¡El rey de la frontera salvaje! (Junior Title Match)
Mar 12, 2023 21:26:39 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, bloodiedfox, and 1 more like this
Post by Visit Neom on Mar 12, 2023 21:26:39 GMT -5
(The shot opens in front of Marty's house in Celebration, Florida. Olivia Oldham gets out of a car and smells the air. She smiles as a wave of nostalgia hits.)
Ollie: Hey, someone is smoking Padrón cigars! That’s my dad’s favorite.
(Realization sets in and her expression slowly turns to horror.)
Ollie: Oh, this is bad.
(Dreading what's to come, she slowly follows her nose to the pool. Deacon Oldham, a cross between Sam Elliot and Don Frye, sits in a gilly suit by the water. He takes a swig of beer.)
Deacon: Pumpkin! I bet you're wondering what I'm doing here.
Ollie: Not as much as I'm wondering what he's doing there.
(She points up. At the top of a tree cowers Marty.)
Deacon: I'm afraid Mr.Donovan has decided he'd rather starve to death in a tree than accept my overly generous offer.
Ollie: Which was?
Deacon: To die on his feet like a man.
Marty: He’s hunting me because of some ridiculous rumor that I proposed to you!
Ollie: Why would that be ridiculous?
Deacon: Liar! The news was on facebook. They don’t just post anything there.
(Ollie shows her ringless hands.)
Ollie: That’s called clickbait, dad. Totally bogus. Marty would have got your blessing. Next time give me a call first and save yourself a 10 hour flight dressed as Swamp Thing.
(Marty climbs down the tree and offers a handshake.)
Marty: Mr.Oldham,I know that as a devout, baptist father you hold certain expectations. Montana is far away, but you have my word as a man. Nothing is going on here behind your back.
(Sensing Marty’s sincerity he reluctantly shakes hands.)
Deacon: Perhaps with time my open hatred of you will soften to a silent resentment.
Marty: You’ve been running around in the bigfoot cosplay all day. How about we get you a nice change of clothes? Babe, is that box of Jackalope shirts still in our bedroom?
(Deacon chokes on his beer as Ollie’s jaw drops in utter disbelief. Marty doesn’t notice.)
Ollie: In YOUR bedroom? I know the box isn't in MY bedroom. It might still be in YOUR bedroom.
Marty: Funny, when I wanted to hang up that frozen carbonite statue of Zoran you said it would ruin our room. Now a heavy box has to be carried and we’re just going to pretend you’re not in there every night?
(Deacon shatters the beer bottle and Marty is somehow already halfway back up the tree. Ollie leaps in between them.)
Ollie: I WAS TEACHING AN ORPHAN TO PILLOW FIGHT!
(Deacon halts in confusion. Ollie scrambles to bring up the XHF card on her phone.)
Deacon: What?
Ollie: There is going to be a special pillow fight at the CAR show. The sweetest little boy named Tinto signed up and winning would mean the world to him. We’ve been using Marty’s room to practice pillow fights.
(Ollie and Marty share a look, knowing it was time to lie their asses off.)
Deacon: I don't understand. They let a child in a match meant for grown men?
Marty: The opposite, sir! This pillow fight was intended for children and a bunch of soy bois joined. There was a loophole that anyone under 220 pounds could enter.
(She begins to scroll through the other entrants on her phone. They look at a picture of El Rey.)
Marty: Yeah, this punk is the captain of the junior varsity lacrosse team. He's mad about never playing with the big boys and wishes there were more participation trophies. Worst of all, his name is in Spanish!
(Deacon spits in disgust as they point to a picture of Ian Brundle.)
Ollie: Yeah, take this guy for example. He is a scientist. He wants to use this match to push his platform on the dangers of global warming!
Deacon: Why didn't he pick something more realistic like the tooth fairy?
Marty: It gets worse, sir! Look at Lord Dominicus here. This guy is a Fauci fanatic. He wants to make sure everyone wears masks all the time, even in the shower!
Deacon: I didn’t fight in Desert Storm to be told who I can cough on!
Ollie: Ambishi is a furry. They're a subculture that likes to dress up as different animals.
Deacon: You mean wear the furs of things they've hunted?
Ollie: No, weird animals like magenta foxes with mermaid tails. They have orgies too!
Marty: Premarital sex! Who would ever do such a thing?
(Deacon’s cigar drops from his mouth in horror.)
Deacon: Does homeland security know about furries?
(Ollie looks at Copycat’s picture and runs out of ideas.)
Ollie: This guy…um..he is…um...
Marty: Copycat is the most despicable of them all, sir.
(The camera zooms in on Marty's face.)
Marty: He's homeless.
(Deacon howls and tosses his chair into the pool.)
Marty: So now you understand the noble reason why your daughter's shoes are in my bedroom.
Deacon: Sweetie, this is one of the kindest things you've ever done. Training the orphan isn't enough. You need to enter this match yourself and ensure he wins. What a sight that will be when a child and woman beat some woke wimps.
Ollie: What!??! I'm not a wrestler.
Deacon: Sure, but it can’t be that hard. Marty is the champion of the world. Now get in the pool for my Seal training.
Marty: I’ll go get some swimsuit from our...seperate rooms.
(Marty gives a not subtle at all wink as Ollie shakes her head in frustration.)
El Rey. There is something I need to tell you. Hell, I can’t believe nobody else has told you this, but maybe the boys respect or fear your old man too much.
You're not cut out for this.
Not trash talk, it’s the truth. You're having a nervous breakdown over a fucking pillow fight. A match where half of the field aren't even wrestlers. A battle where 50 percent of your opponents are retired Disney princesses, earth science teachers, and orphans.
That’s the murders row giving you a "mom's spaghetti" moment?
Dude, just hang up the boots. Is Venom pressuring you into this? He doesn't run any side business that needs an assistant manager? You already give off total "my Dad owns a dealership" vibes.
Then you had the nerve to call me out. Do you have a death wish? I am fresh off beating Zoran to a bloody pulp. You prolly know him as Zaddy. He's the former world champion that helps you with those clip-on ties.
Worst of all, you said you'd punch Olivia in the face. You realize they are still finding pieces of Fox in that Denny's kitchen? People are getting omelets with Cain's teeth in them. All he did was say one bad word. If you lay a finger on Ollie, or Tinto for that matter, I hit the ring. One hand is grabbing your pouty lips, the other is taking hold of that gelled up There’s Something About Mary hairdo and I start yanking.
You think you're a big man because you had the X*Crown. I don't have an ounce of respect for the XHF or Mongo's insane stipulations. For all I know, you won that title in a meat raffle. I saw that little shirt you made too, celebrating wins over giants of the industry like ATV Bandit. Sure, I included your name in a comically long list of people I’d rather team with than Cross. Honestly, though, you're AnoINTERN material at most.
So here's how this is going to actually play out. You're going to stay away from my girlfriend and newsie during the pillow fight. Feel free to slap around Lord Dominicus or whatever, but when the time comes you're going to eliminate yourself.
Next, you accept your actual role in this industry. You're David Crockett and I don't mean the king of the wild frontier. You’re the boss's useless son that they stick with a microphone and JC Penny coat. You’ll get to stutter through some softball questions on a cringe Pokemon tribute show. Most importantly, you carry Tinto’s bag, drive him to the shows, and fetch juice boxes. It doesn’t matter that he’s only seven years old, Rey.
Everyone knows who the real young boy is.
Ollie: Hey, someone is smoking Padrón cigars! That’s my dad’s favorite.
(Realization sets in and her expression slowly turns to horror.)
Ollie: Oh, this is bad.
(Dreading what's to come, she slowly follows her nose to the pool. Deacon Oldham, a cross between Sam Elliot and Don Frye, sits in a gilly suit by the water. He takes a swig of beer.)
Deacon: Pumpkin! I bet you're wondering what I'm doing here.
Ollie: Not as much as I'm wondering what he's doing there.
(She points up. At the top of a tree cowers Marty.)
Deacon: I'm afraid Mr.Donovan has decided he'd rather starve to death in a tree than accept my overly generous offer.
Ollie: Which was?
Deacon: To die on his feet like a man.
Marty: He’s hunting me because of some ridiculous rumor that I proposed to you!
Ollie: Why would that be ridiculous?
Deacon: Liar! The news was on facebook. They don’t just post anything there.
(Ollie shows her ringless hands.)
Ollie: That’s called clickbait, dad. Totally bogus. Marty would have got your blessing. Next time give me a call first and save yourself a 10 hour flight dressed as Swamp Thing.
(Marty climbs down the tree and offers a handshake.)
Marty: Mr.Oldham,I know that as a devout, baptist father you hold certain expectations. Montana is far away, but you have my word as a man. Nothing is going on here behind your back.
(Sensing Marty’s sincerity he reluctantly shakes hands.)
Deacon: Perhaps with time my open hatred of you will soften to a silent resentment.
Marty: You’ve been running around in the bigfoot cosplay all day. How about we get you a nice change of clothes? Babe, is that box of Jackalope shirts still in our bedroom?
(Deacon chokes on his beer as Ollie’s jaw drops in utter disbelief. Marty doesn’t notice.)
Ollie: In YOUR bedroom? I know the box isn't in MY bedroom. It might still be in YOUR bedroom.
Marty: Funny, when I wanted to hang up that frozen carbonite statue of Zoran you said it would ruin our room. Now a heavy box has to be carried and we’re just going to pretend you’re not in there every night?
(Deacon shatters the beer bottle and Marty is somehow already halfway back up the tree. Ollie leaps in between them.)
Ollie: I WAS TEACHING AN ORPHAN TO PILLOW FIGHT!
(Deacon halts in confusion. Ollie scrambles to bring up the XHF card on her phone.)
Deacon: What?
Ollie: There is going to be a special pillow fight at the CAR show. The sweetest little boy named Tinto signed up and winning would mean the world to him. We’ve been using Marty’s room to practice pillow fights.
(Ollie and Marty share a look, knowing it was time to lie their asses off.)
Deacon: I don't understand. They let a child in a match meant for grown men?
Marty: The opposite, sir! This pillow fight was intended for children and a bunch of soy bois joined. There was a loophole that anyone under 220 pounds could enter.
(She begins to scroll through the other entrants on her phone. They look at a picture of El Rey.)
Marty: Yeah, this punk is the captain of the junior varsity lacrosse team. He's mad about never playing with the big boys and wishes there were more participation trophies. Worst of all, his name is in Spanish!
(Deacon spits in disgust as they point to a picture of Ian Brundle.)
Ollie: Yeah, take this guy for example. He is a scientist. He wants to use this match to push his platform on the dangers of global warming!
Deacon: Why didn't he pick something more realistic like the tooth fairy?
Marty: It gets worse, sir! Look at Lord Dominicus here. This guy is a Fauci fanatic. He wants to make sure everyone wears masks all the time, even in the shower!
Deacon: I didn’t fight in Desert Storm to be told who I can cough on!
Ollie: Ambishi is a furry. They're a subculture that likes to dress up as different animals.
Deacon: You mean wear the furs of things they've hunted?
Ollie: No, weird animals like magenta foxes with mermaid tails. They have orgies too!
Marty: Premarital sex! Who would ever do such a thing?
(Deacon’s cigar drops from his mouth in horror.)
Deacon: Does homeland security know about furries?
(Ollie looks at Copycat’s picture and runs out of ideas.)
Ollie: This guy…um..he is…um...
Marty: Copycat is the most despicable of them all, sir.
(The camera zooms in on Marty's face.)
Marty: He's homeless.
(Deacon howls and tosses his chair into the pool.)
Marty: So now you understand the noble reason why your daughter's shoes are in my bedroom.
Deacon: Sweetie, this is one of the kindest things you've ever done. Training the orphan isn't enough. You need to enter this match yourself and ensure he wins. What a sight that will be when a child and woman beat some woke wimps.
Ollie: What!??! I'm not a wrestler.
Deacon: Sure, but it can’t be that hard. Marty is the champion of the world. Now get in the pool for my Seal training.
Marty: I’ll go get some swimsuit from our...seperate rooms.
(Marty gives a not subtle at all wink as Ollie shakes her head in frustration.)
El Rey. There is something I need to tell you. Hell, I can’t believe nobody else has told you this, but maybe the boys respect or fear your old man too much.
You're not cut out for this.
Not trash talk, it’s the truth. You're having a nervous breakdown over a fucking pillow fight. A match where half of the field aren't even wrestlers. A battle where 50 percent of your opponents are retired Disney princesses, earth science teachers, and orphans.
That’s the murders row giving you a "mom's spaghetti" moment?
Dude, just hang up the boots. Is Venom pressuring you into this? He doesn't run any side business that needs an assistant manager? You already give off total "my Dad owns a dealership" vibes.
Then you had the nerve to call me out. Do you have a death wish? I am fresh off beating Zoran to a bloody pulp. You prolly know him as Zaddy. He's the former world champion that helps you with those clip-on ties.
Worst of all, you said you'd punch Olivia in the face. You realize they are still finding pieces of Fox in that Denny's kitchen? People are getting omelets with Cain's teeth in them. All he did was say one bad word. If you lay a finger on Ollie, or Tinto for that matter, I hit the ring. One hand is grabbing your pouty lips, the other is taking hold of that gelled up There’s Something About Mary hairdo and I start yanking.
You think you're a big man because you had the X*Crown. I don't have an ounce of respect for the XHF or Mongo's insane stipulations. For all I know, you won that title in a meat raffle. I saw that little shirt you made too, celebrating wins over giants of the industry like ATV Bandit. Sure, I included your name in a comically long list of people I’d rather team with than Cross. Honestly, though, you're AnoINTERN material at most.
So here's how this is going to actually play out. You're going to stay away from my girlfriend and newsie during the pillow fight. Feel free to slap around Lord Dominicus or whatever, but when the time comes you're going to eliminate yourself.
Next, you accept your actual role in this industry. You're David Crockett and I don't mean the king of the wild frontier. You’re the boss's useless son that they stick with a microphone and JC Penny coat. You’ll get to stutter through some softball questions on a cringe Pokemon tribute show. Most importantly, you carry Tinto’s bag, drive him to the shows, and fetch juice boxes. It doesn’t matter that he’s only seven years old, Rey.
Everyone knows who the real young boy is.