RP Museum (Old RP)
- Thread starter Steve
- Start date
Re: LVW Week 5 - Prelude Lineup!
Note - I stuck the RP subjects for the next card over in the "RP Lounge" for now so to not spoil the last card due to the subject titles.
Go there to RP - the subjects will be moved into this topic late-Monday, but don't let that stop you from getting to RPing NOW!
Paul
Note - I stuck the RP subjects for the next card over in the "RP Lounge" for now so to not spoil the last card due to the subject titles.
Go there to RP - the subjects will be moved into this topic late-Monday, but don't let that stop you from getting to RPing NOW!
Paul
John Doe
The Anorexic Ethiopian
Re: Week 5 (Prelude) - CLUBS FINAL - El Gordo Grande v. Hans Nowak
Brought to you in SAP
FADEIN….
El Gordo Grande is standing in front of an LVW background. Mexican Radio playing softly in the background. El Gordo Grande looks at the camera his mask on, hands on his hips. White t-shirt, Mexican flag in the middle.
EGG:
La semana pasada yo salí increíblemente con una victoria. ¡Tiré lejos un último segundo mueve y entonces bam! Apenas como Santa Anna yo tuve una victoria. Una victoria larga del disparo, pero una victoria. Y ahora avanzaré en este torneo para ganar el premio más grande en la compañía, el mundo el título pesado. No sólo que obtengo para encarar la Máquina polaca de la Guerra Han Nowak
(Last week I unbelievably came out with a win. I pulled off a last second move and then bam! Just like Santa Anna I had a victory. A long shot victory, but a victory. And now I will advance in this tournament in order to win the biggest prize in the company, the world heavyweight title. Not only that I get to face the Polish War Machine Hans Nowak.)
Vi sus habilidades de lucha la semana pasada Han, usted es un hombre técnico. Usted quiere que las cosas vayan su manera o usted falla. Han, no se sienten desilusionaron si usted cae a mí yo quiero que usted recuerde que el mejor hombre avanzará. Si sucede serme, bien no los sentimientos duros Han
(I saw your wrestling abilities last week Hans, you are a technical man. You like things to go your way or you fail. Hans, don’t feel disappointed if you fall to me I want you to remember that the best man will advance. If it happens to be me, well no hard feelings Hans.)
No sólo que Han, esta semana yo soy un paso más cerca a llegar a ser al campeón. Después que esta semana que estaré aún más cerca. Yo le tomo como un adversario grave. No me subestime Han, yo puedo ser un poco de peso excesivo, un pedacito de tad alto, pero eso no significan nada cuando se baja a agudezas. Y mis agudezas aventajan suyo.
(Not only that Hans, this week I am one step closer to becoming the champion. After this week I will be even closer. I take you as a serious opponent. Don’t underestimate me Hans, I may be a bit overweight, a tad bit tall, but that means nothing when it comes down to wits. And my wits outdo yours.)
Yo aquí he estado entrenando muy duramente. Trabajar mi cuerpo, y poniendo una exposición para los ventiladores, y para los ventiladores sólo. Y para los ventiladores yo ganaré esta semana y la caminata fuera con otra victoria. Y después que usted el próximo hombre caerá a mí como bien Han. Es apenas un asunto de cuándo hace el título está alrededor de la cintura
(I have been here training very hard. Working my body, and putting on a show for the fans, and the fans alone. And for the fans I will win this week and walk out with another win. And after you the next man will fall to me as well Hans. It’s just a matter of how soon will the title be around my waist.)
Es sólo un asunto de tiempo. La semana pasada yo tuve el mejor igual de mi carrera. Gran deportividad y un gran igual general. Tengo la misma esperanza para usted Han. No sólo que asumo que usted será un adversario duro y me proporciona con un desafío
(It’s only a matter of time. Last week I had the best match of my career. Great sportsmanship and a great overall match. I have the same expectation for you Hans. Not only that I assume that you will be a tough opponent and provide me with a challenge.)
Ese desafío se encontrará y será vence a largo plazo Han. En el regreso que proporcionaré usted con el mismo desafío, un desafío que usted tendrá problemas alcanzando. Un desafío que usted caerá a. Y al fin le estará levantando de la estera y sacudir la mano en el deporte bueno
(That challenge will be met and will be overcome in the long run Hans. In return I will provide you with the same challenge, a challenge that you will have a hard time accomplishing. A challenge you will fall to. And in the end it will be lifting you from the mat and shaking your hand in good sport.)
Con que espero que usted entienda que lo que sucede, suceda. Así que es si usted debe ganar. Es un Han fortuitos delgados, pero es una oportunidad, si usted gana y continúa, bien entonces la velocidad de Dios Han
(With that I hope you understand that what happens, happens. So be it if you should win. It is a slim chance Hans, but it is a chance, if you do win and carry on, well then God’s speed Hans.)
Pero cuando mi padre me dijo, no cuento sus pollos antes ellos salen del huevo. Y con que viene una lección usted aprenderá a Han. Una lección que tengo sentía y una lección que yo no experimentaré otra vez. Eso es una promesa
(But as my father told me, don’t count your chickens before they hatch. And with that comes a lesson you shall learn Hans. A lesson I have felt and a lesson I will not experience again. That is a promise.)
Una razón yo me encuentro capaz de derrotarle Han no son porque usted retransmite en pura fuerza y en su habilidad en el anillo. Cualquiera y hace a sí mismo a una persona fuerte, no todos y compite en el mejor deporte en el mundo. Y cuando un hombre que es informado en el arte de este deporte que yo le encuentra Han como un adversario cómo relevos en su fuerza y la fuerza solas.
(A reason I find myself able to defeat you Hans is because you relay on pure strength and not your ability in the ring. Anybody and make themselves a strong person, not everybody and compete in the best sport in the world. And as a man who is knowledgeable in the art of this sport I find you Hans as an opponent how relays on his strength and strength alone.)
Eso es su caída Han, su fuerza le puede fallar. Un consciente del talento y el conocimiento del deporte aventajará a cualquier hombre que abruma. Eso es la verdad
(That is your downfall Hans, your strength can fail you. A mindful of talent and knowledge of the sport will outdo any overpowering man. That is the truth.)
Amigo de buena suerte. Usted lo necesitará
(Good luck friend. You will need it)
“VIVA LAS VEGAS!”
FADEOUT
Brought to you in SAP
FADEIN….
El Gordo Grande is standing in front of an LVW background. Mexican Radio playing softly in the background. El Gordo Grande looks at the camera his mask on, hands on his hips. White t-shirt, Mexican flag in the middle.
EGG:
La semana pasada yo salí increíblemente con una victoria. ¡Tiré lejos un último segundo mueve y entonces bam! Apenas como Santa Anna yo tuve una victoria. Una victoria larga del disparo, pero una victoria. Y ahora avanzaré en este torneo para ganar el premio más grande en la compañía, el mundo el título pesado. No sólo que obtengo para encarar la Máquina polaca de la Guerra Han Nowak
(Last week I unbelievably came out with a win. I pulled off a last second move and then bam! Just like Santa Anna I had a victory. A long shot victory, but a victory. And now I will advance in this tournament in order to win the biggest prize in the company, the world heavyweight title. Not only that I get to face the Polish War Machine Hans Nowak.)
Vi sus habilidades de lucha la semana pasada Han, usted es un hombre técnico. Usted quiere que las cosas vayan su manera o usted falla. Han, no se sienten desilusionaron si usted cae a mí yo quiero que usted recuerde que el mejor hombre avanzará. Si sucede serme, bien no los sentimientos duros Han
(I saw your wrestling abilities last week Hans, you are a technical man. You like things to go your way or you fail. Hans, don’t feel disappointed if you fall to me I want you to remember that the best man will advance. If it happens to be me, well no hard feelings Hans.)
No sólo que Han, esta semana yo soy un paso más cerca a llegar a ser al campeón. Después que esta semana que estaré aún más cerca. Yo le tomo como un adversario grave. No me subestime Han, yo puedo ser un poco de peso excesivo, un pedacito de tad alto, pero eso no significan nada cuando se baja a agudezas. Y mis agudezas aventajan suyo.
(Not only that Hans, this week I am one step closer to becoming the champion. After this week I will be even closer. I take you as a serious opponent. Don’t underestimate me Hans, I may be a bit overweight, a tad bit tall, but that means nothing when it comes down to wits. And my wits outdo yours.)
Yo aquí he estado entrenando muy duramente. Trabajar mi cuerpo, y poniendo una exposición para los ventiladores, y para los ventiladores sólo. Y para los ventiladores yo ganaré esta semana y la caminata fuera con otra victoria. Y después que usted el próximo hombre caerá a mí como bien Han. Es apenas un asunto de cuándo hace el título está alrededor de la cintura
(I have been here training very hard. Working my body, and putting on a show for the fans, and the fans alone. And for the fans I will win this week and walk out with another win. And after you the next man will fall to me as well Hans. It’s just a matter of how soon will the title be around my waist.)
Es sólo un asunto de tiempo. La semana pasada yo tuve el mejor igual de mi carrera. Gran deportividad y un gran igual general. Tengo la misma esperanza para usted Han. No sólo que asumo que usted será un adversario duro y me proporciona con un desafío
(It’s only a matter of time. Last week I had the best match of my career. Great sportsmanship and a great overall match. I have the same expectation for you Hans. Not only that I assume that you will be a tough opponent and provide me with a challenge.)
Ese desafío se encontrará y será vence a largo plazo Han. En el regreso que proporcionaré usted con el mismo desafío, un desafío que usted tendrá problemas alcanzando. Un desafío que usted caerá a. Y al fin le estará levantando de la estera y sacudir la mano en el deporte bueno
(That challenge will be met and will be overcome in the long run Hans. In return I will provide you with the same challenge, a challenge that you will have a hard time accomplishing. A challenge you will fall to. And in the end it will be lifting you from the mat and shaking your hand in good sport.)
Con que espero que usted entienda que lo que sucede, suceda. Así que es si usted debe ganar. Es un Han fortuitos delgados, pero es una oportunidad, si usted gana y continúa, bien entonces la velocidad de Dios Han
(With that I hope you understand that what happens, happens. So be it if you should win. It is a slim chance Hans, but it is a chance, if you do win and carry on, well then God’s speed Hans.)
Pero cuando mi padre me dijo, no cuento sus pollos antes ellos salen del huevo. Y con que viene una lección usted aprenderá a Han. Una lección que tengo sentía y una lección que yo no experimentaré otra vez. Eso es una promesa
(But as my father told me, don’t count your chickens before they hatch. And with that comes a lesson you shall learn Hans. A lesson I have felt and a lesson I will not experience again. That is a promise.)
Una razón yo me encuentro capaz de derrotarle Han no son porque usted retransmite en pura fuerza y en su habilidad en el anillo. Cualquiera y hace a sí mismo a una persona fuerte, no todos y compite en el mejor deporte en el mundo. Y cuando un hombre que es informado en el arte de este deporte que yo le encuentra Han como un adversario cómo relevos en su fuerza y la fuerza solas.
(A reason I find myself able to defeat you Hans is because you relay on pure strength and not your ability in the ring. Anybody and make themselves a strong person, not everybody and compete in the best sport in the world. And as a man who is knowledgeable in the art of this sport I find you Hans as an opponent how relays on his strength and strength alone.)
Eso es su caída Han, su fuerza le puede fallar. Un consciente del talento y el conocimiento del deporte aventajará a cualquier hombre que abruma. Eso es la verdad
(That is your downfall Hans, your strength can fail you. A mindful of talent and knowledge of the sport will outdo any overpowering man. That is the truth.)
Amigo de buena suerte. Usted lo necesitará
(Good luck friend. You will need it)
“VIVA LAS VEGAS!”
FADEOUT
John Doe
The Anorexic Ethiopian
Re: Week 5 (Prelude) - CLUBS FINAL - El Gordo Grande v. Hans Nowak
¡Golpee el Choque del Choque del Choque Arriba!
(BUMP BUMP BUMP BUMP IT UP!)
¡Golpee el Choque del Choque del Choque Arriba!
(BUMP BUMP BUMP BUMP IT UP!)
Manson
League Member
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 382
- Points
- 0
Vanishing Act
(FADEIN: A stage at empty club where a giant hat stands upside down. Suddenly, EL MAGICK-O climbs out of the hat and stumbles on his weay down, but lands in a forward roll and comes to his feet....with PANACHE! Somehow his regular top hat stays on his head. He's wearing a red bodysuit with blue stars and comets streaing across it and a bat top hat with a red bill. Alternating reds make up the concentric circles on his facemask. He spread his arms and bows.)
EL MAGICK-O: .....and now for my next trick...after raising the dead....ordering it to crumble like the dust that it truly is...and then pinning iut for the 1...the 2..and the 3...I now have to face something far more horrifying than the dead not only walking amongst us, but wrestling!
And this, of course, is a cowboy.
Those chaps and that hat just makes my skin crawl, but, as a performer to millions, and the future and first LVW World Heavyweight Champion, I have a duty to my audience to maintain composure in the most deadliest of death traps.
Now I could demean James Donovan's victory last week over Gladiator by giving you all a detailed account of the show I did down in New Mexico where I vanished into my time cabinet and accidentally killed Spartacus, and thus had to lead his hisstorically-famous slave revolt myself, but then I'd have to tell you how I got my one and only chance to come back to the future and had to desert my legiosn to the Romans.
But I had to do what I had to do.
Not only so I could cash in on this time travel deal, but so I could save the world!
And then cash in on that.
Surely you've seen the skies darkening. And with the dead and cowboys walking amongst us, what could be next?
Only I stand, the master of the mystic and gential arts, to defend us all from that apporaching evil.
Thats why I had to perfect myself a professional wrestler in addition to making an extra paycheck for when my racehorses don't aways come through.
But how do I stop an indomitable cowboy monstrocity like James Donovan?
Well, the fates smiled on me last week, and which was really strange since I owe them 10 grand, but smile they did, probably because they remember what the "O" stands for.
Anyway, after my match with the Living Dead, I celebrated my victory by holding auditions for assistants in my hotel room. After the last, tiring round, I gazed into my bathroom sink and scried and saw James Donovan's weakness!
Or maybe that was just pillow talk.
Who knows how the dark secrets pass from world to world?
But our cowboy has a taste for prostitutes.
Now as a wrestler and magicians, I won't demean the world's oldest profession, and who among us hasn't woken up next to a dead hooker once or twice?
Luckily, I knew how to make them disappear....
And I'll perform this task, for a standard fee, for James Donovan....so long as he swears to to submit to the power of EL MAGICK-O as he levitates up the ranks of LVW and becomes its first and greatest champion...one that will save this world....this universe...and everyone's very soul!
Note, there's up either of my sleeves when I claim this....but there's always more....but that's what I have to leave you, and all the panting ladies, like any great artist does.
(Smoke flashes and EL MAGICK-O vanishes.)
(FADEIN: A stage at empty club where a giant hat stands upside down. Suddenly, EL MAGICK-O climbs out of the hat and stumbles on his weay down, but lands in a forward roll and comes to his feet....with PANACHE! Somehow his regular top hat stays on his head. He's wearing a red bodysuit with blue stars and comets streaing across it and a bat top hat with a red bill. Alternating reds make up the concentric circles on his facemask. He spread his arms and bows.)
EL MAGICK-O: .....and now for my next trick...after raising the dead....ordering it to crumble like the dust that it truly is...and then pinning iut for the 1...the 2..and the 3...I now have to face something far more horrifying than the dead not only walking amongst us, but wrestling!
And this, of course, is a cowboy.
Those chaps and that hat just makes my skin crawl, but, as a performer to millions, and the future and first LVW World Heavyweight Champion, I have a duty to my audience to maintain composure in the most deadliest of death traps.
Now I could demean James Donovan's victory last week over Gladiator by giving you all a detailed account of the show I did down in New Mexico where I vanished into my time cabinet and accidentally killed Spartacus, and thus had to lead his hisstorically-famous slave revolt myself, but then I'd have to tell you how I got my one and only chance to come back to the future and had to desert my legiosn to the Romans.
But I had to do what I had to do.
Not only so I could cash in on this time travel deal, but so I could save the world!
And then cash in on that.
Surely you've seen the skies darkening. And with the dead and cowboys walking amongst us, what could be next?
Only I stand, the master of the mystic and gential arts, to defend us all from that apporaching evil.
Thats why I had to perfect myself a professional wrestler in addition to making an extra paycheck for when my racehorses don't aways come through.
But how do I stop an indomitable cowboy monstrocity like James Donovan?
Well, the fates smiled on me last week, and which was really strange since I owe them 10 grand, but smile they did, probably because they remember what the "O" stands for.
Anyway, after my match with the Living Dead, I celebrated my victory by holding auditions for assistants in my hotel room. After the last, tiring round, I gazed into my bathroom sink and scried and saw James Donovan's weakness!
Or maybe that was just pillow talk.
Who knows how the dark secrets pass from world to world?
But our cowboy has a taste for prostitutes.
Now as a wrestler and magicians, I won't demean the world's oldest profession, and who among us hasn't woken up next to a dead hooker once or twice?
Luckily, I knew how to make them disappear....
And I'll perform this task, for a standard fee, for James Donovan....so long as he swears to to submit to the power of EL MAGICK-O as he levitates up the ranks of LVW and becomes its first and greatest champion...one that will save this world....this universe...and everyone's very soul!
Note, there's up either of my sleeves when I claim this....but there's always more....but that's what I have to leave you, and all the panting ladies, like any great artist does.
(Smoke flashes and EL MAGICK-O vanishes.)
TH
Active member
- Joined
- Jun 18, 2004
- Messages
- 2,953
- Points
- 36
- Age
- 42
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- Philadelphia
- Website
- wallsofjerichoholic.blogspot.com
Re: Vanishing Act
"You bastard..."
Pahrump waiting room. C'mon, you expected him to be anywhere else?
JD: Why you cotton-pickin' no good, dirty son of a sow. It's one thing to come up in here and make fun 'a me fer bein' from Oklahomie, and it's one thing to be puttin' down them folks who done made this country great by herdin' the cattle and shootin' them dang redskins when they come raidin' the townsfolk.
But it's a whole different thing to be admittin' to killin' hookers. That just makes me get all darn-tootin' mad, and you ain't gonna like me when I'm darn-tootin' mad now, I reckon.
I mean, it's bad enough that you done admitted to wakin' up next to a hooker, cuz that's just rude and ain't mannerly now. I mean, they gots to make a livin' by f*ckin' their way 'round the neighborhood, and if yer keepin' 'em in bed, then yer keepin' em from puttin' food on their table. That ain't right. How'd you like it if I done stole yer magic hat or yer magic mirror or yer magic dildo I seen you use on stage that one time I saw you at the Copa? I bet you wouldn't be too happy wit' that, I reckon.
But then you go an' kill 'em? Why Mr. Magician Man? What have they ever done so bad that y'all had to kill 'em? Hookers are people too, and they're people who'll done f*ck you if ya pay 'em. I don't see no reason that they gots to die. I mean, just cuz they ain't got all their teeth, or cuz they have saggy titties don't mean they ain't as much a man or woman as you is. They deserves to live too.
An' that's why I gots to beat you this week. Not just fer the shot at the LVW World Championship, cuz that's prize enough, but now I gots to avenge those sweet, lovable hookers you done murdered. And I gots to make sure you don't kill no more hookers anymore, like the lovely gals here at Pahrump.
An' to think we coulda gotten along just fine, cuz we both like the same things. Magic, shiny things and women.
But you had to go and admit that. Well pardner, I hates to break it to ya, but I'm comin' after ya to gets me some revenge for those dead hookers. Cuz the only good hooker is one ya can still pay to give you head.
Fade to the LVW logo.
"You bastard..."
Pahrump waiting room. C'mon, you expected him to be anywhere else?
JD: Why you cotton-pickin' no good, dirty son of a sow. It's one thing to come up in here and make fun 'a me fer bein' from Oklahomie, and it's one thing to be puttin' down them folks who done made this country great by herdin' the cattle and shootin' them dang redskins when they come raidin' the townsfolk.
But it's a whole different thing to be admittin' to killin' hookers. That just makes me get all darn-tootin' mad, and you ain't gonna like me when I'm darn-tootin' mad now, I reckon.
I mean, it's bad enough that you done admitted to wakin' up next to a hooker, cuz that's just rude and ain't mannerly now. I mean, they gots to make a livin' by f*ckin' their way 'round the neighborhood, and if yer keepin' 'em in bed, then yer keepin' em from puttin' food on their table. That ain't right. How'd you like it if I done stole yer magic hat or yer magic mirror or yer magic dildo I seen you use on stage that one time I saw you at the Copa? I bet you wouldn't be too happy wit' that, I reckon.
But then you go an' kill 'em? Why Mr. Magician Man? What have they ever done so bad that y'all had to kill 'em? Hookers are people too, and they're people who'll done f*ck you if ya pay 'em. I don't see no reason that they gots to die. I mean, just cuz they ain't got all their teeth, or cuz they have saggy titties don't mean they ain't as much a man or woman as you is. They deserves to live too.
An' that's why I gots to beat you this week. Not just fer the shot at the LVW World Championship, cuz that's prize enough, but now I gots to avenge those sweet, lovable hookers you done murdered. And I gots to make sure you don't kill no more hookers anymore, like the lovely gals here at Pahrump.
An' to think we coulda gotten along just fine, cuz we both like the same things. Magic, shiny things and women.
But you had to go and admit that. Well pardner, I hates to break it to ya, but I'm comin' after ya to gets me some revenge for those dead hookers. Cuz the only good hooker is one ya can still pay to give you head.
Fade to the LVW logo.
DizzaHizza
Official Unofficial FW Party Pimp
Re: Week 5 (Prelude) - SPADES FINAL - Olvir Arsvinnar v. Elvis Aaron Presley
E.A.P.: "HAVE MERCY!"
* Elvis runs into the Monte Carlo Hotel & Casino. He ducks into Lance Burton's Magic Shop as two swamp-donkeys run past him. A closer look at Elvis shows a few lipstick marks on his cheeks, his sunglasses are tilted, and his hair is quite disheveled. *
E.A.P.: "Holy moley! You'd think that bein' the King would come with all the pretty mama's that you could shake a hip at. Instead, I have to deal with women that look like a fire got put out on their faces with a wet chain. At least in Vegas, there's some show girls, but you gotta be careful! Las Vegas: where men are men, and some women are men also.
I need to find a glamour shop to get prettied up, but while I meander slowly down the strip, why don'tcha follow da' King?
What I guess the LVDubya camera's are here for are to hear me gloat about my victory over Jack House. Looks like I'm the first person in Vegas to walk away from busting the house. Now, I've made it on to the semis for that OH-SO-PRETTY title! But I've got time to rest my wounds before I go against a man who's more of a giant than any man.
I'm ready to tie-up and throw down Olvir. In the ring of course! I don't want him to do duty to this booty, baby! In fact, maybe after I advance to the finals I can ask the big man for some tips on gettin' the PRETTY ladies!
After all, he's the Sire of Sleaze and I'm the King of Cool, and together, we've banged everything from Anna Nicole, pre-Trim Spa, to Lisa Marie Pres...
Well, maybe not that far, but there's a reason that daddy's little girl married Michael Jackson...
Uh-oh...they're back. If you'll excuse me, I gotta get to runnin-running! HAVE MERCY, MAMAS!"
* Elvis tears ass down the strip towards Mandalay Bay as the uggos chase him down. *
E.A.P.: "HAVE MERCY!"
* Elvis runs into the Monte Carlo Hotel & Casino. He ducks into Lance Burton's Magic Shop as two swamp-donkeys run past him. A closer look at Elvis shows a few lipstick marks on his cheeks, his sunglasses are tilted, and his hair is quite disheveled. *
E.A.P.: "Holy moley! You'd think that bein' the King would come with all the pretty mama's that you could shake a hip at. Instead, I have to deal with women that look like a fire got put out on their faces with a wet chain. At least in Vegas, there's some show girls, but you gotta be careful! Las Vegas: where men are men, and some women are men also.
I need to find a glamour shop to get prettied up, but while I meander slowly down the strip, why don'tcha follow da' King?
What I guess the LVDubya camera's are here for are to hear me gloat about my victory over Jack House. Looks like I'm the first person in Vegas to walk away from busting the house. Now, I've made it on to the semis for that OH-SO-PRETTY title! But I've got time to rest my wounds before I go against a man who's more of a giant than any man.
I'm ready to tie-up and throw down Olvir. In the ring of course! I don't want him to do duty to this booty, baby! In fact, maybe after I advance to the finals I can ask the big man for some tips on gettin' the PRETTY ladies!
After all, he's the Sire of Sleaze and I'm the King of Cool, and together, we've banged everything from Anna Nicole, pre-Trim Spa, to Lisa Marie Pres...
Well, maybe not that far, but there's a reason that daddy's little girl married Michael Jackson...
Uh-oh...they're back. If you'll excuse me, I gotta get to runnin-running! HAVE MERCY, MAMAS!"
* Elvis tears ass down the strip towards Mandalay Bay as the uggos chase him down. *
Valhalla Productions 002 - Norsemen Like It Hound-Doggie Style
SCENE BEGINS
(We open on a finely suited man with his back to the camera, making his way down a luxuriously furnished hotel hallway, the luxury suite section. His destination, at the end of the hall, is a set of double doors with two golden spears crossed above. As he nears them, a rhythmetic bumping sound can be heard getting louder with every step. The man in the suit stops at the door, where the sound is now accompanied by the pleasured moans, groans, and pants of more than one woman inside the room. The man looks over his shoulder, briefly exposing his face and reveal himself as LVW's talent rep Erik Black, and after a moment's hesitation, knocks.)
(The bumping sound ends at once, followed by an irritated and deep-pitched grumble. The sound of quick and heavy footsteps can be heard on the other side, and all at once the doors swing open. Black yelps and cringes in terror as Olvir Arsvinnar, clothed only in a royal blue robe--thankfully tied at the waist--and his trademark helmet, stands with a sneer, intense eyes, and a battle axe held over his head.)
Olvir Arsvinnar
Who dares disturb the mighty festivities of Olvir the Great!?
(Upon recognizing the suited man, Olvir's rage quickly melts away, and a broad smile comes upon his face.)
Olvir Arsvinnar
Erik the Miniscule! How good of you to visit me at my home!
(Olvir tosses the battle axe aside, and something that sounds expensive breaks off screen. He steps forward and draws Erik into a suffocating bearhug. The talent rep's eyes can be seen bulging over Olvir's mighty bicep as his face is buried into his rippling pectorals. He scrambles wildly like a dog with its head trapped in an electric window, until finally the Viking releases him. Erik steps back panting heavily, hair messed up, his suit in disorder.)
Erik Black
Jesus, Olvir...
Olvir Arsvinnar
You have come to partake in my celebrating then, yes?
Erik Black
A victory celebration?
Olvir Arsvinnar
Of course, puny-pecker!! A celebration for my victory!! My victory... in showing the world that I am the greatest warrior alive!! HA HA HA HA!!
(He throws his head back as he laughs triumphantly, and the camera zooms on this defining pose.)
(Camera zooms out to fit Black into the frame, who looks puzzled.)
Erik Black
Greatest warrior alive? But Olvir, all you did was beat one guy! I mean, we've still got the finals, and--
Olvir Arsvinnar
Enough talk! Please come in and engage in my celebrating!
Erik Black
Engage in your...? Ah, no thanks, Olvir, but thanks for the offer. I was hoping I could just talk to you man to man, cause you see, I didn't think you'd have any company over. Has to do with business at LVW.
Olvir Arsvinnar
Las Vegas Wrestling, you say? Very well then! I believe I have done enough violating of the buttocks for the past week! Wait here just a moment while I empty my mead hall...
(Olvir disappears within his room again, and his great voice can be hear bellowing from within.)
Olvir Arsvinnar
The Great Olvir no longer desires your company! Begone, all of you, until I summon you again!
(Thus begins the train of people exiting Olvir's suite...)
(A stunning brunette in red lingerie...)
(A stunning blonde in black lingerie...)
(A petite Asian in an schoolgirl outfit...)
(Two redhead twins, one dressed in leather bondage apparel and the other dressed like Raquel Welch in that one movie with Harvey Keitel where they were all ambulance drivers only they ran their place like a competitive business instead of a hospital... that was a cool movie, whatever it was...)
(Two Siamese twins, connected at the cheekbone...)
(A plumber...)
(Three rodeo clowns, one fat, one thin, one short...)
(A pint-sized furry purple elephant. As he passes by Erik, costume-wearer pulls off the headpiece, revealing a sweat-drenched dwarf inside. He waves his hand in front of his face as though smelling something rank.)
Dwarf Dressed as Purple Elephant
Whew, buddy... you might want to give it a few minutes before you go in there. I've been farting all night.
(With another flatulent squeak, the dwarf moves on. One final person meekly pokes her head out of the doorway, wearing only a sheet. Black's eyes widen immediately: it's the secretary from LVW's offices, plucked away at the conclusion of Olvir's last film.)
Erik Black
J-Judy?!
Judy the Secretary
OH! Mr. Black! Uh... didn't expect YOU to be here!
Erik Black
The same. What the hell was going on in there?
Judy the Secretary
In there? Oh, uh... nothing much.
(Judy quickly tip-toes out of the frame, and Erik enters the room.)
(Olvir's place is furnished as one would expect a Viking to decorate his mead hall. Walls have been fashioned to look like gray stone bricks, light source comes from a series of torches, furs, hides, and heads of felled beasts hanging proudly on display, and of course we can't overlook the great banquet table in the center of the room. Erik passes by an open doorway, and he looks in to see Olvir's bedchamber, a pit lined with furs. Black winces as though he caught a drift of something unpleasant.)
Erik Black
Oh, God, that midgit wasn't kidding!
(He moves on to the other side of the table, where Olvir fills his horn with another healthy pint of mead. In one corner resides a bigscreen TV.)
Olvir Arsvinnar
So, Erik the Short... what is it you have to discuss with ME, the greatest warrior to have ever raised the mighty steel!
Erik Black
Well, I was just hoping to see if you were preparing for you next match.
Olvir Arsvinnar
Next match? What match!? I have beaten Shorty, have I not?!
Erik Black
But Olvir, that was only the first round of the tournament! There are still two matches to go before you get the World Title!
Olvir Arsvinnar
The Great Olvir cares not for any tournament!! I have proven myself! The lords of Las Vegas should hand me that title NOW!!
(To emphasize his anger, he slams his fist into the table. Erik looks slightly worried, but stands his ground.)
Erik Black
Nobody's denying to had a good match against Shorty, Olvir. Hell, you practically tore him a new asshole. The problem, however, is that the executives have only seen you in one match. You gotta go the full nine yards to earn that title, and that includes the Spades Finals and the four corners match for the strap.
Olvir Arsvinnar
I believe I'm beginning to understand, tiny man! Yes, beating only one man, especially as small and weak as Shorty, proves nothing to the lords and the people. Two matches, you say? Very well, I shall face these challenges and conquer my opponents, and THEN they will understand who the greatest warrior truly is!
Erik Black
Exactly.
Olvir Arsvinnar
Who is my next opponent?
Erik Black
Elvis Aaron Presley. Well, not the REAL Elvis Aaron Presley... this guy's just an impersonator, you see...
Olvir Arsvinnar
No, I do not see. Who is this "Elvis"? Another puny man?
Erik Black
Well, not quite. You see, Elvis was an important staple a while back... before you were... well, found frozen in ice, or whatever. He was a musician, an actor, and an overall entertainer. Many called him the "King of Rock and Roll".
Olvir Arsvinnar
A king! Such news... then he is truly worthy to wage war against the great viking, Olvir Arsvinnar!
Erik Black
He truly made his mark here in Las Vegas and inspired the lives of people across the world. But that was years ago. You see, the real Elvis died a while back.
Olvir Arsvinnar
Ah! And his spirit has returned from the Land of the Gloomy to wage war against the living!
Erik Black
Well, no... uh, how can I explain this to you... okay, think if you died.
Olvir Arsvinnar
But I am invincible!
Erik Black
Yeah, but just pretend for a moment. Once you're gone, the people would be without a great warrior such as yourself in their presence. They would feel empty, exposed, and vulnerable. So, to help the situation, a few brave souls decide to make themselves look like you, and dress like you, and act like you, and fight like you. They IMPERSONATE you, to make people feel like the real thing is still there.
Olvir Arsvinnar
..............................................................what an ABHORRED notion!! There is only ONE Great Olvir, and no man could EVER live to the level of greatness I've achieved! Any such man who dares TRY should be beheaded for such heresy!!
Erik Black
Ah, well...
Olvir Arsvinnar
So, by your words, this "Elvis" is not the TRUE "King" he claims to be? He is an imposter of royalty, an offense that in my culture is punishable by death!! I shall SMITE him in that glorious ring for this insult!!
Erik Black
Hang on a sec... did you even see his promo?
Olvir Arsvinnar
Promo? What do you speak of?
(Erik opens his jacket and pulls out a disc, which he brings to the TV.)
Erik Black
Elvis had a few words to say about you and the upcoming match... you see, it's a standard practice in professional wrestling: two guys wage war with words to build hype for the match, then they meet in the ring to settle the score with their fists. Elvis made the first move with this...
(Erik turns on the TV, inserts the disc, and the antics of LVW's Elvis Aaron Presley escaping a train of ugly women appear on the screen. Olvir watches intent, eyes never blinking as he watches the promo in its entirity. Finally, it ends. Erik looks to the Viking.)
Erik Black
Well, Olvir... what do you think?
Olvir Arsvinnar
Well, Erik the Wee, I shall tell you of the thoughts on my mind...
The man who just appeared on my magic box... his words... his actions...
That...
Was...
MOST...
ENTERTAINING!!
(Hands clutching his sides, Olvir falls into his throne with bellowing, tearful laughter that fills the entire room. Even the talent rep takes a step back, possibly unsure if the great man will explode.)
Olvir Arsvinnar
This Elvis is quite a jester! Running from his ugly wenches... his bold claims to defeat me... what was it he said, Erik? "Duty on his booty"? HA HA HA HA!!
Does he truly think he can defeat me? Does he think he can fully dominate the arse of the greatest living warrior? THIS arse?
(Olvir comes out of his throne, turns his back to the camera, and hikes up his robe to reveal his certifiably chiseled buttocks. Erik, eyes clenched shut, tears his face away.)
Olvir Arsvinnar
This mighty arse?! No many can align their foot with this strong buttocks? How many?! Tell me, Erik the Feeble! Feast your eyes upon my great buttocks!!
Erik Black
No, Olvir, that's okay, I don't want to see your butt.
(In one swipe of his arm, Olvir grabs his talent rep by the head and brings his nose within inches of his rump. Erik's expression morphs within seconds from shock to disgust to impressed to panicky.)
Olvir Arsvinnar
Feast, FEEEAAASST!! Know what a true man's arse is!
Erik Black
Yes, yes, Olvir, you're ass is great, just please, for the love of God, LET ME GO!!
(Olvir releases the smaller man who quickly finds his distance. Olvir, dropping the robe over his lower half, throws his head back and laughs.)
Olvir Arsvinnar
HA HA HA HA!!
Erik Black
Jesus... in any case, Olvir, in spite of however amusing you may find it, Elvis Aaron Presley is going into that ring, and he means business to beat you there in front of everybody. Don't take him lightly.
(With a devlish grin, Olvir draws a great warhammer.)
Olvir Arsvinnar
Certainly not. There is nothing to fear, wimpy-willy! I will meet this Elvis in the ring... and while he comes with intent to defeat me, I will show him what a TRUE king is made of! I am no imposter of a great, invincible man: I am the real thing!
And perhaps when I am done, as he suggests, I will show him that a woman's true beauty lies not in her face...
It lies in her arse! HA HA HA HA!!
I am Olvir Arsvinnar, the greatest warrior in the world, and I will prove it to HIM when it comes time to trade mighty blows!!
(In one mighty swing, Olvir plunges the blunt side of the hammer into the bigscreen TV, directly into the face of Elvis Aaron Presley on screen. The broken screen goes to static, and the Viking laughs again.)
Olvir Arsvinnar
Come! Let us find this imposter and do away with him before he has a chance to find the ring!
Erik Black
What are you--hey, where you going?
(Bounding like a berserker, Olvir disappears into his bed chamber. A moment later, he reappears in his traditional battle gear, battle axe clutched tightly in his hands. Laughing widly, he disappears through the double doors to his suite. Erik Black, not certain of what is going on, runs after him.)
(We cut to the streets of Las Vegas, where Olvir Arsvinnar makes an aimless beeline down the sidewalk, taking out random pedestrians who aren't quick enough to get out of his way. Running behind him trying to keep up is a panicked Erik Black, passing off half-assed apologies to those who were unfortunately cast to the ground.)
(Suddenly, Olvir's eyes widen, and he laughs triumphantly. The camera spins to his POV, where an Elvis impersonator stands at a street corner, striking a pose for a pair of tourists who take a picture.)
(A warrior's grin plastered over his face, Olvir runs to the impersonator.)
Olvir Arsvinnar
Elvis Aaron Presley, I am Olvir Arsvinnar, the greatest warrior in the world!
Elvis Impersonator
Well thank ya... thank ya very--
(He is cut off as Olvir's mighty fist smashes into his face. The tourists gasp in shock, and the Viking laughs triumphantly. A voice off screen suddenly catches his attention.)
Second Elvis Impersonator
What the sam hell? Oh, it's go time, baby!
(Olvir looks across the street, where he finds not just one but MANY Elvis Impersonators gathered outside of a casion lobby. The marquee above reads, '40th Annual Elvis Homage Convention.' All of them, seeing what just went down, raise their fists ready to fight.)
Olvir Arsvinnar
Ah! Impersonators! I shall smite you all!
Third Elvis Impersonator
Oh, it's time to take care o' biznus...
(The Viking drops his battle axe at his feet and goes into the street fists waving. The Elvises meet him halfway through and a brawl ensues. The horns of the Viking helmet can be seen standing tall over the sea of studded white suits and slick, swooped black hair.)
(Erik Black turns the corner to witness this riot. He tears at his hair in anxiety. In the distance, police sirens are heard approaching...)
SCENE ENDS
SCENE BEGINS
(We open on a finely suited man with his back to the camera, making his way down a luxuriously furnished hotel hallway, the luxury suite section. His destination, at the end of the hall, is a set of double doors with two golden spears crossed above. As he nears them, a rhythmetic bumping sound can be heard getting louder with every step. The man in the suit stops at the door, where the sound is now accompanied by the pleasured moans, groans, and pants of more than one woman inside the room. The man looks over his shoulder, briefly exposing his face and reveal himself as LVW's talent rep Erik Black, and after a moment's hesitation, knocks.)
VALHALLA PRODUCTION COMPANY
Presents
(The bumping sound ends at once, followed by an irritated and deep-pitched grumble. The sound of quick and heavy footsteps can be heard on the other side, and all at once the doors swing open. Black yelps and cringes in terror as Olvir Arsvinnar, clothed only in a royal blue robe--thankfully tied at the waist--and his trademark helmet, stands with a sneer, intense eyes, and a battle axe held over his head.)
Olvir Arsvinnar
Who dares disturb the mighty festivities of Olvir the Great!?
OLVIR ARSVINNAR
In
(Upon recognizing the suited man, Olvir's rage quickly melts away, and a broad smile comes upon his face.)
Olvir Arsvinnar
Erik the Miniscule! How good of you to visit me at my home!
(Olvir tosses the battle axe aside, and something that sounds expensive breaks off screen. He steps forward and draws Erik into a suffocating bearhug. The talent rep's eyes can be seen bulging over Olvir's mighty bicep as his face is buried into his rippling pectorals. He scrambles wildly like a dog with its head trapped in an electric window, until finally the Viking releases him. Erik steps back panting heavily, hair messed up, his suit in disorder.)
Erik Black
Jesus, Olvir...
Olvir Arsvinnar
You have come to partake in my celebrating then, yes?
Erik Black
A victory celebration?
Olvir Arsvinnar
Of course, puny-pecker!! A celebration for my victory!! My victory... in showing the world that I am the greatest warrior alive!! HA HA HA HA!!
(He throws his head back as he laughs triumphantly, and the camera zooms on this defining pose.)
"NORSEMEN LIKE IT HOUND-DOGGIE STYLE"
(Camera zooms out to fit Black into the frame, who looks puzzled.)
Erik Black
Greatest warrior alive? But Olvir, all you did was beat one guy! I mean, we've still got the finals, and--
Olvir Arsvinnar
Enough talk! Please come in and engage in my celebrating!
Erik Black
Engage in your...? Ah, no thanks, Olvir, but thanks for the offer. I was hoping I could just talk to you man to man, cause you see, I didn't think you'd have any company over. Has to do with business at LVW.
Olvir Arsvinnar
Las Vegas Wrestling, you say? Very well then! I believe I have done enough violating of the buttocks for the past week! Wait here just a moment while I empty my mead hall...
(Olvir disappears within his room again, and his great voice can be hear bellowing from within.)
Olvir Arsvinnar
The Great Olvir no longer desires your company! Begone, all of you, until I summon you again!
(Thus begins the train of people exiting Olvir's suite...)
(A stunning brunette in red lingerie...)
(A stunning blonde in black lingerie...)
(A petite Asian in an schoolgirl outfit...)
(Two redhead twins, one dressed in leather bondage apparel and the other dressed like Raquel Welch in that one movie with Harvey Keitel where they were all ambulance drivers only they ran their place like a competitive business instead of a hospital... that was a cool movie, whatever it was...)
(Two Siamese twins, connected at the cheekbone...)
(A plumber...)
(Three rodeo clowns, one fat, one thin, one short...)
(A pint-sized furry purple elephant. As he passes by Erik, costume-wearer pulls off the headpiece, revealing a sweat-drenched dwarf inside. He waves his hand in front of his face as though smelling something rank.)
Dwarf Dressed as Purple Elephant
Whew, buddy... you might want to give it a few minutes before you go in there. I've been farting all night.
(With another flatulent squeak, the dwarf moves on. One final person meekly pokes her head out of the doorway, wearing only a sheet. Black's eyes widen immediately: it's the secretary from LVW's offices, plucked away at the conclusion of Olvir's last film.)
Erik Black
J-Judy?!
Judy the Secretary
OH! Mr. Black! Uh... didn't expect YOU to be here!
Erik Black
The same. What the hell was going on in there?
Judy the Secretary
In there? Oh, uh... nothing much.
(Judy quickly tip-toes out of the frame, and Erik enters the room.)
(Olvir's place is furnished as one would expect a Viking to decorate his mead hall. Walls have been fashioned to look like gray stone bricks, light source comes from a series of torches, furs, hides, and heads of felled beasts hanging proudly on display, and of course we can't overlook the great banquet table in the center of the room. Erik passes by an open doorway, and he looks in to see Olvir's bedchamber, a pit lined with furs. Black winces as though he caught a drift of something unpleasant.)
Erik Black
Oh, God, that midgit wasn't kidding!
(He moves on to the other side of the table, where Olvir fills his horn with another healthy pint of mead. In one corner resides a bigscreen TV.)
Olvir Arsvinnar
So, Erik the Short... what is it you have to discuss with ME, the greatest warrior to have ever raised the mighty steel!
Erik Black
Well, I was just hoping to see if you were preparing for you next match.
Olvir Arsvinnar
Next match? What match!? I have beaten Shorty, have I not?!
Erik Black
But Olvir, that was only the first round of the tournament! There are still two matches to go before you get the World Title!
Olvir Arsvinnar
The Great Olvir cares not for any tournament!! I have proven myself! The lords of Las Vegas should hand me that title NOW!!
(To emphasize his anger, he slams his fist into the table. Erik looks slightly worried, but stands his ground.)
Erik Black
Nobody's denying to had a good match against Shorty, Olvir. Hell, you practically tore him a new asshole. The problem, however, is that the executives have only seen you in one match. You gotta go the full nine yards to earn that title, and that includes the Spades Finals and the four corners match for the strap.
Olvir Arsvinnar
I believe I'm beginning to understand, tiny man! Yes, beating only one man, especially as small and weak as Shorty, proves nothing to the lords and the people. Two matches, you say? Very well, I shall face these challenges and conquer my opponents, and THEN they will understand who the greatest warrior truly is!
Erik Black
Exactly.
Olvir Arsvinnar
Who is my next opponent?
Erik Black
Elvis Aaron Presley. Well, not the REAL Elvis Aaron Presley... this guy's just an impersonator, you see...
Olvir Arsvinnar
No, I do not see. Who is this "Elvis"? Another puny man?
Erik Black
Well, not quite. You see, Elvis was an important staple a while back... before you were... well, found frozen in ice, or whatever. He was a musician, an actor, and an overall entertainer. Many called him the "King of Rock and Roll".
Olvir Arsvinnar
A king! Such news... then he is truly worthy to wage war against the great viking, Olvir Arsvinnar!
Erik Black
He truly made his mark here in Las Vegas and inspired the lives of people across the world. But that was years ago. You see, the real Elvis died a while back.
Olvir Arsvinnar
Ah! And his spirit has returned from the Land of the Gloomy to wage war against the living!
Erik Black
Well, no... uh, how can I explain this to you... okay, think if you died.
Olvir Arsvinnar
But I am invincible!
Erik Black
Yeah, but just pretend for a moment. Once you're gone, the people would be without a great warrior such as yourself in their presence. They would feel empty, exposed, and vulnerable. So, to help the situation, a few brave souls decide to make themselves look like you, and dress like you, and act like you, and fight like you. They IMPERSONATE you, to make people feel like the real thing is still there.
Olvir Arsvinnar
..............................................................what an ABHORRED notion!! There is only ONE Great Olvir, and no man could EVER live to the level of greatness I've achieved! Any such man who dares TRY should be beheaded for such heresy!!
Erik Black
Ah, well...
Olvir Arsvinnar
So, by your words, this "Elvis" is not the TRUE "King" he claims to be? He is an imposter of royalty, an offense that in my culture is punishable by death!! I shall SMITE him in that glorious ring for this insult!!
Erik Black
Hang on a sec... did you even see his promo?
Olvir Arsvinnar
Promo? What do you speak of?
(Erik opens his jacket and pulls out a disc, which he brings to the TV.)
Erik Black
Elvis had a few words to say about you and the upcoming match... you see, it's a standard practice in professional wrestling: two guys wage war with words to build hype for the match, then they meet in the ring to settle the score with their fists. Elvis made the first move with this...
(Erik turns on the TV, inserts the disc, and the antics of LVW's Elvis Aaron Presley escaping a train of ugly women appear on the screen. Olvir watches intent, eyes never blinking as he watches the promo in its entirity. Finally, it ends. Erik looks to the Viking.)
Erik Black
Well, Olvir... what do you think?
Olvir Arsvinnar
Well, Erik the Wee, I shall tell you of the thoughts on my mind...
The man who just appeared on my magic box... his words... his actions...
That...
Was...
MOST...
ENTERTAINING!!
(Hands clutching his sides, Olvir falls into his throne with bellowing, tearful laughter that fills the entire room. Even the talent rep takes a step back, possibly unsure if the great man will explode.)
Olvir Arsvinnar
This Elvis is quite a jester! Running from his ugly wenches... his bold claims to defeat me... what was it he said, Erik? "Duty on his booty"? HA HA HA HA!!
Does he truly think he can defeat me? Does he think he can fully dominate the arse of the greatest living warrior? THIS arse?
(Olvir comes out of his throne, turns his back to the camera, and hikes up his robe to reveal his certifiably chiseled buttocks. Erik, eyes clenched shut, tears his face away.)
Olvir Arsvinnar
This mighty arse?! No many can align their foot with this strong buttocks? How many?! Tell me, Erik the Feeble! Feast your eyes upon my great buttocks!!
Erik Black
No, Olvir, that's okay, I don't want to see your butt.
(In one swipe of his arm, Olvir grabs his talent rep by the head and brings his nose within inches of his rump. Erik's expression morphs within seconds from shock to disgust to impressed to panicky.)
Olvir Arsvinnar
Feast, FEEEAAASST!! Know what a true man's arse is!
Erik Black
Yes, yes, Olvir, you're ass is great, just please, for the love of God, LET ME GO!!
(Olvir releases the smaller man who quickly finds his distance. Olvir, dropping the robe over his lower half, throws his head back and laughs.)
Olvir Arsvinnar
HA HA HA HA!!
Erik Black
Jesus... in any case, Olvir, in spite of however amusing you may find it, Elvis Aaron Presley is going into that ring, and he means business to beat you there in front of everybody. Don't take him lightly.
(With a devlish grin, Olvir draws a great warhammer.)
Olvir Arsvinnar
Certainly not. There is nothing to fear, wimpy-willy! I will meet this Elvis in the ring... and while he comes with intent to defeat me, I will show him what a TRUE king is made of! I am no imposter of a great, invincible man: I am the real thing!
And perhaps when I am done, as he suggests, I will show him that a woman's true beauty lies not in her face...
It lies in her arse! HA HA HA HA!!
I am Olvir Arsvinnar, the greatest warrior in the world, and I will prove it to HIM when it comes time to trade mighty blows!!
(In one mighty swing, Olvir plunges the blunt side of the hammer into the bigscreen TV, directly into the face of Elvis Aaron Presley on screen. The broken screen goes to static, and the Viking laughs again.)
Olvir Arsvinnar
Come! Let us find this imposter and do away with him before he has a chance to find the ring!
Erik Black
What are you--hey, where you going?
(Bounding like a berserker, Olvir disappears into his bed chamber. A moment later, he reappears in his traditional battle gear, battle axe clutched tightly in his hands. Laughing widly, he disappears through the double doors to his suite. Erik Black, not certain of what is going on, runs after him.)
(We cut to the streets of Las Vegas, where Olvir Arsvinnar makes an aimless beeline down the sidewalk, taking out random pedestrians who aren't quick enough to get out of his way. Running behind him trying to keep up is a panicked Erik Black, passing off half-assed apologies to those who were unfortunately cast to the ground.)
(Suddenly, Olvir's eyes widen, and he laughs triumphantly. The camera spins to his POV, where an Elvis impersonator stands at a street corner, striking a pose for a pair of tourists who take a picture.)
(A warrior's grin plastered over his face, Olvir runs to the impersonator.)
Olvir Arsvinnar
Elvis Aaron Presley, I am Olvir Arsvinnar, the greatest warrior in the world!
Elvis Impersonator
Well thank ya... thank ya very--
(He is cut off as Olvir's mighty fist smashes into his face. The tourists gasp in shock, and the Viking laughs triumphantly. A voice off screen suddenly catches his attention.)
Second Elvis Impersonator
What the sam hell? Oh, it's go time, baby!
(Olvir looks across the street, where he finds not just one but MANY Elvis Impersonators gathered outside of a casion lobby. The marquee above reads, '40th Annual Elvis Homage Convention.' All of them, seeing what just went down, raise their fists ready to fight.)
Olvir Arsvinnar
Ah! Impersonators! I shall smite you all!
Third Elvis Impersonator
Oh, it's time to take care o' biznus...
(The Viking drops his battle axe at his feet and goes into the street fists waving. The Elvises meet him halfway through and a brawl ensues. The horns of the Viking helmet can be seen standing tall over the sea of studded white suits and slick, swooped black hair.)
(Erik Black turns the corner to witness this riot. He tears at his hair in anxiety. In the distance, police sirens are heard approaching...)
SCENE ENDS
Last edited:
Manson
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Smoke and Mirrors
(FADEIN: EL MAGICK-O lies back on a hotel room bed wearing a yellow bodysuit with orange and red stars and comets soaring across it, and a large red tophat with a black bill. Over his bodysuit, he wears a pair of black underwear. He's smoking a cigarette.)
EL MAGICK-O: Of all the wrestling holds and magic tricks at my disposal, the female orgasm is my greatest trick of all. It takes a man years and years to learn, mountains and mountains to climb, and lonely woman after lonely woman to learn. But I did. There's always groupies at the end of a magic show. The real trick is to give their kids 5 dollars to hit the arcade while you hit up their mothers.
And its because of tidbits like this that the "O" in "El Magick-O" stands for orgasm, the little death.
Yeah, sure, sometimes you wake up next to a woman and you don't know who she is, and then she's asking for you to pay for the night. But I guarantee to you that El Magick-O only kills his women with pleasure.
With the big O!
As any mysterious bodies, well, any good magician knows where to stash and later burn those. Not that's there any traces that anyone could follow.
So Mister Cowboy James Donovan, you watch what you say to the maste rof the Mystic Poison Fists of the Pacific and European Rims.
I merely offered you a service, a chance to experience wonder, and learn how to take out a special kind of trash.
But when you make absurd claims about a man wearing a mask and killing hookers, you might attract the wrong kind of attention, from the wrong type of people that magicians owe money to!
Not only are you endangering me in that squared circle, but you're affecting my magic career as well!
The last person to do so passed through the Veil of Misted Abyss and hasn't been seen or heard from since! But for you, Mister Donovan, there is a whole of mirrors that I will transport you to with a blink of the eye, a snap of the fingers, and after all the smoke clears, you'll endless reflectiosn of yourself, and each and every hooker you couldn't get rid of!
Because you didn't have El Magick-O's help!
And without mystic knowledge to combat his skill in the dark art and the light pale, you will fall and your career revealed as a sham! And an illusion!
Like all cowboys.
The sooner we're rid of you all, the better.
And once you've lost your chance to become LVW World Champion, you won't even be able to pay for sex, elt alone beg for it.
Because all the ladies will be begging to learn the secret of El Magick-O's special, special magic cane.
(FADEIN: EL MAGICK-O lies back on a hotel room bed wearing a yellow bodysuit with orange and red stars and comets soaring across it, and a large red tophat with a black bill. Over his bodysuit, he wears a pair of black underwear. He's smoking a cigarette.)
EL MAGICK-O: Of all the wrestling holds and magic tricks at my disposal, the female orgasm is my greatest trick of all. It takes a man years and years to learn, mountains and mountains to climb, and lonely woman after lonely woman to learn. But I did. There's always groupies at the end of a magic show. The real trick is to give their kids 5 dollars to hit the arcade while you hit up their mothers.
And its because of tidbits like this that the "O" in "El Magick-O" stands for orgasm, the little death.
Yeah, sure, sometimes you wake up next to a woman and you don't know who she is, and then she's asking for you to pay for the night. But I guarantee to you that El Magick-O only kills his women with pleasure.
With the big O!
As any mysterious bodies, well, any good magician knows where to stash and later burn those. Not that's there any traces that anyone could follow.
So Mister Cowboy James Donovan, you watch what you say to the maste rof the Mystic Poison Fists of the Pacific and European Rims.
I merely offered you a service, a chance to experience wonder, and learn how to take out a special kind of trash.
But when you make absurd claims about a man wearing a mask and killing hookers, you might attract the wrong kind of attention, from the wrong type of people that magicians owe money to!
Not only are you endangering me in that squared circle, but you're affecting my magic career as well!
The last person to do so passed through the Veil of Misted Abyss and hasn't been seen or heard from since! But for you, Mister Donovan, there is a whole of mirrors that I will transport you to with a blink of the eye, a snap of the fingers, and after all the smoke clears, you'll endless reflectiosn of yourself, and each and every hooker you couldn't get rid of!
Because you didn't have El Magick-O's help!
And without mystic knowledge to combat his skill in the dark art and the light pale, you will fall and your career revealed as a sham! And an illusion!
Like all cowboys.
The sooner we're rid of you all, the better.
And once you've lost your chance to become LVW World Champion, you won't even be able to pay for sex, elt alone beg for it.
Because all the ladies will be begging to learn the secret of El Magick-O's special, special magic cane.
thegr817deuce
League Member
- Joined
- Jun 9, 2004
- Messages
- 438
- Points
- 0
- Age
- 39
Re: Week 5 (Prelude) - HEARTS FINAL - The Web Browser v. Mitch Grey
We fade in to a dark room. Nothing but a single computer monitor lights the room. From somewhere in the dark, we hear a voice that is becoming all too familiar. It is clearly that of the Web Browser.
WB: Different day…same old ****.
Here we are yet again, one step closer in this World Title tournament, and yet again, the Web Browser’s name comes up on the card.
It’s not like I asked for any of this ****.
All I asked for was a paycheck to help me from being another victim in the capitalistic world.
I simply ask for something to make me like all the other pawns in this horrible game.
Titles and wins don’t mean **** to me right now.
They could tell me to go out and let some damn municipal court judge put me through a set of five flaming tables and I would; so long as they still write that check after the show.
Everyone else here is nice and busy being wrapped up in what they like to think is some sort of pinnacle that’s going to set them apart from each and every other person in the locker room.
Me? I’m just happy with the hour and a half I get to spend in a room that’s not cold and damp.
I’m just peachy with the fact that I get to leave my friends for just a little bit.
Because while I enjoy the company of the rodents that exist within the realm that I’m forced to live in, I too like to have some time to myself.
Yet, the other morons that are left still seem to think that some combination of leather and gold is going to mold them into something that’s going to make them a star in light of each and every gambler’s eye.
Screw that.
Instead, I’ll just take the time to put in my fifteen minutes and walk away with the two-fifty a week that helps me to get by.
But…
Browser steps into the light of the computer monitor. He keeps his head turned so that only the right side of his face is seen.
WB: It’s when things become too out of hand that it makes me think differently.
I like to think that I’m not a man of violence, but once something crosses me OR my face wrong, thoughts begin to filter through this computer-based head of mine.
Men like Ben Lerner are the reasons why people mess with the Web Browser and get hurt.
Men like Ben Lerner, who like to try and play mind games only to have their asses handed to them, are the reasons why the next guy I fight in that ring might not walk out alive.
Inside that ring, I am but a rookie trying to make a living and pull a terrible life out of the gutter.
Outside that ring, I’m a gentle computer nerd until you piss me off.
Browser turns to show his entire face. The left side is completely purple after the briefcase shot last week.
WB: And once I’m pissed off, I’m not one to be messed with.
Call me unorthodox, call me crazy, call me whatever you want…
Just know that once that I get past a certain level, there’s no turning back and I will do whatever it takes to hurt you.
The problem for good old Mitch Grey is that Ben Lerner has already pressed me over that line.
And now, I haven’t had much else to do but kill a few friends for food and survival since that last bell rang.
Poor, poor Mitch Grey is going to find out what happens when you get near a pissed off computer programmer.
And once I’m done with him, his systray is going to be so jumbled, he’s going to have to “end task” on his life.
Browser ducks back into the darkness as he lets out a sadistic laugh.
We fade in to a dark room. Nothing but a single computer monitor lights the room. From somewhere in the dark, we hear a voice that is becoming all too familiar. It is clearly that of the Web Browser.
WB: Different day…same old ****.
Here we are yet again, one step closer in this World Title tournament, and yet again, the Web Browser’s name comes up on the card.
It’s not like I asked for any of this ****.
All I asked for was a paycheck to help me from being another victim in the capitalistic world.
I simply ask for something to make me like all the other pawns in this horrible game.
Titles and wins don’t mean **** to me right now.
They could tell me to go out and let some damn municipal court judge put me through a set of five flaming tables and I would; so long as they still write that check after the show.
Everyone else here is nice and busy being wrapped up in what they like to think is some sort of pinnacle that’s going to set them apart from each and every other person in the locker room.
Me? I’m just happy with the hour and a half I get to spend in a room that’s not cold and damp.
I’m just peachy with the fact that I get to leave my friends for just a little bit.
Because while I enjoy the company of the rodents that exist within the realm that I’m forced to live in, I too like to have some time to myself.
Yet, the other morons that are left still seem to think that some combination of leather and gold is going to mold them into something that’s going to make them a star in light of each and every gambler’s eye.
Screw that.
Instead, I’ll just take the time to put in my fifteen minutes and walk away with the two-fifty a week that helps me to get by.
But…
Browser steps into the light of the computer monitor. He keeps his head turned so that only the right side of his face is seen.
WB: It’s when things become too out of hand that it makes me think differently.
I like to think that I’m not a man of violence, but once something crosses me OR my face wrong, thoughts begin to filter through this computer-based head of mine.
Men like Ben Lerner are the reasons why people mess with the Web Browser and get hurt.
Men like Ben Lerner, who like to try and play mind games only to have their asses handed to them, are the reasons why the next guy I fight in that ring might not walk out alive.
Inside that ring, I am but a rookie trying to make a living and pull a terrible life out of the gutter.
Outside that ring, I’m a gentle computer nerd until you piss me off.
Browser turns to show his entire face. The left side is completely purple after the briefcase shot last week.
WB: And once I’m pissed off, I’m not one to be messed with.
Call me unorthodox, call me crazy, call me whatever you want…
Just know that once that I get past a certain level, there’s no turning back and I will do whatever it takes to hurt you.
The problem for good old Mitch Grey is that Ben Lerner has already pressed me over that line.
And now, I haven’t had much else to do but kill a few friends for food and survival since that last bell rang.
Poor, poor Mitch Grey is going to find out what happens when you get near a pissed off computer programmer.
And once I’m done with him, his systray is going to be so jumbled, he’s going to have to “end task” on his life.
Browser ducks back into the darkness as he lets out a sadistic laugh.
DizzaHizza
Official Unofficial FW Party Pimp
Re: Week 5 (Prelude) - SPADES FINAL - Olvir Arsvinnar v. Elvis Aaron Presley
* The MGM Grand Hotel. Elvis. Women swooning. LVW cameras. Need we say anything else? *
E.A.P. "Imposter?!? IMPOSTER?!? Listen, Mr. Black, if you want to throw accusations like that around, you shouldn't do it behind someone's back. Let alone doing it to influence Mr. Arsvinnar into a state of hatred directed towards myself.
"Olvir, come on, I'm the King, baby. Why would I want to lie about something like that? With all the REAL imposters running around this town, feeding off my image, I make enough royalties to provide a nice living. If I pretended to be an imposter, I'd be treading all over their blue-suede shoes, and it would be all kinda nasty raining down on the King. Plus, that would be exploitation, and exploitation is just wrong.
"The King would NEVER exploit a person. A race of people, perhaps. Again. But a single person, never.
"Of course, you know ALL about 'all kinda nasty raining down', don't you? I've recently watche...err...stumbled accidently upon some of your work, and , I gotta say, it's impressive. I mean, so much beauty on that screen, and you get to defile it at your will.
"In my mind, I think that we shouldn't be fighting, we should be teaming! We could be the first tag-team in LVW! We could call ourselves: The Vi-KINGS of Las Vegas! What do ya' think? Sure, it's a little rough, but it's great. You could rape, pillage and plunder while I shake, rattle and roll!
"Hell, son! Here's a motto: We'll Beat On Your Ass, Then We'll Wrestle You. Huh? Huh? I love it. With both of us catching up on life in the present day, what better way than to help each other through it??
"You gotta make the call though, and dump that bump on a log, Mr. Black. Can't you see that he's just using you for his own good. Playing dumb while calling the shots. I see how he talks to you: 'Olvir, do this' 'Olvir, do that' 'Olvir, is it real?'
"You're being exploited! Break free from your shack-a-lack-a-lackles!
"But we gotta put the plan for The Vi-KINGS on hold until I win the LVW World Title. I mean, how much credibility would it give us, if we had me, the man who MADE Las Vegas, holding the title that I deserve?
"So, for my sake. For our sake. For the fans' sake. Put on a good match, but take the fall. It's not the end of the world. From one warrior to another, much more endowed, warrior. Think of the children.
"After all, if you don't, you'll be on the receiving end of The Flying Pelvis, and for once in your career, that ISN'T a good thing."
* The MGM Grand Hotel. Elvis. Women swooning. LVW cameras. Need we say anything else? *
E.A.P. "Imposter?!? IMPOSTER?!? Listen, Mr. Black, if you want to throw accusations like that around, you shouldn't do it behind someone's back. Let alone doing it to influence Mr. Arsvinnar into a state of hatred directed towards myself.
"Olvir, come on, I'm the King, baby. Why would I want to lie about something like that? With all the REAL imposters running around this town, feeding off my image, I make enough royalties to provide a nice living. If I pretended to be an imposter, I'd be treading all over their blue-suede shoes, and it would be all kinda nasty raining down on the King. Plus, that would be exploitation, and exploitation is just wrong.
"The King would NEVER exploit a person. A race of people, perhaps. Again. But a single person, never.
"Of course, you know ALL about 'all kinda nasty raining down', don't you? I've recently watche...err...stumbled accidently upon some of your work, and , I gotta say, it's impressive. I mean, so much beauty on that screen, and you get to defile it at your will.
"In my mind, I think that we shouldn't be fighting, we should be teaming! We could be the first tag-team in LVW! We could call ourselves: The Vi-KINGS of Las Vegas! What do ya' think? Sure, it's a little rough, but it's great. You could rape, pillage and plunder while I shake, rattle and roll!
"Hell, son! Here's a motto: We'll Beat On Your Ass, Then We'll Wrestle You. Huh? Huh? I love it. With both of us catching up on life in the present day, what better way than to help each other through it??
"You gotta make the call though, and dump that bump on a log, Mr. Black. Can't you see that he's just using you for his own good. Playing dumb while calling the shots. I see how he talks to you: 'Olvir, do this' 'Olvir, do that' 'Olvir, is it real?'
"You're being exploited! Break free from your shack-a-lack-a-lackles!
"But we gotta put the plan for The Vi-KINGS on hold until I win the LVW World Title. I mean, how much credibility would it give us, if we had me, the man who MADE Las Vegas, holding the title that I deserve?
"So, for my sake. For our sake. For the fans' sake. Put on a good match, but take the fall. It's not the end of the world. From one warrior to another, much more endowed, warrior. Think of the children.
"After all, if you don't, you'll be on the receiving end of The Flying Pelvis, and for once in your career, that ISN'T a good thing."
NotorisSTD
League Member
reflections
(CUEUP: “Soon We’ll be Dead” by Leftover Crack and World Inferno/Friendship Society…)
(CUTTO: Mitch Grey, Misfits skull logo T-shirt, black jeans shorts, standing cross armed in front of a gas station, somewhere in the Nevada desert….)
“the last goth monster”
Y’know sumpthin’ bratha…I had expectations for the Web Browser. I expected some retard with a silly computer nerd shtick, telling me about how he’s gonna reboot my hard drive, because I can’t upgrade to Pentium plus, or whatever…
Instead I’m listening to someone who kinda reminds me of me….right up until the end, where there was some computer crap, but I can let it slide.
Christ, his promo even reminded me of one of the ones I shot for my last match, right down to the lightening scheme. Not that he was ripping me off. Neither of us invented hanging out in the dark.
Browser, and I’m speaking directly to you now…I’m not going to stand here and tell you about how badly I’m going to beat you. Don’t get me wrong, and don’t get me wrong, I do intend to beat you. Badly. But, see, I’ve been doing this for a while. I’m what they call a “seasoned veteran.” But you’re not talking the way I did when I was your age. You’re talking like I do now. I figure that means you’re a pretty smart guy. Smarter than I was at your age. Smarter than most of the guys on the roster. What you don’t have, that I do, is instinct.
So hear me out for a sec. Maybe you’ll learn something.
You’re pissed off. That’s good. Got that bloodlust and adrenaline pumpin’ eh? Want s’m revenge? Wanna f(bleep) some sh(bleep) up? Great. Use it. Don’t lose focus. What’s his name who attacked you? He’s not coming to smash you up. I am. I’m coming to smash you up something brutal. You show up to this match looking over your shoulder, or planning some sneak attack spot, well, you won’t last. You won’t even look like you put up a good fight, and you won’t be world champion.
You’re in this to pay the bills? Me to. I wouldn’t even be here if the store I was managing hadn’t blown up, and I didn’t have child support bills to worry about. Of course I still want to be world champion. I want to pay my bills faster, and have more money left over. Just because I’m not a glory monger doesn’t make me a retard.
But the fact that I have these bills, that I have to be here, that does piss me off a lot. More than it would piss me off if, lets say, some wrestler attacked me for some reason. The fact that I have nothing to lose anymore, that makes me more dangerous than an unhinged computer nerd.
You’re not the first person who’s threatened to kill me, sporto. Somehow, I’m not that scared. I’m not even taking it personally. Hell, I find it kind of endearing. Makes me nostalgic. Nobody’s threatened to kill me in a good while. Back in the good old days, people threatened to kill me all the time. A lot of them were even mad at me, and not somebody else.
You’re underestimating me, but even that reminds me of the good old days back when this was still fun. When I was living a dream, lost in f(bleep)king neverland, where we all get to play superhero action figure recess games for the rest of our lives. You’ve already seen through that. Bravo. But what you should know, is most people don’t underestimate me anymore. I had to beat the snot out of a LOT of people before they stopped doing that. With a name like Web Browser, probably you’ll have the same problem. Me? I know better. I don’t underestimate anyone. You might have a silly name. You might be a rookie. I’m still going to hit you as hard as I possibly can.
I’m not interested in killing you Browser. I’m interested in most of the same things you are. Get the paycheck, get the W, go home, and hope none of this stupidity follows me back…..But just recently, something’s shifted….I had apathy when I got here. It seems to have left me.
Maybe I’ve spent years trying to convince myself I’m something I’m not.
Maybe I want the violence after all. (spreads his arms to the sides in a mock cross, and walks off.)
(CUEUP: “Soon We’ll be Dead” by Leftover Crack and World Inferno/Friendship Society…)
(CUTTO: Mitch Grey, Misfits skull logo T-shirt, black jeans shorts, standing cross armed in front of a gas station, somewhere in the Nevada desert….)
“the last goth monster”
Y’know sumpthin’ bratha…I had expectations for the Web Browser. I expected some retard with a silly computer nerd shtick, telling me about how he’s gonna reboot my hard drive, because I can’t upgrade to Pentium plus, or whatever…
Instead I’m listening to someone who kinda reminds me of me….right up until the end, where there was some computer crap, but I can let it slide.
Christ, his promo even reminded me of one of the ones I shot for my last match, right down to the lightening scheme. Not that he was ripping me off. Neither of us invented hanging out in the dark.
Browser, and I’m speaking directly to you now…I’m not going to stand here and tell you about how badly I’m going to beat you. Don’t get me wrong, and don’t get me wrong, I do intend to beat you. Badly. But, see, I’ve been doing this for a while. I’m what they call a “seasoned veteran.” But you’re not talking the way I did when I was your age. You’re talking like I do now. I figure that means you’re a pretty smart guy. Smarter than I was at your age. Smarter than most of the guys on the roster. What you don’t have, that I do, is instinct.
So hear me out for a sec. Maybe you’ll learn something.
You’re pissed off. That’s good. Got that bloodlust and adrenaline pumpin’ eh? Want s’m revenge? Wanna f(bleep) some sh(bleep) up? Great. Use it. Don’t lose focus. What’s his name who attacked you? He’s not coming to smash you up. I am. I’m coming to smash you up something brutal. You show up to this match looking over your shoulder, or planning some sneak attack spot, well, you won’t last. You won’t even look like you put up a good fight, and you won’t be world champion.
You’re in this to pay the bills? Me to. I wouldn’t even be here if the store I was managing hadn’t blown up, and I didn’t have child support bills to worry about. Of course I still want to be world champion. I want to pay my bills faster, and have more money left over. Just because I’m not a glory monger doesn’t make me a retard.
But the fact that I have these bills, that I have to be here, that does piss me off a lot. More than it would piss me off if, lets say, some wrestler attacked me for some reason. The fact that I have nothing to lose anymore, that makes me more dangerous than an unhinged computer nerd.
You’re not the first person who’s threatened to kill me, sporto. Somehow, I’m not that scared. I’m not even taking it personally. Hell, I find it kind of endearing. Makes me nostalgic. Nobody’s threatened to kill me in a good while. Back in the good old days, people threatened to kill me all the time. A lot of them were even mad at me, and not somebody else.
You’re underestimating me, but even that reminds me of the good old days back when this was still fun. When I was living a dream, lost in f(bleep)king neverland, where we all get to play superhero action figure recess games for the rest of our lives. You’ve already seen through that. Bravo. But what you should know, is most people don’t underestimate me anymore. I had to beat the snot out of a LOT of people before they stopped doing that. With a name like Web Browser, probably you’ll have the same problem. Me? I know better. I don’t underestimate anyone. You might have a silly name. You might be a rookie. I’m still going to hit you as hard as I possibly can.
I’m not interested in killing you Browser. I’m interested in most of the same things you are. Get the paycheck, get the W, go home, and hope none of this stupidity follows me back…..But just recently, something’s shifted….I had apathy when I got here. It seems to have left me.
Maybe I’ve spent years trying to convince myself I’m something I’m not.
Maybe I want the violence after all. (spreads his arms to the sides in a mock cross, and walks off.)
Re: Week 5 (Prelude) - Carmine Esposito v. Romeo Traven
(FADEIN to Carmine Esposito in his suite at the Sam Remo Hotel and Casino. He’s sitting on his bed and staring off in the distance, as if he is in thought. He stands up and looks at the camera.)
CARMINE ESPOSITO: I find it funny that I go into hiding for one week and LVW acts as if I don’t exist. (shrugs his shoulders.) I got snubbed out of the World title tournament. (Shakes his head.) Now granted…my record doesn’t exactly impress most of you, but I was just findin’ my groove…I was just gettin’ HOT…and then I get booked against the LVW Cooler, Hans Nowak.
Nowak, don’t think that just because LVW forgot about me…that YOU can forget about me. You stiffed me for 25 large…and trust me, I’m gonna get it back…with interest. Do you think just because you whacked me with a briefcase that it was the end? That all your troubles were over? (Shakes his head.) No Hans…its just getting started!
(Jimmy Two Times enters the room and is yelling at someone on his cell phone.)
JIMMY TWO TIMES: Now you listen here, pal – pal! You don’t make a wager with Jimmy Two Times and then say I f(BLEEP)in’ wrote it down wrong – down wrong! I’ve been doing business for years – for years, that’s why you came to me - to me, because I pay up with no bulls(BLEEP) – no bulls(BLEEP).
(Listening to the caller.)
JIMMY: No…stop right there – right there. You are the dumb fu(BLEEP) that took the Over on the Super Bowl – Super Bowl. And what is with the prop bets – prop bets? You f(BLEEP)in’ ***** – *****.
(Listening to caller.)
JIMMY: Oh…is that right – that right? Well you better damn well have my money by midnight tonight – tonight! You f(BLEEP)in’ prick – prick!
(Folds up his cell phone.)
CARMINE: Yo Jimmy…you mind? (Bugs his eyes out at the camera.) I’m doin’ a promo ova’ here! Vecchio schifoso!
JIMMY: Excuse me, Carmine…but you ain’t exactly in a position to tell me what the f(BLEEP) to do – to do! You wanna have me give your opinions just a slight amount of consideration – consideration? You go and you bring me back that dough Nowak stole from us in that ladder match – ladder match. And you pay me every cent you owe me – owe me. The only reason you ain’t in a meat locker somewhere is because we’re from the same neighborhood – neighborhood. Otherwise…I woulda’ whacked ya’ a long time ago – time ago. Capiche – Capiche?
CARMINE: Did you talk to your uncle? Is he going to give us some time?
JIMMY: I bought us some time, but you’ve gotta produce – produce.
(Carmine nods his head.)
JIMMY: I got you a match this week – this week. LVW is putting you in the ring against a new guy – new guy, some finocchio they just signed up named Romeo Traven – Traven.
CARMINE: Romeo? What is this, f(BLEEP)in’ Shakespeare or something? We ain’t gonna be out there reciting soliloquies, yo. And unfortunately for you…Juliet has already off’ed herself. So you might as well go on to the final scene and end your miserable life too, join the donnina…that selfish ****, and don’t even bother showing up this week.
(Camera zooms in on Carmine.)
CARMINE: See what everyone is failing to realize…I’m a player. LVW didn’t sign me because they know I’m eye candy, which I am…but that’s not the reason. They signed me because they knew instantly that the Esposito names carried a lot of prestige …had a lot of value…and the stingy pricks wanted their chance to wring it all out of me.
I may have missed the boat on being in the World title tournament. (Shrugs his shoulders.) But I can deal with that. It just makes me wanna work harder. It makes me wanna beat down the next frocio that thinks they are gonna knock me back down off the ladder.
But what no one seems to see…is that I’ve already hit rock bottom…I can’t fall any further. I’m desperate. I’m hungry. And I’ll do WHATEVER I have to do…in order to SURVIVE!
Traven…I feel sorry for your mother. She’s gonna have to witness her little sbrodare get wiped off the face of LVW!
(The camera zooms out and puts both men into the frame.)
JIMMY: Carmine…I ain’t ever seen you this fired up before – before. I want you in the gym right now – right now. You need to train – to train. We’re on the way to the top – to the top.
(Carmine leaves the rooms and Jimmy’s cell phone rings.)
JIMMY: Talk to me – talk to me.
(The voice on the other end speaks.)
JIMMY: You wanna bet on the Winter Olympics – Olympics? You gotta be kiddin’ me – kiddin’ me.
(The caller speaks again.)
JIMMY: I have no idea how to handicap Curling and Freestyle Snowboarding – Snowboarding. Plus its coming from the homeland, I just wouldn’t feel right doing it – doing it. But if you want any action on the Pro Bowl, you know who to call – to call.
(FADE TO BLACK)
(FADEIN to Carmine Esposito in his suite at the Sam Remo Hotel and Casino. He’s sitting on his bed and staring off in the distance, as if he is in thought. He stands up and looks at the camera.)
CARMINE ESPOSITO: I find it funny that I go into hiding for one week and LVW acts as if I don’t exist. (shrugs his shoulders.) I got snubbed out of the World title tournament. (Shakes his head.) Now granted…my record doesn’t exactly impress most of you, but I was just findin’ my groove…I was just gettin’ HOT…and then I get booked against the LVW Cooler, Hans Nowak.
Nowak, don’t think that just because LVW forgot about me…that YOU can forget about me. You stiffed me for 25 large…and trust me, I’m gonna get it back…with interest. Do you think just because you whacked me with a briefcase that it was the end? That all your troubles were over? (Shakes his head.) No Hans…its just getting started!
(Jimmy Two Times enters the room and is yelling at someone on his cell phone.)
JIMMY TWO TIMES: Now you listen here, pal – pal! You don’t make a wager with Jimmy Two Times and then say I f(BLEEP)in’ wrote it down wrong – down wrong! I’ve been doing business for years – for years, that’s why you came to me - to me, because I pay up with no bulls(BLEEP) – no bulls(BLEEP).
(Listening to the caller.)
JIMMY: No…stop right there – right there. You are the dumb fu(BLEEP) that took the Over on the Super Bowl – Super Bowl. And what is with the prop bets – prop bets? You f(BLEEP)in’ ***** – *****.
(Listening to caller.)
JIMMY: Oh…is that right – that right? Well you better damn well have my money by midnight tonight – tonight! You f(BLEEP)in’ prick – prick!
(Folds up his cell phone.)
CARMINE: Yo Jimmy…you mind? (Bugs his eyes out at the camera.) I’m doin’ a promo ova’ here! Vecchio schifoso!
JIMMY: Excuse me, Carmine…but you ain’t exactly in a position to tell me what the f(BLEEP) to do – to do! You wanna have me give your opinions just a slight amount of consideration – consideration? You go and you bring me back that dough Nowak stole from us in that ladder match – ladder match. And you pay me every cent you owe me – owe me. The only reason you ain’t in a meat locker somewhere is because we’re from the same neighborhood – neighborhood. Otherwise…I woulda’ whacked ya’ a long time ago – time ago. Capiche – Capiche?
CARMINE: Did you talk to your uncle? Is he going to give us some time?
JIMMY: I bought us some time, but you’ve gotta produce – produce.
(Carmine nods his head.)
JIMMY: I got you a match this week – this week. LVW is putting you in the ring against a new guy – new guy, some finocchio they just signed up named Romeo Traven – Traven.
CARMINE: Romeo? What is this, f(BLEEP)in’ Shakespeare or something? We ain’t gonna be out there reciting soliloquies, yo. And unfortunately for you…Juliet has already off’ed herself. So you might as well go on to the final scene and end your miserable life too, join the donnina…that selfish ****, and don’t even bother showing up this week.
(Camera zooms in on Carmine.)
CARMINE: See what everyone is failing to realize…I’m a player. LVW didn’t sign me because they know I’m eye candy, which I am…but that’s not the reason. They signed me because they knew instantly that the Esposito names carried a lot of prestige …had a lot of value…and the stingy pricks wanted their chance to wring it all out of me.
I may have missed the boat on being in the World title tournament. (Shrugs his shoulders.) But I can deal with that. It just makes me wanna work harder. It makes me wanna beat down the next frocio that thinks they are gonna knock me back down off the ladder.
But what no one seems to see…is that I’ve already hit rock bottom…I can’t fall any further. I’m desperate. I’m hungry. And I’ll do WHATEVER I have to do…in order to SURVIVE!
Traven…I feel sorry for your mother. She’s gonna have to witness her little sbrodare get wiped off the face of LVW!
(The camera zooms out and puts both men into the frame.)
JIMMY: Carmine…I ain’t ever seen you this fired up before – before. I want you in the gym right now – right now. You need to train – to train. We’re on the way to the top – to the top.
(Carmine leaves the rooms and Jimmy’s cell phone rings.)
JIMMY: Talk to me – talk to me.
(The voice on the other end speaks.)
JIMMY: You wanna bet on the Winter Olympics – Olympics? You gotta be kiddin’ me – kiddin’ me.
(The caller speaks again.)
JIMMY: I have no idea how to handicap Curling and Freestyle Snowboarding – Snowboarding. Plus its coming from the homeland, I just wouldn’t feel right doing it – doing it. But if you want any action on the Pro Bowl, you know who to call – to call.
(FADE TO BLACK)
TH
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Re: Week 5 (Prelude) - DIAMONDS FINAL - "Cowboy" James Donovan v. El Magick-O
Jimmy Donovan is at the buffet up at the Sands... hey, bangin' ain't easy, and a man gotsta eat to fuel his sex romps.
JD: Y'know, El-Magick-O, I reckon you oughtn't worry about the LVW World Title when you gots all them nasties followin' you around like that an' such. Maybe you should worry about holin' yerself up in the ground, or usin' yer magic to make yerself disappear. Now that I done blown the cover up off a' yer hooker killin', I gots you all up an' scared, didn't I?
Well, you done deserved it fer killin' God's most loveable creatures. I mean, where in the Bible does it ever say you cain't lay down with wimmens after you done paid 'em anyway?
Random Guy: Several times, especially in the Old Testament.
JD: Well I'll be darned. I guess that's what I get fer missin' church the last twenty years or so. Christianity is done overrated anyway if it ain't gonna let you lay down wit' hookers an' such.
But I didn't ferget everythang, and I'm pretty sure it says in there that you ain't supposed t'kill neither. An' I think you oughts t'pay for killin' them hookers. That's why I done plan on kickin' yer ass all the way up an' down the Strip. An' maybe I'll done remove yer mask too so that everyone you done owe money to cain see where you are an' they can come collect.
Cuz killin' hookers is wrong, and you oughts t'pay for it. It don't matter who y'all are, even if yer the Poisonous Fists of the Pacific Rim or whatever... speakin' of that, you ever get a Pacific Rimjob? It's deee-vine, I like it when she gets the tongue all the way up in there so it feels like she's done lickin' my prostate.
Some guy in the background throws up.
JD: Ooops, my momma done told me not to talk about stuff like that when folks is eatin'. My fault, pardner.
But come the show, Mr. Magic-Man, everythang that happens to you will done be yer fault.
Fade to the LVW logo.
Jimmy Donovan is at the buffet up at the Sands... hey, bangin' ain't easy, and a man gotsta eat to fuel his sex romps.
JD: Y'know, El-Magick-O, I reckon you oughtn't worry about the LVW World Title when you gots all them nasties followin' you around like that an' such. Maybe you should worry about holin' yerself up in the ground, or usin' yer magic to make yerself disappear. Now that I done blown the cover up off a' yer hooker killin', I gots you all up an' scared, didn't I?
Well, you done deserved it fer killin' God's most loveable creatures. I mean, where in the Bible does it ever say you cain't lay down with wimmens after you done paid 'em anyway?
Random Guy: Several times, especially in the Old Testament.
JD: Well I'll be darned. I guess that's what I get fer missin' church the last twenty years or so. Christianity is done overrated anyway if it ain't gonna let you lay down wit' hookers an' such.
But I didn't ferget everythang, and I'm pretty sure it says in there that you ain't supposed t'kill neither. An' I think you oughts t'pay for killin' them hookers. That's why I done plan on kickin' yer ass all the way up an' down the Strip. An' maybe I'll done remove yer mask too so that everyone you done owe money to cain see where you are an' they can come collect.
Cuz killin' hookers is wrong, and you oughts t'pay for it. It don't matter who y'all are, even if yer the Poisonous Fists of the Pacific Rim or whatever... speakin' of that, you ever get a Pacific Rimjob? It's deee-vine, I like it when she gets the tongue all the way up in there so it feels like she's done lickin' my prostate.
Some guy in the background throws up.
JD: Ooops, my momma done told me not to talk about stuff like that when folks is eatin'. My fault, pardner.
But come the show, Mr. Magic-Man, everythang that happens to you will done be yer fault.
Fade to the LVW logo.
thegr817deuce
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Re: Week 5 (Prelude) - HEARTS FINAL - The Web Browser v. Mitch Grey
“You’ve got mail!”
“Copy and paste this message to fifteen or more friends and be entered into a drawing for a million dollars or a day in the life of Mitch Grey.”
“Haha! Like I’d copy anything to be like Mitch Grey.”
Fade in. The computer screen stills lights the room. Instead of a full spectrum of light, half of it is blocked by Web Browser and very messy mop-top. He gives a chuckle as he speaks.
WB: Copy your ****ing style?
Like your style is something that each and every person in this god forsaken universe wants to imitate?
Like Mitch Grey is the pinnacle of everything that is man?
Time to wake up sweetie.
I wouldn’t copy your ****ing style if it was already placed in a Xerox machine that gave me five dollars for every copy I made.
You think this lighting scheme is something that I’m bragging about because it makes me look like Torment simply due to the lack of light and style to my camera time?
Please. I’m a computer nerd and I know more about wrestling than that talentless hack.
This lighting is because I’m a ****ing poor bastard and can’t afford to have my name signed to some sort of lease that checks further into the past that only slaughters my name even more. So please, spare me the wannabe like me ordeal.
Browser swivels his chair around and looks into the camera.
WB: Yet, even though he comes out and says that he agrees with me that he’s only here to pay the bills; Mr. Grey here still wants to pound the fact that he is going to defeat me square in the middle of the ring this week.
Let’s go over this one more time here.
Another victory in this pitiful life that I call being a professional means absolutely nothing to me.
As a matter of fact, I would easily walk down to the ring and lie down for my opponent so long as to gain the check, but they won’t pay me for doing that.
Therefore, I have to go out there and put forth effort into kicking your ass, the only way a complete moron when it comes to physicality can.
And if somewhere along that effort, you happen to fall to the mat for a three, then so be it. Frankly, I could care less.
Maybe it’s because I’m not a “seasoned veteran”, but somehow, the outcome of the match really doesn’t matter to this green rookie.
Browser shakes his head with a smile.
WB: The one thing you did manage to get right though was the fact that I am smarter than you.
Not because I could run circles around you in the Microsoft neighborhood network, but because you’re, quite frankly, just a ****ing all-around moron.
You are to idiocy what Norton is to virus defense.
You see, I’m not really pissed about anything.
I’m not too happy with what Mr. Lerner pulled last week, but he will get his when the time arrives.
I’m not looking over my shoulder, waiting on anyone to attack me from behind.
If that’s the only way they can do it, then I guess that’s saying something for me.
I’ll just walk out of that ring with another disqualification win that I don’t care about, seeing as how everyone thinks they must cheat to defeat a desk jockey anyway.
And none of this is an underestimation of you in any way.
I’m just saying that if you can get out of this match with a clean pinfall over me that you’ll be one of the first because no one else wants to even try.
Browser leans back and turns his monitor off, leaving the entire screen to black again.
WB: I mean, I’m just some guy who’d rather be eating Doritos and laughing at situational comedies than fighting inside some wrestling ring.
But if LVW’s short history has anything to say about this upcoming match, you’re just going to be another moron whose quest for some pathetic title is put on “standby”.
We sit in the black for a moment before we hear a large crash.
“Son of a *****! I need lights!”
“You’ve got mail!”
“Copy and paste this message to fifteen or more friends and be entered into a drawing for a million dollars or a day in the life of Mitch Grey.”
“Haha! Like I’d copy anything to be like Mitch Grey.”
Fade in. The computer screen stills lights the room. Instead of a full spectrum of light, half of it is blocked by Web Browser and very messy mop-top. He gives a chuckle as he speaks.
WB: Copy your ****ing style?
Like your style is something that each and every person in this god forsaken universe wants to imitate?
Like Mitch Grey is the pinnacle of everything that is man?
Time to wake up sweetie.
I wouldn’t copy your ****ing style if it was already placed in a Xerox machine that gave me five dollars for every copy I made.
You think this lighting scheme is something that I’m bragging about because it makes me look like Torment simply due to the lack of light and style to my camera time?
Please. I’m a computer nerd and I know more about wrestling than that talentless hack.
This lighting is because I’m a ****ing poor bastard and can’t afford to have my name signed to some sort of lease that checks further into the past that only slaughters my name even more. So please, spare me the wannabe like me ordeal.
Browser swivels his chair around and looks into the camera.
WB: Yet, even though he comes out and says that he agrees with me that he’s only here to pay the bills; Mr. Grey here still wants to pound the fact that he is going to defeat me square in the middle of the ring this week.
Let’s go over this one more time here.
Another victory in this pitiful life that I call being a professional means absolutely nothing to me.
As a matter of fact, I would easily walk down to the ring and lie down for my opponent so long as to gain the check, but they won’t pay me for doing that.
Therefore, I have to go out there and put forth effort into kicking your ass, the only way a complete moron when it comes to physicality can.
And if somewhere along that effort, you happen to fall to the mat for a three, then so be it. Frankly, I could care less.
Maybe it’s because I’m not a “seasoned veteran”, but somehow, the outcome of the match really doesn’t matter to this green rookie.
Browser shakes his head with a smile.
WB: The one thing you did manage to get right though was the fact that I am smarter than you.
Not because I could run circles around you in the Microsoft neighborhood network, but because you’re, quite frankly, just a ****ing all-around moron.
You are to idiocy what Norton is to virus defense.
You see, I’m not really pissed about anything.
I’m not too happy with what Mr. Lerner pulled last week, but he will get his when the time arrives.
I’m not looking over my shoulder, waiting on anyone to attack me from behind.
If that’s the only way they can do it, then I guess that’s saying something for me.
I’ll just walk out of that ring with another disqualification win that I don’t care about, seeing as how everyone thinks they must cheat to defeat a desk jockey anyway.
And none of this is an underestimation of you in any way.
I’m just saying that if you can get out of this match with a clean pinfall over me that you’ll be one of the first because no one else wants to even try.
Browser leans back and turns his monitor off, leaving the entire screen to black again.
WB: I mean, I’m just some guy who’d rather be eating Doritos and laughing at situational comedies than fighting inside some wrestling ring.
But if LVW’s short history has anything to say about this upcoming match, you’re just going to be another moron whose quest for some pathetic title is put on “standby”.
We sit in the black for a moment before we hear a large crash.
“Son of a *****! I need lights!”