[ORLANDO] (2) Chip Friendly vs. (7) Foster Nackedy

[TH]

Second round match held the Coleman Coliseum on Alabama's campus in Tuscaloosa, AL. One fall to a finish, no time limit.

No RP limit, all regular RP rules apply, deadline is Sunday, April 6 at 11:59:59 PM EDT, give or take a second.

 

[Nate]

“Hey, look, it’s an elaborate reenactment of a silly cliché designed to distract from my obvious lack of preparation!”
<o></o>
For today’s episode, folks, Foster Nackedy is…um…suspended in air, it appears. Actually, he’s not really hanging up there, but he’s sitting on something. As he moves backwards to adjust himself, his supporting material is revealed to have a large sign on it:
<o></o>
SEAT OF MY PANTS
<o></o>
“Hi, Chip Friendly. This is my nod towards my complete ignorance towards you at all. I know that you have a connection to Lindsay Troy, I know that you use ‘your true best friend’ as a way to be ironically condescending, and I know that you’ve done enough somewhere for someone to see you worthy of a two seed. Other than that? Bupkus.
<o></o>
“So this is me, flying by the seat of my pants. Going into a fight blind. Fighting someone I know nothing about.”
<o></o>
Still hung in air, Foster spreads his arms and makes a “Whoosh” sound before dropping his smile.
<o></o>
“And that’s why you’re going to help me, Chip.
<o></o>
“I asked Matthew Fury desperately to show me something, but he didn’t. He didn’t show me anything on video, and he certainly never showed me anything in the ring. It wasn’t a hard match, and it got the competitive juices flowing through me again, but the match left part of me disappointed. There’s a mystery about Matthew Fury that I will never uncover.
<o></o>
“In addition, I didn’t know how to approach him when we fought: if he was going to be a young, determined, go-getter who had the crowd behind him, or if he was going to be some cocky douchefag who talked a lot of trash he couldn’t hope to back up. And because I never got much from him, I never got my answer.
<o></o>
“It is mandatory that you give me an answer, Chip.”
<o></o>
He leans to the side, tilting the platform a little.
<o></o>
“Not just so I have more preparation going into the match, but because I’m genuinely interested. What’s your favorite color? Do you have a dog? If so, is it a cute dog like a Shih Tzu, or a mean dog like a Chow? I really want to know all about Chip Friendly.
<o></o>
“Honestly, I’m just looking for something I haven’t gotten in awhile. Since I made this choice to pursue wrestling glory, putting aside my personal life to get what I have loved since I was a teenager, I’ve had no connections. I’m not ashamed to reveal that my phone hasn’t blown up since this tournament. I’ve pretty much gone to the gym, gone home to watch my old wrestling tapes, and gone to bed. I just want something more in this game than training, meeting an unknown opponent, and smashing them to dust.”
<o></o>
He scoots forward and drops off of the platform, landing on his feet in front of the camera. He brushes his hands on his pants and sighs.
<o></o>
“So I’m asking you, Chip: please give me something to work with. Even if it’s nothing more than a few minutes of trash to prove you as a stupid Mongoloid or something. It’ll help me a lot, and will make my decision to compete in this tournament that much more justified. Until then, I guess I’ll keep flying by the seat of my pants. It’s worked well so far, at least.[FONT=&quot]”[/FONT]
<o></o>
He shrugs as we fade.

 

[MrWest]

(Chip Friendly's locker room: Chip Friendly is there,)

CHIP: You know, THIS is exactly why I came to TEAM.

This.

Right here.

(Chip pulls a yummy looking canoli out of his locker room and takes a bite.)

And what they said was true. Jess Chapel does have the best complimentary refreshment platters in the entire business.

(Chip puts the canoli back in his locker)

Plus I get to test myself against my mettle against some of the most accomplished competitors in all of wrestling.

Tough, rugged, mountainmen, like Lindsay Troy (psst, liked you better without the mustache, Lindz.)....slippery, stinky sneaks, like my opponent last week...absolute legends in their own domains like - uh -

(Chip checks a jotted note on the palm of his hand.)

...Foster...

(He checks again just to make sure)

...Nackedy?

Well okay then.

So let me tell you Foster, while you may not know a whole lot about me. I - The Chipster - have been waiting my whole career to step into the ring against you. Or at least someone similar to you. Or someone similar to what I image you possibly could be like.

Minutia aside though, I just know that you will probably give me the stiffest challenge of anyone I face this tournament on my way to winning whichever Chad Trophey it is that TEAM is handing out this week.

I mean I will consider myself the luckiest man on the face of this earth if I somehow manage to avoid that completely devesating (undoubtedly) finisher of yours (whatever you call it). Heck, dare I even call it deadly. I mean, I guy like probably has killed at least three or four of your opponents in the ring during the course of you great and wonderous career, right?

Right?

But you certainly wouldn't do that to Your New Best Friend, Certainly not.

Not to the Chipmeister.

Heck, after I just manage to squeak out the3 narrowest of vistories against you, Foster; what I would like to do is take you out for a celebratory drink to honor the 5 Star epic we will no doubt produce.

Heck, forget just drinks. Your New Best Friend would be happy to spot you for a burger too (as I know that some of the feds that have sent folks here don't have the scratch to pony up a living per deium - no fault of there's to be sure.)

How's TGI Fridays sound?

(They have those in Alabama right? Or maybe you know a place where they serve a Zagut recommended corn pone?)

Either way...

(...checing his hand again...)

...Foster, trust me when I say that you are probably the toughest opponent I will face this weekend (not counting the blind, deaf girl I challenged to that Wii bowling tournament or the three-legged puppy who is coming over for a rousing game of Scrabble this afternoon.) And you should be proud of that fact, because - for a guy like you - just getting to hang out and perhaps have his photo taken with a guy like me, could well be the highlight of you (likely) miserable life. Although you (and you momma) are deserved dang proud of what you've managed to achieve given the circumstances of you birth and upbringing. Heck man, I am proud of you and I don't even know you all that well.

So before you run off lift weights or watch tapes or sleep (my golly you live an exciting life there, huh?) let me do you the honor of asking the qustions that you were so kind to ask the chipper:

- Blue.

- Yes, I do.

- A beagle, His name is Henry and he is really very sweet - even if from time to time he can get a bit "licky".

Oh, and to answer that last question that you wanted to ask but quite get the courage to cough out.

Yes, Foster Nackedy. I absolutely will remember you and this match we are about to have when I am giving my WOW Hall of Fame speach all those years from now.

Yes, it's true, even years after the rest of the wrestling world has forgotten that you ever existed, Your True Best Friend will always remember the brief shining moment that he got to spend in the ring with you on his way to winning the Biggest Tournament I will enter this Spring (probably).

Always.

Promise.

 

[Nate]

“All right, almost…done…”
<o></o>
The camera fades into Foster Nackedy – at least, we think it’s Foster. We can’t truly tell, because the man we see has his back turned to the camera. Also, as little as TEAM cameras have been acquainted with the former NWC star, we are positive we’ve never seen him wearing a lab coat. Since this man most certainly is wearing a lab coat, we are somewhat thrown off.
<o></o>
Then he turns around, and we see that he is truly Foster Nackedy. As he steps to the side, we see that he was standing in front of what can only be described as a countertop filled with scientific devices: beakers, test tubes, and bubbling solutions are all present on the table. At the end of the table is a large, Atari Computer attached to a ten-year-old HP printer. The goateed grappler smiles and extends his arms.
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“Hello, my new true best friend. Sorry to keep you waiting, Chip, I’ve just been setting up my little science experiment here. Since you did your best to pretend you knew something about me, you might have discovered that in addition to wrestling, I am an accomplished alchemist, and my works have gotten me on the Honorable Mentions list in the running for the Nobel Prize.”
<o></o>
At the bottom of the screen, flashing text emerges:
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*THIS IS A LIE
<o></o>
“So I’m just starting another science experiment, and I think you’ll be pleased to hear that you are at the center of this little venture. I have taken certain things that I have deduced from your video: not just the answers to the questions I asked – they were charming, by the way – but also the things you said that revealed to me your true nature as well. With my new machine that I have invented, I will enter these elements of your personality and it will show me exactly what type of person I am set to face in Alabama.”
<o></o>
Foster turns to the table and sits at the chair in front of the computer, and the cameraman decides to move in to get a better angle of the Best GCW Wrestler to Not Wrestle a Match There (nickname in the works). Foster pulls up a program – the camera picks up the name as THE CHIP FRIENDLY PERSONALITY DECIPHERER and begins to type.
<o></o>
“First I’m going to put in the answers to my questions, because that is the easiest data to extrapolate. Let’s see…you said your favorite color is blue.”
<o></o>
Foster types “favorite color is blue” into the program and hits enter.
<o></o>
“And you said you have a dog named Henry who is a ‘licky beagle’ as you described it. Interesting.”
<o></o>
“Licky beagle” is entered into the program. Foster presses enter and then swirls around on the chair, facing the camera.
<o></o>
“That part was easy enough to take. Straight answers to straight questions. The rest of the data you gave me was a bit harder to uncover. See, you started off by putting on an air of friendliness – very original, of course, seeing that it matches your last name so nicely. Then you began to be slightly reductive – like I said before about your catchphrase, you are ironically condescending. Saying that you would be ‘the luckiest man on earth’ to avoid whatever finisher I may have classifies you as sarcastic – and witty. Oh so very, very witty.”
<o></o>
Once again, text flashes at the bottom of the screen:
<o></o>
*THIS IS A LIE
<o></o>
“There is other evidence to support this as well, but I don’t want to get overly scientific – plus, I’m sure you know what a pretentious, sarcastic person you truly are – so you won’t get overly offended when I put the next bit of info in the decipherer.”
<o></o>
Foster turns around and inserts “kind of a jackass, although he pretends not to be" into the program.
<o></o>
“There we go. There’s not much more to describe you, from what I gathered – honestly everything you said to me was a variant of that finisher line. Making fun of my uncluttered personal life – which doesn’t make a lot of sense if you think about it. For instance: if all I do is train and watch video tapes, meaning I’m determined, how is it going to put me at a disadvantage to someone who walks around eating canoli? There are others, but as I said, they are mostly the same. They were all backhanded statements not-so-cleverly disguised as overwhelming complements. Unless you were just giving me the same tripe over and over again in an attempt to show me that you’re downplaying the threat I present – which would be, in case you were wondering, a terrible, TERRIBLE mistake – ”

Once more, flashing text:
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*THIS IS NOT A LIE. IN FACT, IT IS THE DAMN TRUTH
<o></o>
“I can only assume that the reason you kept hiding behind your crafty sarcasm was because that’s all you know how to do. After all, the fourteen seconds we saw from you against the Trout didn’t show much variation. So in comes my last bit of evidence into the Chip Friendly Personality Decipherer, and then we’ll see the results.”
<o></o>
Foster inputs “hopelessly one-dimensional”, presses enter, and then clicks on a tab that says CALCULATE. As a loading screen flashes, Foster turns to the camera once again, taking off the lab coat.
<o></o>
“As you can see, this is the reason I wanted you to show me something. Not just to help me strategically, but because I am in desperate need of a challenge. Matthew Fury was not a challenge, and when the wrestling bug bit again I came back because I needed that. I didn’t come back just to face a bunch of people that barely were worth the warm-up sweat. I want to be tested. I want to have to pull the win out of seemingly nowhere. I want, after our match is months in the past, for people to talk about it and be like ‘that was such a closely contested match. It could’ve gone to either Chip or Foster.’
<o></o>
“I don’t want to squash you. I want to fight you. And that’s why I’m glad you gave me something to work with. Something that I could use as motivation, and some information on you I might not have had. So now I know when I enter the ring with…”
<o></o>
A loud BEEP emits from the computer and the old HP printer spits out a piece of paper. Foster grabs it, looks at it, and nods.
<o></o>
“Thought so. So now when I enter the ring with a Somewhat-Competent Douchebag like yourself, I know how to fight you, and how to make this match not just memorable to me, or you, but to the fans who watch and the other people invested in TEAM. You gave me something, and out of gratitude I will show you something in return.
<o></o>
“I will show you why your downplaying of my ability, my personal life, and everything about me was a mistake. I will show you why, even though you don’t know a thing about me, I have the ability to go straight to the end of this tournament. I will show you why you WILL end up regretting your decision to treat me like another step on the way. And I will show you the exit door in this tournament.”
<o></o>
Foster smiles as the camera fades.

 

[MrWest]

(Chip Friendly's locker room: Just Chip...and his locker...in a room.)

CHIP: Hey Foster. Can you guss what I think of guys that need to rely on things like special effect "science experiments" and clever props and subtitles to get their point across rather than putting their faith in just their own words and their own God given talents?

Can you guess what I think of people like that?

I think they are PRETTY DANG KEEN!

I mean when the way you got that computer to make that beeping sound while the printer was telling you I was somewhat competent - WOW. Now I know why the guys at the Wrestling Observer call you the man with the neatest cutesy computer vignettes in the business.

You mentor (who undoubted must be right up there with the guy that trait Abe "Screwball" Schwartz) must be just beaming with pride at you right now.

I mean, looking at what you just did right there in that "lab" makes me feel that I really should have used the Props Budget that Jess Chapel was so kind to bequeath us on something a bit more relevant than just tossing it away as a charitable donation to the help feed and cloth those unfortunate kids living at Tuscaloosa Mennonite Home for Poorly Clothed and Starving Orphans.

(And with that a host of small, skiinny, rag-clad childrem enter the room and swarm around their true best friend.)

CHIP: Or maybe not.

You see, Foster. Sometimes there is more to life than just calling people liars and trying to make them appear less that sincere for your own personal gain.

Sometimes there is a higher calling that drves men to be their best that has nothing to do with personal glory or trying to overcome you insecurities over the fact that GCW shut its doors before stooping to allow a guy like you to appear in their ring. (Which I hear actually had nothing to do with you in truth. It was just general burn out at the top. No, really. That's what I heard.)

You see, Mr. Nakedy, Chip Friendly does have Isuch a higher calling. I am NOT here for me. I am here to win this tounament for these kids. I am here to show tham that just because life dealt them a raw hand by birthing them as hopeless losers (not that there is anything wrong with that. Right, Foster?) That there are people out that that CAN actually acheive something with their lives.

My defeating you this week, I am giving these poor orphaned saps something to aspire too. Sure you and I know that they can never reach it. But they can still dream.

They can still dream.

So I ask you this, Foster. I make you this one request. And, as I do believe you to be deep down and good and honorable man, I have faith that you'll do your Best Friend this heart felt favor.

After I beat you this week, try to be a good sport and show a little dignity in how you accpt the defeat. Because in some ways I truly do believe that these dead end kids can learn more from a normal guy like you that they can from an unscalable champion like the Chipster.

And if you can do this for me, Fost. I will do you a great big favor in return.

As the ref is raising my hand, I promise you that the folks in the audience and all those watching on TV from the comfort of their living rooms will say to a person: "that was such a closely contested match. It could’ve gone to either Chip or Foster."

If you can keep you chin up for these kids, that's the very least I can do for you.

(Chip gestures to the orphans and they lift him up onto their little heaving shoulders where he sits on them like he was on a throne.)

CHIP: Oh...and Foster...congrats on that Nobel Prize Honorable Mention. It's nice that you'll have at least one something this week.

(Chip points at the door and the orphans carry him out of the locker room on their way down to the ring.)