| El_Pablo | Date: Friday, 2011/07/01, 10:30 PM | Message # 1 |
 Jobber
Group: TDS member/moderator
Messages: 22
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| The scene opens inside what appears to be a small, simple television studio. Much of the floor and wall-space in front of us has been decked out in bright green - obviously allowing the opportunity for various digital effects to be added to whatever live action is filmed here in post-production - and even more of that same space has been covered in various pieces of audio-visual equipment; cameras, cables, microphones, cables, lighting rigs, cables.. you know the drill. Also, cables.
The angle from which we are currently viewing the room - along with the somewhat low-definition, “civilian” quality of the picture - suggests that the images we are seeing are perhaps not intended to be part of any “official” broadcast or production; rather, it suggests we are being treated to some sort of fly-on-the-wall, behind-the-scenes action; an EWA.com Exclusive, if you will.
In the centre of our shot, stood at the foremost end of the green area, is a man, dressed in a grey suit with a black shirt and a bright red tie. He does not perhaps strike those fans familiar only with Empire Wrestling Association as anyone especially familiar; However, fans of the late Combat Zone Wrestling promotion will recognize him as the company’s Promotion Manager - and long-time friend/associate of “The Five Star Superstar” El Pablo - Adam ver Tising. Those same fans might also remember ver Tising’s brief spell as host of the company’s weekly “recap” webcast; and it appears that he is currently reprising this role within the Empire, such is the nature of his address to the “proper” cameras to our left once the prompt comes from the crew…
AD VER TISING: So, the stage is set; At Shatterpoint, it’ll be the new Number One Contender, Marcellus Payne and the Underground Champion, Chris Johnson competing in a tag-team match against the reuniting team of El Pablo and Crimzon Blaze! Both sides have, for the most part, had their say.. but, with nothing having been apparently seen or heard from him since immediately after his defeat to Black Jesus at Retaliation, the question on the lips of the ENTIRE pro-wrestling world is…
“..Where the HELL is El Pablo!?”
The scene fades to black…
----------*****----------
..and then almost immediately re-opens, bringing us face-to-(masked) face with the aforementioned Five Star Superstar himself. While the extreme zoom on the camera prohibits us from seeing much beyond his wrestling mask, we can at least see that - wherever he currently is, and whatever he is currently doing - he appears to be concentrating extremely hard, such is the rather pained, intense expression on his face.
EL PABLO: Hmmm…
Slowly, the camera begins to pull out, revealing a small series of playing cards, fanned open in EP’s hand. The Five Star Superstar continues to study his hand - well, not HIS hand, the hand inside his hand.. you know what I mean, stop being a dick! - for a few moments, before turning to his left.
EL PABLO: Do you have any.. threes?
The camera swings to the right slightly, bringing into view the head and upper torso of EP’s girlfriend and fellow EWA Superstar Cristal, her own collection of cards held purposefully in hand.
CRISTAL: Go fish. Carmen?
Cristal glances to her left, the camera following rapidly once again, to bring into view a person decidedly less familiar to the watching audience - at least within the context of a professional wrestling broadcast.
Long, dark brown hair flows down from beneath a red wide-brimmed hat, behind a pair of shoulders concealed beneath a matching red coat and a black turtleneck sweater. Her eyes are lined with a thin layer of black mascara, and her lips lined with a thick, red, glossy sheen that almost perfectly matches the rest of her attire.
Carmen turns to face Cristal, looking somewhat confused, before casting her eye onto her own hand of cards.
CARMEN: Erm.. no. No I don’t.
EL PABLO: Dammit! Amelia? How bout you, baby?
EP turns to his right this time, the camera following his gaze to bring into view another woman; this one dressed as an early 20th Century airplane pilot. Amelia casts an intense eye over her own deck, before shaking her head and turning to EP.
AMELIA: Nah.. Sorry.
EL PABLO: Fuck’s sake!
CARMEN: You know, I don’t think you’re supposed to go round the table like that…
EL PABLO: Oh… Really?
Carmen shrugs.
CARMEN: I dunno…
AMELIA: We probably should’ve figured out the rules to this game before starting, huh?
EL PABLO: Yeahhhhh…
CRISTAL: OOH!!
The other three jump in their respective seats, startled by Cristal’s sudden outburst. The camera pulls back - bringing the table around which the four of them are sat for the first time - as Cristal slams her cards down, then picks up a small metal top hat (which has been placed delicately atop a bright green piece from the board game “Sorry!”) and places it on the top of a haphazardly-balanced Jenga tower.
CRISTAL: CHECKMATE!
EP, Carmen and Amelia drop their own cards with their own respective verbalisations of disappointment, although frustration immediately gives way to congratulation, the three applauding Cristal as she takes a theatrical bow.
CRISTAL: Thankyou, thankyou!
Cristal returns to her seat, and receives a kiss on the lips from El Pablo, before a shout comes from off-screen, drawing the gamers’ attention. The voice delivering it sounds male in origin, although the pitch and somewhat squeaky tone suggests the person to whom the voice belongs has perhaps not made it all the way through puberty yet.
VOICE: Hey guys, come check this out!
The gamers turn toward the source of the voice, a noticeable scowl on the faces of Carmen and Amelia.
CARMEN: No-one cares, Waldo!
The camera swings round, as a skinny man dressed in a white and red bobble hat, thick-rimmed black glasses, a red and white-striped sweater and blue jeans jumps up to his feet from a plush black leather couch, a mixture of hurt and frustration etched upon his face.
WALDO: Dammit, you guys! I am just as big a part of HASSTA as you two!!!
EL PABLO: ..Hassta?
CRISTAL: Hide And Seek Society..
Carmen turns back to face EP and Cristal, and flashes a wink as she raises her thumb.
CRISTAL: ..They’re Awesome!
Attentions turn back to Waldo, who is now making his way angrily over to the table.
WALDO: For God’s sake, I’ve been hiding successfully for nearly 25 years!!!
EP’s eyes suddenly screw up, as he eyeballs the agitated Waldo.
EL PABLO: “Successfully?” Dude.. you’re the only guy I know who can get picked out of a crowd of 18,000 Ancient Egyptian baseball fans by a five-year-old!
WALDO: Oh, what, and no-one’s ever completed the Carmen Sandiego videogame!?
CARMEN: At least I educate people in the process! What the fuck do you teach kids.. the importance of camouflage?
Suddenly, a door opens from behind EP, the argument pausing abruptly as a pale, gaunt man with thick, unkempt black hair peers out into the room, an electric guitar hanging down in front of his exposed chest. When he speaks, his voice is incredibly faint, as if the mere uttering of a syllable causes him intense pain.
GUITARIST: Guys.. can you please cool it with the Symphony of Tourette out here? Where does it get us? From Despair to Where? Pretension/Repulsion.. All Is Vanity… plus, some of us are trying to sleep.
CARMEN: Sorry, Richey.
WALDO: Yeah.. my bad, man.
RICHEY: Stay Beautiful…
Richey leans back into the room, Doors Closing Slowly behind him. Waldo and Carmen turn to face each other again, and sigh.
WALDO: Drug, Drug, Druggy…
CARMEN: Yes.. he sure is Methadone Pretty though.
EP leans in towards Cristal, and half-whispers into her ear.
EL PABLO: Do you think anyone watching will be getting these references?
CRISTAL: I doubt it.
EL PABLO: For shame!
Suddenly, the group are approached by yet another new figure; another male, this one dressed in attire reminiscent of 19th Century England. Carmen and Waldo retreat slightly as the man approaches, suggesting a slight sense of fear and intimidation toward him.
WALDO: H-hey Jack… W-what’s up, b-buddy?
Jack smiles, somewhat unnervingly, at Waldo, before slowly turning to face EP and Cristal.
JACK: I have news for our esteemed guests.. news regarding a bout scheduled to take place in seven days at the EWA Colosseum in New York City!
EL PABLO: A bout, you say?
JACK: Indeed!
EL PABLO: And what kind of bout may it be that you speak of, good sir?
JACK: Oh, a bout for the ages, my friend! A bout so steeped in history, emotion and sheer physical hatred, that the very fires of hell would pale in the face of the violence and ferocity sure to be unleashed therein!
EP claps giddily, a big smile spreading across his face.
EL PABLO: Oooooh, I LOVE those! Who’ve I got?
JACK: Verily.. ‘tis the Dark Lord of the Blasphemer himself, Marcellus Payne.. alongside the man most legendary inside his own imagination, Chris Johnson.. taking on two people whose reunion has been longer and more eagerly-awaited than Ian Brown and John Squire…
CRISTAL: ..Who?
EL PABLO: Stone Roses.. MASSIVE in England back in the ‘90s.
JACK: ..“The Five Star Superstar” El Pablo.. “The Aerial Specialist” Crimzon Blaze…
EP gasps theatrically.
JACK: ..together, they shall light a quite literal fire under the Colosseum ring as the one and only.. EL FUEGO!!!
EL PABLO: HOT DIGGEDY DAWG!!!
EP leaps to his feet, arms raised aloft as if having some sort of spiritual experience. However, his face quickly contorts into confusion again, and he returns to his seat, his eyes squinting up at Jack.
EL PABLO: But, hold on a second… I mean, you seem incredibly excited to see me and KB..
CRISTAL: CB.
EL PABLO: ..teaming up again, and that’s awesome.. but.. well.. it’s just that Payne and Johnson seem like EXACTLY the kind of guys you should be cheering on.
A somewhat awkward silence descends on the group, as Jack shuffles a little awkwardly in his shoes.
JACK: Yes.. well…
EL PABLO: ..?
JACK: Well.. the way that Chris Johnson just hid behind a door and let his steroid monkey Jackson Cage pick you apart before taking your Underground Title for himself was just, like, totally lame, so fuck him.
EP pauses for a moment, perhaps caught a little off-guard by Jack’s sudden transformation into a Californian teenager. However, a smile soon spreads across his face, his eyes lighting up behind his mask.
EL PABLO: Awww, Jack! That’s so sweet! It almost makes me forget about all those prostitutes you raped, mutilated and brutally murdered!
Jack smirks bashfully, averting his gaze as he fans a hand in EP’s direction.
JACK: Shucks!
EP gets to his feet, offering Cristal a hand and helping her up just after.
EL PABLO: Well guys, I guess this means I have to take my leave!
CARMEN: Awwww, are you sure?
EL PABLO: Yeahhhhh.. sorry guys, it’s been great fun kicking it here, but my people need me back in New York!
AMELIA: Will you be back?
EL PABLO: Who knows, Amelia.. who knows?
CARMEN: Alright, well, you guys take care now!
Carmen shares a hug with both EP and Cristal.
EL PABLO: Thanks Carmen.
Amelia then gets to her feet and offers an embrace of her own, which El Cristo happily accept.
AMELIA: Go kick those asses’ asses!
CRISTAL: Oh we will, don’t you worry!
Waldo then opens his arms for a hug of his own.
WALDO: And good luck with the whole relationship thing!
EP & CRISTAL: Shut up, Waldo.
WALDO: GAHHHH!!!
The five people who aren’t a now-sulking Waldo share a laugh, before EP and Cristal turn and make their way towards a door situated at the far end of the treehouse (did I mention it was a treehouse? Well.. it’s a massive treehouse. Literally a house.. in a tree). As they approach, a little girl approaches, clutching two pairs of shades. EP and Cristal take a pair each, and place them over their eyes.
EL PABLO: Thanks Madeli-AHHHH!!!
EP recoils back in horror as the identity of the little girl sinks in, and the scene immediately cuts to black.
----------*****----------
The scene reopens, having now transported us apparently to the residential streets of New York City. The camera moves swiftly along the sidewalk past the terraced houses, until it approaches a small group of young adults, engaging in what appears to be some sort of unofficial break-dancing demonstration. Phat beats pump out from an awesomely-retro portable music system, as 5 or 6 stereotypical “street kids” gather around a small set of boards, upon which another person is currently spinning and twisting at incredibly high speed. After a few moments, this person springs back to his feet, drawing a huge ovation from his audience as the music stops. The person turns in the direction of the camera, revealing himself to be EWA Superstar Crimzon Blaze, decked out in all his bare-chested, do-raggy glory.
BLAZE: WHOOP WHOOP!
KIDS: WHOOP WHOOP!
BLAZE: WHOOP WHOOP!
KIDS: WHOOP WHOOP!
CB continues to lead the crowd in a whoop-along as two new figures make their way into the circle, their backs to the camera. The camera responds by jumping to the other side of the circle, revealing these two figures to be El Pablo and Cristal, still dressed in their wrestling attire, and with their matches shades still concealing their eyes. CB turns, and jumps back slightly as he notices the new arrivals, before a huge beaming smile spreads across his face.
BLAZE: Oh SHIT! The Five Star Superstar himself is here!!!
EP and CB slap hands together and hug all manly-like, the customary response to two bros being reunited with each other after a not-inconsiderable period of time.
EL PABLO: ‘Sup Kayblaze? Long time no see!
BLAZE: Fo sho, EEPZ, fo sho!
EL PABLO: How you been, man? I like the new hair! ..Did you get taller? And facial-reconstruction surgery?
Blaze cocks an eyebrow at EP, who just smirks.
BLAZE: Naw man, this is how I’ve always looked! Always! And the tallness thing.. that’s just me being pumped the fuck UP for the El Fuego reunion this Monday night man! WHOOP WHOOP!
KIDS: WHOOP WHOOP!
EL PABLO: Yeah, no doubt man, no doubt!
BLAZE: I’m telling you, man, it’s gonna.. Hey, hold up. Before we get into all that, there’s something I wanna ask you…
EL PABLO: Shoot, man.
BLAZE: ..How come you didn’t hook your boy up with a spot in TDS, man?
EP shuffles awkwardly, as CB looks at him with outstretched arms.
EL PABLO: Erm.. Well.. I mean.. it wasn’t really my group, to be fair… I couldn’t just.. you know… ANYWAY, never mind all that.. past is past, and past that past is a past we’re soon about to bring fire-balling back into the present… El Fuego ignites again!
BLAZE: HaHA! Yes, homie, yes!
EL PABLO: Yes!
BLAZE: WHOOP WHOOP!
EL PABLO: Homies!
BLAZE: Juggalos For LIFE, homeboy, for LIFE!!
EL PABLO: Yeah! WhatthefuckisaJuggalo..?
BLAZE: I tell you, man.. these two dudes? Payne and Johnson? They ain’t gonna have a fucking CLUE what hit them! You know what I’m saying? In fact, once they experience the full force of an EP/CB onslaught, they ain’t even gonna have a clue what THEM is! Am I right!?
EL PABLO: YEAH! Black Jesus ain’t got nothing on Pastor Blaze, for realz!
BLAZE: WHOOP WHOOP!
EL PABLO: Although.. I do feel I have to correct you on something there, Kaybester.
BLAZE: What’s that?
EL PABLO: Well, for one thing.. this isn’t gonna be your standard two-on-two tag match.
CB looks confusedly at EP once again.
BLAZE: ..What? Of course it is.. Payne and Johnson versus Pablo and Blaze! Two on two!
EL PABLO: Oh sure, that’s how it’s booked. But ask yourself this, my puppy-powered friend.. Who did you spend the most time Scrappy Doo-ing with in your match at Retaliation? Chris Johnson, or..
BLAZE: ..Jackson Cage.
EL PABLO: Exactly.
See, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if we see Johnson take up the exact same gameplan he put into practice at Retaliation, and even before that when he stole that UG Title off of me. He’ll be out there, sure.. but don’t be surprised if it’s his big, butch ball-buffer Jackson Cage we see standing alongside Payne on the apron, rather than Captain Courageous himself.
BLAZE: A’ight... So, what’s your plan?
EP points to Cristal.
EL PABLO: She is.
Basically, if Brigadier Backbone decides to try and make this a 3-on-2 affair, I propose we give Cristal here her official EWA debut, and let her help stoke the fires that are gonna keep you and I a-raging, and engulf our morally-questionable opponents in a bright orange blaze of suffering, screaming, and oh-my-god-what-the-fuck-just-happened-thereitude!
BLAZE: Niiiice!
CRISTAL: Yeah, and the best part is, because the Empire’s allowed women and men to mix it up as equals, I don’t even have to stick to beating up on Miss Johnson.. I can help you guys slap the piss out of the Holy Washing Machine too!
BLAZE: ..Washing machine?
EL PABLO: You remember, Payne kiss-raped her after jumping me in the ring that one time.
BLAZE: Oh yeah.
But, speaking of Payne.. what about his boy Jenkins? He didn’t exactly stick to the sidelines when you two fought it out at Retaliation.
EL PABLO: True enough.. but, look at it like this, Kaybes; Once the three of us get in full flow, they’re all gonna be so busy trying to determine which brightly-coloured blur crushing their skull between an ass and the concrete floor is which, that their extra man - and I use that term loosely when referring to “Ceej” - isn’t gonna make the slightest bit of difference!
BLAZE: I like the way you think, Pabsy!
EL PABLO: Don’t ever call me that!
BLAZE: Sorry.
EL PABLO: Kaybel, the only thing you need to know about the next edition of Shatterpoint is this; It’s Marcellus Payne, Jackson Cage, and - if he’s not too busy soiling himself in the second tier - Chris Johnson, against the bitter, broken, cheated, defeated-
CRISTAL: Erm..
EL PABLO: ..well, let’s not sugar-coat it, Cris; we HAVE been defeated by both these boys in the past.
Cristal shrugs, and nods her head.
EL PABLO: But, this time.. THIS TIME.. things will be different. Because when Payne, Cage, Johnson and Jenkins step into that ring on Monday night, they won’t JUST be coming up against the Kode of Silence…
They won’t JUST be coming up against the feather-boa’d, multi-coloured, high-flyin‘, spot-applyin‘, show-stealin‘, mask-wieldin‘, don’tmesswithhimoryou’llfacehissquirrellywrath-Star Superstar…
They will be going up against THE most intense, exciting, body-popping, shoulder-dropping force in professional wrestling history!
They will be going up.. against the El.. FUEGO.. Experience!
Blaze nods his head, a wry smile on his face.
EL PABLO: Now THAT, my friend.. is TRULY Too.. Damn.. Sexy.
The scene fades to black for the final time.
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