Post by freakke on Apr 7, 2021 17:44:10 GMT -5
We cut in to see a Family Living Room fitting of the mid-80s. It's night and the only thing stirring is a German Shepherd who clearly can’t be bothered to not look at the camera man. Very unprofessional. A large, box TV with old school knobs sat blasting static into the otherwise unlit room. Flickers perhaps of old shows occasionally touched the image but were little more than stray moments. A hand came from the side and switched the device to another channel. A flash, then different static patterns. Click. Another empty channel.
Click.
Funky bass noises and a faded Pontiac Grand Prix sat in the middle of a street filled with red brick buildings. Inside are two men. Both clearly wrestlers in really basic detective outfits complete with tinted shades and god awful mustaches. Freakke sits in the driver seat, doughnut crammed into his face. Damien Walker sits in the passenger seat, vaguely confused about this whole set up.
“Alright. I’ll bite. Where’s this going?”
“Stakeout. The doughnuts aren’t great but I missed breakfast so…”
“No, I mean...all of this. How does this relate in any way to our match or anything?”
Freakke looks at his tag partner and blink a moment.
“I uhh...I dunno. I usually just wing it really.”
“What do you mean you wing it? There’s no way you’re just winging it. The whole setup probably took you a week to plan? This car, the costumes, everything.”
The Carnival King looks a little lost. The younger wrestler seems to have absolutely lost him with logic and common sense.
“I uhh...look, I just wanted some doughnuts man. With my diet and everything I need to really go out of my way to get them.”
“You rented a car and costumes and a whole studio crew...for doughnuts.”
After a moment of looking lost and maybe a little caught, the clown slowly lifts another deep fried, jelly filled, powdered sugar confection to his face. Damien looks a little lost a moment. Perhaps mentally asking why he had agreed to this. Then, dramatically, Freakke removed his shades. The camera zoomed in way too close.
“There! That’s the guys we’re waiting for.”
Damien turned but the camera did not.
“Are they wearing masks made from cardboard cutouts of Nemisis and Nick Knight?”
The Carnival King nodded.
“Isn’t this a little on the nose?”
Again the clown nodded.
“This is your show man. Do we chase them?”
“Not yet. We gotta wait for the Wocka Chocka to kick in.”
“The what?”
“You know, the Wocka Chocka soundtrack all these old cop shows had back in the 70’s.”
It was now Damien’s turn to be lost. Before he could ask, the music did in fact kick in, startling the younger wrestler, but causing Freakke to smile broadly as he slammed the car into high gear. The car’s monologue cuts out as a scene involving a car chase ensues. Much like many old school cop movies and shows, the Pontiac makes a few jumps the probably would have ruined its suspension among many other things. The audio clearly cut to avoid several expletives from the passenger who was not prepared for any of this.
---
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---
The living room again. Now with the lights turned on. A tv tray set up with a sandwich and one Freakke the Clown in boxers and a bathrobe watching the nuttiness on the boob tube.
“Well, this is a little unusual of me. I apologize for the informality. I’ve been fighting with one of my editors and low and behold I had to break out the sandwich to burn the candle on both ends. How are you guys? Enjoying the show? Ahh, it's just something to get us through till the actual show starts. A bit of fun ya know. Me and my new tag partner rolling around doing stupid things...ahh good times.”
The naptime Carnival King smiles at the camera.
“I mean, ya gotta give it up for the kid. Damien took the whole thing in stride. Sure he got a bit of a thumping last Collision but who doesn’t. Guy’s up and ready for round two with Nemesis. It always hurts to get screwed over like that too but damn if it doesn’t light a fire under your ass to work harder and kick both their stupid faces around some. If you’re listening in mate, ya gotta work with me when the time comes though. You saw how they operated. Ya got a taste of what can happen. Gotta be smart. Thankfully ya got ol’Freakke in your corner and I’m a crafty bastard. I know how to play that game as well as anyone.”
He gave a way too dorky wink.
“I got every confidence in you. We got this man. Just gotta make sure we’re on the same page and then there’s no problems.”
---
Back to the TV. Another channel, another dumb skit. Freakke and Damien are now sitting in what looks like a knock off of the Millenium Falcon’s cockpit. The costumes now fitting for an old tv Space Opera. Damien is looking around again.
“Do you...do you just have this stuff lying around?”
“I uhh...I get a lot of weird stuff second hand yeah.”
“And you ju-I’m just very confused.”
“Just go with it. Like look at all of this stuff. All these blinky lights and the costumes and the college kids I hired to run around out there with little space ship toys to simulate enemy fighters and stuff.”
“Yes but why?”
The two were looking at each other like they were literally aliens from another world. Freakke not understanding how the younger guy isn’t getting it. Damien just...well he’s just not getting it. It’s a bit awkward. The silence remains unbroken, even as Freakke slowly lifts another doughnut to his face.
“WHAT IS WITH THE DOUGHNUTS MAN?!? I just...why?!?”
Freakke then reared back and let out a long Wookie noise.
---
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---
Back in the living room, Freakke is eating the sandwich. He’s grabbed a glass of Lemonade in the meantime as well.
“Mmm. Gotta love turkey and ham swiss together. I swear. That said, speaking of Ham and Cheese, let’s talk about the time honored tradition in wrestling of douchebag managers sticking their noses in where they ought not. C’mon man. The oldest cheap trick in the book. Screwing with a match in progress like that. No wonder the kids got it out for you two. Now, I know it’s just part of the way wrestling goes but I gotta tell ya, Nemesis if you’re boy tries something funny, he’s fair game.”
Another bite as he smiles at the screen. It looks like an atari space game as the camera switched to an outside shot. It switches back and Freakke on the screen is shaking about like it’s Star Trek.
“As for you yourself Nemmie. We ain’t really been formally introduced in the proper fashion. I love masked wrestlers. Always have. Nothing but respect from me ya know. You're colorful and interesting but I gotta say. The whole silent treatment makes me sad. Does it mean we can’t be friends? What secrets are you holding? If I shake your head and ask it questions like a Magic Eightball, will I get a restraining order or a title shot? Or do I gotta thump your mouth piece to get a hi howdy do from you? Questions to ponder no?”
More sandwich.
---
New channel, new show. Now they’re out in the woods. In LARP gear. Freakke as a Gandalf knock off and Damien in a mix of plastic halloween bits and cardboard. This has done nothing to alleviate the younger wrestler’s confusion.
“Wait hold on I gotta ask something.”
Freakke taps his walking sti-err staff against the ground once and then holds out his hand in a dramatic pose. Edited in post, LIGHTNING shoots from his finger tips. Damien blinked once.
“OK. Look, I gotta ask man, what does this have to do with anything? Old TV sure but like, why these shows. Buddy cop. We were discount Han Solo and Chewbacca for a minute. Now this. Like...Game of Thrones?”
“Ehhh, we do not have the budget or TV rating for that. Think more like Lord of the Rings.”
“OK...but again why?”
Freakke sighed.
“Alright. First it was the buddy cops. Buddy. Eh? Alright, then the old school duo of Han and Chewie. Right. Dose amigos in space. Then we get to a...c’mon man a Fellowship.”
Damien blinked a moment but Freakke answered exasperated.
“YES! It is a hamfisted metaphor for Teamwork and Friendship. That and doughnuts”
Epp, there it is. From out of the robes. Bear Claw.
“How did I not see that coming. Look, no offense, but I just want to beat Nemesis after that last match.”
“And I can totally get behind that but we gotta be on the same page. We gotta groove together. Gotta work together. You and me against two and a half jerkwads in one glorious night. We gotta be on top of it ya know.”
Damien nodded. Alright, his gesture seemed to convey. He lifted the foam sword and shield up.
“Alright. So where do we start.”
“Well, the guide said the orcs are up here. I got two fireballs and you have more hit points than God. Adventure awaits.”
“Then let’s do it.”
“There ya go.”
The two walk off screen and the sounds of battle begin.
---
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---
The sandwich is gone now.
“Which leaves us with Nick. Nick, Nick, Nick. Did ya like the head gag? C’mon, when have I ever worn a shirt to the ring? Ya had to know something was up. Well, maybe not the cleanest trick I ever pulled but ya don’t hang out with magicians and not pick up a thing or two. You’ll get your shot at getting back at me but you know now you gotta work at it. DO you think you can work with your tag partner to win this one out? I’m pretty sure I can work with mine by now. So I guess it comes down to which team can bring it together better in such a short time yeah? I want you to both try. Because it just means we gotta work harder and do it better. Don’t disappoint the lovely cretins now.”
He smiled and leaned in to switch off the television.
“Speaking of, it’s time for me to get some sleep. So my dear friends and miscreants, good night.”
He waved goodbye and the camera faded out.
Click.
Funky bass noises and a faded Pontiac Grand Prix sat in the middle of a street filled with red brick buildings. Inside are two men. Both clearly wrestlers in really basic detective outfits complete with tinted shades and god awful mustaches. Freakke sits in the driver seat, doughnut crammed into his face. Damien Walker sits in the passenger seat, vaguely confused about this whole set up.
“Alright. I’ll bite. Where’s this going?”
“Stakeout. The doughnuts aren’t great but I missed breakfast so…”
“No, I mean...all of this. How does this relate in any way to our match or anything?”
Freakke looks at his tag partner and blink a moment.
“I uhh...I dunno. I usually just wing it really.”
“What do you mean you wing it? There’s no way you’re just winging it. The whole setup probably took you a week to plan? This car, the costumes, everything.”
The Carnival King looks a little lost. The younger wrestler seems to have absolutely lost him with logic and common sense.
“I uhh...look, I just wanted some doughnuts man. With my diet and everything I need to really go out of my way to get them.”
“You rented a car and costumes and a whole studio crew...for doughnuts.”
After a moment of looking lost and maybe a little caught, the clown slowly lifts another deep fried, jelly filled, powdered sugar confection to his face. Damien looks a little lost a moment. Perhaps mentally asking why he had agreed to this. Then, dramatically, Freakke removed his shades. The camera zoomed in way too close.
“There! That’s the guys we’re waiting for.”
Damien turned but the camera did not.
“Are they wearing masks made from cardboard cutouts of Nemisis and Nick Knight?”
The Carnival King nodded.
“Isn’t this a little on the nose?”
Again the clown nodded.
“This is your show man. Do we chase them?”
“Not yet. We gotta wait for the Wocka Chocka to kick in.”
“The what?”
“You know, the Wocka Chocka soundtrack all these old cop shows had back in the 70’s.”
It was now Damien’s turn to be lost. Before he could ask, the music did in fact kick in, startling the younger wrestler, but causing Freakke to smile broadly as he slammed the car into high gear. The car’s monologue cuts out as a scene involving a car chase ensues. Much like many old school cop movies and shows, the Pontiac makes a few jumps the probably would have ruined its suspension among many other things. The audio clearly cut to avoid several expletives from the passenger who was not prepared for any of this.
---
01000011 01101000 01100001 01110010 01101100 01101001 01100101 00100000 01010011 01101101 01101001 01101100 01100101 01110011
---
The living room again. Now with the lights turned on. A tv tray set up with a sandwich and one Freakke the Clown in boxers and a bathrobe watching the nuttiness on the boob tube.
“Well, this is a little unusual of me. I apologize for the informality. I’ve been fighting with one of my editors and low and behold I had to break out the sandwich to burn the candle on both ends. How are you guys? Enjoying the show? Ahh, it's just something to get us through till the actual show starts. A bit of fun ya know. Me and my new tag partner rolling around doing stupid things...ahh good times.”
The naptime Carnival King smiles at the camera.
“I mean, ya gotta give it up for the kid. Damien took the whole thing in stride. Sure he got a bit of a thumping last Collision but who doesn’t. Guy’s up and ready for round two with Nemesis. It always hurts to get screwed over like that too but damn if it doesn’t light a fire under your ass to work harder and kick both their stupid faces around some. If you’re listening in mate, ya gotta work with me when the time comes though. You saw how they operated. Ya got a taste of what can happen. Gotta be smart. Thankfully ya got ol’Freakke in your corner and I’m a crafty bastard. I know how to play that game as well as anyone.”
He gave a way too dorky wink.
“I got every confidence in you. We got this man. Just gotta make sure we’re on the same page and then there’s no problems.”
---
Back to the TV. Another channel, another dumb skit. Freakke and Damien are now sitting in what looks like a knock off of the Millenium Falcon’s cockpit. The costumes now fitting for an old tv Space Opera. Damien is looking around again.
“Do you...do you just have this stuff lying around?”
“I uhh...I get a lot of weird stuff second hand yeah.”
“And you ju-I’m just very confused.”
“Just go with it. Like look at all of this stuff. All these blinky lights and the costumes and the college kids I hired to run around out there with little space ship toys to simulate enemy fighters and stuff.”
“Yes but why?”
The two were looking at each other like they were literally aliens from another world. Freakke not understanding how the younger guy isn’t getting it. Damien just...well he’s just not getting it. It’s a bit awkward. The silence remains unbroken, even as Freakke slowly lifts another doughnut to his face.
“WHAT IS WITH THE DOUGHNUTS MAN?!? I just...why?!?”
Freakke then reared back and let out a long Wookie noise.
---
01001001 01110011 00100000 01001000 01101001 01100100 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01010011 01101111 01101101 01100101 01110100 01101000 01101001 01101110 01100111
---
Back in the living room, Freakke is eating the sandwich. He’s grabbed a glass of Lemonade in the meantime as well.
“Mmm. Gotta love turkey and ham swiss together. I swear. That said, speaking of Ham and Cheese, let’s talk about the time honored tradition in wrestling of douchebag managers sticking their noses in where they ought not. C’mon man. The oldest cheap trick in the book. Screwing with a match in progress like that. No wonder the kids got it out for you two. Now, I know it’s just part of the way wrestling goes but I gotta tell ya, Nemesis if you’re boy tries something funny, he’s fair game.”
Another bite as he smiles at the screen. It looks like an atari space game as the camera switched to an outside shot. It switches back and Freakke on the screen is shaking about like it’s Star Trek.
“As for you yourself Nemmie. We ain’t really been formally introduced in the proper fashion. I love masked wrestlers. Always have. Nothing but respect from me ya know. You're colorful and interesting but I gotta say. The whole silent treatment makes me sad. Does it mean we can’t be friends? What secrets are you holding? If I shake your head and ask it questions like a Magic Eightball, will I get a restraining order or a title shot? Or do I gotta thump your mouth piece to get a hi howdy do from you? Questions to ponder no?”
More sandwich.
---
New channel, new show. Now they’re out in the woods. In LARP gear. Freakke as a Gandalf knock off and Damien in a mix of plastic halloween bits and cardboard. This has done nothing to alleviate the younger wrestler’s confusion.
“Wait hold on I gotta ask something.”
Freakke taps his walking sti-err staff against the ground once and then holds out his hand in a dramatic pose. Edited in post, LIGHTNING shoots from his finger tips. Damien blinked once.
“OK. Look, I gotta ask man, what does this have to do with anything? Old TV sure but like, why these shows. Buddy cop. We were discount Han Solo and Chewbacca for a minute. Now this. Like...Game of Thrones?”
“Ehhh, we do not have the budget or TV rating for that. Think more like Lord of the Rings.”
“OK...but again why?”
Freakke sighed.
“Alright. First it was the buddy cops. Buddy. Eh? Alright, then the old school duo of Han and Chewie. Right. Dose amigos in space. Then we get to a...c’mon man a Fellowship.”
Damien blinked a moment but Freakke answered exasperated.
“YES! It is a hamfisted metaphor for Teamwork and Friendship. That and doughnuts”
Epp, there it is. From out of the robes. Bear Claw.
“How did I not see that coming. Look, no offense, but I just want to beat Nemesis after that last match.”
“And I can totally get behind that but we gotta be on the same page. We gotta groove together. Gotta work together. You and me against two and a half jerkwads in one glorious night. We gotta be on top of it ya know.”
Damien nodded. Alright, his gesture seemed to convey. He lifted the foam sword and shield up.
“Alright. So where do we start.”
“Well, the guide said the orcs are up here. I got two fireballs and you have more hit points than God. Adventure awaits.”
“Then let’s do it.”
“There ya go.”
The two walk off screen and the sounds of battle begin.
---
01001000 01100101 00100000 01000011 01100001 01101110 00100111 01110100 00100000 01001011 01100101 01100101 01110000 00100000 01000100 01101111 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01010100 01101000 01101001 01110011
---
The sandwich is gone now.
“Which leaves us with Nick. Nick, Nick, Nick. Did ya like the head gag? C’mon, when have I ever worn a shirt to the ring? Ya had to know something was up. Well, maybe not the cleanest trick I ever pulled but ya don’t hang out with magicians and not pick up a thing or two. You’ll get your shot at getting back at me but you know now you gotta work at it. DO you think you can work with your tag partner to win this one out? I’m pretty sure I can work with mine by now. So I guess it comes down to which team can bring it together better in such a short time yeah? I want you to both try. Because it just means we gotta work harder and do it better. Don’t disappoint the lovely cretins now.”
He smiled and leaned in to switch off the television.
“Speaking of, it’s time for me to get some sleep. So my dear friends and miscreants, good night.”
He waved goodbye and the camera faded out.