Baton Rouge: Phil Atken v. Raucous

[fugginVOSS]

All RPs go here

RP Deadline: April 4th, 2013 - Midnight Los Angeles Time
RP Limit: 2 RPs
RP Word Limit: 1,500 words

 

[John Doe]

I aM tiRed of loSing, PHIL!!!!!!!!!

“Well....

..Well...

...Well...

isn't this just a DOOZY!?”

[Raucous is in full ring attire as always! He stands in a completely white room, it's very bright, think Matrix when Morpheus is explaining the Matrix to Neo...yeah that white. Raucous is pacing back and forth in this white space his finger shaking up and down, his other hand rubbing his masked chin]

“I get to wrestle two times in the IGC, now those weren't the best performances. Like they always say test the waters before jumpin' fully in! I did do some damage out there though and because of that...”

[Pause, turn to camera and point in full excitement]

“I get to face the ex-champ himself Phil Atkins!!....
ooooooohhhhh PPPPPHHHHHHIIIIILLLLLYYYYY BOOOOOOOYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!

I'm just so flipping excited I can feel in in...my...toes. I mean it's you! I get to wrestle you! I have so many napkins for you to sign for me!......of course I wouldn't sell them on ebay.

But…...oh how the mighty have fallen! Now you're like me! Another commoner. Which is good, you know sometimes ya need a'little contact with reality again.....WELCOME HOME!”

[Raucous uses one hand and begins pointing upwards]

“The guys love me Philly-Poo! Heck, I lost two matches in a row and they go on and throw me to you. Pfft! What's that tell you right there my man!?

That I am about to wrestle the ex-champion because they think I am an easy win for you to get back on top.

DERP!”

[The camera turns to an over head shot of Raucous, we are looking down at him and him up at us]

“Commmeeeee ooooooonn!!! Do I look that dumb to you guys UP there? I mean really?! Like that's going to work?

Stop it!”

[Front shot of Raucous his head coming down to look back at the camera]

“Philly-sweet-tart, you did somthin' most guys wouldn't, you came back to play ball with us. Even though you're probably really mad that you lost your title and cried in a drunken slumber for days....DAYS!

Hired a few hookers, maybe caught a coochie critta or two. WHO KNOWS!

Oh gawd the amount of self realization you musta went through....”

[He starts to fake cry]

“OH WHY DID I HAVE TO LOSE MY TITLE?! I WAS SUCH A BAD GUY!!!! I CAN CHANGE!”

[Raucous suddenly stops and throws his hands forward at the camera, his voice changing to a deep southern.]

“Come to da LAWWWRDDD, brotha!!!!!!”

[Voice comes back to normal]

“But then you got guys...like...me......who wanna take your ball and POP IT right in front of your eyes. A little thanks for playin' memento.

So...I guess....what I am sayin' here is.

A guy like me....has nothin' to lose when wrestlin' a dude like you.

You're the former champ Philly-honeypie, and because of that people EXPECT you to win. I am just the guy who lost two weeks in a row.”

[He puts his hand up like stop]

“BUT!

STOP

WAIT A MINUTE!

What if, and it's been known to happen, out of left field comes me....WHOOPING YOUR ASS!!!!! Pillar ta post, canvass ta apron, up down, left, right, sideways if I have to! Because I am sick of losin' PHIL!

Two weeks in a row I have lost and I think it's time for a big ol' double-ya.

And imma kick your ass like its nineteen nighty four!”

[He grabs the camera and pulls it close to his mask]

“THAT MEANS VIOLENCE!!!!!!!!!

Sorry, I ain't a bad guy Phil, sure I hate you cause you are a scummy poop head but I'm sorry I gotta make your losses that much greater.

That just doesn't make me sad Philly-pumpkin...”

[Cut to:

]

FADE OUT

 

[Colin]

Today is a very special day in the world of the Intergalactic Commission of Intergalactic Champions as the former Intergalactic Champion, the man who in fact claims to be the ONLY TRUE Intergalactic Champion has decided to once again embrace the spotlight and stand once more afront the IGC backdrop that he has come to loathe over the months prior. Yes, standing directly in front of the camera with a glare that implies some very deep abyss gazing stands Phil Atken himself in his first appearance since his tragic and untimely loss to Magnus Destructo at the start of the Unlucky for Some tour. Indeed, it was very unlucky for poor Phil Atken.

Phil stares down the lens for a few brief moments before snapping himself out of it, as he launches into one of his trademark... somethings. I'm not really sure what it is to be honest with you but it's there and it's happening.

Atken: I suppose I'm expected to show up here enraged, perhaps our dearest Morton wishes my to foam at the mouth in front of these cheap rate cameras he bought off the back of his cousin's van before then they went to a strip joint and Morton made it rain with his five dollars in singles. It's ridiculous, this place, I know that they're crying out for me, the only true champion that this promotion will ever see and yet when I do them the grand courtesy of returning their endless voice mails begging me to show my wondrous face again... I get told that I am not to be given my rightful re-match against the pointless and worthless lug that claims to be the champion of many a galaxy. No, I don't get what I deserve, I get something much more... pointless... worthless... wasteful. So many words to describe what the fans in Baton Rouge will be wasting their hard earned pennies on. I've heard the place has fallen on some hard times without me, 5 pennies a ticket? Honestly Morton, you embarrass even yourself sometimes.

Atken pulls out a bunch of change from his trouser pocket and begins to count away at it, referring to it as his IGC salary as he does so.

Atken: Well, I guess I just don't have enough money to buy a ticket so wrestling it is. Wrestling it is indeed and what kind of opponent is primed and ready for the one true champion? A wrestling legend? A hot up and coming prospect? A busty brunette? Sadly, none of them fit with the vision of turning this company into a flaming rubbish truck wreckage zone. Just when you think that this ramshackle operation of a company could not sink any lower than it already has... we get Couscous. I mean for a start, I don't really understand why you would name yourself after wheat but I'm never one to quite understand the inner workings of the children of this industry. I mean what the hell does Legend of Eight even mean? I remember when wrestler had purposeful names like The Crusher or The Destroyer or the Mysterious Crusher Destroyer. All talented men who really helped bring me up in this industry as a toiled away in the Canadian independent scene for those two weeks. Of course then, being the ultra talented being that I am, I was scooped away to elsewhere. I can't remember where to be honest with you, I was pretty drunk through close to all of the AUGHTIES. Apparently at one point I had a midget father and a viking mother. I'm not even sure how that works. Well, I assume it'd involve a heavy amount of lube and the liberal use of a step ladder...

Phil shudders at the very thought of the image he just constructed within his own mind head.

Atken: Oh god, look at me, rambling away like a mad old fool trying to hang on to the tatters of his career as everything implodes around him. Enough of my noted wit, let us get down to the serious matters of what confronts me at Baton Rouge... a teenage girl who just overloaded on sugar pills. Well I can only assume that is what Raucous is because god knows that is how this masked man of little note seems to wish to present himself. Maybe he's wanting to show himself as unstable, unbalanced, a mad man ready to pounce on whoever stands in his way to rise to the top of the ranks of this industry but Raucous, I had to be the one to break it to you, Morton Murphy already has his mentally deficient masked man golden boy. Built the entire promotion around him in fact. I may have ruined that plan on two separate occasions due to my raw talent and magnetism but that doesn't change the fact that you Raucous are meaningless in the grand scheme of things. You are a cameo in this promotion and if Morton wishes to feel generous, he may even credit you on the DVD cover... but I've never known Morton to be generous.

Perhaps you thought you were going to play mind games with me Raucous, you were going to mispronounce my name, you were going to flirt with me, you were going to threaten all manner of body warfare because the rumours have begun to circulate around the locker room since I refused to appear in Hot Springs that I am a man on the edge. I am a bitter man who is ready to flip his lid and if you are to one to finally send me teetering off the side of that cliff then you can finally earn that precious win you have been so desperately seeking in this clown show, getting you on the road to the TWO wins that you desire to get that prestigious title shot.

TWO WINS.

TWO.

WINS.

You know, I pinned Magnus Destructo in the middle of the ring, DEAD CENTRE. Did you know he only earned that shot because of a single, solitary win? When I sent Leyenda De Ocho crashing down to Earth from the top of a scaffolding because being the Intergalactic Champion was my pride and joy and I was willing to risk everything, to do anything to ensure that I remained champion, Ocho got that shot with one win... and hell he got to choose the stips too against me too. He chose the stips, he stacked the deck because he wanted to prove some grand point. He wanted people to point to him as the man who pushed Phil Atken to his limit, he wanted to be the Intergalactic Champion who earned it by going through hell and seeing the other side. He got all the opportunities in the world to get this belt off of me and he got them through a single win. ONE WIN. AND HE STILL FAILED.

Magnus Destructo? The supposed champion right now. He earned his second shot at me, weeks after my body was twisted like a pretzel against Ocho, when I put my very future on the line to remain this company's figure head and he took advantage of it. He beat me, he beat the husk that remained of me after such a brutal affair that with Ocho's little fever dream of a Zelda bout. Now, you have to win two matches to even think about getting a shot. Now the barrier is in the champions favour. I bet you won't see any of Magnus' opponents get to have free reign on the match type they desire because Magnus, for all his flaws, fits the mold of this company. His antics, his japery, his sidekick buffoons, they are appealing to the internet generation, similar to you in a way Raucous and your terrible vulgar usage of internet memes to address a former champion.

I think perhaps you have thought that you are striking while the iron is hot, that I am downtrodden and ready to fall. Do you think that you can use me as a launching pad for your career? Do you think that I am an easy man to take down? Morton Murphy had to screw me over to get the belt from my clutches because I was just too good, he had to throw anything and everything he could and when he finally got his wish, he tilted the balance back in the champion's favour.

You want to threaten some violence? Some anger? You want to beat me up to prove a point? Ask Leyenda if he enjoyed his trip from the roof of the arena at V for Victoralicious. Ask him what I'm willing to do to cling on to what is mine and think about what I'm willing to do to get back there.

I don't need to change, this company needs to change and I am here to ensure that is does Raucous. That begins with you and ends a lot sooner than anyone thinks.