Post by Simon Daye on Apr 6, 2012 10:59:47 GMT -6
[We open up to see Gib standing in front of Simon Daye wearing an outfit reminiscent of a World War II cliche movie general complete with riding crop. Simon stands to attention as Gib smashes the whipping stick against the palm of his hand.]
Gib: Simon you have been chosen to represent your country in this war against everybody who has a different belief, language, and/or social standing than us. You are going to be part of something special my boy, something bigger than just you or I... we represent all that is good and right in this country, we represent... Amurika. That is why we are here... I’m going to drill you until your ass hole bleeds red, white, and blue, teach you how to be a true fighter for this country. When I’m done with you Simon, you’re going to be the biggest US patriot since Captain America!
[Simon raises his hand.]
Simon: Question.
Gib: Yes?
Simon: Why are you dressed like a ****ing gayass fruit?
**SMASH**
[Gib’s fist collides with Simon’s jaw as the sound of bone shattering and skin tearing echoes through the small training basement of everybody’s favorite old geezer... ok, that’s a bit of exaggeration as Simon is perfectly fine, it was a light hit because Gib wasn’t looking to hurt him, but it hurt like the dickens either way.]
Simon: OUCH! What the hell man!?
Gib: You’re a foul mouthed son of a bitch Simon!
Simon: I KNOW! That’s the precise reason you recruited me for this team! It made that perfectly clear to me on the ride over here!
Gib: Well yeah, I was complimenting you.
Simon: That doesn’t explain why you punched me you derelict old **** nut!
[Gib rears his hand back and then blasts Simon right in the bread basket. Simon slumps over and falls to his knees holding his stomach in pain. Gib stares down at him and smiles.]
Gib: That’s how we give accolades in this gym son, you can’t fight off the commies with a weak fortitude, you have to be tough! I don’t go around pampering snot nosed brats, I make kids like you tough, I make you earn everything you get by being the roughest and toughest son of a bitch alive.
[Just as Gib finishes his speech, suddenly the sounds of rapid stomping feet reaches our ears as Zelda rushes down the stairs with a very annoyed look on her face. She puts her hand on her hip and speaks directly to her father.]
Zelda: Daddy!
Voice: She’s lying!
[Suddenly the sounds of even heavier feet is heard coming from up the stairs and into the basement. Xander’s massive frame enters the screen as he points his index finger directly at Zelda. Zelda turns and points at Xander.]
Zelda: Xander broke my iPad!
Xander: Zelda’s drunk!
Zelda: You fat liar.
Xander: She had one of your beers.
Zelda: I took two sips and it was the one already open! Plus, he broke my iPad because he got mad at a game on it!
Xander: That ***damn blue angry bird was being a bitch!
[Gib throws up his arms with his palms facing his children’s faces telling them to hush. Like a real serious father figure he gets a stern expression on his face as he’s ready to lay down his judgment of this argument.]
Gib: Ok, lets see... we seem to be at a stalemate here, so you two know the rules about how to settle those types of arguments in this household.
Zelda: Oh man... not the Peruvian Death Match.
Gib: Those are the breaks.
Xander: **sigh** I’ll get the Priest.
Zelda: No way! you got Father O’Mallay last time, it’s my turn to go! You can get the dry ice and goat.
Xander: That’s not fair.
Zelda: Tough luck.
[Zelda and Xander continue to bicker back and forth at each other as they turn away and head back up the stairs in the distance, pushing each other at the shoulders until they are out of sight. Simon gets closer to gib and stands next to him watching as Z and X walk away.]
Simon: You sure run a tight ship.
[Gib turns around and Cock Blasters Simon right in his... well you know. Simon slumps over and falls to the ground in the fetal position in writhing pain.]
Gib: Thank you.
[We fade to black on Gib standing over Simon, looking down at the young man in pain.]
Gib: Simon you have been chosen to represent your country in this war against everybody who has a different belief, language, and/or social standing than us. You are going to be part of something special my boy, something bigger than just you or I... we represent all that is good and right in this country, we represent... Amurika. That is why we are here... I’m going to drill you until your ass hole bleeds red, white, and blue, teach you how to be a true fighter for this country. When I’m done with you Simon, you’re going to be the biggest US patriot since Captain America!
[Simon raises his hand.]
Simon: Question.
Gib: Yes?
Simon: Why are you dressed like a ****ing gayass fruit?
**SMASH**
[Gib’s fist collides with Simon’s jaw as the sound of bone shattering and skin tearing echoes through the small training basement of everybody’s favorite old geezer... ok, that’s a bit of exaggeration as Simon is perfectly fine, it was a light hit because Gib wasn’t looking to hurt him, but it hurt like the dickens either way.]
Simon: OUCH! What the hell man!?
Gib: You’re a foul mouthed son of a bitch Simon!
Simon: I KNOW! That’s the precise reason you recruited me for this team! It made that perfectly clear to me on the ride over here!
Gib: Well yeah, I was complimenting you.
Simon: That doesn’t explain why you punched me you derelict old **** nut!
[Gib rears his hand back and then blasts Simon right in the bread basket. Simon slumps over and falls to his knees holding his stomach in pain. Gib stares down at him and smiles.]
Gib: That’s how we give accolades in this gym son, you can’t fight off the commies with a weak fortitude, you have to be tough! I don’t go around pampering snot nosed brats, I make kids like you tough, I make you earn everything you get by being the roughest and toughest son of a bitch alive.
[Just as Gib finishes his speech, suddenly the sounds of rapid stomping feet reaches our ears as Zelda rushes down the stairs with a very annoyed look on her face. She puts her hand on her hip and speaks directly to her father.]
Zelda: Daddy!
Voice: She’s lying!
[Suddenly the sounds of even heavier feet is heard coming from up the stairs and into the basement. Xander’s massive frame enters the screen as he points his index finger directly at Zelda. Zelda turns and points at Xander.]
Zelda: Xander broke my iPad!
Xander: Zelda’s drunk!
Zelda: You fat liar.
Xander: She had one of your beers.
Zelda: I took two sips and it was the one already open! Plus, he broke my iPad because he got mad at a game on it!
Xander: That ***damn blue angry bird was being a bitch!
[Gib throws up his arms with his palms facing his children’s faces telling them to hush. Like a real serious father figure he gets a stern expression on his face as he’s ready to lay down his judgment of this argument.]
Gib: Ok, lets see... we seem to be at a stalemate here, so you two know the rules about how to settle those types of arguments in this household.
Zelda: Oh man... not the Peruvian Death Match.
Gib: Those are the breaks.
Xander: **sigh** I’ll get the Priest.
Zelda: No way! you got Father O’Mallay last time, it’s my turn to go! You can get the dry ice and goat.
Xander: That’s not fair.
Zelda: Tough luck.
[Zelda and Xander continue to bicker back and forth at each other as they turn away and head back up the stairs in the distance, pushing each other at the shoulders until they are out of sight. Simon gets closer to gib and stands next to him watching as Z and X walk away.]
Simon: You sure run a tight ship.
[Gib turns around and Cock Blasters Simon right in his... well you know. Simon slumps over and falls to the ground in the fetal position in writhing pain.]
Gib: Thank you.
[We fade to black on Gib standing over Simon, looking down at the young man in pain.]
