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Mentor No More; A Big Country/T.C. Promotion
Topic Started: Jul 21 2010, 02:05 AM (55 Views)
aaaantoine
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What it is.
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The scene opens just outside a gymnasium, barely lit by a lamp mounted over the doorway. Terry Cane and Jim make their exits from the building, talking to each other in their chummy fashion, until Jim elbows T.C. and points just off their path. T.C. and Jim stop walking as the camera zooms out and pans to reveal "Big Country" Rick Nuller standing in front of them, with his arms folded.

Big Country: How's it goin', Terry?

Terry's cheerfulness fades as he comes face to face with his former mentor.

T.C.: Hey, Rick.
Big Country: You didn't show up to our sparrin' session las' night.
T.C.: What? You didn't get the message?
Big Country: Oh, I did. I jus' wasn't sure you were in the right frame of mind when you said that.

He puts his arms down, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a granola bar.

Big Country: Granola?

Terry looks at Jim with a look of disgust on his face, then back at Rick.

T.C.: No, thanks.

Rick shrugs, unwraps the granola bar, and takes a bite. He chews it slowly, not enjoying the moment, but not spitting out the food, either. After a rough gulp, he speaks again.

Big Country: You ain't missin' nothin'. But anyway, you really buy into what Mr. Harlowe is sayin'?
T.C.: Yeah...

Terry steps away from his friend Jim and squares up with Rick, towering over him.

T.C.: I do.
Big Country: See, I don't think you realize jus' how much you've improved while trainin' with me. The trouble is, you've been up agains' some very talented individuals here in FIW. An' as time went on, you became better jus' as the caliber of your opponents also increased.

Now Terry folds his arms, while Rick casually speaks, not fearing anything.

Big Country: Look at some of the people you've fought time an' time again. Pyotr Sadovsky, for instance. He's a Dual Crown contender. Of course you didn't beat him. He's a very well conditioned athlete. Look at a lot of the matches you an' I had together. There were so many people in an' out of the ring, we--
T.C.: Stop making excuses! What has all the training done for me? I lost every single one of those matches! What good is your training doing me if I can't even win one god damned match? So, forget it. I'm done. Stop trying to convince me otherwise.

Rick looks up at Terry's angered face, and slowly nods his head.

Big Country: We didn't lose las' week. In fact, we were well on our way to winnin' it.
T.C.: Yeah, if your fat ass didn't shove off the ref.

Rick's temper begins to flare.

Big Country: Do you realize what Rufus stands for? There's no way I can let him an' his kind win! NO way! He-- He pushed the ref away first! An' the ref, he kept gettin' into the middle of it jus' as I was about to whip Rufus into a Powerbomb! What was I supposed to do, Terry!? What was I supposed to do?

Rick breathes heavily and flares his nostrils. Terry scoffs and shakes his head.

T.C.: There you go with your temper again. So much for leading by example.

He turns to Jim and waves him on.

T.C.: Let's go, Jim.

T.C. shoves past Rick Nuller with a hard shoulder, while Jim walks around Rick, following Terry. You can hear Jim talking and waving his hands franticlly at Terry, but you cannot make out what he is saying. Rick spins around and watches as they walk away. After a few moments of staring, Rick's phone rings. He pulls it from his pocket and puts it to his ear.

Big Country: Hey Doc. Wha's goin' on? . . . No, I'm not workin' out right now. . . .

Rick starts looking around. His temper crescendos gradually as the phone call progresses.

Big Country: Wha' do you mean "calm down"? I was jus' talkin' to-- . . . How do you know my heart rate's up? . . . You know somethin', Reggie? You should tell me when you install somethin' like that in my body.

Immediately he hangs up the phone and puts it back in his pocket. He continues to breathe heavily, and continues to look pissed, right up until his expression suddenly shifts to that of dread. He bends down, putting his hands on he knees to hold himself up as he continues to breathe heavily.

"Dude! You need help?"

Rick holds up his palm toward the camera, indicating two things: that firstly, the voice came from behind the camera, and secondly, Rick is telling that voice to wait. After a moment of evident pain, Rick's breathing slows down, and he returns to an upright position. After one last sigh, he glances toward the camera, and the scene cuts.
[align=center]<div style="max-height:120px; width: 100%; overflow:auto; border: 1px solid white;"><table style="font-size: 10px;"><tr><td style="width:50%; vertical-align:top; border-right: 1px solid white;">El Cuervo Blanco
Ignacio Esposito
The Internet Explorer!

Fighting Spirit Champion -- October 30, 2011 - January 29, 2012
Tag Team of the Month (with Blink) -- March 2011
Roleplay of the Month (Primo Giorno di Lavoro) -- February 2011
Part of Tie for Storyline of the Month -- February 2011


FIW Action News
Bringing you stupid and/or silly Weeks in Review... once upon a time.
</td><td style="vertical-align:top;" rowspan="2">"Big Country" Rick Nuller
356 lbs of Heart (also: fat, muscle, bones, ligaments, and other organs)

Participant in Match of the Year -- Deadlock, 2011
FIW's Face of the Year -- 2011
Participant in Storyline of the Month -- March 2011
Participant in Match of the Month -- March 2011
FIW's Face of the Year -- 2010
Roleplay of the Year/Month (It's Time For a Montage!) -- March 2010
Fighting Spirit Champion -- May 30, 2010 - August 22, 2010
Runner-up PPV Match of the Year (Fighting Spirit Championship: Max Rowley vs. Rick Nuller) -- Deadlock (May 30th, 2010)
Runner-up Feud of the Year (Rick Nuller vs. Max Rowley) -- 2010
Storyline of the Month -- July 2010
Superstar of the Month -- May, June 2010
Roleplay of the Month (The Big Fantastic ... uh ... Carner Brigade) -- April 2010
</td></tr></table></div>[/align]
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That Darn Seph
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The High Elevation Sensation!
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Rufus: "Roy! Roy! Get in here! He's dying! He's fucking dying!"

The scene cuts in to the luxurious log cabin of Rufus Harlowe, the fire isn't going but there's no need! The sun's beaming in through the large windows, Rufus is sitting in his leather recliner, but he's at the edge of his seat! It seems he's watching the latest Rick Nuller promo, and it seems Rufus is at the part where Rick's heart rate is running wild like Hulkamania in the eighties. Rufus is wearing a white tank top and a pair of sweats, Roy walks in wearing a rather fluffy feminine apron holding a spatula.

Rufus: "I'm going to win the championship and not even have to lift a finger! It's Anarchy In the UK all over again! Ha ha....Oh...He's still alive. At least I think so...I haven't seen any reports of death in the last couple of days...and that kind of news travels fast. So it seems our ol' pal Rick isn't following Catherine Neville and RIcky Wright into the light."

Rufus chuckles, Roy tilts his head in interest.

Rufus: "Good! I'm glad his heart is holding out! I need him alive! I don't want to win my first Championship on account of Rick Nuller KO'ing himself due to poor conditioning! Best take care of yourself Rick! You've got a lot to live for my friend, and to see you piss it away because that useless piece of trash known as Terry Cane."

Rufus tugs at his beard, and then looks at his son, then down at his flamboyant apron.

Rufus: "..."

Roy looks around the room, and then back up to his dad.

Roy: "What?"

Rufus' eyes grow heavy, as he narrows his eyes at the boy.

Rufus: "..."

If an Eagle was soaring high above in the clouds, you would hear it shriek. Alas, there is no eagle. Bummer.

Roy: "Stop that."

Rufus: *stares at Roy*

Roy: "What? Do I got something on my face?"

Roy rubs his hand on his face, looks down at his steel spatula and uses it as a mirror to investigate himself. Roy seeing nothing is wrong with the face God gave him turns his attention back to his dad.

Roy: "What!? Quit staring at me! "

Rufus: *Stares at Roy*

Roy: "KNOCK IT OFF!"

Rufus: "What the fuck are you wearing?"

Roy looks down at his apron, tugging at one of the straps over his shoulder.

Roy: "This? It's mom's."

Rufus grunts.

Rufus: "Are you mom?"

Roy's eyes dart from side to side.

Roy: "Uh...no?"

Rufus growls, his brows furrowing into his glowering eyes.

Rufus: "Get that shit off of you, and hurry the fuck up with my pancakes dammit! I'm a man! And a man wants his pancakes in the morning...Little butter...and some mother fucking MAPLE syrup. Don't give me that pussy Blueberry shit...I want me some syrup with the BALLS to give me taste buds a sensation."

Roy stands there, slowly taking off the frilly pink apron and Rufus slams his fist into the arm of his chair.

Rufus: "STOP STANDING THERE AND GET ME A BEER!"

Roy scrambles in place, promptly turning around and skedaddles out of the room. That's right, Skedaddle! Rufus grits his teeth, and tightly clenches his fist before turning his attention back to the television set.

Rufus: "But this is good...Good from an opponent's perspective. Rick, I wish you all the best in your health. I hope it all clears up for you, but a veteran to veteran heart to heart aside....You're going to wish you had something that would've put you in the hospital before this Sunday...because that's where I'm looking to point scum like you. Give you more time to think of what a failure you've become. A failure of a champion. A failure of a mentor...and now you're going to face failure yet again at the end of my face. Why the end of my face? Because when it connects to your jaw this Sunday as the end result of a DOOM fist...You're going to be a FAILURE in the ability to stay conscious."

Rufus chuckles, looking off camera and slowly traces Roy who comes back into frame and hands his dad a beer.

Rufus: "Is this SHIT open!?"

Rufus says, grabbing the beer and investigates the top. He gives a smart ass chuckle, drumming his finger in the direction of Roy.

Rufus: "Good boy."

Rufus brings the aluminum can to his lips and takes a hardy swig.

Rufus: "Ahhh! Good shit! Double time on those pancakes."

Rufus says snapping his fingers, Roy charges out of the room with a full head of steam.

Rufus: " Now...Rick, have you said your goodbyes to the title? I don't want you to become too sore when you see me raise that belt over your carcass. Of course you won't be able to feel anything on account of being knocked out. But hey, it'll be okay. It's going to be all fine though, I'll be the new Fighting Spirit Champion. The kids will finally have somebody to look up to, and will own up to all of his fallacies. The one who speak the truth, and finally give them the honest word. You? You will go back to losing weight. You're welcome to re-challenge as quickly as you want...but after your defeat you should invest in your health. You should take some time to lose some weight...and fight me when you're even better then you are now. Because I know your future! YOUR FUTURE IS DEFEAT! You will LOSE this Sunday! Prepare yourself Rick. The last days of your F-S-C reign are coming to an end."

Rufus claps his hands in delight.

Rufus: "Oh, I am feeling so elated. I'm excited! It's been a long time since I've tasted gold...Hopefully the gold isn't too greasy from your dirty hands...I'm probably going to have to refurbish that belt, you've probably got the fine quality leather peeling with that sweaty waist. Ugh. I don't care the cost, I'm going to refurbish it just so I don't even have to be reminded of your lard ass when I look down at it."

Rufus chuckles.

Rufus: "Yes, that will be excellent. The smell of fresh leather has me elated! I can't wait to strip you of that belt, and I can't wait to refurbish that belt. It will be excellent...Most excellent."

Rufus tents his fingers like Mr. Burns.

Rufus: "But yes....What was I talking about? Oh right. The failure Rick Nuller. A bad influence to kids? Yeah, I've already established that. I was planning on going to a BBBBQ...But Seriously...I wouldn't be caught dead in one of those mockery to consumerism. So...I think I'll myself the favor and wash my hands of you this Sunday. I look to knock you out, and do the FIW a big favor. See you Sunday Rick."

Rufus turns his head to the kitchen off screen.

Rufus: "HURRY THE FUCK UP WITH THEM PANCAKES BOY!"

Rufus turns his head back to the television, and another Rick Nuller promo begins.

Rufus:THE FUCK!? He's still alive!? And he's making more videos!? God DAMMIT! I have to watch this shit now!?

END
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