Post by Jules on Mar 15, 2012 14:24:25 GMT -4
The scene opens inside the home of Julius Farquhar. He’s sat in a comfortable chair watching a DVD playback of the events that took place on Asylum towards the climax of the ‘Asylum Tea Party Challenge’. We’re up to the point when Julius throws a tea pot full of tea all over the Asylum GM Reginald Schmidt. Julius winces at the sight and pauses the DVD as Manservant comes into the room carrying a tea adorned with afternoon tea.
Julius: I still cannot believe what that fiend did Manservant.
Manservants grunts sympathetically.
Julius: You are exactly right. It is pretty obvious my tea was the better tasting. I even heard Phil Atken put scotch in his. How sinister that man is!
Manservant pours Julius a cup of tea, which the Englishman takes a sip of.
Julius: I do feel bad for poor old Reginald too. I’ve tried apologising but he doesn’t answer, he must see that it was all Phil Atken’s fault.
Manservant sits down and grunts his suggestion.
Julius: Good call old bean. I’ll do that right away.
Julius picks up the phone and dials a number. After twenty seconds or so it is clear the phone at the other end isn’t being answered, but Julius through to an answer machine.
Julius: Hello Reginald, it’s me again, Julius Farquhar. Just calling to see how you, old chap. I know it wasn’t exactly cricket this week, but you have to understand it wasn’t my fault. I’ve just watched the video and it clearly demonstrates I am completely innocent. Anyway, I hope you got my other 26 messages, please give me a call, I have some exciting plans for me and the World Heavyweight Championship post-Rasslemania.
Julius hangs up the phone and switches the channel on the television.
Julius: Get comfortable Manservant, I think my press conference is about to air on the sports channel.
The scene fades.
*
The scene opens inside a large room where a large number of the most prominent journalists from the professional wrestling media are gathered for a special press conference held by the one, the only, tea-drinking, scone-eating, Scotch-beating, Boston Tea Party match expert – the only ‘Quintessentially English’ wrestler APW and the world have been (un)fortunate to see, Mr. Julius Farquhar. He has a press officer type with him and, of course, the ubiquitous Manservant, who looks quite grunty in his suit and mask.
The press office sort stands up and call for everyone’s attention.
Press officer: Ladies & gentlemen of the press, thank you for attending this special pre-Rasslemania press conference by APW’s ‘Quintessentially English’ Julius Farquhar. Mr. Farquhar will make a brief statement about his Rasslemania match with Phil Atken, following this he will be taking some questions.
The press officer sits down, Julius stands up and begins to read from his prepared statement.
Julius: Last week I participated in a unique event in the history of professional wrestling – the first ever ‘Asylum Tea Challenge’. I want to thank all those well-wishers ahead of the event, if only you could have been there to vote for me. This should have been a watershed moment in the history of professional wrestling, when the population of the world adopted tea as their drink of choice. Just think how much better a place America would be if only they drank tea instead of beer.
Julius: I know things didn’t end well in the tea contest, but I blame entirely that Scotch scoundrel Phil Atken. I want express in particular my complete distaste for his tubby show buddy Dirk Dickwood, a vile and nasty little fatman who is obviously so resentful of a handsome superior athlete like me. My advice to Dirk would be to keep your hand out of the cookie jar, try scones instead, they contain less butter.
Julius: I also want to extend my deepest apologies to Mr. Reginald Schmidt. He is a fine man and a good friend. I know I doused you in tea last week Reginald, but you & I both know that it was all Phil Atken’s fault. If he hadn’t interfered with the votes I would have been declared the rightful winner of the ‘Asylum Tea Party Challenge’. In light of this I have taken it upon myself to have Phil Atken disqualified, and have the record books reflect that I, Julius Farquhar, am the winner. That is all.
Julius sits down and nods at the press officer.
Press officer: Right then, Mr. Farquhar will now take some questions, but he strictly forbidden any questions about tea, Robert The Bruce, and any references to a ‘Battle of Britian’. Mr. Farquhar insists he is English and does not want to be lumped in with the Scots or, in his own words, those ‘incestuous barbarians from Wales’.
A flurry of hands shoot and the press officer directs the traffic and the questions to Julius.
Reporter 1: What does it mean to you to be involved at Rasslemania VIII?
Julius: I think the real question is, what does it mean to Rasslemania to have the world’s only ‘Quintessentially English’ wrestler on the card. The answer is: unfathomable. I know that this show is going to be the biggest ever in professional wrestling, and it’s all down to me. I have revolutionised the entertainment offered by APW on its Asylum show. Who would have thought there would be a whole show dedicated to a ‘Tea Party Challenge’ before I came to APW? Nobody. I am that important and charismatic that I can put the humble cup of tea at the centre of a production and sell it to the fans like it was a date with Sally Talfourd. It’s Rasslemania today and the World Heavyweight Championship tomorrow...well, maybe not tomorrow, or the next day come to think about it....but well, you catch my drift. Remember how I made Christmas Chaos the most exciting event of 2011 by ending Zachary Rodell’s career in APW’s first ever flag match, well after I dump Phil Atken into a bath tub full of tea it will be the most talked about moment for years to come. Nevermind Level-One or Sally Talfourd, I’m the real innovator in these parts and I’ll prove that at Rasslemania.
Reporter 2: We’ve seen your rivalry with Phil Atken develop into a heated confrontation in recent weeks. Is there more to it than a simple disagreement over the preparation of a hot beverage?
Julius: More to it? What the blazes are you talking about old chap? What could be a more pressing matter than how one correctly prepares a cup of tea? Do you think Her Royal Highness Queen Elizabeth II takes a laissez-faire approach to how she drinks her tea? That is the problem with people like you, you have no sense of class and decency. This match is not merely one between a shadow of a man and an immortal warrior, this match is about pride and it is about culture.
Julius: It makes me queasy just to think a man like Phil Atken is allowed to walk around APW and promote that milky horror he calls a cup of tea. I mean, for the love of St. George, how could a man even think of denying a wonderful little tea bag its true infusing potential by clocking its breathing holes with milk. We’re not blazing Indians! We’re English, and quintessentially so at that! We drink our tea in only one way and we’re so bleeding bloody-minded about it that we will not tolerate any other suggestion, and will aggressively crush any such diversity. The only way is the ‘Quintessentially English’ way.
Julius: I’ve tolerated Phil Atken long enough, listening to him is liking having to listen ‘Flower of Scotland’ played on bagpipes for all eternity, I’d sooner drink coffee and spend an afternoon with Michael Callahan than accept that. Every time Phil Atken speaks it is like he is breaking wind on the soul of civilisation; every time he steps into the ring it’s like some rotten pervert has tarmacked the very body of professional wrestling.
Julius: I’m going to Rasslemania to wipe Phil Atken from the face of this earth...or at least to throw him into that bath tub and embarrass him in exactly the same way he tried to embarrass me. Phil Atken calls him ‘The Unfortunate One’, well that epithet will be no truer than the moment I get these ‘Quintessentially English’ Scotch-crushing hands on him.
Reporter 3: What can we expect from a Boston Tea Party Match?
Julius: Do you not listen to a bloody thing I say? The short answer is that Phil Atken will get wet. Now, I love a cup of tea as much as any ‘Quintessentially English’ man, so a bath tub of tea is like a wet dream for me, if you’ll pardon the pun. But my erotic fantasies will have to be put on hold for a couple of weeks because Rasslemania is all about business, and I’m making it my business to give that snivelling Scotchman a damn good thrashing in just the manner Edward I sent the Scots home with tails between their legs after the Battle of Falkirk in 1298.
Reporter 4: My sources suggest you’ve drawn some heat backstage for your antics; there is even some suggestion Reginald Schmidt is ready to transfer you back to Overdrive. What do yo...
Julius: What a completely preposterous question! How dare you insinuate such a madness, you filthy little man! Security get this rogue out of my press conference! Reginald Schmidt adores me, and he adores my ‘Quintessentially English’ ways.
Julius looks directly at the camera.
Julius: Reginald, I know you’re upset, but please answer my calls. I’ve even made you an honorary member of ‘The Quintessentially English Club’; I’ve made you a membership card and...
The press officer coughs to grab Julius’ attention and break this awkward and well...you know....moment. The press officer quickly moves and invites one last question.
As Julius looks around for a raised hand there is none to be found, so he stands up and gestures the press conference is over. All of a sudden there is a shout from the back of the room.
JULIUS!
The Farq, as some refer to him, looks up but cannot react to prevent a water bomb with The Saltire painted on it smashing into his face, soaking him with tea.
HOW D’YA LIKE THEM TEA BAGS, YA INGLASH WANKAH!
The man is some vagabond whose has crawled in from the street, he could just be a mad man, the fact his face is painted a la Mel Gibson from the film Braveheart suggests that he is. Manservant gives pursuit, but Julius Farquhar is left looking embarrassed and dishevelled in front of the world’s media.
The scene fades.
Julius: I still cannot believe what that fiend did Manservant.
Manservants grunts sympathetically.
Julius: You are exactly right. It is pretty obvious my tea was the better tasting. I even heard Phil Atken put scotch in his. How sinister that man is!
Manservant pours Julius a cup of tea, which the Englishman takes a sip of.
Julius: I do feel bad for poor old Reginald too. I’ve tried apologising but he doesn’t answer, he must see that it was all Phil Atken’s fault.
Manservant sits down and grunts his suggestion.
Julius: Good call old bean. I’ll do that right away.
Julius picks up the phone and dials a number. After twenty seconds or so it is clear the phone at the other end isn’t being answered, but Julius through to an answer machine.
Julius: Hello Reginald, it’s me again, Julius Farquhar. Just calling to see how you, old chap. I know it wasn’t exactly cricket this week, but you have to understand it wasn’t my fault. I’ve just watched the video and it clearly demonstrates I am completely innocent. Anyway, I hope you got my other 26 messages, please give me a call, I have some exciting plans for me and the World Heavyweight Championship post-Rasslemania.
Julius hangs up the phone and switches the channel on the television.
Julius: Get comfortable Manservant, I think my press conference is about to air on the sports channel.
The scene fades.
*
The scene opens inside a large room where a large number of the most prominent journalists from the professional wrestling media are gathered for a special press conference held by the one, the only, tea-drinking, scone-eating, Scotch-beating, Boston Tea Party match expert – the only ‘Quintessentially English’ wrestler APW and the world have been (un)fortunate to see, Mr. Julius Farquhar. He has a press officer type with him and, of course, the ubiquitous Manservant, who looks quite grunty in his suit and mask.
The press office sort stands up and call for everyone’s attention.
Press officer: Ladies & gentlemen of the press, thank you for attending this special pre-Rasslemania press conference by APW’s ‘Quintessentially English’ Julius Farquhar. Mr. Farquhar will make a brief statement about his Rasslemania match with Phil Atken, following this he will be taking some questions.
The press officer sits down, Julius stands up and begins to read from his prepared statement.
Julius: Last week I participated in a unique event in the history of professional wrestling – the first ever ‘Asylum Tea Challenge’. I want to thank all those well-wishers ahead of the event, if only you could have been there to vote for me. This should have been a watershed moment in the history of professional wrestling, when the population of the world adopted tea as their drink of choice. Just think how much better a place America would be if only they drank tea instead of beer.
Julius: I know things didn’t end well in the tea contest, but I blame entirely that Scotch scoundrel Phil Atken. I want express in particular my complete distaste for his tubby show buddy Dirk Dickwood, a vile and nasty little fatman who is obviously so resentful of a handsome superior athlete like me. My advice to Dirk would be to keep your hand out of the cookie jar, try scones instead, they contain less butter.
Julius: I also want to extend my deepest apologies to Mr. Reginald Schmidt. He is a fine man and a good friend. I know I doused you in tea last week Reginald, but you & I both know that it was all Phil Atken’s fault. If he hadn’t interfered with the votes I would have been declared the rightful winner of the ‘Asylum Tea Party Challenge’. In light of this I have taken it upon myself to have Phil Atken disqualified, and have the record books reflect that I, Julius Farquhar, am the winner. That is all.
Julius sits down and nods at the press officer.
Press officer: Right then, Mr. Farquhar will now take some questions, but he strictly forbidden any questions about tea, Robert The Bruce, and any references to a ‘Battle of Britian’. Mr. Farquhar insists he is English and does not want to be lumped in with the Scots or, in his own words, those ‘incestuous barbarians from Wales’.
A flurry of hands shoot and the press officer directs the traffic and the questions to Julius.
Reporter 1: What does it mean to you to be involved at Rasslemania VIII?
Julius: I think the real question is, what does it mean to Rasslemania to have the world’s only ‘Quintessentially English’ wrestler on the card. The answer is: unfathomable. I know that this show is going to be the biggest ever in professional wrestling, and it’s all down to me. I have revolutionised the entertainment offered by APW on its Asylum show. Who would have thought there would be a whole show dedicated to a ‘Tea Party Challenge’ before I came to APW? Nobody. I am that important and charismatic that I can put the humble cup of tea at the centre of a production and sell it to the fans like it was a date with Sally Talfourd. It’s Rasslemania today and the World Heavyweight Championship tomorrow...well, maybe not tomorrow, or the next day come to think about it....but well, you catch my drift. Remember how I made Christmas Chaos the most exciting event of 2011 by ending Zachary Rodell’s career in APW’s first ever flag match, well after I dump Phil Atken into a bath tub full of tea it will be the most talked about moment for years to come. Nevermind Level-One or Sally Talfourd, I’m the real innovator in these parts and I’ll prove that at Rasslemania.
Reporter 2: We’ve seen your rivalry with Phil Atken develop into a heated confrontation in recent weeks. Is there more to it than a simple disagreement over the preparation of a hot beverage?
Julius: More to it? What the blazes are you talking about old chap? What could be a more pressing matter than how one correctly prepares a cup of tea? Do you think Her Royal Highness Queen Elizabeth II takes a laissez-faire approach to how she drinks her tea? That is the problem with people like you, you have no sense of class and decency. This match is not merely one between a shadow of a man and an immortal warrior, this match is about pride and it is about culture.
Julius: It makes me queasy just to think a man like Phil Atken is allowed to walk around APW and promote that milky horror he calls a cup of tea. I mean, for the love of St. George, how could a man even think of denying a wonderful little tea bag its true infusing potential by clocking its breathing holes with milk. We’re not blazing Indians! We’re English, and quintessentially so at that! We drink our tea in only one way and we’re so bleeding bloody-minded about it that we will not tolerate any other suggestion, and will aggressively crush any such diversity. The only way is the ‘Quintessentially English’ way.
Julius: I’ve tolerated Phil Atken long enough, listening to him is liking having to listen ‘Flower of Scotland’ played on bagpipes for all eternity, I’d sooner drink coffee and spend an afternoon with Michael Callahan than accept that. Every time Phil Atken speaks it is like he is breaking wind on the soul of civilisation; every time he steps into the ring it’s like some rotten pervert has tarmacked the very body of professional wrestling.
Julius: I’m going to Rasslemania to wipe Phil Atken from the face of this earth...or at least to throw him into that bath tub and embarrass him in exactly the same way he tried to embarrass me. Phil Atken calls him ‘The Unfortunate One’, well that epithet will be no truer than the moment I get these ‘Quintessentially English’ Scotch-crushing hands on him.
Reporter 3: What can we expect from a Boston Tea Party Match?
Julius: Do you not listen to a bloody thing I say? The short answer is that Phil Atken will get wet. Now, I love a cup of tea as much as any ‘Quintessentially English’ man, so a bath tub of tea is like a wet dream for me, if you’ll pardon the pun. But my erotic fantasies will have to be put on hold for a couple of weeks because Rasslemania is all about business, and I’m making it my business to give that snivelling Scotchman a damn good thrashing in just the manner Edward I sent the Scots home with tails between their legs after the Battle of Falkirk in 1298.
Reporter 4: My sources suggest you’ve drawn some heat backstage for your antics; there is even some suggestion Reginald Schmidt is ready to transfer you back to Overdrive. What do yo...
Julius: What a completely preposterous question! How dare you insinuate such a madness, you filthy little man! Security get this rogue out of my press conference! Reginald Schmidt adores me, and he adores my ‘Quintessentially English’ ways.
Julius looks directly at the camera.
Julius: Reginald, I know you’re upset, but please answer my calls. I’ve even made you an honorary member of ‘The Quintessentially English Club’; I’ve made you a membership card and...
The press officer coughs to grab Julius’ attention and break this awkward and well...you know....moment. The press officer quickly moves and invites one last question.
As Julius looks around for a raised hand there is none to be found, so he stands up and gestures the press conference is over. All of a sudden there is a shout from the back of the room.
JULIUS!
The Farq, as some refer to him, looks up but cannot react to prevent a water bomb with The Saltire painted on it smashing into his face, soaking him with tea.
HOW D’YA LIKE THEM TEA BAGS, YA INGLASH WANKAH!
The man is some vagabond whose has crawled in from the street, he could just be a mad man, the fact his face is painted a la Mel Gibson from the film Braveheart suggests that he is. Manservant gives pursuit, but Julius Farquhar is left looking embarrassed and dishevelled in front of the world’s media.
The scene fades.
