Post by Vodka Fizz on Feb 11, 2022 21:45:15 GMT -5
The scene opens in an unfamiliar room. It has the look of an older house, judging by the finishes, and there’s a strong aura of history about it, other than the card table that’s been set up as a makeshift desk, strewn with cables, monitors, a Macbook, and various other bits and bobs, including the conspicuously gauche ring jacket of one Vodka Fizz. And the man himself is slouched in an uncomfortable-looking chair, glaring at one of the monitors, from which the rather sharp and sublimely uninterested countenance of Community Manager Jared stares back at him.
Vodka: ….And they’re serious about this shit?
There is no indication of any kind of reaction from Community Manager Jared, but Vodka sighs, rubbing his forehead.
Vodka: Yes, I know you would have asked. Alright. Alright. Here’s what we’ll do. Tell them we’ll accept, but the number needs to be 10% higher just to cover costs. We need to make something off of this, and what they’re offering’ll just barely break us even.
Community Manager Jared shifts slightly, making a barely audible huff, and Vodka grins.
Vodka: I know you will, buddy. There’s a reason I left you in charge.
Community manager Jared quirks one of his eyebrows, and Vodka’s expression turns rather dour again.
Vodka: Yeah, Natalie’s doing alright. Or she says she is. That whole awards show thing really freaked me out, man. But she’s OK. More’n anything she’s been pissed off about that whole thing at Supremacy with Caffrey and Cochrane. I’ve talked her down from going and eviscerating the man that signs my paycheck about a dozen times.
Community Manager Jarad shifts over to his other arm, a sly look appearing on his face.
Vodka: A gentleman doesn’t ask and a lady doesn’t tell, my friend. Although I will say we had to redirect that energy somewhere.
Community Manager Jared raises his eyebrows, and Vodka grinned.
Vodka: Anyway, leave it at ‘Natalie’s doing fine.’ She said to tell you she said hello, by the way, and that she’s sending you and the rest of the crew a care package for being so understanding about me being here for so long.
Community Manager Jared makes another disinterested noise, his expression turning bland.
Vodka: I’ll be back after the next show. We can just run a lost episode this week. They’re on my computer in the folder marked ‘JARED IF YOU EVER POST THESE I’LL KILL YOU.’
Community Manager Jared raises his eyebrow again and Vodka shrugs.
Vodka: Extenuating circumstances. I had them saved in case of an emergency. I'd try and put something new together, but between this whole Natalie thing and wrestling, my head hasn’t really been in the game.
Community Manager Jared suddenly looks interested again and Vodka chuckles.
Vodka: I know right? One more match, and I get a crack at the FIRESIDE champion. I honestly never thought I’d be in this position, but there’s something about this place that just vibes with me, man. Now if I’m not mistaken, I’m the longest reigning Spark champion. I’ve got a pinfall victory over the current reigning world champion. I almost won the X-Crown, and I won two network awards. It’s starting to feel like I’m actually good at this.
Community Manager Jared actually smiles. Vodka looks shocked, and then like he's going to cry, biting down on his fist to fight off the surge of emotion.
Vodka: I… Damn. I don’t know what to say. That means a lot.
Community Manager Jared nods, and Vodka laughs, wiping away invisible tears.
Vodka: Well, you tell the crew that I appreciate that, and I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure I prove that that faith in me isn’t misplaced. I’m gonna go into the ring and I’m gonna kick open one more door, and then I’m gonna step up to the champion, I’m gonna offer them my hand and I’m gonna thank them for keeping my spot warm til I was ready to take it.
Community Manager Jared’s expression turns unreadable, and Vodka nods.
Vodka: Yeah. Even if it’s Nat.
Both men are silent for a moment until Vodka’s phone buzzes on the table. He picks it up, swiping at the screen. Community Manager Jared looks curious, and Vodka looks up at the monitor with a sly half grin.
Vodka: Natalie’s asking if I’m done with work yet. Time for cardio. I’ll catch you later; if anything goes nuclear, hit me up.
Community Manager Jared nods, and Vodka holds up his fist to the camera like a fist bump.
Vodka: You know it, bro.
Vodka taps at a few keys, and the screens go back to a desktop picture of him and Natalie. He exits the makeshift office, and the feed cuts to black.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The scene opens up pointing out over what appears to be someone’s backyard. There are trees in the distance, and the last vestiges of sunlight create a kind of ethereal effect. And it is when Vodka Fizz enters in his gaudy ring gear and the various accouterments glimmer in the waning light, making him look as if he is shining that the choice of shot makes sense.
Vodka: One of the first things you learn about when you start making videos is the magic hour. It’s a time of day when the sunlight matches up with street lights and houses and whatnot It’s not a real hour, necessarily, but it’s a time of day when it makes everything look more profound. When I was trying to think of a way to frame what I had to say, this seemed like a no brainer, especially considering the choice of venue.
Vodka grins at the camera, stalking closer. The sunlight reflecting off the rhinestones on his jacket looks like flickering flame, creating an illusion of movement even when he stops moving.
Vodka: One more match. One more defense and I become the first Spark champion to successfully trade in my title for a shot at the champion. One more loss and it’s all for nothing. Hell of a crossroads to find myself at, especially when you consider that a little more than a year ago I was the perennial loser. Since then, well, it’s a safe bet to say that the tides have turned in my favor. I’ve stepped up to every challenge that’s come my way and, if I didn;t overcome, I sure put up one hell of a fight.
Vodka grins, squatting down and making a show of stretching his legs, making sure he’s nice and limber.
Vodka: In the past three months, I nearly won the X*Crown title and I’ve got a pinfall victory over the reigning Fireside champion. I’ve been called the Heart of Fireside, and I think I’ve proven that if there’s one thing I have in spades is heart.
Vodka straightens up, stretching his arms and arching his back before he folds his arms behind his head, strolling away from the camera.
Vodka: My next challenge is Edward Zepp. And I gotta tell you, man, this guy rolled into this joint with exactly the opposite kinda vibe that I do. He was a big deal from another joint that had gone tits up. And so far, I gotta tell you, other than a couple of standout performances, Big Eddie hasn’t done too much to impress me. Sure he did alright in the early rounds of the Kindling, and he beat up that big Russian doofus the last show, but other than that Eddie’s been a name filling in spots to put over other people. Like Sam Sawyer, or Rebecca Brooks, or Apathy.
Vodka laughs, suddenly rolling forward to balance on his hands.
Vodka: Don't get me wrong, I’m not gonna marginalize what you’ve achieved elsewhere. I am going to say that if you *were* such a big deal in wherever it is you came from that I would have expected more. But so far, it seems like you’re just a Herman Munster bootleg who can talk a big game but doesn;t have the gas to step it up when it matters. Which is a shame, really, cause I was hoping that my last obstacle before facing the world champion again would be more than a baby gate bungee-strapped to a couple of fence posts, but what are you gonna do?
Vodka hand walks across the yard, wobbling slightly but managing to stay upright. Even as the sunlight fates, the crystals on his costume glimmer and flicker in the dwindling light.
Vodka: I don’t want you to assume that means that I’m underestimating you, Eddie. That isn’t what this is. I promise you that you’re going to get every bit of my best. I’m going to bring it harder than anyone you’ve ever faced off against had brought it. You’re going to get every ounce of my best, because you are the very last thing standing between me, and the opportunity to prove that I belong at the pinnacle of the company.
Vodka rolls back onto his feet with a flourish.
Vodka: Point is, my road doesn’t end with you. My road doesn’t even end with the FIRESIDE world championship, or the X*Crown. My road doesn’t end until there’s nothing left to overcome. You had your chance to prove you were the hero, Zepp. You had your chance to become the face of the company, and I was pulling for you. Not very often you get a guy with the sort of natural ability and the sort of in-built story that a guy like Eddie Zepp brings to the table. You should have been a monster, but so far all you’ve proven to be is a Groovie Ghoulie, and your cadre of cartoon sidekicks certainly haven’t helped with that.
Vodka turns his attention to the camera now, walking towards it with a wide, confident grin on his face.
Vodka: Let’s call this what it is, Zepp. This is a sacrifice. The boss had hopes for you, and you let him down. The people had faith in you, and you let them down. You had a spark of greatness, but rather than leaning into it, rather than nurturing that fire you’ve let it fizzle out. Sure, you could turn it around. All you need is one good match, right? Too bad that your next match is against me.
Vodka's expression hardens, and with the illusion of dancing flames reflected off of his eyes, for an instant his visage appears like that of a demon.
Vodka: You may be used to being a big deal. You might be used to being treated like a monster. I don't know you from Uncle Fester, Eddie. but I will tell you this. You've been unlucky enough to end up in the ring from a self-made monster. Everything I out myself through to get to this point is finally coming together, building into a raging inferno that can't be stopped. If I were you, I'd just count my blessings that I don't have a taste for meatloaf.
Vodka winks at the camera.
Vodka: See ya soon big guy.
Vodka saunters off, whistling 'The Time Warp' rather horribly off key. The camera pans to the horizon, fading to dark in time with the setting sun.
Vodka: ….And they’re serious about this shit?
There is no indication of any kind of reaction from Community Manager Jared, but Vodka sighs, rubbing his forehead.
Vodka: Yes, I know you would have asked. Alright. Alright. Here’s what we’ll do. Tell them we’ll accept, but the number needs to be 10% higher just to cover costs. We need to make something off of this, and what they’re offering’ll just barely break us even.
Community Manager Jared shifts slightly, making a barely audible huff, and Vodka grins.
Vodka: I know you will, buddy. There’s a reason I left you in charge.
Community manager Jared quirks one of his eyebrows, and Vodka’s expression turns rather dour again.
Vodka: Yeah, Natalie’s doing alright. Or she says she is. That whole awards show thing really freaked me out, man. But she’s OK. More’n anything she’s been pissed off about that whole thing at Supremacy with Caffrey and Cochrane. I’ve talked her down from going and eviscerating the man that signs my paycheck about a dozen times.
Community Manager Jarad shifts over to his other arm, a sly look appearing on his face.
Vodka: A gentleman doesn’t ask and a lady doesn’t tell, my friend. Although I will say we had to redirect that energy somewhere.
Community Manager Jared raises his eyebrows, and Vodka grinned.
Vodka: Anyway, leave it at ‘Natalie’s doing fine.’ She said to tell you she said hello, by the way, and that she’s sending you and the rest of the crew a care package for being so understanding about me being here for so long.
Community Manager Jared makes another disinterested noise, his expression turning bland.
Vodka: I’ll be back after the next show. We can just run a lost episode this week. They’re on my computer in the folder marked ‘JARED IF YOU EVER POST THESE I’LL KILL YOU.’
Community Manager Jared raises his eyebrow again and Vodka shrugs.
Vodka: Extenuating circumstances. I had them saved in case of an emergency. I'd try and put something new together, but between this whole Natalie thing and wrestling, my head hasn’t really been in the game.
Community Manager Jared suddenly looks interested again and Vodka chuckles.
Vodka: I know right? One more match, and I get a crack at the FIRESIDE champion. I honestly never thought I’d be in this position, but there’s something about this place that just vibes with me, man. Now if I’m not mistaken, I’m the longest reigning Spark champion. I’ve got a pinfall victory over the current reigning world champion. I almost won the X-Crown, and I won two network awards. It’s starting to feel like I’m actually good at this.
Community Manager Jared actually smiles. Vodka looks shocked, and then like he's going to cry, biting down on his fist to fight off the surge of emotion.
Vodka: I… Damn. I don’t know what to say. That means a lot.
Community Manager Jared nods, and Vodka laughs, wiping away invisible tears.
Vodka: Well, you tell the crew that I appreciate that, and I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure I prove that that faith in me isn’t misplaced. I’m gonna go into the ring and I’m gonna kick open one more door, and then I’m gonna step up to the champion, I’m gonna offer them my hand and I’m gonna thank them for keeping my spot warm til I was ready to take it.
Community Manager Jared’s expression turns unreadable, and Vodka nods.
Vodka: Yeah. Even if it’s Nat.
Both men are silent for a moment until Vodka’s phone buzzes on the table. He picks it up, swiping at the screen. Community Manager Jared looks curious, and Vodka looks up at the monitor with a sly half grin.
Vodka: Natalie’s asking if I’m done with work yet. Time for cardio. I’ll catch you later; if anything goes nuclear, hit me up.
Community Manager Jared nods, and Vodka holds up his fist to the camera like a fist bump.
Vodka: You know it, bro.
Vodka taps at a few keys, and the screens go back to a desktop picture of him and Natalie. He exits the makeshift office, and the feed cuts to black.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The scene opens up pointing out over what appears to be someone’s backyard. There are trees in the distance, and the last vestiges of sunlight create a kind of ethereal effect. And it is when Vodka Fizz enters in his gaudy ring gear and the various accouterments glimmer in the waning light, making him look as if he is shining that the choice of shot makes sense.
Vodka: One of the first things you learn about when you start making videos is the magic hour. It’s a time of day when the sunlight matches up with street lights and houses and whatnot It’s not a real hour, necessarily, but it’s a time of day when it makes everything look more profound. When I was trying to think of a way to frame what I had to say, this seemed like a no brainer, especially considering the choice of venue.
Vodka grins at the camera, stalking closer. The sunlight reflecting off the rhinestones on his jacket looks like flickering flame, creating an illusion of movement even when he stops moving.
Vodka: One more match. One more defense and I become the first Spark champion to successfully trade in my title for a shot at the champion. One more loss and it’s all for nothing. Hell of a crossroads to find myself at, especially when you consider that a little more than a year ago I was the perennial loser. Since then, well, it’s a safe bet to say that the tides have turned in my favor. I’ve stepped up to every challenge that’s come my way and, if I didn;t overcome, I sure put up one hell of a fight.
Vodka grins, squatting down and making a show of stretching his legs, making sure he’s nice and limber.
Vodka: In the past three months, I nearly won the X*Crown title and I’ve got a pinfall victory over the reigning Fireside champion. I’ve been called the Heart of Fireside, and I think I’ve proven that if there’s one thing I have in spades is heart.
Vodka straightens up, stretching his arms and arching his back before he folds his arms behind his head, strolling away from the camera.
Vodka: My next challenge is Edward Zepp. And I gotta tell you, man, this guy rolled into this joint with exactly the opposite kinda vibe that I do. He was a big deal from another joint that had gone tits up. And so far, I gotta tell you, other than a couple of standout performances, Big Eddie hasn’t done too much to impress me. Sure he did alright in the early rounds of the Kindling, and he beat up that big Russian doofus the last show, but other than that Eddie’s been a name filling in spots to put over other people. Like Sam Sawyer, or Rebecca Brooks, or Apathy.
Vodka laughs, suddenly rolling forward to balance on his hands.
Vodka: Don't get me wrong, I’m not gonna marginalize what you’ve achieved elsewhere. I am going to say that if you *were* such a big deal in wherever it is you came from that I would have expected more. But so far, it seems like you’re just a Herman Munster bootleg who can talk a big game but doesn;t have the gas to step it up when it matters. Which is a shame, really, cause I was hoping that my last obstacle before facing the world champion again would be more than a baby gate bungee-strapped to a couple of fence posts, but what are you gonna do?
Vodka hand walks across the yard, wobbling slightly but managing to stay upright. Even as the sunlight fates, the crystals on his costume glimmer and flicker in the dwindling light.
Vodka: I don’t want you to assume that means that I’m underestimating you, Eddie. That isn’t what this is. I promise you that you’re going to get every bit of my best. I’m going to bring it harder than anyone you’ve ever faced off against had brought it. You’re going to get every ounce of my best, because you are the very last thing standing between me, and the opportunity to prove that I belong at the pinnacle of the company.
Vodka rolls back onto his feet with a flourish.
Vodka: Point is, my road doesn’t end with you. My road doesn’t even end with the FIRESIDE world championship, or the X*Crown. My road doesn’t end until there’s nothing left to overcome. You had your chance to prove you were the hero, Zepp. You had your chance to become the face of the company, and I was pulling for you. Not very often you get a guy with the sort of natural ability and the sort of in-built story that a guy like Eddie Zepp brings to the table. You should have been a monster, but so far all you’ve proven to be is a Groovie Ghoulie, and your cadre of cartoon sidekicks certainly haven’t helped with that.
Vodka turns his attention to the camera now, walking towards it with a wide, confident grin on his face.
Vodka: Let’s call this what it is, Zepp. This is a sacrifice. The boss had hopes for you, and you let him down. The people had faith in you, and you let them down. You had a spark of greatness, but rather than leaning into it, rather than nurturing that fire you’ve let it fizzle out. Sure, you could turn it around. All you need is one good match, right? Too bad that your next match is against me.
Vodka's expression hardens, and with the illusion of dancing flames reflected off of his eyes, for an instant his visage appears like that of a demon.
Vodka: You may be used to being a big deal. You might be used to being treated like a monster. I don't know you from Uncle Fester, Eddie. but I will tell you this. You've been unlucky enough to end up in the ring from a self-made monster. Everything I out myself through to get to this point is finally coming together, building into a raging inferno that can't be stopped. If I were you, I'd just count my blessings that I don't have a taste for meatloaf.
Vodka winks at the camera.
Vodka: See ya soon big guy.
Vodka saunters off, whistling 'The Time Warp' rather horribly off key. The camera pans to the horizon, fading to dark in time with the setting sun.