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| Hooligan; [Ninja] | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 26 2008, 07:36 PM (66 Views) | |
| Kryten Shards | Mar 26 2008, 07:36 PM Post #1 |
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[align=center]"I'm so wrong So wrong, so wrong How can you listen all night long? Night long, night long Now will it matter after I'm gone?"[/align] Those words sing their way through the audio alongside instrumentals that set for the mood for when the camera fades in from darkness. Familiar is the setting of this particular segment, mostly because it resembles one that was featured the week previous. Minor differences do exist however, such as the smaller bar and the larger dance floor in this establishment than the former one. As well as the lot that consists of its population look like a very different breed than the happy drunks from before. These people seemingly are made up of two different kinds of people, with a few exceptions sprinkled through out their ranks. The first type being men & women alike with their hair combed to the side with the bangs hanging into their faces, especially over one eye. Their nails are painted black and they all seem to be wearing tight clothes of the darker shades, some feature bands & television icons on them. Each of them seem to be completely and utterly bored with the ordeal of this dance club, and want nothing else than to leave if their expressions mean any thing. Second type is just as bizarre, the Manchester natives wearing clothes more to the taste of urban life styles. Track pants, jogging pants and incredibly baggy jeans make up the majority of these ones' bottom attire with tank tops & track jackets & a greater variety for their tops. Some are also sporting chains around their necks made of gold and silver, and baseball caps tilted to the sides in strange and foreign manners. Most of them seem to be happier to be there, downing drinks and performing the latest attempts at some thing that resembles break dancing. [align=center]"I spent my high school career Spit on and shoved to agree So I could watch all my heroes Sell a car on tv"[/align] On and on the music continues to play at thumping levels, the very structure shaking from the might of the bass. It is this music alone that seems to form some kind of happenstance bond between the two clans of creatures within the building on this evening. Not the drinks, not the opposite genders by the handful, not the lights & smoke machine or any thing else the club seems to possess in spades. The first type merely bobbles their heads about, their bangs bouncing around their faces as they watch the second type spin & twirl around in acrobatic methods. Amidst these two factions it is easy to see why a man in a full dress suit and a mask might stand out like a sore thumb. It doesn't help his case that his suit's pants and jacket are a dark navy blue, and his buttoned up shirt & tie a dark violet. Each of them so dark that it is only when the lights briefly flash onto him that it becomes clear these items aren't in fact black. They match the dark blue & black mask on the man's head or the best they can for what they have to work with. [align=center]"If I'm so wrong So wrong, so wrong How can you listen all night long? Night long, night long Now will it matter long after I'm gone? Because you never learn a goddamned thing."[/align] While this music seems to fuel the masses into their rituals of dance, it doesn't appear to have that effect on this certain individual. Rather he sits at the far end of the bar, eerily similar to the past week with how his posture on the steel stool is. Right down to the glass mug of beer that rests within his right hand, and looks absolutely untouched at the current moment in time. A minor difference is that his other hand lacks whatever it is that it was holding the week that's gone by, and is left resting on the counter. Peaceful and harmless though this action may be, there are some that it gains the attention of beyond his actual appearance. Several rowdy gentlemen from the second type at the bar notice him, most of them snickering and giggling amongst themselves. Yet there is one of them that continue to stare at him with a blank and idiotic expression, his mind trying to turn the cogs that make it up. As his buddies continue to have a good time, some thing seems to click in his head finally by his expression and he gets their attention. First it is a quiet murmur between his amigos and him, and a few quick glances from them back over to the young man at the end of the bar. Soon devious and drunken grins start to spread across their lips one by one like a domino affect between all of them. Most of them make sure to scoop up their mugs and start strutting their way down the bar, and over to the masked man they've taken an interest in. Like a pack of wolves they circle around him and enclose him around the bar counter, their grins magnified by the glow of the lights hitting them. [align=center]"So go, go away, just go, run away. But where did you run to? And where did you hide? Go find another way, price you pay"[/align] Chav #1: Yo mate, got a question. [align=center]"Woah, Woah, Woah, Woah, Woah, Woah"[/align] Nothing, the man nor the group as a whole gets a reaction from the masked man sitting at the bar. He continues to stare off into space and sit there ever so still that the gentle heaves of his chest from breathing are barely noticeable. A few of them look between each other, and one eyes the mug in the man's hand, peaking over his shoulder to see the contents. The leader of the group shrugs off the ignoring of his comment and slinks in closer to the masked man, his grin growing far more devilish. Chav #1: Me mates and me were talking a moment ago and we think...you're that Ninja bloke. Ya know, from the telly, that wrestling crap or whatever. Bigger and bigger that grin grows with each moment, showing the stains on the man's otherwise perfect teeth. Foolishly or bravely, the young man decides to get closer to the Second Generation Extreme Ninja that is trying to enjoy(?) himself here. Now only about a foot apart, the lights reflect the equally devilish glow in the young man's drunken eyes that show his intentions as clear as crystal. With his breath beating down onto the back of the former champion's neck, he shouts over the music once more. Chav #1: It is you, ain't it?! A quick glance to his friends gets equal sinister grins on all of their faces, and they share a small chuckle. Chav #1: What I'd tell ya, boys?! It's... Now he plops his hand down hard against the shoulder of FIW's O.G. Ninja and grins proudly at his discovery. Chav #1: That lil' bloke that's so pussy whipped it's pathetic! Bad enough the ponce is playing a fake sport like wrestling where they have mats and shit. But he also is a loser in their actual show as he can't get any to save his life! He can't bang the broad! Little by little the group breaks out into snickers and giggles once more until the final line that sends them into roars. A couple of them fall over in their mixture of intoxicated and amusement, slapping the ground and their thighs as they howl out. Tears stream down a few of their eyes, wiping them away with a fling of their hands without a second thought. Only their leader continues to stare at EN #2 the entire time he laughs at the misfortune(?) of the masked man, and leans in close to whisper through his snickers... [align=center]"You're just a sad song with nothing to say About a life long wait for a hospital stay And if you think that I'm wrong, This never meant nothing to ya, come on"[/align] Chav #1: Couldn't bang the broad. [align=center]"You're just a sad song with nothing to say About a life long wait for a hospital stay And if you think that I'm wrong, This never meant nothing to ya"[/align] Disappointment sets in the place of laughs when they gradually notice there is no difference in the wrestler, at all. Looks spread through out them and murmurs about their leader as their eyes shift between the masked man in a suit and the pack boss. While disappointment is also on his features for a brief moment, the head one's face soon turns a bright red and rage starts to overcome his body language. The hold he maintains on the former champion's shoulder tightens and he grits his teeth, his eyes glaring holes into the back of EN #2's head. Chav #1: Mate, you deaf or some thing?! Still nothing from FIW's O.G. Ninja and it only serves to enhance the fury that is coursing through the man's veins by his expression. Chav #1: Yo! You daft nitwit, I'm talking to you! Few though they may be the drunken snickers from his friends over his inability to affect the masked man isn't helping matters. In fact, they seemingly are the reason that spurs him to tighten his hold on EN #2's shoulder further and pull back! Whipping the masked man around, he some how manages to sustain his initial positioning on the stool right down to his holding of the beer mug. Perhaps this is the final straw because the young man balls his free hand into a fist and throws a punch! Chav #1: Lil' prick! Gracefully Ninja tilts his head to the right side and merely watches the fist swing past him, and smash through the air. At such a pace this occurs it takes the drunken mind of the man even longer than usual to register what it is he sees, and before he knows it he falls forward. With a calm nature to his movements, EN #2 slides off of the stool and gets to his feet, not paying any mind to the man that is falling beside him. Nasty is the sound that is made when the young man's chin crashes down against the counter, and leaves him tumbling down to the floor. [align=center]"You're just a sad song with nothing to say About a life long wait for a hospital stay And if you think that I'm wrong, This never meant nothing to ya"[/align] Chav #2: Oi! You're asking for it now, blogan! [align=center]"At all, at all, at all, at all"[/align] More of them close in and swarm the masked man, each one throwing sloppy punches and kicks the best their bodies will allow. Each one the former champion shuffles out of the way of in a lively and vivid motion as if he's decided to dance to the song that is on the verge of ending. The second one of the lot misses his attempt to tackle EN #2’s left leg and gets a roundhouse kick to the face for his efforts that looks to cave in his face, momentarily at least. One by one the group falls over themselves and face plants onto the floor, and tries to scramble back up to repeat the process. The entire time the Second Generation Extreme Ninja hangs onto his mug and manages to ensure none of it's contents spills out. ??: Hold it! Whoa, whoa! Hang on a second! Suddenly a familiar voice calls out and brings the attention of the drunkards and causes Ninja to pause, and stand in place. He never actually bothers to look at the small man that walks up to them with his feathery black locks, and eye liner & black nails. Unlike his usual attire akin to a zebra, tonight he wears a tight buttoned up pink shirt & a pair of jeans. Carefully he gets between them and holds up a hand to both Extreme Ninja #2 and the group of Manchester natives, a weak smile on his features. J.J.: Can't we all just get along? Roars of protest come from the group of drunks at this suggestion, and the wrestler turned referee quickly waves his hand again for them to be quiet. J.J.: Alright, alright, how about this... Darting between the two parties, his eyes eventually land back solely on the group that look ready to rush forward any second now. J.J.: I pay for any drinks you guys have for the rest of the night and you leave my buddy alone, calling it even. Fair? Grumbles are initially all he gets as a response and then slowly a few nod their heads, picking up a few others still on the ground. They shuffle off to try and get back to their spot at the bar and get on that deal, already some of them start to get back into their rowdy mood. The FIW official watches the lot walk away and shakes his head, a small smile on his face and he shrugs his shoulders at the entire affair. J.J.: Oi veh... Night and day are the differences between the two men, Ninja already turning his back to the tinier man and makes his way back over to his stool. By the time J.J. turns around to look for his friend (of sorts), he finds that the former champion is sitting back at the stool. There is a small roll of his eyes and he folds his arms over his chest, staring at the masked man from behind him & tapping his foot. Despite his body gestures, the expression on his features is one of more amusement than annoyance at the Second Generation Extreme Ninja. J.J.: You're welcome. Guess I'll let you get back to your thoughts about this week and...other stuff... Turning around to leave, some thing seems to strike the official and he snaps his fingers when he recalls it. He swings back around hastily and opens his mouth only for his eyes to widen a little, and his mouth gradually close once more. Because of the distinct lack of any thing that resembles Extreme Ninja #2 now at the bar, all that remains is the untouched beer mug. FIW's official looks around and then smirks sadly, shaking his head again and letting out a small sigh. J.J.: Good luck this week... With that said the camera starts to fade into black, letting the visual and audio dissolve into nothingness... |
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