I really want that trident (Curtis RP 1 of 1, Supremacy)
Jan 27, 2021 22:13:40 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Dave D-Flipz, and 4 more like this
Post by Curtis D. Kanyon on Jan 27, 2021 22:13:40 GMT -5
**White House. January 20th. Day time.**
*Curtis Kanyon is seen holding a hobo bindle over his shoulder as he stares at the White House. A tear streams down his cheek.*
: BUUUUUUUURP! Well, we had a good run.
*VP Ron Gibson stands next to him and scrunches up his now empty beer can, because obviously he’s drinking, and tosses it on the lawn.*
: We sure did buddy. We took over from a tumultuous and somehow crazier than me President, and we turned this country around. We rose to the top of the Paris Agreement club, we brought so many jobs to so many Americans, I had an incredibly quiet and peaceful winter of 2019, we murdered some Murder Hornets, ‘Rona fucked up the world but we kept the ship afloat, the dead President showed up as a zombie candidate somehow that I won’t even get into, and we even stopped that zombie miser’s terrorist Capitol riot.
: That was a fun day.
: I remember it like it was two weeks ago…
**Wavey sitcom flashback lines.
The Capitol. January 6th. Afternoon.**
*Terrorists, yeah, that’s fucking right, I said terrorists, are storming the capital. We seem to hear the conversation of the closest three on the outer perimeter of the mob trying to shove their way into the building.*
: They took our jobs!
: Dey-tuk-er-jerbs!
: Really guys? South Park references? What is this, 1997 through 2009? So passé.
: No man, we’re trying to get back to 1862, when America was great. That’s why I’m going to plant this Confederate flag in that building!
: I don’t know history, but that is just like my four fathers wanted! Literally, I have four fathers, Pa, Grandpa, Pops, and Great Grand-papi. Although two of them are the same guy.
: Despite your fucked up family tree, I cannot allow you to enter!
*All the rioters turn around to see President Curtis D. Kanyon standing at the bottom of the stairs, with sledge hammer in hand. Some rioters are already laying on the floor behind him. Secret Service members seem to be tied up with other terrorists around the area.*
: Well goll-ee-jeepers! Look who we gots here!
: Indubitably! What a rather peculiar thing for you to do Mr. Soon-to-be Not My President! Showing yourself in our general periphery by your lonesome, without your armed cronies.
: I understood that other guy, not you. But, who said I was here alone?
*Another rioter falls at the feet of the mob as Ron Gibson stands next to Curtis D. Kanyon, folding chair in hand. Curtis looks at it with confusion.*
: What? You can’t go wrong with the classics.
: Ron! You of all people should be with us! You literally had a manager named Mr. Slave!
: That was a South Park reference.
: Still passé.
: No it wasn’t.
: Shut up, we’re leaving that in the past.
: You guys also lynched people! Just like we want to do!
: People that deserved it. To think you can only lynch one type of person, that’s fucking racist man.
: What? I’m not racist.
*The terrorist tries to hide his Confederate flag to no avail.*
: I just returned to wrestling, so I could use the warm up.
: That reminds me, I need to talk to you about that. But after this.
: For King and Country!
: Uh, dude?
: Right, I mean, just for Country!
*Curtis and Ron charge into the mob with their weapons in hand, and what follows suit is carnage and violence of the highest order, just short of actual murder. Because murder is bad m’kay. Dirty Deal rides again, sending terrorist ass hats left and right with the sledgehammer and the chair in such vile and, frankly, dirty ways, that I can’t even describe it to you. Eventually, their weapons are too soaked in blood as dozens of these slime balls have been laid out, that Dirty Deal has to throw them away and start throwing fists!*
: Hey now, I-I-I think there was a miss understa--
*Curtis dives for a BANG! while Ron hit’s the clothesline to the back of the head, it’s a Dirty Deeds! That man is broken in half! Ron and Curtis continue beating people away from the Capitol as the rest of the crowd realizes what is going on and starts fleeing, because they’re pussy ass cowards. The beating goes on and on for minutes on end. Eventually, all the terrorist have either fled, or are on the ground, moaning in pain, as Curtis and Ron are the only two left standing. Breathing heavy, the two men sit on top of piles of beaten humans.*
: Oh man, *huff* I needed that. Got some *huff* good cardio in this cold winter air.
: It’s-huh it’s been awhile since I’ve beaten up-huh, beaten up anyone… other than my wife.
*Uncomfortable silence.*
: Heh. Heh heh. Ha ha ha ha!
: Bah ha ha ha!
*The two men laugh as the scene gets wavey.*
**Wavey sitcom flashback lines.
Back at the White House front lawn. January 20th. Still day time.**
: That was fun.
: I can’t believe we ended that bit on a spousal abuse joke.
: Well, we’re dirty. That reminds me, I was high on violence and forgot to ask, what the hell you doing tag teaming again?
: What? I needed a way back in and I saw a free tag team title to take. Don’t worry, I already defended it, so that should take care of any losers telling me I don’t’ deserve the belt.
: I don’t care about that, I care about not bringing me with you!
: I’ve tagged with others before. I’m sorry man, I thought you were retired.
: I am, just would’ve been nice to be asked is all.
: Want to join in on the Super Hyperion Invitational Trident match?
: Nah man, I’m retired, you know that. Plus, I don’t want to be in that S.H.I.T.
: That’s cool man, more S.H.I.T. for me.
: Well… I guess it’s time to mosey on out of here. I’ll see you down the road brother.
*Ron pats Curtis on the back, then turns around and walks into his RV. Curtis continues to look at the White House as Ron starts up the RV. Tons of smog come out of his tailpipe as he drives away.*
: Goodbye sweet home…
**Fade out.
Fade in. The Capitol. January 21st. Morning.**
*Once again, at the Capitol, this time, a much different scene. All the blood has been scrubbed out of the walls, or painted over, and the Inauguration is about to be under way. Curtis is sitting in his seat.*
: So then, Copycat was about to shoot me. Me! But my old Team B.A.N.G. buddy knew who I was and shot the look-a-like instead. Secret service arrested him after the cameras left, but I pardoned him immediately.
*The camera pulls back to reveal that President Curtis is talking to Bernie Sanders! But wait, Bernie is asleep in his chair, in an image that you know all too well, so I’m not even going to bother and rather rely on the theater of the mind… but this is video, so you see it, I don’t know what I’m talking about. Anyway… Curtis is using Bernie’s folded arms as a phone holder, as his wife is on screen.*
: Sorry dear, with my duties in JROK, I can’t be there with you today due to quarantine.
: It’s okay babe, we need you to stay safe from the Murder Hornets anyway.
: You know they originated from over here, don’t you?
: No! Run honey! Get out of there!
: Sweetie, I’m fine. I just wish I could be with you as you pass the torch to the next guy.
: I know, but the less people the better, right? So how’s it all going over there anyway?
: Doing good, just working my way toward another X*Crown title shot. I’ll win it someday.
: I know you will babe. I’m in a match for a trident!
: You would be. What are they doing at Fireside that needs tridents?
: Oh no, this isn’t Fireside. You see, that false god Hyperion has put up his personal trident. And in the name of Thor, I need to win that thing and end his false idolship once and for all.
: I understand you not liking other gods, but I never understood your fascination with ending the worship of Hyperion. Who cares what he identifies as?
: Because he ain’t no deity! He can identify as anything else he wants to, but a god to be worshipped is where I draw the line. He is but a man. No deities would waste their time hanging with us mortals so much. It’s bullshit!
*All the other former presidents and their first ladies stop talking and look at Curtis.*
: What are you looking at!? Don’t worry, I’ll shut up for the show.
: So you are fighting Hyperion for this trident then?
: Not just him. Thor wouldn’t want my struggle to be so easy. No, there are quite a few extra people added to the mix. I’m fighting my buddy Copycat as mentioned earlier. And I’m fighting the guy who frees us from the Matrix, a horror movie director, and a former defensive tackle for the Jacksonville Jaguars!
: Who are all these guys?
: Exactly! Who are they? If you can’t figure out which is which, why should I have to? As far as I am concerned, they’re all just collateral damage. This match is Godzilla vs. King Kong with myself and Hyperion as far as I’m concerned. The rest of these guys are the citizens on the ground just trying to avoid being stomped out. Copycat knows better, but the rest, they will learn real quick to get out of-- oh man. Hold on honey, one of them old badgers are walking over.
: Hey there President Kanyon, I know you like to party, so I wanted to slip you this.
*President Clinton hands President Kanyon a flyer. Curtis opens it up to reveal a big sexy picture of Hyperion, and a message that reads “Presidential Party, celebrate the inauguration of a real president at my mansion. Details on my Insta: @sexiestgodhyperion”*
: Pfft, we all know Thor is the sexiest. Wait a minute, this party invite is literally dissing me!
: Who cares, chicks will be there man. Hey, who’s the hot piece on the mini TV?
: YOU STAY AWAY FROM MY WIFE!
*Curtis snatches the tablet from the sleeping Bernie.*
: I can’t let his sexual gaze compel you to go to him my dear! I need to turn this off! Love you!
: Love yo--
*Curtis shuts off the tablet.*
: Whew, that was close.
: You ever consider a wife swap?
*Curtis shudders.*
: I’m going to sit over there…
*Curtis gets up and shuffles away.*
: How about you Bernie? You asleep buddy? Bet those mittens are warm…
*Clinton starts to reach over to the sleeping Bernie as the scene fades.*
**Fade out.
Fade in. Hyperion Mansion. Exterior. January 21st. Night Time.**
*Inside the limo of now former President Curtis D. Kanyon we see that it’s pulling up to the front of the mansion. People are partying on the lawn. Kanyon puts on a trench coat and sunglasses. Then places a fake mustache on.*
: They’ll never suspect a thing!
*Curtis exits the car and the camera follows.*
: Hey there Curtis!
: Son of a--!
*The crowd starts chanting, “BANG! BANG! BANG!”*
: Well, when in Rome…
*In one swift motion, Curtis flings off his coat, glasses, and sweet ‘stash! He then grabs the beer from out of President Bush’s hand and starts chugging.*
: Dude!?
: It’s cool, I’m vaccinated.
*Curtis tosses the butt of the beer in Bush’s face.*
: That’s for narc’ing on me square.
: Me, a narc? That’s impossibibal!
*Curtis walks into the mansion, grabbing another random beer as he does.*
**Fade out.
Fade in Hyperion Mansion. Interior. January 22nd. Night time.*
*It’s now well into the night, the party has died down, there’s passed out people everywhere. President Kanyon and President Bush are staring at each other from across a small standing table. A shot glass in front of each of them. Curtis pours each a shot of Jack.*
: Number -hic- fourty… three Bushie boy! Think you can handle it?
: Fourty three ish my lucky number.
: Did I ever tell you you remind me of an old boss?
: Multiple timesh. Shhhut up and drink partner! Ready… shet… draw!
*At his command, they both shoot the alcohol into their respective mouths. Then they stare at each other as it travels to their tummies.*
: Number -hic- fourty… four Bushi boy! Think you can handle it?
: Fourth four ish--
*Bush suddenly freezes, and then falls over.*
: Fina-hic-lly. Everyone is down… now is my time. I’m -hic- really going to make them rue the day that they made this unlimited. Wait, Hyperion did that… -hic- wait, who am I talking to… -hic- wait, is Hyperion the Limburg baby? I spent all this time here, -hic- and I didn’t even see that son of a bitch! I’mma find him, I’mma find him and beat him up for insulting me in a flyer, and for claiming to be a god, and for having a trident, and for being so sexy, and for trying to have better hair than me, and… wait, who -hic- am I here for again?
: *from the ground* Hyperperiod.
: Yes! Thank you!
*Curtis stumbles away from the table and staggers to the stairs nearby. He holds onto the side rail for dear life, like a 70 year old man in a wind storm, and climbs his way up as if he was climbing Mount Everest. After a minute of this, he makes it to the top and peaks his head into a room, then another, then another. Until finally, he likes what he sees and walks in. He pops his head out of the door and looks at the camera.*
: Be vewy vewy quiet. I’m hunting false gods. …-hic- Get it… it’s an Esmer Fudd joke. Sorry, that was terrible. But now let’s Mongo inside. I swear, I won’t von Krauss you camera man. ...Dylan Black.
*Curtis winks to the camera and then let’s the camera man enter the room behind him.*
: Shhhhh.
*Once inside, we see Hyperion knocked out and snoring in bed, in between two ladies. Above his bed is none other than THE TRIDENT! Curtis gasps and points at it. He gets so excited, he elbows a trophy case next to him. “CLANG!” Curtis quickly stops in his tracks and freezes in place. But nothing happens. Hyperion and the ladies are still asleep. Curtis gets drunkenly giddy again.*
: This is great, he’s knocked out! I can take it. So bright... so beautiful... our precious. Hyperion should be resting, Hyperion needs to keep up his strength.
*Curtis reaches for the trident.*
: NO! I shouldn’t. I can’t. I need to win it. I need to hold it above me in victory. You hear me you beautiful sleeping angel? Thor’s vengeance demands that I win your weapon on the battlefield for the world to see! I prove you are no match for him by the fact that you are no match for me. I prove you are truly no god to be worshiped, though you are chiseled like one. You fight hard, the battle will be glorious, there is no doubt. But it is not your day to win. No sir. No no no my frienemy… not at all…
*Curtis looks up at the trident again.*
: I must admit, it is glorious. Not as glorious as Mjölnir mind you, but what is? I will take it from you in battle Hyperion, the way a conqueror is meant to…
*Curtis pushes some stuff off the nearby night stand and pushes it toward the bed. He then climbs it and gets a closer look at the trident. He almost loses his balance falling on the bed, but catches himself. He then looks at the trident again, touching the handle, almost sexually. He starts singing to the trident.*
: I really, really, really, really, really, really like you
And I want you, do you want me, do you want me, too?
I really, really, really, really, really, really like you
And I want you, do you want me, do you want me, too?
Oh, did I say too much?
I'm so in my head
When we're out of touch
I really, really, really, really, really, really like you
And I want you, do you want me, do you want me, too?
*Curtis suddenly snaps out of it, no longer mesmerized by the trident. But still in a drunken haze. He climbs down from the night stand.*
: No. There must be some spell on it. It’s far too dangerous in Hyperion’s hands. I need to take care of this weapon of mass destruction. I’m a former President, only someone like me has the training to handle that thing. I can’t let Keanu win it, or Daryl, or Ellen, and definitely not Copycat. And I certainly can’t let you keep it Hyperion.
*He looks over at Hyperion, who’s still snoring away. Curtis sits down in a chair next to a small table. He puts his head in his hands, trying to stay up.*
: What a war it shall be… I know that... *yawn* they’ll have trouble… keeping the building standing… when we’re… we’re… zzzzz…
*Curtis starts to doze off. But then sits up.*
: What!? Where!? Oh, right. No, stay awake. I will not sleep with my enemy! Not making that mistake again. Oh… what’s this?
*Curtis notices something on the table. It’s a white powdery substance set in lines? With a note next to them. Curtis starts to read.*
: “Debbie’s wake up nose powder, totally her’s, I mean mine, and not belonging to anyone, especially wrestlers of the XHF Network.” Oh, fantastic, I need to wake up! When in Rome!
*Curtis grabs a nearby straw as the camera goes behind him. We here a sniff, but we don’t see anything because Curtis’s body is in the way, so who knows what’s happening.*
: Oh wow! That reminds me of-- oh boy! It’s already kicking in!
*Curtis turns to the camera and his eyes are wider than ever!*
: Awwww here it goes!
**Fade out.
Fade in. Parts Unknown. Date Unknown.**
*Curtis is falling through a psychedelic prism, when suddenly…
(click me to find out what suddenly happened!)
Go to the link before moving on.
...
Seriously the next part won’t make sense without out.
...
Speaking of things that don't make sense but are great, have you been watching Wandavision? Holy shit is it good!
...
Not sure if this linked detour counted as part of the promo or not, but Curtis is tripping right now, so he probably doesn’t care.
...
You sure you followed the link and are ready to continue now? Great! We see Curtis flinging back through the psychedelic prism and he flies into the camera until it goes black.*
**Fade out.
Cut in. Not sure where.**
*We see a grassy field. Suddenly, Curtis sits up into frame.*
: Holy sheeeeet. That was intense! Now… where the fuck am I?
*The camera zooms out above Curtis to reveal he’s in the middle of a snowy field.*
**Anchorage, Alaska. Daytime. January 26th.**
: Ah, there we are thanks! Fuck it’s cold. Also… where did all those days go?
: President Kanyon!
: What the what? Secret service agent Jim? What are you doing here?
: You’re a former President man! You still get secret service detail. I was supposed to go over all this with you, but you left the inauguration to go party hoping!
: Great, but how did you find me?
: You’re still tagged.
: I was tagged?
: Forget I said anything. Anyway, let’s get you cleaned up, your match is in a few days and you’re already in Alaska. Let’s get you ready for your Trident match!
: Yes! I need to call back to my Super Hyperion Invitational Trident joke.
: Shit.
: Exactly! Anyway, let’s start getting ready now!
*”Gonna Fly Now” from the Rocky movies starts playing as Kanyons starts running in the snow. After about fifteen seconds, Curtis stops and bends over huffing and puffing, then falls over and the music scratches to a halt.*
: Man, you just got off a four day trip and woke up in the snow, you ain’t in any condition to montage right now! Curtis? Curtis? Aw man, I’mma have to carry his ass.
**Fade out.
Fade in. The Marriott. Anchorage Alaska. January 26th. Night.**
*We see Curtis sitting by the fireplace, drinking a hot chocolate, plaid blanket over his lap. Curtis looks at the camera.*
: This is nice. I needed this. I thought about showing y’all my conditioning in a montage to be filmed tomorrow, but no. I don’t want Hyperion to see what I’m doing to get ready. I don’t want those other losers to know either. I will be the last man standing, and none of you will see how or why I am so confident in that. But just know, I am the former President. I’m also the Innovator of Violence. I’m also the World Breaker and the Archangel. I’ve had many names in this business. But they all boil down to one thing, that I’m the baddest bitch in the building. Last Man Standing rules just gives me carte blanche to maim and massacre you all in any way that I see fit. I walk to the ring with a sledgehammer for crying out loud, you know it only goes up from there! I get to slam, smack, and hopefully dismember so many people. It’s great. I get to let loose and get out all this frustration from all this election losing and peaceful transitioning and insurrectionist assholes.
*Curtis takes a sip of his cocoa.*
: I don’t mean to downplay all my other opponents, but let’s face it, we’re all here for Hyperion’s trident. He’s the one who claims to be a god, spitting in the face of Thor and all the other true gods with that sort of speak. Hyperion has gone too long unchecked, and I for one refuse to let that continue. I will hit him again, and again, and again until he falls down and stays down. I assume on the way to that goal, the rest of you will fall. Sorry, it’s just business.
*Curtis slurps again.*
: And to the man without whom this match wouldn’t be possible, Hyperion. What more is there to say bud? I’m ready for your S.H.I.T. Heh, worked it in again. I’m ready for the beating that will come from you. The war that will rage between us will be legendary! I will make Thor proud, and hope to even gain a viewing from the eye of the All-Father, Odin himself. I know they will want to see me prove your falsehoods. And I want to beat you, and carry that sexy ass trident. ...And be victorious, as well as all that violence I want to do as previously mentioned. I respect you Hyperion, because you will be a worthy opponent who will actually give me a challenge. But I will give no quarter. I want the trident, but even more so, I want the legend on my way to the trident to be told for generations to come! I know you won’t go down easy, but you will go down when you feel… the… BANG!
*Curtis almost spills his cocoa, then takes another sip.*
: Ah, that felt good, I was waiting all promo to say that. I was on the edge the whole damn time. Nothing like playing the edging game. Tootles.
*The scene starts to fade. But wait!*
: Did you really think you’d get through this without seeing me!
: Holy cow! It’s the Barrack!
: How’s it going bud!
*Kanyons stands up to greet Obama and they do a black man handshake.*
: I think the last time I saw you was NCW wasn’t it?
: Oy, don’t remind me. Recent bad experience. I suppose it would make sense for me to see you too. All the other living presidents were in this promo. Except Carter.
: Yeah, for obvious reasons.
: Oldness.
: No, COVID restrictions.
: Oh yeah, that reminds me, I don’t know where I was for the last four days, you should probably get tested. And I was at a party before that.
: You are one crazy mother fucker, you know that.
: I’ve heard.
: Don’t tell Joe, but if you had just run as a Dem, you could have still been President.
: Yeah… but Whig Party, I mean, it was low hanging fruit.
: You do you brother, you always have. Just wanted to pop by and wish you luck. Not like you need it.
: Thanks man, I appreciate it.
: Not to mention the thing Hyperion said about you mother.
: What?
: And your wife and kids.
: That son of a bitch! He said things!?
: He’s Hyperion, what did you expect?
*Curtis throws his mug at the fireplace, shattering it to pieces.*
: Oh no, he does not get away with that. It was on before, but now… now it’s extra on!
: On like Donky Kong.
: Yes, very much on like that! I need to gets to planning a massacre! Thanks Obama!
*Curtis storms off.*
: Heh heh, I love stirring up the shit.
**Fade out.**
*Curtis Kanyon is seen holding a hobo bindle over his shoulder as he stares at the White House. A tear streams down his cheek.*
: BUUUUUUUURP! Well, we had a good run.*VP Ron Gibson stands next to him and scrunches up his now empty beer can, because obviously he’s drinking, and tosses it on the lawn.*
: We sure did buddy. We took over from a tumultuous and somehow crazier than me President, and we turned this country around. We rose to the top of the Paris Agreement club, we brought so many jobs to so many Americans, I had an incredibly quiet and peaceful winter of 2019, we murdered some Murder Hornets, ‘Rona fucked up the world but we kept the ship afloat, the dead President showed up as a zombie candidate somehow that I won’t even get into, and we even stopped that zombie miser’s terrorist Capitol riot.: That was a fun day.: I remember it like it was two weeks ago…**Wavey sitcom flashback lines.
The Capitol. January 6th. Afternoon.**
*Terrorists, yeah, that’s fucking right, I said terrorists, are storming the capital. We seem to hear the conversation of the closest three on the outer perimeter of the mob trying to shove their way into the building.*
: They took our jobs!: Dey-tuk-er-jerbs!: Really guys? South Park references? What is this, 1997 through 2009? So passé.: No man, we’re trying to get back to 1862, when America was great. That’s why I’m going to plant this Confederate flag in that building!: I don’t know history, but that is just like my four fathers wanted! Literally, I have four fathers, Pa, Grandpa, Pops, and Great Grand-papi. Although two of them are the same guy.: Despite your fucked up family tree, I cannot allow you to enter!*All the rioters turn around to see President Curtis D. Kanyon standing at the bottom of the stairs, with sledge hammer in hand. Some rioters are already laying on the floor behind him. Secret Service members seem to be tied up with other terrorists around the area.*
: Well goll-ee-jeepers! Look who we gots here!: Indubitably! What a rather peculiar thing for you to do Mr. Soon-to-be Not My President! Showing yourself in our general periphery by your lonesome, without your armed cronies.: I understood that other guy, not you. But, who said I was here alone?*Another rioter falls at the feet of the mob as Ron Gibson stands next to Curtis D. Kanyon, folding chair in hand. Curtis looks at it with confusion.*
: What? You can’t go wrong with the classics.: Ron! You of all people should be with us! You literally had a manager named Mr. Slave!: That was a South Park reference.: Still passé.: No it wasn’t.: Shut up, we’re leaving that in the past.: You guys also lynched people! Just like we want to do!: People that deserved it. To think you can only lynch one type of person, that’s fucking racist man.: What? I’m not racist.*The terrorist tries to hide his Confederate flag to no avail.*
: I just returned to wrestling, so I could use the warm up.: That reminds me, I need to talk to you about that. But after this.: For King and Country!: Uh, dude?: Right, I mean, just for Country!*Curtis and Ron charge into the mob with their weapons in hand, and what follows suit is carnage and violence of the highest order, just short of actual murder. Because murder is bad m’kay. Dirty Deal rides again, sending terrorist ass hats left and right with the sledgehammer and the chair in such vile and, frankly, dirty ways, that I can’t even describe it to you. Eventually, their weapons are too soaked in blood as dozens of these slime balls have been laid out, that Dirty Deal has to throw them away and start throwing fists!*
: Hey now, I-I-I think there was a miss understa--*Curtis dives for a BANG! while Ron hit’s the clothesline to the back of the head, it’s a Dirty Deeds! That man is broken in half! Ron and Curtis continue beating people away from the Capitol as the rest of the crowd realizes what is going on and starts fleeing, because they’re pussy ass cowards. The beating goes on and on for minutes on end. Eventually, all the terrorist have either fled, or are on the ground, moaning in pain, as Curtis and Ron are the only two left standing. Breathing heavy, the two men sit on top of piles of beaten humans.*
: Oh man, *huff* I needed that. Got some *huff* good cardio in this cold winter air.: It’s-huh it’s been awhile since I’ve beaten up-huh, beaten up anyone… other than my wife.*Uncomfortable silence.*
: Heh. Heh heh. Ha ha ha ha!: Bah ha ha ha!*The two men laugh as the scene gets wavey.*
**Wavey sitcom flashback lines.
Back at the White House front lawn. January 20th. Still day time.**
: That was fun. : I can’t believe we ended that bit on a spousal abuse joke.: Well, we’re dirty. That reminds me, I was high on violence and forgot to ask, what the hell you doing tag teaming again?: What? I needed a way back in and I saw a free tag team title to take. Don’t worry, I already defended it, so that should take care of any losers telling me I don’t’ deserve the belt.: I don’t care about that, I care about not bringing me with you!: I’ve tagged with others before. I’m sorry man, I thought you were retired.: I am, just would’ve been nice to be asked is all.: Want to join in on the Super Hyperion Invitational Trident match?: Nah man, I’m retired, you know that. Plus, I don’t want to be in that S.H.I.T.: That’s cool man, more S.H.I.T. for me.: Well… I guess it’s time to mosey on out of here. I’ll see you down the road brother.*Ron pats Curtis on the back, then turns around and walks into his RV. Curtis continues to look at the White House as Ron starts up the RV. Tons of smog come out of his tailpipe as he drives away.*
: Goodbye sweet home…**Fade out.
Fade in. The Capitol. January 21st. Morning.**
*Once again, at the Capitol, this time, a much different scene. All the blood has been scrubbed out of the walls, or painted over, and the Inauguration is about to be under way. Curtis is sitting in his seat.*
: So then, Copycat was about to shoot me. Me! But my old Team B.A.N.G. buddy knew who I was and shot the look-a-like instead. Secret service arrested him after the cameras left, but I pardoned him immediately.*The camera pulls back to reveal that President Curtis is talking to Bernie Sanders! But wait, Bernie is asleep in his chair, in an image that you know all too well, so I’m not even going to bother and rather rely on the theater of the mind… but this is video, so you see it, I don’t know what I’m talking about. Anyway… Curtis is using Bernie’s folded arms as a phone holder, as his wife is on screen.*
: Sorry dear, with my duties in JROK, I can’t be there with you today due to quarantine.: It’s okay babe, we need you to stay safe from the Murder Hornets anyway.: You know they originated from over here, don’t you?: No! Run honey! Get out of there!: Sweetie, I’m fine. I just wish I could be with you as you pass the torch to the next guy.: I know, but the less people the better, right? So how’s it all going over there anyway?: Doing good, just working my way toward another X*Crown title shot. I’ll win it someday.: I know you will babe. I’m in a match for a trident!: You would be. What are they doing at Fireside that needs tridents?: Oh no, this isn’t Fireside. You see, that false god Hyperion has put up his personal trident. And in the name of Thor, I need to win that thing and end his false idolship once and for all.: I understand you not liking other gods, but I never understood your fascination with ending the worship of Hyperion. Who cares what he identifies as?: Because he ain’t no deity! He can identify as anything else he wants to, but a god to be worshipped is where I draw the line. He is but a man. No deities would waste their time hanging with us mortals so much. It’s bullshit!*All the other former presidents and their first ladies stop talking and look at Curtis.*
: What are you looking at!? Don’t worry, I’ll shut up for the show.: So you are fighting Hyperion for this trident then?: Not just him. Thor wouldn’t want my struggle to be so easy. No, there are quite a few extra people added to the mix. I’m fighting my buddy Copycat as mentioned earlier. And I’m fighting the guy who frees us from the Matrix, a horror movie director, and a former defensive tackle for the Jacksonville Jaguars!: Who are all these guys?: Exactly! Who are they? If you can’t figure out which is which, why should I have to? As far as I am concerned, they’re all just collateral damage. This match is Godzilla vs. King Kong with myself and Hyperion as far as I’m concerned. The rest of these guys are the citizens on the ground just trying to avoid being stomped out. Copycat knows better, but the rest, they will learn real quick to get out of-- oh man. Hold on honey, one of them old badgers are walking over.: Hey there President Kanyon, I know you like to party, so I wanted to slip you this.*President Clinton hands President Kanyon a flyer. Curtis opens it up to reveal a big sexy picture of Hyperion, and a message that reads “Presidential Party, celebrate the inauguration of a real president at my mansion. Details on my Insta: @sexiestgodhyperion”*
: Pfft, we all know Thor is the sexiest. Wait a minute, this party invite is literally dissing me!: Who cares, chicks will be there man. Hey, who’s the hot piece on the mini TV?: YOU STAY AWAY FROM MY WIFE!*Curtis snatches the tablet from the sleeping Bernie.*
: I can’t let his sexual gaze compel you to go to him my dear! I need to turn this off! Love you!: Love yo--*Curtis shuts off the tablet.*
: Whew, that was close.: You ever consider a wife swap?*Curtis shudders.*
: I’m going to sit over there…*Curtis gets up and shuffles away.*
: How about you Bernie? You asleep buddy? Bet those mittens are warm…*Clinton starts to reach over to the sleeping Bernie as the scene fades.*
**Fade out.
Fade in. Hyperion Mansion. Exterior. January 21st. Night Time.**
*Inside the limo of now former President Curtis D. Kanyon we see that it’s pulling up to the front of the mansion. People are partying on the lawn. Kanyon puts on a trench coat and sunglasses. Then places a fake mustache on.*
: They’ll never suspect a thing!*Curtis exits the car and the camera follows.*
: Hey there Curtis!: Son of a--!*The crowd starts chanting, “BANG! BANG! BANG!”*
: Well, when in Rome…*In one swift motion, Curtis flings off his coat, glasses, and sweet ‘stash! He then grabs the beer from out of President Bush’s hand and starts chugging.*
: Dude!?: It’s cool, I’m vaccinated.*Curtis tosses the butt of the beer in Bush’s face.*
: That’s for narc’ing on me square.: Me, a narc? That’s impossibibal!*Curtis walks into the mansion, grabbing another random beer as he does.*
**Fade out.
Fade in Hyperion Mansion. Interior. January 22nd. Night time.*
*It’s now well into the night, the party has died down, there’s passed out people everywhere. President Kanyon and President Bush are staring at each other from across a small standing table. A shot glass in front of each of them. Curtis pours each a shot of Jack.*
: Number -hic- fourty… three Bushie boy! Think you can handle it?: Fourty three ish my lucky number.: Did I ever tell you you remind me of an old boss?: Multiple timesh. Shhhut up and drink partner! Ready… shet… draw!*At his command, they both shoot the alcohol into their respective mouths. Then they stare at each other as it travels to their tummies.*
: Number -hic- fourty… four Bushi boy! Think you can handle it?: Fourth four ish--*Bush suddenly freezes, and then falls over.*
: Fina-hic-lly. Everyone is down… now is my time. I’m -hic- really going to make them rue the day that they made this unlimited. Wait, Hyperion did that… -hic- wait, who am I talking to… -hic- wait, is Hyperion the Limburg baby? I spent all this time here, -hic- and I didn’t even see that son of a bitch! I’mma find him, I’mma find him and beat him up for insulting me in a flyer, and for claiming to be a god, and for having a trident, and for being so sexy, and for trying to have better hair than me, and… wait, who -hic- am I here for again?: *from the ground* Hyperperiod.: Yes! Thank you!*Curtis stumbles away from the table and staggers to the stairs nearby. He holds onto the side rail for dear life, like a 70 year old man in a wind storm, and climbs his way up as if he was climbing Mount Everest. After a minute of this, he makes it to the top and peaks his head into a room, then another, then another. Until finally, he likes what he sees and walks in. He pops his head out of the door and looks at the camera.*
: Be vewy vewy quiet. I’m hunting false gods. …-hic- Get it… it’s an Esmer Fudd joke. Sorry, that was terrible. But now let’s Mongo inside. I swear, I won’t von Krauss you camera man. ...Dylan Black.*Curtis winks to the camera and then let’s the camera man enter the room behind him.*
: Shhhhh.*Once inside, we see Hyperion knocked out and snoring in bed, in between two ladies. Above his bed is none other than THE TRIDENT! Curtis gasps and points at it. He gets so excited, he elbows a trophy case next to him. “CLANG!” Curtis quickly stops in his tracks and freezes in place. But nothing happens. Hyperion and the ladies are still asleep. Curtis gets drunkenly giddy again.*
: This is great, he’s knocked out! I can take it. So bright... so beautiful... our precious. Hyperion should be resting, Hyperion needs to keep up his strength.*Curtis reaches for the trident.*
: NO! I shouldn’t. I can’t. I need to win it. I need to hold it above me in victory. You hear me you beautiful sleeping angel? Thor’s vengeance demands that I win your weapon on the battlefield for the world to see! I prove you are no match for him by the fact that you are no match for me. I prove you are truly no god to be worshiped, though you are chiseled like one. You fight hard, the battle will be glorious, there is no doubt. But it is not your day to win. No sir. No no no my frienemy… not at all…*Curtis looks up at the trident again.*
: I must admit, it is glorious. Not as glorious as Mjölnir mind you, but what is? I will take it from you in battle Hyperion, the way a conqueror is meant to…*Curtis pushes some stuff off the nearby night stand and pushes it toward the bed. He then climbs it and gets a closer look at the trident. He almost loses his balance falling on the bed, but catches himself. He then looks at the trident again, touching the handle, almost sexually. He starts singing to the trident.*
: I really, really, really, really, really, really like youAnd I want you, do you want me, do you want me, too?
I really, really, really, really, really, really like you
And I want you, do you want me, do you want me, too?
Oh, did I say too much?
I'm so in my head
When we're out of touch
I really, really, really, really, really, really like you
And I want you, do you want me, do you want me, too?
*Curtis suddenly snaps out of it, no longer mesmerized by the trident. But still in a drunken haze. He climbs down from the night stand.*
: No. There must be some spell on it. It’s far too dangerous in Hyperion’s hands. I need to take care of this weapon of mass destruction. I’m a former President, only someone like me has the training to handle that thing. I can’t let Keanu win it, or Daryl, or Ellen, and definitely not Copycat. And I certainly can’t let you keep it Hyperion.*He looks over at Hyperion, who’s still snoring away. Curtis sits down in a chair next to a small table. He puts his head in his hands, trying to stay up.*
: What a war it shall be… I know that... *yawn* they’ll have trouble… keeping the building standing… when we’re… we’re… zzzzz…*Curtis starts to doze off. But then sits up.*
: What!? Where!? Oh, right. No, stay awake. I will not sleep with my enemy! Not making that mistake again. Oh… what’s this?*Curtis notices something on the table. It’s a white powdery substance set in lines? With a note next to them. Curtis starts to read.*
: “Debbie’s wake up nose powder, totally her’s, I mean mine, and not belonging to anyone, especially wrestlers of the XHF Network.” Oh, fantastic, I need to wake up! When in Rome!*Curtis grabs a nearby straw as the camera goes behind him. We here a sniff, but we don’t see anything because Curtis’s body is in the way, so who knows what’s happening.*
: Oh wow! That reminds me of-- oh boy! It’s already kicking in!*Curtis turns to the camera and his eyes are wider than ever!*
: Awwww here it goes!**Fade out.
Fade in. Parts Unknown. Date Unknown.**
*Curtis is falling through a psychedelic prism, when suddenly…
(click me to find out what suddenly happened!)
Go to the link before moving on.
...
Seriously the next part won’t make sense without out.
...
Speaking of things that don't make sense but are great, have you been watching Wandavision? Holy shit is it good!
...
Not sure if this linked detour counted as part of the promo or not, but Curtis is tripping right now, so he probably doesn’t care.
...
You sure you followed the link and are ready to continue now? Great! We see Curtis flinging back through the psychedelic prism and he flies into the camera until it goes black.*
**Fade out.
Cut in. Not sure where.**
*We see a grassy field. Suddenly, Curtis sits up into frame.*
: Holy sheeeeet. That was intense! Now… where the fuck am I?*The camera zooms out above Curtis to reveal he’s in the middle of a snowy field.*
**Anchorage, Alaska. Daytime. January 26th.**
: Ah, there we are thanks! Fuck it’s cold. Also… where did all those days go?: President Kanyon!: What the what? Secret service agent Jim? What are you doing here?: You’re a former President man! You still get secret service detail. I was supposed to go over all this with you, but you left the inauguration to go party hoping!: Great, but how did you find me?: You’re still tagged.: I was tagged?: Forget I said anything. Anyway, let’s get you cleaned up, your match is in a few days and you’re already in Alaska. Let’s get you ready for your Trident match!: Yes! I need to call back to my Super Hyperion Invitational Trident joke.: Shit.: Exactly! Anyway, let’s start getting ready now!*”Gonna Fly Now” from the Rocky movies starts playing as Kanyons starts running in the snow. After about fifteen seconds, Curtis stops and bends over huffing and puffing, then falls over and the music scratches to a halt.*
: Man, you just got off a four day trip and woke up in the snow, you ain’t in any condition to montage right now! Curtis? Curtis? Aw man, I’mma have to carry his ass.**Fade out.
Fade in. The Marriott. Anchorage Alaska. January 26th. Night.**
*We see Curtis sitting by the fireplace, drinking a hot chocolate, plaid blanket over his lap. Curtis looks at the camera.*
: This is nice. I needed this. I thought about showing y’all my conditioning in a montage to be filmed tomorrow, but no. I don’t want Hyperion to see what I’m doing to get ready. I don’t want those other losers to know either. I will be the last man standing, and none of you will see how or why I am so confident in that. But just know, I am the former President. I’m also the Innovator of Violence. I’m also the World Breaker and the Archangel. I’ve had many names in this business. But they all boil down to one thing, that I’m the baddest bitch in the building. Last Man Standing rules just gives me carte blanche to maim and massacre you all in any way that I see fit. I walk to the ring with a sledgehammer for crying out loud, you know it only goes up from there! I get to slam, smack, and hopefully dismember so many people. It’s great. I get to let loose and get out all this frustration from all this election losing and peaceful transitioning and insurrectionist assholes.*Curtis takes a sip of his cocoa.*
: I don’t mean to downplay all my other opponents, but let’s face it, we’re all here for Hyperion’s trident. He’s the one who claims to be a god, spitting in the face of Thor and all the other true gods with that sort of speak. Hyperion has gone too long unchecked, and I for one refuse to let that continue. I will hit him again, and again, and again until he falls down and stays down. I assume on the way to that goal, the rest of you will fall. Sorry, it’s just business.*Curtis slurps again.*
: And to the man without whom this match wouldn’t be possible, Hyperion. What more is there to say bud? I’m ready for your S.H.I.T. Heh, worked it in again. I’m ready for the beating that will come from you. The war that will rage between us will be legendary! I will make Thor proud, and hope to even gain a viewing from the eye of the All-Father, Odin himself. I know they will want to see me prove your falsehoods. And I want to beat you, and carry that sexy ass trident. ...And be victorious, as well as all that violence I want to do as previously mentioned. I respect you Hyperion, because you will be a worthy opponent who will actually give me a challenge. But I will give no quarter. I want the trident, but even more so, I want the legend on my way to the trident to be told for generations to come! I know you won’t go down easy, but you will go down when you feel… the… BANG!*Curtis almost spills his cocoa, then takes another sip.*
: Ah, that felt good, I was waiting all promo to say that. I was on the edge the whole damn time. Nothing like playing the edging game. Tootles.*The scene starts to fade. But wait!*
: Did you really think you’d get through this without seeing me!: Holy cow! It’s the Barrack!: How’s it going bud!*Kanyons stands up to greet Obama and they do a black man handshake.*
: I think the last time I saw you was NCW wasn’t it?: Oy, don’t remind me. Recent bad experience. I suppose it would make sense for me to see you too. All the other living presidents were in this promo. Except Carter.: Yeah, for obvious reasons.: Oldness.: No, COVID restrictions.: Oh yeah, that reminds me, I don’t know where I was for the last four days, you should probably get tested. And I was at a party before that.: You are one crazy mother fucker, you know that.: I’ve heard.: Don’t tell Joe, but if you had just run as a Dem, you could have still been President.: Yeah… but Whig Party, I mean, it was low hanging fruit.: You do you brother, you always have. Just wanted to pop by and wish you luck. Not like you need it.: Thanks man, I appreciate it.: Not to mention the thing Hyperion said about you mother.: What?: And your wife and kids.: That son of a bitch! He said things!?: He’s Hyperion, what did you expect?*Curtis throws his mug at the fireplace, shattering it to pieces.*
: Oh no, he does not get away with that. It was on before, but now… now it’s extra on!: On like Donky Kong.: Yes, very much on like that! I need to gets to planning a massacre! Thanks Obama!*Curtis storms off.*
: Heh heh, I love stirring up the shit.**Fade out.**
