Post by Mongo the Destroyer on May 21, 2018 23:50:08 GMT -5
*The camera slowly fades in on a sensually smiling Randy Angel. He’s in a reclined position and the camera is pretty well zoomed in on his bust as he leans on his hand. The room is darkness but whatever he’s leaning on has just a liiiiiittle bit of that 80’s glossy sheen on it. There’s also a warm fuzziness to the camera quality.*
Randy: Hello women of the UK.
*He smiles softly raising an eyebrow ever so scintillatingly.*
Randy: It looks like you gals are about to get a whole lot more of me- and I didn’t even have to pay you. Yes, take it all in ladies, because we’ve got a date.
*Quickly he shifts positions. Now he’s on his stomach, head resting on two hands looking straight at the camera.*
Randy: But how, lovely ladies, did you manage to be so lucky? You can thank the AWF management for that. You see, they realized that I, one half of the PPW Hardcore Tag-Team Champions, am a hooooot commodity and they desperately needed me on their team at Xtraction: Love Money.
*The older Angel brother puts one hand down. Then, coyly, he brings a curious finger to his mouth as he ponders…*
Randy: But just how did I, the subject of all your dreams and the most real man to grace the United Kingdoms, come to be on team AWF- even though I’m not actually a member of their roster currently? Well that’s a story that’s best told through a flashback sequence.
*The screen gets all wavy as we move back to….*
Randy: ….
*He swats at the air lazily. The phone rings again.*
Randy: …Happy? …Nelly? …Lassie?
*The phone continues to ring as Randy grumbles and rolls onto the floor, waking himself up. Under his head was the PPW Hardcore Tag-Team Championship belt, now proudly displayed on a pillow. Groggily the inebriated Angel picks up the phone.*
Randy: I don’t care what you’re selling, you wo-
*We clearly hear the other person because we need to for storyline reasons.*
Person: Hello? Is Mr. Angel available?
*Randy pauses, raises a proud eyebrow as he straightens his suit and mutters “Mr. Angel” to himself. The bottle of booze swings with the movements of his arms.*
Randy: Mr. Angel is…speaking.
Person: Oh thank goodness. We’ve been having trouble getting a hold of you. We were wondering if you’d be available to come to England for Xtraction: Blood Money. We need another man on the team and you’re a great representative of the AWF spirit.
Randy: Why thank you! I would be glad to help out good ‘ole AWF when they’re in need. I don’t know why you wouldn’t call my brother to help though.
Person: That drunk? I don’t think he even works with us any more.
Randy: Hey! That’s my brother!
Person: Sorry, anyway, you’ll be there?
Randy: Do glass bottles really make for bad beds?
Person: Yes?
Randy: You better believe it, see you there.
Person: I won’t be there; I’m just making the calls.
Randy: Whatever.
*He hangs up. And struts back towards the couch.*
Randy: Oh-ho-ho, Mr. Randy Angel is going to merry old England to help the AWF get Love Money, how…..sexy.
*He slowly picks up the PPW title from the couch.*
Randy: It looks like we’re going on a road trip.
*The picture goes wavy again as we come back to the dreamboat that is….Randy Angel. Now he’s laying on his back, his head slightly off of whatever surface he’s laying on as he looks dreamily into the camera.*
Randy: But our story doesn’t end there. Oh no, your luscious new friend also was on that AXW show this week. You remember that, right? But what you didn’t see was when I got backstage…
*Some more flashback waves and we see Terry Bradshaw trying to get people into their places. He’s barking out orders and chewing on beef jerky and stomping on a clock for some reason. He spots Randy stumbling around.*
Bradshaw: RANDY! There you are! Where’s Nelly?
Randy: He’s at home, I’m the one you guys wanted.
Bradshaw: …..SURE! Sure…..
Randy: Plus I figured you called me specifically because of my close and personal friendship with Michael Storm.
Bradshaw: …..
*Just go with it, Terry*
Bradshaw: Yes! That’s exactly why! You see, he’s on the team too and needs sufficient back-up.
Randy: Oh you better believe I’ll give it to him. I’ll guard him like I guard my whiskey.
Bradshaw: That’s the spirit. You’re way better than your brother anyway.
Randy: Whoa, he is my brother
Bradshaw: Ok, ok, at least he’s better than AJ Phoenix I suppose.
Randy: AJ Phoenix sucks all the time.
Bradshaw: Right? Oh man we have so much in common.
*The keep chatting and twirling their hair and talking about things that would only make sense to the super drunk or terribly insane as we fade back to…*
*Hot hot Randy Angel. Now in his dark room he’s sitting daintily as he looks demurely at the camera.*
Randy: And that’s how you ladies came to be graced by me. Now, I know you’ve heard a lot of things about me- that I can drink any man under the table, that I have a six pack both in hand and on my body, and that nobody loves quite like I do or as quickly. All of these are true.
*He winks at the camera.*
Randy: But more importantly, at Xtraction: Loooove Money, I’m gonna show you gals a real taste of the American wrestling scene. It’s gonna be hot, heavy, and probably involve a lot of grapples. But don’t be scared- no no, big daddy Randy Angel will be here to hold you after. Because I’m gonna go in there and show just how big and strong these American arms are as we take on….
*Randy looks to be scanning something off-camera*
Randy: ….FORMER X*CROWN CHAMPION AND CURRENT PRESIDENT KANYON!? Wait, am I on the UK team or the America one? I’m really confused now.
*He scratches his head.*
Randy: And um…star-paint man? Cool. Um…why is this graphic cracked? Uh….masked man…..Price……other guy?
*Breaking character, Randy puts his hands on his hips.*
Randy: Wait, hold on. I feel like team AXW is basically just as American as team AWF. So I’m not being some sort of sexual ambassador to the local women? Then why did they call me? I feel like this is more of Nelly’s wheelhouse.
*He ponders, but then shakes it off.*
Randy: Whatever, you know what, screw it. I’m here; I was invited to come specifically. So here I am, Mr. Angel, ready to defend my brother’s employer against its rival. I can do that. You see AXW, I’m Randy Angel. I’m the PPW Hardcore Tag Team Champion. I’m one of the hottest properties in the XHF Network. And, I’m a darn sight better looking than anyone on your team.
*Randy reaches off camera and pulls up a bottle of unknown liquid. He begins to unscrew its cap.*
Randy: So ladies…since there’s nothing interesting over on team AXW, then I guess, if I can manage, I’ll just have to party with you all..
*He takes a drink and winks as he “cheers” the camera.*
Randy: See you soon, British girls.
*Randy makes a kissy face at the camera as it fades out.*
Randy: Hello women of the UK.
*He smiles softly raising an eyebrow ever so scintillatingly.*
Randy: It looks like you gals are about to get a whole lot more of me- and I didn’t even have to pay you. Yes, take it all in ladies, because we’ve got a date.
*Quickly he shifts positions. Now he’s on his stomach, head resting on two hands looking straight at the camera.*
Randy: But how, lovely ladies, did you manage to be so lucky? You can thank the AWF management for that. You see, they realized that I, one half of the PPW Hardcore Tag-Team Champions, am a hooooot commodity and they desperately needed me on their team at Xtraction: Love Money.
*The older Angel brother puts one hand down. Then, coyly, he brings a curious finger to his mouth as he ponders…*
Randy: But just how did I, the subject of all your dreams and the most real man to grace the United Kingdoms, come to be on team AWF- even though I’m not actually a member of their roster currently? Well that’s a story that’s best told through a flashback sequence.
*The screen gets all wavy as we move back to….*
Several Days Ago
*We reopen on Nelly Angel’s apartment, where Randy and a clown also live. Randy is passed out on the couch in the living room/common area. One shoe on, one foot not even clothed with a sock. His tie tied around his wrist, and also tied to a bottle of whiskey; both of which are hanging off the couch and onto the floor. He’s out. Suddenly the phone rings.*
Randy: ….
*He swats at the air lazily. The phone rings again.*
Randy: …Happy? …Nelly? …Lassie?
*The phone continues to ring as Randy grumbles and rolls onto the floor, waking himself up. Under his head was the PPW Hardcore Tag-Team Championship belt, now proudly displayed on a pillow. Groggily the inebriated Angel picks up the phone.*
Randy: I don’t care what you’re selling, you wo-
*We clearly hear the other person because we need to for storyline reasons.*
Person: Hello? Is Mr. Angel available?
*Randy pauses, raises a proud eyebrow as he straightens his suit and mutters “Mr. Angel” to himself. The bottle of booze swings with the movements of his arms.*
Randy: Mr. Angel is…speaking.
Person: Oh thank goodness. We’ve been having trouble getting a hold of you. We were wondering if you’d be available to come to England for Xtraction: Blood Money. We need another man on the team and you’re a great representative of the AWF spirit.
Randy: Why thank you! I would be glad to help out good ‘ole AWF when they’re in need. I don’t know why you wouldn’t call my brother to help though.
Person: That drunk? I don’t think he even works with us any more.
Randy: Hey! That’s my brother!
Person: Sorry, anyway, you’ll be there?
Randy: Do glass bottles really make for bad beds?
Person: Yes?
Randy: You better believe it, see you there.
Person: I won’t be there; I’m just making the calls.
Randy: Whatever.
*He hangs up. And struts back towards the couch.*
Randy: Oh-ho-ho, Mr. Randy Angel is going to merry old England to help the AWF get Love Money, how…..sexy.
*He slowly picks up the PPW title from the couch.*
Randy: It looks like we’re going on a road trip.
*The picture goes wavy again as we come back to the dreamboat that is….Randy Angel. Now he’s laying on his back, his head slightly off of whatever surface he’s laying on as he looks dreamily into the camera.*
Randy: But our story doesn’t end there. Oh no, your luscious new friend also was on that AXW show this week. You remember that, right? But what you didn’t see was when I got backstage…
*Some more flashback waves and we see Terry Bradshaw trying to get people into their places. He’s barking out orders and chewing on beef jerky and stomping on a clock for some reason. He spots Randy stumbling around.*
Bradshaw: RANDY! There you are! Where’s Nelly?
Randy: He’s at home, I’m the one you guys wanted.
Bradshaw: …..SURE! Sure…..
Randy: Plus I figured you called me specifically because of my close and personal friendship with Michael Storm.
Bradshaw: …..
*Just go with it, Terry*
Bradshaw: Yes! That’s exactly why! You see, he’s on the team too and needs sufficient back-up.
Randy: Oh you better believe I’ll give it to him. I’ll guard him like I guard my whiskey.
Bradshaw: That’s the spirit. You’re way better than your brother anyway.
Randy: Whoa, he is my brother
Bradshaw: Ok, ok, at least he’s better than AJ Phoenix I suppose.
Randy: AJ Phoenix sucks all the time.
Bradshaw: Right? Oh man we have so much in common.
*The keep chatting and twirling their hair and talking about things that would only make sense to the super drunk or terribly insane as we fade back to…*
*Hot hot Randy Angel. Now in his dark room he’s sitting daintily as he looks demurely at the camera.*
Randy: And that’s how you ladies came to be graced by me. Now, I know you’ve heard a lot of things about me- that I can drink any man under the table, that I have a six pack both in hand and on my body, and that nobody loves quite like I do or as quickly. All of these are true.
*He winks at the camera.*
Randy: But more importantly, at Xtraction: Loooove Money, I’m gonna show you gals a real taste of the American wrestling scene. It’s gonna be hot, heavy, and probably involve a lot of grapples. But don’t be scared- no no, big daddy Randy Angel will be here to hold you after. Because I’m gonna go in there and show just how big and strong these American arms are as we take on….
*Randy looks to be scanning something off-camera*
Randy: ….FORMER X*CROWN CHAMPION AND CURRENT PRESIDENT KANYON!? Wait, am I on the UK team or the America one? I’m really confused now.
*He scratches his head.*
Randy: And um…star-paint man? Cool. Um…why is this graphic cracked? Uh….masked man…..Price……other guy?
*Breaking character, Randy puts his hands on his hips.*
Randy: Wait, hold on. I feel like team AXW is basically just as American as team AWF. So I’m not being some sort of sexual ambassador to the local women? Then why did they call me? I feel like this is more of Nelly’s wheelhouse.
*He ponders, but then shakes it off.*
Randy: Whatever, you know what, screw it. I’m here; I was invited to come specifically. So here I am, Mr. Angel, ready to defend my brother’s employer against its rival. I can do that. You see AXW, I’m Randy Angel. I’m the PPW Hardcore Tag Team Champion. I’m one of the hottest properties in the XHF Network. And, I’m a darn sight better looking than anyone on your team.
*Randy reaches off camera and pulls up a bottle of unknown liquid. He begins to unscrew its cap.*
Randy: So ladies…since there’s nothing interesting over on team AXW, then I guess, if I can manage, I’ll just have to party with you all..
*He takes a drink and winks as he “cheers” the camera.*
Randy: See you soon, British girls.
*Randy makes a kissy face at the camera as it fades out.*
