Post by freakke on Feb 7, 2021 22:04:01 GMT -5
Japan, The Set of King Kaiju: Kaiju Rumble.
There are about a dozen ‘giant’ wrestlers, monsters, and robots sitting around a model Japanese city. They’re all waiting for filming to start for a scene in a Royal Rumble styled Kaiju battle movie. Two giant lizards and a masked wrestler are chatting about something over by a ferris wheel model. An Ultraman knockoff is sitting on a gas station model playing with one of the remote control cars. A really cheesy mothman is testing the power wires they have set up to act as ropes to spring off of for some of their moves.
Then there’s the American. A long green coat. Palid skin. Dark hair. Green clown face paint. Freakke had a few glowing green veins painted onto his body to complete the nuclear clown gimmick he’d been with every time he showed up for King Kaiju. It’d be enhanced in post but he was impressed by the cosmetics he had. He was chatting with one of the translators about something they were all amused with it seemed. As the camera drew closer, he continued the conversation in Japanese. After a few lines back and forth, the audio cut out and was then replaced by really, really badly synced dubbing.
“OK. We good to go now?”
“Yeah, the new updates should be good for the English dub.”
“I mean I can speak English.”
“We know. You don’t shut up sometimes.”
“What a lovely thing to say.”
That's not what I said.
“Oh, yeah, by the way. You have a phone call.”
“Oh, alright, we’re still waiting on the director.”
“Director’s not coming. Apparently he got attacked by Godzilla on the way in.”
Freakke blinked at this statement. The translator held up his hands.
“Its a guy in a Godzilla costume not an actual Godzilla…”
“I was gonna say.”
“Not the right season for Godzilla attacks.”
The clown only mouthed the words-oh no no we’re a family show censor that. Filthy clown.
“Alright then. I think we can take that call then.”
The translator nodded then signaled for the gofer to bring over the phone. The clown got a hold of it and politely waved thank you before taking his call.
“Hey hey. Oh hey! Its been a long time...uh huh….yeah. No shit. I dunno. I mean...hmmm. OK. I think I can get to it yeah. No no. I’m not that busy. I finished most of my scenes here. I’m just here as background for this fight. Uh huh, yeah I can be there in a week. It’ll be good to be back. I’ll talk to you more tomorrow to get everything squared away. Peace man.”
Hanging up he handed over the phone.
“Well gents. I must go. My planet needs me.”
Freakke the Nuclear Powered Mutant Clown then lifted his arms into an almost Praise the Sun pose before lifting off the ground in a really obvious green screen and wires effect and flying off into the sky to heroic music. The crew gathered round with the translator just shaking his head.
“What a prat…”
---
Mandalay by Foetus plays as the screen cuts from black to a dark sparsely lit industrial garage. There’s a dingy green van with the logos and styles of the Carnival King spray painted onto the side. The camera swings around a pillar that had been obscuring the Clown himself. He stands, leaning against the vehicle eating a big fluffy thing of cotton candy. It takes him a few moments to acknowledge the camera, but once he does, he gives a great big wide smile with that painted face of his.
“Ladies and Gentlement, Boys, Girls, Enbies, Neithers, Robots, Mutants, Ghouls, Misfits, Utter Train Wrecks and Introverts who just need mom and dad to leave them alone for a few minutes."
That entire time he was going on steadily less and less breath and faster and faster. What a nerd.
"Cretins one and all of all shapes, sizes, sorts, colors, nationalities and so forth and so on until the end of time, I am Freakke, your Carnival King. The Mad Clown Disease of pro wrestling. The Insane Rope Walker and Risk Taker here again, one more time before you all. We’re back and its a glorious one. Something worth our time and yours. My dear Cretins, I give you the RETURN of nCw. Oh yes. That nCw. Not the Super Nintendo game we all saw on the SNES, got excited then realized no wait those aren’t wrestlers from that famous promotion back ten or so years ago. No. No we’re back for another run at it. Another go round. We’re back.”
He tossed the cotton candy up and over his shoulder and the van. Then, like his entire over the top career, Freakke bowed.
“And we are ever so excited to be here for you one more time.”
He stood up. The smile was warm.
“It’s been a long time my dear friends. I’ve been out of it and it's been awhile since we’ve seen each other. I mean yeah I’ve been in the King Kaiju movies but really does that count? Yeah sure its more or less the same clown mess I’ve always tried to give you all but there’s just no replacing the live experience. You, me, another schmuck whose gonna eat a Smiledriver and a square ring. What's not to love?”
He smirked. The years have done nothing to improve his poor sense of humor or excitement.
“Speaking of schmucks, our first bout is with Chris Jenerico. I don’t really remember much about Jenerico. It’s really odd, I remember so many memorable and wonderful people in the nCw locker room. Like, they all stand out so much in my mind but. I just can’t put my finger on any real memory of Chris Jenerico. I know I’ve heard his name around before but for some reason it’s just like trying to remember a random face in the crowd.”
He seems troubled by how much he has to think to remember his opponent. Ahh well, he gives up.
“I’ll say this. Come time to go to the mat, I’m sure we’ll leave an impression mate. Don’t worry. You’re old pal Freakke is good at that. You and me are gonna make that first match back something special. After all, thats what our lovely little cretins deserve. Doncha think? Chris...uhh...ahh crap...Generalized? Everyschmuck? McIReallyDon’tKnowPleaseSomeoneThrowMeABone. Generico? But thats so Generic…”
The off camera discussion apparently said something that made the clown go “ooooh. Oh!” as if the point just hit him. Then, Freakke turned to the camera, smiling. Big, creepy clown smile.
Fade out.
There are about a dozen ‘giant’ wrestlers, monsters, and robots sitting around a model Japanese city. They’re all waiting for filming to start for a scene in a Royal Rumble styled Kaiju battle movie. Two giant lizards and a masked wrestler are chatting about something over by a ferris wheel model. An Ultraman knockoff is sitting on a gas station model playing with one of the remote control cars. A really cheesy mothman is testing the power wires they have set up to act as ropes to spring off of for some of their moves.
Then there’s the American. A long green coat. Palid skin. Dark hair. Green clown face paint. Freakke had a few glowing green veins painted onto his body to complete the nuclear clown gimmick he’d been with every time he showed up for King Kaiju. It’d be enhanced in post but he was impressed by the cosmetics he had. He was chatting with one of the translators about something they were all amused with it seemed. As the camera drew closer, he continued the conversation in Japanese. After a few lines back and forth, the audio cut out and was then replaced by really, really badly synced dubbing.
“OK. We good to go now?”
“Yeah, the new updates should be good for the English dub.”
“I mean I can speak English.”
“We know. You don’t shut up sometimes.”
“What a lovely thing to say.”
That's not what I said.
“Oh, yeah, by the way. You have a phone call.”
“Oh, alright, we’re still waiting on the director.”
“Director’s not coming. Apparently he got attacked by Godzilla on the way in.”
Freakke blinked at this statement. The translator held up his hands.
“Its a guy in a Godzilla costume not an actual Godzilla…”
“I was gonna say.”
“Not the right season for Godzilla attacks.”
The clown only mouthed the words-oh no no we’re a family show censor that. Filthy clown.
“Alright then. I think we can take that call then.”
The translator nodded then signaled for the gofer to bring over the phone. The clown got a hold of it and politely waved thank you before taking his call.
“Hey hey. Oh hey! Its been a long time...uh huh….yeah. No shit. I dunno. I mean...hmmm. OK. I think I can get to it yeah. No no. I’m not that busy. I finished most of my scenes here. I’m just here as background for this fight. Uh huh, yeah I can be there in a week. It’ll be good to be back. I’ll talk to you more tomorrow to get everything squared away. Peace man.”
Hanging up he handed over the phone.
“Well gents. I must go. My planet needs me.”
Freakke the Nuclear Powered Mutant Clown then lifted his arms into an almost Praise the Sun pose before lifting off the ground in a really obvious green screen and wires effect and flying off into the sky to heroic music. The crew gathered round with the translator just shaking his head.
“What a prat…”
---
Mandalay by Foetus plays as the screen cuts from black to a dark sparsely lit industrial garage. There’s a dingy green van with the logos and styles of the Carnival King spray painted onto the side. The camera swings around a pillar that had been obscuring the Clown himself. He stands, leaning against the vehicle eating a big fluffy thing of cotton candy. It takes him a few moments to acknowledge the camera, but once he does, he gives a great big wide smile with that painted face of his.
“Ladies and Gentlement, Boys, Girls, Enbies, Neithers, Robots, Mutants, Ghouls, Misfits, Utter Train Wrecks and Introverts who just need mom and dad to leave them alone for a few minutes."
That entire time he was going on steadily less and less breath and faster and faster. What a nerd.
"Cretins one and all of all shapes, sizes, sorts, colors, nationalities and so forth and so on until the end of time, I am Freakke, your Carnival King. The Mad Clown Disease of pro wrestling. The Insane Rope Walker and Risk Taker here again, one more time before you all. We’re back and its a glorious one. Something worth our time and yours. My dear Cretins, I give you the RETURN of nCw. Oh yes. That nCw. Not the Super Nintendo game we all saw on the SNES, got excited then realized no wait those aren’t wrestlers from that famous promotion back ten or so years ago. No. No we’re back for another run at it. Another go round. We’re back.”
He tossed the cotton candy up and over his shoulder and the van. Then, like his entire over the top career, Freakke bowed.
“And we are ever so excited to be here for you one more time.”
He stood up. The smile was warm.
“It’s been a long time my dear friends. I’ve been out of it and it's been awhile since we’ve seen each other. I mean yeah I’ve been in the King Kaiju movies but really does that count? Yeah sure its more or less the same clown mess I’ve always tried to give you all but there’s just no replacing the live experience. You, me, another schmuck whose gonna eat a Smiledriver and a square ring. What's not to love?”
He smirked. The years have done nothing to improve his poor sense of humor or excitement.
“Speaking of schmucks, our first bout is with Chris Jenerico. I don’t really remember much about Jenerico. It’s really odd, I remember so many memorable and wonderful people in the nCw locker room. Like, they all stand out so much in my mind but. I just can’t put my finger on any real memory of Chris Jenerico. I know I’ve heard his name around before but for some reason it’s just like trying to remember a random face in the crowd.”
He seems troubled by how much he has to think to remember his opponent. Ahh well, he gives up.
“I’ll say this. Come time to go to the mat, I’m sure we’ll leave an impression mate. Don’t worry. You’re old pal Freakke is good at that. You and me are gonna make that first match back something special. After all, thats what our lovely little cretins deserve. Doncha think? Chris...uhh...ahh crap...Generalized? Everyschmuck? McIReallyDon’tKnowPleaseSomeoneThrowMeABone. Generico? But thats so Generic…”
The off camera discussion apparently said something that made the clown go “ooooh. Oh!” as if the point just hit him. Then, Freakke turned to the camera, smiling. Big, creepy clown smile.
Fade out.