Post by Bruce "The Beast" Richards on Nov 29, 2005 20:30:57 GMT -5
(This promo starts off with an edited recap of the DX saga. Because we know how confusing things can get around here.)
("Stylin'" Kyle and Jack "Attack" Jones in the weightroom.)
KYLE ROBERTS: Have you seen Bruce around?
JACK JONES: Not since the match.
KYLE ROBERTS: That's because he left as soon as he could. He was shouting and yelling about how it was bullshit! (Cut to the security cam footage. Wayne Wright puts his hand on The Beast's shoulder to stop him from getting in, and the big man loses it! He smashes his opponent's face on the hood of the car, and then drags him over to the door...oh god! He slams the car door once, twice, three times on the poor man's head, then tosses his limp body away from the car. Slamming his fists on the top of the car in frustration, The Beast gets in the car and drives off..)At these points, when Bruce is THIS mad, I let the Coach deal with it and stay the hell out of the way. So that's why I want to file a complaint against the Decapitators and the ref of that match.
JACK JONES: I don't see what that would do. It's the federation that sets the rules.
KYLE ROBERTS: So I should file a complaint against New Alberta Pro? Or maybe a lawsuit! YEAH!
(Cut to the hallway of an apartment building.)
BRUCE RICHARDS: If you don't get this match thrown out, then there's the chance that we might lose our titles. And let's face it: The only reason we've stuck around together so long is because that tag team gold hasn't left our waists since last year.
KYLE ROBERTS: Well, YEAH! Because we're awesome!
BRUCE RICHARDS: AND because, so far, I haven't found a tag team partner better than you. On Monday Night Nights, you let me down. You let your PARTNER down.
KYLE ROBERTS: Only because the rope break didn't count! (Cut to footage of the Axe vs. The Beast match, pinfall 1...2...3!)
BRUCE RICHARDS: LET ME FINISH! You let ME down. And NOW, you're going to make it up.
KYLE ROBERTS: And I WILL! Once I speak to the lawyer!
(Cut to "Stylin'" Kyle in a law office.)
KYLE ROBERTS: So, I've given you the rulebook for the federation. Have you looked over it?
MICHAEL GREENE: Kyle, the rulebook specifically states that in a hardcore match, rope breaks don't exist.
KYLE ROBERTS: WHAT? Where?
(Greene shows Roberts the specific section. Kyle's face loses all its colour.)
KYLE ROBERTS: So this means?
MICHAEL GREENE: That if you decided to sue the NAPW, you'd lose. Horribly. You'd probably be laughed out of court.
(Cut to D! and "Stylin'" Kyle in Chapters Strathcona.)
D!: So, uh, have I caught you at a bad time?
STYLIN' KYLE: (Muttering as he looks through his law books.) Bruce is going to kill me if I don't get this match thrown out. There's got to be a way.
(Finally, cut to The Beast and Stylin' Kyle, again in the apartment hallway.)
BRUCE RICHARDS: (lets go of Roberts) You'll make it up. Or DIE trying. Got that? (Fadeout.)
(The scene opens in a well-furnished apartment building; think Stylish Yuppie, but with less IKEA. Amy, a pretty brunette, is waltzing around the kitchen in a t-shirt and blue jeans, making some sort of pasta sauce. A knock comes from the apartment door.)
Amy: Kyle, you're home early! (She unfastens the deadbolt and opens the door.) How did everything go at the--(Bruce "The Beast" Richards is standing in the doorway, a charcoal grey suit underneath his trademark black duster.)
The Beast: Amy. Mind if I come in? (Pushes his way past her and into the apartment; he puts his sunglasses on the dining room table, but leaves his hat on.) Is Kyle around?
Amy: No, Bruce he isn't. He's...out right now. I don't know when he'll be back. How about I let him know you were here, and he'll call you back when he gets home?
The Beast: No thanks, I'll wait. (Sits on the couch.) I'd rather speak to him in person. (There is an awkward silence, and Amy reluctantly sits on the opposite end of the couch.) So, Amy, how are you? Kyle tells me you're working night shifts lately. Been getting enough sleep?
Amy: I'm okay, Bruce, really. A little tired, a little sore, but...look, this is kind of a bad time. Kyle's going to be home any minute.
The Beast: Amy, why so hostile all of a sudden? The way you're acting, it's like you don't want me around here or something. (Sits up straighter on the couch.) Do I make you nervous?
(Another awkward silence, and then the door to the apartment opens, and a bedraggled "Stylin'" Kyle Roberts enters, dragging a piece of cardboard behind him.)
"Stylin'" Kyle: Hey, Amy, something smells good in here. Man, you wouldn't believe how-- (Notices The Beast, and takes a step back in surprise, bumping into the dining room table. He tosses the cardboard behind him. Amy quickly gets up and stands beside him, almost hiding behind his arm.) Bruce! Hey, man, what are you doing here?
The Beast: I just came over to check on you. Haven't seen you since Friday night, champ. What have you been up to?
"Stylin'" Kyle: Nothing much. I mean, nothing much other than trying to get that match result overturned.
The Beast: That's my boy. What did the lawyer say?
"Stylin' Kyle: Uh, the lawyer. Right. Well, see, we had to look over the rulebook, which is pretty technical and full of a lot of really boring information, and there's just pages and pages of different stipulations, I mean it goes on and on forever, I'm surprised anyone can make heads or tails of it, it's no wonder the NAPW is in a shambles right now, and--
The Beast: KYLE. WHAT did the nice LAWYER have to say about our MATCH?
"Stylin'" Kyle: Well, basically Bruce...I mean, with all the other...in a nutshell, he said...he said...we've got no case.
The Beast: (Sits in silence for a moment.) I see. (Gets up from the couch and slowly walks towards "Stylin'" Kyle.)
"Stylin'" Kyle: Look, Bruce, take it easy. It's just one setback, we've still got a couple more days, and I just came back from a...meeting. (The Beast keeps walking.) It's guaranteed to work, Bruce, I promise! You've gotta trust me!! (The Beast stops directly in front of "Stylin'" Kyle and just stares at him for a second.)
The Beast: I do trust you, Kyle. After all, if you don't trust your partner (shoots a look at Amy) then who can you trust? (Leans in menacingly to "Stylin'" Kyle, and reaches out...to grab his sunglasses from the table. He slides them on as he walks to the door.) I'm leaving everything in your capable hands, Kyle. I'm looking forward to Black Thursday. I've got tickets for all three of us, ringside, an excellent view of the whole show. That is, unless...you disappoint me.
"Stylin'" Kyle: (All smiles and exaggeration.) Well, you don't have to worry about that, partner. I've got it all under control. We're as good as gold!
The Beast: (Lets crack a thin smile.) You let me know just as soon as the decision comes down. Have a good night, Kyle. Amy. (Exits.)
Amy: Jesus, Kyle. He's really upset. How did things go downtown?
"Stylin'" Kyle: Great, just great. I'm a dead man. (Pause.) So, what's for dinner?
(With permission from Stylin' Kyle Roberts.)
("Stylin'" Kyle and Jack "Attack" Jones in the weightroom.)
KYLE ROBERTS: Have you seen Bruce around?
JACK JONES: Not since the match.
KYLE ROBERTS: That's because he left as soon as he could. He was shouting and yelling about how it was bullshit! (Cut to the security cam footage. Wayne Wright puts his hand on The Beast's shoulder to stop him from getting in, and the big man loses it! He smashes his opponent's face on the hood of the car, and then drags him over to the door...oh god! He slams the car door once, twice, three times on the poor man's head, then tosses his limp body away from the car. Slamming his fists on the top of the car in frustration, The Beast gets in the car and drives off..)At these points, when Bruce is THIS mad, I let the Coach deal with it and stay the hell out of the way. So that's why I want to file a complaint against the Decapitators and the ref of that match.
JACK JONES: I don't see what that would do. It's the federation that sets the rules.
KYLE ROBERTS: So I should file a complaint against New Alberta Pro? Or maybe a lawsuit! YEAH!
(Cut to the hallway of an apartment building.)
BRUCE RICHARDS: If you don't get this match thrown out, then there's the chance that we might lose our titles. And let's face it: The only reason we've stuck around together so long is because that tag team gold hasn't left our waists since last year.
KYLE ROBERTS: Well, YEAH! Because we're awesome!
BRUCE RICHARDS: AND because, so far, I haven't found a tag team partner better than you. On Monday Night Nights, you let me down. You let your PARTNER down.
KYLE ROBERTS: Only because the rope break didn't count! (Cut to footage of the Axe vs. The Beast match, pinfall 1...2...3!)
BRUCE RICHARDS: LET ME FINISH! You let ME down. And NOW, you're going to make it up.
KYLE ROBERTS: And I WILL! Once I speak to the lawyer!
(Cut to "Stylin'" Kyle in a law office.)
KYLE ROBERTS: So, I've given you the rulebook for the federation. Have you looked over it?
MICHAEL GREENE: Kyle, the rulebook specifically states that in a hardcore match, rope breaks don't exist.
KYLE ROBERTS: WHAT? Where?
(Greene shows Roberts the specific section. Kyle's face loses all its colour.)
KYLE ROBERTS: So this means?
MICHAEL GREENE: That if you decided to sue the NAPW, you'd lose. Horribly. You'd probably be laughed out of court.
(Cut to D! and "Stylin'" Kyle in Chapters Strathcona.)
D!: So, uh, have I caught you at a bad time?
STYLIN' KYLE: (Muttering as he looks through his law books.) Bruce is going to kill me if I don't get this match thrown out. There's got to be a way.
(Finally, cut to The Beast and Stylin' Kyle, again in the apartment hallway.)
BRUCE RICHARDS: (lets go of Roberts) You'll make it up. Or DIE trying. Got that? (Fadeout.)
(The scene opens in a well-furnished apartment building; think Stylish Yuppie, but with less IKEA. Amy, a pretty brunette, is waltzing around the kitchen in a t-shirt and blue jeans, making some sort of pasta sauce. A knock comes from the apartment door.)
Amy: Kyle, you're home early! (She unfastens the deadbolt and opens the door.) How did everything go at the--(Bruce "The Beast" Richards is standing in the doorway, a charcoal grey suit underneath his trademark black duster.)
The Beast: Amy. Mind if I come in? (Pushes his way past her and into the apartment; he puts his sunglasses on the dining room table, but leaves his hat on.) Is Kyle around?
Amy: No, Bruce he isn't. He's...out right now. I don't know when he'll be back. How about I let him know you were here, and he'll call you back when he gets home?
The Beast: No thanks, I'll wait. (Sits on the couch.) I'd rather speak to him in person. (There is an awkward silence, and Amy reluctantly sits on the opposite end of the couch.) So, Amy, how are you? Kyle tells me you're working night shifts lately. Been getting enough sleep?
Amy: I'm okay, Bruce, really. A little tired, a little sore, but...look, this is kind of a bad time. Kyle's going to be home any minute.
The Beast: Amy, why so hostile all of a sudden? The way you're acting, it's like you don't want me around here or something. (Sits up straighter on the couch.) Do I make you nervous?
(Another awkward silence, and then the door to the apartment opens, and a bedraggled "Stylin'" Kyle Roberts enters, dragging a piece of cardboard behind him.)
"Stylin'" Kyle: Hey, Amy, something smells good in here. Man, you wouldn't believe how-- (Notices The Beast, and takes a step back in surprise, bumping into the dining room table. He tosses the cardboard behind him. Amy quickly gets up and stands beside him, almost hiding behind his arm.) Bruce! Hey, man, what are you doing here?
The Beast: I just came over to check on you. Haven't seen you since Friday night, champ. What have you been up to?
"Stylin'" Kyle: Nothing much. I mean, nothing much other than trying to get that match result overturned.
The Beast: That's my boy. What did the lawyer say?
"Stylin' Kyle: Uh, the lawyer. Right. Well, see, we had to look over the rulebook, which is pretty technical and full of a lot of really boring information, and there's just pages and pages of different stipulations, I mean it goes on and on forever, I'm surprised anyone can make heads or tails of it, it's no wonder the NAPW is in a shambles right now, and--
The Beast: KYLE. WHAT did the nice LAWYER have to say about our MATCH?
"Stylin'" Kyle: Well, basically Bruce...I mean, with all the other...in a nutshell, he said...he said...we've got no case.
The Beast: (Sits in silence for a moment.) I see. (Gets up from the couch and slowly walks towards "Stylin'" Kyle.)
"Stylin'" Kyle: Look, Bruce, take it easy. It's just one setback, we've still got a couple more days, and I just came back from a...meeting. (The Beast keeps walking.) It's guaranteed to work, Bruce, I promise! You've gotta trust me!! (The Beast stops directly in front of "Stylin'" Kyle and just stares at him for a second.)
The Beast: I do trust you, Kyle. After all, if you don't trust your partner (shoots a look at Amy) then who can you trust? (Leans in menacingly to "Stylin'" Kyle, and reaches out...to grab his sunglasses from the table. He slides them on as he walks to the door.) I'm leaving everything in your capable hands, Kyle. I'm looking forward to Black Thursday. I've got tickets for all three of us, ringside, an excellent view of the whole show. That is, unless...you disappoint me.
"Stylin'" Kyle: (All smiles and exaggeration.) Well, you don't have to worry about that, partner. I've got it all under control. We're as good as gold!
The Beast: (Lets crack a thin smile.) You let me know just as soon as the decision comes down. Have a good night, Kyle. Amy. (Exits.)
Amy: Jesus, Kyle. He's really upset. How did things go downtown?
"Stylin'" Kyle: Great, just great. I'm a dead man. (Pause.) So, what's for dinner?
(With permission from Stylin' Kyle Roberts.)