Post by Freakke on Apr 9, 2010 15:19:21 GMT -6
North Charleston Colliseum, a few hours before the beginning of Suspense, Freakke the Carnival King was bouncing around trying to get his blood going. Sitting on a crate near him, swinging her legs outward, was his manager Ms. Fitte. They were talking about something that had both of them smiling, but nothing more could be told about what was being said. He stopped bouncing and picked her up in a large hug. He put her down after a moment and the two began to walk away. The camera started to follow them and eventually they all wound up in the locker room. Freakke tossed his gym bag into his locker and turned around and finally noticed the camera.
"Oh, hi. Well, I suppose we need to do some work sometimes. Hello and welcome to the locker room. I, as you probably know, am Freakke the Carnival King and this is my lovely assisstant, Ms. Fitte."
She did a curtsy and he clapped for her as the camera shifted back to him.
"Anyhow, tonight I'm facing a schizophrenic sociopath who has issues with the people with whom employ him. Almost reminds me of that one book I read once that they made into a movie. What was it? Blue Wagon? No. Dead Flagon? Nah. Maybe it was Crimson Lizard? It's on the tip of my tongue but I can't think of it."
Behind him Ms. Fitte has already placed her head in hands. Freakke shakes it off and looks back to the camera.
"Anyhow, me and Harold Campbell are stepping in the ring tonight and it's a hardcore match. I'm pretty sure he's gonna wanna go all psycho killer on me. I saw his last promo and I have to ask...were those real cops? What I mean is, this guy apparently needs some help. I can recommend a good Doctor if all of you nCw fans know what I'm saying. Anyhow, I need to soften this guy up a little bit. I need to go all Sam Hill Hector on this guy. Thats not the name of the guy from Loudness of the Rams is it?"
Ms. Fitte shook her head and Freakke went back to thinking.
"It's not called Loudness of the Rams is it?"
Again, she shook her head no and he waved his hand getting back on track.
"Anyways, my point is this. The balls in Harold's court tonight. He's got half a mind set specifically for breaking other people's bones and using foreign objects is his forte. I'm not gonna lie, I need to be quick or I'll be dead. I'm no where near as good at being 'Hardcore'. Being quick and being smart can't be all I rely on or I will lose. I'll get hurt."
Freakke sat down on a steel chair. The camera focused down a bit more and a variety of weapons came into view. A barbed wire bat. A wooden plank. A box of thumb tacks. Steel chairs, a chain, and a pie all sat on top of the pile. He seemed not to notice them.
"If only there were some way to prepare for a match like this. I'd have no problem if I could. I mean I'd take a brass knuckle like this..."
He pulled one out of his pants pockets.
"And stick it in my pocket."
He put it back. Ms. Fitte sighed and shook her head again.
"And pull it out when the match starts, I'd be golden. Harold wouldn't stand a chance. I mean, if I stuffed each one of my many pockets full of weird and bizarre weapons I could use, I could just use this pair of nunchuks and ninja the crap out of Harold."
He pulled a pair of nunchuks out of his one pocket.
"If only I knew what was legal in a Hardcore Match with no Rules. Harold could emulate that Sandable book all he wanted. I'd just go all Horny the Clown on him."
He stopped and looked to Ms. Fitte again.
"I really need to go back reread those books."
"They made them into movies Freakke."
"Wait...there's movies?!? Who plays the creepy serial killer guy?"
"Anthony Hopkins."
"Huh...what about the FBI Agent...Maurice Starfish?"
Ms. Fitte looked to the camera and it focused on her.
"Long story short, Freakke's gonna be ready for the match tonight."
"What about the Pixie Dentist from the first book? Someone tell me why I can't remember this crap?!?"
"And thats all the time we have. Run now before it's too late."
"Oh, hi. Well, I suppose we need to do some work sometimes. Hello and welcome to the locker room. I, as you probably know, am Freakke the Carnival King and this is my lovely assisstant, Ms. Fitte."
She did a curtsy and he clapped for her as the camera shifted back to him.
"Anyhow, tonight I'm facing a schizophrenic sociopath who has issues with the people with whom employ him. Almost reminds me of that one book I read once that they made into a movie. What was it? Blue Wagon? No. Dead Flagon? Nah. Maybe it was Crimson Lizard? It's on the tip of my tongue but I can't think of it."
Behind him Ms. Fitte has already placed her head in hands. Freakke shakes it off and looks back to the camera.
"Anyhow, me and Harold Campbell are stepping in the ring tonight and it's a hardcore match. I'm pretty sure he's gonna wanna go all psycho killer on me. I saw his last promo and I have to ask...were those real cops? What I mean is, this guy apparently needs some help. I can recommend a good Doctor if all of you nCw fans know what I'm saying. Anyhow, I need to soften this guy up a little bit. I need to go all Sam Hill Hector on this guy. Thats not the name of the guy from Loudness of the Rams is it?"
Ms. Fitte shook her head and Freakke went back to thinking.
"It's not called Loudness of the Rams is it?"
Again, she shook her head no and he waved his hand getting back on track.
"Anyways, my point is this. The balls in Harold's court tonight. He's got half a mind set specifically for breaking other people's bones and using foreign objects is his forte. I'm not gonna lie, I need to be quick or I'll be dead. I'm no where near as good at being 'Hardcore'. Being quick and being smart can't be all I rely on or I will lose. I'll get hurt."
Freakke sat down on a steel chair. The camera focused down a bit more and a variety of weapons came into view. A barbed wire bat. A wooden plank. A box of thumb tacks. Steel chairs, a chain, and a pie all sat on top of the pile. He seemed not to notice them.
"If only there were some way to prepare for a match like this. I'd have no problem if I could. I mean I'd take a brass knuckle like this..."
He pulled one out of his pants pockets.
"And stick it in my pocket."
He put it back. Ms. Fitte sighed and shook her head again.
"And pull it out when the match starts, I'd be golden. Harold wouldn't stand a chance. I mean, if I stuffed each one of my many pockets full of weird and bizarre weapons I could use, I could just use this pair of nunchuks and ninja the crap out of Harold."
He pulled a pair of nunchuks out of his one pocket.
"If only I knew what was legal in a Hardcore Match with no Rules. Harold could emulate that Sandable book all he wanted. I'd just go all Horny the Clown on him."
He stopped and looked to Ms. Fitte again.
"I really need to go back reread those books."
"They made them into movies Freakke."
"Wait...there's movies?!? Who plays the creepy serial killer guy?"
"Anthony Hopkins."
"Huh...what about the FBI Agent...Maurice Starfish?"
Ms. Fitte looked to the camera and it focused on her.
"Long story short, Freakke's gonna be ready for the match tonight."
"What about the Pixie Dentist from the first book? Someone tell me why I can't remember this crap?!?"
"And thats all the time we have. Run now before it's too late."