Snap! (A Viper Production)
Sept 28, 2018 21:07:32 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, ForeverKuroi, and 1 more like this
Post by Dylan on Sept 28, 2018 21:07:32 GMT -5
Maybe Mama Gail's basement's basement, night I guess? Maybe mid-afternoon? I don't fucking know.
Inside the ever-classy shipping container we always see Dylan
Dylan Viper: Boston. Newark. Connection. Heh heh. You know, I know a guy from Boston. A shining star. Boston's greatest export. Heaven's Bounty Hunter. The 290 minute man. Your's truly, Dylan.. Vipah!
Dylan laughs, and licks his lips.
Dylan Viper: Soul, you're a young Bostonian yourself. So I know what to expect from you. You've got that young, gritty, Bostonian attitude I grew up with. You're agile, you've got stamina like none other.
Dylan crotches down, his knees cracking as he he chuckles.
Dylan Viper: You've got all this running for you kid, but you're young. You're inexperienced. You're a cocky, overconfident cat. You love to brag about being a second generation wrestler, but in reality. Your weaknesses are what'll kill you. You set yourself at such a high standard because you just want daddy to be proud. Heh, it's kind of sad though. Someone so desperate to make his father smile down.
Dylan taps the side of his temple, a slight smirk at the edges of his lips. His tone turns a bit cocky, his voice more gravelly then normal.
Dylan Viper: But I see the self doubt in your eyes. What if Papa Soul is sitting front row, watching his sport fail? Getting punk'd by a man much older, wiser, simply better.
Dylan chuckles again, and licks his lips.
Dylan Viper: And then there's Marcus. Another second gen star. Newark New Jersey was a city I'd always avoided, mainly because of how much of a shit hole the US is outside of Boston. You're a tough son of a gun, I'll give you that, but you're just as much a young bull as your buddy Soul. You think you're sucha good striker, it shrouds what little talent you may actually have with arrogance. Temper temper, my friend. Being an angry child will cost you.
Dylan smacks the back of his wrist, as if to show himself disciplining an angry child who'd been naughty.
Dylan Viper: BNC, Bitchass Ni... N... Nova Cunts! Yeah, you think I'd drop the N-word? What, do I look like a child crying for graphics he'll never receive! Anyway, the real thorn in your teams side is you're both young, hungry, inexperienced fools. I'm a tactical man, I can pinpoint your flaws, your weaknesses, and use those to an advantage.
Dylan ponders ways to use BNC's weaknesses to his advantage, then smiles.
Dylan Viper: I know! I'll just make Jeffrey piss off Marcus until he blows a gasket and DQ's himself. Or maybe I'll let Soul beat on me until he decides he can pull some high risk, and then goad him into pulling some risky stunt that screws him over in the end game. And just like Thanos tried to help the universe...
Dylan, now wearing an infinity gauntlet on his hand, snaps his fingers. He slowly begins to dematerialize, smirking all the while.
Dylan Viper: ...I'll help the Boston-Newark Connection get one step closer to the XHF Tag Team Championships. By erasing their every hope of victory.
Dylan fully dematerializes. The camera fades to black from the shipping container, and then cuts back to another shot of Dylan, staring at a camera. He reaches out, and pushes a button on it. It stops the recording we just finished, and he stands up, grabbing and pocketing the camera in his jacket. From out of nowhere...
Jeffrey Viper: HEY BITCHTITS!
Dylan jumps, as an unwelcome guest has entered his sacred place of roleplaying. He sees Jeffrey, and scowls as he growls out a responce.
Dylan Viper: What in the FUCK are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be fucking a lightbulb maker or something?
Jeffrey laughs, and flexes.
Jeffrey Viper: So Dylan, I know you're pissed. But you're my partner in crime, although I'm really the only one breaking laws between us. But that's neither here nor there, but I'm a nice guy. I'll cut you 10% of all the money I make. Pretty sweet deal. Huh, son?
Dylan looks quizzingly at his father, who elbows his arm and winks, before sighing.
Dylan Viper: Really? We're gonna have a fight about this again? What you did was WRONG! Would you like it if I recorded you fucking that watermelon and then feeding it to homeless children, and then posted it on the internet?
Jeffrey Viper: FUCK YEAH! Internet gold, sport! Now you're getting it! That's worth a million or two views there! We can call it, "Social Experiment: Helping the Homeless!" Yeah!
Dylan groans as he hangs his head in his hands.
Dylan Viper: You're a brainless fucking buffoon.
The ramblings of Jeffrey and complaints of Dylan both grow indistinct as the scene fades to black, for real this time.
FADE TO BLACK
