Post by Austin Gale on Jan 3, 2017 17:56:51 GMT -5
Austin: “The art of the wrestling promo is an art that has been lost with time.”
The camera turns on to reveal Austin Gale standing in the centre of an old wrestling ring. The ring appears to be in a school gymnasium as the only seats appear to be bleachers. Wearing his tights, boots and a “Gale Force” shirt, Austin looks like he is ready for a match.
Austin: “Long gone are the times where a man would come down to the ring and talk shit about his opponent only to be interrupted by said opponent. Tensions would rise. Blood would boil. The fans would be on the edge of their seats wondering if they would be getting an early look at the upcoming match. Nowadays people just talk shit over email and then get frustrated when the other person doesn’t respond. Or they would talk smack while in a yoga class when there was no way for their opponents to respond. Sound familiar? Is this hitting a little close to home for our Resilience Champion? I know you prefer to talk in dingy gyms and the local Curves but come on. Where is the ring presence? Where is the showmanship? Can you do this in your office?”
Climbing up on the turnbuckle, Austin extends his arms as if he is basking in the cheers of the crowd. He raises his hand to his ear like the legends of yesterday. Hopping down, Austin walks the ring while running his hand along the ropes. He tops it all off by facing where the entrance ramp would be while doing the ‘Wear the belt’ gesture.
Austin: “Sure you could do it but you would look more foolish than a cock-eyed nun sucking dick for rent money. Sorry. I didn’t mean to say cock-eyed. I know that’s a touchy subject for you. Your eyes look fine, kid. Just listen to what your parents always told you growing up. It took a brother and sister falling in-love to make such a handsome little man like yourself. And if the girls in the school yard can’t see that then walk on down to the local brothel and see if Sinister Minister will rent you American Tommy for your 7 minutes in heaven. But I digress.”
Walking over to one of the ringsides, Austin grabs a hold of the ropes and uses them to stretch out his shoulders. He leans back on the rather ragged ropes looking as relaxed as someone could in a ring that is ready to fall apart with the next sneeze.
Austin: “Smack talk isn’t just about hurting your opponents ego or inflating your own. It’s about putting on a show for the fans. They pay their money to see their favourite wrestlers in action. $90 for a ticket. $12 for a hamburger without the fries. $13 for an overpriced draft beer that is completely necessary to suffer through another Hunter Storms match or to throw at S.O.B. while he shouts out racial profanities. They don’t spend that money so you can stand outside and talk to a brick wall just because your face happens to be on the rumble advertisement. Homeless people walk by and talking to themselves but still coming off more insane than the man muttering to himself about drawing number one. Talking to the Martin Luther King Jr. memorial as if you will get a response. You realize he is dead, right? The homeless man was probably coming to remind you of this fact. And while you sit in your study still waiting for an email from Benny, demonstrating an obsession only Eminem could come up with, you could be here. You could be walking down to this ring to respond like a man. Senile old man in tow. Your head cocked to the side ever trying to balance out your crooked eyes as your brother Sloth cheers for you backstage. We could wrestle our match with my lawyers on standby incase someone is unhappy with me beating up the handicapped. My hand would be raised and then we can move on. You can go back to talking to inanimate objects and waiting for Benny to call. And I will move on to the semi-finals of this never ending tournament. It would be like fastforwarding through the commercials to get back to the movie. But here we are. You’re at home probably jerking off to Magic Mike while my cameraman Mike sits here and listens to me rant. Sorry to make that comparison, Mike.”
Mike: “No problem. As long as he’s not at home jerking off to pictures of me.”
Austin: “Why would he ever? You’re a cameraman. Know your place.”
Lucid Dreams by Franz Ferdinand begins to play throughout the gymnasium speakers. The static makes it almost unbearable causing Austin to have to cover his ears. The doors get kicked open causing a large amount of dust to be kicked up. As the dust settles, Adam Wolfe can be seen standing in the doorway with a Zack Fantana puppet on his hand.
Fantuppet: “You have asked for your Fantanasy and I have arrived!”
Austin’s hand covers his face as he shakes his head. Strutting down to the ring, Wolfe slides in and puts the Fantuppet uncomfortably close to Austin’s face.
Austin: “We talked about this, Wolfe. I’m not talking to your puppet. That would be completely idiotic.”
Fantuppet: “There is no Wolfe here. Just the Fantanasy himself, Fantuppet! And it would not be idiotic otherwise you would be calling Wolfe an idiot too. Would you do that to your own brother?”
Wolfe played the brother card. Austin knew how emotional his brother got when people made fun of his puppets. And the last thing Austin wanted to do was be the spark that caused Genocide to make a comeback. He was stuck.
Austin: “Fine.”
He couldn’t believe he was about to do this. Austin was about to talk to a damn puppet and was being recorded for everyone to see. Humiliating.
Austin: “Listen you Forest Whitaker wannabe. You’ve beaten everyone who has been put in front of you. That’s no easy feat. But on top of that, you won a rumble defending your title against the entire Resilience division. Normally, that would be amazing. But to do that with your eyes on nearly a 45 degree angle giving you no depth perception, that’s down right phenomenal. For that, I tip my hat to you. But this is the Alpha Cup. A chance for you to demonstrate your skills against the entire AWE roster. A chance to go one on one with everyone and prove you’re the best. A chance to be eliminated from said tournament by yours truly.”
Wolfe: “That’s it! Show Wolfe your emotions.”
Austin: “What in the sweet merciful christ was the point of the puppet if you were immediately going to break character? It’s like investing your money in a company just to burn the company to the ground. A complete waste of time.”
Wolfe: “Sorry! Wolfe just got thinking about us finally tagging and Wolfe got excited. Can you believe that Wolfe is going to come out of retirement? Jessica is going to kill him!”
Austin: “You realize this is being recorded, right? Mike, can we cut that out?”
Mike: “AWE rules are that everything must be recorded. Sorry guys. The world is going to know Wolfe is returning.”
Austin runs his fingers through his hair as he turns his back to Wolfe. He begins to pace the ring as he thinks about what to do. Wolfe, looking nervous, stares at the Fantuppet on his hand. Looking back and forth between the puppet and Austin, Wolfe tries to break some of the tension.
Wolfe: “Did you hear the backstabber has joined AWE? Wolfe was certain he was dead. Apparently he is an Expert at escaping death. Wolfe is looking forward to finally getting his hands on him.”
Austin: “You realize if we tag you may not be able to face him, right? As much as I would like to get my hands on that excuse of a friend, it probably won’t happen. Besides, I have more important things to focus on right now. Sunday I will be standing across the ring from the Resilience Champion. The man who considers himself a Godsend to AWE. I wouldn’t be a smart businessman if I didn’t go into this with a plan. I’ll have to...what are you doing?”
While Austin had been talking, Wolfe had taken a seat in the ring. A sewing kit had appeared from God knows where and Wolfe was in the process of pulling off one of Fantuppet’s eyes.
Wolfe: “Wolfe is lowering one of Fantuppet’s eyes so it looks more like Fantana. Should it be next to his nose or next to his mouth?”
Austin: “Did you just make a joke about someone that didn’t sound like it came from a preschool classroom?”
Wolfe: “Franchinger thinks that Wolfe should toughen up. Wolfe has been working on being more aggressive on his time off. Wolfe wouldn’t have to do this if Zack had just accepted the plastic surgery money.”
Austin: “If anyone ever questioned if we were brother, they’re not anymore. Let’s get out of here. I have an appointment in Sloth’s lair.”
Wolfe: “Can we stop and see Benny on the way? Wolfe misses his Puppet Pal!”
Austin: “Sure. Maybe we can convince him to email Zack before he drives his car off a bridge. Oh, and put the eye next to his mouth.”
Wolfe starts to sew the eye in place as the camera fades to black.
The camera turns on to reveal Austin Gale standing in the centre of an old wrestling ring. The ring appears to be in a school gymnasium as the only seats appear to be bleachers. Wearing his tights, boots and a “Gale Force” shirt, Austin looks like he is ready for a match.
Austin: “Long gone are the times where a man would come down to the ring and talk shit about his opponent only to be interrupted by said opponent. Tensions would rise. Blood would boil. The fans would be on the edge of their seats wondering if they would be getting an early look at the upcoming match. Nowadays people just talk shit over email and then get frustrated when the other person doesn’t respond. Or they would talk smack while in a yoga class when there was no way for their opponents to respond. Sound familiar? Is this hitting a little close to home for our Resilience Champion? I know you prefer to talk in dingy gyms and the local Curves but come on. Where is the ring presence? Where is the showmanship? Can you do this in your office?”
Climbing up on the turnbuckle, Austin extends his arms as if he is basking in the cheers of the crowd. He raises his hand to his ear like the legends of yesterday. Hopping down, Austin walks the ring while running his hand along the ropes. He tops it all off by facing where the entrance ramp would be while doing the ‘Wear the belt’ gesture.
Austin: “Sure you could do it but you would look more foolish than a cock-eyed nun sucking dick for rent money. Sorry. I didn’t mean to say cock-eyed. I know that’s a touchy subject for you. Your eyes look fine, kid. Just listen to what your parents always told you growing up. It took a brother and sister falling in-love to make such a handsome little man like yourself. And if the girls in the school yard can’t see that then walk on down to the local brothel and see if Sinister Minister will rent you American Tommy for your 7 minutes in heaven. But I digress.”
Walking over to one of the ringsides, Austin grabs a hold of the ropes and uses them to stretch out his shoulders. He leans back on the rather ragged ropes looking as relaxed as someone could in a ring that is ready to fall apart with the next sneeze.
Austin: “Smack talk isn’t just about hurting your opponents ego or inflating your own. It’s about putting on a show for the fans. They pay their money to see their favourite wrestlers in action. $90 for a ticket. $12 for a hamburger without the fries. $13 for an overpriced draft beer that is completely necessary to suffer through another Hunter Storms match or to throw at S.O.B. while he shouts out racial profanities. They don’t spend that money so you can stand outside and talk to a brick wall just because your face happens to be on the rumble advertisement. Homeless people walk by and talking to themselves but still coming off more insane than the man muttering to himself about drawing number one. Talking to the Martin Luther King Jr. memorial as if you will get a response. You realize he is dead, right? The homeless man was probably coming to remind you of this fact. And while you sit in your study still waiting for an email from Benny, demonstrating an obsession only Eminem could come up with, you could be here. You could be walking down to this ring to respond like a man. Senile old man in tow. Your head cocked to the side ever trying to balance out your crooked eyes as your brother Sloth cheers for you backstage. We could wrestle our match with my lawyers on standby incase someone is unhappy with me beating up the handicapped. My hand would be raised and then we can move on. You can go back to talking to inanimate objects and waiting for Benny to call. And I will move on to the semi-finals of this never ending tournament. It would be like fastforwarding through the commercials to get back to the movie. But here we are. You’re at home probably jerking off to Magic Mike while my cameraman Mike sits here and listens to me rant. Sorry to make that comparison, Mike.”
Mike: “No problem. As long as he’s not at home jerking off to pictures of me.”
Austin: “Why would he ever? You’re a cameraman. Know your place.”
Lucid Dreams by Franz Ferdinand begins to play throughout the gymnasium speakers. The static makes it almost unbearable causing Austin to have to cover his ears. The doors get kicked open causing a large amount of dust to be kicked up. As the dust settles, Adam Wolfe can be seen standing in the doorway with a Zack Fantana puppet on his hand.
Fantuppet: “You have asked for your Fantanasy and I have arrived!”
Austin’s hand covers his face as he shakes his head. Strutting down to the ring, Wolfe slides in and puts the Fantuppet uncomfortably close to Austin’s face.
Austin: “We talked about this, Wolfe. I’m not talking to your puppet. That would be completely idiotic.”
Fantuppet: “There is no Wolfe here. Just the Fantanasy himself, Fantuppet! And it would not be idiotic otherwise you would be calling Wolfe an idiot too. Would you do that to your own brother?”
Wolfe played the brother card. Austin knew how emotional his brother got when people made fun of his puppets. And the last thing Austin wanted to do was be the spark that caused Genocide to make a comeback. He was stuck.
Austin: “Fine.”
He couldn’t believe he was about to do this. Austin was about to talk to a damn puppet and was being recorded for everyone to see. Humiliating.
Austin: “Listen you Forest Whitaker wannabe. You’ve beaten everyone who has been put in front of you. That’s no easy feat. But on top of that, you won a rumble defending your title against the entire Resilience division. Normally, that would be amazing. But to do that with your eyes on nearly a 45 degree angle giving you no depth perception, that’s down right phenomenal. For that, I tip my hat to you. But this is the Alpha Cup. A chance for you to demonstrate your skills against the entire AWE roster. A chance to go one on one with everyone and prove you’re the best. A chance to be eliminated from said tournament by yours truly.”
Wolfe: “That’s it! Show Wolfe your emotions.”
Austin: “What in the sweet merciful christ was the point of the puppet if you were immediately going to break character? It’s like investing your money in a company just to burn the company to the ground. A complete waste of time.”
Wolfe: “Sorry! Wolfe just got thinking about us finally tagging and Wolfe got excited. Can you believe that Wolfe is going to come out of retirement? Jessica is going to kill him!”
Austin: “You realize this is being recorded, right? Mike, can we cut that out?”
Mike: “AWE rules are that everything must be recorded. Sorry guys. The world is going to know Wolfe is returning.”
Austin runs his fingers through his hair as he turns his back to Wolfe. He begins to pace the ring as he thinks about what to do. Wolfe, looking nervous, stares at the Fantuppet on his hand. Looking back and forth between the puppet and Austin, Wolfe tries to break some of the tension.
Wolfe: “Did you hear the backstabber has joined AWE? Wolfe was certain he was dead. Apparently he is an Expert at escaping death. Wolfe is looking forward to finally getting his hands on him.”
Austin: “You realize if we tag you may not be able to face him, right? As much as I would like to get my hands on that excuse of a friend, it probably won’t happen. Besides, I have more important things to focus on right now. Sunday I will be standing across the ring from the Resilience Champion. The man who considers himself a Godsend to AWE. I wouldn’t be a smart businessman if I didn’t go into this with a plan. I’ll have to...what are you doing?”
While Austin had been talking, Wolfe had taken a seat in the ring. A sewing kit had appeared from God knows where and Wolfe was in the process of pulling off one of Fantuppet’s eyes.
Wolfe: “Wolfe is lowering one of Fantuppet’s eyes so it looks more like Fantana. Should it be next to his nose or next to his mouth?”
Austin: “Did you just make a joke about someone that didn’t sound like it came from a preschool classroom?”
Wolfe: “Franchinger thinks that Wolfe should toughen up. Wolfe has been working on being more aggressive on his time off. Wolfe wouldn’t have to do this if Zack had just accepted the plastic surgery money.”
Austin: “If anyone ever questioned if we were brother, they’re not anymore. Let’s get out of here. I have an appointment in Sloth’s lair.”
Wolfe: “Can we stop and see Benny on the way? Wolfe misses his Puppet Pal!”
Austin: “Sure. Maybe we can convince him to email Zack before he drives his car off a bridge. Oh, and put the eye next to his mouth.”
Wolfe starts to sew the eye in place as the camera fades to black.