Post by Jules on Feb 10, 2012 12:12:00 GMT -4
The promo begins with the camera focussed on a door with a sign labelled
Fade to a scene inside a professional office. Hello, what’s going here? The ‘Quintessentially English’ Julius Farquhar and Manservant are sat opposite an academic looking type; a desk separates them; there are plenty of credentials on the wall behind said academic looking type, who is in fact one Dr. Earl Elphick (M.Sc, Ph.D).
Dr. Elphick: So Mr. Farquhar, how can I be of help to you today?
Julius looks at Manservant next to him; the big guy looks sheepish, well as sheepish as a man wearing a mask can look.
Julius: Doctor, I require your discrete services in order to assist my manservant here.
Dr. Elphick: Okay, I’ll see what I can do to help. What seems to be the problem with your manservant?
Julius: It’s like this Doctor: he is a very able Manservant, befitting of a man of such high standing as myself, but he has a little trouble speaking. This is never been a problem before because I value him for the physical services he provides for me, not for his intellect or his company.
Dr. Elphick: When you say he has trouble speaking, you mean he cannot talk at all or he doesn’t understand English?
Julius: Aren’t they one and the same thing?
Dr. Elphick: Not quite Mr. Farquhar. Being mute is very different to not understanding English. There are after all other language such as French, German, or Chinese.
Julius is astounded.
Julius: Surely you cannot be serious?
Dr. Elphick: What do you mean?
Julius: French? German? Chineeese?
There is a definite lilt in Julius’ voice as he says the word ‘Chinese’.
Julius: These are not languages, but mere barbaric ejaculations of guttural noise.
Dr. Elphick is a bit perplexed, he’s left to wonder who, or what, has walked into his office.
Dr. Elphick: Can I try and communicate with, er, what’s your manservant’s name?
Julius: Manservant.
Dr. Elphick: His name is Manservant?
Julius: Quite. You seem to look confused Doctor.
Dr. Elphick: I don’t think I’ve ever met a person who is named after his job title.
Julius: Well, Manservant isn’t exactly a person, why he barely registers as a human being at all.
There is a hurt look on the face of Manservant. It’s bad enough that he scolds me daily, he thinks, now he is de-humanizing me. Dr. Elphick decides it might be best if he ignores Julius Farquhar and begins his examination.
Dr. Elphick: Manservant, can you understand what I am saying?
Manservant: *grunt*
Julius: Of course he bloody understand what you are saying, I thought even American doctors had some semblance of intelligence. He knows exactly what is being said to him English. Watch.
Julius turns to Manservant.
Julius: Get down on the floor and polish my shoes you useless scoundrel!
Manservant does exactly as he is told, Julius starts slapping the back of Manservant’s head for being too slow or sloppy about.
Dr. Elphick: Mr. Farquhar!
Julius looks up.
Dr. Elphick: Okay, you’ve established that Manservant understands English. Can we return to the consultation please?
Julius instructs Manservant to go back to his seat.
Manservant: *grunt* *grunt-grunt*
Julius: See he’s speaking Greek or German, or whatever queer noises these barbarians call communication.
Dr. Elphick: Mr. Farquhar, these are merely grunts, they are not words...
Julius: Exactly.
Julius turns to Manservant.
Julius: Now stop speaking this foreign muck and let the Doctor examine you.
Manservant: *Grunt*[/color]
Dr. Elphick is already finding this to be quite the ordeal. He turns to Julius and says very firmly.
Dr. Elphick: Mr. Farquhar, I want you to listen to me very carefully and I don’t want you to speak unless I ask you a question first. Understood?
Julius nods.
Dr. Elphick: My preliminary examinations suggest there are no problems with Manservant’s cognitive capacities since he seems to fully understand English when it is spoken to him. Instead his condition concerns an inability to speak the language, which is something I will address. Do you understand?
Julius: Perfectly.
Dr. Elphick: Very good. Now this is going to take some time, but Manservant will be able to speak eventually. However, while we carry out the treatment I think it might be best if you waited in the lobby. I don’t think your presence in these sessions will be very constructive.
Julius: Fine. As long as you get him to stop speaking that gibberish.
*
The following message is brought to you by the Action Packed Network.
Julius Farquhar is sat alone facing directly into the camera.
Can you hear that sound, Daniel?
That, old man, is the sound of the tick-tocking of the clock as it counts down to your Quintessentially English thrashing in San Antonio this Sunday. I know the show goes out live on the Food Network, which seems appropriate considering our match will be the equivalent of putting a human being through a food processor.
As time draws ever closer to the sounding of the bell I have to come realise that Manservant may not be the only person in need of a speech therapist; he is apparently not the only person who has lost the basic ability to speak. Pray, has the proverbial cat lost its tongue? Or did Cid Phoenix take it with him when he left you high and dry and sold down the river any semblance of a career you had left.
I have seen this situation many a time in the varied experience of my wonderful life: how the sheep get lost without their shepherd. I look at you and I am reminded of Gordon Brown post-Tony Blair. With a proud and determined face I am sure you will try to carry on, but you are ultimately fighting a losing battle.
Even in the unwanted pregnancy that was Anti Society-X you were never the flavour anyone chose, never the concern, just some feeble shadow lurking behind your equally enfeebled leader. In the abortion of that concept that was Anti Society-X what is left? The remnants hardly constitute a blob of mucus: it’s just you and some woman. What chances do you stand against a man who is Quintessentially English and is backed by 300lbs of unadulterated hate? I fancy Jason Kash’s chances of going cold turkey over yours.
I came to Asylum make a much needed change: to clean this show up of scoundrels like Phil Atken, to conquer and exterminate the philistines such as Jason Kash and Rico Casteel, to show that one-hit wonders like Johnny Knuckles and Alioth Starre are unworthy of the main event, to prove that I am the only Quintessentially English wrestler in the world and all those other pretenders like Dan Quinn should be polishing my boots and not absorbing TV time in my ring, and most of all to show all these American idiots that Quintessentially English is best.
I am going to clean up this Asylum, and I am going to begin it with you.
*
Promo completed Julius Farquhar steps out of the APW studio and makes his way to the office of General Manager of Asylum Reginald Schmidt’s office, where he has been called for a meeting. We’re inside Reginald’s office and being the hard working pen-pusher and man’s man that he is Reginald is currently watching old ‘Spice Girls’ videos on Youtube.com. At the knock of the door he drops the volume and minimizes the window.
Reginald: Er, come in.
In walks Julius Farquhar. As has been his way of late he greets Reginald in over-familiar and insincerely friendly terms. He has brought another gift for the Asylum GM.
Julius: Just a small gesture of friendship.
Reginald removes the wrapping paper to reveal a box of loose Earl Gray tea. Reginald smiles and places it proudly on his desk; he will add it to the box where has hidden the other fifteen boxes Julius has presented to him. For the uninitiated Julius has spent more time on Asylum brown nosing Reginald than he has wrestling; it hasn’t worked so far.
Julius: So how are you doing, old bean?
Reginald: Very well. Now Mr. Farquhar....
Julius: Please, I insist on Julius. None of this formality amongst friends, old chap.
Julius could not have said it any more insincerely.
Reginald: Okay, Julius...
They both smile, Reginald awkwardly.
Reginald: I’ve called you into discuss your upcoming television commitments on Asylum.
Julius: You want me in the main event? No problem Reginald. I wouldn’t usually exploit our friendship to get myself ahead, but since you insist I will bend my principles just this once.
Julius is beaming a terrible grin, some attempt at looking virtuous, as though such an eventuality would mean him doing Reginald a favour.
Reginald: Actually, it’s not that.
Julius looks crestfallen, a little bit annoyed.
Reginald: I want to see how you go in the ring before I start putting you over some of the other guys in the queue. You have your match with Dan Bochner this Sunday and I look forward to seeing what you will bring to the show.
Julius: Perfection, old chap. Complete, infinitesimal Perfection.
Reginald furrows his brow at that tautological hyperbole.
Reginald: But it’s not your wrestling I want to chat to you about. I see you were involved in some kind of pre-Survive & Conquer wager with Phil Atken.
Julius’ face drops; he knows exactly what this is all about.
Reginald: Well, Atken has been in touch and he thinks Asylum would be the perfect time for you to pay your debt so to speak.
Julius: Reginald! How could you?
Julius stops, his consternation turns to outrage.
Julius: Has that whiskey-swilling, soap-avoiding, skirt-wearing, log-throwing moron been in here harassing you? Just nod and I’ll have Manservant on the case.
Reginald shakes his head.
Reginald: There will be no need for that. I agreed. I think it will be good television, which means it is good for business, which means Jeff will be pleased with me, which means I am on my way to a bigger office and with it a bigger computer monitor.
Reginald dreams of his 40” monitor and how much he would enjoy watching the Spice Girls on that screen.
Reginald: So make sure you’re at the arena nice and early because I want that segment done before your match.
Julius shakes his head and gets to his feet.
Julius: This is just not cricket Reginald!
He storms out. Reginald smiles and gets back to watching the Spice Girls jiggle their biggles.
Dr. E. Elphick (M.Sc, Ph.D)
Speech Therapist
Speech Therapist
Fade to a scene inside a professional office. Hello, what’s going here? The ‘Quintessentially English’ Julius Farquhar and Manservant are sat opposite an academic looking type; a desk separates them; there are plenty of credentials on the wall behind said academic looking type, who is in fact one Dr. Earl Elphick (M.Sc, Ph.D).
Dr. Elphick: So Mr. Farquhar, how can I be of help to you today?
Julius looks at Manservant next to him; the big guy looks sheepish, well as sheepish as a man wearing a mask can look.
Julius: Doctor, I require your discrete services in order to assist my manservant here.
Dr. Elphick: Okay, I’ll see what I can do to help. What seems to be the problem with your manservant?
Julius: It’s like this Doctor: he is a very able Manservant, befitting of a man of such high standing as myself, but he has a little trouble speaking. This is never been a problem before because I value him for the physical services he provides for me, not for his intellect or his company.
Dr. Elphick: When you say he has trouble speaking, you mean he cannot talk at all or he doesn’t understand English?
Julius: Aren’t they one and the same thing?
Dr. Elphick: Not quite Mr. Farquhar. Being mute is very different to not understanding English. There are after all other language such as French, German, or Chinese.
Julius is astounded.
Julius: Surely you cannot be serious?
Dr. Elphick: What do you mean?
Julius: French? German? Chineeese?
There is a definite lilt in Julius’ voice as he says the word ‘Chinese’.
Julius: These are not languages, but mere barbaric ejaculations of guttural noise.
Dr. Elphick is a bit perplexed, he’s left to wonder who, or what, has walked into his office.
Dr. Elphick: Can I try and communicate with, er, what’s your manservant’s name?
Julius: Manservant.
Dr. Elphick: His name is Manservant?
Julius: Quite. You seem to look confused Doctor.
Dr. Elphick: I don’t think I’ve ever met a person who is named after his job title.
Julius: Well, Manservant isn’t exactly a person, why he barely registers as a human being at all.
There is a hurt look on the face of Manservant. It’s bad enough that he scolds me daily, he thinks, now he is de-humanizing me. Dr. Elphick decides it might be best if he ignores Julius Farquhar and begins his examination.
Dr. Elphick: Manservant, can you understand what I am saying?
Manservant: *grunt*
Julius: Of course he bloody understand what you are saying, I thought even American doctors had some semblance of intelligence. He knows exactly what is being said to him English. Watch.
Julius turns to Manservant.
Julius: Get down on the floor and polish my shoes you useless scoundrel!
Manservant does exactly as he is told, Julius starts slapping the back of Manservant’s head for being too slow or sloppy about.
Dr. Elphick: Mr. Farquhar!
Julius looks up.
Dr. Elphick: Okay, you’ve established that Manservant understands English. Can we return to the consultation please?
Julius instructs Manservant to go back to his seat.
Manservant: *grunt* *grunt-grunt*
Julius: See he’s speaking Greek or German, or whatever queer noises these barbarians call communication.
Dr. Elphick: Mr. Farquhar, these are merely grunts, they are not words...
Julius: Exactly.
Julius turns to Manservant.
Julius: Now stop speaking this foreign muck and let the Doctor examine you.
Manservant: *Grunt*[/color]
Dr. Elphick is already finding this to be quite the ordeal. He turns to Julius and says very firmly.
Dr. Elphick: Mr. Farquhar, I want you to listen to me very carefully and I don’t want you to speak unless I ask you a question first. Understood?
Julius nods.
Dr. Elphick: My preliminary examinations suggest there are no problems with Manservant’s cognitive capacities since he seems to fully understand English when it is spoken to him. Instead his condition concerns an inability to speak the language, which is something I will address. Do you understand?
Julius: Perfectly.
Dr. Elphick: Very good. Now this is going to take some time, but Manservant will be able to speak eventually. However, while we carry out the treatment I think it might be best if you waited in the lobby. I don’t think your presence in these sessions will be very constructive.
Julius: Fine. As long as you get him to stop speaking that gibberish.
*
The following message is brought to you by the Action Packed Network.
Julius Farquhar is sat alone facing directly into the camera.
Can you hear that sound, Daniel?
That, old man, is the sound of the tick-tocking of the clock as it counts down to your Quintessentially English thrashing in San Antonio this Sunday. I know the show goes out live on the Food Network, which seems appropriate considering our match will be the equivalent of putting a human being through a food processor.
As time draws ever closer to the sounding of the bell I have to come realise that Manservant may not be the only person in need of a speech therapist; he is apparently not the only person who has lost the basic ability to speak. Pray, has the proverbial cat lost its tongue? Or did Cid Phoenix take it with him when he left you high and dry and sold down the river any semblance of a career you had left.
I have seen this situation many a time in the varied experience of my wonderful life: how the sheep get lost without their shepherd. I look at you and I am reminded of Gordon Brown post-Tony Blair. With a proud and determined face I am sure you will try to carry on, but you are ultimately fighting a losing battle.
Even in the unwanted pregnancy that was Anti Society-X you were never the flavour anyone chose, never the concern, just some feeble shadow lurking behind your equally enfeebled leader. In the abortion of that concept that was Anti Society-X what is left? The remnants hardly constitute a blob of mucus: it’s just you and some woman. What chances do you stand against a man who is Quintessentially English and is backed by 300lbs of unadulterated hate? I fancy Jason Kash’s chances of going cold turkey over yours.
I came to Asylum make a much needed change: to clean this show up of scoundrels like Phil Atken, to conquer and exterminate the philistines such as Jason Kash and Rico Casteel, to show that one-hit wonders like Johnny Knuckles and Alioth Starre are unworthy of the main event, to prove that I am the only Quintessentially English wrestler in the world and all those other pretenders like Dan Quinn should be polishing my boots and not absorbing TV time in my ring, and most of all to show all these American idiots that Quintessentially English is best.
I am going to clean up this Asylum, and I am going to begin it with you.
*
Promo completed Julius Farquhar steps out of the APW studio and makes his way to the office of General Manager of Asylum Reginald Schmidt’s office, where he has been called for a meeting. We’re inside Reginald’s office and being the hard working pen-pusher and man’s man that he is Reginald is currently watching old ‘Spice Girls’ videos on Youtube.com. At the knock of the door he drops the volume and minimizes the window.
Reginald: Er, come in.
In walks Julius Farquhar. As has been his way of late he greets Reginald in over-familiar and insincerely friendly terms. He has brought another gift for the Asylum GM.
Julius: Just a small gesture of friendship.
Reginald removes the wrapping paper to reveal a box of loose Earl Gray tea. Reginald smiles and places it proudly on his desk; he will add it to the box where has hidden the other fifteen boxes Julius has presented to him. For the uninitiated Julius has spent more time on Asylum brown nosing Reginald than he has wrestling; it hasn’t worked so far.
Julius: So how are you doing, old bean?
Reginald: Very well. Now Mr. Farquhar....
Julius: Please, I insist on Julius. None of this formality amongst friends, old chap.
Julius could not have said it any more insincerely.
Reginald: Okay, Julius...
They both smile, Reginald awkwardly.
Reginald: I’ve called you into discuss your upcoming television commitments on Asylum.
Julius: You want me in the main event? No problem Reginald. I wouldn’t usually exploit our friendship to get myself ahead, but since you insist I will bend my principles just this once.
Julius is beaming a terrible grin, some attempt at looking virtuous, as though such an eventuality would mean him doing Reginald a favour.
Reginald: Actually, it’s not that.
Julius looks crestfallen, a little bit annoyed.
Reginald: I want to see how you go in the ring before I start putting you over some of the other guys in the queue. You have your match with Dan Bochner this Sunday and I look forward to seeing what you will bring to the show.
Julius: Perfection, old chap. Complete, infinitesimal Perfection.
Reginald furrows his brow at that tautological hyperbole.
Reginald: But it’s not your wrestling I want to chat to you about. I see you were involved in some kind of pre-Survive & Conquer wager with Phil Atken.
Julius’ face drops; he knows exactly what this is all about.
Reginald: Well, Atken has been in touch and he thinks Asylum would be the perfect time for you to pay your debt so to speak.
Julius: Reginald! How could you?
Julius stops, his consternation turns to outrage.
Julius: Has that whiskey-swilling, soap-avoiding, skirt-wearing, log-throwing moron been in here harassing you? Just nod and I’ll have Manservant on the case.
Reginald shakes his head.
Reginald: There will be no need for that. I agreed. I think it will be good television, which means it is good for business, which means Jeff will be pleased with me, which means I am on my way to a bigger office and with it a bigger computer monitor.
Reginald dreams of his 40” monitor and how much he would enjoy watching the Spice Girls on that screen.
Reginald: So make sure you’re at the arena nice and early because I want that segment done before your match.
Julius shakes his head and gets to his feet.
Julius: This is just not cricket Reginald!
He storms out. Reginald smiles and gets back to watching the Spice Girls jiggle their biggles.
