DizzaHizza
Official Unofficial FW Party Pimp
* Fade in on a hand knocking on a door. A small tag reading "#1201" swings from side to side as "Wildfire" Johnny Rage answers. Shockingly, he slams the door in the NFW camera crew's faces. The sound man adjusts his headset as the boom-mic picks up raised voices through the door. Before the hand can knock again, the door bursts wide-open. *
WILDFIRE: "GREAT! It's NFW. How's everyone doing? Ummm, Kin isn't here right now, so you should come back later. Me and Styles are just, uh, house sitting."
* A tiny sweat has broken out on Wildfire's forehead. He nervously wipes his brow and a quick cough escapes. After a moment of nothingness, he coughs again, but louder this time. Johnny Styles slowly creeps around from behind the ajar door with a giant fake smile. Obvious nervousness grips his attitude as well. *
STYLES: "Heeeeeeey there camera guys. What can we do for you? Wildfire, did you tell them Kin is NOT home?"
WILDFIRE: "Yup."
STYLES: "And they're still here?"
WILDFIRE: "Yup."
STYLES: "Do you think they are going to want to sit here until Kin gets back?"
* Wildfire looks even more perplexed, and looks to Styles. *
WILDFIRE: "We didn't talk about this part of our scripted conversation, but I'll see if they want to stay."
* All the color drops from Styles' face, as Wildfire graciously invites the camera crew into Hiroshi's apartment, and the NFW employees shuffle into the abode slowly. Immediately, Styles races to a side door, and dives to shut it. A foot, from inside the other room, catches the door. Styles looks up from the ground, and quickly retreats to a fetal position as Kin Hiroshi steps over him. *
HIROSHI: "Sorry to bother you, Inspector Clouseau. I can see you're busy with business, but do you REALLY want me to attack you everytime you come home? I mean, I don't want to hurt you."
* Wildfire straightens up, and a whole new persona takes over him. *
WILDFIRE: "CATO! You shall do as I say! I am your master, and you shall obey. After all, I pay you for this."
HIROSHI: "Sure thing, Inspector."
* Hiroshi bows, and subserviantly retreats back into the ajoining room, closing the door behind him. Wildfire's attitude returns back to nervous apprehension, and Styles is quickly on his feet. *
STYLES: "Listen. Guys. We'd hate to have to kill you so you should just stop recording and give us those tapes."
** FADE TO BLACK **
WILDFIRE: "GREAT! It's NFW. How's everyone doing? Ummm, Kin isn't here right now, so you should come back later. Me and Styles are just, uh, house sitting."
* A tiny sweat has broken out on Wildfire's forehead. He nervously wipes his brow and a quick cough escapes. After a moment of nothingness, he coughs again, but louder this time. Johnny Styles slowly creeps around from behind the ajar door with a giant fake smile. Obvious nervousness grips his attitude as well. *
STYLES: "Heeeeeeey there camera guys. What can we do for you? Wildfire, did you tell them Kin is NOT home?"
WILDFIRE: "Yup."
STYLES: "And they're still here?"
WILDFIRE: "Yup."
STYLES: "Do you think they are going to want to sit here until Kin gets back?"
* Wildfire looks even more perplexed, and looks to Styles. *
WILDFIRE: "We didn't talk about this part of our scripted conversation, but I'll see if they want to stay."
* All the color drops from Styles' face, as Wildfire graciously invites the camera crew into Hiroshi's apartment, and the NFW employees shuffle into the abode slowly. Immediately, Styles races to a side door, and dives to shut it. A foot, from inside the other room, catches the door. Styles looks up from the ground, and quickly retreats to a fetal position as Kin Hiroshi steps over him. *
HIROSHI: "Sorry to bother you, Inspector Clouseau. I can see you're busy with business, but do you REALLY want me to attack you everytime you come home? I mean, I don't want to hurt you."
* Wildfire straightens up, and a whole new persona takes over him. *
WILDFIRE: "CATO! You shall do as I say! I am your master, and you shall obey. After all, I pay you for this."
HIROSHI: "Sure thing, Inspector."
* Hiroshi bows, and subserviantly retreats back into the ajoining room, closing the door behind him. Wildfire's attitude returns back to nervous apprehension, and Styles is quickly on his feet. *
STYLES: "Listen. Guys. We'd hate to have to kill you so you should just stop recording and give us those tapes."
** FADE TO BLACK **