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Q.T. McWhiskers.; [Ash Koopa]
Topic Started: Mar 22 2008, 12:18 AM (38 Views)
Ash
Capt. Ash Kapow~!
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Remember me? I'm the one who had your baby's eyes.
The scene cuts in; no fancy bullshit. Sat directly in front of the camera is Ash Koopa, whilst the background appears to be a typical, non-descript hotel room - perhaps like something you'd find in a travel lodge, as opposed to a Hilton. Wearing a dull expression on his face, coupled with equally dull t-shirt and jeans, Ash leans in toward the camera and narrows his eyes.

Ash: "Cute stuff there, Nick."

His eyes widen as Ash moves away from the camera, seemingly resting on the edge of his low-budget bed.

Ash: "Then again, who wouldn't expect childish things from a man who has a move named 'The Allen Key'? You're the epitome of youthful ignorance, Nick, thinking that if your opponent doesn't have anything to say, you can just go off and insult whoever you like. Well, I have a news flash for you, mister. You're the one that the fans are supposed to be cheering; you and Xtreme Kitten. Leave the random insults to me and Colbert. Or better yet, just me. I don't speak on behalf of The Rejects, but I'm sure they'll echo my words in another form to suit their needs at some point."

As if confused by his own words, Ash cocks his head to the right and stares into the lens. Not to directly connect with the viewers, but with a glassy gaze in his eyes, indicating that Ash's mind isn't entirely focused on the task at hand.

Ash: "I suggest, Nick, that before you start chasing the number two ranked wrestler with your words, you have your little man in the suit slap you a few more times. It'll help you get accustomed to the real thing. The only differences being that my face won't be as flat as a piece of paper and my slaps will be a whole lot harder. I hope your face can take the slap from a real man, Nick. And let me remind you that, last Sunday, it took two people at once to pin me."

To reiterate the point, Ash raises the middle and index fingers on his right hand, representing the number two. And possibly delivering a subtle swear at the same time, as opposed to having his hand around the other way, offering peace to his opponent.

Ash: "Kennedy couldn't do it by herself, Nick. Nor could ETHAN ADAMS. It took two of the 'top tier' stars to keep my shoulders down for a three count, and that was after a considerable bit of team work. Now, Xtreme Kitten may be a former Dual Crown Champion, and like Kennedy, it's in the history books and counts for squat right now. My question to you, however, is this; do you believe you have the ability to make it to the top of this promotion? As I said, it took two of the so-called best to keep me down. Right now, I'm looking at mine and Colbert's opponents for Sunday and I can see a guy who got incredibly lucky in terms of topping the promotion. And then, I see you, Nick. A great big slab of meat ready to be moulded. Do I think you can be something special here in Full Intensity Wrestling?"

Pause for dramatic effect.

Ash: "I do, yes. But at this moment in time, you're on the fast track to nowhere and I promise that you're not going to beat me on Sunday night. Xtreme Kitten isn't doing anything for you. You're just satisfying his sadistic needs for a whipping boy. Both you and Jay are Kitten's personal stress relievers. And I'm not saying you need to abandon him and join The Rejects, but at least be his equal in the team. Would you rather be a sheep or a shepherd, Nick?"

Narrowing his eyes again, Ash allows a devilish smirk to break in the left corner of his mouth. His intentions are clear and Ash appears to be enjoying the attempt at manipulation.

Ash: "Ignore the brochure for The Rejects, because it isn't quite the holiday package it describes itself as being. I learnt that on Sunday when the Dual Crown Champion can't even aid his partner effectively. And I can only imagine what sort of crap is going to happen this Sunday with Colbert and the General on one side and a dominatrix and her cat on the other. There's a reason I've been quiet, Nick, and it is quite simple. I don't want to draw attention to this match. This is, quite possibly, the freak show of the night. And for it to be happening in London, no less, just forty-five minutes from Reading by train, is not an ideal prospect for me. After last week, I'm actually loathing the situation, so excuse me if I cut my tongue out and feed it to your partner with a little cap nip added for flavour."

Relaxing, Ash allows his facial expressions to return to normal.

Ash: "This Sunday, I don't care about the rankings. I don't care for my partner, nor for yours, Nick. You've got potential and I'm going to get it out of you by beating you senseless. Either you'll break and quit, or you'll kick it into a new gear. And, quite honestly, I'll be happy either way. If I can make you like I made the Flycore Division, people will sit up and take notice of me."

Getting to his feet, Ash points into the lens with his left index finger.

Ash: "A memory may just be made this Sunday."

With that, Ash winks and walks out of sight. In the background, the sound of a door creaking can be heard and is promptly followed by the flicking of a switch, resulting in the room being bathed in darkness. As the door creaks again, and clicks to signify that it has shut, the scene fades with just as little bullshit as it began.

[align=center]:: END ::[/align]
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