Post by Falcon on Oct 31, 2008 10:11:06 GMT -6
Thursday
Falcon: Dude, wake up.. I got a great idea.
Angel: This had better be good for waking me up at the ass crack of dawn asshole.
Falcon: Oh, it is.. I'll meet you at that Stage Seven place in East Hartford. Figure it'll take me about two hours..
Angel: Alright, alright...
Falcon: When you get there, start grabbing people off the street. This is going to be the ****..
Angel: Whatever you say..
(Click)
Angel: Prick...
Later...
(We fade in on a backdrop similar to a daytime talk show. Like Oprah or some ****. There's one plush leather chair set off center to the left, and four less than stellar wooden chairs set opposite, off center stage to the right. A large laminated sign hangs on a fake brick wall that reads "Corey Bovich". Some cheesy music begins to play as the lights shift colors in a vain attempt at special effects. The audience begins applauding. From the bottom of the frame, Falcon walks out of the crowd area, dressed in a simple button up and slacks. He wears a dorky pair of glasses on his face instead of his usual paint. He stands on the stage, holding a set of index cards and a microphone.)
Falcon: Welcome to the show ladies and gentlemen, my name is Corey Bovich. Our guests today are two very disapointing individuals with two very disapointed parents.
(A graphic appears in the right side of the screen at the bottom. "Help! My kid is out of control!")
Falcon: First up, We have Samantha. Her child likes to think that he actually is something. He spends all of his time running around pretending to be something. Let's hear what she has to say. Samantha?
(More music plays and an attractive Brunette, clad in a simple sundress, enters to thunderous applause. She takes the first seat in the row of chairs and crosses her shapely legs. Falcon sits in the plush chair and checks the first cue card.)
Falcon: Welcome to the show. Now I understand that your son is in an out of control fantasy?
Samantha: Yes, Corey. My son Jason spends all of his time in his little make believe fantasy world where he's the king of all, and the god of everything. It's become hard to try and get him out of it, even for a minute.
Falcon: I see. So, you're son is into one of those dice games, like Dungeons and Dragons?
Samantha: Well, no.
Falcon: An online game? World of Warcraft perhaps?
Samantha: Well... no.
Falcon: Then what is his fantasy?
Samantha: Jason believes that.. he's a good wrestler.
(She puts her head down and covers her eyes with a hand, pretending to cry. Falcon reaches a hand out and gently places it on her shoulder.)
Falcon: I know this is hard for you. Coming to terms with a son that spends all his time in a world of fanasy. How did you find out?
Samantha: He called me one night. He said some company offered him a contract. A real, reputable company this time. And that meant that he made it, he was in the big time. And I just knew he had hit rock bottom.
Falcon: So, what did you do?
Samantha: I started calling therapists, psychologists, psychiatrists, trying to get some answers. They all said they couldn't help me without Jasons presence. When I told him what I had done, he scoffed at me. He said he wasn't in a fantasy, that it was all real.
Falcon: Ahh, yes. Classic denial. So, what did you do next?
Samantha: Naturally I came to you. I wanted to see if you could talk some sense into him.
Falcon: I can assure you that we are going to try. But before we bring Jason out here, this is what he had to say.
(Fade to a clip of some guy standing alone in a room. He looks very little like Sexy Jason, but has a replicated haircut. He's also not in anywhere wrestling shape. Beer gut, flabby arms, the works. He's wearing the same style of shirt and pants Sexy Jason usually wears during promos.)
SJ: I a real wrestler. I a national champion.
(The crowd begins to boo, loudly. The clip continues.)
SJ: I the sexiest wrestler in nCw! I don't need no fraction. I do it all on my own!
(Crowd boos louder.)
SJ: I beat Falcon and Kole. I win match on Sunday. I show you why sexy always wins!
(Cut back to Falcon and the woman.)
Falcon: Well, you've heard the story, you've seen the film, let's bring him out here. Welcome, Sexy Jason!
(The crowd boos vehemently as the same guy from the clip comes out from a side door and taunts the crowd. The crowd starts throwing random garbage at him. As soon as that starts, he whimply runs to sit down next to the woman. But as soon as he gets there, he's hardcore again and taunting the crowd.)
Falcon: So, Jason, why the ruse? Why pretend to be something your not?
SJ: I is a real wrestler!
Falcon: Ok, why do you think that?
SJ: I has this!
(He holds up a plastic replica nCw National Title.)
Falcon: I see. And you won that?
SJ: By winning a Walmart match!
Falcon: A what?
Samantha: A match where he and another man had to escape Wal-mart.
Falcon: You're <censored> serious?
Samantha: Unfortunately. This is exactly what I was talking about.
Falcon: I see what you mean. Here, Jason, walking out of a Wal-mart doesn't make you a wrestler. Regardless of what little trinket they give you afterwards. You need to get back into reality.
SJ: I is in reality. I outwrestle all! I beat Falcon! I beat Kole! I retrain National Championship!
Falcon: Oook.. someone needs a dictionary. Well, sorry Ma'am, but it looks like you have no choice.
Samantha: You mean?
Falcon: Yes, you have to put him down.
Samantha: But, he's my son!
Falcon: I know, I know. It's going to hurt. Him mostly.
(Falcon stands up. He reaches behind his own chair to grab a nice sheet of glass. Jason is still making rude gestures at the booing crowd. Falcon lines up the shot, and splinters the sheet of glass over the mans head. The glass is fake, and the actor playing Sexy Jason is ok, but you get the idea of the symbolism, don't you? The actor slumps down onto the floor. A team of security comes out to drag away the body.)
Falcon: I am sorry you had to see that.
(The woman pretends to cry again.)
Samantha: It's.. alright.. I know it's for the best.
Falcon: Alright then, my next guest thinks her son is an out of control power addict. Please welcome Jane to the show.
(Another woman enters. An attractive blonde wearing a red sweater and slacks, she takes a seat next to the other woman, to a standing ovation.)
Falcon: Welcome to the show Jane.
Jane: Pleasure to be here Corey. I hope you can help.
Falcon: I will try Ma'am. Now, you think you're son Kole is power hungry, correct?
Jane: Yes, he thinks that money can buy him everything. And since he has a ton of money, people will just do whatever he wants. Where did I go wrong?
Falcon: Probably at conception. But that's another story. When did you first notice this?
Jane: When he was six or seven, he wanted a barbie doll. When I told him he couldn't have it because he was a boy, he threw a fit, threw a piece of paper at me labeled a hundred dollars and demanded I buy it for him. Well, I felt bad, so I caved.
Falcon: And he's been like this ever since?
Jane: Oh yes. It sucked having to pay his classmates to come to his birthday parties. Lucky for us his father invented those tabs that are on the back of running shoes to help you pull them on. So we had the money.
Falcon: I see. What have you tried to stop this?
Jane: First I tried freezing his accounts, but that never holds. Then I cancelled all the credit cards I let him use, and he just got new ones. It's amazing that they'll give a child that much credit.
Falcon: Well, banks are pretty damn stupid. Before we bring Kole out here, let's hear what he had to say.
(Backstage to a teenager who looks a little bit like Kole Kaos, with the same haircut. He's also playing up a thug/hardcore persona for the camera.)
Kole: I do what I want yo! If you don't like, I'll just give you so money.. then you'll have to like it. You got no choice. Cash rules everything around me. Cream get the money.. dolla dolla bill ya'll..
(Clips of that same teenager doing things with stacks of (monopoly) money. You know, the same **** every rapper does in their crappy music videos.)
Kole: nCw is mine! I own that bitch. Because I got piles of cash, yo. Jason.. Falcon.. you guys might as well lay down and hand me that belt. Before I buy your houses out from under you, and put you in the streets.
(Back to the studio.)
Falcon: Well, let's bring him out here. Kole Kaos, come on out.
(The teenage Kole Kaos comes out to a chorus of boos, throwing monopoly money around. The crowd continues to boo and litter the stage with garbage as Kole takes his seat.)
Falcon: Kole, even you must know that money isn't everything?
Kole: Because it is everything you fool! Careful, or I'll buy your house.
Falcon: Sorry, my house is not for sale.
Kole: You simpleton. I'll buy your mortgage from the bank and cancel it. Then yo ass is homeless.
Falcon: Well, you let me know how that works out. Especially when you find out there isn't one. Why do you think that having money will make you a great wrestler?
Kole: Because money can buy anything. I can buy friends to help me win. I can buy people to stand around and make me look good. I can buy hookers to do dirty things in hotel rooms.
Falcon: There's more to life that buying friends and women, Kole.
Kole: Who said anything about women?
Falcon: O....k.. Well Mrs Kaos. I think you know what time it is.
(The blonde nods while Kole stares at Falcon.)
Kole: I saw what you did to that other guy. I'm not going to let that be..
(He is cut off when the blonde woman swings a fake baseball bat and connects with the back of his head. He falls to the floor. Security comes out to take him away. Falcon stands up, and takes a seat between both women who move to accomodate him. Falcon relaxes placing his arms around both women.)
Falcon: Ok, here's your final thought for the day. I could have come out here and cut some serious ass promo about how little the two of you are actually worth. But I decided that I would use my natural charisma and humor to entertain the fans. People who matter far more to me, than either of you two idiots.
(Falcon looks off to the side a moment, in thought.)
Falcon: You see, I don't have to care about either of you to beat the holy piss out of you and take that prize for myself. If any of you heard Angel, he said that I would be fine without winning a title for the rest of my career. And as long as I was still wrestling, he would be right. But this isn't about a gold plate on a leather strap, this is about taking from Jason what he never should have obtained. And driving the knife a little deeper into the pride of one Kole Kaos. You see Jason, had I won that National title when I was supposed to. You'd of never gotten your grubby hands on it. Even if you had gotten a shot, I would have put you down like a dog.
And you know it.
(Falcon relaxes back in the chair, both women lean against him, placing their heads on either side of his chest. Sure, they may be paid actresses, but who wouldn't want to get close to a real celebrity?)
Falcon: You see. I'm not you. I don't need Koles money. I don't need the girls Sexy Jason thinks he has climbing all over me. I just need a contract in hand and the roar of the crowd. Anything else is just a bonus. Like it or not guys, both of you are outmatched. And both of you know it. It's unfortunate.
But that's just the way it is.
(Fade out on Falcons, and both of the womens, smiling faces.)
Visit again white elephant
Who sent you to the loom?
Shall we sever everything?
Ponder this while we ponder why
He's starting to follow crows
And climbing the ladder somewhere out
To really begin to scare
And plotting to search the grounds
With a fine tooth comb
You poor little
Anti-saint
You poor little
Anti-saint
Nothing to say for the last time
Just want to sink his will
Like a predator's prey in the cold
Slowly starts to show
Assurance is what they need
Hold the Lion until it's fed
It's still only the morning
But the fly's surfaced
You poor little
Anti-saint
You poor little
Anti-saint
You poor little
Anti-saint
You poor little
Anti-saint
The stakes are too low
We may not need any
Course we never feared it
And if you could tell
That the cleverest acting
Was the lying by you
Lying by you
Lying by you
You poor little
Anti-saint
You poor little
Anti-saint
You poor little
Anti-saint
You poor little
Anti-saint
[/i]
Falcon: Dude, wake up.. I got a great idea.
Angel: This had better be good for waking me up at the ass crack of dawn asshole.
Falcon: Oh, it is.. I'll meet you at that Stage Seven place in East Hartford. Figure it'll take me about two hours..
Angel: Alright, alright...
Falcon: When you get there, start grabbing people off the street. This is going to be the ****..
Angel: Whatever you say..
(Click)
Angel: Prick...
Later...
(We fade in on a backdrop similar to a daytime talk show. Like Oprah or some ****. There's one plush leather chair set off center to the left, and four less than stellar wooden chairs set opposite, off center stage to the right. A large laminated sign hangs on a fake brick wall that reads "Corey Bovich". Some cheesy music begins to play as the lights shift colors in a vain attempt at special effects. The audience begins applauding. From the bottom of the frame, Falcon walks out of the crowd area, dressed in a simple button up and slacks. He wears a dorky pair of glasses on his face instead of his usual paint. He stands on the stage, holding a set of index cards and a microphone.)
Falcon: Welcome to the show ladies and gentlemen, my name is Corey Bovich. Our guests today are two very disapointing individuals with two very disapointed parents.
(A graphic appears in the right side of the screen at the bottom. "Help! My kid is out of control!")
Falcon: First up, We have Samantha. Her child likes to think that he actually is something. He spends all of his time running around pretending to be something. Let's hear what she has to say. Samantha?
(More music plays and an attractive Brunette, clad in a simple sundress, enters to thunderous applause. She takes the first seat in the row of chairs and crosses her shapely legs. Falcon sits in the plush chair and checks the first cue card.)
Falcon: Welcome to the show. Now I understand that your son is in an out of control fantasy?
Samantha: Yes, Corey. My son Jason spends all of his time in his little make believe fantasy world where he's the king of all, and the god of everything. It's become hard to try and get him out of it, even for a minute.
Falcon: I see. So, you're son is into one of those dice games, like Dungeons and Dragons?
Samantha: Well, no.
Falcon: An online game? World of Warcraft perhaps?
Samantha: Well... no.
Falcon: Then what is his fantasy?
Samantha: Jason believes that.. he's a good wrestler.
(She puts her head down and covers her eyes with a hand, pretending to cry. Falcon reaches a hand out and gently places it on her shoulder.)
Falcon: I know this is hard for you. Coming to terms with a son that spends all his time in a world of fanasy. How did you find out?
Samantha: He called me one night. He said some company offered him a contract. A real, reputable company this time. And that meant that he made it, he was in the big time. And I just knew he had hit rock bottom.
Falcon: So, what did you do?
Samantha: I started calling therapists, psychologists, psychiatrists, trying to get some answers. They all said they couldn't help me without Jasons presence. When I told him what I had done, he scoffed at me. He said he wasn't in a fantasy, that it was all real.
Falcon: Ahh, yes. Classic denial. So, what did you do next?
Samantha: Naturally I came to you. I wanted to see if you could talk some sense into him.
Falcon: I can assure you that we are going to try. But before we bring Jason out here, this is what he had to say.
(Fade to a clip of some guy standing alone in a room. He looks very little like Sexy Jason, but has a replicated haircut. He's also not in anywhere wrestling shape. Beer gut, flabby arms, the works. He's wearing the same style of shirt and pants Sexy Jason usually wears during promos.)
SJ: I a real wrestler. I a national champion.
(The crowd begins to boo, loudly. The clip continues.)
SJ: I the sexiest wrestler in nCw! I don't need no fraction. I do it all on my own!
(Crowd boos louder.)
SJ: I beat Falcon and Kole. I win match on Sunday. I show you why sexy always wins!
(Cut back to Falcon and the woman.)
Falcon: Well, you've heard the story, you've seen the film, let's bring him out here. Welcome, Sexy Jason!
(The crowd boos vehemently as the same guy from the clip comes out from a side door and taunts the crowd. The crowd starts throwing random garbage at him. As soon as that starts, he whimply runs to sit down next to the woman. But as soon as he gets there, he's hardcore again and taunting the crowd.)
Falcon: So, Jason, why the ruse? Why pretend to be something your not?
SJ: I is a real wrestler!
Falcon: Ok, why do you think that?
SJ: I has this!
(He holds up a plastic replica nCw National Title.)
Falcon: I see. And you won that?
SJ: By winning a Walmart match!
Falcon: A what?
Samantha: A match where he and another man had to escape Wal-mart.
Falcon: You're <censored> serious?
Samantha: Unfortunately. This is exactly what I was talking about.
Falcon: I see what you mean. Here, Jason, walking out of a Wal-mart doesn't make you a wrestler. Regardless of what little trinket they give you afterwards. You need to get back into reality.
SJ: I is in reality. I outwrestle all! I beat Falcon! I beat Kole! I retrain National Championship!
Falcon: Oook.. someone needs a dictionary. Well, sorry Ma'am, but it looks like you have no choice.
Samantha: You mean?
Falcon: Yes, you have to put him down.
Samantha: But, he's my son!
Falcon: I know, I know. It's going to hurt. Him mostly.
(Falcon stands up. He reaches behind his own chair to grab a nice sheet of glass. Jason is still making rude gestures at the booing crowd. Falcon lines up the shot, and splinters the sheet of glass over the mans head. The glass is fake, and the actor playing Sexy Jason is ok, but you get the idea of the symbolism, don't you? The actor slumps down onto the floor. A team of security comes out to drag away the body.)
Falcon: I am sorry you had to see that.
(The woman pretends to cry again.)
Samantha: It's.. alright.. I know it's for the best.
Falcon: Alright then, my next guest thinks her son is an out of control power addict. Please welcome Jane to the show.
(Another woman enters. An attractive blonde wearing a red sweater and slacks, she takes a seat next to the other woman, to a standing ovation.)
Falcon: Welcome to the show Jane.
Jane: Pleasure to be here Corey. I hope you can help.
Falcon: I will try Ma'am. Now, you think you're son Kole is power hungry, correct?
Jane: Yes, he thinks that money can buy him everything. And since he has a ton of money, people will just do whatever he wants. Where did I go wrong?
Falcon: Probably at conception. But that's another story. When did you first notice this?
Jane: When he was six or seven, he wanted a barbie doll. When I told him he couldn't have it because he was a boy, he threw a fit, threw a piece of paper at me labeled a hundred dollars and demanded I buy it for him. Well, I felt bad, so I caved.
Falcon: And he's been like this ever since?
Jane: Oh yes. It sucked having to pay his classmates to come to his birthday parties. Lucky for us his father invented those tabs that are on the back of running shoes to help you pull them on. So we had the money.
Falcon: I see. What have you tried to stop this?
Jane: First I tried freezing his accounts, but that never holds. Then I cancelled all the credit cards I let him use, and he just got new ones. It's amazing that they'll give a child that much credit.
Falcon: Well, banks are pretty damn stupid. Before we bring Kole out here, let's hear what he had to say.
(Backstage to a teenager who looks a little bit like Kole Kaos, with the same haircut. He's also playing up a thug/hardcore persona for the camera.)
Kole: I do what I want yo! If you don't like, I'll just give you so money.. then you'll have to like it. You got no choice. Cash rules everything around me. Cream get the money.. dolla dolla bill ya'll..
(Clips of that same teenager doing things with stacks of (monopoly) money. You know, the same **** every rapper does in their crappy music videos.)
Kole: nCw is mine! I own that bitch. Because I got piles of cash, yo. Jason.. Falcon.. you guys might as well lay down and hand me that belt. Before I buy your houses out from under you, and put you in the streets.
(Back to the studio.)
Falcon: Well, let's bring him out here. Kole Kaos, come on out.
(The teenage Kole Kaos comes out to a chorus of boos, throwing monopoly money around. The crowd continues to boo and litter the stage with garbage as Kole takes his seat.)
Falcon: Kole, even you must know that money isn't everything?
Kole: Because it is everything you fool! Careful, or I'll buy your house.
Falcon: Sorry, my house is not for sale.
Kole: You simpleton. I'll buy your mortgage from the bank and cancel it. Then yo ass is homeless.
Falcon: Well, you let me know how that works out. Especially when you find out there isn't one. Why do you think that having money will make you a great wrestler?
Kole: Because money can buy anything. I can buy friends to help me win. I can buy people to stand around and make me look good. I can buy hookers to do dirty things in hotel rooms.
Falcon: There's more to life that buying friends and women, Kole.
Kole: Who said anything about women?
Falcon: O....k.. Well Mrs Kaos. I think you know what time it is.
(The blonde nods while Kole stares at Falcon.)
Kole: I saw what you did to that other guy. I'm not going to let that be..
(He is cut off when the blonde woman swings a fake baseball bat and connects with the back of his head. He falls to the floor. Security comes out to take him away. Falcon stands up, and takes a seat between both women who move to accomodate him. Falcon relaxes placing his arms around both women.)
Falcon: Ok, here's your final thought for the day. I could have come out here and cut some serious ass promo about how little the two of you are actually worth. But I decided that I would use my natural charisma and humor to entertain the fans. People who matter far more to me, than either of you two idiots.
(Falcon looks off to the side a moment, in thought.)
Falcon: You see, I don't have to care about either of you to beat the holy piss out of you and take that prize for myself. If any of you heard Angel, he said that I would be fine without winning a title for the rest of my career. And as long as I was still wrestling, he would be right. But this isn't about a gold plate on a leather strap, this is about taking from Jason what he never should have obtained. And driving the knife a little deeper into the pride of one Kole Kaos. You see Jason, had I won that National title when I was supposed to. You'd of never gotten your grubby hands on it. Even if you had gotten a shot, I would have put you down like a dog.
And you know it.
(Falcon relaxes back in the chair, both women lean against him, placing their heads on either side of his chest. Sure, they may be paid actresses, but who wouldn't want to get close to a real celebrity?)
Falcon: You see. I'm not you. I don't need Koles money. I don't need the girls Sexy Jason thinks he has climbing all over me. I just need a contract in hand and the roar of the crowd. Anything else is just a bonus. Like it or not guys, both of you are outmatched. And both of you know it. It's unfortunate.
But that's just the way it is.
(Fade out on Falcons, and both of the womens, smiling faces.)
Visit again white elephant
Who sent you to the loom?
Shall we sever everything?
Ponder this while we ponder why
He's starting to follow crows
And climbing the ladder somewhere out
To really begin to scare
And plotting to search the grounds
With a fine tooth comb
You poor little
Anti-saint
You poor little
Anti-saint
Nothing to say for the last time
Just want to sink his will
Like a predator's prey in the cold
Slowly starts to show
Assurance is what they need
Hold the Lion until it's fed
It's still only the morning
But the fly's surfaced
You poor little
Anti-saint
You poor little
Anti-saint
You poor little
Anti-saint
You poor little
Anti-saint
The stakes are too low
We may not need any
Course we never feared it
And if you could tell
That the cleverest acting
Was the lying by you
Lying by you
Lying by you
You poor little
Anti-saint
You poor little
Anti-saint
You poor little
Anti-saint
You poor little
Anti-saint
[/i]