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It's Oh So Quiet...
Topic Started: Mar 21 2008, 03:35 PM (39 Views)
Spann
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I'm just a soldier. I'm not worthy.
[ *  *  * ]
Our scene opens in the backstage area of the Crystal Palace National Sports Centre, into an empty corridor. There is a pause of a second or two, before the huge frame of Nick Allen appears through one of the doorways, a mobile phone pressed against the side of his shiny, bald bonce. As he converses with whoever is on the other end of the phone (which is Alex Lester), he wanders through the corridors, apparently looking for something, or someone.

NA: It's wierd, Al. There doesn't seem to be anybody about. Nobody's running their mouth like they normally do between shows, nothing. Even Ash Koopa's been bizarrely silent this week, and that's so strange it's actually scary.

...

Yes, of course I've got the right arena, dickhead. There's a ring, and guys in FIW staff shirts putting lights up, and playing with fireworks and whatnot. I've left messages at peoples hotels, rang their mobiles, nothing. Nada.

...

Nope, nothing from Jay, nothing from XK, I haven't seen Jim since last week, erm... Oh, Prime's been bitching about me again, but then that record's been stuck for weeks.

...

I know. It's like he honestly can't see that I've been on the verge of decimating him every week until something happens to me. He honestly thinks he'd have a chance. Hey, maybe everyone's planning me a secret surprise birthday party, and I'll walk into the ring on Sunday and there'll be a cake and XK'll give me a present, and then Jesse James'll decide that really she belongs with me.

...

It is too my birthday.

...

Alright, it's not. maybe that isn't happening then. Hey, I've got an idea.

...

Yeah, it probably is pretty stupid. Bye.


We can hear Lester's garbled protest being cut off as Nick snaps his phone shut and puts on his best monster heel face, inches away from the lens of the camera lens.

NA: Right then, FIW. Consider this an open letter to all of you too scared to open your mouths, all those of you who've cowered in the dark all week, worried that if you say nasty things about people they might tell their mothers. Well, I'm gonna tell you what I really think of you all.

Starting from the bottom of the card:

Dragon: Bless you, you're about to be flattened by a man older than me. And hell, he's spent the last twenty years in prison, so I'd watch your arse, buddy.

Ninja, or as I like to call him, Owen Wilson: Yeah, it didn't work out with Ms. Lee, I get that. Christ, not many guys know heartbreak like I do. But still, there's no need to become Mr. moodypants about the whole situation, is there? Kicking Jay 'til he was sick just 'cos you didn't get your own way... I mean, wow...

Now, who's next... Jimmy boy Bain: C'mon lad, you'll let the world know how much you like Nike trainers, but you won't say anything to a man who made you cough your guts up in front of thousands of people? I thought I'd taught you better than that...

Anyway, Ash... I can't even call you all mouth and no trousers, can I? you've dissapointed on both fronts, I'm afraid. As for you, Colbert... Even Blake Orange seems to have more of an idea of when and where he is, and he's been in prison since I was a teenager.

Kitten: Meh, I'm used to not hearing from you for days on end, so I'm gonna let that one slide...

Moving swiftly along... Cole Summons, well you're busy flicking through the dictionary for big words to bandy about like Einstein, so that makes sense, Nightmare's probably waiting for his promo to come back from the launderette, and Elrick... Well, I think that cowboy's ridden off into the sunset one last time.

Who else do we have... Grant Rice... Pfft, I dunno... Nice vest? You're vey much 'out of sight, out of mind', I find.

Kennedy's been quiet, but then I'd imagine hanging round with Captain Muscles, and listen to him go on about how wonderful he is would pretty much suck the will to live out of you, never mind your lust for life and your desire to fight.

Roxie Galaga Nookie, or whatever your name is... Hell, you're pretty, but ain't you got the brains to say something to the girl who's gonna take that Hellcat belt right back off you?

Now, here we are at the top of the pile... Ethan Adams and Ki... Ka... The Dual Crown Champ. Both 'too cool for school', it'd seem. Both far too busy being the 'best in the biz', covering yourself in baby oil, lying in your bathtubs and screaming 'LOOK AT ME, I'M FUCKING WELL GOOOOOOOD!!'

...Or something. I dunno what you get up to in your spare time, but obviously its not gracing us with your prescence, the both of you.

So that's it, suckers. That's what I think of all of you who haven't got the balls to stand up and be counted, to say what you really think. Your cowardice makes me sick.


Nick holds his gaze on the camera for a second or two, brow deeply furrowed, a scowl etched on his face like stone. He can't keep it up for long though, before he bursts into fits of laughter and walks away down the halls.

NA: Now, let's see who can't take a joke...
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