Post by motosada on Oct 16, 2006 14:54:20 GMT -5
Open to the scene of a relatively new-ish building in Tweedmouth, Northumberland (that’d be in England, yo). A young girl, blonde, perky, about 18 or 19 years old, approaches the building, lugging two large suitcases and looking really exhausted. She looks at the building and drops the suitcases, checking a sheet of paper in her pocket, and then smiles and jumps up and down excitedly, shouting “I found it, I found it!” After she’s done, she looks at her watch.
[Girl:] Aaaaand, it only took me four hours! Alright! Stupid... roads.
She grabs her cases and walks toward the door. Cut to the inside. The girl lugs her suitcases toward the office of the building - a gym, really - and sets her suitcases down to knock on the door. Nothin’. She knocks again, and doesn’t hear anything again. She opens the door and grabs her suitcases, walking in and finding a man sitting behind a desk.
[Girl:] Are you... Martin Fairbrian?
[Martin:] ... Who wants’a fuckin’ know?
[Girl:] Oh, I’m sorry! My name is Beryl Irving.
[Martin:] ...
[Beryl:] ... I... called a couple weeks ago about training here…
[Martin:] Naw. Couldn’t’ve been. We don’ really fuckin’ train sissy li’l fuckin’ fufu girls ‘ere.
[Beryl:] ... What? I didn’t really make out what you said, but I heard “fufu”! I am totally not “fufu”!
[Martin:] ... That’a fuckin’ pink briefcase ye got there?
[Beryl:] ... What? ... Oh, um... Okay, maybe a little “fufu”.
[Martin:] I already tol’ye, we don’ really train fuckin’ sissy li’l fufu girls ‘ere.
[Beryl:] What?
[Martin:] No.
[Beryl:] Why not?
[Martin:] We alrea’y got one bird ‘ere, she’s a fuckin’ han’ful as is. Don’ need ‘nother fuckin’ one causin’ problems.
[Beryl:] ... What?
[Martin:] Go’damit!
Martin jumps up and stands in front of Beryl, who’s quite startled.
[Martin:] Wha’do I look like? A fuckin’ arse?
[Beryl:] What?
[Martin:] Wher’re you fuckin’ from?
[Beryl:] What? I don’t--
[Martin:] “What” ain’t no fuckin’ place I e’er fuckin’ heard‘f. ’Ey speak fuckin’ English in What?
[Beryl:] What?!
[Martin:] ENGLISH, SLAG! DO YOU FUCKIN’ SPEAK IT?!
[Beryl:] Yes!
[Martin:] ‘EN YOU KNOW WHA’FUCK I’M SAYIN’?!
[Beryl:] Y-- Yes! ... Ki- K- Kind of!
[Martin:] Do I look like a fuckin’ arse?
[Beryl:] What?
[Martin:] Say “what” 'gain! FUCKIN’ SAY “WHAT” 'GAIN! I fuckin’ dare ye-- I fuckin’ double dare ye! Say “what” one more fuckin’ go’damn time, ye fuckin’ slag!!
[Beryl:] N-- No! No! You... you don’t look like an as... arse!
[Martin:] Ye makin’ fun’a th'way I talk?
[Beryl:] ... Wh-- what?
Martin suddenly rears back and nails Beryl dead-on with a headbutt, smashing her right in the nose. She falls back, big stream of blood flowing behind her.
[Beryl:] OH, GOD! MY FUCKIN’ NOSE!! OH, FUCKING GODDAMNIT!
[Martin:] ‘Ey! Now ye’re learnin’!
Beryl is all clustered up on the floor, nose bleeding - probably broken - cursing up a storm; much to Martin’s delight. After a long moment, a loud snap is heard, and Beryl stands back up, face a bloody mess, tears streaming, but she’s not crying. She stands there and reaches into a pocket, pulling out a wallet.
[Beryl:] Now... *snort* I have got a big stack of that... *coughcoughsnort* ...that colored toilet paper you people call “money”, and I... *coughcough* I want to train... here!! I was told that this-- *coughsnoooortOHGODWHYDOESITHURT?!?* That this is the best place to learn how to be a technical wrestler!
[Martin:] Money? Well, ‘en! Why didn’ ye jus’ say so from th'get-go? Now we’re talkin’! Be ‘ere early t’morra mornin’! If ye ain’t... no refunds!
[Beryl:] ... Wait, what? Why no--
Before she can even finish, Martin fires off another headbutt, hitting her right in the nose again! With a really horrible scream, she falls back to the ground, blood streaming everywhere.
[Beryl:] OH, GOD!! WHY IS THERE SO MUCH BLOOD?!?!
[Martin:] Oh, stop bein’ a puss ‘n get off th'floor.
Fade out!
[Girl:] Aaaaand, it only took me four hours! Alright! Stupid... roads.
She grabs her cases and walks toward the door. Cut to the inside. The girl lugs her suitcases toward the office of the building - a gym, really - and sets her suitcases down to knock on the door. Nothin’. She knocks again, and doesn’t hear anything again. She opens the door and grabs her suitcases, walking in and finding a man sitting behind a desk.
[Girl:] Are you... Martin Fairbrian?
[Martin:] ... Who wants’a fuckin’ know?
[Girl:] Oh, I’m sorry! My name is Beryl Irving.
[Martin:] ...
[Beryl:] ... I... called a couple weeks ago about training here…
[Martin:] Naw. Couldn’t’ve been. We don’ really fuckin’ train sissy li’l fuckin’ fufu girls ‘ere.
[Beryl:] ... What? I didn’t really make out what you said, but I heard “fufu”! I am totally not “fufu”!
[Martin:] ... That’a fuckin’ pink briefcase ye got there?
[Beryl:] ... What? ... Oh, um... Okay, maybe a little “fufu”.
[Martin:] I already tol’ye, we don’ really train fuckin’ sissy li’l fufu girls ‘ere.
[Beryl:] What?
[Martin:] No.
[Beryl:] Why not?
[Martin:] We alrea’y got one bird ‘ere, she’s a fuckin’ han’ful as is. Don’ need ‘nother fuckin’ one causin’ problems.
[Beryl:] ... What?
[Martin:] Go’damit!
Martin jumps up and stands in front of Beryl, who’s quite startled.
[Martin:] Wha’do I look like? A fuckin’ arse?
[Beryl:] What?
[Martin:] Wher’re you fuckin’ from?
[Beryl:] What? I don’t--
[Martin:] “What” ain’t no fuckin’ place I e’er fuckin’ heard‘f. ’Ey speak fuckin’ English in What?
[Beryl:] What?!
[Martin:] ENGLISH, SLAG! DO YOU FUCKIN’ SPEAK IT?!
[Beryl:] Yes!
[Martin:] ‘EN YOU KNOW WHA’FUCK I’M SAYIN’?!
[Beryl:] Y-- Yes! ... Ki- K- Kind of!
[Martin:] Do I look like a fuckin’ arse?
[Beryl:] What?
[Martin:] Say “what” 'gain! FUCKIN’ SAY “WHAT” 'GAIN! I fuckin’ dare ye-- I fuckin’ double dare ye! Say “what” one more fuckin’ go’damn time, ye fuckin’ slag!!
[Beryl:] N-- No! No! You... you don’t look like an as... arse!
[Martin:] Ye makin’ fun’a th'way I talk?
[Beryl:] ... Wh-- what?
Martin suddenly rears back and nails Beryl dead-on with a headbutt, smashing her right in the nose. She falls back, big stream of blood flowing behind her.
[Beryl:] OH, GOD! MY FUCKIN’ NOSE!! OH, FUCKING GODDAMNIT!
[Martin:] ‘Ey! Now ye’re learnin’!
Beryl is all clustered up on the floor, nose bleeding - probably broken - cursing up a storm; much to Martin’s delight. After a long moment, a loud snap is heard, and Beryl stands back up, face a bloody mess, tears streaming, but she’s not crying. She stands there and reaches into a pocket, pulling out a wallet.
[Beryl:] Now... *snort* I have got a big stack of that... *coughcoughsnort* ...that colored toilet paper you people call “money”, and I... *coughcough* I want to train... here!! I was told that this-- *coughsnoooortOHGODWHYDOESITHURT?!?* That this is the best place to learn how to be a technical wrestler!
[Martin:] Money? Well, ‘en! Why didn’ ye jus’ say so from th'get-go? Now we’re talkin’! Be ‘ere early t’morra mornin’! If ye ain’t... no refunds!
[Beryl:] ... Wait, what? Why no--
Before she can even finish, Martin fires off another headbutt, hitting her right in the nose again! With a really horrible scream, she falls back to the ground, blood streaming everywhere.
[Beryl:] OH, GOD!! WHY IS THERE SO MUCH BLOOD?!?!
[Martin:] Oh, stop bein’ a puss ‘n get off th'floor.
Fade out!