mosler
Special GUNS Acess
Mosler's not here man.
Posts: 2,339
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Post by mosler on Apr 24, 2023 15:06:33 GMT -5
{{FADE IN.}}
{{A blue butterfly makes its way across a scenic backdrop of pine, fir and cedar trees. Bees float across beds of wild flowers. The sun glistens off a bubbling brook, the rush of water creating a calming soundtrack for these picturesque woods. Some deer mosey out from the bushes for a cool drink. None of the gathering wildlife seems bothered by the multi-coloured mini-bus that rolls into the tranquil setting. Behind the wheel of this free love wagon is hippy guru, Johnny Natural. As the positive energy rocket comes to a stop, its unicorn decaled panel door slides open to reveal a barely clothed child.}}
{{The Nature Boy steps out of the broken down mechanical contraption, bare feet touching down on soil. The panel door slides shut behind him, abandoning him to this brave new world. The Nature Boy turns around to the long bearded hippy at the wheel in confusion.}}
Johnny Natural: Like Mother Earth will provide tiny man.
{{The Nature Boy looks confused and scared.}}
{{Flipping his cornrow hair off of his tie die Lennon style sun glasses, the elderly hippy grips his hemp based steering wheel. Running on soul power, the love wagon drives off, leaving the boy to fend for himself in the wild.}}
{{What is a Nature Boy to do?}}
{{SMASH CUT: Night. The animals are still wandering around without a care in the world, but there is now the skeleton of a child lying in the grass.}}
{{The camera pans up from the dead Nature Boy to the trees, and over them to the horizon where outline of a majestic city can be seen against the sunrise.}}
"F E A R
T H E
I N D U S T R I A L
M A N"
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mosler
Special GUNS Acess
Mosler's not here man.
Posts: 2,339
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Post by mosler on Apr 24, 2023 15:07:30 GMT -5
{{FADE IN.}}
{{An elderly person - Old Man Oldman - sits down in his rocking chair to enjoy an episode of "Big Bang Theory." The program involves simple comedy that doesn't require thought; it reminds him of the TV of his childhood. Andy Griffith was Kanye cool. His wife Mrs. Old Man Oldman comes in with a basket of hard candy - they have a lot of hard candy in their house because they never know when they are going to get company and it keeps longer than decent sweets.}}
{{Meanwhile in the TV, a kid in his birthday suit slaps another one in the chest.}}
{{Old Man Oldman sighs. The jokes are as poorly written as Big Bang, but Young Sheldon wasn't made with him in mind.}}
Nature Boy: WHoooooooooo!
{{Wait - this isn't Young Sheldon.}}
{{The other nature boy runs into the glass before face planting through the screen to their brown linoleum floor. A third nature boy jumps out from behind the couch to drop an elbow on prone child, and then starts to fargo strut away. More of these all-natural kids dart out of the children smoking Havana cigars. Who raised these children?}}
Nature Boys: WHoooooooooooo!
{{Out of the candy dish bursts hippy guru Johnny Natural, also one with nature. Fortunately Johnnys four-foot long beard manages to cover up his unmentionables. All nudity is framed out, but as more and more Nature Boys start showing up, the Oldmans stare on in horror as their home starts to look like a nudist colony from The Brood.}}
ANNOUNCER: Pests, Rodents, Children, is nature creeping into your homestead? Then look no further than Attila Balan! He is your one stop shop for all the problems of the natural world. So if Nature Boys have you down, call 1-800-555-IMAN for your industrial solution!
Nature Boys: WHoooooooooooo!
{{CUT AWAY: Mrs. Old Man Oldman on the rotary phone.}}
{{VERTICAL WIPE: Old Man Oldman draws open the curtains to see a large dark figure standing on his long.}}
Old Man Oldman: Oh Fiddlesticks my lawn!
{{Mrs. Old Man Oldman elbows her husband in the ribs; she doesn't approve that kind of blasphemy. It's also very rude to bemoan some crushed grass under the feet of their savior.}}
{{The dark shape of Attila Balan holds up a boom box like from "Say Anything." Out of the speakers pumps the heavy industrial rock of KMFDM's "Juke Joint Jezebel," which immediately draws the attention of the buff Nature Boys.}}
#Be mine, sister salvation# #Juke joint Jezebel is coming for my cremation# #Be mine, sister salvation# #Closer now, see the revelation#
ANNOUNCER: That's 1-800-555-IMAN!
{{EXTREME LONG SHOT: Hundreds of Nature Boys exit the Oldman bungalow, following Balan like the Pied Piper as he coaxes them out into traffic. Attila makes sure to stomp through the flowerbed on his way because fuck nature. From the porch, Johnny Nature tells the Oldmans about the virtues of Janie Joplin while thanking them for TV and stove he's taking as party gifts.}}
#I am the city that will lie# #You are the one that blame passed by# #This is the place where I will weep# #The loneliness of sweet conceit#
{{LONG SHOT: The pier. Boom box resting on an overturned trashcan, its grating melody continues to attract Nature Boys from out of the woodwork, almost faster than Attila Balan can shove the kids into burlap sacks and throw into the river. Almost.}}
ANNOUNCER: Don't delay! The Industrial Man is the most effective and sure way to eliminate those unwanted natural elements!
{{Splash!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!}}
{ { F E A R
T H E
I N D U S T R I A L
M A N } }
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mosler
Special GUNS Acess
Mosler's not here man.
Posts: 2,339
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Post by mosler on Apr 24, 2023 15:08:50 GMT -5
{{FADE IN.}}
{{A former Agent Orange factory in an eastern European facility has been converted into a car plant, where men quickly assemble AMC Pacers. Pacers apparently still legally own the roads in whatever sketchy country this was shot inside. Sparks fly as men use welding torches on some of the ugliest vehicles ever to test safety limits. Sweat drips off brows. You can almost smell the industry. Despite these lacklustre surroundings, half of the plant is automated; robotic arms compacting, screwing, and stamping pieces into each other.}}
{{Would A.I. enjoy LEGO?}}
{{There is no Alexa in this factory to answer.}}
{{Closer to the testing facility, AMC Pacers ram into walls, sending crash test dummies flying through windows. This one looks safe enough for someone who can only afford a Pacer.}}
{{The camera pans along with a severed dummy head before stopping on a strict looking safety inspector. The white lab coat, yellow hardhat, and safety goggles might fool an international war crimes tribunal; but it is hard to mistake the plastic looking features of former Serbian secret police officer and wrestling manager, Zoran Sainovic.}}
{{The AMC Pacer that Sainovic is inspecting has two sad looking clowns in the passenger seat. They are quickly joined by 2 rodeo clowns decked out in barrels. The notoriously cramped Pacer has no problem getting the barrel-laden clowns in. This is promising.}}
{{8 more clowns follow.}}
{{Another ten after that start to climb into the trunk; Sainovic raises his pen; pointing at a mime whose snuck into a group of hobo clowns. Now forced to use the passenger door, another 7 manage to squeeze in. The rest of the crew start to look anxious, they have never put that many clowns in a Pacer before...}}
Zoran Sainovic: Zat von.
{{Pointing at a dwarf clown in a ballerina ensemble, the crew roll down the driver side window just enough for this last clown to enter. That has to be a Guinness world record. It will be a great sense of pride for the--------
THE PACER EXPLODES!!!}}
{{Flaming long red shoes, fake noses, and substandard wigs are strewn everywhere in the blast.}}
"F E A R
T H E
I N D U S T R I A L
M A N"
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mosler
Special GUNS Acess
Mosler's not here man.
Posts: 2,339
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Post by mosler on Apr 24, 2023 15:12:34 GMT -5
{{Having collected his pay cheque for the night, Buster Friendly takes a look at the figure, and thinks hard about going back to children's parties. They wouldnt have him. With a sigh he walks down the backstage hallway, stopping as he sees a private dressing room labeled "Luchian Inc." He doesn't recognize that name. All the rest of the boys were in the same locker room. Curiosity getting the better of him or maybe just the booze, Buster opens the door.}}
AB: Come in my friend!
{{The massive dressing room has had two long rolling assembly lines set up. On the farthest one, "The Industrial Man" Attila Balan lies with his back against the metal rolling pins. Two dozen women wearing clinical white outfits physically pass Balan from hand to hand, dragging him across the rolling pins. He sort of looks like a car being put together. An electronic line or simple massage would make way more sense for the cramped surroundings, but where would be the fun in that.}}
AB: Come in out of the hall, thank you for that fantastic match! It was a charming way to be introduced to American wrestling, Toni get Buster's coat. Please join me!
{{Before Buster can object or even wonder what this bizarre post match workout entails, one of the women has stripped off his jacket; and another two have thrown him down onto the rolling assembly line next to Balan.}}
"L U C H I A N ~ INC.
P R E S E N T S
T H E
A S S E M B L Y
L I N E"
{{Buster stares at the ceiling. Balan stares up as well, never looking at his interview guest.}}
AB: It will do absolute wonders for your back!
BF: This is your locker room?
AB: Don't sound too jealous, Buster. My company pays for it. Of course, I noticed how much better the hot dogs tasted here than any other area I've been in the states. Some quick recon indicated it was a result of some black mold in this arena. So Luchian has picked up the contract to clean up the mold, we don't want it negatively affect the health of the good people of the Washington area. We are also taking the mold to our subsidiaries in the fine food industry to get that amazing taste. It should push our profit margin up a high five figures. It's not much, but it's a nice afternoon. So you see, COMMERCE WILL PROVIDE my friend!
{{Buster clenches his pay cheque a little tighter.}}
AB: Look how tense you are - don't worry, I promise this will have you limber in no time. I'm glad to see it was a hard fought victory. You deserved it. No one fought for that winner's purse more.
{{Thinking about how much more money Balan has made in the last hour than Friendly did winning their match? Buster needs a drink. Having reached the end of the assembly line, the women start to pass the two men back the other way.}}
AB: So WELCOME to The Assembly Line Buster - where we look into the lives of SWAT wrestlers, and see what makes them tick.
BF: This is an interview?
AB: So clowns. What clown would you consider your biggest influence?
BF: I know I have a certain reputation, being the Clown Prince of Chaos. I embrace anarchy and heartbreak. People are expecting me to say The Joker, but that isn't true. I didn't start out this way. Nobody is born as the shattered Avatar of Disaster. Somebody has to do the shattering. Before I became the broken wreck I am now....I wanted to be a real clown. One that brought joy, not sadness and fear. My family moved around a lot when I was a kid. We lived in Kansas for a while, and there is a legendary clown there named Whizzo. Everybody in that part of the country knew Whizzo. He was a local legend. All the kids loved him. All of our parents gad grown up watching him. I wanted to be him so bad.
AB: I'd wagger you have some amazing stories from working birthday parties, any particularly funny or sad anecdotes from entertaining youths?
BF: I always had the best intentions when I was working as an actual clown. I would show up ready to entertain the kids. I would think back to my own childhood and try to remember the joy Whizzo had brought me. If I could just make one kid as happy as he had made me, then everything would be ok. I thought their joy would dampen my pain, but I was wrong. I would see something that would trigger me. A mother would put down her child verbally. Or maybe I would see a bruise on a kid and know he had been beaten. Or a well meaning dad would offer me a drink, and I would lie to myself and say I would only have the one. Whatever it was, my scars would be torn apart, the wounds reopened, and the worst parts of me would stand naked for the world to see. Sometimes literally. And during that time, Buster Friendly went away. Everything good about me was stripped away. All that was left was the broken dreams, the battered body, the addiction, the pain, the loss, the empty black soul. Buster Friendly has left the building. Beelzebozo was all that was left.
AB: Do you have any advice for clowns looking to transition into the wrestling industry, or wrestlers looking to work children's birthday parties?
BF: yeah....don't.
AB: Reverse!
{{The women start running them across again. Every time the back of Buster's head bumps against a roller a vein on his head looks closer to bursting.}}
AB: Biggest regret?
BF: I have one. The same one every night. When I take my last drink of the day, and I sit on the floor with tears running down my cheeks and the gun in my mouth, I am too scared to pull the trigger. I wish I was brave enough to end the pain.
AB: Interesting. I owe you an apology Buster. When first I heard I was wrestling a clown, I thought I was still wrestling in the old country. My personal bias - and I feel like a real creep for thinking this - was that a clown has no place in modern wrestling and it only works to attract a younger audience. Even saying it I feel dumb. What you do is brilliant!
BF: I am glad my pain amuses you. At least somebody has finally been brought some joy by my existance.
AB: As a metaliic businessman - the prospect of this undeveloped gimmick intrigues me. Too many clowns in wrestling? There are not enough clowns! Every federation should have a clown.
{{Balan finally sits up from his insane massage device.}}
AB: Buster - I would like to make you the best clown wrestler you could be. Funnier. Darker. More ironic. This is not to stifle your personal demons or wrestling persona. I want to optimize you. Make the most Buster Friendly out of Buster Friendly. With a dozen little changes, you could hit new highs. I see something special in you Buster, and with my help that could be greatness.
BF: Balan, I wish I knew you when I was younger. When there was still some hope living inside of me. It's too late for me. I appreciate your offer. I really do. But there is no saving me. So here is my counter offer....
{{Beelzebozo gets off of the ridiculous massage aparatus and makes a sweeping gesture to his surroundings.}}
BF: You really do have it all. You are a man who has it all figured out, this thing called Life. I have something to tell you, and I hope you don't take this the wrong way, because I mean it as a compliment. I like you, I-Man. I really do. You reached out to me in a way nobody else ever has. You want to take the fractured remains of my wasted life, sweep them up, and fuse them into something greater. You want to take chaos and bend it under your will, and find order. But I think the opposite is going to happen. I am going to take this amazing, well-oiled Industrial Machine you have created, and I am going to burn it down.
{{The twenty masseuses casually step away from their positions on the line, taking a protective stance around their employer like they might know karate. And this might be a James Bond film.}}
BF: I know that sounds like a threat, but it really isn't. Man to man. Maybe even friend to friend. I am going to take this world you have worked so hard to construct, and I am going to destroy it.
AB: Heh.
{{Waving off his harem of highly trained killers who could give anyone from AMAZONS a run for their money, Balan rises.}}
AB: That's the spirit Buster! One step closer to being the best Beelzebozo you can be! Now hopefully it won't strain our relationship, and I apologize in advance, but I'll be bringing up the offer again. What kind of metallic businessman would I be, if I gave up after the first try? We can revisit this after a scuffle or two. In the mean time, please enjoy this wine with my compliments.
{{The blonde masseuse identified as Toni, hands Buster a bottle of Domaine de la Romanee-Conti 1990.}}
ANNOUNCER: Guests of The Assembly Line enjoy bottles of Domaine de la Romanee-Conti 1990. That's Romanee-Conti - its good for what ails you!
{{Looking into the Sotheby worthy vintage, Buster Friendly seems ready to cry. Balan puts a friendly hand on his shoulder before showing him the door.}}
AB: Thanks again for appearing on this episode of the Assembly Line; I'm expecting big things.
ANNOUNCER: The Assembly Line has been brought to you by Luchian Inc. Luchian, the company that cares.
"F E A R
T H E
I N D U S T R I A L
M A N"
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mosler
Special GUNS Acess
Mosler's not here man.
Posts: 2,339
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Post by mosler on Apr 24, 2023 15:18:11 GMT -5
{{Black and White photography.}}
{{Thunder.}}
{{Cold granite walls under sharp lights frame a large laboratory.}}
{{A drooling hunchback starts to pull a crank, opening a large ceiling panel. Rain beats down through the new portal, as a massive storm rages outside. Violent lightning cuts through the clouds before another boom of thunder.}}
{{An odd apparatus of large metallic spheres connected by rods that look like a futuristic weather vane, starts to ascend towards the ceiling gap as the drooling hunchback yanks another rope.}}
{{Sliding on rubber gloves, a scientist smiles up at the rain before turning his attention to a table in the centre of the laboratory. On the table rests a massive form covered by a white sheet. A complicated mess of wires travel from the various monitors and complex equipment into the table, disappearing under the sheet as well.}}
{{The radiant bolts of electricity start running up a large conductor in the corner as the scientist starts throwing switches.}}
{{Light bulbs indicating the flow of the charge start to glow, throbbing with a blinding lustre.}}
{{The scientist shoves the hunchback away from one of the conductors, not as concerned with his assistant's miserable existence as much the frying process draining the energy. The two men start pulling back one sheet to reveal another wrapped around a humanoid shape.}}
{{Cutting through more cloth we find a large other worldly body lying on the table covered in large metal restraints.}}
{{Yet another switch sends the body up to the heavens.}}
{{The lights in the room go out with a burst of sparks as the first lightning bolt hits the creature. More lightning strikes as the thunder becomes continuous and deafening.}}
{{When the celestial wrath subsides, lights return to the laboratory. The hunchback starts to pull on various cranks, with our Scientist pulling levers to bring the body back down.}}
{{When the body returns to the floor the scientist leers in for a closer look.}}
{{The hand starts to move.}}
Colin Clive: It's ALIVE!
{{As the scientist starts to spaz out, the creature removes the bolts from his neck and starts to chew on them.}}
{{The scientist continues his euphoria over this new life.}}
{{Chewing on lug bolts like they were candy, ATTILA BALAN strikes a pose to show off his chiselled physique.}}
{{Ripped muscles so perfect as to be against the laws of man. Balan is not a fan of nature. Stark shadows matching the lighting of the Universal classic manage to offer our posing specimen some dignity. You get the feeling that this mechanical marvel is really getting into the Helloween Cup spirit.}}
"F E A R
T H E
I N D U S T R I A L
M A N"
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mosler
Special GUNS Acess
Mosler's not here man.
Posts: 2,339
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Post by mosler on Apr 24, 2023 15:21:31 GMT -5
{{The Harvest.}}
{{Red and orange leaves in their twilight days are torn from branches by violent gusts of wind, tossed around the sky in a more dizzying display than Aztec Dracula's humble origins, before crashing to the earth like vampire's chances of taking the Helloween Cup, with a whimper. A cold autumn night mourns this fragile cycle of nature. Someone had to.}}
{{Stomping down the disgusting dried tree droppings are children, running along the handsomely paved streets of a suburban neighbourhood, begging for candy from door to door. Halloween. The little ones are dressed in a wide array of costumes, a few more wrestlers appearing than Disney princesses which is always heart warming for the boys. Rather than the more popular gimmicks like Daniel Collins and Alex Turner, these holiday revellers are celebrating the personas of less represented workers.}}
#DINGDONG#
{{Old man Oldman loves this time of year, just smell that crisp fall air! At the sound of the door bell he races for his bowl of treats, wondering what new creature will greet him. The last time Oldman dressed up for Halloween he went as Fred Astaire. Opening the door, Oldman wonders if this new group will have any hoofers in it?}}
Nature Boys: Trick or treat Woooooooooo!!!
{{The elderly man triple takes at the sight of a dozen nature boys. The youths are styling and profiling.}}
Old Man Oldman: What are you supposed to be?
Nature Boys: Give us some candy or we'll hit you with women's shoes WoooooooooooOoooo!
{{Walking past the doorway to sneak a peak at the recentest army of scamps, Mrs. Old Man Oldman can't help but scream in terror. She has bad memories of nature boys. Wanting to care for his startled wife, Oldman reaches into his bowl to start dishing out the treats. Fuji apples. The kids look less than impressed as they strut away to the next domicile.}}
"Hang on there!"
{{From out of nowhere steps Attila Balan dressed as Flint to hammer home the G.I. Joe after school special feel. Balan makes sure to walk through a prize winning tulip bed. The kids approach the mechanical businessman philanthropist who is a friend to all men but hates nature. Even though the kids don't know any better, Balan has a hard time complimenting them on their costumes.}}
AB: Great job, it looks like you're taking in quite the mountain of sweets. Can I see that?
Nature Boys: Sure WooooOoOOoOooo!
{{Reaching into one of the bags, Balan pulls out a green apple. Before the Nature Boys can complain, Balan starts to chew it. Taking the Apple down to its core with the precision of an apple chewing machine, Balan makes short work of it. Throwing the core into the ruined tulip bed, because nature, Balan then reaches into his mouth.}}
AB: Just as I thought.
{{Balan pulls a razor blade out of his mouth. The horrified Nature Boys drop their sacks of candy.}}
AB: I am fortunate enough to have a metal palette - but this could have done some real damage to you young flesh and blood humanoids.
{{Balan nods to a cruiser behind him. That's the signal. Armed police officers approach the house, confronting Old Man Oldman as he opens the door hoping for a Gene Kelly.}}
AB: You see kids while it's nice for people to participate in the tradition of giving out treats, you really shouldn't accept home made goods. I get it. Times are hard, maybe they can't afford to give a kitkat to every goblin that shows up on their doorstep. Maybe they think that slaving over a stove creating treats is the way to go. They might consider apples a healthy alternative to cavities. Whatever their motivations are - don't encourage them. There are sick people out there - you never know what date square has poison in it or candy Apple has shrapnel. Worse still it's against commerce. As your racing off to the emergency room think of the poor people at Nestle and Cadbury that count on this time of year for their forth quarter profits. If it doesn't have a barcode throw it out, because those healthy home made goodies might as well be the devil candy corn.
Old Man OldMan: I didn't do anything?
{{The elderly man bumps his head on the door on his way to being thrown in the back of a squad car.}}
AB: Now discard those non-commercially friendly goods and I'll give you these official I-Man Halloween costumes brought to you by the fine folks at Luchian Inc.
Nature Boys:Thanks Mister Balan WoooooOoooo!
AB: Knowing is half the battle.
Nature Boys: Go WoooooOooOOoooo Joe!
{{All the neighbours stare in horror as the cruiser speeds off. Mrs. Old Man Oldman collapses on the front lawn from crippling shock. The Nature Boys - now dressed as their hero Attila Balan walk like robots on their way to the next house. It's going to be a good season of the witch.}}
{{Walking up to the deserted house is a young girl dressed as Ginger Rogers, who admires the mountain of apples strewn on the pavement.}}
"F E A R
T H E
I N D U S T R I A L
M A N
T H I S
H E L L O W E E N
C U P"
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mosler
Special GUNS Acess
Mosler's not here man.
Posts: 2,339
|
Post by mosler on Apr 24, 2023 15:24:11 GMT -5
{{In his newest disguise to avoid an international war crimes tribunal, former Serbian secret police officer turned wrestling manager with a mad scientist gimmick, Zoran Sainovic, wears blue jean overalls and a straw hat. He is a farmer.}}
{{What first appears to be an angry mob outside his humble farm turns out to be a captivated crowd. Standing next to Farmer Sainovic is reporter Kimberly Coates with DCPB.}}
KC: Thanks Tom! I'm here with local dare county farmer Bob Green whose prize pig Wilbur is turning a lot of heads with its unique ability to predict sporting events with one hundred percent accuracy! Farmer Green, I know a lot of bookies who would like to see you run out of town.
ZS <thick Serbian accent>: It vould not be ze first time. <remember to blend> Y'all.
KC: Can Wilbur tell us the final score of tonights game between the Hornets and the Pistons? My husband just tried to open his own UroClub store and I'm up to my eyeballs in debt and uroclubs.
{{Sainovic laughs recalling how many clowns died testing the original UroClub models.}}
ZS: You do not have to be a Nostradamic swine to know this is the Hornets year. Ne. Let us see if Vilbur vas worth the heavy funding that Luchian Inc. put into my humble farm vith a real challenge. The Syndicate Wrestling And Tradition Atlantic Coast edition of the Helloveen Cup!
{{The crowd gasps as Sainovic walks over to the pig pen, pulling back a curtain from a large board displaying all the participants names.}}
KC: Farmer Green, is it common for pigs to have psychic abiliites?
ZS: I am still collecting the data, but no. <blend> Dang.
{{An extremely cute piglet with a red ribbon wrapped around its neck to further melt the audiences hearts, starts to approach the sign reading bracket 4.}}
{{Charging over on its tiny hoofs, it runs headfirst into Buster Friendly.}}
ZS: Ze clown.
KC: Everyone knows that Beelzebozo is taking the forth round, I thought you said you were going to make it hard on Wilbur.
{{In a former incarnation, Sainovic would have this woman buried in a mass grave. The humble farmer chews on piece of straw, removing the bracket 4 card to present the third.}}
ZS: Ve see in the third round that Vilbur is having a hard time choosing between the sadistic insanity of Damian Payne and ze regular sadism of listening to Tong Fairtex speak. Whoever he chooses vill vin, but it is difficult for svinja when he identifies so strongly with both.
{{The pig runs headfirst into "Knife Edge" Takeda Yokosuda.}}
ZS: The Japanese. Vilbur swerved us with the other losers. He made me think Fairtex was going to win. What a kopile.
KC: Can Wilbur bend spoons with his mind?
ZS: All of ze livestock can. Vilbur's going for the second bracket. I see the SWAT president put himself in with Marcus Vhite and a Fairtex. Talk about your bracket of death.
{{The rednecks watching laugh. They might only have 12 IQ points to rub together, but even they can see that Phoenix gave himself a pass. Alex-Conners and Cade Corso might stand a chance. The adorable piglet doesn't even give White or Phoenix a second look in charging into Phantom Fairtex.}}
ZS: Dang. Phantom Fairtex in ze second. Zis only leaves the obvious first round wictory for...
{{Wilbur bumps into Daniel Collins.}}
KC: Daniel Collins!
ZS: What? Vilbur hasn't started yet.
{{Sainovic uses his leg to push Wilbur to the side, where it bumps into...}}
KC: Timeless Alex Turner! So what is Wilbur's second round predictions?
ZS: He got confused.
KC: So he doesn't know who will win the second round?
ZS: No. You asked about the second round and he got his psychic vires crossed about Alex Turner. Alex Turner isn't vinning. Do it again.
{{Wilbur pokes his nose into Aztec Dracula.}}
KC: You heard it here first, Aztec Drac*
ZS: NO! Do over. It sometimes takes him a few tries to get it right.
KC: I thought you said that Wilbur was 100% accurate?
{{Reaching down Sainovic tries to force Wilbur into Attila Balan's name, only for his hand to slip on mud, and the cute piglet to bump into...}}
KC: BRIAN BREWSTER!
ZS: ...
{{SMASH CUT: Grease glistens off bacon as it sizzles in a pan.}}
KC: Back to you Tom! From Brian Green's farm off of highway 78, this is the best bacon I've ever tasted.
{{A despondent Zoran Sainovic and Kimberly Coates enjoy bacon as some text at the bottom of the screen reminds you that:
Luchian Inc. is a proud sponsor of Dare County Public Broadcasting
"F E A R
T H E
I N D U S T R I A L
M A N ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !"
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mosler
Special GUNS Acess
Mosler's not here man.
Posts: 2,339
|
Post by mosler on Apr 24, 2023 15:25:18 GMT -5
#BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
{{In his penthouse office on the fortieth floor of Luchian Tower, Attila Balan lies facedown in a massage chair. The loud buzzing sound comes from the industrial strength power sanders that his valets Toni and Joanie are using on his back. Rather than strip off mounds of flesh like you'd expect it actually buffs his spectacularly chiselled physique to a golden hue. Not acknowledging the excruciating pain these sanders would cause any living human, Balan seems incredibly relaxed from the process. Unfortunately there is no time for leisure when you are attempting to function at 120%, so Balan continues to run diagnostics at the same time as he dictates correspondence to his secretary.}}
AB: Make a note Diane, for the pep talk make sure that a sizable donation is made out to the charity of his choice.
Diane: The pep talk was completed yesterday.
AB: I appreciate the efficiency. Double the amount we discussed, as we may need his assistance again in the near future. Now take a letter for mister friendly.
Dear Buster, It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance last month, thank you again for being a guest on my program. It was extremely well received and half the families at our corporate retreat were requesting your contact information for their children's parties. Incidentally, our marketing team was just wondering if you had given any further thought to my proposal, involving maximized potential and franchising opportunities. We have recently purchased into a number of IPs in India that we feel could benefit from having your unique vision. There is no hurry or pressure my friend, but I had to ask, as you know how the guys over in marketing can get. Not that you need it, but everyone here at the Luchian Family is rooting for you in your upcoming encounter against the parties of Bouncer, Aloni, and Bishop; believing you to be the clear victor in the upcoming Helloween Cup. I will look forwards to seeing you in Cleveland. With little doubt of your upcoming victory, please find attached two bottles of Domaine de la Romanee-Conti 1990, for the purposes of celebration, given in the spirit of friendship and admiration. Warmest regards, Attila Balan... get all that Diane?
Diane: It's hard to hear over the buzzing of the sanders.
AB: Well run what you got through that correspondence algorithm we added to the portfolio last month and have Cleverbot fill in the blanks. Edit for any children's party comments than could be mistaken for condescending, and make sure to get Buster the Romanee-Contis at the very least, I know he'll enjoy those.
Diane: On it, Mr. Balan. We have a SWAT camera crew waiting in the lobby to get your thoughts on your upcoming appearance.
AB: Send them in. Running all over the place with the multitude of interviews they've no doubt had to record lately, its cruel to keep them waiting.
Diane: And lastly Conal Cochran has been trying to contact you.
AB: The father of modern robotics! What does Mr. Cochran want?
Diane: His silver shamrock company is currently producing a line of rubber Halloween masks designed to play tricks on the children who wear them. They currently have three designs for the masks, but are having a hard time getting department stores to carry the line.
AB: ...That's a brilliant idea! Leave it to Mr. Cochran to come up with such daring innovation! Did you know most of my schematics are based on his original android designs? If Cochran feels this strongly about the silver shamrock line, I know it's a surefire winner. Piggyback them on the orders of Industrial Man costumes going to Walmart and Costco, have legal draw up the papers this afternoon and send Cochran a note thanking him for letting us be part of this daring new enterprise.
{{The SWAT camera crew arrives just as Toni starts shaving Balan with a circular saw.}}
AB: Come on in guys! Thanks for making the time to hear from me. With the dozens of wrestlers appearing at the next event, I can only imagine how busy you guys have been.
{{Sitting upright, I-man gestures for Toni to stop, less the shrill cutting sound of the saw forces them to reshoot the interview.}}
AB: The Helloween Cup, my understanding is that it was an important fixture of the holiday season, one of the premier events over at Hardkore world. I had Joanie go out and buy a number of "best of Hardkore America" blurays, and after reading the report she prepared for me after she watched them, I can tell just how much this means to the fans of that former promotion, and how honored I should be to be a part of it.
{{Coming over with a red-hot iron, Toni begins to give Balan a facial. The sizzling sound of searing flesh isn't half as distracting as the circular saw so the mechanical businessman is able to continue his thoughts.}}
AB: I am hoping to get through the first round to experience some of the other great competition that SWAT has to offer. Marcus White, Cade Corso, Tong Fairtex, Calum Morgan, and my dear friend Buster Friendly to name a few. Of course it was just last month that I lost one of these multiman brawls, so no matter how prepared you are, anything can happen. Fingers crossed my luck changes this time around though.
My understanding is the winner of the Helloween Cup gets a title shot of his choice, but better than a belt, I get to test my processing power against the current International champion himself, Daniel Collins. Since coming to SWAT I have enjoyed a number of conversations with the champ's father. Fantastic wrestler, I can honestly say that Phoenix was one of my favorites growing up. I appreciate that the nature of this business means they may have a strained relationship, and that I shouldn't judge Collins based on the abilities of his legendary kin. I am extremely excited about the prospect of trading blows with the Dark Phoenix.
Ive only actually seen one of Collins matches and it was a barnburner against Timeless Alex Turner. Excuse me. Diane - make a note, our insurance wing should offering policies on barn fires occurring at sporting events.
Diane: I'm requisitioning the contracts as you speak.
AB: Fantastic. I was just in awe of the talents of Collins and Turner; those two are the measure of champions for sure. I am still trying to wrap my cerebral unit around Alex Turner's timeless moniker. Speaking as a wonderful mechanical man, time has little meaning to me. If Turner is suggesting that people will sing stories of his glory long after he has ceased function, I can whole-heartedly agree. Even if it's just a few weeks from now, people will remember Alex long after he's dead. Weeks even. Phenomenal talent.
I know even less about Brian Brewster. Given the supreme honor that the Helloween Cup represents, I can only guess that Mister Brewster is one of the hundred ringers that sought out SWAT looking for a battle for the ages. I commend your fighting spirit, Mister Brewster, and look forwards to your attempts at testing my endurance while showing your riveting offence to this new stage. Even though I haven't been here that long myself, allow me to greet you with a warm welcome, you intrepid journeyman!
That last character making up our barbwired blood letting bought is a man who thrives on the flowing plasma, Aztec Dracula. We are not so different Aztec Dracula. A combination of two seemingly opposite concepts rolling into the perfect package. You take a historic monster and place him a hundred years later into the trappings of the new world. Delightful. I am blue chipper robot philanthropist who is a friend to all men, but hates nature. I would love to compare psychiatric bills with you Dracula. It could make for an interesting growing experience. Representing a smaller region from the governing bodies' past, I realize there is a lot of pressure on you to perform well, and do right by the rest of your roster. I appreciate the awkward position you've been put in, and would normally be cheering on your victory. Unfortunately I have a friend that is counting on me to make it past the first round, so if it means breaking out the garlic, fortunately Luchian Inc. owns several factories that grow the substance.
It looks like a truly challenging bracket, gentlemen.
Even though I am hoping to further my SWAT experience with second round encounters against White, Fairfax and Corso; I can't think of a better group of wrestlers than yourselves to start my evening off with. No matter who comes out on top, I wish you all the best in your run towards the cup.
{{Balan nods both to the wrestlers that he's addressing as well as the camera operator to signal he's done.}}
Diane: Cochran sent over the trigger for the trick masks.
AB: We were just wrapping up here, please play it...
{{Over the intercom...}}
#TEN MORE DAYS TILL HALLOWEEN# #HALLOWEEN, HALLOWEEN# #TEN MORE DAYS TILL HALLOWEEEEEEEN#
#SILVER SHAMROCK!#
AB: That Cochran is a genius! This is going to be the highest functioning Halloween ever!
{{Toni drags a jaws of life across the hardwood floor, looking to work over Balan's calve muscles with the painful device.}}
"F E A R
T H E
I N D U S T R I A L
M A N"
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mosler
Special GUNS Acess
Mosler's not here man.
Posts: 2,339
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Post by mosler on Apr 24, 2023 15:27:07 GMT -5
{{Orange.}}
{{Extreme close-ups pan along the organic surface, noticing slight bumps in its texture to make the sea of orange appear to be a vegetable. Slowly zooming out with each pass, the camera finally comes to rest on a carving of Timeless Alex Turner holding Roxy up on his shoulder in triumphant victory. For an image hacked into a vegetable, it's an amazing likeness.}}
{....then a knife comes stabbing into Turner's midsection. God only knows how long he'll be able to hold Roxy up in the air with all those pumpkin seeds spilling out of his stomach.}}
{{Next to the eviscerated Turner is a carving of Daniel Collins putting his dad Phoenix in a headlock. The bonding experience doesn't seem to be going well, with Phoenix's neck snapped. A craven image of Aztec Dracula is tearing out Daniels throat, while Phantom Fairtex drives a wooden stake through the Count's heart.}}
{{The knife swings in again perfectly cutting Takeda Yokosuda's sharp features before gouging out the eyes. Everett Aloni, Alex-Conners and Brian Brewster have been set on fire; running around in flames. Skin blistering off from the intense heat. None of the other carvings have been given a reason to piss out the flames.}}
{{Flicks of the precise knife work carve lines indicating that Cade Corsco has wet his pants, suffocating to death as he swings from a tree.}}
{{What remains of the Marcus White image is sticking half out a puddle of acid. You can tell it's Marcus because there is a comic book league word bubble featuring incomprehensible characters "#~^*~¥!!"}}
{{The blade takes another pass quickly shaving in Damian Payne using Calum Morgan's lower intestines to strangle Tong Fairfax, only to choke himself on the substances dropping out of the organ.}}
{{Stomping the surviving images to death while force feeding Bishop's brains to Hell's Bouncer is Beelzebozo.}}
{{The camera pulls out to find all these horrible images carved into a pumpkin. The jack ' o ' lantern features a giant tableau of the Helloween Cup; the demonic clown Beelzebozo standing on the corpses of all the other participants. Almost all of them. One is missing.}}
{{Putting the knife down, Attila Balan lights a lavender candle that one of his companies produces and your girlfriend will love. Placing the candle in the pumpkin, Balan turns off the lights.}}
{{More than a prophetic orgy of violence, each one of the maimed wrestlers makes up teeth, hair, a nose. Even the focal point of Buster Friendly represents one of the eyes. The face of the pumpkin is that of the Industrial Man, and the horror show within the machinations he has planned.}}
{{Great carving skills Attila
{{Orange.}}
"F E A R
T H E
I N D U S T R I A L
M A N
T H I S
H E L L O W E E N
C U P"
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mosler
Special GUNS Acess
Mosler's not here man.
Posts: 2,339
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Post by mosler on Apr 24, 2023 15:30:01 GMT -5
"...what on earth is left in the tank of Attila Balan?"
{{A sprawling metropolis has several moons in its purple skyline. The camera pans down a building just as a golden robot somersaults onto a vertical plane, narrowly avoiding some loose electrical cables. Diving further into the mechanical city, the golden humanoid drops past some rotating drills, landing on a pipe. Looking up the golden boy has two circular discs spin out of the sides of his head, listening for trouble. Below him is a pit of massive circular saws. Twisting around them, the golden humanoid continues to drop, grabbing a small pipe before reaching another set of rotating blades. Pulling a leg over the bar, the creature leans back just in time to avoid one of the sharp objects, only to turn into another that catches him in the arm.}}
{{Blinding flash.}}
{{Standing on the ground, the golden robot pulls his severed arm towards glowing purple hole in his shoulder. Locking the arm back into place, the robot stands in front of a backdrop of his alien skyline.}}
ASTAR: My name is Astar, a robot. I can put my arm back on, you can't - so play safe!
"F E A R
T H E
I N D U S T R I A L
M A N
T H I S
H E L L O W E E N
C U P ! ! ! "
{{After the match, it looks more like fans should fear FOR the Industrial Man.}}
{{In the backstage area, Robocop doesn't look much better than he did at the end of Robocop 2. It is a testament to Turner, Collins, and Dracula that they managed to do as much damage as Kain. Balan staggers into walls, his plastic costume leaking motor oil onto the floor; leaving a trail that looks like the aftermath of a mass murder.}}
{{Up the hall at the Luchian Inc. dressing room, valets Toni and Bobbi look concerned. The chairman certainly did a number on himself to impress. They want to race to Balan's aid and help him the last of the way, but know that his pride won't allow it. Even as he almost slips in his own blood, Attila Balan needs to do this by himself.}}
Toni: Mr. Bal*
{{He raises a broken robotic arm up to calm her.}}
Bobbi: The animals.
{{Dragging his leg the last bit of the way, Attila Balan finally staggers into the door. Placing a black rubber hand up against the Luchian star - and leaving an impressive bloody imprint.}}
Bobbi: Are you going to be alright to continue sir?
{{Attila Balan shoots his personal assistant a knowing smile, even as he uses a lug wrench to remove his Robocop visor.}}
AB: Patience Bobbi, they're only human.
{{Removing his mask, Balan enters the Luchian Inc. dressing room, the camera gets a quick glimpse inside at a full team of medical personal gearing up to get Balan back to 100% like an F1 pit crew. As the team races into action the door swings shut.}}
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mosler
Special GUNS Acess
Mosler's not here man.
Posts: 2,339
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Post by mosler on Apr 24, 2023 15:32:11 GMT -5
{{Inside the dressing room of Luchian Inc. a complicated mess of wires, tubes, and pipes converge into a large titanium pod. Zoran Sainovic has cast off his farming aspirations, once again taking the part of mad scientist as he studies a number of beeping scanners, expensive apparatus, complicated instruments, and archaic terminals with his crack team of researchers. Even with the chairman healing, work is never done for the crew at Luchian, with Toni and Bobbi monitoring the stock market and answering a series of calls from a makeshift office in the corner of the room. The large pod looks like a sensory deprivation chamber, except for a window, out of which Attila Balan watches a 100" 4K television with a live feed of SWAT TV. As his second tag opponent is announced, the mechanical businessman decides his circuits are once again functional.}}
AB: I have seen enough.
{{There is a loud buzzing sound as the chamber opens. Black oils, pink sludge and some blue liquids slop against the concrete floor, escaping out of the health restoration device. Few of Attila Balan's scars are visible. Realizing there is a camera in the room, Zoran is quick to throws a towel around the buffed out Balan. Despite his magnificent frame, Attila Balan would not want to be seen in any state that promotes the natural world.}}
AB: There you have it - in the next round I will be taking on a personal hero of mine in the legendary Phoenix, and a man who embodies everything that yakuza stereotype, Knife Edge Takedo Yokosuda. Gentlemen, I cannot begin to tell you how much I am looking forwards to our upcoming clash. Just looking at you two, there is no question in my data processing unit that we'll be able to put on a truly optimal blood bath that will do right by the fans, SWAT, and the random access memory of the Helloween Cup.
{{Toni holds up some ticker tape involving some overseas investments, the robotic businessman who is a friend to all men but hates nature nods his head in reassurance.}}
AB: Perfect. Great job Toni. All that remains Syndicate Wrestling is knowing whom my partner will be within this perfect storm of violence?
Bishop has been making a lot of waves since arriving, and seems to be named after the android from Aliens, which speaks to me.
Ever since my days wrestling under a mask as Filthy Rich Oil Tycoon, I have had a soft spot for gimmicks that are also occupations. So I can see why everyone in SWAT is so high on Hell's Bouncer. Hell's Bouncer is a close personal friend with Lucifer. When I found out he had sewn up that particular IP, I had to let go of half my marketing department. They all had wonderful severance packages, and completely understood my position. Great people. I am not entirely sure why Hell would require a bouncer. It might just be my mechanical mind at work, but I thought Hell was an undesirable place? The type of area that people might want to escape, but not break into? My gears are spinning thinking about the lord of darkness hiring muscle to keep the heavenly choir from sneaking into his club. I am sorry, but it does not compute. Fear not Bouncer, whether you end up tagging with me or not, I shall hire back my full marketing department to devise a justification for your questionable moniker.
I have already squared off against Everett Aloni. Even though my fists are made out of titanium, I can testify that Aloni's jaw is rock hard. With a respect forged out of battle, I know I would have no problem teaming up with Everett to secure a victory over our esteemed opponents should he prove the victory and not fall prey to more of Psychotic Goth's hissy fit.
Lastly there is my dear friend, Buster Friendly. Mind you, I do not like showing favortism but-
{{Knock knock knock is the sound that the Luchian crew would hear if it was anyone else, but smashing through the door is "Beelzebozo" Buster Friendly.}}
BF: Huh? How drunk am I?
AB: Buster! <pointing at the enraged clown while yelling enthusiastically to his staff> Now THAT'S how you make an entrance!
{{Toni makes a note on how the staff should make their entrances moving forwards, as Friendly approaches the champion of industry with a plaque in his hands.}}
BF: What the hell is this?
{{Employee of the month.}}
AB: Now Buster, all of us here at Luchian Incorporated have been incredibly impressed at how you have handled yourself since our initial meeting. Going back to those original talking points, we think you are well on your way to becoming the best Buster Friendly you can be, and we wanted to show our support.
BF: handled myself? I did what I always do....got drunk, popped pills, banged hookers and hated myself. I don't work for you. I never signed anything....I think.
AB: A mere formality I am sure we will take care of in the very near future. In the mean time, along with the trophy and our admiration, the award also comes with a case of Domaine de la Romanee-Conti 1990.
{{Bobbi rolls over a large crate of the high end wine. Buster Friendly's eyes roll back in his head and he almost does a prat fall. Keep it together clown. Beelzebozo looks at the face of his only friend then over at the liquid ambrosia. This repeats a few times, before Buster puts his plaque on top of the case and starts dragging it out with him. Its heavy, and not as dramatic an exit as the entrance was.}}
AB: Let's work on the exit.
{{Toni takes a note. As the sound of a heavy crate sliding disappears, Balan smiles once again at the camera.}}
AB: When I saw how references to that recent Stephen King film were upsetting my close chum, I decided to release a series of non-frightening clown masks through our novelty subsidiary. I am happy to report that they are doing absolute gangbuster business for us, and along with the government grants we received to research coulrophobia; that wonderful man has made me a small fortune this month. Commerce finds a way! As great as everyone I employ is, Buster was a top earner for Luchian in October.
Bobbi: But you do so much for Luchian; why not give yourself the employee of the month award Mr. Balan?
AB: When the company succeeds, I succeed.
It always strikes me as a processing error when management allows for base, personal, _natural_ impulses to put themselves ahead of the product. I greatly respect Phoenix as a wrestler that I have looked up to since my youth. My signing with Syndicate Wrestling was a thrill that was secondary to meeting the great man.
I know just how much you can teach me in the ring, Phoenix. Blinded by my humble programming and star worship, I could not begin to imagine there was something I could teach you, but there is.
Basic fundamentals of management...
If you are not happy with the performance of your staff, create a dialog.
Communication is the key to resolving issues. If you are unimpressed with the people who work under you, creating an environment of fear and hostility does not lend itself to bettering the situation. Throughout the show we have seen Psychotic Goth bully and brutalize a series of new stars. If we have an influx of fresh blood coming into SWAT, even if they are not treating the tournament with the proper respect, not providing them with security to perform is a mistake. The audience does not know who Calum Morgan is, what good does it do the champion to beat him up? If the champion is blindsiding the kid, taking cheap shots, and generally only beating him up because Morgan was not expecting it... does that make Psychotic Goth tough? Does that make him a company man? Instead you have other talents think twice about coming to the association that lets its champion take unwarranted liberties. You can run the same Psychotic Goth promos on SWAT TV repeatedly, like he is actually creating new material; but for the face of the company, he is doing little more than CSK who has him in such an uproar.
You had the power to stop that charade before it started becoming a running gag, Mr. President. Why let Psychotic Goth get away with such horrendous abuse? It even seems to be helping some people.
Me? I had three opponents. It may not have been a battle royal, but I tried to spill enough blood to remind people of the glory days of Kilboy Powerhead and Joe Jeffries.
That is what _I_ promised the fans.
Only one of my three opponents left something to be desired. If Psychotic Goth is only targeting guys he feels are not pulling their weight, why was Dark Phoenix left unmolested? I was really looking forwards to locking up with your son, assuming that the apple did not fall far from the tree.
But the International champion left a lot to be desired.
I am not implying rampant nepotism, perish the thought sir, we all know that you are better than that, Phoenix; but who can tell what goes through the mind of a Psychotic Goth? Why leave him alone? Daniel Collins was such a disappointment. If we ever faced each other in a one on one environment the results would be even more dire. You have my deepest sympathies to go with my utmost respect. I cannot fathom the embarrassment he must cause you.
Speaking of embarrassment, just look at what Psychotic Goth did to you.
I seem to be the only wrestler dealing with multiple eliminations. Psychotic Goth's timely interference let you move forwards with only one fall in a triangle match that involved Marcus White. You were in an elimination match with Marcus White, and did not pin him. I know that YOU of all people realize how important the Helloween Cup is, Phoenix. Getting to the semi-finals with a lousy pinfall victory? Only your tag partner Yokosuda got by with less. ...Do you think that Psychotic Goth did it on purpose to embarrass you? That fiend.
People who refuse to put their company first are toxic to any good organization, sir.
Having a champion behaving in this manner is as bad as having management running over the new faces that a tournament was designed to draw in. It is unacceptable. So when my partner - probably Buster Friendly - and myself set the ring on fire to destroy you and Yokosuda, know that it is done with the utmost respect.
This bloodletting is a necessary evil on our way to exorcising the cancer that is a Psychotic Goth.
I have faith that our upcoming encounter will be a battle of epic proportions. I know you will teach me all sorts of wrestling holds, just as I hope you have gleamed some general management tips from me.
...I just hope that your partner Takedo Yokosuda, a man who seems to care more about the Helloween Cup then anyone else, does not hold your presidency personally responsible for the current state of the Cup and end up shooting you in the face before I have a chance to test my programming.
{{With the virus uploaded, Attila Balan smiles to the camera before turning to the makeshift office. He has his own business to run.}}
"F E A R
T H E
I N D U S T R I A L
M A N"
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mosler
Special GUNS Acess
Mosler's not here man.
Posts: 2,339
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Post by mosler on Apr 24, 2023 15:34:16 GMT -5
{{Taking a break from the hustle of the business world, Attila Balan sits on a bench in the hallway. It is good to get away from the monitors and lazarus pits, as upgrades tend to leave him more metal than man. It took a lot of work getting him back to his current shape after that first match. His personality matrix is still mapping itself. Enjoying a momentary escape from his employees, The Industrial Man sits with his head back against the wall and ear buds blasting his tunes.}}
{{In a few short minutes there is going to be a war, and Balan needs to get into the right headspace to avoid natural responses.}}
{{Its time to psych himself up into fighting one of his childhood heroes, find a way not to disrespect the great Phoenix while not letting Buster down. Attila Balan is between a rock and a hard place. Fortunately his official biography from Luchian Press says that he is made out of Titanium, so he can easily shrug off that pressure. The flesh is weak, but the steel is strong. Just when the magical mechanical philanthropist who is a friend to all men but hates nature is about to achieve a zenlike calm, the camera is in his face.}}
AB: The more old HARDKORE I watch, the more I respect the place.
You can compare and contrast it with SWAT, but it really is like comparing apples and oranges. It is illogical. The way that Takeda Yokosuda likes to compare the Helloween Cup's of years past to this evening's bloodletting is equally flawed. Who can recapture the 100% performance rate of Lucifer Jones breaking a chair over Syberus' head? Even if those two gentlemen did it again, it would be a different energy in a different time. The joy of watching Jones destroy that chair against a man's face would still be quite high octane, yet different. The blood, the pain, the degradation of the warranty... it is all the same, just different names doing their best in a different time.
I am sorry for you, Yokosuda.
You are a man trapped in the past.
Yet even in that past that cages him, Yokosuda was just a man, a flesh humanoid, no legend, no hero, and no code.
When HARDKORE was running the Helloween Cup, in the matches Takeda dreamt of, against the men you idolized, you could not stack up. You were an inferior model. Years later when put in a position where original programming might prove advantageous, you are so embittered that it is different peers in a different network that you cannot seem to grasp the basic similarities that has your past catching up with you. This should be the definitive moment in your model's life cycle. I am sincerely expressing sorrow that this optimal achievement sucks so badly to your ocular scanners. The poison dripping from your exhaust hole has got under the skin of a lot of hard working SWAT stars. They have ever right to be hurt and disgusted by your shrill tone. Rather than appreciate their noble, if different, efforts - you spray waste in their faces. It was with supreme pleasure that I looked forwards to crossing paths with an older unit, even yourself, but you are a fleshling without honor.
If you were as committed to your Japanese criminal persona as you were your bitter hatred for a program that is no longer your own, you would offer us a piece of your finger to save face.
When we beat you - when I defeat you - it would bring a great deal of respect to the Hardkore that you have sullied the name of, if you sliced off a piece for us of your faulty hand by way of apology. I have a sinking feeling that you are more likely to walk away in defeat, chalking the official decision like the tournament up to the faulty programming of your hosts.
Apparently you are used to losing to better men. Well, we are used to beating better men.
I do not enjoy making you play the disgusting racial stereotype, that is just how you showed up. My suggestion for a peak performance finish stands. If you want to save face, you may present your junk parts it in defeat. If not, I may have to remove your excess pride myself during the course of the match.
{{Another virus uploaded, The Industrial Man finally opens his eyes, removing his ear buds to acknowledge the camera.}}
AB: The great thing about Phoenix is that the man works in a state of hardcore. He can do more damage on a small piece of canvas, than any of us can do with sharp cutting implements. Even buzzsaws. <Balan blinks making a mental note to attempt buzzsaws> I would rather be hemorrhaging motor oil externally than deal with the internal combustion he can create. Phoenix, I have dreamed of locking up with you since I was a minibot pretending to lace up my boots. I had always dreamed of a different setting. Certainly not Cleveland, and not in a tag match - but the honor will be there.
In many ways Mr. President, I would like to see you achieve victory.
The story of finals - Yokosuda holding SWAT in so much contempt being put in his place by the company's president? It is a thing of beauty. An instant classic that would have the whole wrestling world abuzz! I can say with 90% certainty that I would purchase that pay per view. I am exceedingly wealthy. Despite my personal enjoyment at processing that match in my random access memory, unfortunately I cannot permit you to have that shining moment.
I made a promise to Buster Friendly to make him the BEST Buster Friendly he could be. I have a 100% drive in fulfilling that commitment, and an 87% chance of succeeding with it. Unlike weather patterns and the human heart, the numbers hold no false positives. When I made my cherry blossom oath, I could not go back on my essential functions.
The promise of success. Did that mean using my vast wealth to keep him in a better line of alcohol, and hire a series of motivational speakers to make him more volatile? Time will tell. What can I do in my capacity as a wrestling machine? Well the VERY LEAST I can do is make sure I pull my own weight in getting the two of us to the finals of the Helloween Cup. Being made out of titanium, my weight is 20 metric tons, but I will carry it. Again, titanium.
It does not matter how much I admire the great Phoenix or pity the sad Yokosuda, I owe it to Buster to win this war, and I will. We have a pact. We have a classic of our own to put on.
{{Racing down the hallway in ten inch stilettos, Bobbi searches frantically for her employer. Throwing a fistful of lug nuts in his mouth as a quick snack between matches, Balan is about to start listening to his music again when Bobbi spots him.}}
Bobbi: Mr. Balan!
AB: How are you, Ms. Steincott?
Bobbi: Beelzebozo has hired a number of men to dress and act like him.
{{...Attila Balan stares up at the ceiling, thinking about the ramifications of this controlled chaos.}}
AB: ...So are you suggesting that Buster is misappropriating my franchise concept?
Bobbi: It certainly looks that way.
{{Balan appears surprisingly pleased, for a robot.}}
AB: Optimal. Has anyone seen this army of clowns yet?
Bobbi: They appeared briefly over SWAT TV, it seems like he's already lost interest in them and is going to be interacting with furries instead.
{{Shaking his head in what he hopes passes for amusement, Balan swallows the lugnuts before rising from the bench. Stealing his idea, it seems like Buster Friendly is becoming a better Beelzebozo by the minute.}}
AB: That's my Buster. Ms. Steincott, have Zoran politely round up any Beelzebozo's that are wandering around the arena and draw up that paperwork regarding Project K4119 for Mister Friendly. Things are about to get 28 percent more exciting!
{{Barely able to contain his excitement beneath that cold metallic exterior, Attila Balan starts marching back towards the Luchian Inc. dressing room while Bobbi tries to keep up in those ridiculous shoes.}}
" F E A R
T H E
I N D U S T R I A L
M A N ! ! ! ! ! ! "
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mosler
Special GUNS Acess
Mosler's not here man.
Posts: 2,339
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Post by mosler on Apr 24, 2023 15:36:36 GMT -5
{{Having worked themselves into a blood thirsty frenzy, an angry mob of SWAT Backyard workers stalk through the backstage area. Sirius Man is followed by The TREE from Poltergeist, Junior the mutant baby from IT'S ALIVE, Sadako, Frankenberry, Zork Nontext, The Human Guinea Pig, and Aztec Dracula, all of which are armed with torches and pitch forks. You question why Viper would let the monstrous portion of his roster run around the arena while taking his human gimmicks to the haunted house. The vicious beasts stomp down the backstage hallway, stopping as come across a private dressing room labeled "Luchian Inc." Bingo. Sirius Man raises a noose, ready to lynch the man who cost Aztec Dracula the Helloween Cup; Zork Nontext opens the door.}}
AB: Come in my friends!
{{The massive dressing room has had two long rolling assembly lines set up. On the farthest one, "The Industrial Man" Attila Balan lies with his back against the metal rolling pins. Two dozen women wearing clinical white outfits physically pass Balan from hand to hand, dragging him across the rolling pins. He resembles a motor vehicle being assembled together. An electronic line or simple massage would make way more sense for the cramped surroundings, but where would be the fun in that. Along with the previous set up, a number of additional women use power sanders to work out the damage that Phoenix and Yokosuda caused to his exterior.}}
SM: Don't friends us! You killed Aztec Dracula, and you're going to pay for it!
AD: Yo no bebo vino?
AB: Come in out of the hall, I'm sure this is just a horrible misunderstanding. Please join me!
{{Before Sirius Man can object or even wonder what this bizarre post match workout entails, an army of masseuses have ushered the SWAT Backyard mob in, with the door closing behind them.}}
"L U C H I A N ~ INC.
P R E S E N T S
T H E
A S S E M B L Y
L I N E"
{{SMASH CUT: Boisterous laughter as Sirius Man and the rest of the Backyard players exit the Luchian Inc. dressing room smoking cigars and wearing silk robes. The door closes behind them as they exit into the halls.}}
SM: What a fantastic guy!
AD: Estas tunicas son tan suaves como si las abrazara una nube!
F: They are nice. He's so kind and generous. I want to be his best friend.
SM: I met him first!
{{The SWAT Backyard guys giggle like schoolgirls while thinking about their newest man crush.}}
ANNOUNCER: Guests of the assembly line receive Gurkha Black Dragon cigars and robes courtesy of Turnbull & Asser.
HGP: I sure hope he wins the Helloween Cup.
SM: HANG ON! Dracula was supposed to win... wait a minute... we HATE Attila Balan! What just happened here? He tricked us! That son of a bitch.
{{Retying his noose, Sirius Man stomps back to the Luchian Inc. dressing room to give our host a piece of his mind; only to find the door locked.}}
SM: He locked us out! The clever bastard! I'm going to murder that son of a bitch!
F: I hope Mr. Balan's not upset with us.
{{JUMP CUT: Inside the Luchian Inc. locker room, the banging on the door is drowned out by the buzz of power sanders. The Industrial Man is oblivious to all the noise, lost in random access memory banks.}}
AB: Bobbi. Have Zoren bring me those psychological reports before the finals; we have some very important decisions to make.
<turning to the camera> Welcome!
I'm just in middle of patching up the damage caused by President Phoenix before the grand finale. I haven't experienced a beating like that since leaving the old world. Thank you Mister President for making a childhood binary dream of mine come true. Locking up with a legend of your calibre? Verbal communication cannot express my delight. It was a very close contest, my sensors had it 60.54% in our favour, and it could have easily gone the other way, if only your cowardly partner Yokosuda had not abandoned you. At the moment, I have my people currently looking into purchasing one of his fingers, should that pan out, I will be certain to FedEx it over to you posthaste as a sign of appreciation over that optimal encounter!
Now all that remains tonight is Buster.
While I always strive to push my systems to 200%, victories are not required with my prime directives. Unlike that flesh humanoid Yokosuda, I conduct myself in a manner that brings efficiency to both this model type and my company; and do not accept defeat. Is being pinned for a three count or indicating submission defeat? Within the parameters of a wrestling contest, affirmative. Not in the larger operations scope I function in.
Which brings this exchange to the "Better Buster Friendly" scenario.
Do wrestling parameters matter to you? Over the course of the evening, I have dominated the International champion for victory. I have pinned the president of the company, a man with more credentials and prestige than anyone else in this Atlantic Coast region. I have pushed this frame to its breaking point and beyond. Through these operations, I believe I am becoming noticed within this circle. This model type has an 87.2% chance of title contention shortly, regardless of winning the Helloween Cup.
Processing this knowledge. What is the best outcome for my plan of making Buster Friendly the BEST Buster Friendly he can be? Will the cup victory catapult him to new heights on his path to evolution, or allow him to relax and stagnate in his current comfort zone? Even if you did continue to follow your current program, Buster, it is important to understand that I like you. You are cared about. No matter what you attempt, I have set my prime directives up so that you will always have a friend in me.
Do I _ALLOW_ Buster Friendly to win? <smile> I cannot begin to imagine the stream of obscenities Beelzebozo would come up with contemplating me not giving 100%. Having said that, even if Buster is trying to terminate me, how will he know that the victory was not tainted by questionable programming?
<smile> He has my word. Cross my synapse circuits and hope to be rebooted.
So the unknown factor in this scenario's result is: Does Buster Friendly reach maximum potential... "thrive" in chaos, or does he reach that efficiency in order?
<shaking head like a human> We are all aware of what he believes the two of us represents. Will his chaos become stronger from the victory? Is chaos the goal? If so, would it become stronger failing against my sense of order?
I have a feeling that the end of this evening is only the beginning of the testing group.
Still, because I want him resting for a classic encounter rather than going on an alcohol-fuelled rant, allow me to put Beelzebozo's mind at ease.
Buster.
Out of my system's reverence to Syndicate Wrestling And Tradition, Hardkore America, Atlantic Coast Wrestling, the proud history of the Helloween Cup, the other flesh humanoids of the locker room vicinity who required medical attention for their damaged vessels, and the paying audience that have embraced me - I am not here to take the easy way out. I will not dishonour your victory by letting scenarios dictate the outcome. You may defeat me, my systems indicate that you currently have a 54% chance of victory - but if that happens, you are going to know that you earned it.
{{Smile fading the mechanical man looks more serious than usual.}}
I have offered you the friendship of steel.
It is inorganic.
It is hard.
It is unmoving.
And it is painful.
<smile.>
Good luck tonight, my friend.
{{Turning to the psychological reports that Bobbi has brought him, Attila Balan turns off his non-essential systems to restore power for the climax. His team of physicians continue to labour over his beaten body like an F1 pit crew. Realizing that the angry mob outside the Luchian Inc. dressing room might mean he is trapped there for a while, the camera operator fades to black.}}
"F E A R
T H E
I N D U S T R I A L
M A N
T H I S
H E L L O W E E N
C U P
F L E S H L I N G S ! "
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mosler
Special GUNS Acess
Mosler's not here man.
Posts: 2,339
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Post by mosler on Apr 24, 2023 15:42:27 GMT -5
TURMOIL Baltimore Maryland - NOV 2017
{{Black and white footage shows construction workers sitting on steel grid, welding away at the skeleton frame of what will become a massive highrise.}}
{{A long beam stikes up in the air, mocking the heavens.}}
{{As the image moves in further it is not another steel rod but a wooden stick.}}
{{Having reached capacity, a massive green caterpillar inches along the stick.}}
{{Horizontal I-beams are bolted to steel columns as building continues its ascent to the sky.}}
{{At the zenith of the stick, the caterpillar falls back, hanging upside down.}}
{{Concrete mixes as the men set about reinforcing the structure.}}
{{The caterpillar starts to molt, time-lapse photography taking us through to its shining chrysalis.}}
{{The time-lapse continues with the building, climbing sixty stories in a few seconds.}}
{{Within the hardened outer layer of the pupa, the caterpillar releases its enzymes melting away its tissue.}}
{{As the two image cut back and forth rapidly, cracks start to form in the outer shell just as lights are turned on in the building.}}
{{Creation and re-creation. Evolution and progress. The hideous way of the natural world, and the clean efficiency of Industry.}}
{{As the butterfly starts to emerge from its cocoon, at least one SWAT TV viewer will recognize this series of images as a celebration of the ultimate victory. That viewer will curse the name of the wonderful mechanical man that assembled this montage. The name of...}}
"F E A R
T H E
I N D U S T R I A L
M A N"
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mosler
Special GUNS Acess
Mosler's not here man.
Posts: 2,339
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Post by mosler on Apr 24, 2023 15:45:43 GMT -5
L U C H I A N I N C.
P R E S E N T S
" C A R P O O L "
{{SWAT Headquarters.}}
{{With the recent affiliation to EFedZone, it seemed like a good idea to avoid any future embarrassments by calling in all of the boys to go over company policies regarding workplace harassment action.}}
{{Kidnapping? Frowned upon.}}
{{The locker room likes to grumble about having their time wasted with these friendly reminders of things they are already aware of, but people are missing. The downside to this road trip is having been flown into HQ, it is now up to the talent to get themselves to Baltimore for Turmoil. The Atlantic Coast region used to be very good about flying them everywhere. Is the business that bad or is Phoenix just incredibly cheap? Timeless Alex Turner is hoping to get out of the shadow of the building before Roxy can launch into a diatribe about Stefan Slain's penny-pinching ways.}}
Roxy : Cant you just, i don't know, "zap" us to Baltimore with that new Timemaster Watch hon?
Timeless: Maybe, i don't know, we still haven't tried it yet or know how it works properly.
Roxy: Well, there is not time lik ...
Attila Balan: Excuse me.
{{Stepping out of The Pale Rider - his 80' long and 15' feet high tractor-trailer limousine with four separate lounges, full commercial-sized bar and crew of six - Attila Balan is decked out in a Stuart Hughes Diamond Edition designer suit. One of the passenger doors is held open by his personal assistant Bobbi, Balan stands in the doorway welcoming the two with a warm smile.}}
Attila Balan: My colleagues and I are just heading up to Maryland at the moment, would you two care for a ride? It would be my absolute pleasure to enjoy your company.
{{Timeless Alex Turner is not a jealous man, and it is not the smile that Roxy returns that makes him shake his head "no," but rather the nauseating thought of making small talk with this rich, handsome, intelligent piece of shit who somehow managed to pin Daniel Collins. I mean come on Collins! If you were laying down for anyone why couldn't it be Turner!?}}
Timeless: We're go----
Roxy: It would be our pleasure.
{{Pushing past the objections of Turner, Roxy saunters over to the multimillionaires' limousine beast; when Bobbi slams the door shut. The door closing is masked by The Industrial man clasping his metal hands together in joy.}}
Attila Balan: Excellent! I know we have a lot in a common, and I cannot wait to analyze the data that a twenty-hour road trip will accumulate.
{{Wait a minute. Roxy and Timeless look taken aback as the massive Limousine starts to back up revealing...}}
Attila Balan: What fun we will have!
{{...a 2008 Toyota Prius jammed full of wrestlers!}}
Timeless: No!
Roxy: That seems a little tight.
Attila Balan: The space has been optimized for maximum interactions!
{{Before Timeless and Roxy can protest further, Balan has herded them into the front passenger door, and is moving around to the driver's side. Roxy is about to object, but the two dozen eyes cramped into the back seats already have murderous intentions, and the small vehicle is heavy with tense atmosphere. Timeless fears no man, but doesn't want to lose his prime seat.}}
Zoran Sainovic: Why do zey get to ride in front?
Attila Balan: Because you and Damian called shotgun at the same time. I've run the simulations a dozen times since it happened, but if the argument turns physical, you do not win.
{{In the back Zoran turns his beady eyes to the much larger Damian Payne, the two giving each other dirty looks.}}
Attila Balan: I really enjoyed our exchanges in the Helloween Cup - I'm just sorry it wasn't a one on one encounter. Just like with Payne back there, we could have an amazing singles encounter if there weren't other bodies in the way. Alex, you showed a lot more passion than that so-called champion Daniel Collins. If DP had not sat out the first half of the match, my data shows that you would have had a much stronger chance at victory. The man is a disgrace to his father's legacy.
Timeless: He is more than a disgrace, he is filth! A joke and an embarrassment to our company holding that gold!
{{As Balan turns the keys in the ignition, a last window of opportunity to throw themselves out of the Prius is closed by Vile "Vince" Viper who joins the two in the front. This forth body up front pushes Roxy closer to Balan much to Timeless' displeasure. It takes several slams, but the DEVIL of SWAT eventually manages to get the door closed behind him.}}
{{The car starts.}}
"You have once again entered... The world of survival horror Good luck!"
{{As the car starts speeding along, Old Scratch flashes his pearly yellows at his fellow damned commuters.}}
VVV: Expecting Tanner to be worth more cash, I used my entire gasoline budget for the month to burn down his home. What are the odds?
Attila Balan: 98 percent. You are involved in a very physical occupation at an unrealistically high age, all available data suggests you are bad with money, Vincent.
VVV: The mouth on this fucking toaster. ME - bad with money? Didn't you just buy a circus?
Roxy: Got any jobs going at the Circus for a former tambourine master, Mr. Industrial?
Timeless : Over my dead body you work for that... clown. That's where Marcus White belongs ... sign him up Balan, after I finish him off at Turmoil he will need a new gig and will fit right in with all them freaks.
Attila Balan: I do not believe our insurance will cover Mr. White. I do not know how Slain does it, heart of gold or some other valuable mineral, I would diagnose. I am exceedingly wealthy but do not have that kind of collateral in my chest cavity. It says a lot that you are concerned for White's employment opportunities, Alex. You may have fooled the others, but my optical sensors can scan past your cold exterior - you are all heart, Timeless. Caring about White's ability to earn a living? Optimal. You are just full of surprises. You are misjudging my dear friend Buster though, you would have nothing to fear from Roxy interacting with him. Buster Friendly is a perfect gentleman, and by the time I am finished with him, he will be a champion of industry. As for you Ms. Roxy, there will always be a place at Luchian Inc. for a person of your impressive talents. So in conclusion.. I am not a toaster.
VVV: But since I said it, youre now thinking of getting a hardware upgrade to incorporate a toaster into your cossstume.
{{The car speeds up as the unfeeling machine that is Balan gets angrier at the elderly albino.}}
Attila Balan <muttering>: System error.
VVV <cackling>: That's the best thing about lunatics that think they're appliances. It's so easy to push their buttons, because they frequently have PHYSICAL buttons glued to their batshit crazy fucking ssselvesss.
{{Using a switchblade he keeps in his switchblade comb to carve his name in the dashboard, your king of snakes is feeling chatty.}}
VVV: Everyone here for that proper workplace conduct lecture? Hey Roxy, remember that time at the Tanner Memorial where I beat you sssenssselesssssss? Like you were outside the ring minding your own business and I violently attacked you just to annoy Turner here? You probably needed reconstructive surgery. You still don't look as good. You avoided TV tapings for a couple of months. Is any of this ringing any bells? ...Well after that little lecture earlier, I learned that attacking you for no reason, while funny, was inappropriate workplace conduct. So there you have it.
{{As close to an apology as The Scarlet Serpent has ever given, Roxy should feel honoured.}}
Roxy: (trying to line up her phone for a selfie and not really paying attention) Ohhh, thanks, i guess.
{{Roxy takes a selfie of herself beaming, the crew in the back all jostling to try and get in the snap}}
Timeless: Stupid memorial cup. I haven't forgotten that night Viper, and your day is coming, same as the rest of you simpletons trying to clamour to get in our pics.
VVV: Please kids, yelling at me is just going to wake up my 24-inch python, and this car is cramped enough without me unleashing the beast. Besides, it's not like Roxy got kidnapped or anything.
Roxy : Timeless has a twenty FIVE inch python!
Zoran Sainovic: Pythons have been known to eat each other.
VVV <choosing to ignore the Timeless pissing contest and Zoran's homophobic digs>: Yeah, nothing too bad happened to Roxy. No, Vampira got a raw deal. I give Emo Loon a lot of flack, but having your squeeze taken and forcibly confined? You have to feel for Psychotic Goth.
{{Timeless and Roxy look incredibly uncomfortable as the large frame of TripleV turns over in the passenger side seat to kneel on it, looking into the back.}}
VVV <fiendish grin>: So why did you Damian?
{{Payne ... who had been looking out of the window snapped round and glared at Viper.}}
Damian Payne: What the hell are you yapping about now? Why did I what?
VVV: It fits your MO to a tea. Kidnapping that poor Vampira girl, unleashing the fury of Psychotic Goth on SWAT. No secrets between friends. How much did Phoenix pay you to do it?
Damian Payne: Vince ... I respect the hell out of you but you are talking out of your ass right now. I might be pissed off at Goth but I don't do shit like that. It was bad enough when someone got involved with my immediate family a few years back and a dead baby fetus got involved but enough of that. That ís in the past. My future is getting some degree of revenge on Goth for what happened at the Helloween cup show.
VVV: Yeah, that Helloween Cup rampage was juvenile. I had money on you to win it.
Aztec Dracula: Que?
VVV: I had money on you to win too. <infamous sneer> Let's just say I lost a lot of money on everyone present at the moment, but I wanted Payne to win. Damian, you are the scariest mother fucker in SWAT, what the hell happened?
Damian Payne: Son of a bitch attacked me from behind instead of facing me like the man he claims to be. That changes when I next see him. I could give two shits who else is in the ring with us
- Goth has at least one ChokeBomb in his future!
VVV: Well I know you'll show them what Sadistic Insanity really means.
Damian Payne: Yep ... anyone who gets in my way is going to pay the price for their stupidity. Now quit your rattling man ... I need to plan for my match.
Attila Balan: Oh, here are some more...
{{The Prius starts to slow down for LEFT Tentacle holding a cardboard sign reading: "Baltimore or Bust."}}
VVV: IT'SSS A TRAP!
{{The car speeds past a dejected looking Tentacle. Wiping sweat from his brow, the tired looking hitchhiker turns to a nearby bush where Frankenberry, Sirius Man, "RSO" Frank Wilkes, "Bigamist" Jonathan Smith, Short Circuit Protagonist, Good Guy Doll probably possessed by the spirit of Charles Lee Ray, Rainbow Bright, Cynical Etch A Sketch, Pinch Hitter Fury, The Cosmic Cowboy, Human Guinea Pig, "John Wayne's Stunt Double" Bill Stokes, The Arizona Assassin's Guild, and the Tree from Evil Dead 2 all hide out of sight, waiting for a good simaritan stupid enough to stop for LEFT.}}
LEFT Tentacle: Sorry guys.
"RSO" Frank Wilkes: I still think I should be the one holding the sign.
Sirius Man: We all agreed that LEFT Tentacle was the least threatening looking.
{{Meanwhile back in the car, Roxy plays with the radio while taking selfies.}}
VVV: Are you having your trailer limo following us?
{{The boys all turn to look at the Pale Rider following twenty feet behind them. Its a massively heavy vehicle, but there are so many people crammed in the Prius they keep a consistent speed.}}
Attila Balan: I am not carpooling to save the environment.
{{Suddenly a black stretch limo passes the Pale Rider and starts to overtake the Prius As the rear window lines up with the Prius' driver side, the glass goes down to reveal Dragon King Tatsuo Takeshi. SWAT's hottest prospect and member of the Dragon Empire is headed to Baltimore in style. Starring into the packed vehicle, Takeshi starts to converse.}}
Tatsuo Takeshi: It looks like you've taken in more than you can provide for.
Attila Balan: I do not believe in leaving people in need. If additional space is required, well, then industry will find a way.
Tatsuo Takeshi: Perhaps I can provide assistance.
{{...}}
{{Attila Balan looks in his rearview mirror at all the miserable faces in the back, then signs, ready to admit defeat as he turns to Takeshi with a pained smile.}}
{{...}}
{{JUMP CUT. Tatsuo Takeshi has joined the wrestlers in the back, sitting between referee Skip Tracy and Johnny Natural. Adding insult to injury is that his spacious black limosine has joined Balan's Pale Rider in a makeshift convoy behind the stuffed Prius.}}
Zoran Sainovic: Jean Paul Sartre said zat hell is other people. Where do you stand on Sartre?
VVV: I haven't been able to feel my legs for the lassst hour. I might be standing on a lot of people. I don't know all of their names.
Aztec Dracula: Como es el plan dental en el imperio del dragon?
Tatsuo Takeshi: The dental plan is really great plan we have. Those that talk bad about us, get their teeth knocked out. I may be a good guy, but I know how to fight.
Aztec Dracula: Yo no bebo... vino.
Tatsuo Takeshi: When it comes to the business purchases, that comes to my manager Mr. Green. We can get him on the phone if like about the purchase plan.
VVV: Hey <almost poking Timeless in the eye as he points at Dracula> I own him. If you want him in your cult that'sss fine, but he needs to be purchased from me.
Roxy : How about some rd stories? When did you all pop your cherry?
VVV: That reminds me of Kilroy Evan's mom... <furrows brow> before I get into her, Kilroy isn't back there, is he?
P. Adrian Tanner: I CAN'T SEE SHIT. IT'S SO DARK IN HERE MOTHERFUCKERS!
VVV: Wait, Balan did you put Puppet Tanner in the trunk!?
Attila Balan: Your effigy of the late Arizona Assassin makes everyone uncomfortable or sad. Is that why you want him out here?
VVV: I need to get in his good books if I'm ever going to inherit Adrian's estate!
P. Adrian Tanner: I'M GOING TO OUTLIVE YOUR OLD AS A DINOSAUR ASS, YOU CRAZY FOSSIL FUEL UNCLE FUCKER! I'M MADE OUT OF MOTHERFUCKING WOOD! I FLOAT LIKE WITCHES! YOU CAN'T EVEN CROSS RUNNING WATER YOU GHOSTLY DOUCHE! SPEAKING OF WOOD, I'M GOING TO LEAVE EVERYTHING TO THAT SEXY FOX... KILROY EVAN'S MOM!
VVV <pulling out his magnum> : Pull over! WE'LL SEE HOW WELL YOU FLOAT FULL OF LEAD!
P. Adrian Tanner: I KNOW YOU WANT TO EAT ME BUT DON'T CALL ME PENCIL DICK, YOU 0.3MM PENCIL DICK!
{{Vile turns awkwardly hoping the Magnum has enough force to go right through the SWAT locker room currently residing in the back seat, straight through into the trunk. If the Gods favor him, he won't even hit the gas tank. In an effort to de-escalate the situation your Industrial Man changes the subject.}}
Attila Balan: Vincent - to obtain research material for a number of our programs there are a number of recording devices in the vehicle. My programs are not fully versed in the legal requirements to obtain the financial holdings of an inanimate object, but it seems to me that assaulting the object would not look good for your case.
VVV <sulking as he puts away the gun> : ...shit.
Attila Balan: Also... forgive me if you're not aware of this, but you provide the voice of the puppet yourself.
P. Adrian Tanner: ...MOTHERfu...*
Attila Balan: Thank you for your suggestion of early sexual conquests as a conversation topic Roxy, but along with me being against that natural order, WE JUST sat through a four-hour lecture that makes such discussions inappropriate at work.
{{Everyone sighs. Man that meeting at SWAT headquarters was pointless. It seems to be lost on them.}}
Attila Balan: Perhaps a safer subject?
VVV: How the KGB somehow makes SWAT look worse than only having title contenders that boycott SWAT TV?
Attila Balan: I am not overly familiar with the KGB, but CSK seems like a great wre---
VVV: Let me tell you about the KGB - I used my best material at the roast of James Fierce.
Anonymoose: Why would anyone name themselves after a defunct spy organization from a country that collapsed 30 years ago?
Zoran Sainovic: And zey had to misspell cross to do it!
Anonymoose: I suspect masturbating to Kerri Russel.
{{Having just brought up the company retreat on harassment, your robotic host faceplants the steering wheel as the subject gets back to the only reason to watch the show The Americans.}}
{{Everyone in the car bonds talking about how much the KGB sucks.}}
{{...everyone but Pesci.}}
{{...!}}
{{They didn't even know he was there! When did he get in? Sitting next to Payne close to the window, the brains behind the KGB does not look happy. The laughter dies.}}
Pesci: Why stop? Have you a good chuckle.
{{Wait for it...}}
Pesci: It's funny. Funny. What exactly do you all find so funny? What do you mean, you mean the way I talk? What? Funny how? What's funny about it?
{{This is a very cramped space. If this homage continues, the wrestlers are pretty sure they'll have to dance to gunfire which is really annoying in this sardine can car.}}
Attila Balan: Pesci, no, you got it all wrong.
Pesci: You mean, let me understand this cause, ya know maybe it's me, I'm a little fucked up maybe, but I'm funny how, I mean funny like I'm a clown, I amuse you?
{{The car slows down as it pulls alongside Beelzebozo.}}
{{The clown prince of chaos is within earshot just as Pesci digs in the clown line.}}
{{Without the KGB around as muscle, Pesci decides to continue his revenge later just in case actual clown gets volatile.}}
Attila Balan: Hey Buster!
{{The clown turns to his closest friend in the world with all the suspicion you would expect of someone who chooses to call him friend.}}
Attila Balan: Really stoked for our big rematch! I would have waited a little while longer before playing it out, but what do I know? With my finely tuned mechanical mind for business. So anyway, we are driving to the next Turmoil, would you care to join us, Buster? It would not be the same without you!
{{Twenty people in a small car? Beelzebozo looks into the cramped Prius then back to his benefactor.}}
Beelzebozo: ...I'm not that kind of clown.
{{SNAP!}}
{{Expecting that response, Attila Balan shoots Buster Friendly a sad smile. It isn't returned.}}
Attila Balan: Fair enough Buster... I will be seeing you in Baltimore, my friend.
{{As "Holiday Road" by Lyndsay Buckingham starts to play over the radio, the car speeds off into the horizon followed by the two spacious limos.}}
#I found out long ago...........# #oooOoooooooooooh............# #Its a long way down that holiday road...# #oooOOOooooooooOh...................#
...
#HOLIDAY ROOOOOooooooOOOOOOooooad#
#Holiday Roooooooooooooooooooooooooad!!!#
{{You have the feeling it's going to be a long ride.}}
" F E A R
T H E
K I N D N E S S
O F
T H E
I N D U S T R I A L
M A N "
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