PaulNJ21
I shunned a voodoo witch, decapitated a black cat
The RP/angle deadline is August 11th. Send in all angles to PaulNJ21@aol.com
Spirit of NGEN: Luster vs. McMillan vs. El Arco Iris
- Thread starter PaulNJ21
- Start date
Mister Dread
League Member
Freakshow
::FADEIN on the exterior of a squat brick building. Battered and worn through years of disuse, it is indistinguishable from any number of buildings awaiting the wrecking ball. A weather beaten marquee hangs there, bearing silent witness to the passing of the years. Emblazoned across it is the legend “Basham-Schultz Wrestling Academy”. Windows along the front are mostly gone, a few covered over with boards. It has the look of an old movie theater, and perhaps it once was. The ticket seller’s booth out front is plastered over with posters for local bands and wrestling shows, though most are faded, ripped, and on the better side of a decade old. We CUTTO the interior, focusing on a rickety, sagging wrestling ring under a faded banner bearing the name of the gym. This is the mildly unsavory haunt of “The Wolf” Chris McMillan. McMillan sits perched on the top turnbuckle of the ring, muttering and shaking his head::
THE WOLF: Why me? What did I do to deserve this? I missed out on my shot at the North American title, and as a reward … or perhaps punishment, I’ve been forced to wrestle in this triple-threat freakshow. I’m friggin’ ECSTATIC! Besides … ohhh, every other moment I’ve ever experienced, this is the greatest moment of my life. I’m so proud.
::McMillan hops down from the turnbuckle and paces around the ring::
THE WOLF: Once again I’m stepping into the ring with a man who’s signature move seems to have something to do with him rubbing his genitals all over his hapless opponents. Wonderful. Look, Luster, you’ve got no idea what real wrestling is all about. It doesn’t have anything to do with disco boots and an unhealthy fascination with your own groin. What it is about, what it’s all about, what I’m all about, is getting into the ring and causing you to hurt with a level of intensity you’ve never imagined. I mean, I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you do your pantented groin rubbing thing on me. It just ain’t gonna happen. You embody everything that’s wrong with this sport today, Luster. Wait, that sounds familiar. I believe I said it two weeks ago, right before I ground your ass into paste in the middle of the ring. I guess you developed a taste for it, since you’re coming back for more.
::McMillan stops to face the camera, grabbing hold of the ring ropes::
THE WOLF: Now, as far as my other opponent in this little fiasco, El Arco Iris, well … I don’t know you. As best as I can figure, you’re a mask-wearing retard who’s sole purpose is to take up space, act as a warm body when booking comes up short. That’s great. How’s that working out for you?
THE WOLF: Look, turds, here’s the bottom line. I’m a wrestler. That’s all. I’m also one of the finest wrestlers in this business today. You’re … well, I’m not entirely sure what you are, but you sure as hell aren’t competition. SO both of you bring yourselves to the ring, and I’ll humiliate you for a littl while. Eventually, mercifully, I’ll pin one of you and end your shame. At least for the rest of the night.
::FADE TO BLACK::
::FADEIN on the exterior of a squat brick building. Battered and worn through years of disuse, it is indistinguishable from any number of buildings awaiting the wrecking ball. A weather beaten marquee hangs there, bearing silent witness to the passing of the years. Emblazoned across it is the legend “Basham-Schultz Wrestling Academy”. Windows along the front are mostly gone, a few covered over with boards. It has the look of an old movie theater, and perhaps it once was. The ticket seller’s booth out front is plastered over with posters for local bands and wrestling shows, though most are faded, ripped, and on the better side of a decade old. We CUTTO the interior, focusing on a rickety, sagging wrestling ring under a faded banner bearing the name of the gym. This is the mildly unsavory haunt of “The Wolf” Chris McMillan. McMillan sits perched on the top turnbuckle of the ring, muttering and shaking his head::
THE WOLF: Why me? What did I do to deserve this? I missed out on my shot at the North American title, and as a reward … or perhaps punishment, I’ve been forced to wrestle in this triple-threat freakshow. I’m friggin’ ECSTATIC! Besides … ohhh, every other moment I’ve ever experienced, this is the greatest moment of my life. I’m so proud.
::McMillan hops down from the turnbuckle and paces around the ring::
THE WOLF: Once again I’m stepping into the ring with a man who’s signature move seems to have something to do with him rubbing his genitals all over his hapless opponents. Wonderful. Look, Luster, you’ve got no idea what real wrestling is all about. It doesn’t have anything to do with disco boots and an unhealthy fascination with your own groin. What it is about, what it’s all about, what I’m all about, is getting into the ring and causing you to hurt with a level of intensity you’ve never imagined. I mean, I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you do your pantented groin rubbing thing on me. It just ain’t gonna happen. You embody everything that’s wrong with this sport today, Luster. Wait, that sounds familiar. I believe I said it two weeks ago, right before I ground your ass into paste in the middle of the ring. I guess you developed a taste for it, since you’re coming back for more.
::McMillan stops to face the camera, grabbing hold of the ring ropes::
THE WOLF: Now, as far as my other opponent in this little fiasco, El Arco Iris, well … I don’t know you. As best as I can figure, you’re a mask-wearing retard who’s sole purpose is to take up space, act as a warm body when booking comes up short. That’s great. How’s that working out for you?
THE WOLF: Look, turds, here’s the bottom line. I’m a wrestler. That’s all. I’m also one of the finest wrestlers in this business today. You’re … well, I’m not entirely sure what you are, but you sure as hell aren’t competition. SO both of you bring yourselves to the ring, and I’ll humiliate you for a littl while. Eventually, mercifully, I’ll pin one of you and end your shame. At least for the rest of the night.
::FADE TO BLACK::
Diablo
League Member
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 155
- Points
- 0
- Age
- 35
- Location
- Miami, Florida
- Website
- www.lethalwrestling.com
RE: Freakshow
(FADEIN: We fade to a black screen. We are again bombarded with a flash of the whole spectrum of colors as "Yatta" by Happatai cues up. We then fade to El Arco Iris standing in front of a rainbow backdrop, sporting his mask, and a rainbow tie-dyed t-shirt and neon green courduroy shorts. He is sporting an impish grin.)
El Arco Iris: Many would think that El Arco Iris would be greatly saddened because of his defeat against a Señor Thunder, but as El Arco Iris has said, he does not dwell on the bad things, and only thinks about that which makes El Arco Iris happy. But, this defeat, as well as certain statements made by a Señor McMillan, has motivated El Arco Iris to re-affirm his purpose in the world.
(El Arco Iris strikes a dramatic pose as a bright spotlight shines on him to emulate a ray of sun.)
El Arco Iris: El Arco Iris was put on this Earth to combat the encroaching cloud of despair and bad feelings that seems to be overwhelming this fair planet of ours. El Arco iris walks the streets of many a city, filled with many faces, faces which El Arco Iris should have great big smiles on them. But El Arco Iris does not see smiles like my own, but rather El Arco Iris sees frowns, and expressions of sadness, anger, and many bad, bad things El Arco iris does not like to feel!
(The spotlight turns off and El Arco Iris assumes a relaxed position.)
El Arco Iris: Seeing other people sad makes El Arco iris sad, and El Arco Iris does not like being sad. It occurs to El Arco Iris that many people do not have reasons to be happy in their lives, and this is where El Arco Iris comes in. El Arco Iris brings a ray of sunshine, and bright colors, and fluffy kittens, and the coolest breeze of the finest Sunday afternoon into the lives of these sad people. It looks like some color will have to be shined opn more people in this match, because obviously, by the mere names of El Arco Iris' opponents, you can tell they are sad, angry men, who are trapped in a sphere of their own bad emotions, and are suffocated with a severe lack of glee. Well, maybe not Luster. Luster means shiny. El Arco iris likes shiny things, because they are all sparkly glittery, like the sun on the finest sunday afternoon. But this Señor McMillan, he calls himself The Wolf. This is very bad, because wolves are snarling, fierce animals with sharp, pointy teeth. El Arco iris does not like wolves. El Arco Iris likes fluffy puppies, and cute kittens, and soft quilted blankets and the picnic baskets atop that quilted blanket on the finest Sunday afternoon. It looks like El Arco Iris will have to defang this wolf if he is to fully appreciate life, and to break the sphere of sadness and anger that so holds him captive. Consider El Arco Iris the key to the lock on the door to a life that is full of wonder and laughing happy sunshine fun! Luster, perhaps if El Arco Iris has to smudge up your sparkly glitteriness as well, as much as it would make El Arco Iris sad because it is not shiny, it will make El Arco Iris happy, too, because he has shown you the path to the end of the rainbow. El Arco Iris' purpose is to be warm, and sunny, and happy. El Arco Iris' purpose is, and always shall be...
(Camera zooms in to El Arco Iris' face so we can clearly see his wide smile)
El Arco Iris: To put a SMIIIIILE on your face!
(FTB)
------------------------------
"I blow your mind. You just blow."
(FADEIN: We fade to a black screen. We are again bombarded with a flash of the whole spectrum of colors as "Yatta" by Happatai cues up. We then fade to El Arco Iris standing in front of a rainbow backdrop, sporting his mask, and a rainbow tie-dyed t-shirt and neon green courduroy shorts. He is sporting an impish grin.)
El Arco Iris: Many would think that El Arco Iris would be greatly saddened because of his defeat against a Señor Thunder, but as El Arco Iris has said, he does not dwell on the bad things, and only thinks about that which makes El Arco Iris happy. But, this defeat, as well as certain statements made by a Señor McMillan, has motivated El Arco Iris to re-affirm his purpose in the world.
(El Arco Iris strikes a dramatic pose as a bright spotlight shines on him to emulate a ray of sun.)
El Arco Iris: El Arco Iris was put on this Earth to combat the encroaching cloud of despair and bad feelings that seems to be overwhelming this fair planet of ours. El Arco iris walks the streets of many a city, filled with many faces, faces which El Arco Iris should have great big smiles on them. But El Arco Iris does not see smiles like my own, but rather El Arco Iris sees frowns, and expressions of sadness, anger, and many bad, bad things El Arco iris does not like to feel!
(The spotlight turns off and El Arco Iris assumes a relaxed position.)
El Arco Iris: Seeing other people sad makes El Arco iris sad, and El Arco Iris does not like being sad. It occurs to El Arco Iris that many people do not have reasons to be happy in their lives, and this is where El Arco Iris comes in. El Arco Iris brings a ray of sunshine, and bright colors, and fluffy kittens, and the coolest breeze of the finest Sunday afternoon into the lives of these sad people. It looks like some color will have to be shined opn more people in this match, because obviously, by the mere names of El Arco Iris' opponents, you can tell they are sad, angry men, who are trapped in a sphere of their own bad emotions, and are suffocated with a severe lack of glee. Well, maybe not Luster. Luster means shiny. El Arco iris likes shiny things, because they are all sparkly glittery, like the sun on the finest sunday afternoon. But this Señor McMillan, he calls himself The Wolf. This is very bad, because wolves are snarling, fierce animals with sharp, pointy teeth. El Arco iris does not like wolves. El Arco Iris likes fluffy puppies, and cute kittens, and soft quilted blankets and the picnic baskets atop that quilted blanket on the finest Sunday afternoon. It looks like El Arco Iris will have to defang this wolf if he is to fully appreciate life, and to break the sphere of sadness and anger that so holds him captive. Consider El Arco Iris the key to the lock on the door to a life that is full of wonder and laughing happy sunshine fun! Luster, perhaps if El Arco Iris has to smudge up your sparkly glitteriness as well, as much as it would make El Arco Iris sad because it is not shiny, it will make El Arco Iris happy, too, because he has shown you the path to the end of the rainbow. El Arco Iris' purpose is to be warm, and sunny, and happy. El Arco Iris' purpose is, and always shall be...
(Camera zooms in to El Arco Iris' face so we can clearly see his wide smile)
El Arco Iris: To put a SMIIIIILE on your face!
(FTB)
------------------------------
"I blow your mind. You just blow."
Mister Dread
League Member
Creepy
::FADEIN on the WFW banner backstage. “The Wolf” Chris McMillan stands there, attired as usual in jeans, harness boots, and a Chris Benoit “Toothless Aggression” t-shirt::
THE WOLF: Wow. I’m at a loss, here. I’ve stepped into the ring with some of the most depraved, violent, and twisted individuals ever to walk the face of the earth. Throughout the whole of my career, though, I’ve never had to wrestle a total lunatic. I’ve faced off against retards, self-mutilators, midgets, sociopaths, and even the Prince of Darkness himself, if you believe him. But never, NEVER, have I seen insanity the likes of which El Arco Iris brings to the ring.
THE WOLF: You’ve got me worried, Iris. What are you going to do, beat me to death with fluffy kittens and cuddly puppies? The thought, while admittedly amusing, is also terrifying in the extreme. Not to mention the fact that PETA would be all over your ass in the time it takes to sneeze, but that’s beyond the scope of the subject. No, what we’re talking about here is all-out lunacy. I’ve been accused once or twice of being not-quite-stable myself, and it’s probably true. But come on, man. What does it take to get someone commited these days? Obviously quite a bit more than it should, since you’re still walking the streets.
THE WOLF: The glint of madness in your eyes, the lunatic grin platered over your face … it makes me wonder if that’s the last thing some little kid sees as you lure them into the back of your rainbow-painted van with a piece if candy in one hand and a pair of handcuffs in the other.
THE WOLF: It’s safe to say that I’m fairl well horrified with the thought of stepping into the ring with you, El Arco Iris. Putting the entirely creepy Luster aside for the moment, I’m loathe to do this. I hate the thought of you touching me. You might pass along the crazy to me. So here’s what I’m going to do to prevent that from happening. I’m not going to allow you to touch me. I’m not going to give you the opportunity to lay your hands on me and infect me with whatever horrible affliction makes you the way you are. To hell with fluffy kittens and puppies and happy smiles and rainbows. This has gone from a wrestling match to an all-out ass whooping.
THE WOLF: See, Luster creeps me out almost as much as you do. To think that I would be put in the position to let the two of you touch and roll around with me is disturbing, although not nearly as much as the thought that one of you might actually beat me in the middle of the ring. No, I can’t allow that to happen and still look at myself in the mirror every day. As it is I’m going to have to scrub myself with turpentine and a wire brush after our match. I’ll not soil myself further with a loss to the likes of you freaks.
::FADE TO BLACK::
::FADEIN on the WFW banner backstage. “The Wolf” Chris McMillan stands there, attired as usual in jeans, harness boots, and a Chris Benoit “Toothless Aggression” t-shirt::
THE WOLF: Wow. I’m at a loss, here. I’ve stepped into the ring with some of the most depraved, violent, and twisted individuals ever to walk the face of the earth. Throughout the whole of my career, though, I’ve never had to wrestle a total lunatic. I’ve faced off against retards, self-mutilators, midgets, sociopaths, and even the Prince of Darkness himself, if you believe him. But never, NEVER, have I seen insanity the likes of which El Arco Iris brings to the ring.
THE WOLF: You’ve got me worried, Iris. What are you going to do, beat me to death with fluffy kittens and cuddly puppies? The thought, while admittedly amusing, is also terrifying in the extreme. Not to mention the fact that PETA would be all over your ass in the time it takes to sneeze, but that’s beyond the scope of the subject. No, what we’re talking about here is all-out lunacy. I’ve been accused once or twice of being not-quite-stable myself, and it’s probably true. But come on, man. What does it take to get someone commited these days? Obviously quite a bit more than it should, since you’re still walking the streets.
THE WOLF: The glint of madness in your eyes, the lunatic grin platered over your face … it makes me wonder if that’s the last thing some little kid sees as you lure them into the back of your rainbow-painted van with a piece if candy in one hand and a pair of handcuffs in the other.
THE WOLF: It’s safe to say that I’m fairl well horrified with the thought of stepping into the ring with you, El Arco Iris. Putting the entirely creepy Luster aside for the moment, I’m loathe to do this. I hate the thought of you touching me. You might pass along the crazy to me. So here’s what I’m going to do to prevent that from happening. I’m not going to allow you to touch me. I’m not going to give you the opportunity to lay your hands on me and infect me with whatever horrible affliction makes you the way you are. To hell with fluffy kittens and puppies and happy smiles and rainbows. This has gone from a wrestling match to an all-out ass whooping.
THE WOLF: See, Luster creeps me out almost as much as you do. To think that I would be put in the position to let the two of you touch and roll around with me is disturbing, although not nearly as much as the thought that one of you might actually beat me in the middle of the ring. No, I can’t allow that to happen and still look at myself in the mirror every day. As it is I’m going to have to scrub myself with turpentine and a wire brush after our match. I’ll not soil myself further with a loss to the likes of you freaks.
::FADE TO BLACK::
coolmint21
League Member
Luster is Drunk.
[updated:LAST EDITED ON Aug-10-03 AT 08:15 PM (EST)]FADEIN: Luster is Drunk. He is at a seedy bar in Atlanta. There are no friends or ladies with him. He is alone during these hard times. Luster is still winless. He just ordered a new drink so he will be willing to talk into the camera.
Luster: Luster is drunk. Luster has had too much to drink. Luster may not show up for his match at Spirit of Luster. Luster is tired of being beaten. Luster can't win. Luster always gets screwed out of the win. Luster is very f**kin' argry about this.
(Luster's speech maybe hard to understand since he is drunk. The bartender just brought him a new drink.)
Luster: Luster gots a new drink. Luster is ready to pick up one lucky lady tonight. Before Luster gets the lady he must address the issue of Magellan and La Barco Dogis. Luster will bring his crowbar to the ring and guarantee the win. Luster will beat both of your punka**es down, mandingo. Luster is full of liquid courage now. In fact bring your a**es down here so Luster can smash your face in right now.
(Luster gets up and looks around the bar for his lucky lady. He spots a nice looking woman and walks towards her.)
Luster: Hello, Lady. Luster gots what you need. Luster gots the package. You wants to go home with me?
The Lady: No because you are a loser. You can't even win a match. You suck and you are the worst wrestler ever.
(Luster looks upset and then b**ch slaps the lady and walks away.)
Luster: Luster has to win and if Luster don't win he will still beat the s**t out of both my opponents.
FADEOUT: Luster leaves the bar.
[updated:LAST EDITED ON Aug-10-03 AT 08:15 PM (EST)]FADEIN: Luster is Drunk. He is at a seedy bar in Atlanta. There are no friends or ladies with him. He is alone during these hard times. Luster is still winless. He just ordered a new drink so he will be willing to talk into the camera.
Luster: Luster is drunk. Luster has had too much to drink. Luster may not show up for his match at Spirit of Luster. Luster is tired of being beaten. Luster can't win. Luster always gets screwed out of the win. Luster is very f**kin' argry about this.
(Luster's speech maybe hard to understand since he is drunk. The bartender just brought him a new drink.)
Luster: Luster gots a new drink. Luster is ready to pick up one lucky lady tonight. Before Luster gets the lady he must address the issue of Magellan and La Barco Dogis. Luster will bring his crowbar to the ring and guarantee the win. Luster will beat both of your punka**es down, mandingo. Luster is full of liquid courage now. In fact bring your a**es down here so Luster can smash your face in right now.
(Luster gets up and looks around the bar for his lucky lady. He spots a nice looking woman and walks towards her.)
Luster: Hello, Lady. Luster gots what you need. Luster gots the package. You wants to go home with me?
The Lady: No because you are a loser. You can't even win a match. You suck and you are the worst wrestler ever.
(Luster looks upset and then b**ch slaps the lady and walks away.)
Luster: Luster has to win and if Luster don't win he will still beat the s**t out of both my opponents.
FADEOUT: Luster leaves the bar.
Mister Dread
League Member
Luster is a LOSER.
::FADEIN on the rickety, sagging ring at the Basham-Schultz Wrestling Academy, the dim and unsavory haunt of “The Wolf” Chris McMillan. McMillan sits perched on the top turnbuckle, attired as usual injeans, harness boots, and a faded Dogs of War t-shirt::
THE WOLF: So, Luster has decided to show his face around here. Smelling of cheap booze and getting shot down by the local whores, no less. Welcome back, Luster. I thought maybe you had ducked into a hole, shaking in terror at the thought of facing off against me again. I guess you’re just not smart enough for that, though. I see, though, that you are at least bright enough to realize that it’s going to take a hell of a lot more than your sub-par wrestling skills to beat me. So you’re planning to bring a crowbar, huh? Fine, bring it. Go ahead and get yourself thrown out of the match, for all I care. Or don’t. Maybe you could get away with using it and not get caught. That’s fine, too. Doesn’t matter. I’ve been hit with a lot worse than a crowbar than my time, and I got back up. I always get back up.
::McMillan hops down from the top of the turnbuckle and stalks to the center of the ring::
THE WOLF: You, on the other hand, seem to be at home on your back. Seems like every time I see you, Luster, you’re on the mat counting the lights. Look, let me give you a little friendly … or not-so-friendly advice. Lose the shiny pants and disco boots. Put down the bottle, kick out all the women you paid for, and haul your drunk ass into the gym. Show a little pride in yourself, man. Until you start respecting yourself, nobody is going to respect you, least of all me. Not as a man, and sure as hell not as an opponent.
THE WOLF: See, Luster, you’re not only facing off against me, you’re facing off against El Arco Iris as well. Now, I don’t know the first thing about the man, except for the fact that he’s nuttier than something that’s got a hell of a lot of nuts in it. Keep that in mind, son. You’re stepping in the ring with one of the best mat technicians in our time, and a raving lunatic. Both of us are looking to beat the living hell out of you. What are you gonna do about it? How are you gonna stop both of us? Do you really think that you’re gonna fend off two men when you can’t even beat me? It isn’t gonna happen, not unless you show me a hell of a lot more than I’ve already seen.
THE WOLF: Now, don’t go thinking that I’m focusing solely on you, Luster. I ain’t forgot about you, Iris. See, unlike Luster I DO have the skill, the talent, and the drive to beat back two men. And easily at that, when it’s two men like you and the disco king over there. For the first time in a long time, I’m not sweating this match. You may think I’m overconfident, but let me assure you, son, I’m just confident enough.
THE WOLF: Luster, Iris … the two of you creep me out more than any two wrestlers on the face of the earth. I’m going to do everything in my power to stop the two of you from touching me and infecting me with your various diseases and ailments.
THE WOLF: So go ahead, Luster. Sit there and get piss drunk. Slap around the ladies a little. Then grab your crowbar and drag your ass to the ring. And you, El Arco Iris … polish up your lunatic grin and fill your pockets with sunshine and happiness. None of it will save you from me.
::FADE TO BLACK::
::FADEIN on the rickety, sagging ring at the Basham-Schultz Wrestling Academy, the dim and unsavory haunt of “The Wolf” Chris McMillan. McMillan sits perched on the top turnbuckle, attired as usual injeans, harness boots, and a faded Dogs of War t-shirt::
THE WOLF: So, Luster has decided to show his face around here. Smelling of cheap booze and getting shot down by the local whores, no less. Welcome back, Luster. I thought maybe you had ducked into a hole, shaking in terror at the thought of facing off against me again. I guess you’re just not smart enough for that, though. I see, though, that you are at least bright enough to realize that it’s going to take a hell of a lot more than your sub-par wrestling skills to beat me. So you’re planning to bring a crowbar, huh? Fine, bring it. Go ahead and get yourself thrown out of the match, for all I care. Or don’t. Maybe you could get away with using it and not get caught. That’s fine, too. Doesn’t matter. I’ve been hit with a lot worse than a crowbar than my time, and I got back up. I always get back up.
::McMillan hops down from the top of the turnbuckle and stalks to the center of the ring::
THE WOLF: You, on the other hand, seem to be at home on your back. Seems like every time I see you, Luster, you’re on the mat counting the lights. Look, let me give you a little friendly … or not-so-friendly advice. Lose the shiny pants and disco boots. Put down the bottle, kick out all the women you paid for, and haul your drunk ass into the gym. Show a little pride in yourself, man. Until you start respecting yourself, nobody is going to respect you, least of all me. Not as a man, and sure as hell not as an opponent.
THE WOLF: See, Luster, you’re not only facing off against me, you’re facing off against El Arco Iris as well. Now, I don’t know the first thing about the man, except for the fact that he’s nuttier than something that’s got a hell of a lot of nuts in it. Keep that in mind, son. You’re stepping in the ring with one of the best mat technicians in our time, and a raving lunatic. Both of us are looking to beat the living hell out of you. What are you gonna do about it? How are you gonna stop both of us? Do you really think that you’re gonna fend off two men when you can’t even beat me? It isn’t gonna happen, not unless you show me a hell of a lot more than I’ve already seen.
THE WOLF: Now, don’t go thinking that I’m focusing solely on you, Luster. I ain’t forgot about you, Iris. See, unlike Luster I DO have the skill, the talent, and the drive to beat back two men. And easily at that, when it’s two men like you and the disco king over there. For the first time in a long time, I’m not sweating this match. You may think I’m overconfident, but let me assure you, son, I’m just confident enough.
THE WOLF: Luster, Iris … the two of you creep me out more than any two wrestlers on the face of the earth. I’m going to do everything in my power to stop the two of you from touching me and infecting me with your various diseases and ailments.
THE WOLF: So go ahead, Luster. Sit there and get piss drunk. Slap around the ladies a little. Then grab your crowbar and drag your ass to the ring. And you, El Arco Iris … polish up your lunatic grin and fill your pockets with sunshine and happiness. None of it will save you from me.
::FADE TO BLACK::
coolmint21
League Member
Drunk Again.
FADEIN:Luster is drunk again. He is sitting at the bar and swaying back and forth. The bartender just keeps bringing him drink after drink. He is feeding the fire.
(Luster is writing some things on a piece of paper while he drinks his Long Island Iced Tea.)
Luster: Luster gots his list in the works. (He burps.) Luster knows whose next now. First Luster has Magellan then La Barco Dogis. Luster gots to hit everyone on this list with his trusty crowbar, b**ch.
(Luster burps again and orders another drink. He looks again into the camera. Before Luster can talk into the camera reveals the next person on the list and its none other then Manson.)
Luster: Luster gots ten people on this list so don't be crossin' this Funky MothaF**ka. Luster can't drive the Funkytown Express tonight but he can drop the package on one lucky lady tonight. Before Luster leaves the scene Luster gots to address the ever so boring and longwinded Magellan and the queerio La Barco Dogis. Luster has to hear you both on and on about how good and gay you both are in the ring. Luster may not be on a winning strike but Luster is gettin' laid, mandingo. The ladies love Luster, oh but wait you ladies may love Luster also. Bring your no personality havin' a**es to the ring and Luster will drop the package and swing the crowbar.
(Luster turns to talk to a ladies and falls to the floor. Luster passes out as the chair falls on top of him.)
FADEOUT: Fade to Black.
FADEIN:Luster is drunk again. He is sitting at the bar and swaying back and forth. The bartender just keeps bringing him drink after drink. He is feeding the fire.
(Luster is writing some things on a piece of paper while he drinks his Long Island Iced Tea.)
Luster: Luster gots his list in the works. (He burps.) Luster knows whose next now. First Luster has Magellan then La Barco Dogis. Luster gots to hit everyone on this list with his trusty crowbar, b**ch.
(Luster burps again and orders another drink. He looks again into the camera. Before Luster can talk into the camera reveals the next person on the list and its none other then Manson.)
Luster: Luster gots ten people on this list so don't be crossin' this Funky MothaF**ka. Luster can't drive the Funkytown Express tonight but he can drop the package on one lucky lady tonight. Before Luster leaves the scene Luster gots to address the ever so boring and longwinded Magellan and the queerio La Barco Dogis. Luster has to hear you both on and on about how good and gay you both are in the ring. Luster may not be on a winning strike but Luster is gettin' laid, mandingo. The ladies love Luster, oh but wait you ladies may love Luster also. Bring your no personality havin' a**es to the ring and Luster will drop the package and swing the crowbar.
(Luster turns to talk to a ladies and falls to the floor. Luster passes out as the chair falls on top of him.)
FADEOUT: Fade to Black.