Af'aa vs. Erik Mateo
- Thread starter Stalker
- Start date
TSiegel
I spoil things.
(Fadein, the broken-down bar in Las Vegas otherwise known to many as Mateo's Pub. Broken beer bottles lay about, tables turned over, even a broken television that has a shattered screen lies on the floor as Mateo lies passed out in the upright sitting position, his cowboy hat lowered over his face, his breathing alittle ragged. Seems like another weekend drawn into the "work-week" for the Cowboy from Sin City, as the camera man's hand slaps the side of his shoulder afew times to wake him up but to no avail. Afew finger snaps fall by the wayside as Mateo sits still as a statue, a slight faint snore heard under his breath; he was drunk again. Finally, the hand protrudes from behind the camera and slaps Mateo across the face, HARD. Blathering gibberish, he grabs at his hat and sits back up, attempting to find his bearing but falls back down due to the hangover period. He tries two more times before finally lifting the brim up on his hat and noticing the camera light shining in his face. The hand from behind the camera holds up one hand to stop Mateo, switching to one finger, motioning for the Cowboy to stand fast. The hand retracts and then protrudes again, producing a paper with the International Wrestling Federation letters in black-blocked lettering. The same finger taps the paper until Mateo is able to focus enough to read what's printed and crumples up the paper, firing it across the bar. Staggering himself to an upright position, he sets himself steady and downs a random shot glass, wiping his mouth with the backside of his hand.)
EM: S' lemme gayt thus strut....Maruh-Lou Haynner been gitten har ace beet die en an' die aht, bet sh' steel has ah jahb....wheel....ah s'pose ain' nahthin tah do 'bout thayt, lace than' ah wont es ah faymenest lowsoot 'gaynst meh...ah m'an jes' look ayt thes plice...
(Mateo pauses a second and scans the perimeter of the building, silently scolding himself.)
EM: En tha' mayne tahm...Cap'n Flaw ain' 'zactlee envensaybull, ah mayne...ayt leest ah no ah cane ho'd mah oh'n.
(The hand protrudes from behind the camera and shows Mateo the last event's lineup, complete with Emerald City Championship match between Vizier ta Seti and Perfection. Pointing to the words "EMERALD CITY CHAMPIONSHIP", it comes to no avail even as the hand taps the paper as Mateo snatches the paper and crumples it up, tossing it out of camera view.)
EM: Whoo cars?? Tha' fack es thayt hays fahtin' thayt udder boy....whut's hays nayme??
(Mateo looks down for a second as the camera man's hand clenches a fist and starts shaking madly, but quickly opens and waves off the answer when Mateo looks back up, as if to tell the viewer that the cameraman has no clue)
EM: "Pop Tart"?? "Popcorn"?? "Pop-ah-squat"?? Hail, it don' much madder...tha' fack es thayt Ah cahd out tha ent'r comp'nee an' awll ah gawt wuz ah gah thayt hays a daynce fer ah lace-name....Raymund Tango....dayum...thus mah'grayn es stahtin' ta gayt ta meh....Raymund Tango?? Nah....Tango 'N' Cash?? Nah....thayt wuz ah flick....hail...it don' madder...
Tha poyn' es thayt thayt boy don' beh-lon' en' mah' rang....an' ah' pah-roooved et.
Bet her' weh ar'...ayn ets' tha' Ah-Dubya-Eff's BEG SHO'....an' whut do' tha manag'men' hav' 'gaynst tha' gah thayt gaht luckeh 'gaynst meh??
Thayt brok'n' do'n loooser Rock' Damon-Wayans....an' ah gaht sum gah nayme....Af'ull....Aflac...Af'a--ah sca-rew it!!!
Ah gaht anudder mid-eestern boy thayts jest AW-FULL!!!
Ah'm tell'n' youse folks whut....Ah'ma' com' do'n'....er...up ta' See-attah'...an' ah'm gonn' ter' hes' heed' off!!!
A'far...Jafar...youse don' stain ah chaynce.
Ace fer tha' BEG SHAT....Vivian Strife...Vincent Van Gozer...whatever yer name es....cape yer ah's en tha' bayck ah' yer heed....beh-caus' ah ain' fergot 'boutcha' neether...
(Mateo grabs at his head for a minute, rubbing his temples)
Bet fer' raht nah'....ah won' an ass-prin....
(Mateo grasps for a nearby chair as he falls into it awkwardly, passing out.)
FADEOUT
EM: S' lemme gayt thus strut....Maruh-Lou Haynner been gitten har ace beet die en an' die aht, bet sh' steel has ah jahb....wheel....ah s'pose ain' nahthin tah do 'bout thayt, lace than' ah wont es ah faymenest lowsoot 'gaynst meh...ah m'an jes' look ayt thes plice...
(Mateo pauses a second and scans the perimeter of the building, silently scolding himself.)
EM: En tha' mayne tahm...Cap'n Flaw ain' 'zactlee envensaybull, ah mayne...ayt leest ah no ah cane ho'd mah oh'n.
(The hand protrudes from behind the camera and shows Mateo the last event's lineup, complete with Emerald City Championship match between Vizier ta Seti and Perfection. Pointing to the words "EMERALD CITY CHAMPIONSHIP", it comes to no avail even as the hand taps the paper as Mateo snatches the paper and crumples it up, tossing it out of camera view.)
EM: Whoo cars?? Tha' fack es thayt hays fahtin' thayt udder boy....whut's hays nayme??
(Mateo looks down for a second as the camera man's hand clenches a fist and starts shaking madly, but quickly opens and waves off the answer when Mateo looks back up, as if to tell the viewer that the cameraman has no clue)
EM: "Pop Tart"?? "Popcorn"?? "Pop-ah-squat"?? Hail, it don' much madder...tha' fack es thayt Ah cahd out tha ent'r comp'nee an' awll ah gawt wuz ah gah thayt hays a daynce fer ah lace-name....Raymund Tango....dayum...thus mah'grayn es stahtin' ta gayt ta meh....Raymund Tango?? Nah....Tango 'N' Cash?? Nah....thayt wuz ah flick....hail...it don' madder...
Tha poyn' es thayt thayt boy don' beh-lon' en' mah' rang....an' ah' pah-roooved et.
Bet her' weh ar'...ayn ets' tha' Ah-Dubya-Eff's BEG SHO'....an' whut do' tha manag'men' hav' 'gaynst tha' gah thayt gaht luckeh 'gaynst meh??
Thayt brok'n' do'n loooser Rock' Damon-Wayans....an' ah gaht sum gah nayme....Af'ull....Aflac...Af'a--ah sca-rew it!!!
Ah gaht anudder mid-eestern boy thayts jest AW-FULL!!!
Ah'm tell'n' youse folks whut....Ah'ma' com' do'n'....er...up ta' See-attah'...an' ah'm gonn' ter' hes' heed' off!!!
A'far...Jafar...youse don' stain ah chaynce.
Ace fer tha' BEG SHAT....Vivian Strife...Vincent Van Gozer...whatever yer name es....cape yer ah's en tha' bayck ah' yer heed....beh-caus' ah ain' fergot 'boutcha' neether...
(Mateo grabs at his head for a minute, rubbing his temples)
Bet fer' raht nah'....ah won' an ass-prin....
(Mateo grasps for a nearby chair as he falls into it awkwardly, passing out.)
FADEOUT