Jack Harmen v. Magnus Destructo v. Aran Thompson

[fugginVOSS]

Intergalactic Championship Qualifying Match

Triangle rules

One competitor must remain on the outside and can only become an active participant by tag in or one of the active competitors exits the ring.

Jack Harmen
versus
Magnus Destructo
versus
Aran Thompson

Winner gets Intergalactic Championship shot in the main event against Intergalactic Champion Phil Atken​

RP Deadline: November 4th, 2012 @ Midnight Los Angeles time
RP Limit: 3 RPs maximum - no word limit!!

All roleplays to be posted in this thread!!

 

[North!]

Aran Thompson, fumbling with what seemed to be his own hand held camera, stammered and muttered to himself as if to talk himself through what he was trying to accomplish and the camera stopped shaking and Aran adjusted it before stepping back and staring for a second.

“There we go.” Aran said with confidence.

“Hey baby!? You got that print out of the thing the I.G.C guys sent me?!” Aran said looking to his right and waiting for a reaction.

There was some ruffling and Aran smiled, “Thank you babe.” Aran said as the arm of a female handed him a piece of paper and a very happy sounding voice chimed in. “Yer welcome, sugar.”

Aran looked at the camera and showed off the paper before clearing his throat.

“Dear, Aran Thompson. We would like to cordially invited to take place in the “Sorry You’re Not A Winner” tournament for the prestigious Intergalactic Championship! You can bring yourself and one guest to a self-paid trip to possible fame and fortune.”

Aran glanced up at the camera and smiled, “I seriously enjoyed the part about self-paid trip.”

Looking back at the paper Aran continued to read, “Now, for the bad news. Your match will see you against the legendary “high flyer” Jack Harmen and Magnus Destro in a Triangle Rules match up.”

Aran looked up at the paper with a grin on his face and a sudden change in demeanor.

“Bad news?” Aran questioned the camera.

“Bad new?!” Aran questioned again, but this time louder and with more excitement.

“Not for me it isn’t.” Again the demeanor changed.

“When I step into the Arena of Champions; the halls reverberate. The dastardly deeds of my past to the glorious return of my present. The fans cheer for me and chant my name…” Aran paused for just a moment.

“Re-Lent-Less….Re-Lent-Less….Re-Lent-Less…” Aran said quietly simulating the roaring of the crowd before stopping and looking to his right again and winking presumably to the woman behind the camera and then turning his attention back to the camera.

“They don’t chant it because I’m the jOlt Relentless Champion, they chant it because I’m good. I’m great. I’m one of the best. I walk in front of a camera, they cheer. I walk onto an entrance ramp, they cheer…”

“When I get into the ring, they explode.” Aran grinned but kept his focus on staring into the camera.

“Not because I did something good that they appreciated, because they’ve done the same thing since I the lights and the cameras have shined down on me and the world caught its first glimpse of me. There is something about the air when I’m out there to entertain…”

“It’s not electricity…the digital age took care of electricity in the air with anti-static wipes. It’s not the high a person gets from flying through the air, or the thrill a person gets for destroying something.”

Aran paused for a moment.

“Speaking of antiquated ages, they think putting me up against the apple that inspired Newton’s law of gravity is a threat? When Jack Harmen was still biting off more than that damned high flyer gimmick could chew, I was making waves in the Legacy of Champions TEAM division. Now, I’ll give the devil his due. Harmen is a man of legend, especially to someone like me who started out doing the Aerial dare devil style because of superstars like Harmen…”

“...Then there is this Magnus Destro. I will admit, I know absolutely nothing about you. Nothing.”

Aran looked to the side with a concerned look on his face.

“Hey babe?! You know anything about this Magnus Destro guy?” Aran asked the woman behind the camera.

After a slight pause she responded, “mmmm…nope!” she blurted out, creating Aran’s concerned demeanor to seemed to grow.

“Hmm…This is cause for concern..” Aran said looking to his left and back into the camera.

“That doesn’t mean that I’m going to come into this thing unprepared, because if I have to hunt down a catalogue of your matches and watch them to the lights dim and the music cues, than I will. You better bring you’re A game, Destro. You and Harmen. Because I ALWAYS…and I mean ALWAYS bring my “A” game.”

Aran smiled and ran his hand over his buzzed head.

“Whatever it is you both get out of this whole video, remember one thing. You are going up against a man who will LITERALLY grasp the ropes with his teeth just to break a hold. I am the most relentless superstar in the industry and the absolute future of the business, and the next step into me being an icon is me…”

“Aran Thompson….”

“Becoming the Intergalactic champion.”

Aran approached the camera and put his hands around it and looked deep into it and smiled.

“See ya soon.”

End of Transmission.

 

[North!]

The sound of a camera ruffling is heard and the view opens to Aran Thompson turning his camera on and stepping back, looking into it with what appears to be boredom. Aran Thompson, who has been preparing to take on Jack Harmen and Magnus Destructo in the IGC Tournament to face the current Intergalactic Champion, Phil Atkins had made his initial thoughts on his future triple threat match known.

“So…I’m bored.” Aran began.

“My girlfriend says, “Aran, you made your video so the world could learn about your upcoming IGC match. You’ll be fine.”…” Aran said, before shaking his head with a brief pause.

“I don’t feel fine.”

“I feel bored.”

Aran ran his hand over his closely buzzed head and momentarily sighed.

“You see, I thought: “Surely, I would at the very least get a response from my opponents and make this whole thing interesting. But no….It’s been what feels like an eternity and nothing….”

“Really, Jack? Really, Magnus?”

“Not only do I have this match coming up, I have to defend my Relentless Championship at the upcoming jOlt show and I’m putting more effort into this than both of you.”

Aran stood up and paced a bit to his left and right.

“You see. This isn’t just something I’m doing because it looks good on the résumé. I’m doing this because I want to make my company proud. I’m in a position that could create a buzz so intense you’d think your girl was smuggling a vibrator, and you two lazy good for nothings are just laying silent.”

“I can’t say you aren’t preparing because I don’t know.”

“I can’t say you haven’t been busy, because I don’t know.”

“I can’t say you aren’t going over your lines and rehearsing some Metalocolypse style - hope to go viral on the internet sensational promo that will put asses in seats and Aran Thompson in the losers column….”

Aran stopped and looked at the camera.

“Because I don’t know.”

“What I do know is this.”

“Since being accepted into the tournament, I’ve said from day one that I’m not going down without a fight and I’m not winning without a fight. I expect you to bring your ‘A’ game, and if you don’t. You’ll have to just sit idly by as I go one on one with the Intergalactic Champion and I go to war with him.”

The look on Aran’s face intensified but his voice seemed as calm as ever.

“Because I know Phil Atkins will be ready. I know he’ll be expecting an opponent like me to come after his championship, and I also know that the fans don’t want a washed up veteran or a Nathan Explosion rip off to be the Intergalactic Champion….”

“I’m in the business to please the fans. I don’t have a hidden agenda. I want the Intergalactic Championship around my waist and there isn’t a damned thing either of you men will be able to do about it because at the end of the day, I am the better athlete and I am more driven to succeed.”

Aran shook his head with a look of disgust on his face.

“I’ve got training to do. Keep on making this boring, guys…”

“…keep on making this boring…”

Aran walked off and the camera stopped with an image of his mantel where two Relentless Championships sat and there was an open place in between them.

 

[Ford]

"Wait, so... Aran's bored?"

(CUTTO: THE MOON. Yes. I said it. THE MOON.

Jack Harmen stands in the midst of a crater. He has a large box behind him that resembles that of a refrigerator He wears his colorful "Superfly Express" shirt while his NFW Everett strap holds up his jeans.

The earth shines brightly in the background, far off in the distance of space.)

JACK HARMEN: Cause SO AM I!

(Harmen kicks some moon rocks.)

JACK HARMEN: And YOU WOULDN'T LIKE ME WHEN I'M BORED!

(Mary-Lynn Mayweather appears out of the corner of the frame wearing a war bandana. She smiles, positioned in the side of the ring just like Dan Forden when he shouts "Toasty!" during a Mortal Kombat match.)

MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: JACK SMASH!

(And disappears as quick.)

JACK HARMEN: I haven't said anything cause no one's said anything of ANY merit. We've got Magnus doing his best impersonation of a mute tree, and Aran boasting about himself and his accomplishments in such a tranquil way I use it to put my kids to sleep at night.

(Jack RUSHES up to the camera and grabs it by it's lens.)

JACK HARMEN: You think bringing your "A" game is enough to HANDLE A LUNATIC?! You can be the greatest this sport has ever seen, but you can't prepare, for EVERYTHING.

(Harmen smiles. He lets go of the camera and paces back.)

JACK HARMEN: Because that's what I bring to the ring everytime I go out there. I bring spontaneity, I bring random chaos, I BRING...

(Harmen turns.)

JACK HARMEN: ANYTHING.

(Harmen snaps his fingers. The background of the scene changes to that of Tattooine.)

JACK HARMEN: One minute, I'm the guru shaman of wrestling, extolling virtues and wisdom to the huddled masses. The next? I'm using my Taliban Ali Baba sword to fight a horde of zombies! CAUSE WE'RE ALL INFECTED.

(Harmen reaches off screen and grabs his giant Ali Baba sword. He smiles, stroking the blade as he reminisses about receiving the blade as a gift from the actual Taliban during a tour of Iraq in the FWO.

In a burst of speed, Harmen charges toward the camera, sword held high. The cameraman stumbles backward, and falls to the ground.

The camera looks up at the Lunatic as Jack Harmen wields the sword high above his head.)

JACK HARMEN: The Intergalactic Championship has infected us all. EVERYONE wants it... Aliens, monsters, zombies, politicians.

(Harmen blinks, raising his hand and lowering his sword.)

JACK HARMEN: Wait. I think I repeated myself there. No matter. The worst of the WORST want to lay claim to the grand kingdom that is the GALAXY.

(Jack Harmen brings up his sword and holds it above the cameraman. With a QUICK thrust, the blade sends a dust cloud springing up from the "moon's" surface.)

JACK HARMEN: BUT I CLAIM THIS GALAXY FIRST!

(Harmen frowns.)

JACK HARMEN: Well, technically second...

(Harmen shakes his head.)

JACK HARMEN: BUT I'VE GOT A REALLY BIG SWORD!

(The cameraman quickly looks down to the blade, which has wedged itself inside a crater between the cameraman's legs. Harmen reaches out and grabs the tilt of the sword, lifting it out.)

JACK HARMEN: And it doesn't matter HOW relentless you are, when I slice you LIMB FROM LIMB!

(Mary-Lynn Mayweather pops out of the side of the frame, just like before. This time, she wields a gigantic flame thrower. She tosses her head back and gives the most AWKWARD evil laugh.)

MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: AH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!

(Mary-Lynn Mayweather turns on the flame thrower, filling the frame with fire.)

JACK HARMEN: WAIT! STOP! STOP-STOP!

(CUTTO: Wide shot. Jack Harmen is standing on a sound stage. Mary-Lynn Mayweather lowers her flame thrower, frowning.)

MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: What? Too evil?

JACK HARMEN: NO! The opposite! It was like a Care Bear trying to be menacing.

(Mary-Lynn's eyes widen.)

MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: Wait!

(Pause. She blinks.)

MARY-LYNN MAYWEATHER: There are bears who care?

(Harmen frowns. His eyes narrow and he grits his teeth. He turns away from Mary-Lynn Mayweather and walks back to his mark.)

JACK HARMEN: AGAIN! FROM THE TOP!

(The entire crew sighs. Harmen tosses his hands out to his side.)

JACK HARMEN: Do you WANT me to take away your coffee!?

(Harmen raises his hand.)

JACK HARMEN: Reset to one.

(CUTTO: Black. FADEIN: The earth, hovering in space. The camera cranes down to reveal JACK HARMEN, standing on the MOON.

Harmen steps forward, roaring.)

JACK HARMEN: Y'know FUCK IT! Aran Thompson thinks I'm too OLD for this shit?!

(Harmen smiles.)

JACK HARMEN: Good. He underestimates me. So much EASIER to kick his head clean off.

(HARMEN tosses his head back and uses his hands as a megaphone.)

JACK HARMEN: AAAAAALLLLLLLLLL ABOOOOOOOOAAAAAARD.... THE LETHAL LOCOMOTIVE~!

(Harmen lets out an Ozzy like cackle, caught in an extreme close up.)

JACK HARMEN: AH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HAH~! FINAL STOP?! PHIL ATKEN'S FACE!

(FREEZE FRAME IMAGE on Harmen's almost demented face.

GFX: Stamped on screen is the text from the following voice over.)

TONY DAVIS (V.O.): The proceeding message brought to you by the coalition for an Atkens Free America. EAT CARBS!

(A picture of Tony Davis with his mouthful of a sub sandwich spins into frame. Tony also has his left hand raised with a thumbs up. FADE OUT.)

 

[RStrawsma]

OOC: hi, everybody. i'm strawsma, and i have two sets of apologies for y'all tonight.

first of all... i'd like to apologize to my opponents for getting this up so late. this show had the unfortunate circumstance of going up around the same time i was needed to write the main event over in empire pro. if you knew me, and if you knew the main events i wrote over there... well, you might understand better. but anyway, i'm sorry for that.

secondly, I'd like to apologize to everybody... for the following...

(CUE UP: “Progenies of the Great Apocalypse” by Dimmu Borgir.)

(Our shot opens on an exterior view of the Keep of Eternal Darkness, a gruesome fortress of blackened stone nestled between the crags of a treacherous red mountain range beneath a skyscape of brewing stormclouds. In the distance, we can see forks of lightning flashing across the horizon, each one heralding a death knell of thunder.)

(We fade down to the front of the great castle, where a blood-soaked portcullis is rising up in front of us. As it clears our view, a frail human figure holding up a torch emerges from the murk within. Greeting the audience is a man covered head to toe in filth, who looks like he could be more gremlin than man. His smile is lined with nasty, green teeth.)

Dulak the Defiler
Welcome... the Baron has been waiting!

(He bends his finger a couple times to cue the cameraman to follow him, and we find ourselves going into the dreaded keep... the ominous sound of the iron gate coming to a close behind us. The camera takes in the environment as it steps into the cavernous and dimly lit great hall. One wall is lined with portraits of previous Barons of Destructo, each one distinguished by a different hairstyle or type of beard, but all bearing the same snarling face painted in demonic patterns in black and white. Along the other wall, innocent victims of the Dreaded Devourer have been strung up by chains and hooks. Those that still live meekly call out for help. As we pass by an Iron Maiden, we can hear somebody still alive pounding from inside.)

(The camera’s attention is drawn away from these horrors as it approaches a massive set of double doors leading into the heart of the keep. From the other side, we can hear heavy and bestial repetitions of breath.)

“HHHHHHHHH...”

“RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH!!!!”

“HHHHHHHHH...”

“BBRRRRRAAAAAAARRRRGGHHHHH!!!!!”

(The doors slowly part open, and immediately we see a hulking beast of a man lying on his back on a bed of nails... bench pressing a bar that sports two ridiculously huge spikey balls on either end. Every time he presses the bar, he lets out an animal roar that sets our blood cold.)

Magnus Destructo
HHHHHHHHH...

RRRRRRRAAAAAAAARRRGGHHH!!!!

HHHHHHHHH...

WWWWRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAGGHHHH!!!!

DULAK, YOU WORTHLESS SACK OF MAGGOT PISS... GET THE FUCK OVER HERE AND SPOT ME!!

Dulak the Defiler
ULP!! Forgive me, master! I shall assist you at once!

(In a manner similar to a rodent, the doorman drops his torch in a panic and scurries over to the head of the bench. As he gets there, Magnus throws the bar into the air with a forceful toss, belting out a raspy bark of triumph as he does so. Foolishly, Dulak tries to catch it, and the excessive weight instead comes down on his ribs and pins him to the floor.)

Magnus Destructo
HA HA-HA-HAW HAAWWW!!!

(The Dreaded Devourer comes up to his feet, standing at his full towering height and greeting the camera with a bloodthirsty snarl. Despite being spattered with the blood and gore of his many victims, the sturdiness of his monstrous physique shows that he’s in pretty good shape.)

Magnus Destructo
INTERGALACTIC CHAMPIONSHIP!! THE BARON OF BRUTALITY IS COUNTING DOWN THE DAYS TO “SORRY YOUR NOT A WINNER!!”

BUT I WON’T BE SORRY FOR THE UNGODLY THINGS I’M GOING TO DO TO THE PATHETIC AND PISS-REEKING MEAT-BAGS THAT STAND IN MY BLOODY PATH TO THE INTERGALACTIC CHAMPION!! MAGNUS DESTRUCTO APOLOGIZES FOR ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!!

(Destructo turns from the camera to go to his skeletal-motif throne.)

Magnus Destructo
DULAK!! BRING ME A REFRESHMENT!!

(Having pulled himself out from under the Baron’s weight-lifting equipment, the defiled one pops back into the frame to hand over a goblet made out of a skull. Destructo rudely snatches it into his grasp and takes a gluttonous swig of a thick, red liquid. With his thirst slaked and streaks of red now coursing down his blackened lips, he points to the wall across his throne room.)

Magnus Destructo
NOW... BRING UP MY OPPONENTS ON THE DESTRUCTO-TRON!!

(Upon command, Dulak pulls up a remote and pushes a button, dimming the lights in the throne room and causing a large screen made of human flesh to drop down from the ceiling and take a position against the opposite wall where the Baron of Brutality can clearly see. A projector switches on, and we get footage of Jack Harmen on the moon.)

Magnus Destructo
WHO THE HELL IS THIS GREEN-HAIRED GOOCH LICKER?!

Dulak the Defiler
That would be Jack Harmen... formerly known as High Flyer.

Magnus Destructo
HIS NAME COULD BE JACK-OFF HYMEN, FOR ALL I CARE... WHAT I MEAN IS, WHAT PURPOSE COULD YOU POSSIBLY HAVE IN SHOWING ME THIS GANGLY-ARMED CLOWN!?

Dulak the Defiler
Um... because you told me to bring up your opponents on the screen?

Magnus Destructo
YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT THIS FLACK-JAWED SAGGOT IS WHAT I’M UP AGAINST?! HE LOOKS LIKE IGGY POP ON CRACK!! WHAT KIND OF SPORT IS THIS WHERE THEY LET FREAKS LIKE THAT WALK IN OFF THE STREET?!

(Wholly aware that of all freaks to walk off the street, Magnus Destructo is by far the freakiest, Dulak rolls his eyes.)

Dulak the Defiler
I’m afraid I must agree, sire... a wholly ridiculous man. However, would it not be wise to not simply take him at face value? This Jack Harmen, after all, made it to the final round of the Ultratitle Tournament. Perhaps you should not be so quick to judge a man with proven experience?

(Looking insulted for having his logic questioned, Magnus Destructo lobs his skull goblet HARD at the head of his humble servant. Dulak drops to the floor and Destructo snarls over him.)

Magnus Destructo
DULAK, YOU FUCKING IMBECILE!! THE DREADED DEVOURER WILL JUDGE AS FAST OR AS SLOW AS HE DAMN WELL PLEASES!!

DO YOU THINK I GIVE TWO GOAT SHITS ABOUT HOW FAR HE GOT IN SOME TOURNAMENT THAT I WASN’T A PART OF?! WE ALL KNOW THAT IF THE BARON OF BRUTALITY HAD BEEN GIVEN AN INVITATION TO THAT PUSSY PARTY CALLED THE ULTRATITLE, HE WOULD HAVE INEVITABLY CONQUERED ALL, AND LEFT THE FLAYED CORPSES OF THE FALLEN STRUNG UP ON THE RINGPOSTS FOR ALL THE WRETCHED, FAT WORMS IN THOSE SEATS TO LOOK UPON AND SEE THE MIGHTY WORKS OF DESTRUCTO!!

BUT I’M NOT INTERESTED IN SOME ULTRATITLE... SOME CHEAP PRIZE MADE TO LOOK LIKE THE GREATEST WAR TROPHY IN THE HISTORY OF MORTAL COMBAT!! THE DREADED DEVOURER HAS HIS PREDATORY SIGHTS SET ON CONQUERING ALL OF THE KNOWN GALAXY... AND HE WILL FEED HIS HUNGER ON ALL THOSE WHO OPPOSE HIS GORY WRATH!!

NOW GET THIS FRAGGLE-LOOKING MOTHERFUCKER OFF MY SCREEN BEFORE I POP OPEN YOUR SKULL AND EAT YOUR BRAINS WITH A RED-HOT MELON-SCOOPER!

(Gulping in complete fealty, Dulak gets back up to his feet, rubbing the lump on his head, and he punches another button on the remote and brings up a highlight reel of Aran Thompson.)

Dulak the Defiler
The next man you see here is your other opponent, Aran Thompson, known also as “Mr. Relentless”... a distinction earned by being the Relentless Champion of the jOlt Wrestling promotion.

Magnus Destructo
“RELENTLESS?!” HA!! I’D LOVE TO SEE HOW THIS SCRAWNY MORSEL WITHSTANDS AN AVATAR OF PURE, RELENTLESS DESTRUCTION AND CARNAGE!! IS HE JUST CONSTIPATED, OR IS THAT STUPID, EMPTY-ASS LOOK ON HIS FACE JUST THE WAY HE LOOKS ALL THE TIME?!

Dulak the Defiler
I’m not sure, though I may assume that the expression on his face has more to do with the fact that he’s apparently bored... because neither you nor Harmen released a promotional video in the past week.

Magnus Destructo
…WHAT?!

Dulak the Defiler
He also seems to think you’re a Nathan Explosion rip-off...

Magnus Destructo
HHHHRRRRGGRRRAAAAHHHHH!!!

(Lunging to his feet like an enraged beast, Destructo unleashes his wrath in the form of a stiff boot to Dulak’s chest, sending the meager servant sprawling out of the frame. Magnus then approaches the camera, looming over it and growling like a predator ready to go in for the kill.)

Magnus Destructo
“BORED!?”

“RIP-OFF?!”

LET ME ASK YOU THIS, ARAN THOMPSON... HOW BORED ARE YOU GOING TO BE WHEN I RIP OFF YOUR FUCKING HEAD AND SHOW YOU WHAT IT’S LIKE TO SEE MY MAMMOTH FOOT OBLITERATING YOUR WEAK ASS!?!

ARE YOU BORED, ARAN?! IS LIFE JUST TOO DREARY IF SOMEBODY DOESN’T GIVE YOU THE ATTENTION YOU NEED!? STOP BEING SUCH A FUCKING IDIOT PUSSY!! IF YOU’VE GOT NOTHING BETTER TO DO, THEN GET A FUCKING HOBBY... OR BETTER YET, STOP JACKING OFF IN FRONT OF THE MIRROR AND GET A FUCKING GIRLFRIEND TO OCCUPY YOUR TIME!!

DO YOU THINK I’M HERE TO ENTERTAIN YOU, YOU STUPID MAGGOT TWAT?! DO YOU THINK I SIGNED UP FOR THIS SO I CAN FEED YOUR PRECIOUS EGO?! THINK AGAIN, YOU SCROTAL PUSS-BAG!! THE ONLY THING I’M HERE FOR IS TO KILL YOU, KILL HARMEN, KILL THE ATKINS DIET FUCKER, AND CLAIM THIS GALAXY FOR MYSELF!!

YOU KNOW WHAT THOUGH, ARAN!? I DON’T GIVE A FUCK IF A BORE YOU... BECAUSE YOU BORE THE SHIT OUT OF ME, JUST LISTENING TO YOU TALK!!

LOOK AT YOURSELF, BITCH!! YOU CALL ME A RIP-OFF, AND YET YOU’RE A RIP-OFF OF EVERY OTHER GENERIC ASS-CLOWN IN SPANDEX TIGHTS!! GENERIC IMAGE, GENERIC CLAIMS OF GREATNESS, GENERIC NICKNAME... AND YOU THINK PEOPLE WANT A FUCKING RETARDED SHEEP LIKE YOU TO RULE THIS GREAT GALAXY?!

(He throws his head back and laughs in a manner that could be considered generic for a Saturday morning cartoon supervillain. But, you know... one of the badass ones.)

Magnus Destructo
HAHAHAHA-HAW-HAW-HAWWW!!! A FUCKING ATTENTION-DEFICIT ASSWIPE LIKE YOU WOULDN’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH SUCH POWER!! YOU’D JUST TREAT IT LIKE SOME GENERIC TITLE TO PUT AROUND YOUR WAIST, AND YOU’D START CALLING YOURSELF SOMETHING JUST AS MORONIC AS WHAT YOU CALL YOURSELF NOW, LIKE “MR. GALAXY”!!

FRANKLY, I’VE GOT BETTER THINGS DO TO THAN TO WASTE AN ENTIRE WEEK GETTING INTO A POINTLESS PRICK-MEASURING CONTEST OF WORDS WITH A SELF-ABSORBED WORM LIKE YOU!! THE BARON OF BRUTALITY DOESN’T SPEAK WHEN YOU WANT HIM TO!! HE SPEAKS ONLY WHEN THE ROAR OF THE BLOODTHIRSTY BEAST NEEDS TO BE HEARD... RIGHT BEFORE THE HUNT!!

AND LAST I CHECKED, THAT’S RIGHT WHERE WE ARE!! DULAK... REMIND AGAIN WHEN THE PROMO DEADLINE IS?

(Slightly behind him, Dulak drags himself to his feet. He’s now rubbing his chest, and his voice sounds very pained... but he nevertheless fulfills his master’s request.)

Dulak the Defiler
Hrrghh... if I recall correctly, it was November the Fourth, great master...

Magnus Destructo
THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT... AND CAN YOU REMIND ME AGAIN WHAT DAY IT IS?

Dulak the Defiler
...the day is November the Fourth, master.

(Magnus Destructo’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head as if he were having an explosive seizure. This is apparently how he relates to his audience in a sarcastic manner.)

Magnus Destructo
WELL HOLY FUCKING SHIT, DOOD, LOOKS LIKE I’M RIGHT ON SCHEDULE!!

I MEAN... DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MIND-NUMBINGLY HARD IT IS TO RULE OVER AN ENTIRE FUCKING BARONY?! LET ALONE PREPARING THE TASK OF EXPANDING MY DOMAIN OUT TO THE FAR REACHES OF THE COSMOS?! FOR FUCK’S SAKE, EVERY FREE MINUTE I GET, I FIND MYSELF RIPPING THE SKIN OFF SOME STUPID SERFS, REMINDING THE MORONS AROUND HERE JUST WHY I’M FUCKING IN CHARGE!! I’M SO BUSY WITH MASS MUTILATIONS AND RITUAL EXECUTIONS, I HARDLY HAVE TIME TO GIVE YOU ANY MORE REASON TO SIT THERE AND TALK ABOUT HOW AWESOME YOU ARE!!

I RUN SHIT AROUND HERE BY A TIGHT SCHEDULE!! I DON’T HAVE TIME TO BE ATTENDING TO EVERY DUMBASS CAMERA CREW THAT ENTERS THESE DREADED HALLS, NOR DO I HAVE TIME TO SCRAPE THEIR EVISCERATED CORPSES OFF THE BED OF NAILS I LEFT THEM TO DIE ON!!

JUST BECAUSE YOU’RE TOO STUPID TO KNOW WHAT GOES ON WITHIN THESE INFERNAL WALLS, IT DOESN’T MEAN I’M NOT PREPARING FOR MY GLORIOUS CONQUEST OF PHIL ATKEN AND THE INTERGALACTIC CHAMPIONSHIP... NOR DOES IT MEAN I’M NOT EVERY BIT AS CAPABLE OF RAMMING MY FIST THROUGH YOUR PAPER THIN CHEST AND CRUSHING YOUR PATHETIC HEART IN MY BLACKENED CLUTCH!!

AND AT “SORRY, YOU’RE NOT A WINNER”... IF YOU DON’T TAKE A FUCKING CLUE AND RUN LIKE THE WEAK AND PUNY PIECE OF FILTH YOU ARE, I MAY JUST DO THAT... OR MUCH WORSE!! IN THE END, YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO MAKE THE SAME CHOICE AS EVERY OTHER MAN IN THIS GALAXY...

EITHER KNEEL BEFORE THE BARON OF BRUTALITY...

...OR BE DEVOURED!!!

(Magnus Destructo lets out another booming peal of nefarious laughter, as thunder and lighting boom in the skies overhead. The cameraman quickly begins making his exit, running out the door and back through the hall or horrors, all the while the haunting voice of the Baron of Brutality echoes off the blackened walls.)