Post by kidnotorious on Apr 10, 2011 18:33:24 GMT -4
[The scene opens up outside of a local Fry's Food & Drug store. It's a bright, sunny ass day out and while it's not the usual 157 degrees, it might as well be. Especially to one person in particular, sitting on the side of the store.]
Geeeeeet your girl scout cookies here! Only FIVE WHOLE DOLLARS! What a treat, right?!
[Yes indeed, Brandon Young, one half of YOUR APW Tag Team Champions... has been relegated to girl scout cookie duty. Which is odd because he is neither a child, or a GIRL, but that doesn't stop him from selling his ass off. And in true Brandon style, when he goes in to something, he goes all in. So not only is he doing all he can to sell the cookies, he's doing so decked out in his very own girl scout uniform!]
Brandon: C'mon, you know you want to! Look at all these delicious thin mint boxes, just waiting for you to buy them!
[The Young Gun waves frantically to all the people passing by, but barely any of them pay him any attention, which only frustrates him more.]
Brandon: Oh come on! Hey you, fat ass! Come on man, you KNOW you're just dying for a box or twelve of these awesome tagalongs! Hey lady, buy some peanut butter cookies! They're probably better for you than whatever you're gonna pile into your food hole tonight anyways.
Grace: ...Bacon, pleaaaase tell me ye were nae jus' doin' what it looked ye were doin?
[Brandon jumps at the voice of the Irish Assassin, as she walks out of the grocery store, in full Girl scout troop leader gear, a pack of young girl scouts following behind her.]
Grace: We're tryin' ta' sell these t'ings, not scare people off!
Brandon: I WAS selling them! It's not my fault they're ridiculously overpriced and nobody wants to buy them anymore.
Grace: Maybe ye're not tryin' 'ard enough?
[Brandon points to his get up.]
Brandon: Hello?!
Grace: ...Fair. Oh, I see th' Teevee peoples are here. Can ye at least watch th' wee ones whilst I do this promo dealie?
Brandon: Sure.
[Brandon herds all of the girl scouts behind the table. Grace nods, and turns to the camera.]
Grace: Well, Rasslemania didnae go th' way I 'ad planned it to, but... I'm happy with th' results. I woulda sure liked ta win tha' Title shot, but I'll be gettin t'there eventually.
[The Irish Assassin smiles. In the background, the group of 10 year old girls have to physically hold Brandon back from assaulting the guy on the other side of the table, while the guy is being held back by his wife.]
Grace: Comin' in seventh in a twenty-person battle royal ain't all bad, I s'pose. Th' one t'ing that gets me about th' whole t'ing though... is the "woman" who threw me out.
Audrey Horn. Now, I got nothin' against cheerleader-types. Some a'me best friends 'ave been cheerleaders in their day. But you... ye are everyt'in I hate about those types, woman. Yuir ditzy, blonde bimbo act is a joke to th' REAL women who want t'be professional wrasslers.
F'r a gal like me t'be thrown out by a gal like you? A REAL woman bein thrown out by Malibu Barbie? Well, tha' jus' won't do. Won't do at all.
Brandon: That reminds me!
[Grace turns back to the table, and Brandon.]
Brandon: Speaking of things that are dumb, and shouldn't happen, since Nate Bishop thinks he can just make up Championships and all because he can't win them on his own... I made this!
[He reaches underneath the table and pulls out a piece of cardboard cut out to look like a Title belt. The sides are colored in gold with markers while the round part where the face plate of the title would be is a paper plate with Kaycee's face taped onto it.]
Brandon: This is my new Title. I call it the "APW I'm the only person in the world who gets to sex Kaycee up world Championship."
[Grace just STARES at Brandon.]
Grace: What in th' blues o' blue 'ells is wrong with you, lad?
Brandon: What? Don't like it? I got you one too!
[Brandon reaches under the table again, and pulls out another cardboard title belt. This one has a picture of Madok Mortalis's face on the front with a bullet through his skull. He hands it to Grace who just stares at him again.]
Brandon: I call this one the "APW Grace is gonna murder MODOK with both hands and one leg tied behind her back light heavyweight championship."
Grace: ...
Brandon: What? Still not enough? Oh alright, you win. Title belts for all!
[He pulls out more cardboard titles and hands them to the girl scouts, passers-by, everyone he can.]
Grace: ...I'm jus' gonna go over 'ere now.
Brandon: Sorry Grace, can't hear you over the sound of how awesome my obviously fake titles are. I'm almost as cool as Nate Bishop!
[Grace facepalms as she moves further down the way.]
Grace: Audrey Horn. Ye can call yourself "Danger Girl" all ye want, but when it comes to this match, when it comes to you n' me?
I'M the Danger.
You're jus' a Girl.
You're a girl playin' in a world that is much, much bigger than ye will e'er be. This ain't the land of fairytales an' make believe where Barbie and Ken get married in a mansion and live happily ever after. This is th' real world. And in th' real world, Barbie get's her 'ead ripped off and fed to the dog while everyone watches on in laughter.
Although I guess, in th' case o' ye n' me, it'd be more like Barbie gets her ARMS torn off.
Tha's what I do, Barbie. I tear your arms outta ye're sockets. The better to beat ye to death wit' 'em.
[The Irish Assassin grins.]
Grace: I'm fixin' to make up f'r lettin ye throw me over the ropes at Rasslemania, and I'm gonna do that by makin th' Barbie Girl wish she'd never even THOUGHT about gettin' into this business! I'm gonna make your poor, cute little face contort into all kinds'a fun positions. Well, fun f'r me, not so much f'r ye.
And then, after I can takes no more a'puttin up wit' ye whining and crying and beggin' f'r me to let you live... Then I'ma strike. I'ma lock the Saving Grace and PULL! Until I rip ye're tiny little barbie doll arms right from ye chest. And I'm gonna put ye're arms up in a glass case as me spoils of war. As a trophy, and a reminder of what I DON'T let happen.
[She looks back at the table.]
Grace: And that's th' way th' cookie crumbles.
[Fade.]
Geeeeeet your girl scout cookies here! Only FIVE WHOLE DOLLARS! What a treat, right?!
[Yes indeed, Brandon Young, one half of YOUR APW Tag Team Champions... has been relegated to girl scout cookie duty. Which is odd because he is neither a child, or a GIRL, but that doesn't stop him from selling his ass off. And in true Brandon style, when he goes in to something, he goes all in. So not only is he doing all he can to sell the cookies, he's doing so decked out in his very own girl scout uniform!]
Brandon: C'mon, you know you want to! Look at all these delicious thin mint boxes, just waiting for you to buy them!
[The Young Gun waves frantically to all the people passing by, but barely any of them pay him any attention, which only frustrates him more.]
Brandon: Oh come on! Hey you, fat ass! Come on man, you KNOW you're just dying for a box or twelve of these awesome tagalongs! Hey lady, buy some peanut butter cookies! They're probably better for you than whatever you're gonna pile into your food hole tonight anyways.
Grace: ...Bacon, pleaaaase tell me ye were nae jus' doin' what it looked ye were doin?
[Brandon jumps at the voice of the Irish Assassin, as she walks out of the grocery store, in full Girl scout troop leader gear, a pack of young girl scouts following behind her.]
Grace: We're tryin' ta' sell these t'ings, not scare people off!
Brandon: I WAS selling them! It's not my fault they're ridiculously overpriced and nobody wants to buy them anymore.
Grace: Maybe ye're not tryin' 'ard enough?
[Brandon points to his get up.]
Brandon: Hello?!
Grace: ...Fair. Oh, I see th' Teevee peoples are here. Can ye at least watch th' wee ones whilst I do this promo dealie?
Brandon: Sure.
[Brandon herds all of the girl scouts behind the table. Grace nods, and turns to the camera.]
Grace: Well, Rasslemania didnae go th' way I 'ad planned it to, but... I'm happy with th' results. I woulda sure liked ta win tha' Title shot, but I'll be gettin t'there eventually.
[The Irish Assassin smiles. In the background, the group of 10 year old girls have to physically hold Brandon back from assaulting the guy on the other side of the table, while the guy is being held back by his wife.]
Grace: Comin' in seventh in a twenty-person battle royal ain't all bad, I s'pose. Th' one t'ing that gets me about th' whole t'ing though... is the "woman" who threw me out.
Audrey Horn. Now, I got nothin' against cheerleader-types. Some a'me best friends 'ave been cheerleaders in their day. But you... ye are everyt'in I hate about those types, woman. Yuir ditzy, blonde bimbo act is a joke to th' REAL women who want t'be professional wrasslers.
F'r a gal like me t'be thrown out by a gal like you? A REAL woman bein thrown out by Malibu Barbie? Well, tha' jus' won't do. Won't do at all.
Brandon: That reminds me!
[Grace turns back to the table, and Brandon.]
Brandon: Speaking of things that are dumb, and shouldn't happen, since Nate Bishop thinks he can just make up Championships and all because he can't win them on his own... I made this!
[He reaches underneath the table and pulls out a piece of cardboard cut out to look like a Title belt. The sides are colored in gold with markers while the round part where the face plate of the title would be is a paper plate with Kaycee's face taped onto it.]
Brandon: This is my new Title. I call it the "APW I'm the only person in the world who gets to sex Kaycee up world Championship."
[Grace just STARES at Brandon.]
Grace: What in th' blues o' blue 'ells is wrong with you, lad?
Brandon: What? Don't like it? I got you one too!
[Brandon reaches under the table again, and pulls out another cardboard title belt. This one has a picture of Madok Mortalis's face on the front with a bullet through his skull. He hands it to Grace who just stares at him again.]
Brandon: I call this one the "APW Grace is gonna murder MODOK with both hands and one leg tied behind her back light heavyweight championship."
Grace: ...
Brandon: What? Still not enough? Oh alright, you win. Title belts for all!
[He pulls out more cardboard titles and hands them to the girl scouts, passers-by, everyone he can.]
Grace: ...I'm jus' gonna go over 'ere now.
Brandon: Sorry Grace, can't hear you over the sound of how awesome my obviously fake titles are. I'm almost as cool as Nate Bishop!
[Grace facepalms as she moves further down the way.]
Grace: Audrey Horn. Ye can call yourself "Danger Girl" all ye want, but when it comes to this match, when it comes to you n' me?
I'M the Danger.
You're jus' a Girl.
You're a girl playin' in a world that is much, much bigger than ye will e'er be. This ain't the land of fairytales an' make believe where Barbie and Ken get married in a mansion and live happily ever after. This is th' real world. And in th' real world, Barbie get's her 'ead ripped off and fed to the dog while everyone watches on in laughter.
Although I guess, in th' case o' ye n' me, it'd be more like Barbie gets her ARMS torn off.
Tha's what I do, Barbie. I tear your arms outta ye're sockets. The better to beat ye to death wit' 'em.
[The Irish Assassin grins.]
Grace: I'm fixin' to make up f'r lettin ye throw me over the ropes at Rasslemania, and I'm gonna do that by makin th' Barbie Girl wish she'd never even THOUGHT about gettin' into this business! I'm gonna make your poor, cute little face contort into all kinds'a fun positions. Well, fun f'r me, not so much f'r ye.
And then, after I can takes no more a'puttin up wit' ye whining and crying and beggin' f'r me to let you live... Then I'ma strike. I'ma lock the Saving Grace and PULL! Until I rip ye're tiny little barbie doll arms right from ye chest. And I'm gonna put ye're arms up in a glass case as me spoils of war. As a trophy, and a reminder of what I DON'T let happen.
[She looks back at the table.]
Grace: And that's th' way th' cookie crumbles.
[Fade.]
