Post by Mystic Ninja on Jan 27, 2007 21:10:15 GMT -5
[FADE UP on Expositioner standing before a white, pull-down projection screen. The Expositioner is wearing, in addition to his regular black and silver sleeveless shirt and pants, a large white lab coat, several sizes too large. Occasionally, he gestures with the short pointing stick in his hand for emphasis.]
EXPOSITIONER: Good evening, and welcome to the first in a short series of expository video segments where you, the viewer, will be treated to a short history of the conflict between two pairs of combatants. The man currently visible in your video frame is the Expositioner, one of a pair of professional wrestlers competing at this week's Tuesday Night Fights. For broadcast times, please consult your local television schedule.
[The Expositioner nods at someone off-camera. The room lights dim and the screen lights up with the black-and-white countdown. 5... 4... 3.... The 2 vanishes abruptly, and a second later, we are watching an old home video, probably from the late-70s or early-80s, judging by the video quality. A quiet North American neighbourhood, a small but well-kept house and yard, and a young preschool-aged Caucasian boy playing cars and trucks on the front lawn. He looks up from his cars briefly to wave at the camera, then returns to his games.]
EXPOSITIONER: We begin tonight's segment with some background on one of the tag teams competing on Tuesday.
VOICE FROM OFF-CAMERA: Keep it short this time, Expo.
EXPOSITIONER: (speaking a little faster than he did before) The boy you see here is a dreamer. His young imagination is fertile ground for all manner of flights of fantasy, from dragons to space aliens, superheroes to real-life heroes, from soldiers to societies of Tinkertoy men, from race car drivers to dinosaurs to the cops and robbers that he sees on television every day, from cartoon gerbils to grocery store clerks, from wombat gardeners to three-legged robot lawyers who save orphanages from fat Belgian stop signs, from the tallest ladder-beast to the smallest micro-sandwich expedition, from John Ritter's brilliant portrayal of restauranteur Jack Tripper to the musical stylings of The Knack, from the transvestite hook--
VOICE: Shorter, Expo!
[EXPOSITIONER nods quickly, then gestures off-camera again. The video on screen shuts off, replaced by another. This time, it's a junior high school Christmas concert. A group of kids are singing to piano accompaniment under the direction of a music teacher's conducting. As they sing, one boy in the front row steps forward a few paces, obviously preparing for his solo.]
EXPOSITIONER: (speaking significantly faster than before) Do you know what destiny is? That's right, I'm tlaking to you, Bruce Richards and Kyle Roberts. Do you know what destiny is? Have you any idea how much destiny can fit into the heart of a teenaged boy, how much of a boy's soul can be consumed and replaced by nothing but pure, unadulterated destiny? Having moved onto the NAPW, I'm sure you wouldn't, but back here in Gastown, we know the hurt, the pain, the sorrow that comes from destiny, how it must break someone inside in order to fit within a body filled with cold, unfeeling organs and blood and nerves and--oh, wait, this is good. Watch this.
[Expositioner turns his attention to the screen, where the boy starts to sing his solo. It's not a very complex or transcendant performance, but the boy is a good singer and the audience appears pleased.]
EXPOSITIONER: (starts to speak, realizes he's forgotten his place, begins silently mouthing through his previous speech very rapidly. Finally remembers where he left off.) --cold, unfeeling organs and blood and nerves and muscles. Oh, the humanity. New and Improved D-X, destiny is not a small thing to be laughed at and mocked like Pauly Shore in "Son-in-Law" or "Jury Duty," nor is it to be ridiculed like Carrot Top in "Chairman of the Board," nor should it be completely ignored like the films of Yahoo Serious. No, former friends, Kylin' Style and Bruce Britches, destiny resides in the body of a former young boy who sang his heart out that night and is now a mighty man! He has grown and trained and practised so that he could live up to his destiny! A man who is destiny-licious, full of that destiny but short on a couple of other things! That man is the Expositioner, less one appendix and many pints of blood which have very slowly, agonizingly slowly, been naturally replenished by his regular daily functioning and not doing anything too strenuous--
[The screen goes dark and the room lights come back up as the camera is jostled and falls on its side onto what appears to be a school desk, judging by the similar desks arranged in neat rows in front of it. Expositioner is still in view, but is now joined by the sleek royal blue pants of a shorter man. When he speaks, it is obvious he is the off-camera voice from before.]
VOICE: (annoyed, yet trying very hard to be patient) Okay, first of all, you told me your part was short. Second, it's easier to use less words than to try and get through all your words faster. Third, 'Kylin' Style and Bruce Britches'? Fourth, we're running REALLY short on time, so get over there and fix the camera.
EXPOSITIONER: All right, M--.
NINJA: Hey! What did I say about my name? NEVER say my name! It is not for the likes of you heathens, understand? None of you are worthy!
[Expositioner's legs scamper out of frame. A moment later, the camera is righted to show Mystic Ninja standing beside the screen. A short Chinese man, he sports very anime-like spiked, frosted blue hair. He is wearing a similar lab coat over his costume, but his is obviously intended for a child and is far too small for him. He cannot bend or move his arms very much, leaving them sticking out to the sides, and he appears to be in great discomfort.]
MYSTIC NINJA: Bruce Richards, Kyle Roberts, you'll be pleased to know that all of the boys at Gastown can't wait for our match on Tuesday. Former friends and enemies alike, everyone is eager to see how D-X fares against the reigning tag team champions of the Gastown Wrestling Alliance. Hahahahahahahaaa!
[MYSTIC NINJA tries to put his hands on his hips, but can't quite move them down all the way. The best he can accomplish is to point then down at a 45-degree angle. When he finished laughing, he points with one hand and has to angle his body in order to point it at the camera.]
MYSTIC NINJA: At Tuesday Night Fights, the Mystic Ninja and the Expositioner will show you just how it feels to be on the receiving end of a minor-league beatdown. we'll show you how two seemingly disparate wrestlers like us can unite to form the greatest tag team Gastown has ever known. We will show...
[The next part of NINJA's speech fades into the background as the microphone picks up a much closer source of sound: the Expositioner, standing behind the camera. NINJA is unaware that he is being upstaged.]
EXPOSITIONER: (off-camera, speaking low) Relegated to camera work, the Expositioner bides his time. He knows that soon, he will have his chance to speak, his moment in the limelight. Ah, limelight. Few appreciate the ingenuity of generations past, when theatres and music halls were brightened by the candoluminescent light produced when oxyhydrogen flame is set on a cylinder of calcium oxide, or lime. Hence 'lime light.' Oh, Goldsworthy Gurney, without men of brilliance such as yourself, Robert Hare and Thomas Drummond, where would we be? Heh, the Expositioner made a pun, a play on the concept of illum--
[MYSTIC NINJA has stopped by now and stares toward the camera, growing increasingly upset.]
MYSTIC NINJA: Are you talking over my speech? Damn it, Expo! How long have you been talking? Did they catch ANY of my rhymes? And you know how long I worked on that soliloquy!
EXPOSITIONER: (off-camera) Sorry, M--
[MYSTIC NINJA glares daggers at the camera.]
EXPOSITIONER: (off-camera) --I mean, Ninja. How much time do we have left?
MYSTIC NINJA: The teacher should be coming in to prepare the classroom in half an hour, so we should wrap it up and return everything to the A/V room before that. Come on, we need to do that thing for the finish.
[The camera shifts a little, then settles down as Expositioner walks over to join the Mystic Ninja. The two in their mismatched and wrong-sized lab coats look ridiculous.]
MYSTIC NINJA: At Tuesday Night Fights, D-X, the Mystic Ninja and the Expositioner will be victorious...
EXPOSITIONER: ...and the oh so mighty NAPW Tag Team Champions will fall to the glory of the Gastown Wrestling Alliance.
MYSTIC NINJA: (poses) The Shuriken Press!
EXPOSITIONER: (poses) The X-Pound!
MYSTIC NINJA: (poses) The Sharpshooter!
EXPOSITIONER: (poses) The X-Planation!
MYSTIC NINJA: (poses) The Mystic Crossface!
EXPOSITIONER: (poses) Position-X!
MYSTIC NINJA and EXPOSITIONER: These will be your undoing!
[The two hold their poses for 10 seconds, then release them.]
EXPOSITIONER: Was that good? I thought that went pretty well, considering the problems at the start and we sound like anime characters when we do that pose thing.
MYSTIC NINJA: Yeah, it felt good. Sorry I barked at you, but we didn't have time for another 'Expositioner vs. The Masters of Evil, Opus 76,' know what I mean?
EXPOSITIONER: I know, Ninja, I know. Sorry, I got carried away. But we can fix it in editing?
MYSTIC NINJA: Sure can. We can even add special effects to that pose thing to make it look extra cool! We better clean up this room before--
MYSTIC NINJA: Aw, craptrap! That clock must be wrong! Quick, let's get outta here! I'll dump the lab coats, you grab the camera! And watch out for that teacher!
EXPOSITIONER: Bingo tango, buddy!
[Expositioner runs off-camera while Mystic Ninja continues to have trouble with his lab coat. The camera shakes and is jostled as its carrier turns toward the door of the classroom, where a teacher has just opened the door and now stands, agog. Ninja leaps into frame, having somehow removed his tiny lab coat, and throws something at the teacher's head. The object explodes into a cloud of thick white powder, which sends the teacher gasping and choking to the floor, no longer a threat. The camera dips down to the desk, where a hand can be seen carving something onto the desk's surface with a utility knife.]
MYSTIC NINJA: (off-camera) Expo! Come on! What are--it's not that 'Kilroy was here' crap again, is it?
EXPOSITIONER: (off-camera) Maybe.
MYSTIC NINJA: (off-camera) Come ON! We can't edit this tape as it is! We shouldn't be too late to hand it in as well!
EXPOSITIONER: (off-camera) Okay okay, I'm coming.
[The camera stops shaking and focuses on a section of desk that's been carved with a knife. We zoom into to see the word 'Kilroy' carved there in beautiful, flowing calligraphy. After a second or two, the view rises and turns to the door, shaking as the camera carrier avoids desks on the way to the door. Ninja has dragged the choking and coughing teacher out of the doorway and has propped her up against a bookshelf. He pulls a styrofoam cup full of water from somewhere on his person and puts it in the teacher's hand. Ninja jogs out the door and into a sea of small children and the camera follows him.]
MYSTIC NINJA: (looking back at the camera) You're going to have to tell me what that 'Kilroy' stuff means one of these days.
[Ninja turns a corner. The camera, still moving, turns around to show the close-up face of the Expositioner, who is awkwardly holding the camera while trying to run through an ocean of giggling, screaming kids. He gives the camera an exaggerated wink.]
EXPOSITIONER: Good evening, and welcome to the first in a short series of expository video segments where you, the viewer, will be treated to a short history of the conflict between two pairs of combatants. The man currently visible in your video frame is the Expositioner, one of a pair of professional wrestlers competing at this week's Tuesday Night Fights. For broadcast times, please consult your local television schedule.
[The Expositioner nods at someone off-camera. The room lights dim and the screen lights up with the black-and-white countdown. 5... 4... 3.... The 2 vanishes abruptly, and a second later, we are watching an old home video, probably from the late-70s or early-80s, judging by the video quality. A quiet North American neighbourhood, a small but well-kept house and yard, and a young preschool-aged Caucasian boy playing cars and trucks on the front lawn. He looks up from his cars briefly to wave at the camera, then returns to his games.]
EXPOSITIONER: We begin tonight's segment with some background on one of the tag teams competing on Tuesday.
VOICE FROM OFF-CAMERA: Keep it short this time, Expo.
EXPOSITIONER: (speaking a little faster than he did before) The boy you see here is a dreamer. His young imagination is fertile ground for all manner of flights of fantasy, from dragons to space aliens, superheroes to real-life heroes, from soldiers to societies of Tinkertoy men, from race car drivers to dinosaurs to the cops and robbers that he sees on television every day, from cartoon gerbils to grocery store clerks, from wombat gardeners to three-legged robot lawyers who save orphanages from fat Belgian stop signs, from the tallest ladder-beast to the smallest micro-sandwich expedition, from John Ritter's brilliant portrayal of restauranteur Jack Tripper to the musical stylings of The Knack, from the transvestite hook--
VOICE: Shorter, Expo!
[EXPOSITIONER nods quickly, then gestures off-camera again. The video on screen shuts off, replaced by another. This time, it's a junior high school Christmas concert. A group of kids are singing to piano accompaniment under the direction of a music teacher's conducting. As they sing, one boy in the front row steps forward a few paces, obviously preparing for his solo.]
EXPOSITIONER: (speaking significantly faster than before) Do you know what destiny is? That's right, I'm tlaking to you, Bruce Richards and Kyle Roberts. Do you know what destiny is? Have you any idea how much destiny can fit into the heart of a teenaged boy, how much of a boy's soul can be consumed and replaced by nothing but pure, unadulterated destiny? Having moved onto the NAPW, I'm sure you wouldn't, but back here in Gastown, we know the hurt, the pain, the sorrow that comes from destiny, how it must break someone inside in order to fit within a body filled with cold, unfeeling organs and blood and nerves and--oh, wait, this is good. Watch this.
[Expositioner turns his attention to the screen, where the boy starts to sing his solo. It's not a very complex or transcendant performance, but the boy is a good singer and the audience appears pleased.]
EXPOSITIONER: (starts to speak, realizes he's forgotten his place, begins silently mouthing through his previous speech very rapidly. Finally remembers where he left off.) --cold, unfeeling organs and blood and nerves and muscles. Oh, the humanity. New and Improved D-X, destiny is not a small thing to be laughed at and mocked like Pauly Shore in "Son-in-Law" or "Jury Duty," nor is it to be ridiculed like Carrot Top in "Chairman of the Board," nor should it be completely ignored like the films of Yahoo Serious. No, former friends, Kylin' Style and Bruce Britches, destiny resides in the body of a former young boy who sang his heart out that night and is now a mighty man! He has grown and trained and practised so that he could live up to his destiny! A man who is destiny-licious, full of that destiny but short on a couple of other things! That man is the Expositioner, less one appendix and many pints of blood which have very slowly, agonizingly slowly, been naturally replenished by his regular daily functioning and not doing anything too strenuous--
[The screen goes dark and the room lights come back up as the camera is jostled and falls on its side onto what appears to be a school desk, judging by the similar desks arranged in neat rows in front of it. Expositioner is still in view, but is now joined by the sleek royal blue pants of a shorter man. When he speaks, it is obvious he is the off-camera voice from before.]
VOICE: (annoyed, yet trying very hard to be patient) Okay, first of all, you told me your part was short. Second, it's easier to use less words than to try and get through all your words faster. Third, 'Kylin' Style and Bruce Britches'? Fourth, we're running REALLY short on time, so get over there and fix the camera.
EXPOSITIONER: All right, M--.
NINJA: Hey! What did I say about my name? NEVER say my name! It is not for the likes of you heathens, understand? None of you are worthy!
[Expositioner's legs scamper out of frame. A moment later, the camera is righted to show Mystic Ninja standing beside the screen. A short Chinese man, he sports very anime-like spiked, frosted blue hair. He is wearing a similar lab coat over his costume, but his is obviously intended for a child and is far too small for him. He cannot bend or move his arms very much, leaving them sticking out to the sides, and he appears to be in great discomfort.]
MYSTIC NINJA: Bruce Richards, Kyle Roberts, you'll be pleased to know that all of the boys at Gastown can't wait for our match on Tuesday. Former friends and enemies alike, everyone is eager to see how D-X fares against the reigning tag team champions of the Gastown Wrestling Alliance. Hahahahahahahaaa!
[MYSTIC NINJA tries to put his hands on his hips, but can't quite move them down all the way. The best he can accomplish is to point then down at a 45-degree angle. When he finished laughing, he points with one hand and has to angle his body in order to point it at the camera.]
MYSTIC NINJA: At Tuesday Night Fights, the Mystic Ninja and the Expositioner will show you just how it feels to be on the receiving end of a minor-league beatdown. we'll show you how two seemingly disparate wrestlers like us can unite to form the greatest tag team Gastown has ever known. We will show...
[The next part of NINJA's speech fades into the background as the microphone picks up a much closer source of sound: the Expositioner, standing behind the camera. NINJA is unaware that he is being upstaged.]
EXPOSITIONER: (off-camera, speaking low) Relegated to camera work, the Expositioner bides his time. He knows that soon, he will have his chance to speak, his moment in the limelight. Ah, limelight. Few appreciate the ingenuity of generations past, when theatres and music halls were brightened by the candoluminescent light produced when oxyhydrogen flame is set on a cylinder of calcium oxide, or lime. Hence 'lime light.' Oh, Goldsworthy Gurney, without men of brilliance such as yourself, Robert Hare and Thomas Drummond, where would we be? Heh, the Expositioner made a pun, a play on the concept of illum--
[MYSTIC NINJA has stopped by now and stares toward the camera, growing increasingly upset.]
MYSTIC NINJA: Are you talking over my speech? Damn it, Expo! How long have you been talking? Did they catch ANY of my rhymes? And you know how long I worked on that soliloquy!
EXPOSITIONER: (off-camera) Sorry, M--
[MYSTIC NINJA glares daggers at the camera.]
EXPOSITIONER: (off-camera) --I mean, Ninja. How much time do we have left?
MYSTIC NINJA: The teacher should be coming in to prepare the classroom in half an hour, so we should wrap it up and return everything to the A/V room before that. Come on, we need to do that thing for the finish.
[The camera shifts a little, then settles down as Expositioner walks over to join the Mystic Ninja. The two in their mismatched and wrong-sized lab coats look ridiculous.]
MYSTIC NINJA: At Tuesday Night Fights, D-X, the Mystic Ninja and the Expositioner will be victorious...
EXPOSITIONER: ...and the oh so mighty NAPW Tag Team Champions will fall to the glory of the Gastown Wrestling Alliance.
MYSTIC NINJA: (poses) The Shuriken Press!
EXPOSITIONER: (poses) The X-Pound!
MYSTIC NINJA: (poses) The Sharpshooter!
EXPOSITIONER: (poses) The X-Planation!
MYSTIC NINJA: (poses) The Mystic Crossface!
EXPOSITIONER: (poses) Position-X!
MYSTIC NINJA and EXPOSITIONER: These will be your undoing!
[The two hold their poses for 10 seconds, then release them.]
EXPOSITIONER: Was that good? I thought that went pretty well, considering the problems at the start and we sound like anime characters when we do that pose thing.
MYSTIC NINJA: Yeah, it felt good. Sorry I barked at you, but we didn't have time for another 'Expositioner vs. The Masters of Evil, Opus 76,' know what I mean?
EXPOSITIONER: I know, Ninja, I know. Sorry, I got carried away. But we can fix it in editing?
MYSTIC NINJA: Sure can. We can even add special effects to that pose thing to make it look extra cool! We better clean up this room before--
MYSTIC NINJA: Aw, craptrap! That clock must be wrong! Quick, let's get outta here! I'll dump the lab coats, you grab the camera! And watch out for that teacher!
EXPOSITIONER: Bingo tango, buddy!
[Expositioner runs off-camera while Mystic Ninja continues to have trouble with his lab coat. The camera shakes and is jostled as its carrier turns toward the door of the classroom, where a teacher has just opened the door and now stands, agog. Ninja leaps into frame, having somehow removed his tiny lab coat, and throws something at the teacher's head. The object explodes into a cloud of thick white powder, which sends the teacher gasping and choking to the floor, no longer a threat. The camera dips down to the desk, where a hand can be seen carving something onto the desk's surface with a utility knife.]
MYSTIC NINJA: (off-camera) Expo! Come on! What are--it's not that 'Kilroy was here' crap again, is it?
EXPOSITIONER: (off-camera) Maybe.
MYSTIC NINJA: (off-camera) Come ON! We can't edit this tape as it is! We shouldn't be too late to hand it in as well!
EXPOSITIONER: (off-camera) Okay okay, I'm coming.
[The camera stops shaking and focuses on a section of desk that's been carved with a knife. We zoom into to see the word 'Kilroy' carved there in beautiful, flowing calligraphy. After a second or two, the view rises and turns to the door, shaking as the camera carrier avoids desks on the way to the door. Ninja has dragged the choking and coughing teacher out of the doorway and has propped her up against a bookshelf. He pulls a styrofoam cup full of water from somewhere on his person and puts it in the teacher's hand. Ninja jogs out the door and into a sea of small children and the camera follows him.]
MYSTIC NINJA: (looking back at the camera) You're going to have to tell me what that 'Kilroy' stuff means one of these days.
[Ninja turns a corner. The camera, still moving, turns around to show the close-up face of the Expositioner, who is awkwardly holding the camera while trying to run through an ocean of giggling, screaming kids. He gives the camera an exaggerated wink.]