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"A Three Megaton Hangover"
Topic Started: Dec 1 2011, 09:58 PM (34 Views)
Dai
Member Avatar
Captain SPARKLE~!!!
Creative Team
"Uurruughh..."

That is the sound of Mr. Blond waking up. Somehow, through all the scrabbling around, he remembers where his last can winded up: under his chair. Actually, this particularly snazzy sports-car looking chair, in the home team dug-out of the Camp Nou most likely belongs to the manager of Barcalona FC. Somehow, he remembered where the beer was, but not where he himself was. As far as he knows, he's still in his hotel room; but he seems to be swiftly cottoning on to the fact that this is not the case. The beer doesn't help the feeling in his mouth like rat shit in a desert; nor does it help his head, which seems to explode every time he moves. Nevertheless, it does help, somehow.

Mr.Bostock: Umm... Rough night, huh?

Neverthless, it's not making it any easier to deal with Toby Bostock, whose first thought when he was told that Blondie washed up at the stadium, was that he could get an interview. Half-heartedly, Katsuya launches the can in an attempt to ward him off but all he achieves with that is getting [cheap] beer over the hem of Bostock's trousers. Instantly, he regrets it.

Mr.Bostock: How'd you wind up here?

Mr. Blond: Fockin' fell off the floor, didn't Ah?

Poor Blondie doesn't have enough phlegm to spit in Bostock's general direction. His answer doesn't make a lot of sense, even to him.

Mr. Blond: Rook. Piss off.

Usually Dai's men from Nagoya are pretty good at getting their Ls and Rs straight. Not this time. He tries to spit one more time, but the motion is too much like throwing up for him to pursue the matter further. Toby is not pissing off.

Mr.Bostock: ...

Toby isn't leaving, but he sure as hell doesn't know what to say. Blondie's eyes narrow, and his professional instincts kick in. He lurches to his feet.

Mr. Blond: WORDS!

That was incredibly bombastic for a man with a three megaton hangover.

Mr. Blond: You want words, right? 'At's what it's about, right? Ah sit down with some videos, thinkin' Ah might...

He rolls his hand as he tries to find the right word. Not only that, his shoulders wobble, struggling to keep time with the hand.

Mr. Blond: Digest! da words of my "esteemed" fockin' opponents. Ah think a six-pack'd go down nice; so'at Ah may better respond in a suitable fockin' manner.

It's a sad fact, but he feels better able to deal with people, cut promos, and occasionally even step out under the bright lights to wrestle; after a couple of beers.

Mr. Blond: After five minutes, woah man. Ah'ma need somethin' stronger. WHISKEY!

The force of his own yell sends him slumping back into the chair.

Mr. Blond: Where'sat whiskey gone?

The author cannot be sure where the whiskey has gone [although he can make a pretty good guess;] but he knows that the bottles used to transport it have been broken down into tiny shards. Toby Bostock is standing in the middle of them.

Mr.Bostock: So you were watching Seigi Sentai's promos, and you decided that the only possible thing you could do to help you get through them all was get astonishingly drunk.

Toby has a grasp of the situation, and he is not impressed. It sounds like the punch-line to a terrible joke. Meh, they both know Katsuya just needed the excuse.

Mr. Blond: [I'd be quite happy living through the consequences, but you keep asking fucking stupid questions, you little twerp.]

Bostock has watched enough anime to know what "Kono bakayaro" means; even if he doesn't know the rest.

Mr. Blond: Right. I'm gonna grab my number for that...

Blondie gets to his feet, and turns to leave; and go find the drawing of the Cibernetico numbers. Toby shrugs to the camera, because frankly he doesn't have the heart to tell he's going the wrong way. Besides, to do so would just be an even more terrible joke.

Mr. Blond: [ [size0]Eh, whatever the fuck...]
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