Alexa, make the Dark Stars interesting... ALEXA!?!?
Feb 22, 2021 20:48:34 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Dave D-Flipz, and 2 more like this
Post by The Colossus on Feb 22, 2021 20:48:34 GMT -5
Angus Skaaland sipped his coffee. Scott Steel hadn’t bothered to watch the XHF network since the debacle that had ended Vicious Valentine’s. Gus had to hand it to The Mountain, he and the Aurochs had been engaging in what loosely passed as training for them.
Imagine a training montage, but instead of running up mountains. They throw heavy things.
Instead of going to rustic backwoods to get mentally tough… They throw even heavier things.
And resultant from this, with more than a little advanced notice from Angus himself, Crescent City was not serving bus stops on this side of the park.
This had led to the Wasp sitting at the bus station. You know, like Forrest Gump. But minus the whimsy and historical perspective.
But Angus was pretty certain he’d have slept there anyway. Not that he didn’t spend some nights “indoors” as the man was wont to say.
Not that Scott had watched MUCH XHF network not involving Cassie Hunter, he still watched it from time to time to see if his favorite “movie” would come back on. But had he watched the Dark Stars, he’d have found kindred spirits. When they weren’t sounding like Siri reading block text translated to English websites, Angus couldn’t figure out word one of what these lunatics were talking about.
He was pretty certain they worshipped that one Shaq movie where he played a genie because reality is a really strange place, and with his front row seats to that oddness, that two or four, or six time-traveling mid-nineties Shaq worshipping “combatants” were the strangest thing happening in the match, or this month, was certainly an impressive feat.
Angus after the last exciting case the WASP had worked, had decided he needed some work to keep him on the level, loosely speaking.
He had sent the WASP out to find out what had happened to NPW’s missing tag team champions, as they had been about as sparse as the clutch of oblivion’s wins as of late. The WASP had predictably jumped to his feet, assumed a lawyerly looking pose, as a seagull escaped from his jacket and yelled at Scott Steel Volume that “He’d take the case!”
That was shortly before Angus had alerted Crescent City to the training, and CCFC’s resident legal expert had been promptly defeated by a bus not running.
Angus would’ve facepalmed, but instead, he just put a blanket over the kid. Angus had witnessed more shocking turn arounds. From people, he liked far less.
Angus maneuvered to watch the training progress, they had moved from a set of hurling things and decreasing surrounding property values to yelling inspiring things at one another. Naturally, MECHA-HARAMBE had joined in. The fact he spoke zero English made no difference as three naturally(allegedly) strong men roared at one another. Angus sipped his coffee and Lil’ D loped up beside and sat down in perfect dog form. His hand idly rubbed the head of the growing corgi, who somehow was larger than any corgi Angus had seen before. He supposed Scott was putting “supplements” in the dog's food.
What was bothering Angus, was that Scott’s mask had worked. Not in a court, of course, those were professionals who were logical and were paid reasonably well to think.
But it worked on the Dark Stars. Scott, who wasn’t wearing a mask, had somehow managed to make his former partner, the entirely forgettable Neko? Niko? Angus wasn’t sure, and it didn’t matter the four of them and Shaqra all spoke like Alexa having a hernia. Bought the mask bit. If Scott had been doing it for whatever “reasons” seemed like a good idea, Angus would probably suggest going back to the mask.
Scott would misinterpret the whole thing, put a KFC bucket on his head and turn into the wrestling equivalent of Buckethead. Minus the actual hiding of his identity again.
Angus already was mentally sipping a cup of coffee at this.
So he wouldn’t tell Scott that his foolproof plan to, and I quote “Saving Roll on Identity Hiding Spell”. Who had taught him about DnD in a half-assed fashion? Looking at the three men who had enough raw power to overturn an aircraft carrier. It wasn’t them.
It had to be the WASP.
Angus had nothing for that.
Angus had nothing for anything right now, between worshipping some nineteen-nineties version of non-basketball Shaq(and these idiots were going to have their minds blown by Space Jam when they got around to figuring out how and what television was.) and jabbering about swearing oaths to Gus Arnold. Angus had it pretty stone-cold that Jesse Jamester was going to need to deliver when it came to the concept of reality.
The mental black hole throwing around tires and spearing tires certainly didn’t have anything for this. If Angus went to Dane with this problem, he’d tell him to piss off. Rightfully so, because when the Dark Stars weren’t choke-slamming bar goons, for being bar goons, or attempting to swear oaths to the guy signing their checks.
They seemed to be…..
At that very moment, a very sweaty, and very vascular Mountain rolled into the CCFC proper, followed by The Aurochs who had burned off enough energy that he wasn’t sprinting through a wall. And Mecha-Harambe, who confusingly had put his tie back on over his bare chest.
Scott stopped and for no reason in particular began to shout or speak, at Scott Steel bloodpump volume.
Much blinking of trainees followed, all of whom had been minding their own business before their training music of choice, so anything else had been interrupted, several of them, almost reflexively, held Go Pros.
Angus started a slow clap, as MECHA-HARAMBE moved in and started an awkward dance towards a handshake with The Mountain. Somewhere, somehow, the Universe’s IQ just dropped a point or two.
Imagine a training montage, but instead of running up mountains. They throw heavy things.
Instead of going to rustic backwoods to get mentally tough… They throw even heavier things.
And resultant from this, with more than a little advanced notice from Angus himself, Crescent City was not serving bus stops on this side of the park.
This had led to the Wasp sitting at the bus station. You know, like Forrest Gump. But minus the whimsy and historical perspective.
But Angus was pretty certain he’d have slept there anyway. Not that he didn’t spend some nights “indoors” as the man was wont to say.
Not that Scott had watched MUCH XHF network not involving Cassie Hunter, he still watched it from time to time to see if his favorite “movie” would come back on. But had he watched the Dark Stars, he’d have found kindred spirits. When they weren’t sounding like Siri reading block text translated to English websites, Angus couldn’t figure out word one of what these lunatics were talking about.
He was pretty certain they worshipped that one Shaq movie where he played a genie because reality is a really strange place, and with his front row seats to that oddness, that two or four, or six time-traveling mid-nineties Shaq worshipping “combatants” were the strangest thing happening in the match, or this month, was certainly an impressive feat.
Angus after the last exciting case the WASP had worked, had decided he needed some work to keep him on the level, loosely speaking.
He had sent the WASP out to find out what had happened to NPW’s missing tag team champions, as they had been about as sparse as the clutch of oblivion’s wins as of late. The WASP had predictably jumped to his feet, assumed a lawyerly looking pose, as a seagull escaped from his jacket and yelled at Scott Steel Volume that “He’d take the case!”
That was shortly before Angus had alerted Crescent City to the training, and CCFC’s resident legal expert had been promptly defeated by a bus not running.
Angus would’ve facepalmed, but instead, he just put a blanket over the kid. Angus had witnessed more shocking turn arounds. From people, he liked far less.
Angus maneuvered to watch the training progress, they had moved from a set of hurling things and decreasing surrounding property values to yelling inspiring things at one another. Naturally, MECHA-HARAMBE had joined in. The fact he spoke zero English made no difference as three naturally(allegedly) strong men roared at one another. Angus sipped his coffee and Lil’ D loped up beside and sat down in perfect dog form. His hand idly rubbed the head of the growing corgi, who somehow was larger than any corgi Angus had seen before. He supposed Scott was putting “supplements” in the dog's food.
What was bothering Angus, was that Scott’s mask had worked. Not in a court, of course, those were professionals who were logical and were paid reasonably well to think.
But it worked on the Dark Stars. Scott, who wasn’t wearing a mask, had somehow managed to make his former partner, the entirely forgettable Neko? Niko? Angus wasn’t sure, and it didn’t matter the four of them and Shaqra all spoke like Alexa having a hernia. Bought the mask bit. If Scott had been doing it for whatever “reasons” seemed like a good idea, Angus would probably suggest going back to the mask.
Scott would misinterpret the whole thing, put a KFC bucket on his head and turn into the wrestling equivalent of Buckethead. Minus the actual hiding of his identity again.
Angus already was mentally sipping a cup of coffee at this.
So he wouldn’t tell Scott that his foolproof plan to, and I quote “Saving Roll on Identity Hiding Spell”. Who had taught him about DnD in a half-assed fashion? Looking at the three men who had enough raw power to overturn an aircraft carrier. It wasn’t them.
It had to be the WASP.
Angus had nothing for that.
Angus had nothing for anything right now, between worshipping some nineteen-nineties version of non-basketball Shaq(and these idiots were going to have their minds blown by Space Jam when they got around to figuring out how and what television was.) and jabbering about swearing oaths to Gus Arnold. Angus had it pretty stone-cold that Jesse Jamester was going to need to deliver when it came to the concept of reality.
The mental black hole throwing around tires and spearing tires certainly didn’t have anything for this. If Angus went to Dane with this problem, he’d tell him to piss off. Rightfully so, because when the Dark Stars weren’t choke-slamming bar goons, for being bar goons, or attempting to swear oaths to the guy signing their checks.
They seemed to be…..
At that very moment, a very sweaty, and very vascular Mountain rolled into the CCFC proper, followed by The Aurochs who had burned off enough energy that he wasn’t sprinting through a wall. And Mecha-Harambe, who confusingly had put his tie back on over his bare chest.
Scott stopped and for no reason in particular began to shout or speak, at Scott Steel bloodpump volume.
“YOUWANTWAR!YOUWANTTOGOTOBATTLEWITHTHESYNDICATE!ANDYOUWANTTOSTANDONTHEFRONTLINES!AGAINST THE MAGMA ROLLING DOWN THE MOUNTAINSIDE!?YOUWANTTOTAKETHEPLACEOFTHE PEOPLE OF POMPEII!YOUWANTTOSTANDINTHEPATHOFEVERSLOWLYANDCRUSHINGDEVOURINGMOLTONROCKSTREAMINGDOWNTHEMOUNTAINSIDE!??!!??THATSWHATYOURGONNAGETLITTLEBROTHERSYOUREGONNASTANDINTHEFIREANDTHEROCKSANDTHEASHAREGOINGTOCRUSHYOUINTHETUMULTANDUPHEAVEL!!”
Much blinking of trainees followed, all of whom had been minding their own business before their training music of choice, so anything else had been interrupted, several of them, almost reflexively, held Go Pros.
Angus started a slow clap, as MECHA-HARAMBE moved in and started an awkward dance towards a handshake with The Mountain. Somewhere, somehow, the Universe’s IQ just dropped a point or two.