Post by Jules on Mar 23, 2012 16:09:03 GMT -4
Our scene opens inside a small room containing the following objects: a table, a projector, a screen, a chair...oh, and the world’s only ‘Quintessentially English’ wrestler, the one and only Julius Farquhar. Julius is wearing a very solemn and serious mask. He is looking directly at the camera which he begins to address.
Julius: Ladies and gentlemen of Action Packed Wrestling, I request this evening that you lend me your ears because I have a very important announcement to make.
Julius takes a moment to continue this impression that there is something deep and meaningful that he has to say. He gives it his best melodramatic effort, remembering everything he was taught by his schoolboy drama teacher, a fat greasy man with the effeminate nature and the wandering hands. He always told Julius it was a great big secret and schoolboy Julius enjoyed keeping secrets. Calling up the inspiration of those days of public school short shorts and the thud of the headmaster’s ‘cane’ against his backside, Julius continued in his most heartfelt way.
Julius: Tonight I must say I am sorry. Tonight I must extend an apology to my Rasslemania opponent ‘The Unfortunate’ Phil Atken. I know my recent behaviour towards Phil has been less than gracious. I know he has wanted this match at Rasslemania really badly, and after some heartfelt reflection I know I should never have held him off. Why, I feel like the playground bully who doesn’t let the little retarded kid play cricket. We all know he is never going to score a run, or take a wicket, or doing anything particular useful, but his participation isn’t harming anybody. I have had a chance to think about my conduct, to take stock and look at the deeper meaning of things. I know Phil is Scottish and because of that he will never be ‘Quintessentially English’, but it’s not his fault.
Julius: I know it isn’t Phil’s fault that he doesn’t know how to make tea the correct way, or that he likes to wear a skirt, and finds it amusing to throw logs around with other hairy, overweight men; I know he thinks a pig’s stomach packed with ground sheep’s anus is an appropriate meal to eat, and how he thinks a few grunts and gargles constitutes a unique language. I know there are many things Phil believes are right and proper, but it is not his fault. So I apologise Phil; I apologise from the bottom of my big kind heart.
Julius puts a hand on his heart to gesture that he is very serious about all this apology business.
Julius: Phil, to prove to you just how sorry I am, and as a gesture of good faith, an olive branch if you will, I’ve made a special video presentation to celebrate and honour your heritage. A special video that celebrates Scotland.
Julius sets the projector rolling and as the film starts the promo transforms into this.
*
The video opens up on a panorama that is presumably taken from somewhere in the Scottish Highlands, a landscape of majestic beauty consisting of towering mountains, cool lakes and a poetic sense of mystery.
A voiceover begins, it is the voice of our ‘Quintessentially English’ host doing his best David Attenborough impression.
Scotland...
We’re getting more moody shots of the Scottish landscape. There are a few farm animal botherers coming into view, see how they’re wearing kilts for convenience.
...And land of myth, legend, poetry, music...
The voiceover is cut out by the sound of ...
Bagpipes!
The music is cut out by the voiceover.
Okay, maybe not music. But definitely a land rich in culture...
As the bagpipes play we see a few shots of some local bumpkins prancing about merrily, although not so merrily as a group of Morris dancers, then we see a few fat, ginger blokes swigging whiskey and throwing rocks around for whatever reason entertains their ape-like minds.
This is a land that is steeped in history...
Hadrian’s Wall – a masterpiece of Roman architecture.
Built around A.D. 122 and often thought of as the historical border separating Scotland from England. Built by Roman conquerors of Northern Britain who found the Scottish people so vile and loathsome they just had to shut them out.
The video cuts to a picture of a couple ugly, rotund guys devouring what looks to be a haggis...it is highly disputable whether these pigs are Scottish, but there is no hiding the implication.
Let’s skip forward over a century in time to the early 14th century. The great English overlord King Edward I ‘The Hammer of the Scots’ was trying to do Scotland a favour and make it English, when those bloodthirsty lepers resisted the march of civilisation. Led on by that wicked murderer Mel Gibson...
...These blood-drinking pagans defeated the noble and valiant English forces following some deceitful tactics...and all because they wanted to keep some bridge. The worst thing was that the Scottish actually celebrated this wicked slaughter of upstanding Englishmen: some poet called Dirty Harry wrote a scandalous and lie-ridden poem that vilified the ‘liberators’ from England, and to make matters worse some Jew-hating, homophobe from Australia decides to make a movie about it promoting xenophobia and much social unwellbeing in Scotland.
They called this man a national treasure...well if that’s a the kind of thing they treasure up there, I give fair warning to any civilised, tea-drinking man to stay clear.
The video cuts to a picture of The Saltire (the national flag of Scotland)
So the Scot’s had won their freedom....or at least the right to try and organise their own Christmas party. But then in the early 18th Century dearest Scotland found herself in a spot of bother. She became ambitious, and rather than be satisfied with her humble little Christmas party consisting of Jaffa Cakes and Party Rings, she decided she wanted to organise a Christmas party in the Caribbean. This catastrophe was known as the ‘Darien Scheme’.
In the late 17th Century while trying to set-up a profitable colony in Panama in order to make Scotland a leading world power, the Scottish government failed miserably. Amongst its many chief problems were poor planning, a lack of leadership, a general lack of intelligence in a race of half-breed and incestuous philanderers. The choice of trying to grow bananas and tobacco instead of tea really sums up the incompetence of this venture – who would choose bananas and tobacco over tea? If only the Scottish had learnt the lessons of the East India Trading Company – the world’s finest foreign trade company and a quintessentially English organisation in every way shape and form.
The consequences for bonnie old Scotch-potch was the King of Scotland was forced to come cap in hand to England and beg for charity. England, being the finest and most civilised country in the world, took pity on their ungrateful servants. Everyone knew if Scotland wanted a share of the wealth they had to become English, just like the whole world.
So the Acts of Union of 1707 spared Scotland from destitution and restored its rightful place as an underling of the mighty state of England.
After that Scotland’s history isn’t particularly significant. The Scots made some contributions to the world, but even their better thinkers like David Hume wished they were English. The history since has been one of England repeatedly putting Scotland in its place, and even if a few jolly Scotsmen have a too many whiskeys and starts demanding ‘FREEEEEEDUUUUUUMB!’ – the ungrateful sods – it doesn’t alter that fact that Scotland is and always will be inferior to England.
Even Sean Connery realised this and became the most famous Scot in the world by pretending to be an Englishman...
So this is the history of Scotland and it gives a glimpse to all of my fans around the world of the kind of person I will be facing this Sunday at Rasslemania: a bloodthirsty, whiskey swilling, log throwing, skirt wearing, incestuous half breed incompetent who needs to learn his rightful place in the social hierarchy.
The voiceover fades to a picture of the Union Jack...
Which fades to an image saying...
*
Our scene opens inside what looks to be a wrestling gym with a ring taking centre stage. “Quintessentially English” Julius Farquhar is stood in said ring where we now see an empty bath; there are various jugs of brown-coloured water on the mat. With the first-ever APW Boston Tea Party Match due to take place at Rasslemania in just a few short days it looks like Julius Farquhar is about to cut his final promo for the piece, and it looks like it is going to be bath-tub themed.
Julius: We are entering the twilight Phil, when the day is drawing to a close and the night has come. The time is almost upon us when we finally settle this thing fair and square; when we finally bring down the curtain on this conflict that I know has gripped and divided the entire APW audience. Of course I’m not talking about who is going to walk out with the Undisputed Champion, or whether a couple of APW geriatrics will actually be able to climb out of that cage, or the unsettled issue of which one of Jason Kash and Johnny Knuckles I am going to take the APW World Heavyweight Championship belt from; we are of course talking about that profound issue of who is better: you or I?
Julius looks down and runs his fingers along the lip of the bathtub, he’s obviously going for some kind of dramatic effect; I feel there is some knockout line coming up. After a couple of seconds pause Julius looks up.
Julius: We’re going to settle the issue of who makes the better cup of tea.
Julius narrows his eyes, trying to add to the debate some intensity that just isn’t there.
Julius: We tried to settle this the easy way, the civilised way, but you just had to go and ruin that, didn’t you? Now we are going to enter the field of battle to give some finality to this issue, and when I dump you into that tub full to the brim of tea you are going to know once and for all that you should always add the water and drain off the bag when properly infused; then and only then can you even think of administering some milk.
Julius bends down and picks up a jug that is full with tea, and he empties the contents of the jug into the bath; this is done for no other reason than to remind us all of the stipulation of this match. Oh and in case you’ve forgotten: it’s a Boston Tea Party Match: first man to dump his opponent into a bath tub of tea wins.
Julius: But this is about more than just a cup of tea; this about national superiority. I make no secret of the fact I am the world’s only “Quintessentially English” wrestler, and you could never hide the fact of your heritage. Just one look and you can read barely literate, incestuously conceived, incompetent bag-pipe blower. History teaches us that English and Scots have met on the field of battle many a time, but let me tell you the Battle of Bannockburn was a long time ago Phil. Mel Gibson will not be dropping by to save the day this time.
Julius: One other thing that history teaches us is that England always prevails. How many empires has Scotland had? How many “Quintessentially English” wrestlers has Scotland produced? I shouldn’t have to say anything more. I rest my case. I will beat you at Rasslemania Phil because I was born to beat; it is part of the blood that courses through my veins to dominate you, to grind you into the ground and exhaust you of all your natural resources. Look at the history of England and Scotland and you will see a clear and distinct picture of how you will be destroyed and ripped of any self-esteem you have, so that you will be forced to beg for mere scraps at my mercy.
Julius: The crucial difference, however, is that I will not offer you such mercy, and I will not extend the arm of friendship to you; no dastardly union can be formed between these that will pervert and pollute my Quintessentially English ways. On Sunday you will be the face of Scotland and I will be the face of the “Quintessentially English”, If you want a vision of the future, Phil...
Another pause for dramatic effect.
Julius: ...imagine my boot stamping on your face forever.
Julius picks up another jug of tea, looks at the camera again.
Julius: My empire begins on Sunday, and you Phil Atken will be my first conquest.
Julius empties the jug into the bathtub as the scene fades.
Julius: Ladies and gentlemen of Action Packed Wrestling, I request this evening that you lend me your ears because I have a very important announcement to make.
Julius takes a moment to continue this impression that there is something deep and meaningful that he has to say. He gives it his best melodramatic effort, remembering everything he was taught by his schoolboy drama teacher, a fat greasy man with the effeminate nature and the wandering hands. He always told Julius it was a great big secret and schoolboy Julius enjoyed keeping secrets. Calling up the inspiration of those days of public school short shorts and the thud of the headmaster’s ‘cane’ against his backside, Julius continued in his most heartfelt way.
Julius: Tonight I must say I am sorry. Tonight I must extend an apology to my Rasslemania opponent ‘The Unfortunate’ Phil Atken. I know my recent behaviour towards Phil has been less than gracious. I know he has wanted this match at Rasslemania really badly, and after some heartfelt reflection I know I should never have held him off. Why, I feel like the playground bully who doesn’t let the little retarded kid play cricket. We all know he is never going to score a run, or take a wicket, or doing anything particular useful, but his participation isn’t harming anybody. I have had a chance to think about my conduct, to take stock and look at the deeper meaning of things. I know Phil is Scottish and because of that he will never be ‘Quintessentially English’, but it’s not his fault.
Julius: I know it isn’t Phil’s fault that he doesn’t know how to make tea the correct way, or that he likes to wear a skirt, and finds it amusing to throw logs around with other hairy, overweight men; I know he thinks a pig’s stomach packed with ground sheep’s anus is an appropriate meal to eat, and how he thinks a few grunts and gargles constitutes a unique language. I know there are many things Phil believes are right and proper, but it is not his fault. So I apologise Phil; I apologise from the bottom of my big kind heart.
Julius puts a hand on his heart to gesture that he is very serious about all this apology business.
Julius: Phil, to prove to you just how sorry I am, and as a gesture of good faith, an olive branch if you will, I’ve made a special video presentation to celebrate and honour your heritage. A special video that celebrates Scotland.
Julius sets the projector rolling and as the film starts the promo transforms into this.
*
The video opens up on a panorama that is presumably taken from somewhere in the Scottish Highlands, a landscape of majestic beauty consisting of towering mountains, cool lakes and a poetic sense of mystery.
A voiceover begins, it is the voice of our ‘Quintessentially English’ host doing his best David Attenborough impression.
Scotland...
We’re getting more moody shots of the Scottish landscape. There are a few farm animal botherers coming into view, see how they’re wearing kilts for convenience.
...And land of myth, legend, poetry, music...
The voiceover is cut out by the sound of ...
Bagpipes!
The music is cut out by the voiceover.
Okay, maybe not music. But definitely a land rich in culture...
As the bagpipes play we see a few shots of some local bumpkins prancing about merrily, although not so merrily as a group of Morris dancers, then we see a few fat, ginger blokes swigging whiskey and throwing rocks around for whatever reason entertains their ape-like minds.
This is a land that is steeped in history...
Hadrian’s Wall – a masterpiece of Roman architecture.
Built around A.D. 122 and often thought of as the historical border separating Scotland from England. Built by Roman conquerors of Northern Britain who found the Scottish people so vile and loathsome they just had to shut them out.
The video cuts to a picture of a couple ugly, rotund guys devouring what looks to be a haggis...it is highly disputable whether these pigs are Scottish, but there is no hiding the implication.
Let’s skip forward over a century in time to the early 14th century. The great English overlord King Edward I ‘The Hammer of the Scots’ was trying to do Scotland a favour and make it English, when those bloodthirsty lepers resisted the march of civilisation. Led on by that wicked murderer Mel Gibson...
...These blood-drinking pagans defeated the noble and valiant English forces following some deceitful tactics...and all because they wanted to keep some bridge. The worst thing was that the Scottish actually celebrated this wicked slaughter of upstanding Englishmen: some poet called Dirty Harry wrote a scandalous and lie-ridden poem that vilified the ‘liberators’ from England, and to make matters worse some Jew-hating, homophobe from Australia decides to make a movie about it promoting xenophobia and much social unwellbeing in Scotland.
They called this man a national treasure...well if that’s a the kind of thing they treasure up there, I give fair warning to any civilised, tea-drinking man to stay clear.
The video cuts to a picture of The Saltire (the national flag of Scotland)
So the Scot’s had won their freedom....or at least the right to try and organise their own Christmas party. But then in the early 18th Century dearest Scotland found herself in a spot of bother. She became ambitious, and rather than be satisfied with her humble little Christmas party consisting of Jaffa Cakes and Party Rings, she decided she wanted to organise a Christmas party in the Caribbean. This catastrophe was known as the ‘Darien Scheme’.
In the late 17th Century while trying to set-up a profitable colony in Panama in order to make Scotland a leading world power, the Scottish government failed miserably. Amongst its many chief problems were poor planning, a lack of leadership, a general lack of intelligence in a race of half-breed and incestuous philanderers. The choice of trying to grow bananas and tobacco instead of tea really sums up the incompetence of this venture – who would choose bananas and tobacco over tea? If only the Scottish had learnt the lessons of the East India Trading Company – the world’s finest foreign trade company and a quintessentially English organisation in every way shape and form.
The consequences for bonnie old Scotch-potch was the King of Scotland was forced to come cap in hand to England and beg for charity. England, being the finest and most civilised country in the world, took pity on their ungrateful servants. Everyone knew if Scotland wanted a share of the wealth they had to become English, just like the whole world.
So the Acts of Union of 1707 spared Scotland from destitution and restored its rightful place as an underling of the mighty state of England.
After that Scotland’s history isn’t particularly significant. The Scots made some contributions to the world, but even their better thinkers like David Hume wished they were English. The history since has been one of England repeatedly putting Scotland in its place, and even if a few jolly Scotsmen have a too many whiskeys and starts demanding ‘FREEEEEEDUUUUUUMB!’ – the ungrateful sods – it doesn’t alter that fact that Scotland is and always will be inferior to England.
Even Sean Connery realised this and became the most famous Scot in the world by pretending to be an Englishman...
So this is the history of Scotland and it gives a glimpse to all of my fans around the world of the kind of person I will be facing this Sunday at Rasslemania: a bloodthirsty, whiskey swilling, log throwing, skirt wearing, incestuous half breed incompetent who needs to learn his rightful place in the social hierarchy.
The voiceover fades to a picture of the Union Jack...
Which fades to an image saying...
*
Our scene opens inside what looks to be a wrestling gym with a ring taking centre stage. “Quintessentially English” Julius Farquhar is stood in said ring where we now see an empty bath; there are various jugs of brown-coloured water on the mat. With the first-ever APW Boston Tea Party Match due to take place at Rasslemania in just a few short days it looks like Julius Farquhar is about to cut his final promo for the piece, and it looks like it is going to be bath-tub themed.
Julius: We are entering the twilight Phil, when the day is drawing to a close and the night has come. The time is almost upon us when we finally settle this thing fair and square; when we finally bring down the curtain on this conflict that I know has gripped and divided the entire APW audience. Of course I’m not talking about who is going to walk out with the Undisputed Champion, or whether a couple of APW geriatrics will actually be able to climb out of that cage, or the unsettled issue of which one of Jason Kash and Johnny Knuckles I am going to take the APW World Heavyweight Championship belt from; we are of course talking about that profound issue of who is better: you or I?
Julius looks down and runs his fingers along the lip of the bathtub, he’s obviously going for some kind of dramatic effect; I feel there is some knockout line coming up. After a couple of seconds pause Julius looks up.
Julius: We’re going to settle the issue of who makes the better cup of tea.
Julius narrows his eyes, trying to add to the debate some intensity that just isn’t there.
Julius: We tried to settle this the easy way, the civilised way, but you just had to go and ruin that, didn’t you? Now we are going to enter the field of battle to give some finality to this issue, and when I dump you into that tub full to the brim of tea you are going to know once and for all that you should always add the water and drain off the bag when properly infused; then and only then can you even think of administering some milk.
Julius bends down and picks up a jug that is full with tea, and he empties the contents of the jug into the bath; this is done for no other reason than to remind us all of the stipulation of this match. Oh and in case you’ve forgotten: it’s a Boston Tea Party Match: first man to dump his opponent into a bath tub of tea wins.
Julius: But this is about more than just a cup of tea; this about national superiority. I make no secret of the fact I am the world’s only “Quintessentially English” wrestler, and you could never hide the fact of your heritage. Just one look and you can read barely literate, incestuously conceived, incompetent bag-pipe blower. History teaches us that English and Scots have met on the field of battle many a time, but let me tell you the Battle of Bannockburn was a long time ago Phil. Mel Gibson will not be dropping by to save the day this time.
Julius: One other thing that history teaches us is that England always prevails. How many empires has Scotland had? How many “Quintessentially English” wrestlers has Scotland produced? I shouldn’t have to say anything more. I rest my case. I will beat you at Rasslemania Phil because I was born to beat; it is part of the blood that courses through my veins to dominate you, to grind you into the ground and exhaust you of all your natural resources. Look at the history of England and Scotland and you will see a clear and distinct picture of how you will be destroyed and ripped of any self-esteem you have, so that you will be forced to beg for mere scraps at my mercy.
Julius: The crucial difference, however, is that I will not offer you such mercy, and I will not extend the arm of friendship to you; no dastardly union can be formed between these that will pervert and pollute my Quintessentially English ways. On Sunday you will be the face of Scotland and I will be the face of the “Quintessentially English”, If you want a vision of the future, Phil...
Another pause for dramatic effect.
Julius: ...imagine my boot stamping on your face forever.
Julius picks up another jug of tea, looks at the camera again.
Julius: My empire begins on Sunday, and you Phil Atken will be my first conquest.
Julius empties the jug into the bathtub as the scene fades.
