all flower-power and that stuff. It’s my own power that concerns me, my own ability. No, the word that you used to refer to me, the one that bothers me more than anything else, it isn’t what you might think. Not hippie.

Shallow.

You referred to this goal of mine, this dream that I will someday be the champion of the world, as “shallow.” “Selfish.” And you couldn’t be further from the truth.

Everything that I’ve done in my career -- EVERYTHING -- is because of one man. One man, that took some no-good slacker kid, a joint-toking hippie, and turned him into a phenomenon. One man, whose talent and ability were so much that he was able to take the roughest of coal and crush it, forge it, shape it…into the most beautiful of diamonds.

I talk big. I’ve admitted that. But I can. And the reason I can, is because Benito Mendoza taught me how to back it up.

Mendoza never got his shot. He never took the title. He was never the world heavyweight champion. But he should have been. He was the greatest wrestler that I’ve ever seen. He’s the whole reason that I’m here.

The only reason that I want that belt is so that I can do his memory right. So I can take this belt, and hold it up to Heaven, and say, “Look. You did it. Your abilities, your talents.

“They won a championship.”

It’s not about politics, it’s not about power. It’s about ability, and talent. It’s about the one thing in this world that I want. The only thing. The belt.

You’re a fool if you believe that you can match me. A fool. Because, by your own admission, you have gotten where you are by supplementing your talent, your wrestling prowess, with your political abilities. You needed to grease the wheels, you had to lobby, had to make the right deals. You had to help yourself along. And me?

I’m here just because I’m that damn good.

That’s your failing, pal. I'm not fake. I’m not a hypocrite, I’m not a backstabber, I’m not a traitor. I’ve never made it a secret. I want that belt. It’s not for me, it’s for Mendoza, and that works out in my favor. If you track my life, if you follow the line that is old Al’s story, you’ll see that I have never, ever stood up for myself. I was a no-good kid and a waste of space. But now I have someone else to fight for. To stand up for. Ever since Mendoza came into my life, I have had a reason to face any challenge that comes my way.

And he’s someone that I will wage a war for.

Fade to black.

Woman’s V/O: This has been a 901 production.
 

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