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| Prelude in C Minor; ~Carson Rayne~ | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 21 2009, 01:28 AM (45 Views) | |
| Big Daddy Pimp Splendiferious | Mar 21 2009, 01:28 AM Post #1 |
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Man: What the piss is a Flycore Title? This random voice that is unknown to FIW fans, rings out with irritation and annoyance all bundled up into one pestered voice. The cameras open up for FIW fans to find a young man in a earth toned hooded jacket as he speaks to some random suit. While the suit is clearly some pencil necked paper pusher, the man looming over him is clearly another issue. This man is clearly an athlete, toned muscles ripple under his shirt without being too absurdly grotesque. Despite his boyish Hollywood looks, his eyes carry a certain swagger of a man who has tested his skill in battle and survived to tell the tale. His long hair is tied back neatly in a ponytail and drapes between his shoulder blades. Now this unknown man and this random paper pusher appear to be having this conversation we have stumbled across, in some sort of sound booth studio. Recording equipment lies on one side of thick pane glass while an open sound stage with a large microphone hanging down is on the other side. Man: I don’t understand why I have to do it this way. This isn’t how I normally do my promos. Paper Pusher Guy: I told you already Mister Rayne, this situation is no longer about what you want. You are being sent out as a representative of Neo-Gothic Industrial Wrestling and as such, Mister Ofdensen has asked that make this announcement in an official capacity. Man: Well I still think Mister Ofdensen is a jag off. Paper Pusher Guy: Be that as it may, you have been hand selected to represent NGIW and perhaps restore a bit of honor for your company. You should be thankful for such an opportunity. Man: Thankful? Honored? Who the hell do you think I am boy? I don’t do thankful or honored. We both know that old Brendon could give two shits about me as a person, he just sees me as a useful tool. I mean granted I am willing to let him use me in this case as it fits my needs, but let’s not delude ourselves in some sort of false reality of inter-promotional battles and lost honor in fallen titles now. Paper Pusher Guy: As you wish. Now take this cue card and have a seat please. With a very obvious sneer and disgruntled compliance, the man snatches the index cards from the suit before turning to seat on a small stool. The skinny man in the suit exits the sound booth and comes around to the digital side of things. Staring down at the various words blotted down for him, the good looking rogue shakes his head as he reviews his lines. The man in the suit taps on the glass to get our subject of the piece to look up. When he does, a third man, probably the sound manager or some such, signals to begin. Man: So I just read these cards? Paper Pusher Guy: Yes, we will record both sound and video to air various vigettes on FIW and NGIW’s networks. Man: Hmm, sound fairly important. Paper Pusher Guy: Indeed it is, this will be the first inter-promotional championship match in quite a long time for both companies. Man: Yeah, I don’t really care. Paper Pusher Guy: Fine, just read the cards whenever you are ready then. Man: Do I have to read this crap? Can’t I just simply say that Nick…whoever is going to get his ass kicked? Paper Pusher Guy: You agreed to this already. Man: Yeah but I didn’t realize I would have to become such a toolbox. This whole playing things up isn’t really my style. Paper Pusher Guy: We are sending a message for the whole world to see. Man: Won’t it be enough of a message when I kick this dude’s teeth in and take the Fly-Chord title back to NGIW? Paper Pusher Guy: It’s Flycore Championship and no, we want everyone to be watching when you do it. Man: Paw. I am going to go get a glass of water before we start. Turning away from the glass, the man stands up and exits through a side door towards the back. Standing there with his jaw hanging open, the suit seems annoyed at the flippant nature of the other man. Paper Pusher Guy: This booth costs two hundred dollars an hour to rent out. Damn it. |
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12:56 AM Jul 11
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12:56 AM Jul 11