04-08-2019, 09:33 AM
04-09-2019, 01:20 PM
Tribute
The scene rises up outside of what appears to be a High School. Kids are busy going inside for another day of studies. There’s your typical jocks in their letterman jackets, cheerleaders who perpetually wear their cheerleader uniforms all the time for some reason, the nerds getting their textbooks – which had been delicately stacked one upon the other – slapped to the ground by leather-clad, backwards ballcap-wearing bullies. And Derek Adonis steps onto the curb, dressed as one of the typical jocks himself. His jacket, adorned with an embroidered “DA” logo, rests upon his violently-neon green shirt. He looks to the school, hands on his hips, as he nods his head.
Adonis: “This is it…”
But the cameraman, who today is represented by a disembodied voice of someone non-spectacular, can only express confusion.
Cameraman: “What… what is it?”
Derek turns to the camera, a somewhat sombre expression on his face. His hair has a ludicrous amount of gel spiking the front up.
Adonis: “It’s a high school. You don’t have any sort of court order prohibiting you from being within a certain distance of one, do you? Because that would kind of blow the whole tribute.”
Cameraman: “We’re doing a tribute?”
Adonis: “To my old pal, LP.”
Cameraman: “You mean…”
Adonis: “That’s right. D-Money from the most happening high school in the 90210 area code. I was touched when watching him seamlessly go through high school. You know we attended at the same time?”
Cameraman: “You went to…”
Adonis: “Well, not that specific high school. But I saw D go through the same things Man Mountain experienced in high school, so it was like we attended together. We were kindred. We were very alike people.”
Cameraman: “You know that was a show, right?”
Derek pauses, having his bubble of nostalgia proverbially burst by the cameraman’s grounding in reality. He gives a look of derision, shaking his head.
Adonis: “It’s not the fact or fiction that matters. It’s the relatable teenage experience that LP got to live well into his 20’s. It was an inspiration, so I wanted to come out here and pay tribute. Where’s Cookie?”
Derek looks around, attempting to spot his unlikely wife until he does. Cookie enters the scene dressed in a cheerleader outfight, which she pulls at.
Cookie: “I don’t think this outfit is tight enough.”
Derek surveys her, going to great lengths to examine each seam between where fabric ends and flesh begins. He slides a finger between the end and her shoulder (don’t get any ideas people… or do), nodding in agreement as he does.
Adonis: “You’re right. Where are the costume people!?”
A man with thick-rimmed glasses, perfectly coifed hair, and prominent eyebrows enters the scene holding a needle and thread.
Adonis: “Could you make sure this fits a little more snuggly?”
Costumer: “Are you sure, sir? We’re as tight as we can get while having zero risk of losing blood circulation.”
Derek looks to Cookie.
Cookie: “I can probably do with a 20-30% chance.”
Derek looks back to the costumer.
Adonis: “Make it happen, buddy! And don’t worry about escape. I’m looking forward to peeling that outfit off of Cookie later. Heh heh… KABLAM!”
Costumer: “Yes… yes… “KABLAM!”…”
Cookie and the costumer go out of the shot, presumably to tighten her cheerleader outfit just a bit more, as Derek looks to the high school.
Adonis: “Yep… a lot of good times here. But also, some not good times. Like when Rick shot Jimmy and put him in a wheelchair. Or Emma’s herpes scare? That was a real shocker. And how could anyone forget the time that poor Paige was sexually assaulted at that party, then drove her brother’s car into her rapists’ car?”
Cameraman: “Um… Derek?”
Adonis: “What? You do NOT interrupt a man who is reminiscing! SO rude!”
Cameraman: “Derek, those were Degrassi: The Next Generation plots.”
Adonis: “...”
Derek is stunned into silence.
Adonis: “You mean…”
Cameraman: “Luke Perry was never on Degrassi.”
Adonis: “Huh…”
He ponders it some more.
Adonis: “What about…?”
Cameraman: “Degrassi.”
Adonis: “Right.”
He looks around, nodding his head as he does.
Adonis: “Welp… my job is done here.”
Derek goes to exit the scene, which fades to black.
696969696969696969696969696969
“I was happy.
I was happy doing my own thing, staying in my own bubble outside of the SCW machine. I was making mad bank and spreading KABLAMawareness the world over! I was the SCW CHAMPION of Television! I had my beautiful, buxom bride by my side. I had my best friend watching my back. But little did I know that, while he was watching my back, what Manvel was really watching for was the right spot in which to plunge the knife into it.
Sigh.
I can handle it, though. I am used to being the butt of other people’s jokes. I am used to being used for other people to step up. But I never thought my best friend would be one of those people. At any time… at ANY TIME… he could have come to me and talked about his problems. He could have been open and communicated with me! Any good marriage therapist would tell you that. Believe me… I’ve been for more than one marriage. Instead, he decided to stab me in the back, pushing Tommy Valentine out of the way and saving him from KABLAM, costing me the CHAMPIONSHIP of Television. This was January. We’re now in April depending on what time difference may be between me saying these words right now in April and you watching them. You could watch it in a week prior to my next match… or in three months from now… and nothing would have changed. Manvel will still have betrayed the Golden Triangle.
And it sucks. It really does, and not in the fun KABLAM-sanctioned way. Because I thought we would be together forever. And after two pay per views… TWO… where I defeated Manvel, nothing has changed. There has been no defining moment. There was nothing. So now I have to do something else. And that’s where Total Terror comes in.
Hey Matt… you seem like a nice dude, kind of chill. In another time, I would be offering you tips from the KABLAMasutra. I would be espousing the virtues of KABLAMaerobics, and telling you about how you, too, can win when you use it! But I’m not going to do any of those things… not today. Why? Because I am CHEESED OFF - which is NOT as delicious as it sounds - and looking to start things back on the right path! And more than that…
Total Terror, I want you to go out and purchase some of Manvel’s Man-Oil before our match. Yes, I want you to financially and commercially support the competition. I want you to take a handful of that oil and use it to lather yourself up. Get it in there good… smooth out the crevices. Make sure you exude the scent of Man-Oil. And when you’re satisfied, come to the ring at Tabula Rasa. Step between the ropes and prepare to face me. Because when you’re covered with Man-Oil, I’ll do to you exactly what I intend on doing to Manvel for all he has done.
For betraying me.
For kicking Cookie.
For making LEGIONS of KABLAMacolytes cry.
I’m going to make you my female dog… IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!
KABLAM!!”
The scene rises up outside of what appears to be a High School. Kids are busy going inside for another day of studies. There’s your typical jocks in their letterman jackets, cheerleaders who perpetually wear their cheerleader uniforms all the time for some reason, the nerds getting their textbooks – which had been delicately stacked one upon the other – slapped to the ground by leather-clad, backwards ballcap-wearing bullies. And Derek Adonis steps onto the curb, dressed as one of the typical jocks himself. His jacket, adorned with an embroidered “DA” logo, rests upon his violently-neon green shirt. He looks to the school, hands on his hips, as he nods his head.
Adonis: “This is it…”
But the cameraman, who today is represented by a disembodied voice of someone non-spectacular, can only express confusion.
Cameraman: “What… what is it?”
Derek turns to the camera, a somewhat sombre expression on his face. His hair has a ludicrous amount of gel spiking the front up.
Adonis: “It’s a high school. You don’t have any sort of court order prohibiting you from being within a certain distance of one, do you? Because that would kind of blow the whole tribute.”
Cameraman: “We’re doing a tribute?”
Adonis: “To my old pal, LP.”
Cameraman: “You mean…”
Adonis: “That’s right. D-Money from the most happening high school in the 90210 area code. I was touched when watching him seamlessly go through high school. You know we attended at the same time?”
Cameraman: “You went to…”
Adonis: “Well, not that specific high school. But I saw D go through the same things Man Mountain experienced in high school, so it was like we attended together. We were kindred. We were very alike people.”
Cameraman: “You know that was a show, right?”
Derek pauses, having his bubble of nostalgia proverbially burst by the cameraman’s grounding in reality. He gives a look of derision, shaking his head.
Adonis: “It’s not the fact or fiction that matters. It’s the relatable teenage experience that LP got to live well into his 20’s. It was an inspiration, so I wanted to come out here and pay tribute. Where’s Cookie?”
Derek looks around, attempting to spot his unlikely wife until he does. Cookie enters the scene dressed in a cheerleader outfight, which she pulls at.
Cookie: “I don’t think this outfit is tight enough.”
Derek surveys her, going to great lengths to examine each seam between where fabric ends and flesh begins. He slides a finger between the end and her shoulder (don’t get any ideas people… or do), nodding in agreement as he does.
Adonis: “You’re right. Where are the costume people!?”
A man with thick-rimmed glasses, perfectly coifed hair, and prominent eyebrows enters the scene holding a needle and thread.
Adonis: “Could you make sure this fits a little more snuggly?”
Costumer: “Are you sure, sir? We’re as tight as we can get while having zero risk of losing blood circulation.”
Derek looks to Cookie.
Cookie: “I can probably do with a 20-30% chance.”
Derek looks back to the costumer.
Adonis: “Make it happen, buddy! And don’t worry about escape. I’m looking forward to peeling that outfit off of Cookie later. Heh heh… KABLAM!”
Costumer: “Yes… yes… “KABLAM!”…”
Cookie and the costumer go out of the shot, presumably to tighten her cheerleader outfit just a bit more, as Derek looks to the high school.
Adonis: “Yep… a lot of good times here. But also, some not good times. Like when Rick shot Jimmy and put him in a wheelchair. Or Emma’s herpes scare? That was a real shocker. And how could anyone forget the time that poor Paige was sexually assaulted at that party, then drove her brother’s car into her rapists’ car?”
Cameraman: “Um… Derek?”
Adonis: “What? You do NOT interrupt a man who is reminiscing! SO rude!”
Cameraman: “Derek, those were Degrassi: The Next Generation plots.”
Adonis: “...”
Derek is stunned into silence.
Adonis: “You mean…”
Cameraman: “Luke Perry was never on Degrassi.”
Adonis: “Huh…”
He ponders it some more.
Adonis: “What about…?”
Cameraman: “Degrassi.”
Adonis: “Right.”
He looks around, nodding his head as he does.
Adonis: “Welp… my job is done here.”
Derek goes to exit the scene, which fades to black.
696969696969696969696969696969
“I was happy.
I was happy doing my own thing, staying in my own bubble outside of the SCW machine. I was making mad bank and spreading KABLAMawareness the world over! I was the SCW CHAMPION of Television! I had my beautiful, buxom bride by my side. I had my best friend watching my back. But little did I know that, while he was watching my back, what Manvel was really watching for was the right spot in which to plunge the knife into it.
Sigh.
I can handle it, though. I am used to being the butt of other people’s jokes. I am used to being used for other people to step up. But I never thought my best friend would be one of those people. At any time… at ANY TIME… he could have come to me and talked about his problems. He could have been open and communicated with me! Any good marriage therapist would tell you that. Believe me… I’ve been for more than one marriage. Instead, he decided to stab me in the back, pushing Tommy Valentine out of the way and saving him from KABLAM, costing me the CHAMPIONSHIP of Television. This was January. We’re now in April depending on what time difference may be between me saying these words right now in April and you watching them. You could watch it in a week prior to my next match… or in three months from now… and nothing would have changed. Manvel will still have betrayed the Golden Triangle.
And it sucks. It really does, and not in the fun KABLAM-sanctioned way. Because I thought we would be together forever. And after two pay per views… TWO… where I defeated Manvel, nothing has changed. There has been no defining moment. There was nothing. So now I have to do something else. And that’s where Total Terror comes in.
Hey Matt… you seem like a nice dude, kind of chill. In another time, I would be offering you tips from the KABLAMasutra. I would be espousing the virtues of KABLAMaerobics, and telling you about how you, too, can win when you use it! But I’m not going to do any of those things… not today. Why? Because I am CHEESED OFF - which is NOT as delicious as it sounds - and looking to start things back on the right path! And more than that…
Total Terror, I want you to go out and purchase some of Manvel’s Man-Oil before our match. Yes, I want you to financially and commercially support the competition. I want you to take a handful of that oil and use it to lather yourself up. Get it in there good… smooth out the crevices. Make sure you exude the scent of Man-Oil. And when you’re satisfied, come to the ring at Tabula Rasa. Step between the ropes and prepare to face me. Because when you’re covered with Man-Oil, I’ll do to you exactly what I intend on doing to Manvel for all he has done.
For betraying me.
For kicking Cookie.
For making LEGIONS of KABLAMacolytes cry.
I’m going to make you my female dog… IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!
KABLAM!!”