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We Read Marvel Too.; Just call me Daisuke von Crow [PhD.]
Topic Started: Jul 3 2007, 10:38 AM (60 Views)
Dai
Member Avatar
Captain SPARKLE~!!!
Creative Team
Gold fills the entire world. Shiny, freshly polished gold. It shrinks to take it's rightful place on the centre of the large oak desk of Daisuke 'The Crow' Tanaka. The man himself sits, half submerged in an enormous leather office chair, with his feet up, revealing that yes, he really does wear his boots & UWF style leg guards all the time, be it in the ring, on the road, or at his desk when you would think that he would be smartened up somewhat. This isn't intended to disparage his tailor in any way, shape or form,* in fact, he good enough to reccomend to his associates. To wit; Mr. Blond, the Peroxide Outlaw, all luminous hair and incomprehensible drawl wrapped up in a pin-striped suit perches on the corner, smoking one of his thin cigars, occaisionally tapping the ash into a tray by his side.

Both men - as you might imagine if you'd have seen the semi-main of this week's ReVolt - look extremely pleased with themselves, thanks in no small part to the Tag Team Championship of the World, and the two belts that comprise it sitting on the table with them. Despite pretending to talk to each other, the two are, in fact staring straight into the camera.


Mr. the Crow: You know, Blond-san,** I was almost worried - although I do not think that that is perhaps the best choice of words - by our opponents this week.

Mr. Blond: Yeah? Can't 'zactly say Ah was, at all.

Mr. the Crow: Well, I say opponents, only one of them. You see, having riled him up so much, ruining his chance at glory and just generally needling him, I thought I may well be unleashing some kind of Demon of Pure Rage upon myself and my operations here.

Mr. Blond: Which one'd tha'be then? Tha gimp in his mask; tha father of tha year; the geek who reads way too many comic books or tha other one?

Daisuke chuckles at the brief descriptions of his current rivals.

Mr. the Crow: I do believe the third. I know the Saga of Jean Grey and the Phoenix, and it was with a little bit of surprise I heard it retold by Mr. Cooper in relation to himself, but it did reveal a number of interesting points about the man.

Mr. Blond: Tha' he's delunal? Thinks he's Stan Lee an' Hulk Hogan rolled inta one?

Another grating laugh, mercifully quiet and mercifullly short.

Mr. the Crow: We knew that already. No, we found out how utterly right I was about the man, and for those not paying attention, I will restate that the Team with No Name are Cowards.

Mr. Blond: Ah see; tha whole bitchin' 'bout the in-just-tice-ses o' tha world wi'out doin' anythin' bout it bit. Again.

Mr. the Crow: But now we know a tiny bit more of the reasoning why. Mr. Cooper holds himself back, and surrounds himself with cuddly morons, cuteness and pastel shades to dull his edge and restrain the rampantly violent soul that dwells within.

Mr. Blond: Ah know tha'. He said 'smuch hisself. Unless o'course this burnin' bird sorta encomp'ses his 'faightin' spirit' or whatever 'tis yew crazy g-

He bites back a racial slur, bearing in mind the man next to him, and for a tiny moment can be seen praying that Daisuke carries on without picking up on what he was about to say.

Mr. the Crow: I think you perhaps might be right. I saw this beast, this Phoenix, minute flashes of it here and there, and I know that only when a man can fight without any inhibition can he ever get anywhere his potential. For me, this knowledge is born from the fact that if I 'cut loose' as it were, and unleashed The Super Ninja DAISUKE from three years ago, I may soon find myself unable to walk. So, Mr. Cooper, I find other ways.

They now abandon the pretence of talking to each other, and their smiles fade slightly.

Mr. Blond: And we know damn sure ya don' like 'em. Bu' then, we don' care. Hey wait, it's tha' "Fightin' wi'out In'bitions" thing again.

Mr. the Crow: And that is what separates us. Your temper, Mr. Cooper, the one thats scares yourself and your worthless partner, is what drives you. The anger, I feel, is unnecessary, but I have seen how some people cannot separate their anger from their Toukon, and without that, you cannot beat me.

The Peroxide Outlaw blows a smoke ring, and closes out the piece with characteristic bluntness.

Mr. Blond: In closin' y'all, don' waste ya time.

Mr. the Crow: Unless of course, you can out-wit us...

Mr. Blond: But we got tha Tag Titles first, an' one'a us weren't even fightin' for them. Can' see tha' happn'in.

Mr. the Crow: Out-cheat us...

Mr. Blond: But tha goodie two shoes can' do that neither 'cause they too goodie goode for tha' kinda shit.

Mr. the Crow: Or out-fight us...

Mr. Blond: Which they can't do fo' tha reasons we jus' been through.

Daisuke pretends to ponder this for a moment.

Mr. the Crow: ... It would appear my esteemed colleague is quite correct. Stay home, gentlemen and please don't waste our time.

Blondie stubs out his cigarillo, and Daisuke swivels around on his seat, so the back is to the camera, as we finish.

[size0]* Daisuke isn't daft enough to think that expensive automatically equals quality, but the tailor is good at what he does, and charges accordingly.

** Daisuke's strange about this kind of thing. He usually almost spits the 'Mister' out when he says it, imbuing with as much contempt as is possible. It means that when he uses the Japanese suffixes, it's bordering on showing genuine*** respect.

*** You never can quite tell though.
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Dai
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Captain SPARKLE~!!!
Creative Team
And after a commercial break which spans days, we return. Daisuke swivels his chair back around to face the camera, and Mr. Blond hops back up on the desk with a new cigarillo, lighting it as he sits down. The Tag Titles are unmoved, and the two champions sit in the exact same places they sat the first time round this week. Even the predaory grins remain unchanged.

Mr. the Crow: Our masked friend, and I use the term loosely, desires facts. Specifically the cold, hard facts from which I derive the conclusion that he, much like his partner, is a coward. Firstly, last week, the two of us competed in a match that believe was billed as a 'Triple Threat,' which was to my understanding a three way competition. Neither Mr. Lumberjack nor Mr. Cooper had any intention of fighting off each other, and instead chose to gang up on myself.

Mr. Blond: Woah, tha's pretty low. Ah'd even go so far's ta call it cowardly.

Mr. the Crow: Secondly, you hide your own failures behind past successes.

Feigning confusion, Mr. Blond chimes in with a:

Mr. Blond: Ehh?

Mr. the Crow: You beat Us. And very well done to you. You forget that We have also beaten You. Or did you perhaps forget the four on four Elimination match shortly before Deadlock? And then you blame me for stealing your chance at gold. Need I remind you sir, that I was forced to disqualify you when you so needlessly attacked me.

Mr. Blond: 'Cause ya know, a real wrassler would'a been able ta counter tha' hold, instead'a goin' fo' tha ropes.

Mr. the Crow: Thirdly, only a coward hides behind empty threats. When have I ever threatened you, your partner or anyone else with physical violence?

Mr. Blond: Never, as far's Ah remember.

Mr. the Crow: And, Blond-san, how often have we been threatened with the same?

Mr. Blond: Ah can point ta three 'caisions this week. Ah don' ken Ah can count tha times in tha last month, but if we's gon' trah ta express pain we suffered as a function o' how much we's was promised, then Ah'm a gon' have ta say we gon' be plottin' a straight lahne where no matter how we's been promised, we still get tha same amount, which ain't much.

Now it's Daisuke's turn to chip in with a faux-question.

Mr. the Crow: Not even the pain caused by listening to them?

Mr. Blond: Ah thought we paid people ta listen 'n sum'rahsie it fo' us.

Daisuke remembers that he does, and nods, before continuing on his original tack.

Mr. the Crow: All these, my friends, are facts. I have not yet lied to you. I have not used past successes as logic for future victories, and while slurp sugar and get fat, playing silly little games in the sand, I have been at war for these titles!

His voice has risen, and Blondie takes over while he regains his composure.

Mr. Blond: Ya see, y'all, we know what we are. We know tha crimes we committed ta get ta this point. We had Larceny, Grand Larceny, Impersonatin' Officials, Cons'pracy ta defraud bah way'ah aformention'd impers'nations, 'Sault, Battery, 'Sault wi' weapons; all kinda shit, an' ya know we gonna keep doin' it. Tha boss here almost had his life taken from him, righ'? Ev'rythin' he ever wan'd ta do wi'hisself he ver'nearly can' do. 'Fit was yew, boy, Ah don' 'ken ya could. Ah think tha' y'all'd be drawin' ya dis'bility and spendin' rest ya life moanin' bout how shit it all is.

Back to the boss, who's wondering if perhaps he isn't paying this man enough. Or perhaps about cutting his pay for being a sycophantic wastrel. Hard to tell. He carries on though.

Mr. the Crow: Like you gentlemen, I want recognition. I want people screaming my name, I want them hanging off every single thing I do in the ring. Just. Like. You. You have your way, and what a foul, demeaning way it is. You both stand for nothing. You have these hollow notions of 'Good' and 'Right' and worst of all 'Ought.'

Laughter ensues...

Mr. the Crow: People hear my name and jeer. People throw their beer at me while I take a breath at ringside. Insults are hurled at me with every move I make. I, gentlemen, am recognised. What are you? Nothing. Who really cares about you? I heard them all scream when you pinned me last week. I heard them bray when you enacted your revenge, masquerading as justice. Were they screaming for you? I think not. Any two people could have been in that ring in your places and the reaction would have been the same. You are only loved...

Mr. Blond: If y'all can call it that...

Mr. the Crow: Because you stand against me. Think about that, gentlemen. I am what you wish you were. You only care that they love you, and so you clip your wings. You can never rise above me, because I am your making. Mr. Blond, if you would be so kind, we are done here.

Mr. Blond stubs out the cigarillo he's been smoking and walks up to the camera. You know the rest.
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