Rare OOP Lost Media OAV DO NOT TAPE OVER! (Lee Gorn RP)
Apr 23, 2023 7:29:19 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Venom 🕷, and 4 more like this
Post by itsjustj on Apr 23, 2023 7:29:19 GMT -5
::click:: “You know why they feed captive predators live prey? Because if they don’t, the predator gets bored and it stops eating. It needs the thrill of the hunt.” ::whir::
4-7-23
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9imCm6CrNZ8
The screen flares to life to show a ratty, frayed couch sitting in what appears to be the corner of an abandoned warehouse. The video quality is terrible, clearly recorded on a camcorder. Specifically, a very old and barely functional camcorder. A man in a letterman jacket, faded denim jeans, and vintage sneakers sits in front of the camera. The rooster mask covering his face does nothing to hide his body language. “Foggy” Lee Gorn is clearly, obviously, and interminably bored.
::click:: “So, the company you work for has gone out of business!” ::hiss::
The audio has clearly been overdubbed, but Foggy’s movements and gestures match it perfectly. The voices sound like they’ve been crudely recorded from vintage instructional videos, answering machine messages, media clips, and even wrestling promos. The sounds of the tape recorder used to play the audio are completely unedited, clicks, whirs, and hisses fully audible.
::whir:: “On one hand, you no longer have a reliable source of income, any benefits you may have earned or accrued are likely void, and-” ::click:: “-gonna end up livin’ in a VAN DOWN BY THE RIVER!” ::whir:: “...or squatting in an abandoned building somewhere.” ::whir:: “But on the other hand…” ::hiss:: “...what else is new?”. ::click:: “Next Level Wrestling’s Last Stand!” ::hiss::
Gorn pauses, head turned slightly to the side, looking at nothing in particular.
::click:: “We had a good thing going here, you know?” ::whir:: “New challengers every week!” ::whir:: “...blood, sweat, and tears…” “glorious purpose!” ::hiss:: “And now, all of those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain.”
Foggy looks directly into the camera. Deep within the mask, a flash of a bloodshot blue eye is visible for just a moment. Then the light shifts and the eyeholes on the mask are once again empty voids.
::whir:: “But now we got one last shot, one last chance at the bigtime.” ::hiss:: “I am NOT throwing away my shot!” ::click:: “These violent delights have violent ends.” ::hiss:: “I’m not stupid.” “...I know I’m not gonna win.” ::click:: “I’m just gonna hurt ya really, REALLY badly.”
Static takes over the screen before normalizing into an animated scene. An anime schoolgirl stands in a dark hallway, covered in blood. Gore and limbs are scattered around her, a bloody knife in one hand and gore-caked scissors in the other. She’s somewhere between screaming and laughing as a set of yellow eyes open in the darkness behind her. She collapses to her knees, still laughing, but the sound is now closer to sobbing as black tendrils start to materialize out of the darkness. More yellow eyes begin to open in the shadows as her left pupil constricts to a pinpoint and starts to glow. The last thing we see are dozens of yellow eyes staring from the shadows as static once again overtakes the screen.
4-17-23
The VHS artifacts are even worse in this portion of the tape. The view swings and jitters a bit as the camera is adjusted. There’s a filthy, broken cork board haphazardly nailed to the wall. Across the board are faces, crudely clipped from magazines and posters. The other participants in the Scramble. Foggy paces back and forth in front of the board, gesturing towards each picture in turn using what appears to be a golf club with the head broken off.
::click:: “Cheez!” ::hiss:: “That kid on the TV just called me a dickhead again.” ::click:: “A grown man playing video games all day-” ::whir:: “too busy watching your Japanese animations-” ::hiss:: “Playing with dolls.” ::whir:: “You are one pathetic loser!” There is a pause as Foggy slaps his leg. ::click:: “That’s a joke, son!” “You’re just a freak… like me!” ::hiss:: “But that won’t save you.” “You don’t wanna play MY game.” :click:: “Just walk away.”
The sound of a chainsaw buzzing and someone screaming is barely audible over the music.
::whir:: “The Thespian!” Foggy crosses his legs at the ankle, holding his arms out before bowing with a flourish. ::hiss:: “An enigmatic, mute(?), masked wrestler…” “Is this a mirror match?” ::click:: “You were here first.” “You’re more accomplished than me.” ::hiss:: “I gotta give credit where it’s due.” ::whir:: “But you’re distracted.” ::hiss:: “You’ve got bigger fish to fry.” “And, I’m sorry, but I gotta ask-” ::whir:: “-where does he get those wonderful toys?”
::click:: “Daisuke Miyazaki!” “We’ve met before, but something tells me you’re going to remember me this time.” ::hiss:: “Don’t forget-” “You never beat me!” ::whir:: “You never even-” ::whir:: “-beat my tag partner!” ::click:: “You beat-” “-a couple hillbillies-” ::whir:: “After a flying pig…” ::hiss:: “MY OWN PARTNER” ::whir:: “Accidentally” “-put me through a table!”
Foggy stops in front of the picture of Al Jabroni. A crude crayon drawing of a t-rex skeleton with a question mark has been pinned nearby. Foggy looks back and forth between the picture and the camera. He raises his arm to expose a wristwatch and glances down at it. As he stands silently, a beautiful baritone voice sings an Al Jolson song somewhere in the distance. Gorn stands staring at the camera for 30 seconds, occasionally glancing at the watch face before shrugging and moving on.
::hiss:: “Ai Moe!” ::whir:: “You look… HORRIBLY familiar…” “No shade-” ::click:: “Do your thing.” “Live your best life!” ::whir:: “You can train-” ::hiss:: “You can prepare-” ::whir:: “You can do everything you want” ::click:: “But at the end of the night…” ::whir:: “...we all know you’re going out on your back.” There is a long, uncomfortable silence. ::click:: “...I have to return some video tapes.”
A rough voice with a thick New Jersey accent is briefly heard in the background ranting and raving about what season it is as Foggy stops and stares at something (or someone) off-camera. There is the sound of a brief scuffle from behind the camera, several grunts, and finally muffled shouts as someone is dragged from the room. Gorn holds the golf club by both ends while cracking his neck before continuing.
::click:: “...and of course, the main event!” “The one, the only, THE KING!” “El Ray!” ::click:: “They say you’re-” “-fucking ADORABLE!” ::whir:: “They say-” “-You come at the king, you best not miss.” ::click:: “They say-” ::whir:: “You’re the man to beat.” “Now, as for me?” ::hiss:: “There are plenty of things wrong with me…” ::whir:: “Chronic anxiety - antisocial personality disorder, sociopathy…”::click:: “Good soldier with a bad attitude.” ::hiss:: “But there’s something you should know about me-” “EL RAY!” ::click:: “For all of my many, MANY flaws” ::whir:: “...I never miss.”
Gorn advances across the room, grabbing the camera.
“Thank you for your patience, your time is VERY important to us…”
The screen goes black.
“...and, as always… wear something fancy.”
4-7-23
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9imCm6CrNZ8
The screen flares to life to show a ratty, frayed couch sitting in what appears to be the corner of an abandoned warehouse. The video quality is terrible, clearly recorded on a camcorder. Specifically, a very old and barely functional camcorder. A man in a letterman jacket, faded denim jeans, and vintage sneakers sits in front of the camera. The rooster mask covering his face does nothing to hide his body language. “Foggy” Lee Gorn is clearly, obviously, and interminably bored.
::click:: “So, the company you work for has gone out of business!” ::hiss::
The audio has clearly been overdubbed, but Foggy’s movements and gestures match it perfectly. The voices sound like they’ve been crudely recorded from vintage instructional videos, answering machine messages, media clips, and even wrestling promos. The sounds of the tape recorder used to play the audio are completely unedited, clicks, whirs, and hisses fully audible.
::whir:: “On one hand, you no longer have a reliable source of income, any benefits you may have earned or accrued are likely void, and-” ::click:: “-gonna end up livin’ in a VAN DOWN BY THE RIVER!” ::whir:: “...or squatting in an abandoned building somewhere.” ::whir:: “But on the other hand…” ::hiss:: “...what else is new?”. ::click:: “Next Level Wrestling’s Last Stand!” ::hiss::
Gorn pauses, head turned slightly to the side, looking at nothing in particular.
::click:: “We had a good thing going here, you know?” ::whir:: “New challengers every week!” ::whir:: “...blood, sweat, and tears…” “glorious purpose!” ::hiss:: “And now, all of those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain.”
Foggy looks directly into the camera. Deep within the mask, a flash of a bloodshot blue eye is visible for just a moment. Then the light shifts and the eyeholes on the mask are once again empty voids.
::whir:: “But now we got one last shot, one last chance at the bigtime.” ::hiss:: “I am NOT throwing away my shot!” ::click:: “These violent delights have violent ends.” ::hiss:: “I’m not stupid.” “...I know I’m not gonna win.” ::click:: “I’m just gonna hurt ya really, REALLY badly.”
Static takes over the screen before normalizing into an animated scene. An anime schoolgirl stands in a dark hallway, covered in blood. Gore and limbs are scattered around her, a bloody knife in one hand and gore-caked scissors in the other. She’s somewhere between screaming and laughing as a set of yellow eyes open in the darkness behind her. She collapses to her knees, still laughing, but the sound is now closer to sobbing as black tendrils start to materialize out of the darkness. More yellow eyes begin to open in the shadows as her left pupil constricts to a pinpoint and starts to glow. The last thing we see are dozens of yellow eyes staring from the shadows as static once again overtakes the screen.
4-17-23
The VHS artifacts are even worse in this portion of the tape. The view swings and jitters a bit as the camera is adjusted. There’s a filthy, broken cork board haphazardly nailed to the wall. Across the board are faces, crudely clipped from magazines and posters. The other participants in the Scramble. Foggy paces back and forth in front of the board, gesturing towards each picture in turn using what appears to be a golf club with the head broken off.
::click:: “Cheez!” ::hiss:: “That kid on the TV just called me a dickhead again.” ::click:: “A grown man playing video games all day-” ::whir:: “too busy watching your Japanese animations-” ::hiss:: “Playing with dolls.” ::whir:: “You are one pathetic loser!” There is a pause as Foggy slaps his leg. ::click:: “That’s a joke, son!” “You’re just a freak… like me!” ::hiss:: “But that won’t save you.” “You don’t wanna play MY game.” :click:: “Just walk away.”
The sound of a chainsaw buzzing and someone screaming is barely audible over the music.
::whir:: “The Thespian!” Foggy crosses his legs at the ankle, holding his arms out before bowing with a flourish. ::hiss:: “An enigmatic, mute(?), masked wrestler…” “Is this a mirror match?” ::click:: “You were here first.” “You’re more accomplished than me.” ::hiss:: “I gotta give credit where it’s due.” ::whir:: “But you’re distracted.” ::hiss:: “You’ve got bigger fish to fry.” “And, I’m sorry, but I gotta ask-” ::whir:: “-where does he get those wonderful toys?”
::click:: “Daisuke Miyazaki!” “We’ve met before, but something tells me you’re going to remember me this time.” ::hiss:: “Don’t forget-” “You never beat me!” ::whir:: “You never even-” ::whir:: “-beat my tag partner!” ::click:: “You beat-” “-a couple hillbillies-” ::whir:: “After a flying pig…” ::hiss:: “MY OWN PARTNER” ::whir:: “Accidentally” “-put me through a table!”
Foggy stops in front of the picture of Al Jabroni. A crude crayon drawing of a t-rex skeleton with a question mark has been pinned nearby. Foggy looks back and forth between the picture and the camera. He raises his arm to expose a wristwatch and glances down at it. As he stands silently, a beautiful baritone voice sings an Al Jolson song somewhere in the distance. Gorn stands staring at the camera for 30 seconds, occasionally glancing at the watch face before shrugging and moving on.
::hiss:: “Ai Moe!” ::whir:: “You look… HORRIBLY familiar…” “No shade-” ::click:: “Do your thing.” “Live your best life!” ::whir:: “You can train-” ::hiss:: “You can prepare-” ::whir:: “You can do everything you want” ::click:: “But at the end of the night…” ::whir:: “...we all know you’re going out on your back.” There is a long, uncomfortable silence. ::click:: “...I have to return some video tapes.”
A rough voice with a thick New Jersey accent is briefly heard in the background ranting and raving about what season it is as Foggy stops and stares at something (or someone) off-camera. There is the sound of a brief scuffle from behind the camera, several grunts, and finally muffled shouts as someone is dragged from the room. Gorn holds the golf club by both ends while cracking his neck before continuing.
::click:: “...and of course, the main event!” “The one, the only, THE KING!” “El Ray!” ::click:: “They say you’re-” “-fucking ADORABLE!” ::whir:: “They say-” “-You come at the king, you best not miss.” ::click:: “They say-” ::whir:: “You’re the man to beat.” “Now, as for me?” ::hiss:: “There are plenty of things wrong with me…” ::whir:: “Chronic anxiety - antisocial personality disorder, sociopathy…”::click:: “Good soldier with a bad attitude.” ::hiss:: “But there’s something you should know about me-” “EL RAY!” ::click:: “For all of my many, MANY flaws” ::whir:: “...I never miss.”
Gorn advances across the room, grabbing the camera.
“Thank you for your patience, your time is VERY important to us…”
The screen goes black.
“...and, as always… wear something fancy.”