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| Hutch Tries To Unwind; Sponsored by Xbox 360! | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 5 2007, 12:17 AM (67 Views) | |
| The Cat Hutchingson | Nov 5 2007, 12:17 AM Post #1 |
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The camera opens up to us (as it always does, or it wouldn't be much of a RP. Just a lot of black screen) on the grinning face of Jeff Noon. He's stood outside a plain white locker room door, on which their is the grinning face of Hutch, on the background of a huge, overly extravagant golden star. Just so everyone knows who's in there, y'know? Jeff Noon: Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm just about to knock on the door for FIW's Self Proclaimed Most Valuable Playboy, and find out what he thinks about Prime hitting Kennedy with a steel chair. I bet he's pissed. Thanks for that insight, Noon. Just like he said he would, he turns and knocks on the door. There's a pause, before there's a grunt. Noon turns to the camera and shrugs, wondering whether that was an invitation or not. He decides it was, and pushes the door open, to find a furious, seething, raging Hutch. Or so you'd expect. In fact, he's sitting cross legged on the floor of the room, an Xbox 360 pad in his hand, and the sounds of gunfire coming from the TV. He leans backward, and lets out a "whoop", before glancing toward Jeff and the crew, and tilting his chin up towards them. He pats the floor next to him, and Jeff, awkwardly sits down next to the former Slam! World Heavyweight Champion. Hutch: What do you want Jeff? Just say it quickly. The Flood won't exterminate themselves, you know? Jeff glances at the camera, confused. He turns back to Hutch, trying to get his questions together. JN: Uh.... Hutch. You beat Liam Mortell this week on Revolt. How do you feel about that accomplishment? Hutch presses both triggers on his Xbox pad, rocking from side to side reflexively to dodge imaginary bullets. He mutters something under his breath, before remembering that he's in the middle of an interview. Hutch: Uh...... Yeah. It was good. Enjoyed it. Good fight and that. Hutch gets drawn back into his game, and his voice trails off. Jeff looks straight into the camera and sighs. He's not entirely sure what's going on. Hutch glances over, and rolls his eyes. He puts his pad down, the sudden silence indicating he's paused his game. Hutch rubs his eyes, runs his hands through his newly blond hair, and shuffles around so he's now facing Jeff. Is this the first floor-based FIW interview? Possibly Hutch: Look Jeff, I get it. You're expecting to come in here finding me all pissed off and angry, pacing the floor and what not. But look, this is me unwinding. I've had a tough night. I've had a match, won, as usual, and then travelled down to the ring to watch Kenn-babe win the Dual Crown. And she nearly did. Jeff tries to say something, and Hutch cuts him off. Hutch: But no. The Prime-Ape decided to use this night to concede that I am, in fact, the better man. And he chose to concede that fact by smashing Kennedy in the face with a steel chair. Noon tries to interject, but Hutch again holds up his hand. He's not finished, foo! Hutch: So you want to know why I'm sat here, playing Halo 3? Well, I know from past experience that after a show, Kennedy is a hard babe to find. And you ever played Halo, Jeff? There's these things called the Brutes, that really remind me of...... Jeff's vacant expression indicates his probably hasn't played a games console since his Sega Gamegear. He has one. Honest. Hutch: Doesn't matter. Suffice to say, shooting them in the face gives me a certain satisfaction. As, I'm sure, hitting beautiful, talented, and, lest I forget, hot as the inside of a pop tart, women in the face with metal objects, does for Prime. Jeff seizes on Hutch's need to breath in and out (bastard biology!) and pounces on a point like some kind of point-pouncing spider. Don't know why I said spider. Just felt like a spidery-thing to do. JN: But Prime says it was an accident! He didn't mean to hit Kennedy! Hutch laughs. Yeah, laughs. He gestures for Jeff to stand up, before springing up, and walking over to the wall of his locker room, picking up a steel chair. He wanders over to the now-standing, and considerably nervous looking Jeff Noon. He raps on the steel chair with his knuckles. Jeff flinches, and Hutch grins. Hutch: No, I'm not going to hit you Jeff. I don't hit defenceless people. That's more of........ Prime, thing to do? But look, watch this. Steve, come here. Camera-dude can hold the boom-mike, just give it to him. The camera wobbles a bit, before steadying again. A tall man with dreadlocks walks onto camera, looking rather awkward, not used to being on this side of the camera. Hutch points at a point on the floor. Hutch: Stand behind Jeff. There. Yeah. Now look. Steve, if I wanted to hit Jeff with a steel chair, right? Steve nervously mumbles something and nods. Jeff looks worried. Hutch: I wouldn't do it with you stood right there! Even someone with limited intelligence like Jeff knows to move out the sodding way! Prime, although he's not a genius, has experience swinging heavy objects. You know, to kill sabre-tooth tigers and stuff. Long story short, there's no bloody way Prime hit Kennedy by accident. No way. And if he did, he's a thick-skulled, sloping foreheaded moron. Thanks Steve. Steve goes back behind the camera, and Hutch unfolds the chair, and sits on it, and points at the floor. Jeff, obediently drops down the floor again, less nervously now the chair is kept safely out of swinging distance and pinned to the ground by Hutch's buttocks. Hutch picks up the joypad again, and nods at the TV. Hutch: Anyway, now that little demonstration is over, I'm going to complete this level. The Arbiter is having a little trouble, and needs me to go in and bail his ass out again. As Hutch dives back into Halo-world, and Jeff looks confused as to what he should do, we'll take a little break now, and dip into this situation a little later on. However long it takes Hutch to save the world. Shouldn't be long, then! TO BE CONTINUED |
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| The Cat Hutchingson | Nov 5 2007, 10:44 PM Post #2 |
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Unregistered
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CONTINUED Hutch puts his controller down, and wipes some sweat (probably imaginary) off his brow. He grins, and chuckles to himself, leaning over and switching the Xbox 360 off. He claps his hands together, jerking Jeff Noon out of what looked like a light snooze. Hutch gives Jeff the evil eye as he tries to shake off the sleepy-foggyness and remember what his questions were going to be. Hutch shakes his head, and turns to face the camera. Hutch: I'll do this shall I? Git. Look, I'm in a match this week, and to be honest it's one I'm not happy about. It's me, teaming with a man who I have quite a bit of bad blood with, against one man who says he hates my guts, and his partner, a man who doesn't particularly like me one bit. Hutch scratches the top of his head, and shrugs. Hutch: I'll be honest with you there Jeff. I don't like my odds one teensy little bit. But whatever, you know? I'm teaming with Kiyoshi Nakahata, a man who has actually beaten me before. Oh yeah. That aside, what bothers me most is......... He's a Reject. I'm teaming with a Reject. Hutch stares right into the camera, not blinking. He exhales, and shakes his head disgustedly. He points to a point on his forehead. Hutch: See this? Right there? Hutch is pointing a tiny piece of discoloured skin, a tiny little line across his forehead. Jeff cranes forward to have a look, before Hutch drops his hair back down. Hutch: That little scar is a permanent reminder of what The Rejects did to me. I'm pissed about it. I was bleeding, and I bled a lot. And I don't particularly like bleeding. I'm not like Hardcore Sex, who, I've gathered, enjoying bleeding. One on purpose, and the other...... well, I've heard it's a sad and yet unavoidable part of his sex life. Somewhere backstage, an FIW lawyer sucks in air through his teeth, and dreads the coming phone calls. Hutch: But I'll partner with Kiyoshi, as long as his Reject buddies aren't at ringside. If they are, lets just say I'm not going to be the best tag team partner in the world. Kiyoshi doesn't need those morons. He's a good wrestler, and he'll cope better without them, than he will without me. My partner aside, my opponents are going to be fun. Xtreme Kitten! The seemingly unbeatable Dual Crown champion! Although he's only unbeatable because I haven't had a one on one match with him for the title yet. And, he's probably going to be a little narked about that Slice of Fried Gold I gave him last week. And a couple of weeks ago. For no apparent reason. Hutch shrugs, and flashes what he thinks as a charming grin. Hutch: Understandably, but mate, you gotta remember, you have to do what you have to do to try to keep the ladies happy. Although maybe he doesn't know that. I mean, Lucy. You obviously didn't keep her happy, because she left. And uh, you know, if you happen to have her contact details, Kitten, could you kind of swing them my way? I'll show her how it feels to be with a man who doesn't think he's a cat. Miaow. Jeff leans forward with the microphone, obviously getting a little bored. What's the point of being an interviewer when you don't get to ask any questions? What's the point in Jeff's existance? Probably nothing, actually. Hutch: And Prime. The Prime-Ape. You know, me and him haven't had a one on one match for quite some time? And I look forward to beating him, because he deserves it. I don't like him. Never have. He took my World title from me, all those years ago, and that's reason enough for me to hate his guts. But right now, it's not about me at all. It's about what I did for Kennedy, and........ JN:[/b] Hutch, isn't a little hypocritical of you to be protecting Kennedy's honour? I mean, she's a tough woman, and she's even beaten you in a one on one match. And besides, you're kind of a..... well..... you're a bit of a slut. Hutch's mouth drops open. This is probably the first time Jeff has ever appeared to have a set. A set of what, you ask? Well, testicles, silly! Hutch reaches up with his thumb and snaps his jaw shut. He yanks the microphone out of Jeff's hand, and looks at him admonishingly. Bad Jeff! Hutch: Thanks for the morality lesson Jeff. You shitter. Look, there's a difference between me and Kennedy wrestling a...... mostly fair contest, and Prime-Ape, an illegal intruder in the match, smashing a woman in the face with a steel chair, and costing her something that she wants so much. I don't agree with it. I never have. Seem as though you want to delve into my past character Jeff, lets talk about A New Era. Jeff's eyebrows raise suddenly, and he leans forward, excited he might get a little bit of a scoop. Hutch: Yeah, A New Era. ANE, former tag team champions of the World, and both of us former World Champions. But we broke up and reformed twice. You remember the first time ANE broke up? It was because Ragin' beat the shit out of Kailey Lane. Forget everything that happened between those two later on. It was because after a match, Ragin' hit the Feature Remover on her, on a woman. So, right there, I don't agree with it. Jeff smiles and nods, indicating that he probably doesn't remember the match Hutch is talking about, but wants to look like does, so he's smiling and nodding in that patronising way idiots do when they want to look smart. The git. Hutch looks right into the camera, dead serious. In fact, this might be the most serious he's been since he returned to FIW. Hutch: So, Prime, get this straight. Screw Nakahata. Screw Kitten. I'm putting up with them because I want a go at you. You said it best, Prime-Ape. I. Hate. You. I hate you for what you've done to Kennedy. No-one messes with my girl. Before Jeff can point out Kennedy isn't actually even CLOSE to being Hutch's girl, Hutch stands up, drops the microphone, and walks out of the room. Jeff turns, and watches him go. We heard the door creak, and slam shut. Jeff stares at the microphone on the floor, and then turns to the camera. Shrugging, he reaches for Hutch's Xbox pad, and picks it up, pressing the on button. Even interviewers deserve a little down time. FADE OUT |
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| Dai | Nov 6 2007, 11:38 PM Post #3 |
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Captain SPARKLE~!!!
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From Black we slowly turn to more Black; until the point comes where the Black is interrupted with White. That and a face. Slowly rising and falling with the man's breathing, we see Kiyoshi Nakahata's neutral, humourless face turn towards the camera held at the length of his arm. We are, of course, focused on Kiyoshi's "good" side Kiyoshi: I hate you Mr. Hutchinson. So much hatred in our main event this week; because I hate you too. So Hutch doesn't actually hate Kiyoshi, but he finished his promo by saying how he hates Prime, so it seems like a good point to come in. Kiyoshi: But hate is a strange thing, in some ways, a powerful word; one way to express those dark, negative feelings towards your fellow man; but then, without actions, what are words? The camera blurs as he shrugs Kiyoshi: So how best for me to express my hatred for you? Choking all of the life out of your body, as satisfying as that might be, would solve nothing. All that would achieve is to draw even more attention to you, and unfortunately, that would just make things worse. To turn to you, throw you to the ground and pummel you into oblivion would prove nothing; indeed, it would merely turn attention back to you... Kiyoshi jerks out of shot for a moment on the word 'you' with a twitch of his hand. Kiyoshi: And what are you, Mr. Hutchinson? A spoilt, ikemen brat, who cannot get the gold, the girl nor even keep his pretty face intact. You lack the strength to reach out and grab what you want, so you sneak and squirm; weasel and worm your way to what you want... And only now does Kiyoshi realise that he's neither keeping to subject, nor keeping the camera on him. One is rectified, then the other. Kiyoshi: However, I do not mean physical strength; at least not necessarily only physical strength. Physical strength is, of course an important part of being a wrestler, but as we know, it is not everything. There is also mental strength, the will to drive yourself forward, and while I make light of your scar, it belies you failing in this second aspect of strength. On this, he turns his head right round, to show off his own scar. Kiyoshi: I too have been scarred in a professional ring. Does it enrage me that someone had the audacity to break my skin? Do I wish death and pain on the ones who inflicted on me, every time I see it? Do I complain loudly about what is an unavoidable risk as part of my job? He shakes his head, so the left side is facing away from the camera once more. Kiyoshi: Oh no, Mr. Hutchinson; I get on with the business of the day. On and on and on, trying be the best; trying to prove myself to the world as the best. Not as some kind of Valuable Playboy, or as some kind of Evolution, or some kind of Superstar. I want to be the best Wrestler. The best in this King of Sports... And this my friends, is the calm before the storm. Not that Kiyoshi gets close to shouting, but there's more venom than usual in his voice. Kiyoshi: I hate you, Hutch, but if I am to be the best Wrester, I cannot reduce myself to be another bit-player in your teen-drama. I will fight our match this week in the same way I fight any other; as a professional who wants nothing more to win. I hate you, but I can still team effectively with anyone, and I will. Anything less is down at your level. He goes to turn the camera off, since that last statement is emphatic enough to finish it off. Still he thinks better of it. Kiyoshi: I also refute your statement that I am better off without the rest of the Rejects behind me. Therefore, I give you the same answer I gave Priest, when I won the right to challenge for the Dual Crown once more: I will not turn my brothers away just for you. If you want to see if you are right, then stay in bed on Friday, and I will fight Prime and Kitten. On. My. Own... And that's that. |
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