Mind Over Meat (LD/Overheated)
Jul 7, 2023 17:10:19 GMT -5
bloodiedfox, mosler, and 2 more like this
Post by Mongo the Destroyer on Jul 7, 2023 17:10:19 GMT -5
*The room is dimly lit, a projector being the only source of light as it shines above the heads of Lord Dominicus, Dinosaur Bones, and Big Bone who watch the screen the light is cast on intently. At the front of the room stands The Star Trekker with a laser pointer gesturing.*
Trekker: …Now I have studied the subject closely. VERY closely.
*She gestures to an image of BEEF, Dominicus’ opponent for Overheated.*
Trekker: As you can see, he is almost entirely muscle.
*The joke character taken too far to back down now gently reaches out her hand to touch the image, but it is only a flat picture of BEEF, not the real thing.*
LD: Well, except for his stomach.
*The Star Trek cosplayer (currently wearing a teal Starfleet Sciences Division uniform) shushes the leader of the Bad to the Bone crew and gestures to projecto-BEEF’s tummy, and by gestures I mean she tries to rub it.*
Trekker: THE POINT IS, that you will be unable to beat him through normal means.
LD: Yeah I sort of figured that. It’d be like trying to shake a snack machine or fight a refrigerator. If he fell on me I’d be dead.
DB: BUT IF YOU CRAWLED INSIDE HIM MAYBE YOU’D SURVIVE A NUCLEAR BLAST.
Trekker: Ok, these are all good points except for ones that reference George Lucas movies.
*DB doesn’t get it but that’s probably safer.*
Trekker: Anyway, after EXTENSIVE studying, I think I’ve identified his weak spot.
*She clicks the pointer, which doubles as a remote for the slide show and the image changes to…*
LD: Ah yes, his groin. That makes sense.
Trekker: Indeed. Like most men, he should be softer around his testicular region, thus making it ripe for unwelcomed boots and or fists.
LD: So what you’re saying is that I should punch him in the dick, right?
Trekker: Well more specifically, his balls.
DB: IS THAT HIS WAGYU PORTION?
Trekker: I don’t think he’s actually made of beef.
DB: THEN MIGHT A LEGAL SUIT FOR FALSE ADVERTISING NOT ALSO BE EFFECTIVE?
Trekker: I don’t think that’s a case we could win; he’s like a piece of prime rib.
DB: BUT HE’S NOT ACTUALLY PRIME RIB, RIGHT?
LD: So I just pop him in the junk. That seems simple enough.
Trekker: I’m not saying that it’s enou…
*For a moment all of the noise of this discussion fades as we look over to Big Bone, who is trying to ignore that the rest of the team is planning to cheat. He covers his face. The sound slowly returns.*
Trekker: Anyway, just in case you needed it, I went ahead and through the power of AI have been able to make a fairly accurate diagram of where you need to hit him.
*She presses another button but the camera switches to an angle that ensures we do not see what’s on the screen. Everyone is immediately taken aback.*
LD: GAH! TURN IT OFF!
BB: Tan grande…
DB: I AM NOT FAMILIAR WITH THIS CUT OF BEEF.
Trekker: He could you guys calm down; I worked really hard on this presentation!
BB: That’s not the only thing that’s hard.
*Dominicus is trying to shield his eyes.*
Trekker: Do you have any idea how hard it was to get an AI to make this!? They kept trying to put boobs on him! I had to Google all night to find one that’d make an anatomically correct model! And then to make sure it had the proper size and turgidity…
*Big Bone picks up her phone and turns on the translator.*
BB: Could you repeat that last part?
Trekker: What, turgidity?
Phone: Turgencia.
*BB nods, realizing he should have expected that.*
LD: THAT’S IT, MEETING OVER!
DB: THERE WAS MEAT THAT WAS GOING TO BE SERVED?
Trekker: BUT WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT BEEF AND STUDY THIS MODEL CLOSELY!
*The room descends into yelling as the scene fades out…*
*…and fades back in to Lord Dominicus, specifically his masked face as seen from a pawn’s-eye-view. His head is down on a table looking across a chess board. He raises it and turns his attention to the camera.*
LD: You might not recognize this, BEEF, but when you’re under 220lbs like me wrestling isn’t about power or strength, it’s a game of chess. It’s about learning how to out-think your opponent in order to overcome them. And that, my large and aptly named friend, is where I excel.
*He flicks one of the chess pieces off of the board.*
LD: Take my recent time in CAR, for example. You might say, “Lord Dominicus, you didn’t win the Sippy Cup.” That’s correct, but you’re only looking at the surface level of things. Because when you start to pay attention you’ll notice a few things.
*Another piece gets flicked off.*
LD: Despite having what appears to be a losing record I’m easily one of CAR’s most decorated stars. Sure, the Esoteric Order of Driving has more, but they were there from the start when it was basically just them and the Angry Mad Chemists. But me? Four Fan Belts…
*Flick.*
LD: …3 Athletic Cups…
*Flick.*
LD: …Half of a Silicone Cup…
*Flick.*
LD: …and my own Sippy Cup already. Did you know I haven’t ever won a qualifying race for the Sippy Cup and yet won it once and came in second this last time? I don’t even feel bad about this last month because I’m pretty sure CopyWhatever’s team cheated. I don’t think that car has an engine, so there’s no way he could have won fairly. I respect that.
*He shakes off the brief moment of respect.*
LD: But the point is, despite Reedy Creek- Marty’s stupid Mickey Mouse Club- being very winning in their ways, they’ve not even scratched the surface of important wins in CAR. All of that keeps falling on Bad to the Bone racing, headed up by me. But perhaps you’re not keeping up with all of this complicated talk so let me make it more simple…
*Dominicus starts to throw the different pieces off of the chess board one-by-one until only the king is left.*
LD: Last month’s race should have been to decide who would represent the company at Overheated, I mean it was a big race that we had to qualify for in the first place and it was the very month needed for the feds to report who would be their representative. And yet it’s me facing you. Why? Because I out-thought Grandma Mary and put her in a position where she had to send me.
*He knocks over the king.*
LD: Months of work and here I am on my way to Night of Champions…once I get past you, Chuck Eye. People like me don’t need to spend every hour at the gym. No, I’m getting enough of a workout right here…
*The DARK LORD OF THE XHF points to his head.*
LD: That’s where my brain is, around where your head cheese is located. But if I do walk out of Overheated with the Night of Champions slot that Jack Diamond so foolishly entrusted to you, don’t feel bad. You wouldn’t be the first one to underestimate me.
*Dominicus leans against the table and holds up a finger.*
LD: First XHF Junior Heavyweight Champion of the Network Era.
*Another finger goes up.*
LD: First and ONLY EWF Superior Champion during their relaunch on the Network.
*Another finger goes up, soon followed by several others.*
LD: NPW’s North American Cruiserweight and Double Crown Champion, also known as the ONLY Triple Crown Champion and at a time their ONLY singles champion.
*Yet another finger, probably his thumb at this point…and his entire other hand.*
LD: Oh and enough titles in CAR to make a sexy alien costume for the Interloper.
LD: See, NEW YORK STRIP CUT, where I go I adapt how I need to in order to excel. I can change, I can mold myself into what I need to be and achieve that which I want. You’re just a slab of Chuck Roast- which I’m sure works fine for you and will serve you well in DTF. But this isn’t the local level, T-BONE, this is the XHF Network Global division. This is somewhere I know already, this is somewhere I thrive, and this is where I excel.
*He does an arm curl to reveal his not-super-toned biceps.*
LD: I’m not a big piece of man-meat, but I’m big where it counts. My head.
*Again he points to his brain, oblivious to the other implication he just made.*
LD: And that’s where my muscles are. So come Overheated we’ll see who can overcome- a man who’s known for being an ox of a man, or the GREATEST MASTERMIND in the entire Network.
*He lowers his head back down to the table, looking at the overturned king.*
LD: I’ll be seeing you soon, big guy.
*A DominiHand flicks the king into the camera as the feed cuts abruptly.*
Trekker: …Now I have studied the subject closely. VERY closely.
*She gestures to an image of BEEF, Dominicus’ opponent for Overheated.*
Trekker: As you can see, he is almost entirely muscle.
*The joke character taken too far to back down now gently reaches out her hand to touch the image, but it is only a flat picture of BEEF, not the real thing.*
LD: Well, except for his stomach.
*The Star Trek cosplayer (currently wearing a teal Starfleet Sciences Division uniform) shushes the leader of the Bad to the Bone crew and gestures to projecto-BEEF’s tummy, and by gestures I mean she tries to rub it.*
Trekker: THE POINT IS, that you will be unable to beat him through normal means.
LD: Yeah I sort of figured that. It’d be like trying to shake a snack machine or fight a refrigerator. If he fell on me I’d be dead.
DB: BUT IF YOU CRAWLED INSIDE HIM MAYBE YOU’D SURVIVE A NUCLEAR BLAST.
Trekker: Ok, these are all good points except for ones that reference George Lucas movies.
*DB doesn’t get it but that’s probably safer.*
Trekker: Anyway, after EXTENSIVE studying, I think I’ve identified his weak spot.
*She clicks the pointer, which doubles as a remote for the slide show and the image changes to…*
LD: Ah yes, his groin. That makes sense.
Trekker: Indeed. Like most men, he should be softer around his testicular region, thus making it ripe for unwelcomed boots and or fists.
LD: So what you’re saying is that I should punch him in the dick, right?
Trekker: Well more specifically, his balls.
DB: IS THAT HIS WAGYU PORTION?
Trekker: I don’t think he’s actually made of beef.
DB: THEN MIGHT A LEGAL SUIT FOR FALSE ADVERTISING NOT ALSO BE EFFECTIVE?
Trekker: I don’t think that’s a case we could win; he’s like a piece of prime rib.
DB: BUT HE’S NOT ACTUALLY PRIME RIB, RIGHT?
LD: So I just pop him in the junk. That seems simple enough.
Trekker: I’m not saying that it’s enou…
*For a moment all of the noise of this discussion fades as we look over to Big Bone, who is trying to ignore that the rest of the team is planning to cheat. He covers his face. The sound slowly returns.*
Trekker: Anyway, just in case you needed it, I went ahead and through the power of AI have been able to make a fairly accurate diagram of where you need to hit him.
*She presses another button but the camera switches to an angle that ensures we do not see what’s on the screen. Everyone is immediately taken aback.*
LD: GAH! TURN IT OFF!
BB: Tan grande…
DB: I AM NOT FAMILIAR WITH THIS CUT OF BEEF.
Trekker: He could you guys calm down; I worked really hard on this presentation!
BB: That’s not the only thing that’s hard.
*Dominicus is trying to shield his eyes.*
Trekker: Do you have any idea how hard it was to get an AI to make this!? They kept trying to put boobs on him! I had to Google all night to find one that’d make an anatomically correct model! And then to make sure it had the proper size and turgidity…
*Big Bone picks up her phone and turns on the translator.*
BB: Could you repeat that last part?
Trekker: What, turgidity?
Phone: Turgencia.
*BB nods, realizing he should have expected that.*
LD: THAT’S IT, MEETING OVER!
DB: THERE WAS MEAT THAT WAS GOING TO BE SERVED?
Trekker: BUT WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT BEEF AND STUDY THIS MODEL CLOSELY!
*The room descends into yelling as the scene fades out…*
*…and fades back in to Lord Dominicus, specifically his masked face as seen from a pawn’s-eye-view. His head is down on a table looking across a chess board. He raises it and turns his attention to the camera.*
LD: You might not recognize this, BEEF, but when you’re under 220lbs like me wrestling isn’t about power or strength, it’s a game of chess. It’s about learning how to out-think your opponent in order to overcome them. And that, my large and aptly named friend, is where I excel.
*He flicks one of the chess pieces off of the board.*
LD: Take my recent time in CAR, for example. You might say, “Lord Dominicus, you didn’t win the Sippy Cup.” That’s correct, but you’re only looking at the surface level of things. Because when you start to pay attention you’ll notice a few things.
*Another piece gets flicked off.*
LD: Despite having what appears to be a losing record I’m easily one of CAR’s most decorated stars. Sure, the Esoteric Order of Driving has more, but they were there from the start when it was basically just them and the Angry Mad Chemists. But me? Four Fan Belts…
*Flick.*
LD: …3 Athletic Cups…
*Flick.*
LD: …Half of a Silicone Cup…
*Flick.*
LD: …and my own Sippy Cup already. Did you know I haven’t ever won a qualifying race for the Sippy Cup and yet won it once and came in second this last time? I don’t even feel bad about this last month because I’m pretty sure CopyWhatever’s team cheated. I don’t think that car has an engine, so there’s no way he could have won fairly. I respect that.
*He shakes off the brief moment of respect.*
LD: But the point is, despite Reedy Creek- Marty’s stupid Mickey Mouse Club- being very winning in their ways, they’ve not even scratched the surface of important wins in CAR. All of that keeps falling on Bad to the Bone racing, headed up by me. But perhaps you’re not keeping up with all of this complicated talk so let me make it more simple…
*Dominicus starts to throw the different pieces off of the chess board one-by-one until only the king is left.*
LD: Last month’s race should have been to decide who would represent the company at Overheated, I mean it was a big race that we had to qualify for in the first place and it was the very month needed for the feds to report who would be their representative. And yet it’s me facing you. Why? Because I out-thought Grandma Mary and put her in a position where she had to send me.
*He knocks over the king.*
LD: Months of work and here I am on my way to Night of Champions…once I get past you, Chuck Eye. People like me don’t need to spend every hour at the gym. No, I’m getting enough of a workout right here…
*The DARK LORD OF THE XHF points to his head.*
LD: That’s where my brain is, around where your head cheese is located. But if I do walk out of Overheated with the Night of Champions slot that Jack Diamond so foolishly entrusted to you, don’t feel bad. You wouldn’t be the first one to underestimate me.
*Dominicus leans against the table and holds up a finger.*
LD: First XHF Junior Heavyweight Champion of the Network Era.
*Another finger goes up.*
LD: First and ONLY EWF Superior Champion during their relaunch on the Network.
*Another finger goes up, soon followed by several others.*
LD: NPW’s North American Cruiserweight and Double Crown Champion, also known as the ONLY Triple Crown Champion and at a time their ONLY singles champion.
*Yet another finger, probably his thumb at this point…and his entire other hand.*
LD: Oh and enough titles in CAR to make a sexy alien costume for the Interloper.
“I ALREADY TOLD YOU I’M NOT WEARING THAT!”
LD: See, NEW YORK STRIP CUT, where I go I adapt how I need to in order to excel. I can change, I can mold myself into what I need to be and achieve that which I want. You’re just a slab of Chuck Roast- which I’m sure works fine for you and will serve you well in DTF. But this isn’t the local level, T-BONE, this is the XHF Network Global division. This is somewhere I know already, this is somewhere I thrive, and this is where I excel.
*He does an arm curl to reveal his not-super-toned biceps.*
LD: I’m not a big piece of man-meat, but I’m big where it counts. My head.
*Again he points to his brain, oblivious to the other implication he just made.*
LD: And that’s where my muscles are. So come Overheated we’ll see who can overcome- a man who’s known for being an ox of a man, or the GREATEST MASTERMIND in the entire Network.
*He lowers his head back down to the table, looking at the overturned king.*
LD: I’ll be seeing you soon, big guy.
*A DominiHand flicks the king into the camera as the feed cuts abruptly.*
