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  1. #1
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    [NFW vs. RDJW] Nova vs. Jaco Patterson

    No time limit. One fall to a finish.

    RP deadline is Monday, September 18th, 11:59:59 PM.
    The Wrestling Blog - I'm all grow'd up.

  2. #2
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    Jaco Patterson Is Not Cool. Nova Is Cool.

    Setting.

    Setting, setting, setting. Important stuff. There’s a reason that the word ‘setting’ begins with ‘set’…it ‘sets’ the tone. Profoundness is my middle name, but as you only know me as Nova, middle names are pretty inconsequential. I mean, you can call me Nova Profoundness if you want…but you’ll sound like a dumbass.

    Let’s think about this for a second. We’ve got sort of free reign to do what we want, since no one knows or cares who the **** I am, or has any idea where I’ve been or why I should be where I am now.

    Alright, got it. The Grey Area, one of (if not the only) American-run coffeeshops in Amsterdam, and consequently one of (if not the only) coffeeshops with music that doesn’t blow heinous ass (read: Euro-Pop or the American garbage most of us try to avoid). I mean, not to sound like a music snob, but when I’m getting blazed, I really don’t like kickin’ it to Top 40. Unless it’s my dawg Casey Kasem.

    (MUSICUP: “Statesboro Blues,” the opening track from Allman Bros. at Fillmore East, 1971, easily one of the greatest live rock albums of all time)

    Awww yeah. (FADE IN: Nova sits at one of the small tables, pulling apart frosty clumps of Grey Mist, the Grey Area’s signature prize-winning bud, and packing it into the bong in front of him). Bongs are another trademark of the Grey Area, as glass is not commonly used in the Netherlands in coffeeshops (bowls are seen as the American way to get high, but **** ‘em, right? Joint after joint ****s up your lungs after a while).

    NOVA: (to himself) Bongin’ it up…bongin’ it up…damn, this album rules.

    But he’s not alone, oh no. Why would he be? After all, the only thing better than roasting the finest of tweeds in one of Amsterdam’s illest locales…is roasting the finest of tweeds in one of Amsterdam’s illest locales…with a friend.

    (CUT TO: Johnny Depp sitting across the table from the Rising Star, rubbing his goatee pensively.)

    NOVA: (voice from off-camera) It’s all packed up, John Boy. Rip that beast.

    JOHNNY DEPP: I don’t smoke weed.

    NOVA: Listen, Depp, you’re sitting in a coffeeshop in Amsterdam with a renowned stoner. For Christ’s sake, I can barely see your strikingly attractive features through the dense haze of bud smoke floating around this place. So shut your cakehole, do as I say, and rip that beast!

    JOHNNY DEPP: Okay.

    The Depp chongs like a pro before handing the apparatus back to Nova, who nods satisfactorily.

    NOVA: That’s my dawg. I dig your style, Depp, I must say. You got a mouth on you, though, and that’s something we’re gonna have to work on.

    JOHNNY DEPP: Okay.

    Nova takes a long rip from the bong before setting it off to the side. He removes a pack of Camel Subtle Flavour cigarettes (in the US these would be Lights) and shuffles a smoke out of the pack.

    NOVA: How’s about a cigarette, my man?

    JOHNNY DEPP: Okay.

    They both spark up, and Nova takes a drag before giving his beard a healthy scratch.

    NOVA: You ever hear of TEAM, John Boy? It’s a wrestling company.

    JOHNNY DEPP: No.

    NOVA: Do you watch wrestling?

    JOHNNY DEPP: No.

    NOVA: I’m a wrestler.

    JOHNNY DEPP: Okay.

    NOVA: Well you’re missing out on some good **** with your head all buried in those faggy Tim Burton flicks you’re so attached at the hip to, but that’s neither here nor there. TEAM is running this tournament in honor of this dude Chad Dupree who I’ve never met but apparently rocked really hard, so I can dig it.

    JOHNNY DEPP: Okay.

    NOVA: Now, this tournament is comprised of teams built out of different competing feds, and whichever team wins gets to totally rep it for their fed, ya know, be all like “Whut! WHUT! **** WITH US!! **** WITH US!!,” feel me?

    [b]JOHNNY DEPP: Yes.

    Nova takes another drag from his cigarette and nods knowingly.

    NOVA: I thought you might. So I’ve been subbed in for the second round for Team NFW – that’s one of the feds that I’m in, New Frontier Wrestling – because this cat Kin Hiroshi had to bounce out…quite a shame, ‘cuz he generally holds it down pretty well. But then again, so do I.

    Nova gives Depp a wink.

    NOVA: So this week, Team NFW is pitted against Team RJDW, this fed apparently full of utter whack-jobs, and yours truly gets to face off against Jaco Patterson, the supposed bastard child of Pat Patterson, not that would probably mean much to you, huh?

    JOHNNY DEPP: No.

    NOVA: Try to keep it under control, Depp. We’re in public. So anyhoo, this guy thinks he’s totally hot **** because of his controversial lineage, but he didn’t count on me finding THIS!!

    Nova reaches into his pocket and dramatically removes a crumpled photo.





    The Rising Star stares at Depp, an expectant grin on his face.

    NOVA: Huh? Right? Now I know what you’re thinking…“Is that a photo of Nova’s mom getting railed by George Clinton?” AND IT TOTALLY IS!! The print on the back says “May 1978”…approximately nine months before I was born! DUDE!! Do you understand the ramifications of this?! I’m the bastard son of George Clinton! Parliament-Funkadelic-Funk-Mob-P-Funk-All-Stars-Greatest-Band-That-Ever-Lived GEORGE CLINTON!!

    JOHNNY DEPP: Okay.

    NOVA: This totally trumps Lame-Dick Jaco Patterson’s claim to fame! And it also explains why I’m hung like an African Rhino!

    The Depp stares at Nova, no-selling his testicular boast.

    NOVA: Alright, a horse. One of those breeding steeds with the mammoth dongers.

    Depp takes another drag from his cigarette.

    NOVA: Jesus, okay. Ron Jeremy. I’m on par with that dude for sure, and much better looking, if I don’t mind saying so.

    Depp finishes the cigarette and puts it out in an ash-tray.

    NOVA: Fine, you ass! It’s nothing to write home about down there, but it ain’t the size of the boat, but rather the motion in the ocean, dig me?

    Johnny picks his nose.

    NOVA: What the ****?! Okay! Okay! I’m hung like an infant, is that what you wanted to hear? Is it?! ****ing Hollywood snob!

    Depp sighs loudly.

    NOVA: I’m not going lower than infant.

    Depp shrugs nonchalantly.

    NOVA: Fetus.

    JOHNNY DEPP: Okay.

    The two stare intently at one another for a moment, the delicious guitar licks of the Allman Bros. floating around in the hazy atmosphere of the Grey Area.

    NOVA: Wanna be best friends?

    JOHNNY DEPP: Okay.
    SUPERFLY EXPRESS - Nova & Jack Harmen (NFW Everette Memorial Tag Champions)

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