| Welcome to Full Intensity Wrestling. We hope you enjoy your visit. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| When The Levee Breaks | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Aug 7 2007, 11:24 PM (50 Views) | |
| Ash | Aug 7 2007, 11:24 PM Post #1 |
|
Capt. Ash Kapow~!
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Cryin' won't help you, prayin' won't do you no good. The location is the Staples Center, in Los Angeles, California. The day is Tuesday. The time is unclear, but one can assume it is late evening for the benefit of this segment. And it is here, backstage in a near-empty locker room, that the scene opens. In the middle of the room is a wooden table, most likely a dining table, surrounded by four chairs. Atop the table isn't a centrepiece or even a vase, but a pair of black-and-red sports bags sitting alone in the room. After a few moments of silence, we hear the faint clicking sound of a door latch closing from off-screen and is followed closely by the image of Ash Koopa walking into the shot. Wearing jeans and a black dress shirt, Ash cautiously glances around the room as he makes his way over to the table in the centre. He checks the bags, then grabs the handles and carefully lifts them, only for a familiar voice to break the silence. El Lumberjacko: "Ash? Is that you?" Stopping dead in his tracks, Ash drops the bags on the floor, his stealth apparently not good enough as El Lumberjacko walks into the shot with a bowl of cereal covered with, what appears to be, maple syrup. Sighing, Ash glances to the floor, then at his partner with a look of guilt on his face. Ash: "Yeah, it's me.." El Lumberjacko: "And where have you been, mister? When I got to the airport to get the tickets, they said you'd changed to an earlier flight. Much earlier.." Ash: "I had some personal business to deal with.." With that said, Ash grabs the handles of the bags and picks them up from the floor, then turns his back on his partner. Again sighing, Ash makes his way across the room toward the door and the camera follows his movements as El Lumberjacko stands dejected, shown by his shoulders slumping. Ash grabs the door handle and pauses for a moment, staring at the floor with a look of anguish on his face, then pulls it open and steps out into the corridor, pulling the door shut behind him. The camera turns to focus on El Lumberjacko as he shakes his head and sighs to himself, clearly more confused than angry. Suddenly, the door bursts open and Ash steps back into the room, without the bags this time. He paces straight up to El Lumberjacko and raises his hand to point, then turns and walks away again. Stopping, Ash takes a deep breathe and turns back to face his partner. Ash: "You know what? There's no point beating around the bush with a bunch of bullshit excuses.." Clearly angered, Ash contorts his face and struggles to keep control of his temper, before turning and bringing his fists down on the table in a rage, almost causing it to tip over. As such, El Lumberjacko takes a few steps back and places his bowl of cereal on a sideboard. Ash: "I can't do this anymore. I am absolutely fucking sick to death of this! Week in, week out, I bust my butt in that ring to try and pull this team to the very top of this damn Hell-hole of a promotion. I beat the Zaibatsu. I beat the Revolution. I beat whatever fucking random pair of half-wit morons the front office throws at us in such a convincing manner that we get granted a shot at the World Tag Team Championships; the oh-so glorious and respected belts held by the Zaibatsu. And what do you do? You lose. And you do it on such a consistent basis, that I'm beginning to wonder if you're some sort of a fucking plant, destined to bring me crashing back to the ground every time my head goes up in the clouds. Well, thanks a fucking bunch, 'Jacko." With that said, Ash again turns to leave and gets as far as the door to the locker room, before pausing once more. After a brief second, Ash glances over his shoulder to see El Lumberjacko still standing there, seemingly shocked by the out-burst. With a somewhat demonic glare, Ash turns and walks back toward his partner. Ash: "And do you know what else? Do you, 'Jacko? Do you know what else?!" Unsure how to answer, El Lumberjacko meekly shakes his head from side to side. Ash: "For once, maybe you should consider growing up and getting yourself a set of balls. We lose because you're not mature enough to handle the big matches. You're too focused on playing up this crappy little gimmick of yours. Drinking maple syrup and making references to wood every once in a while doesn't win you matches. It doesn't win you respect and it sure as Hell doesn't win you a World Tag Team Championship. It doesn't win you anything, other than the admiration of the kids too stupid to change the channel when ReVolt comes on the air. And don't think that you're some sort of hero to these kids, because when they drink the maple syrup, it goes right to their hips, their bums, and every other part of their body that get fat. You're killing kids with your bullshit shtick! And, worst of all, you're killing my career.." Briefly turning his attention away from his partner, Ash spots the bowl of cereal on the side. He makes his way over to it and looks at the contents with suspicion, then dips his little finger into it. As he slowly pulls his finger out, Ash admires the golden-brown colour oozing from the tip of his finger. Ash: "Maple syrup?" El Lumberjacko remains silent, prompting Ash to swipe at the bowl, sending it crashing to the floor. Ash: "What sort of a fucking moron has syrup on their cereal? You know, maybe Daisuke was right. I hate to admit it, but that bastard may actually be on to something. Why waste my time with you, playing up to the fans on a weekly basis? It gets me nowhere. I was never concerned with getting those people cheering me before I came to this blasted country. With them cheering and chanting my name, I haven't gotten anywhere and it's because you're screwing every last thing up. You're stopping me from making a success of myself in this promotion, 'Jacko. You and you alone." Finally, with that said, Ash barges through El Lumberjacko and heads for the door to the locker room. He grabs the handle and pulls the door open, then steps toward the corridor, only to turn back and glare at his supposed partner. Ash: "Don't forget that we've got a match on Friday. And don't fuck it up." He then steps into the corridor and pulls the door shut, seemingly bringing all of this to an end. |
![]() |
|
| Kyle | Aug 8 2007, 10:42 PM Post #2 |
|
Carolina Gentleman
![]()
|
You can almost see the eyebrow of 'Jacko's arched highly in an offended matter towards Ash's actions, except for the fact he has a mask on and you can't see any of his face at all. He walks over to where the bowl of cereal has fallen, scooping up a little bit of the maple syrup with his two fingers and sticking it where the mouthscreen is on his mask. El Lumberjacko: "Bastard. Wasting perfectly good maple syrup because he's going through male PMS. I don't know what his deal is or what has his panties in a bunch, but he'd get over it before Friday, because I can't work with someone that doesn't have their priorities together." 'Jacko stands back up and walks over to the table, taking a seat. El Lumberjacko: "And who does he think he is saying that I lost all those matches? I've helped win us a fair share of matches and he sure as hell has contributed to helping us lose on occasion too. If he thinks he can just push me around because I'm a happy go lucky guy then he's had one too many crumpets. I swear if he pulls that crap again and goes off on me there's no telling what I might do. He may be bigger than me, but I'll be damned if he's going to talk down to me like I'm some sort of kid. Immature? He's the one who thinks he's freakin' Hulk Hogan incarnated, how much more childish can you get than that?" The masked luchadore slams his hand on the table in anger similar to Ash did earlier, but with noticeably less force. El Lumberjacko: "Pssh, I'm not corrupting those kids with my maple syrup and making them fat. If anything he's showing them that if you're mentally handicapped enough you too can trick yourself into thinking something you're not. Koopamaniacs, what a load of crap. There's only one kind of maniac, and it's definitely not one that accompanies a fat British slob. The only reason we've lost so many times is because his fat ass can't go in the ring. Every other double axe handle and he's bending over struggling for air. We'd have won the tag-team titles if he had actually prepared. I'm in the wilderness lugging around logs all day and he's holed up in his flat watching stupid comedy flicks from the eighties. Wasting all his money on DVDs, thinking he's getting some great deal." He reaches inside his front shirt pocket, taking out what looks to be a secret stash of maple syrup in a silver flask that you might put alcohol in. 'Jacko takes out a small shot glass from the pocket of his pants as well, placing it on the table and emptying a small amount of syrup into it from his flask. He quickly downs it and the syrup drips down from his mask screen, getting it on himself a little. El Lumberjacko: "Maybe if I was given a little more lee-way and he wasn't trying to hog the spotlight we'd win more. But no, he has to play "Captain Koopa", and try to take over everything. If we lose to the Revolution this week, despite how nice of guys they are, I swear I'm going to kick him in his grapefruits. And there's no ifs ands or buts about it, I will shove my little lumberjack foot in between his legs. That ought to light a fire under his butt, or at least in his groin area so that our team works more cooperatively." Instead of another shot, El Lumberjacko unscrews the top to the flask and drinks heavily from it, getting even more syrup on his pants and mask, but he continues to do so anyways. He places the flask back in his pocket as well as the shot glass, placing his arms on the table and cradling his head, letting out a deep sigh. El Lumberjacko: "What happened to the good times? What happened to the great memories?" And that kids, is the end, the finale, the absolute last bit of this promo. |
[align=center] [/align]
| |
![]() |
|
| « Previous Topic · Oni's ReVolution · Next Topic » |
| Theme: Zeta Original | Track Topic · E-mail Topic |
2:32 PM Jul 11
|





![]](http://z4.ifrm.com/static/1/pip_r.png)




[/align]

2:32 PM Jul 11