CALGARY: Promo vs. Mr. Entertainment

[TH]

The only UXW Champion in history and Hardcore Icon takes on the most exciting new face in NEW.

 

[Promo]

(FADEIN to the masked man known as Promo. The locker room where he sits, is dark, as he likes it. After the camera closes in on him, he begins to speak.)

PROMO: Here I am, Chapel! Here I am in your new little interest. Part of your...........TEAM..........once again, I suppose.

For those that don't know me, then you have missed out. For those that do know me, then you know that you don't want to face me.

For those that think they don't give a damn about who I am, then you will be the ones to feel the pain and suffering that only I can deal out.

Apparently, the first to find himself in this position, is Mr. Entertainment.

Just exactly what are you doing to "Entertain" anyone around here? Do you sing? Dance a little jig? Or maybe you can tell a ****ing joke?

No?

****. I was hoping to be able to get a joke or two out of you while we're in the ring, but I don't think that's going to happen. No, because when that bell rings, and I begin ripping you to shreds with anything that I can get my hands on, then you'll know that you were simply outclassed.

Jess Chapel knows who I am. He knows what I can do. That's why I'm here. Win, lose, or draw. It doesn't matter to me, just as long as I get to make someone bleed.

(FADEOUT)

 

[EpyonMarx]

It's the Proppet show!!

[FADE IN. The screen is totally white. Brilliant white. There is no sound. White, and silence. After around thirty seconds, a 'thing' appears on screen. It resembles a muppet, wearing a mask. It comes to the middle of the screen, and looks straight at the camera. Shuddering slightly, it begins to speak]

Muppet: I... want to hurt people...I'm good... at hurting people... I... can't wrestle... BUT I CAN HURT!! I AM THE GREETEST...

[Someone whispers off-screen]

Muppet: huh? GREATEST!! I ARE THE GREATEST!! I CAN HURT PEOPLE LIKE NO-ONE ELSE!!! I AM PROPPET!!

[As he says "Proppet", he lifts one arm up, and his eyes start to flash alternately red, green, blue and white through the mask]

Proppet: PROPPET KNOWS WHAT PROPPET CAN DO!! YOU ALL KNOW WHAT PROPPET CAN DO!! IF YOU DON'T CARE THEN PROPPET HURT YOU!! PROPPET ARE THE GREATEST!!! THE GRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETTTTTTTTTTEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!

[It's time to end this scene. A Monty Python-esque foot comes down and squashes our poor little Proppet, leaving his final word, greetest, trailing on the wind as the screen fades to black. It doesn't stay black though - the camera starts to zoom out, before panning round to show a man who, by his own definition, is quite simply more entertaining than you are. You know who he is, because he says you know who he is. His ego is so large it has it's own taxation system - Mr Entertainment!!]

ME: Poor Proppet. He never learns. He comes out, week after week, claiming to be some kinda badass, claiming he cadeiver a pain like only he can, but the only pain he gives anyone is by appearing on the screen and spouting the same crass garbage everyone from Rabore and Boozy Boris ta MWG. I hope Proppet learns some new tricks soon. He's as boring as havin' ta sit through a Promo.

Gods, was that guy's spot borin' or what? And how unoriginal was everything he said? Judges?

[Piped in through some unseen speakers, the judges answer]

Judges: GUILTY!!

ME: Just what I thought. He's guilty as charged. Guilty of bein' borin', guilty of gimmick infringement from the garbage-scene in Japan, and guilty of just being inferior in the ring to ME!

Mr Entertainment.

Now, I could go on and on and on about how much pain I can produce... but then I'd be as generic as Proppet. I could go on about how I'm the greatest... but fans of NEW already know how great I am. I could always tell ya'll how entertainin' I am... and I think I will, 'cause me on screen means ratings fer TEAM. And bigger wage-slips fer guys like Promo.

Ya see, Boringo... there isn't a man, woman or child, animal vegetable or mineral in this business more entertainin' than I am. Inside the ring an' out, I deliver. The brass at NEW ask me ta carry a guy, I carry his ass to the best match he'll ever have. If I think the fans'll have more fun if I lose, I'll let the guy pin me. Because winning and losing ain't important ta me - I'm here in TEAM, in this tournament, ta make sure guys like you get some decent pay. The brass know what I deliver in fan stats - ratings spikes, sales spikes, and an army of accountant's needed ta deal with all the new pretty green guys like you, Boringo, get paid from. I entertain the masses like only someone who cares about the business and his fellow wrestlers can. I don't go outta my way ta hurt them - because if I did, there'd only be me on most shows, and, as great as I am, not even I can carry the whole show on my own week in and week out.

So, Boringo, what's the plan fer our first round match?

You show up, bring whatever ya want, and at the end of tha day, I'll carry ya scrawny generic ass to the one match that twenty years from now people will remember you bein' in. If you're a good little Boringo I might even let ya get ome offence in. Because, win or lose, it's all about ME!

Mr Entertainment.

[FADE OUT]

 

[EpyonMarx]

Re: It's the Proppet show!!

*bump* damned character limit and non-updating board...

 

[Promo]

(FADEIN to Promo standing in front of a TEAM logo with his likeness on it.)

PROMO: Should I have expected anything less?

Should I have expected someone who believes that they are such a great entertainer, to deliver something like that?

Of course I should have.

You see, when you have nothing else to go on, and believe me, you have nothing else to go on, you resort to whatever little gimmicky **** that you can pull out of your ass.

Mr. Entertainment with his little puppets, putting on a damned show for everyone to see. Well, your little skit there didn't hold a candle to Roderick McRatrick calling me a Power Ranger. It doesn't hold a damned thing to anyone who's ever said that I have a Promozord.

So, in other words, why don't you actually address me you stupid SOB?

Instead of putting words in my mouth like you actually know who in the hell I am, why don't you act like you've spent more than two minutes getting yourself prepared for this tournament?

I'll tell you why.

Because you rely solely on thinking that you're the grandest thing to ever prance his ass down the aisle and climb into a wrestling ring. That's why.

You're a dime a dozen. When you're gone, there will be another Mr. So-And-So ready to take your place. Hell, we've seen them all Mr. Incredible, Mr. Amazing, Mr. Entertainment, Mr. Outstanding, and the list goes on and on.

So, take solice that you and your puppet might someday make something of yourself with your "Entertainment" schtick in NEW. But for right now, worry while you sleep at night, knowing that in a few days, you'll find yourself in the ring, looking across at this mask, asking yourself if you're really ready for this.

I don't think you are, kid. I really don't.

Because for all of your act, I can sense the fear inside you. It's growing, consuming you minute by minute. And eventually, it will overcome you, and you will find yourself having second thoughts. It might happen when you're lacing up your boots in the back. It might happen on your way to the ring. Or it might happen when I crack you open with a Singapore Cane. But it will happen.

And one last thing before I go, if you want to say something then say it right.

In the end, it's not about winning or losing.....it's all about the PROMO!

(FADEOUT)

 

[EpyonMarx]

Proppets, Promos, Tygers... ENTERTAINMENT!!

[FADE IN. A single word fades onto the blank screen, followed closely by a few more. It stays blurred for a few moments before dissolving into plain sight]

Originality - A quality given to ideas expressed as unique, novel or different from any other previously recognized ideas of a similar nature.

[The sight lingers a few moments, before a voice and drumsticks count us in]

One two

[As the music kicks in, the screen bursts in flames, as a studio audience is heard cheering. A group of aging musicians is playing on a small stage, whilst a larger stage has a sofa and desk on it, made to look like a typical late-night talk show. The band keeps playing, with the lyrics appearing on screen for everyone’s enjoyment]

There’s a man over there with a vacant stare
There’s a kid at the front who just don’t care
The band are ready to take the stage
The lights are dimmed, the can’t stop howling in rage.

I’m the rock ‘n’ rolling man
I’m a rock ‘n’ rolling man

Now I’m barely alive on the dressing floor
There’s a thousand girls outside the lockerroom door
The place is packed and the voices unite
There’s just one thing they want to hear tonight

I’m the rock ‘n’ rolling man
I’m the rock ‘n’ rolling man
I’m a rock ‘n’ rolling man
I’m the rock ‘n’ rolling man

Now there’s a kid over there with a vacant stare
There’s a man at the front who just don’t care
There’s a girl in the corner who knows what she wants
She wants the man that’s standing up there

I’m the rock ‘n’ rolling man
I’m a rock ‘n’ rolling man
That’s what I am
A rockin’ man

I’m the rock ‘n’ rolling man
I’m a rock ‘n’ rolling man
That’s what I am
The rockin’ man

[As the band finishes, the audience cheer. After a few seconds, the band start to play another song - a cover of The Jam’s “That’s Entertainment’, as, bursting through a paper circle, comes the host. The man of the hour, the ONLY one you need for the most entertaining night of your life - Mr Entertainment. He stands, dressed in a leather jacket and stone-washed jeans, with his arms raised, saluting the crowd, before grabbing a microphone off the desk, and walking to the front of the stage]

ME: You’re a great audience, ya know that?

[Cheap pop]

ME: And give it up for the Tygers of Pan Tang there!!

[The camera pans round to show the aging rockers - British metal fans from the eighties might just recognise them as the once mighty Tygers of Pan Tang]

ME: And now… give it up… for PROMO!!

[sfx: *chirpchirpchirpchirp*]

ME: Let’s try it again… PROMO!!

[sfx: *chirpchirpchirpchirp*]

ME: I see the crickets are in fine voice ain’t they? Then again, can’t say I blame ya’ll fer bein’ silent at the mention of his name. I mean, he’s so scary… so scary that he single handidly managed to get the NWL to close it’s doors just by having his name appear on the bill!! Yes, folks - John Doe wasn’t the cause of that one.

Promo is a man so scary, he has ta wear a mask so he doesn’t scare the poor kiddies. I mean, a man in a mask MUST be scary. He must be sooo good, he doesn’t wanna be mobbed walkin’ down tha street.

OK. Tell ya tha truth, he wears the mask because he’s embarrassed by how boring he is. And who wouldn’t be? I mean… W*ING went under years ago… and he’s STILL pretendin’ ta be a hardcore legend. When that there mask gets burned off his head a la Mr Pogo, THEN he can claim to be hard. Until then, he’s just hard ta watch.

[sfx: laughter]

ME: You all know it. He makes Sparky Marky sound intelligent, and ya’ll know how difficult THAT is. He didn’t realise that everything he said in his first little attempt at a skit was put across sooo much better by the scriptwriters of Proppet. Ta prove it, let’s watch.

[A screen slides into place over the entrance. Two images appear on screen - on the left is Promo, and on the right is Proppet. Throughout, only one plays, whilst the other is paused]

Promo: For those that do know me, then you know that you don't want to face me.

For those that think they don't give a damn about who I am, then you will be the ones to feel the pain and suffering that only I can deal out.

Proppet: PROPPET KNOWS WHAT PROPPET CAN DO!! YOU ALL KNOW WHAT PROPPET CAN DO!! IF YOU DON'T CARE THEN PROPPET HURT YOU!!

Promo: No, because when that bell rings, and I begin ripping you to shreds with anything that I can get my hands on, then you'll know that you were simply outclassed.

Proppet: huh? GREATEST!! I ARE THE GREATEST!! I CAN HURT PEOPLE LIKE NO-ONE ELSE!!! I AM PROPPET!!

Promo: Win, lose, or draw. It doesn't matter to me, just as long as I get to make someone bleed.

Proppet: I... want to hurt people...I'm good... at hurting people... I... can't wrestle... BUT I CAN HURT!! I AM THE GREETEST...

PROPPET ARE THE GREATEST!!! THE GRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE ETTTTTTTTTTEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT TTTTTTT!!!!

[SFX: *squelch*]

[The crowd howls in laughter as Mr Entertainment shakes his head, a smile on his face]

ME: See what I mean?

Crowd: YES!!!!

ME: Did the scriptwriters say ANYTHING that he didn’t say or allude to?

Crowd: NO!!!

ME: Is he an ignoramus?

Crowd: YES!!! IG-NOR-AM-US!! *clapclap clapclapclap* IG-NOR-AM-US!! *clapclap clapclapclap* IG-NOR-AM-US!! *clapclap clapclapclap* IG-NOR-AM-US!! *clapclap clapclapclap*

ME: Now, Boringo… ya hear that? That’s the sound of people who see through the littl’ act ya’ve got. They see through the tough man act, and they see why yer so embarrassed ya hide yer face. Not only are ya borin’ and unoriginal - yer dumb ta boot.

NOW… onta my next point. I’ll speak slow. I know it’s hard fer ya, Boringo, but remember the top a this segment, the definition? Originality? Why the hell should I wanna call you a Power Ranger when people’ve done it ta death? Hell, I coulda been real ‘original’ an’ called ya a Promobot, but that might upset Dan Ryan’s copyright team and Sebastian Dodd in particular.

Besides, the Power Rangers were so bad, they were funny ta laugh at, and so corny they kept kids entertained. You? I’ve seen more people entertained by a sloth. I’ve seen moths take more of a hammerin’ than you. I’ve seen brain-dead molluscs with more braincells than you. The hamster’s supposed ta be on the wheel, pal, not thinkin’ it’s a damned lemming.

The only thing I gotta fear about you is if your boringness is contagious. But with how quick I’m gonna pin ya, I don’t even have that ta worry about.

I could go on, but hey, the mere mention of your name makes people switch off. So, what’s say I leave ya’ll with one final thought?

TEAM needs ratings ta attract more guys. They need ta know they’ll have a steady pay-cheque that’s BIGGER than anything they can earn elsewhere. Rating’s go UP when people are entertained and get their friends ta tune in. Ratings go DOWN when you get guys like Boringo on-screen, because no-one’s entertained by posers like him. So, ta keep management happy, Boringo needs ta do everyone a couple a favours. First - shut up til ya get a personality transplant. Second, he needs ta turn up in Calgary, and like a nice little plank a wood, let me do the work. The moment he deviates from that, he’s gonna lose viewers. Lose viewers, lose pay. Lose pay, lose the nice little cess-pool ya’ve got. Third - when I’m done makin’ you look like you’ve got some talent, ya need to crawl back to tha lockeroom, pick up yer bags, and remember that was the most entertainin’ time you’ve had in your LIFE. Then you can go shoot yerself fer all I care, because we all know you ain’t getting another match like this one unless we meet again. And if we do the result’ll be tha same.

That trophy is gonna look sweet on my mantle place. Because it’s all about ME!!

Mr Entertainment.

Goodnight everybody!!

[The Tygers of Pan Tang strike up again, playing their classic “Hellbound” as we FADE OUT]

 

[EpyonMarx]

Re: Proppets, Promos, Tygers... ENTERTAINMENT!!

*bump* I'm beginning to see a pattern here...