Post by kidnotorious on Apr 24, 2011 1:58:24 GMT -4
#Your bridges are burning down,
They're all coming down,
It's all coming 'round#
They're all coming down,
It's all coming 'round#
[It's a breezy, cooler than usual night in Tucson as the scene opens up on the outskirts of town at the Pima County Fair, an annual fair and huge get-together that's been held every year at the Fairgrounds since 1975. And it's been a family tradition for the Tanners and Youngs (and any of their friends) since Brandon and Adrian were just little kids. And so when the 2011 version of the fair came along, they of course had to go! So it is that we find the "Irish Assassin" herself walking around the fair with her American counterpart, the "Arizona Assassin" Adrian Tanner Jr. Grace is wearing blue jeans and a neon green t-shirt and carrying a mug full of alcohol while Adrian is wearing black pants and a black "Revolver" t-shirt.]
Grace: -An' it seems like Ah beat th' poor thing so badly she ain't never been seen again.
Adrian: Hey, when you call yourself "Danger Girl" you have to be prepared to yknow, actually step into Danger. Guess she wasn't, yknow?
Grace: Oh aye. She definitely wasn't ready for meh. Ah'm worried I broke th' poor girl in 'alf.
Adrian: Eh, she deserved it.
Grace: Adrian! How could ye say that? I did nae like th' gal but she didn't deserve that.
Adrian: She wants to be friends with Dangertardment, she gets what's coming to her.
[The Irish girl just shakes her head as she sips from her mug.]
Grace: Ye lot are vindictive when ye wanna be, aintcha?
Adrian: I have absolutely zero sympathy for anyone in that "group." Or anyone who associates with them. If that's "vindictive" then so be it. But fuck every single damn one of 'em for the shit Knuckles tried to pull with my sister.
Grace: Aye, on that we c'n agree at least.
[They walk by a large tented area. The doorway to the area is open and they stop and look inside, where a crowd is gathered around a man swinging two hoops lit on fire around into the air and back. They watch for a few moments before an usher steps out and tells them to leave or buy a ticket. The two opt to head on to the next act and so they continue on down the path.]
Grace: Did ye 'ear what me next match is though, Aidsy?
Adrian: Hell yeah! Tapout Title, baby!
Grace: Aye! I can nae wait t'get me hands on that belt. Especially considerin' who's 'oldin it currently...
Adrian: It's not actually M.O.D.O.K is it?
Grace: ...M.O.D.O.K? I t'ink his name be Madok or somet'in.
Adrian: Aw, M.O.D.O.K woulda been so much more fun.
Grace: ...If you say so, mate.
[Grace quirks an eyebrow at her companion for a moment before shaking her head.]
Grace: So where were we...
Adrian: You were going to cut a promo on Madork.
Grace: Madok.
Adrian: That's what I said.
Grace: Uh... huh.
[They pass by another tent, where a familiar voice can be almost heard. They pay it no mind and continue walking. A few moments later that familiar voice gets louder.]
Brandon: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH SAVE ME RAPTOR JESUS!
[From the other side of the fence comes Brandon Young. And running right behind him? A Bengal tiger that's looking at the Young Gun as if he is his next meal.]
Grace: .......
Adrian: Siiiiiigh.
Grace: ...Is that a bloomin tiger?
Adrian: Yep.
Grace: And it's... chasin' Brandy?
Adrian: Mmhmm.
Grace: Shouldn't we... do somet'in?
Adrian: Eh. He'll be fine.
Brandon: HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP HE'S GONNA EAT ME ALIVE!
Grace: Y'sure? He doesn't sound fine.
Adrian: It's Brandon. He does this. He'll be fine.
Brandon: MOOOOOOMMMYYYYYYYYYYYY!
Grace: I really t'ink...
Adrian: Less t'inky, more promoey.
[Grace glares at her friend. Adrian just shrugs. Behind them, Armed guards chase the tiger who's still chasing Brandon.]
Grace: ...Y'sure he's gonna be alright?
Adrian: Peachy keen.
Grace: ...Kay then.
[Grace looks out at Brandon again for a moment before Adrian tugs her off out of his view.]
Grace: Anyways! Mister Madok, f'r a man that's so worried about bein a father, ye sure c'nt see th' forest f'r th' trees, can ye? Yuir lil' boo hoo pity party ain't doin a t'ing to endear ye to me 'eart. T'ing's like that, they only make me wanna kick th' crap outta ye even more. "Oh woe is me! I did a bad t'ing an' now I gotta step up an' be a bleedin' MAN f'r once in me life! It must SUCK t'be me!"
Piss off wit' that nonsense, ye tosser. This 'ere be WRASSLIN! An' I came to fight WRASSLERS, not crybabies! I feel like I gotta treat ye like a-
Adrian: -Madogg.
Grace: ...And rub ye nose in what ye did, cause ye did a baaaad t'ing. A very bad one indeed, aye? If ye weren't such a-
Adrian: -Madope,
Grace: -ye might be able to make some bleedin' SENSE come outta that talky-hole of yours. Oh yes-
Adrian: -Madoof,
Grace: -please, explain to meh in your oh-so-insightful wisdom why a Title that was DESIGNED to be won and lost under SUBMISSION rules, should nae be 'eld by a SUBMISSIONS SPECIALIST?! Does that make ANY sense to anyone else 'round 'ere?
Adrian: It sure Madon't.
[Grace just... stares at Adrian, who just grins back at her.]
Grace: Ye must be-
Adrian: -Madrunk-
Grace: -If'n ye think I can nae handle me alcohol, ye-
Adrian: -Madolt.
Grace: Especially when ye yuirself was mudderin on about how ye were a drunken fool earlier on. I'm bleeding IRISH, ye fricken-
Adrian: -Madumbass-
Grace: I c'n drink yuir punk ass under the damn table and STILL beat you clean f'r that title that ye do NOT deserve in th' slightest! I did me research on ye, Madok, and despite yuir claims that ye are oh-so-bloody-awesome and Reggi should be beggin ye to want t'keep that belt around yuir waste? Ye 'aven't even WON a bloody MATCH WITH IT!
Every single bleedin match ye've "won" f'r that title 'as been by disqualification. Some fackin champ ye are. Reggi ain't t'rowin ye to the wolves because he's bein biased ye-
Adrian: -Madink-
Grace: -He's doin it because ye are an absolute DISGRACE t'the nature of th' title in the FIRST PLACE! It's gonna be me great pleasure poundin' ye into the mat like the-
Adrian: -Madouche-
Grace: -That ye are. Because 'eaven forbid a person who's speciality is beatin people inta th' ground and makin' 'em tap out like the bitches they are 'old a title thats designed for JUST THAT! How is being the BEST at something a Championship is made for a bad t'ing?
Adrian: It kinda isn't.
Grace: No, it bloody well is not. Ye c'n "intend" to win all ye want, sport. Ye ain't GOIN' to though. Because ye might 'ave the ego to fill a goddamn airship wit' but it don't mean bollocks when ye 'aven't actually won a match that meant a damn thing when the time counted. By the way, 'ows yuir pregnant girlfriend feel about ye wantin' to "do meh" as if that were ever fackin possible. Th' only moanin' and groanin we're gonna be doin friend, is when yuir trapped in one a' me many, many different submission holds, and yuir screamin bloody murder, beggin me to let you 'ave that arm back before I pop it off and beat ye to death with it!
Ye go a'ead an' keep thinkin I'm some dumb meathead, Madok. Ye couldn't be further fr'm th' truth, but whatever floats yuir boat. I mean it ain't like it takes planning an' technique, years of practice and learnin' jus' how to tweak an arm or move a shoulder-blade or nothin'. It's not like it takes smarts t'be able to figure out jus' how to move a neck so it snaps like a twig while ye've got it wrapped around yuir fingers or nothin'.
Yeah. Ye go ahead an' keep believin that fella.
Grace: It's jus' g'nna make it that much easier f'r me when it comes time to lock ye in me Saving Grace. I say me, er "my" saving grace because it will NOT be a good t'ing f'r ye, boyo.
Nay, f'r ye... It's gonna hurt.
A lot.
But c'est la vie. Ye did this to yuirself the moment ye opened that big yapper o'yuirs. I cannae be 'eld responsible f'r what 'appens to ye now. Because unfortunately f'r ye I AM going to LITERALLY pound ye into so much putty, and I'm gonna enjoy ev'ry single second of it.
I 'ope yuir ready poser-boy, tis time a REAL Champion took that belt o'yuirs f'r safe keepins.
Grace: Ciao.
[Fade.]
