Post by Delikado on Mar 28, 2012 20:16:19 GMT -4
Dickwad Odious and Unpleasant Child presents
B O S S
“Prologue to Shenanigans”
B O S S
“Prologue to Shenanigans”
Delikado Arena #1593
Miami, Florida
the only major city in the US to be founded by a woman (how hilarious)
BAM! Bright enough for you? It should be, because the sun is out on a beautiful Miami day. Our camera, the POS 1999, which can follow anyone and anything at any time without anyone noticing it AT ALL, is currently glued to the outside portion of the area belonging to Delikado, Cuban extraordinaire. A jeep pulls up outside the mildly busy arena and comes to a stop just short of the curb and a small child’s foot. The backdoor is pulled open (hot) and a man climbs out, staring briefly at the drool-spilling, ice-cream carrying, and noisy pinwheel in his hair wearing child with a look of “Good god what is that? Kill it with torture and fire now…oh wait, human child. Nevermind.”, before he slams the door and motions to the jeep driver to go on around to the backside of the building (still hot, kinda). The man is none other than Delikado…’s Distant Cousin’s Sister’s Fiancée’s Twice-Removed Step-Brother’s Half-Uncle on his Mother’s side: Muere al Final de Esta-Escena. The quasi-Cuban’s eyes narrow as the jeep drives away and he turns to the arena that he presently runs for his…okay, we’ll just say relative, Delikado, who is elsewhere doing other stuff. He glances at the kid again, getting a little peeved at the staring runt.
Esta-Escena: What are you looking at?
SMACK
He smacks the kid’s ice cream out of his hand! The horrified boy’s jaw drops as he stares at his lonely palm. What ever will he do with that empty hand!?!? Esta-Escena just glares for a moment longer before he walks away. He then turns his head as two figures approach him, his staffers. They both smile respectfully at their superior as he approaches them.
Staffer: Mr. Muere, how are you today, sir?
Esta-Escena walks in-between the staffers toward the arena, grumbling to himself.
Esta-Escena: Bah. I was doing peachy on the beach with the sand and beautiful titties before you all sent out that summons for me. There is no sand here, or titties! Just gravel and the man-boobs of you employees I only emotionally care for slightly!
Staffer: So slightly indeed; we’re sorry, sir, and we continue to starve ourselves as punishment. However, it is not without reasons of importance that you were summoned.
The three amigos continue walking to the arena, passing the front gate and reaching a checkpoint to where tickets are checked. They pass by the deserted area without any trouble. Esta-Escena scoffs at his staffer’s comment.
Esta-Escena: “Reasons of importance?” There is nothing in this arena that is better than the Miami club and beach life unless…
Esta-Escena’s eyes widen with a sudden change of thought. He stops and turns to his staffers with a look of question in his face.
Esta-Escena: Did you…did you turn the arena core into a strip club?! At long last, are things changing for the better?!
Staffer: No, no strip clubs, sir.
Esta-Escena’s face crunches into a frown as he waves a bitter hand of dismissal.
Esta-Escena: Bitch-in-my-eye, then fuck it. This is shit and there’s no reason of importance here that excites me more than a banana in my mouth and luscious melons on my cheeks!
Staffer: Well, err…indeed, sir. But there was a message sent here to the arena ownership committee about a certain “Action Packed Wrestling” company and your Half-Nephew’s Step-Son’s Twice-Removed Son-to-be of your Niece’s Cousin from Afar. The committee was insisting that you be here for the review of the paperwork assemblage.
Esta-Escena: *mumbling* I hate this place…*grumble*…bitches…*mumble*boobs…
Just then, the POS 1999 slowly focuses on a group of relatively dark skinned men wearing heavy uniforms of green, white, and red. They are all very serious and mean looking with their thick beards and even darker eyes.
Iranians.
Their turbaned heads turn to the approaching Esta-Escena and his staffers. Esta-Escena’s eyes narrow in hesitant confusion.
Head Iranian: *bowing* Sayın Bossman. Greetings.
Esta-Escena’s eyes remain wide as he and his men walk past the Iranians. The Iranians themselves watch the three leave with unreadable faces, like a book with no…pages…because that’s how an unreadable book is.
Esta-Escena: *muttering to staffer* Did he just call me a Super Saiyan?
Staffer: Uh……no?
Esta-Escena: Figures. Dirty Iranian douche. No respect.
Staffer: Well, sir, the Iranians ARE another topic of which the committee wants to speak to you about personally.
The group continues walking in silence now. The POS 1999 pans around to reveal that only a few sparsely populated areas of the arena are visible. Suddenly, the camera focuses on the background…revealing the original set of Iranians, as well as a multitude of others, are now following in the distance. A whole ocean of green, white, and red, closing in on the Cuban and his staffers. Esta-Escena acts like everything is awesome and that he totally isn’t about to be set up to be prison raped like a sorrowful bitch. His staffers noticeably quicken their steps ahead of their boss, but Esta-Escena fails to really catch on to this fact. The trio ascends the stairs and Esta-Escena uses this moment to flash a glance down the steps to the Iranians, who are walking in their direction with obvious intent. Shit’s getting real, yo. Esta-Escena slows down for a fraction of a second, while his staffers reach the top of the stairs and quickly turn a corner, vanishing from view.
Esta-Escena looks back up to the top of the stairs to find more Iranians have appeared and loom over him like a bunch of Allah-worshipping Darth Vaders. Esta-Escena barely has time to stop himself from crashing into these new Iranians.
Iranian:*terrorist war-cry* BLAH BLAH RABBA RABBA FLUBBA FLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!
The Iranians lunge for Esta-Escena, who instead flings himself over the rail to the floor below. He lands hard on his back and cries out like a girl.
Esta-Escena: OW! MY SPINE! WHAT A HORRIBLE SITUATION I AM IN!!!!
Suddenly, a random douchebag in critical clothing walks by and examines our fallen side character. He offers a fake frown of sympathy and rubs his eyes like he’s weeping.
Douchebag Critic: “Ooh, look at me, my spiiiiine! Oh no, it’s brooooooken! It’s totally broooooken. Waaah, crying about I dooooo.” First world problem.[/u][/b][/color]
The douche leaves after that. Esta-Escena lifts himself upward and stumbles forward as fast as he can on his injured body. The Iranians all reach into their towels and pull out swords!
Iranian Crowd: *war-cry* LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL!!!
While this battle screech echoes throughout the arena, Esta-Escena hightails it out the front door. He looks over his shoulder to see a tidal wave of heavily-robed psychos chasing him down with their swords held high.
Esta-Escena: *gasp* Must…use…spine…to run. Run…to…boobs!
He makes it outside and continues hobbling away. Behind him the Iranians close in in a “you’d shit your pants if this was happening to you” type of way. Esta-Escena runs to his jeep parked in the lot nearby and climbs in with a groan. He looks back momentarily…finding that the Iranians have completely stopped chasing him. They’re just standing there. Watching.
Esta-Escena: Woooooooot! I made it, now DRIVE, motherfucker! Take me back to my bitches and I’ll sort this mess out with The Boss!
The driver slowly turns his head to reveal he’s wearing a hijab. When he goes to remove it, we find out that the driver…
OH MY GOD IT’S AN IRANIAN DILOPHOSAURUS!!!
Esta-Escena’s eyes go wide as he poops himself metaphorically…and literally. The Iranian Dilophosaurus hisses at him like a rattle-snake and then bellows menacingly as he retracts his green, white, and red neck-frill outward and then spits goo onto Esta-Escena’s face.
Esta-Escena: GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! IT’S IN MY MOUTH!!! GOBBLE GOBBLE! WHY DO I KEEP TALKING IF IT’S IN MY MOOOOOUTH?!?! GOBBLE-GOBBLE--*insert drowning sounds*
As the Iranian Dilophosaurus continues hissing at Esta-Escena, he rips open his heavy Thobe to reveal explosives!!! REAL ONES!!! Esta-Escena wipes some of the goo out of his eyes in time to see this.
Esta-Escena: Oh no.
The explosives are activated.
Iranian Dilophosaurus: AAAALLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!
Esta-Escena: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!
Iranian Dilophosaurus: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!
Esta-Escena: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!
Iranian Dilophosaurus: AAAAAAAAAAH!
Esta-Escena: AAAAAH!
Iranian Dilophosaurus: AAAH!!
Esta-Escena: AAH!
Iranian Dilophosaurus: Alright, that’s enough of that.
Esta-Escena: Aw!
The jeep explodes into, like, a bajillion pieces as the bombs go off, destroying both passengers in a blaze of pretty colors. This is more or less the reaction of everyone who sees the sight:
And with that ends the Miami sand-enjoying, boobie-admiring Muere al Final de Esta-Escena, truly a character nobody expected this to happen to. The Iranians walk over to the flaming vehicle and just stare at each other in silence for a few seconds.
Iranian #1: Oh crap…Dilopho KILLED a dude!
Iranian #2: I know, right?! He actually did it, that dog!
The Iranians go out of character some more by high-fiving and laughing before the moment passes and they snap back into their original design as evil and malicious and ugly and…and anti-good. Yes, smooth save. The group turns and walks away from the sight as the unharmed POS 1999 slowly turns and freezes on the exploded jeep. Suddenly, a rumbling is heard as Esta-Escena’s burned body slumps out from the jeep a little and he looks around weakly.
Esta-Escena: Help…help me……ow! Dying…
And indeed, someone does walk up to Esta-Escena upon hearing his cries: the boy whose ice cream he destroyed. The boy stares blankly at Esta-Escena’s silently begging face…
SMACK
And he smacks Esta-Escena in the head with his pinwheel! This proves to be enough to finish the job, as Esta-Escena slumps over and dies. (HA, WHAT A WIMP! HE DIED BY A PINWHEEL, THE WEAK LITTLE…oh wait…*ahem* unbiased.) The boy turns and happily frolics away from the wreckage as the POS 1999 pulls back and slowly fades to black.[/font][/size]
~ With this…our story begins.~
