Post by Curtis D. Kanyon on Nov 25, 2010 6:22:10 GMT -6
*We open in on the locker room of DDK as he sits with his misfits.*
DDK: I don't get it. I really don't.
GQ: Get what?
DDK: What the hell is happening!?
GQ: You mean the stuff between you and Adam?
DDK: What the hell are you talking about? No, I mean my match on Sunday. Are we or are we not going into a PPV weekend?
Obsidian: We are.
DDK: Okay, so I've got Ricky Johnson. Didn't I just beat Ricky Johnson in a three-way? Sure, another guy was there, but I gave him the BANG! and pinned him. As far as I'm concerned, I beat him already.
GQ: You did, so you can do it again.
DDK: But... I beat him already. Not only did I beat him soundly, but I'm not even facing him on the PPV.
Obsidian: Uh...hold on...
*Obsidian pulls out a paper.*
Obsidian: I don't...
DDK: NO NO NO! This is bull****! Bull**** Spencer, and you know it!
Obsidian: ...okay, this is definitely not in the script.
GQ: Reel it back buddy. Stay on--
DDK: No, I just performed in the match of the ****ing year last month. This is how I'm rewarded? I work the ****ing free-for-all against a has-been while a guy who lost a tournament gets handed a shot while I still wait for my rematch. Is that really the direction that this character goes in? I mean, who's writing this dribble!?
Director: CUT!
DDK: I'm sorry Martin, this, this just is not working!
*The camera pulls back to reveal DDK's locker room is actually a sound stage. Lights hang from the rafters and gaffers are scrambling around. A make-up artist comes in to touch up GQ.*
GQ: Thanks babe, have to keep this touched up for that queer look. Call me later though, I'll show you a good time.
*Martin Scorsese walks up to DDK.*
Martin: Now Diamond, what's wrong?
DDK: I just don't get it. What's my motivation here? I mean, my character is fighting this Ricky guy again. I mean, I remember last week I called him Dick, made some dick jokes, it served it's purpose, but what more is to do there? Can't we come up with something better?
Martin: This is the script Diamond. We don't have time to go back and rewrite at this point.
DDK: Well you should, this is ridiculous! I'm better than this!
Obsidian: You think it's ridiculous for you? I played Hamlet at Cambridge! I 'ave to pretend I ain't got an English accent. You know how bloody tiring all this is? Acting like everything's all Bob's yer uncle and runnin' around like a dunce.
Martin: We know Spencer, we're working on it.
GQ: You guys need to cool your jets and just go with the flow. Keep cool.
DDK: Sure, you can say that, you don't really do as much as me.
GQ: Here we go again. You're the star, we're just the back-up co-stars.
DDK: Damn right, know your place.
*GQ just shrugs. Obsidian starts drinking some tea.*
Obsidian: Just get on with your hissy fit right quick so we can get back to shootin' eh?
DDK: **** you.
Martin: Diamond, please.
DDK: No no, **** this. **** all ya'll. I'll perform on the free show, I'll peddle to the masses, make them want to buy the PPV with my showing. I'll carry this punk through another performance. But I will call my agent, and this will be fixed. All right, lets go with another take.
Martin: Really?
DDK: Yeah, I'm still getting paid. Let's do this. Get the stunt guy ready.
*A stunt man runs up holding a prop camera.*
Stunt Man: I feel honored to be the guy you BANG! tonight.
GQ: That was clever. Haven't heard that one before.
*DDK looks at the stunt man, then rolls his eyes.*
DDK: ...Martin.
Martin: Please don't talk to the talent.
*Martin walks behind camera and everyone gets back into place.*
Martin: In 5...4...3...
*Two more seconds, then DDK starts up.*
DDK: I don't get it. I really don't.
GQ: Get what?
DDK: What the hell is happening!?
*The scene gets blurry.*
*We fade to a dark room. Someone sits up.*
DDK: AHHH!
Esmerelda: ...wha...?
*DDK claps his hands and a light comes on. We see he's sitting up in bed next to his wife, who's wearing one of those eye mask things.*
Esmerelda: What is it dear?
DDK: I just had the strangest dream! It was wild. Martin Scorsese was there and Obsidian had an English accent.
Esmerelda: That's weird honey.
*She rolls over to try and go back to sleep.*
DDK: Am I in a match with Dick Johnson this weekend?
Esmerelda: I think so.
DDK: Okay. I can whoop his ass again. Is it on the free show?
Esmerelda: I think so.
DDK: Damn. Maybe I'll just beat him for so long that it carries over into the PPV.
Esmerelda: That's nice dear.
DDK: You don't care, do you?
Esmerelda: Make me.
DDK: That can be arranged.
*DDK gets a smirk on his face and claps again, turning off the light. The scene fades out.*
DDK: I don't get it. I really don't.
GQ: Get what?
DDK: What the hell is happening!?
GQ: You mean the stuff between you and Adam?
DDK: What the hell are you talking about? No, I mean my match on Sunday. Are we or are we not going into a PPV weekend?
Obsidian: We are.
DDK: Okay, so I've got Ricky Johnson. Didn't I just beat Ricky Johnson in a three-way? Sure, another guy was there, but I gave him the BANG! and pinned him. As far as I'm concerned, I beat him already.
GQ: You did, so you can do it again.
DDK: But... I beat him already. Not only did I beat him soundly, but I'm not even facing him on the PPV.
Obsidian: Uh...hold on...
*Obsidian pulls out a paper.*
Obsidian: I don't...
DDK: NO NO NO! This is bull****! Bull**** Spencer, and you know it!
Obsidian: ...okay, this is definitely not in the script.
GQ: Reel it back buddy. Stay on--
DDK: No, I just performed in the match of the ****ing year last month. This is how I'm rewarded? I work the ****ing free-for-all against a has-been while a guy who lost a tournament gets handed a shot while I still wait for my rematch. Is that really the direction that this character goes in? I mean, who's writing this dribble!?
Director: CUT!
DDK: I'm sorry Martin, this, this just is not working!
*The camera pulls back to reveal DDK's locker room is actually a sound stage. Lights hang from the rafters and gaffers are scrambling around. A make-up artist comes in to touch up GQ.*
GQ: Thanks babe, have to keep this touched up for that queer look. Call me later though, I'll show you a good time.
*Martin Scorsese walks up to DDK.*
Martin: Now Diamond, what's wrong?
DDK: I just don't get it. What's my motivation here? I mean, my character is fighting this Ricky guy again. I mean, I remember last week I called him Dick, made some dick jokes, it served it's purpose, but what more is to do there? Can't we come up with something better?
Martin: This is the script Diamond. We don't have time to go back and rewrite at this point.
DDK: Well you should, this is ridiculous! I'm better than this!
Obsidian: You think it's ridiculous for you? I played Hamlet at Cambridge! I 'ave to pretend I ain't got an English accent. You know how bloody tiring all this is? Acting like everything's all Bob's yer uncle and runnin' around like a dunce.
Martin: We know Spencer, we're working on it.
GQ: You guys need to cool your jets and just go with the flow. Keep cool.
DDK: Sure, you can say that, you don't really do as much as me.
GQ: Here we go again. You're the star, we're just the back-up co-stars.
DDK: Damn right, know your place.
*GQ just shrugs. Obsidian starts drinking some tea.*
Obsidian: Just get on with your hissy fit right quick so we can get back to shootin' eh?
DDK: **** you.
Martin: Diamond, please.
DDK: No no, **** this. **** all ya'll. I'll perform on the free show, I'll peddle to the masses, make them want to buy the PPV with my showing. I'll carry this punk through another performance. But I will call my agent, and this will be fixed. All right, lets go with another take.
Martin: Really?
DDK: Yeah, I'm still getting paid. Let's do this. Get the stunt guy ready.
*A stunt man runs up holding a prop camera.*
Stunt Man: I feel honored to be the guy you BANG! tonight.
GQ: That was clever. Haven't heard that one before.
*DDK looks at the stunt man, then rolls his eyes.*
DDK: ...Martin.
Martin: Please don't talk to the talent.
*Martin walks behind camera and everyone gets back into place.*
Martin: In 5...4...3...
*Two more seconds, then DDK starts up.*
DDK: I don't get it. I really don't.
GQ: Get what?
DDK: What the hell is happening!?
*The scene gets blurry.*
*We fade to a dark room. Someone sits up.*
DDK: AHHH!
Esmerelda: ...wha...?
*DDK claps his hands and a light comes on. We see he's sitting up in bed next to his wife, who's wearing one of those eye mask things.*
Esmerelda: What is it dear?
DDK: I just had the strangest dream! It was wild. Martin Scorsese was there and Obsidian had an English accent.
Esmerelda: That's weird honey.
*She rolls over to try and go back to sleep.*
DDK: Am I in a match with Dick Johnson this weekend?
Esmerelda: I think so.
DDK: Okay. I can whoop his ass again. Is it on the free show?
Esmerelda: I think so.
DDK: Damn. Maybe I'll just beat him for so long that it carries over into the PPV.
Esmerelda: That's nice dear.
DDK: You don't care, do you?
Esmerelda: Make me.
DDK: That can be arranged.
*DDK gets a smirk on his face and claps again, turning off the light. The scene fades out.*