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SLAMTRACK 8: Hardcore Match - The Second Coming v. Kid Koala

brusch

Main Event Caliber
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Apr 16, 2012
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MAIN EVENT - Hardcore Match
Marsupials of Mayhem banned from arena

Roleplaying thread for The Second Coming v. Kid Koala


1000-word roleplay limit
No stacking allowed whatsoever

Roleplay deadline is Sunday, March 15 at 11:59pm Red Line time
 

fugginVOSS

The REAL Funk U. T-shirt
Joined
Aug 26, 2008
Messages
1,214
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Age
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Location
Australia
[FADE IN: on KID KOALA standing in front of the RLW green screen. Behind him is footage of building demolitions. Wrecking balls smashing into the sides of building. Mortar and bricks and concrete shattering on impact. KOALA has his hands by his sides. He wears a Chicago Bulls warm-up top and skinny leg black jeans.]

KID KOALA:
"The only way you can make the materialistic scumbags that run this two-bit popsicle stand listen to you is threaten their capitalist natures. You hit them in their wallets and they stop what they're doing and pay attention.

"I hit their wallets.

"I put a steel chair around Second Coming's neck and threatened their well-being. I threatened the asses in seats here at DePaul's gymnasium. I threatened their income. And when that steel chair was wrapped around her throat..." [KK points to the skies] "...and I ascended to the top they could finally see that I meant fucking business."

[KOALA nodds as he slowly brings his pointer finger down.]

KID KOALA:
"They can tell you that they don't condone my behaviour. That they don't reward it. That they won't negotiate with terrorists.

"I AM THE ONE NEGOTIATING WITH TERRORISTS!"

[KOALA is livid. He thumbs himself in the chest and snarls beneath the fuzzy, cute mask of his. His shoulders rise and fall with each maniacal breath.]

KID KOALA:
"I'm the one negotiating with terrorists here. And it took ALL - OF - THAT just to get you to finally hear me. The threat to your little poster girl. The David, or should I say Davina, to your Goliath, Dalkichev.

"You keep putting in this girl's head what YOU want her to be. And she is eating right out of the palm of your hand. She tethers up and just nibbles away on the oats of your lies and deceit and she will NEVER no what she truly NEEDS because you keep fucking her head with the things she thinks she WANTS!"

[KOALA grunts in frustration.]

KID KOALA:
"Ugh! I feel like I'm taking fucking crazy pills or something in this asylum. Why do I have to take my straight jacket off and tell the doctor how much drugs to administer?

"Why do I need to set the charge on the electro shock therapy?

"I'm the LAST - PERSON you ever want educating the masses but here I am.

"I stand before you, Second Coming. I stand before you a man who only wants to show you the light in which you should walk to. All of this, which this industry creates, is a nothingness inside your heart. For you to truly live you need to walk the path I am leading you to and if you do not...

"I will drag you down that path by your fucking hair, kicking and screaming and biting and whatever else you want to do, I WILL drag you down it.

"And I will show you. I will show you what you TRULY need.

"I will be the hypocrite but it's for YOUR own good. YOUR own good. Not mine. I don't give two shits about this place. But I don't want to see it do to you what it did to me.

"You need to be shown."

[KID KOALA points off into the distance, as if he could pin-point Slamtrack 8 in the future.]

KID KOALA:
"For you to be created you must be destroyed. And the world will see the fire in your eye as you rise from the ashes. And all will bow their heads in respect of someone who wins through losing so much.

"You don't need that fucking title, 2C.

"You need...

"Your self...

"Respect."

[FtB.]
 
Joined
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The End

"You're happy, Kid. Giddy, even."


"Why?"


"It's not often that a man can schedule his own execution."


(FADEIN: No frills or extras.


We're in a darkened room: not so much for effect but it's just a dark room. There's a few spots on, providing... juuuuuust enough light to see by.


The Second Coming is in view, wearing her black hoodie with the hood up, black leather mask over her lower face with spikes all over it, and taped fists. She's sitting on a folding chair, backwards, leaning her arms on the back of the chair and herself on her arms.)


"I just want you to remember that you asked for this, Kid. You wanted this match."


"Wait, no you didn't. You didn't want this match, because this match will sell out the SAC and make money for the Red Line, which will make money for us. And you want this company to fail, for... reasons."


(She waited a beat.)


"You called me their 'income,' Kiddo. I'm an unproven commodity. I represent loads of potential dollars, but no sure thing. By doing your best to take me out, you're not saying 'I'm going to destroy the Red Line.' You're saying 'I believe in this girl so if I'm going to destroy the Red Line I can't let her reach her potential.'"


"So, thanks - I guess?"


"Here's my thing, Kiddo. You can talk about truth, you can talk about educating the masses and the falsity that the office is giving me, but you're not offering anything else."


"You're trying to sound revolutionary, when you actually have nothing to say. You'd be the annoying skinny vegan kid always trying to save the spotted owls if it wasn't for the fact that you're actually affecting the course of the Red Line."


"Temporarily, at least."


"But you're very shallow, Kiddo - and you're very simple. You see an athletic girl with a potentially lucrative future and you want her... making money the way you want her to make it."


"You act the way you do, because you don't have the full story. Well, you won't get the full story until Slamtrack."


"When it slams you in the face."


(The Second Coming leaned back, holding onto the back of the chair. She stared at the ceiling, and the hood fell from the back of her head, exposing her long black hair.)


"I... don't... care... about a title. Not right now. I don't care about fame, or glory, or money, or any respect that this sport has given me so far."


"You, Koala Kid... have disrespected me. Therefore, you have taken my self respect, therefore you are exactly what you claimed to be: a hypocrite."


"Therefore. You need to be taught a lesson."


(She smiled. We assume: we can't really tell.)


"The joke of it, Kiddo, is that you've signed a contract for a hardcore match against me, and you don't know the first thing about me. I assume you've looked at me, decided I was a girl, or I was a rookie, or I was a rookie girl, and that you knew everything you needed to know about me. If you knew the truth, you'd never have stepped into my ring."


(The camera view moved in on an extreme close up.)


"And now, you've given me exactly what I want. You've given me you... in a match with no rules. You've given me you, without disqualifications or countouts."


"My mom has bashed the rude in the face with the business end of her microphone stand for twenty years now. My dad? He's broken his opponents' bones and spilled their blood in the squared circle since before that."


"Me? I am my father's daughter."


"You've interrupted me, cost me the chance to be Champion, disrespected me, held me down, and held me back, Kiddo."


"What do you really think I'll do to you in this hardcore match?"


(She laughed again.)


"It might be easier to tell you what I won't do."


"And I won't be nice."


(All of a sudden, her demeanor turned completely serious.)


"And you won't survive."


(FADE)
 

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