Gaining and Losing (Copycat)
Mar 8, 2023 12:09:37 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Dave D-Flipz, and 4 more like this
Post by ForeverKuroi on Mar 8, 2023 12:09:37 GMT -5
Fade in. But not by much. The room is dark, and there’s not much in the room other than a loose light bulb, attached to a dim light bulb. Under the light bulb is a person sitting on a chair. Wait, a person? It’s hard to tell. They’re wearing a grey shirt and a bag is over their head. They stir an unpleasant awakening as the squeaky metal door swings open. A man in a military outfit barges in and rips the bag off the head, showing an Asian man, adorned with bruises.
Prisoner: 你想要什么?让我走! (“What do you want? Let me go!”)
Soldier: Enough of this shit. I know you speak English.
The prisoner sighs and then starts to speak English in a thick accent.
Prisoner: Please. I don’t know anything. I’m just a student on a visa, and-
Soldier: Oh, fuck off. We saw your visa. You’re from China, and we caught you trying to pick up the fallen equipment from that surveillance balloon your country dropped.
Prisoner: It was a weather balloon! I’m studying to be a meteorologist, and-
Soldier: SAVE THE BULLSHIT! America has too much to deal with at the moment. We’re on the brink of nuclear war with Russia, and now we have you acting shifty and testing our patience. No, we aren’t going to stand for it. You’re going to tell us what China wants right now!
Prisoner: I’m telling you the truth!
Soldier: Oh yeah? Then I guess you won’t mind what we’re going to have to you now.
Prisoner: You’re going to… torture me?
The soldier smirks.
Soldier: Oh boy, when we’re done with you, you’re going to WISH we were torturing you.
The soldier looks over his shoulder, to the outside of the room.
Soldier: Bring him in.
The soldier offers one more sadistic smile before he walks over.
Prisoner: …What are you going to do to me?
The light flickers on.
Prisoner: Enhanced interrogation's been scrutinized in the news. But here at the CIA, have found a much more effective way hiding in plain sight. And by plain sight, I mean it's hidden in our very own constitution. Do you want to know which amendment?
The prisoner doesn’t answer. He just gulps with a cold sweat glistening over his forehead. That’s when someone walks into the room and looks at the prisoner. The brief second of silence lasts several minutes to the prisoner.
Voice: Hiya, Furanku! It's Copycat. Nice to meet you in person this time!
The man is clearly not Furanku. The soldier gives a hearty chuckle.
Soldier: It’s the freedom of speech.
Copycat takes the seat opposite the table from the prisoner.
Copycat: Mr. Officer-man over here told me that you want to hear all about my crazy adventures about my pregnancy. Not sure when I actually got pregnant, but I can tell you about this one night when I drank a heck of this thing. Mr. Bradshaw told me it was wine. Not much of a drinker myself, but it helps when it’s cold. Kind of funny though because I hear alcohol actually lowers your body temperature and makes you think that you’re feeling warm.
The soldier starts to understand this method’s effectiveness. His eyes grow baggy and his skin clammy. Copycat, of course, is oblivious to the reaction to his ranting.
Copycat: So anyways, I woke up during the middle of the night and Mr. Bradshaw threw a party in my box. Oh and box wasn’t a euphemism. I actually lived in a cardboard box. There were a lot of people there. Reeshi was there. A lot of Terry Bradshaw’s wolves. Jeffrey Viper too. He brought a guy who looked like Charlie Chaplin, and called him Mongo. I don’t see the resemblance. …Oh. I hadn’t even caught you up about what Jeffrey Viper’s been up to lately. Anyways.
The sound of a gradually increasing heart beat drowns everything else in the room. The camera zooms out until we see this…
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
The scene fades to the inside of Copycat’s house. He’s sitting down on a recliner, extended for full use, with a bowl of popcorn on a nearby accent table.
Copycat: So I kept talking, just like the soldier asked me to. I think maybe he was playing a game? The more I kept talking, the more he kept screaming. Then his screaming startled me so I started screaming. And weirdly enough, when I started screaming, I even startled myself, which made me scream even louder! Have you ever screamed twice in a row? Then the guy started admitting to stuff and I don’t know what the heck he’s on, and the soldiers escorted me out. It was a shame. Anyways, enough about me. How are you doing, buddy? Still in pain from that GUNS show?
The camera flips over to a very new friend of Copycat, delicately sipping on a glass of red wine.
Zoran: Zere’s no need to worry about me, my friend. You only need to worry about yourself. Don’t forget you have a match coming up. Keep your eye on ze prize, because this is a championship match... don’t forget.
Copycat: Ah, that’s right! I haven’t had one of those since Supremacy, when I wrestled Dylan, Steve, Raiden, and y…
Copycat stopped as he realized what he was about to say. His cheeks grow sheepishly red.
Zoran: Copycat, you fought quite well. You should be proud. Are zere any concerns on your mind?
Copycat: A ton. First off, this is wrestling so I can't rely on the Copycorvette. Then I'm up against my baby's namesake, El Rey! Let's not even get into the most evil man in the Network, Lord Dominicus! He wouldn't even play Mario Kart with me! Then the others... Armbishi and Ollie, for instance. I let them down when I didn't win the X*Crown at Supremacy. All of these are great racers and likely great wrestlers too! Not only am I not that great, but I'm now pregnant on top of that. Speaking of which, just... Look at me! I can barely see you over my stomach! There's a weight limit for the Junior Heavyweight Championship!
Zoran: Last time I checked, it was 220 pounds. How much do you weigh?
Copycat: I have a scale in the bathroom! Let’s check!
Copycat bounces off of his seat, where he accidentally knocks over the bowl of popcorn. He falls onto all fours and begins to lap up the popcorn like an animal. Zoran stares incredulously.
Zoran: Perhaps snacking can be done after you weigh for ze match?
Copycat responds with a smile. They head over to the bathroom.
Zoran: 221 pounds. One pound over.
Copycat: WHAT!? That can’t be! The match is going to come up very soon!
Zoran: It’s only a pound. Surely it won’t be zat bad.
Copycat: But I’m PREGNANT. I’m supposed to be GAINING weight. I know! I’ll just start vomiting a whole bunch!
Zoran: Zat doesn’t seem healthy. Are you sure zis is something you want to do?
Copycat: I HAVE TO!
Copycat starts to shove his fingers down his throat. However, Zoran acts quickly and intervenes.
Zoran: You know, ‘zere is a better way. Let’s just focus on our eating and exercize. I’ll assist.
A video montage plays.
Zoran stands in front of Copycat on a treadmill, chasing after a slice of cake that Zoran is holding. As Copycat starts to huff and puff. Zoran hands him a stick of celery stuffed with peanut butter with his other hand. Copycat unhappily chomps down. The video changes to Copycat in front of a set of stairs that looks like this.
Sainovic shoots words of encouragement to Copycat, who is wearing sweats. He struggles, but assuredly forces himself to get to the top and once he gets there, Copycat begins dancing up top.
As the scene ends, the camera cuts to the night before the match.
Zoran: Alright, Copycat. Zis is it. Let’s see all ze weight you lost.
Copycat: It’s been a tough week, but let’s go!
Copycat sets onto the scale.
Zoran: …222 pounds.
Copycat: WHAT!? I GAINED WEIGHT!?
Zoran: …Maybe it waz muscle.
Copycat: I’M GOING TO GO THROW UP NOW!
Copycat immediately runs to the bathroom where he puts his fingers down his throat and immediately vomits. Zoran sighs.
The scene cuts to the weigh in for the match. Copycat steps on the scale.
Official: Alright, Copycat. 219 pounds. Congratulations. You’re good to go for the match!
Zoran pats Copycat on the shoulder from behind.
Zoran: Congratulations, Copycat. Now go win your belt, and become a better provider for your child!
Copycat smiles. He lost weight, but he also gained a friend.
Prisoner: 你想要什么?让我走! (“What do you want? Let me go!”)
Soldier: Enough of this shit. I know you speak English.
The prisoner sighs and then starts to speak English in a thick accent.
Prisoner: Please. I don’t know anything. I’m just a student on a visa, and-
Soldier: Oh, fuck off. We saw your visa. You’re from China, and we caught you trying to pick up the fallen equipment from that surveillance balloon your country dropped.
Prisoner: It was a weather balloon! I’m studying to be a meteorologist, and-
Soldier: SAVE THE BULLSHIT! America has too much to deal with at the moment. We’re on the brink of nuclear war with Russia, and now we have you acting shifty and testing our patience. No, we aren’t going to stand for it. You’re going to tell us what China wants right now!
Prisoner: I’m telling you the truth!
Soldier: Oh yeah? Then I guess you won’t mind what we’re going to have to you now.
Prisoner: You’re going to… torture me?
The soldier smirks.
Soldier: Oh boy, when we’re done with you, you’re going to WISH we were torturing you.
The soldier looks over his shoulder, to the outside of the room.
Soldier: Bring him in.
The soldier offers one more sadistic smile before he walks over.
Prisoner: …What are you going to do to me?
The light flickers on.
Prisoner: Enhanced interrogation's been scrutinized in the news. But here at the CIA, have found a much more effective way hiding in plain sight. And by plain sight, I mean it's hidden in our very own constitution. Do you want to know which amendment?
The prisoner doesn’t answer. He just gulps with a cold sweat glistening over his forehead. That’s when someone walks into the room and looks at the prisoner. The brief second of silence lasts several minutes to the prisoner.
Voice: Hiya, Furanku! It's Copycat. Nice to meet you in person this time!
The man is clearly not Furanku. The soldier gives a hearty chuckle.
Soldier: It’s the freedom of speech.
Copycat takes the seat opposite the table from the prisoner.
Copycat: Mr. Officer-man over here told me that you want to hear all about my crazy adventures about my pregnancy. Not sure when I actually got pregnant, but I can tell you about this one night when I drank a heck of this thing. Mr. Bradshaw told me it was wine. Not much of a drinker myself, but it helps when it’s cold. Kind of funny though because I hear alcohol actually lowers your body temperature and makes you think that you’re feeling warm.
The soldier starts to understand this method’s effectiveness. His eyes grow baggy and his skin clammy. Copycat, of course, is oblivious to the reaction to his ranting.
Copycat: So anyways, I woke up during the middle of the night and Mr. Bradshaw threw a party in my box. Oh and box wasn’t a euphemism. I actually lived in a cardboard box. There were a lot of people there. Reeshi was there. A lot of Terry Bradshaw’s wolves. Jeffrey Viper too. He brought a guy who looked like Charlie Chaplin, and called him Mongo. I don’t see the resemblance. …Oh. I hadn’t even caught you up about what Jeffrey Viper’s been up to lately. Anyways.
The sound of a gradually increasing heart beat drowns everything else in the room. The camera zooms out until we see this…
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
The scene fades to the inside of Copycat’s house. He’s sitting down on a recliner, extended for full use, with a bowl of popcorn on a nearby accent table.
Copycat: So I kept talking, just like the soldier asked me to. I think maybe he was playing a game? The more I kept talking, the more he kept screaming. Then his screaming startled me so I started screaming. And weirdly enough, when I started screaming, I even startled myself, which made me scream even louder! Have you ever screamed twice in a row? Then the guy started admitting to stuff and I don’t know what the heck he’s on, and the soldiers escorted me out. It was a shame. Anyways, enough about me. How are you doing, buddy? Still in pain from that GUNS show?
The camera flips over to a very new friend of Copycat, delicately sipping on a glass of red wine.
Zoran: Zere’s no need to worry about me, my friend. You only need to worry about yourself. Don’t forget you have a match coming up. Keep your eye on ze prize, because this is a championship match... don’t forget.
Copycat: Ah, that’s right! I haven’t had one of those since Supremacy, when I wrestled Dylan, Steve, Raiden, and y…
Copycat stopped as he realized what he was about to say. His cheeks grow sheepishly red.
Zoran: Copycat, you fought quite well. You should be proud. Are zere any concerns on your mind?
Copycat: A ton. First off, this is wrestling so I can't rely on the Copycorvette. Then I'm up against my baby's namesake, El Rey! Let's not even get into the most evil man in the Network, Lord Dominicus! He wouldn't even play Mario Kart with me! Then the others... Armbishi and Ollie, for instance. I let them down when I didn't win the X*Crown at Supremacy. All of these are great racers and likely great wrestlers too! Not only am I not that great, but I'm now pregnant on top of that. Speaking of which, just... Look at me! I can barely see you over my stomach! There's a weight limit for the Junior Heavyweight Championship!
Zoran: Last time I checked, it was 220 pounds. How much do you weigh?
Copycat: I have a scale in the bathroom! Let’s check!
Copycat bounces off of his seat, where he accidentally knocks over the bowl of popcorn. He falls onto all fours and begins to lap up the popcorn like an animal. Zoran stares incredulously.
Zoran: Perhaps snacking can be done after you weigh for ze match?
Copycat responds with a smile. They head over to the bathroom.
Zoran: 221 pounds. One pound over.
Copycat: WHAT!? That can’t be! The match is going to come up very soon!
Zoran: It’s only a pound. Surely it won’t be zat bad.
Copycat: But I’m PREGNANT. I’m supposed to be GAINING weight. I know! I’ll just start vomiting a whole bunch!
Zoran: Zat doesn’t seem healthy. Are you sure zis is something you want to do?
Copycat: I HAVE TO!
Copycat starts to shove his fingers down his throat. However, Zoran acts quickly and intervenes.
Zoran: You know, ‘zere is a better way. Let’s just focus on our eating and exercize. I’ll assist.
A video montage plays.
Zoran stands in front of Copycat on a treadmill, chasing after a slice of cake that Zoran is holding. As Copycat starts to huff and puff. Zoran hands him a stick of celery stuffed with peanut butter with his other hand. Copycat unhappily chomps down. The video changes to Copycat in front of a set of stairs that looks like this.
Sainovic shoots words of encouragement to Copycat, who is wearing sweats. He struggles, but assuredly forces himself to get to the top and once he gets there, Copycat begins dancing up top.
As the scene ends, the camera cuts to the night before the match.
Zoran: Alright, Copycat. Zis is it. Let’s see all ze weight you lost.
Copycat: It’s been a tough week, but let’s go!
Copycat sets onto the scale.
Zoran: …222 pounds.
Copycat: WHAT!? I GAINED WEIGHT!?
Zoran: …Maybe it waz muscle.
Copycat: I’M GOING TO GO THROW UP NOW!
Copycat immediately runs to the bathroom where he puts his fingers down his throat and immediately vomits. Zoran sighs.
The scene cuts to the weigh in for the match. Copycat steps on the scale.
Official: Alright, Copycat. 219 pounds. Congratulations. You’re good to go for the match!
Zoran pats Copycat on the shoulder from behind.
Zoran: Congratulations, Copycat. Now go win your belt, and become a better provider for your child!
Copycat smiles. He lost weight, but he also gained a friend.