[STEELE] The Doctor Is In (EoD vs Storm)
Oct 7, 2017 14:29:57 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Rage (aka NoMercyMaster2001), and 3 more like this
Post by Steele on Oct 7, 2017 14:29:57 GMT -5
*Fade in from black to show a hastily-erected partition wall. Remember those APA segments from the early 2000's where Faarooq and Bradshaw had their "office" set up backstage? Well this looks something like that, except with a little extra wall surrounding the door.*
*As the camera approaches the door, we notice a nameplate on the wall next to it.*
*The camera pans past the wall and into a mockup of a "Doctor's office" and we see Jackson Steele sat at the desk, pretending to write.*
Steele: Uh... door, please.
*It definitely looks like Jackson was inspired by those old APA skits. The camera quickly backs up and goes back to the door, the cameraman knocking on it and causing the flimsy wall to wobble like in a 1970's sitcom.*
Steele: Come.
*Wait, is this a skit or one of Jackson's movies? The cameraman decides to risk it anyway and opens the door. Phew, it's still a skit, as Jackson goes back to scribbling doctor-scrawl on a pad.*
Steele: Oh, hello. You just caught me going over some patient notes.
*We notice that there is a second wall to the set, behind Jackson's desk. A large human anatomy poster - an actual medical one, nothing dirty - hangs next to several fake doctorates from such esteemed universities as "The School of Hard Knocks" and "The University of Life". Jackson stands up, and we see that he is dressed in a white doctor's coat, a stethoscope is slung around his neck and the AWF Heavyweight Championship is... wait, it's not around his waist. Hang on - it's on his head! A miniature version of the center plate is strapped to his head as one of those mirrors doctors used to wear on their heads.*
Steele: Now let's see... let's see...
*Jackson leafs through a pad that is clearly blank on all of its pages.*
Steele: Aha! Here it is. Storm, Michael. Hmmm...
*Jackson rubs his chin as he peruses the blank page.*
Steele: Oh dear... Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. It's not looking good. Now you have to understand that doctor-patient confidentiality is a serious matter and something that I strive to uphold... buuuuuuuut... progressing in the End of Days Tournament is a lot more important to me so sorry, Mikey!
*He pulls his reading glasses out of his jacket and puts them on as he starts to read aloud... sorry, I mean "read" aloud from the notes.*
Steele: Now let me see, wow, where do I begin? It says here that Michael was brought to me with chronic back pain, severe head and neck injuries, excruciating spinal trauma, a ruptured perineum, achey-breaky heart, several dislocated joints and a bad case of kicked-in-the-balls-itis! ... Michael Storm was admitted into my care on...
*He flips over a page*
Steele: Oh! Well, would you look at that! This medical form is post-dated! See it actually says Michael Storm suffered these horrific, horrific injuries on October Fifteenth! Why, that's - yes, that's the date of our upcoming match in the End of Days Tournament! What a bizarre coincidence!
*He tosses the pad over his shoulder and looks deep into the camera.*
Steele: Now Michael, first off I gotta say that-
eXXXstacy: JACKSON!
*Steele's head whips round as eXXXstacy crashes his super-awesome promo.*
Steele: Hey! I'm trying to cut a super-awesome promo! Can you at least use the door? There's an implied wall there that you just metaphorically walked through! And you LITERALLY just broke the fourth wall! ...
Well, maybe the third.
*eXXXstacy isn't even listening.*
eXXXstacy: You are not gonna BELIEVE what Storm's manager just did to me.
Steele: I mean, I spent ages setting all this up! I had a nameplate ordered and everything. Sure they spelled my name wrong and I had to correct it with a sharpie but...
eXXXstacy: MICHAEL CLARKE DUNCAN TOOK ME TO STORM'S HOUSE FOR SEX.
*Jackson clutches his chest and staggers back, almost tripping over his desk.*
Steele: But... but... he's not part of the Union! Tell me you didn't sleep with a NON-MEMBER!?!?!?
*eXXXstacy rolls her eyes.*
eXXXstacy: No Jackson, I didn't. Duncan tricked me into going to Storm's house under the pretense of just hanging out. But when I got there, he turned... really creepy.
Steele: What? Was... was Storm there?
eXXXstacy: Thankfully, Storm has his head screwed on and he ripped into Duncan.
Steele: Hmm. Well, this requires a change of scenery.
*Jackson tears the human anatomy poster off the wall and replaces it with one showing the inner workings of the humble canine.*
Steele: I'm no one-trick pony! Not only am I a world-renowned physician but I also graduated Cum Laude from veterinary college!
Now Michael Storm I was going to tell you earlier that I respect you and everything you've done in this business... just like Curtis before you I'm not going to be underestimating a veteran such as yourself. But just like Curtis before you, I'm going to show the world why I am the AWF Heavyweight Champion!
But the game just changed. Before, this was purely business. But now your dog, MCD, he's made it personal.
*Jackson paces the room as he outlines his plan.*
Steele: See when Michael Clarke Duncan tried to sleep with eXXXstacy without being a member of the Union, he crossed a line... no, he crossed a trip wire and I am the bomb that is going to explode, and I'm going to explode on YOU, Storm! When somebody tries to sleep with my girlfriend - MY GIRLFRIEND - without even the courtesy of going through the proper checks and balances then I take it as a slap in the face!
It's pissed me off, Storm! It's pissed me off, and it's YOUR problem because he's YOUR dog! You can't control him, and if you can't control him then I'M going to take matters into my own hands! You better keep your dog on a leash heading into our match because he stands to lose a lot more than his nuts if he tries to pull that shit again!
As for you Storm... well I've got just the medicine you need right... here...
*He points downwards to... wait, not that? surely? The camera pans down, and thankfully keeps going until it reaches his boot. It pans back up, and he is holding syringe with a huge, nasty-looking needle on the end. He gives the needle a flick.*
Steele: Whether my patients are dogs, humans, whatever - the fact of the matter is that they're all sick until I make 'em better... and Storm, come the fifteenth, I'm gonna have just the shot you need to make you better... are you ready for the Pop Shot?
Oh and Michael, remember - I try my best to make sick people and animals better, but if your dog can't be retrained or cured, then... well... I'm afraid I'm going to have to put. Him. Down.
*Fade to black*
*As the camera approaches the door, we notice a nameplate on the wall next to it.*
*The camera pans past the wall and into a mockup of a "Doctor's office" and we see Jackson Steele sat at the desk, pretending to write.*
Steele: Uh... door, please.
*It definitely looks like Jackson was inspired by those old APA skits. The camera quickly backs up and goes back to the door, the cameraman knocking on it and causing the flimsy wall to wobble like in a 1970's sitcom.*
Steele: Come.
*Wait, is this a skit or one of Jackson's movies? The cameraman decides to risk it anyway and opens the door. Phew, it's still a skit, as Jackson goes back to scribbling doctor-scrawl on a pad.*
Steele: Oh, hello. You just caught me going over some patient notes.
*We notice that there is a second wall to the set, behind Jackson's desk. A large human anatomy poster - an actual medical one, nothing dirty - hangs next to several fake doctorates from such esteemed universities as "The School of Hard Knocks" and "The University of Life". Jackson stands up, and we see that he is dressed in a white doctor's coat, a stethoscope is slung around his neck and the AWF Heavyweight Championship is... wait, it's not around his waist. Hang on - it's on his head! A miniature version of the center plate is strapped to his head as one of those mirrors doctors used to wear on their heads.*
Steele: Now let's see... let's see...
*Jackson leafs through a pad that is clearly blank on all of its pages.*
Steele: Aha! Here it is. Storm, Michael. Hmmm...
*Jackson rubs his chin as he peruses the blank page.*
Steele: Oh dear... Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. It's not looking good. Now you have to understand that doctor-patient confidentiality is a serious matter and something that I strive to uphold... buuuuuuuut... progressing in the End of Days Tournament is a lot more important to me so sorry, Mikey!
*He pulls his reading glasses out of his jacket and puts them on as he starts to read aloud... sorry, I mean "read" aloud from the notes.*
Steele: Now let me see, wow, where do I begin? It says here that Michael was brought to me with chronic back pain, severe head and neck injuries, excruciating spinal trauma, a ruptured perineum, achey-breaky heart, several dislocated joints and a bad case of kicked-in-the-balls-itis! ... Michael Storm was admitted into my care on...
*He flips over a page*
Steele: Oh! Well, would you look at that! This medical form is post-dated! See it actually says Michael Storm suffered these horrific, horrific injuries on October Fifteenth! Why, that's - yes, that's the date of our upcoming match in the End of Days Tournament! What a bizarre coincidence!
*He tosses the pad over his shoulder and looks deep into the camera.*
Steele: Now Michael, first off I gotta say that-
eXXXstacy: JACKSON!
*Steele's head whips round as eXXXstacy crashes his super-awesome promo.*
Steele: Hey! I'm trying to cut a super-awesome promo! Can you at least use the door? There's an implied wall there that you just metaphorically walked through! And you LITERALLY just broke the fourth wall! ...
Well, maybe the third.
*eXXXstacy isn't even listening.*
eXXXstacy: You are not gonna BELIEVE what Storm's manager just did to me.
Steele: I mean, I spent ages setting all this up! I had a nameplate ordered and everything. Sure they spelled my name wrong and I had to correct it with a sharpie but...
eXXXstacy: MICHAEL CLARKE DUNCAN TOOK ME TO STORM'S HOUSE FOR SEX.
*Jackson clutches his chest and staggers back, almost tripping over his desk.*
Steele: But... but... he's not part of the Union! Tell me you didn't sleep with a NON-MEMBER!?!?!?
*eXXXstacy rolls her eyes.*
eXXXstacy: No Jackson, I didn't. Duncan tricked me into going to Storm's house under the pretense of just hanging out. But when I got there, he turned... really creepy.
Steele: What? Was... was Storm there?
eXXXstacy: Thankfully, Storm has his head screwed on and he ripped into Duncan.
Steele: Hmm. Well, this requires a change of scenery.
*Jackson tears the human anatomy poster off the wall and replaces it with one showing the inner workings of the humble canine.*
Steele: I'm no one-trick pony! Not only am I a world-renowned physician but I also graduated Cum Laude from veterinary college!
Now Michael Storm I was going to tell you earlier that I respect you and everything you've done in this business... just like Curtis before you I'm not going to be underestimating a veteran such as yourself. But just like Curtis before you, I'm going to show the world why I am the AWF Heavyweight Champion!
But the game just changed. Before, this was purely business. But now your dog, MCD, he's made it personal.
*Jackson paces the room as he outlines his plan.*
Steele: See when Michael Clarke Duncan tried to sleep with eXXXstacy without being a member of the Union, he crossed a line... no, he crossed a trip wire and I am the bomb that is going to explode, and I'm going to explode on YOU, Storm! When somebody tries to sleep with my girlfriend - MY GIRLFRIEND - without even the courtesy of going through the proper checks and balances then I take it as a slap in the face!
It's pissed me off, Storm! It's pissed me off, and it's YOUR problem because he's YOUR dog! You can't control him, and if you can't control him then I'M going to take matters into my own hands! You better keep your dog on a leash heading into our match because he stands to lose a lot more than his nuts if he tries to pull that shit again!
As for you Storm... well I've got just the medicine you need right... here...
*He points downwards to... wait, not that? surely? The camera pans down, and thankfully keeps going until it reaches his boot. It pans back up, and he is holding syringe with a huge, nasty-looking needle on the end. He gives the needle a flick.*
Steele: Whether my patients are dogs, humans, whatever - the fact of the matter is that they're all sick until I make 'em better... and Storm, come the fifteenth, I'm gonna have just the shot you need to make you better... are you ready for the Pop Shot?
Oh and Michael, remember - I try my best to make sick people and animals better, but if your dog can't be retrained or cured, then... well... I'm afraid I'm going to have to put. Him. Down.
*Fade to black*