[FADE IN: on some shakey handheld iPhone footage being taken. You can hear the huffing and puffing of the fanboy holding the phone He is filming a man in a charcoal pinstripe suit pacing back and forth out the front of a cafeteria in what looks like Philadelphia..]
“Dude... that’s fucking Morton Murphy. He’s on the phone. I think this is some sort’f inside scoop kinda shit, man.”
[The phone holder tries to get as close as he can and the audio of MORTON MURPHY becomes clearer as he gets closer to him.]
“The deal is, my friend, that you come in and you get your guy to tear that Sylo a new asshole. And then when he\'s done with him he does the same to Atken, if Phil manages to keep that belt when he faces Ocho in that crazy match.”
[He pauses, waiting for a response.]
“I dunno. It’s some sort of video game thing. I’m in Philly right now getting quotes. I should’f put some sort of money limit on the stips.
“This is going to be fucking expensive.
“This match better go for an hour, or someone better DIE, for me to get ANY return on investment.
“You’re missing the point... the point is you tell our mutual friend he needs to show his face and lay down this challenge for V for Victoralicious.
“Like I said... he lays this down and whoever wins walks away with an Intergalactic Championship shot. No strings attached. He just gets ‚Äì this ‚Äì DONE!”
[MURPHY looks up and spies the iPhone being held up filming it. He covers the mouthpiece.]
“HEY! Is that filming? Come here you little bastard!”
[MORTON MURPHY begins charging toward the handheld device.]
“OH SHIT, DAWG! He’s comin’ right for us!”
[The footage begins swinging back and forth in the hand of the owner as he makes a run for it before-
[CUT to BLACK!]
Last edited by fugginVOSS; 01-31-13 at 07:17 PM.
(CUE UP: "The Satan of Hell" by the Black Satans.)
(Our shot opens up on the horrific visage of MAGNUS DESTRUCTO, snarling at the camera with the fury and hatred of a thousand suns burning in his damning gaze.)
Magnus DestructonLISTEN, YOU GOAT-SCROTUM SUCKING LEECHES!! LISTEN TO THE ALMIGHTY PROCLAMATIONS OF THE DREADED DEVOURER!!
INTERGALACTIC CHAMPIONSHIP COMMISSION!! YOU HAVE THREE SUNS AND THREE MOONS TO HAND OVER THE BLIND AND OBVIOUSLY INBRED RING OFFICIAL THAT WORKED DURING THAT MAIN EVENT, OR THE BARON OF BRUTALITY SHALL HERALD FORTH AN AGE OF DARKNESS AND DOOM THAT WILL BEFALL THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE!!
IF HE CAN'T USE THE EYES IN HIS FUCKING HUGE, BOOT-EATING, HYDRO-CEPHALIC HEAD, THEN I'LL GLADLY TAKE THEM FROM HIM!! FRIED HUMAN EYES ARE A FAVORED DELICACY IN THE BARONY OF DESTRUCTO, AFTER ALL!!
AND AS FOR YOU, PHIL ATKEN... I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW, THERE WAS MORE BRUTALITY IN THAT ONE HANDFUL OF BUTT-CHEEK YOU USED YOU SNEAK AWAY FROM MY MURDEROUS MAW THAN THERE IS IN YOUR ENTIRE BODY!! YOU'VE ESCAPED MY WRATH FOR NOW, BUT KNOW THAT AS LONG AS YOU HOLD THE BELT THAT SHOULD BE MINE BY CONQUEST, MY THIRST FOR BLOOD WILL NEVER BE SLAKED!!
ONTO OTHER MATTERS...
I DON'T KNOW WHO OR WHAT THE FUCK A "SYLO" IS, OTHER THAN THOSE DICK-SHAPED BUILDINGS I SEE STANDING AROUND WHENEVER I TAKE THE DESTRUCTO-MOBILE FOR A SPIN THROUGH SOME BACKWATER REDNECK CESSPOOL... BUT SOMETHING NEEDS TO MADE CLEAR RIGHT HERE AND NOW, BEFORE I START KICKING HEADS OFF LEFT AND RIGHT!!
THERE IS ONLY ONE KING OF ALL MONSTERS... AND SINCE I'M ASSUMING MOST OF YOU ARE TOO RETARDED TO FIGURE OUT WHO THAT IS, IT'S THE MAN-EATING MASTODON YOU SEE BEFORE YOU NOW!!
THEY DON'T CALL ME THE KING OF ALL MONSTERS JUST BECAUSE IT SOUNDS FUCKING AWESOME!! IT TOOK WINNING AN ENTIRE FREAKING TOURNAMENT AND THE VIOLENT DECAPITATION THE ORIGINAL IMPULSE FOR ME TO EARN THAT NAMESAKE... AND BELIEVE ME, YOU PUNY MORSELS, I'M NOT ABOUT TO LET SOME JUICED UP POSER NAMED AFTER A DICK-SHAPED FARMER FUCKHOUSE SELL HIS OWN WORTHLESS ASS ON MY HARD FOUGHT ACCOMPLISHMENTS!!
SO SYLO... CONSIDER THIS TO BE MY WAY OF THROWING DOWN THE MOTHERFUCKING GAUNTLET!! A GAUNTLET CAST IN BLACK STEEL AND STUDDED WITH THE SPIKES OF HELLSPAWN!! A GAUNTLET STILL CAKED IN THE BLOOD THAT WAS LEFT THERE WHEN I PUNCHED OUT YOUR OBESE AND UGLY WHALE OF A MOTHER!!
THE BARON OF BRUTALITY DEMANDS YOU DRAG YOURSELF INTO THAT FUCKING RING TO ANSWER FOR YOUR CRIMES OF PLAGIARISM... AND JUST TO MAKE SURE YOU DON'T PUSS OUT... A SHOT AT THE INTERGALACTIC CHAMPION WILL BE ON THE LINE!!
NOT THAT ANY OF THAT MATTERS TO YOU, SUPER-QUEEF... BECAUSE FOR LIFTNING MY NAME, I WILL RIP YOUR LEGS OFF BELOW THE KNEE AND FEED YOUR LIMBS TO MY HELLHOUNDS!! MAYBE THEN, WHEN YOU'RE LEFT TO WALKING AROUND ON A COUPLE OF NUBS AND LOOKING AT THE WORLD FROM THE SAME LEVEL AS ALL THE OTHER MEAGER WEAKLINGS OUT THERE IN THE UNIVERSE, YOU'LL REALIZE WHAT A LAME AND UNORIGINAL TARD YOU REALLY ARE!!!!
AND WHETHER IT BE PHIL SHITSPLATKEN OR THAT MASKED MIDGET LAJOYA DELNACHO HOLDING THAT INTERGALACTIC CHAMPIONSHIP AT THE END OF THE NIGHT, ALL WILL REALIZE, AFTER THEY'VE SEEN THE UNGODLY THINGS I'VE DONE TO YOU, THAT THE FATE OF THE ENTIRE KNOWN UNIVERSE RESTS IN THE BONE-CRUSHING GRASP OF MAGNUS DESTRUCTO!!
(With his laugh becoming so guttural and bestial that it's practically a baritone-pitched gurgle emanating from his throat, the shot goes to black.)
Last edited by fugginVOSS; 01-31-13 at 07:20 PM.
The scene would be opened by the sound of a slow and mocking clap. Eventually the view would shift to where Sylo stood looking unamused and more apathetic than anything. He let out an exasperated sigh before rolling his neck letting the bones and tendons crack as he did so.
"This? This is your best? Okay so the proverbial "gauntlet" has been thrown down by a man that screams over shitty music, refers to hell every sentence which, by the way, implies there's a God and we all know that's not true because if there were a God he wouldn't have spawned whatever in the hell that thing is, but I digress. I'm being challenged by a "wrestler", yes the term is being used loosely, that probably got into the business because GWAR told him to fuck off AND apparently is some weird screaming hillbilly S&M loving leather aficionado. So, my answer? Sure, I mean, if I catch something from touching this...thing then I expect you guys to pay for it.
Sylo's nose scrunched up at the thought.
"Also I'd like to throw down my own "gauntlet" to this waste of humanity who honestly should have slid off his mother ass crack and became a congealed spot on the sheets...or back alley cement, whichever, and that challenge is a little known match called a "Monsters Ball". I'm sure the IGC committee can throw their own spin on it to make it even more fun but that comes later. I await your reply, Magnus, even if it'll be loud shitty music with you screaming something about fucking hell spawned pigs or whatever it is you're saying. Oh, and before I go, one more suggestion there "monster" your "evil laugh" sounds more like you're choking on your boyfriends wad. Might want to work on that."
With that everything went to black.
Last edited by fugginVOSS; 01-31-13 at 07:21 PM.
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