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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 27 2009, 09:51 PM (42 Views) | |
| Poi | Mar 27 2009, 09:51 PM Post #1 |
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We star-wipe open to a large dining hall. Soft harpsichord music is playing through the hall and there are many well dressed gentlemen with their well dressed lady friends dancing away. A host of celebrity guests flank the hallways, or at least impersonators. A passing sign reveals that we are at an event hosted by Blake Orange in celebration of him winning FIW's Undisputed International Championship. A little premature? Yes. We pan around the beautiful display of civility and manners, until we come across a tall flame haired Irishman in an ill fitting tuxedo chatting away at two women who appear to be Emma Caulfield and Sarah Michelle Geller. Harrison O'Reily: ...so I says back to him; "...it's better than the pig I just tried to f**k!!" Harrison guffaws loudly as the women look on at him disgusted. A hand rests on Harrison's shoulders as the Irishman turns around, it's his stablemate and host - Blake Orange. Blake is wearing a mighty tuxed that wraps around his body perfectly, almost choking him, although he's in his absolute element. Harrison O'Reily: Oh hiya boss... I was just tellin' these girls a lil joke... Blake Orange: Come now Harrison, that type of crude humor might be acceptable at The Shamrock Club but I'm sure these ladies have more taste. The girls shrug and walk away in disgust. Blake Orange: Walk with me Harrison. Blake and Harrison make their way across the hallway, being handed to crystal glasses of champagne as they stroll by a rather scruffy looking waiter. Blake Orange: You know something Harrison, I never tire of this country. When I think the natives can't look any uglier, I see one that surpasses them all and I'm proud to have American blood in me. We truly are the elite in the global society. Harrison looks a little offended but is distracted by the same waiter with more champagne. He appears to be following Blake and Harrison. Harrison eyes him suspiciously. Blake Orange: And whats more--!! Harrison O'Reily: Gotcha!! Harrison grapples with the waiter and presses him up against the wall, dropping champage bottles and expensive crap everywhere. The guests are shocked at the behaviour of the dirty Irishman, but Miss Oatlash soon ushers them all into the next room for the evening's entertainment. This leaves us with Harrison, Blake and our mysterious waiter. Blake Orange: O'Reily... you'd better have a damn good reason for this. Harrison O'Reily: Look boss... Harrison rips off the waiter's glasses and his moustache comes off with it. Harrison O'Reily: It's Bostock again... Toby Bostock: Hi... Blake sighs. Blake Orange: Toby Bostock... once again you have found a way to infiltrate my security and once again it has taken only Harrison O'Reily to sniff you out. I must say I'm impressed with your determination. Are we on chance number twenty-five? Toby Bostock: Twenty-six actually... Blake Orange: Silence. What is it you want? Toby Bostock: Do you have to ask? Blake Orange: I wouldn't waste my time Bostock. Toby Bostock: Yeah, right sure... erm... well I guess first question is; what is all this? Blake survey's the hall and the party. Blake Orange: I am a busy man Bostock. The very same night that Anarchy In The UK is being held, I am due to fly to Washington to meet President Obama about declaring war on Iran. Naturally these are very important to me and as such, I cannot hold myself a Congratulatory Ball the same night. So I am doing it tonight Bostock. After Sunday, you will never see Blake Orange without the Undisputed International Championship across his shoulder. Toby Bostock: What did you make of Drake Love's claim that neither you, nor Sean Madrox can defeat him one on one? Blake Orange: Well Drake would say that, wouldn't he? The man is always looking for excuses for his shortcomings. "Waah!! You are not better than Drake Love, Blake... never!! Fluke! Fluke! Fluke!". I suppose you could call everything about the man a fluke. His entire career has been one unhappy accident and Drake knows this. Without the Rejects making him look good, Drake is nothing. Dead weight sailing on the good ship FIW. Not six months ago I bloodied Drake's ugly face. I subjected him to a beating of such magnitude that he had never felt anything like that before... nor since, until Anarchy In The UK: 2009. Toby Bostock: And what about Sean Madrox... the two of you haven't really been seeing eye to eye recently... Blake Orange: What happened between Sean Madrox and I was an unfortunate mistake. Sometimes I underestimate my reach and... well, you all saw what happened. After the match he and I shared a handshake and went out on the town. There is no problem between Sean Madrox and I... and even if there were, well we all saw what happened didn't we Bostock? Toby nods. Toby Bostock: Uh huh, yeah. So you are fully prepared going into this battle? Blake Orange: I am ever anything other Bostock? I have the main advantage going in. I have come through my Trial Series ablaze. My momentum cannot be halted by Sean Madrox and certainly not by Drake Love. Drake is far too preocupied with his bizarre theory that Smarty Smark is sending "goons" after him. If Drake is willing to live in denial about losing a second championship belt to me then let him. For after Anarchy In The UK - SS&S will lay claim to all the gold in FIW that truly matters... and you can bank on that Bostock you little piss ant. Seems Blake's benevolent phase is over. Blake tips the nod to Harrison who hoists Toby on his shoulder and throws him out a side window. Blake's sadistic smile never fades, but we do. |
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