EastPrez
Pressure Chief
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 392
- Points
- 0
(FADEIN: To a large, opulent elevator--gold and marble, and occupied by two people. The first person is around 5-foot-6, African American with a low close-cropped haircut with waves and yellow-tinted Alpina sunglasses, a maize yellow-and-purple suit with a family crest on the heart, and twirling a HEAD tennis racket with a purple slipjacket covering the business end showcasing a huge jewel encrusted 'D'. He is one of the most revered and hated managers in the business, CALVIN CARLTON. Standing to his left and a legit foot taller (and wider) than him, wearing a black Armani suit with a white collard shirt underneath, a few buttons open, no tie. Multiracial with a permanent golden complexion, this man wears expensive big european glasses with a silver PRADA logo on the arm. The man is turned profile to the camera, staring at the ceiling, absently adjusting an expensive Hublot watch on his wrist. He stands with an air of superiority and arrogance. He is BLAINE HOLLYWOOD.)
CARLTON: (Cackling and tossing his racket, "Ol Bessie" in the air) "Do you want to hear a little secret? My name is CALVIN JAY CHALMERS CARLTON THE THIRD, and I'M RICH! And when your momma - MY momma, my sweet, beautiful momma who is without a doubt the richest black woman in the United States, who has to have her people tell Stedman to let Oprah know that NO, she is not interested in helping her invest in another school for dirty south african schoolgirls, when we need to keep them dumb and motivated for mining ore and hand-stitching tiny crocodile patches on my Lacoste polo shirts, and they had BETTER not get any blood on it! That's right, if you weren't sure who you were looking at - if you have never seen me because the internet terminal at your public library only allows you 30 minutes and you always 'mess up n' ferget' because you got caught up viewing pornagraphy instead of doing what you MEANT to do before your dirty loins started tingling and took control of your lizard brains-you would have been seeing me RUN THINGS in New Frontier Wrestling. And now you're watching Calvin Carlton, the CEO, Portfolio Manager and Ingenue of the Carlton Enterprises, the Carlton Trusts, and the Carlton Family DYNASTY, the most respected and wealthiest stables in the history of this sport stand before you and visually emasculate you. (Cuts the air with his racket with an overhand volley)
"And that is fine, because I don't expect much from people like the "fans" of wrestling - people who think a 4-star dinner involves the foodcourt SubWay inside a Wal-Mart and splitting a 5-dollar sandwich, taking more than your share of soft drink refills, and distracting the cashier while your filthy, crooked-toothed children steal luncheon meat from behind the counter and stuff it into their pockets, "for later" (which means "tomorrow's dinner"). I don't expect ANYTHING from you, but what I DO expect, is for the Ultratitle tournament to be blinded by the brilliance that is my charge, the man that is going to take the Ultratitle trophy back to the Carlton estates, the multi-million dollar expanse, affectionately known as "Valhalla". That will be the feather in my managerial cap, and just one more standing point that declares the DYNASTY unstoppable! (Cackles and thrusts the racket at the camera) Tell these bottom-feeders who you are, Blaine!"
H'WOOD: (Inhaling) "I AM AN OXONIAN. That ALONE makes me better than you. When you churls were begging your way through a low-C grade via oral favors to a balding adjunct in exchange for not failing out, because your single-parent household couldn't afford to have TWO people without futures reside there, Blaine Hollywood, the FUTURE PERFECT was dining with monarchs and dukes and using utensils at my place setting that you never knew existed. (CAL cackles) I am an athlete of the highest caliber, and also bearing the pedigree of a second-generation wrestler, I have the talent and moveset to render any opponent dumbstruck, which isn't that hard considering WHOOOOMMMM i've seen looking over the roster of the Ultratitle tournament. I do not care! If you are the champion of some trailer park federation where there is no TV deal, but an episodic handheld camera capture and a youtube account. I do not care! If you've come to the Ultratitle from ripping a coupon out the back of a PWI magazine and now are praying to make a name for yourself. NONE OF THIS MATTERS when you've faced me, and I've just SNATCHED THE AIR FROM YOUR LUNGS BY EXPLOSIVELY LAUNCHING MY KNEES THROUGH YOUR BACK via my finishing maneuver. Lungblower, Backstabber - all the same, Calvin has coined it "That's Entertainment" and it does delight me to destroy men in that wrestling ring, so I find it . . . APROPOS to say the least. (CAL cackles again)
"Your best course of action is to pray that you DO NOT face me in this tournament. I am here to WIN the Ultratitle. YOU ALL WILL DO NO SUCH THING. (Smirks as we hear a tinny bell, and the elevator doors open, flooding in light! the camera turns around to show encased glass doors, showing the outside deck of a helipad - we're now on the roof of a skyscraper, and a gold (!) helicopter with a huge Dynasty crest insignia awaits, rotors slowly spinning, as CALVIN exits the doors first, his tie flapping in the wind! Two 'perfect Ten' ladies wait patiently next to the doors) My name is Blaine Hollywood and I WILL place my name on top of this business, o'er the bodies of my opponents, and you're helpless to do anything about it. BEHOLD! What I say is GOSPEL. And when an OXONIAN SPEAKS..."
CARLTON: (Now wearing a gold flight helmet with a headset, the wind whipping around him, cackling!) "IT'S AS GOOD AS GOLD!"
(FADEOUT as the men load in to the chopper, followed by the ladies!)
CARLTON: (Cackling and tossing his racket, "Ol Bessie" in the air) "Do you want to hear a little secret? My name is CALVIN JAY CHALMERS CARLTON THE THIRD, and I'M RICH! And when your momma - MY momma, my sweet, beautiful momma who is without a doubt the richest black woman in the United States, who has to have her people tell Stedman to let Oprah know that NO, she is not interested in helping her invest in another school for dirty south african schoolgirls, when we need to keep them dumb and motivated for mining ore and hand-stitching tiny crocodile patches on my Lacoste polo shirts, and they had BETTER not get any blood on it! That's right, if you weren't sure who you were looking at - if you have never seen me because the internet terminal at your public library only allows you 30 minutes and you always 'mess up n' ferget' because you got caught up viewing pornagraphy instead of doing what you MEANT to do before your dirty loins started tingling and took control of your lizard brains-you would have been seeing me RUN THINGS in New Frontier Wrestling. And now you're watching Calvin Carlton, the CEO, Portfolio Manager and Ingenue of the Carlton Enterprises, the Carlton Trusts, and the Carlton Family DYNASTY, the most respected and wealthiest stables in the history of this sport stand before you and visually emasculate you. (Cuts the air with his racket with an overhand volley)
"And that is fine, because I don't expect much from people like the "fans" of wrestling - people who think a 4-star dinner involves the foodcourt SubWay inside a Wal-Mart and splitting a 5-dollar sandwich, taking more than your share of soft drink refills, and distracting the cashier while your filthy, crooked-toothed children steal luncheon meat from behind the counter and stuff it into their pockets, "for later" (which means "tomorrow's dinner"). I don't expect ANYTHING from you, but what I DO expect, is for the Ultratitle tournament to be blinded by the brilliance that is my charge, the man that is going to take the Ultratitle trophy back to the Carlton estates, the multi-million dollar expanse, affectionately known as "Valhalla". That will be the feather in my managerial cap, and just one more standing point that declares the DYNASTY unstoppable! (Cackles and thrusts the racket at the camera) Tell these bottom-feeders who you are, Blaine!"
H'WOOD: (Inhaling) "I AM AN OXONIAN. That ALONE makes me better than you. When you churls were begging your way through a low-C grade via oral favors to a balding adjunct in exchange for not failing out, because your single-parent household couldn't afford to have TWO people without futures reside there, Blaine Hollywood, the FUTURE PERFECT was dining with monarchs and dukes and using utensils at my place setting that you never knew existed. (CAL cackles) I am an athlete of the highest caliber, and also bearing the pedigree of a second-generation wrestler, I have the talent and moveset to render any opponent dumbstruck, which isn't that hard considering WHOOOOMMMM i've seen looking over the roster of the Ultratitle tournament. I do not care! If you are the champion of some trailer park federation where there is no TV deal, but an episodic handheld camera capture and a youtube account. I do not care! If you've come to the Ultratitle from ripping a coupon out the back of a PWI magazine and now are praying to make a name for yourself. NONE OF THIS MATTERS when you've faced me, and I've just SNATCHED THE AIR FROM YOUR LUNGS BY EXPLOSIVELY LAUNCHING MY KNEES THROUGH YOUR BACK via my finishing maneuver. Lungblower, Backstabber - all the same, Calvin has coined it "That's Entertainment" and it does delight me to destroy men in that wrestling ring, so I find it . . . APROPOS to say the least. (CAL cackles again)
"Your best course of action is to pray that you DO NOT face me in this tournament. I am here to WIN the Ultratitle. YOU ALL WILL DO NO SUCH THING. (Smirks as we hear a tinny bell, and the elevator doors open, flooding in light! the camera turns around to show encased glass doors, showing the outside deck of a helipad - we're now on the roof of a skyscraper, and a gold (!) helicopter with a huge Dynasty crest insignia awaits, rotors slowly spinning, as CALVIN exits the doors first, his tie flapping in the wind! Two 'perfect Ten' ladies wait patiently next to the doors) My name is Blaine Hollywood and I WILL place my name on top of this business, o'er the bodies of my opponents, and you're helpless to do anything about it. BEHOLD! What I say is GOSPEL. And when an OXONIAN SPEAKS..."
CARLTON: (Now wearing a gold flight helmet with a headset, the wind whipping around him, cackling!) "IT'S AS GOOD AS GOLD!"
(FADEOUT as the men load in to the chopper, followed by the ladies!)