Post by theminstrel on Jan 20, 2006 17:15:25 GMT -5
[Fade in on a kitchen, it’s a rather simple kitchen that appears to be in a fairly spacious apartment. The countertop is wooden, with a fiberglass covering that is a dark blue with wooden cabinets and drawers. There is a stove, oven, dishwasher, and a toaster oven all around where we are currently viewing. A slight turn reveals another part of the countertop with chairs seated there, in between this area the one mentioned before sits a sink. Turning once more we see a steel refrigerator…]
[And someone leaning into it. It appears to be a woman, judging from the long hair draping down and the shape of figure. She wears a pair of grey sweatpants and a t-shirt. She grabs a couple of eggs and the orange juice out of the fridge]
[She closes the refrigerator door and turns, this is when we see that this woman is Lisa Hordem, enjoying a day off after a night of all night fun. As they say good nights are often followed by bad mornings. She is not smiling as is fairly obviously hungover, as she walks to the countertop. She places the eggs and orange juice down and reaches down to get herself a frying pan]
-Damn mixed drinks are always so good and at the same time always so bad-
[She places the frying pan down and also pulls the cooking spray out of the cabinet. She sprays it onto the pan and then places the spray back in. She cracks the eggs]
-Boy, I’ve haven’t had a night like that in a long time. When did life get so serious? I mean, I’m not that old yet-
[We listen as the eggs simmer on the pan. She rubs her head and walks to the countertop opposite her current location and reaches up, pulling out a glass. She pours the orange juice]
-I’ll tell you, Marcus sure knows how to live. No wonder Willie was his friend, he probably wouldn’t have broken down if he hung out with him some more. I wonder how he’s doing anyway… I’ll pay him a visit soon-
[She sips at the orange juice then with spatchula flips the eggs over. She turns back towards the opposite cabinets to get herself a plate]
-Do I have anything to wear on Sunday? Wait, what does someone wear to a wrestling event?-
[Her face shows a slight bit of panic with her thought process, which she then shakes her head and shrugs off]
-Ah, don’t worry about it; Marcus will make you feel right at home. Heh, knowing him he’ll probably have a whole wardrobe on hand-
[She smiles as she pours her eggs onto the plate and places them down on the countertop]
-I got to admit, I don’t think I’ve been this excited about someone new in a while. The male gender is just so far behind sometimes, but Marcus has something about him that, I don’t know… A lot of people don’t-
[She grabs her orange juice and takes a seat, she giggles slightly]
-Well, besides money… What the hell am I doing? I need a fork to eat these-
[She rolls her eyes as she reaches into the drawer next to her and pulls out a fork. As she leans we get a slight view of the pink thong she has on]
-I hope the alcohol doesn’t leave me completely retarded-
[She smiles again as she cuts the first piece of egg with the knife]
[Cut away]
[Fade in as the white walls surround William Hordem as his bald head drips with perspiration. From the outside the walls seem to suffocate and the straight jacket only looks like it is an extension from the walls. Like the jacket sprung from the padded walls and wants to engulf the man. William since we last seen him has noticeably lost weight, which makes us wonder just how much his left of his mind, is there any hope]
[His eyes dart back and forth in panic as though he’s waiting for another arm from the wall to spring out and this time engulf his head, cutting off the entire air supply. Suddenly from outside the door, we hear the faint sound of footsteps. William begins to rock slightly back and forth]
Hordem: This isn’t funny… This isn’t funny anymore…
[As the footsteps come closer the rocking becomes more frantic. The white, which a moment ago could’ve been mistaken for innocence now, can only mean fragility. As it looks like Hordem might shatter with the grass as the footsteps seem to boom closer]
Hordem: This isn’t funny. This isn’t funny. This isn’t funny.
[The footsteps stop, but through the door outside of the cell, we can see a figure. There is a slight jingle of keys and then the click of a lock being unlocked. The door opens slowly as Hordem stops in mid-motion to close his eyes]
[Through the door wearing a bright purple suit with a green shirt, his face hidden by his mask, is the Minstrel. He does a sad interpretation of ballet as he enters the room. Hordem stands still as though he’ll fade in with the background if he doesn’t move. The Minstrel puts his face and mask up against the glass]
Minstrel: BIG WILLIE STYLES!
[Hordem just blinks, careful, not to encourage anymore outrageous behavior by reacting in any specific way. The Minstrel removes his face from up against the glass and reaches into his jacket, pulling out an envelope]
Minstrel: I’ve got some fan mail.
[He says this shaking an envelope, which he opens and removes several pieces of paper from it before he drops them into the slot in the glass cell. Hordem at first doesn’t move. The Minstrel steps away from the slot]
Minstrel: Oh, Willie, you mustn’t keep your fans waiting.
[Hordem looks at the items on the floor of his cell then looks back up at the Minstrel, who is looking very intently at his white gloves. Hordem crawls over to them; we also zoom in to catch a glimpse. The pictures show Marcus and Lisa walking together, having a drink together, and kissing. Hordem’s eyes go wild]
Hordem: NO! DON’T YOU LET HIM (BLEEP)ING TOUCH HER! YOU SADISTIC (BLEEP!)
[The Minstrel covers the mouth of his mask in shock of Hordem’s language]
Minstrel: I’m sorry Willie, I can’t guarantee that it hasn’t happened already.
[ Hordem uses the wall to get to his feet then takes a few steps back and makes a bee line for the fiberglass separating him and the Minstrel. He collides head on with it and, of course, the fiberglass wins this battle as Hordem is laid out unconscious with blood dripping from his forehead. Panning back to the Minstrel, we watch as he takes a bow and then exits the room]
[Cut away]
[Fade in on a room with blue carpet and some flowers in the corners. There is a heater in the room and a massage table. Marcus Trapier lies on this table with his backside up and towel covering his lower half. He looks up with a content smile on his face as he enjoys the soothing music and soothing surroundings]
[Also in the room is a woman of Asian descent dressed in white, who is organizing various oils in a carry bucket of some type, she is apparently preparing or planning the massage that is about to take place. We pan back to Marcus, who looks like he’s anticipating heaven on earth in just a moment]
Trapier: Nothing like a massage to cure what ails you from the night before.
[He smirks as he stretches out a little bit more on the table]
Trapier: So J.C., I figured I’d try my luck speaking to you since you don’t seem to be able to comprehend a word the Funny Man says. I mean he told you that he would give you your little stipulation and then you went on a rant about how he was scared of you. Because he wouldn’t give you said stipulation. That doesn’t make any sense.
[He shakes his head and rolls his eyes as the masseuse puts oil on her hands and begins to rub Marcus’ back. Marcus’ face goes from one of disgust to delight. He lies down, but continues to look at the camera]
Trapier: I don’t know maybe that also got lost in the translation while he was doing some shopping for Joker’s Wild, I mean I see card tricks distract you. I guess shopping could have distracted you...
[He is interrupted as his eyes almost bulge out of his head as he breathes heavily then returns to us with a content smile after a moment]
Trapier: And I guess you were also distracted when he said he’s won all his OTHER matches by himself. And in case you need clarification that means besides the previous match, you jackass.
[He lets out a slight groan of pleasure as she must’ve hit one of his tense spots, which is not all that surprising considering his involvement in the current topic. He once again attempts to relax and then looks back to the camera with a small grin on his face]
Trapier: I really fail to understand how you could call the Minstrel less of a man then some has-been scrub. Here is a guy, who has come into this fed and taken down every man in his path and yet he’s half the man of a guy who failed to even hold a belt… That also doesn’t make any sense, especially after the Funny Guy gave you props, trust me he doesn’t do that a whole lot.
[He closes his eyes and lips words that unrepeatable on this network]
Trapier: You know J.C., your moral idea that something done cleanly is worth more then something done not so cleanly…
[He chuckles a bit]
Trapier: Is bullshit. J.C., my fortune has been assembled… By underground means. I now co-own a casino, I have mansion, and I am set for the rest of my life. And let me tell you… My money spends the same as Bill Gates’, which makes it just as worth it.
[He puts his head into the rest of the table and mutters something then looks up in euphoria]
Trapier: A win is a win, just as you noted. It’s one more in the left hand column regardless of whether you won by not using even so much as a chokehold or if you knocked the guy into next week with a chair shot. Morality is for pussies, winning is for…
[He smirks]
Trapier: Winners. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some business to attend to.
[He puts his face down onto the rest on the massage table as the masseuse does her magic]
[Cut away]
[And someone leaning into it. It appears to be a woman, judging from the long hair draping down and the shape of figure. She wears a pair of grey sweatpants and a t-shirt. She grabs a couple of eggs and the orange juice out of the fridge]
[She closes the refrigerator door and turns, this is when we see that this woman is Lisa Hordem, enjoying a day off after a night of all night fun. As they say good nights are often followed by bad mornings. She is not smiling as is fairly obviously hungover, as she walks to the countertop. She places the eggs and orange juice down and reaches down to get herself a frying pan]
-Damn mixed drinks are always so good and at the same time always so bad-
[She places the frying pan down and also pulls the cooking spray out of the cabinet. She sprays it onto the pan and then places the spray back in. She cracks the eggs]
-Boy, I’ve haven’t had a night like that in a long time. When did life get so serious? I mean, I’m not that old yet-
[We listen as the eggs simmer on the pan. She rubs her head and walks to the countertop opposite her current location and reaches up, pulling out a glass. She pours the orange juice]
-I’ll tell you, Marcus sure knows how to live. No wonder Willie was his friend, he probably wouldn’t have broken down if he hung out with him some more. I wonder how he’s doing anyway… I’ll pay him a visit soon-
[She sips at the orange juice then with spatchula flips the eggs over. She turns back towards the opposite cabinets to get herself a plate]
-Do I have anything to wear on Sunday? Wait, what does someone wear to a wrestling event?-
[Her face shows a slight bit of panic with her thought process, which she then shakes her head and shrugs off]
-Ah, don’t worry about it; Marcus will make you feel right at home. Heh, knowing him he’ll probably have a whole wardrobe on hand-
[She smiles as she pours her eggs onto the plate and places them down on the countertop]
-I got to admit, I don’t think I’ve been this excited about someone new in a while. The male gender is just so far behind sometimes, but Marcus has something about him that, I don’t know… A lot of people don’t-
[She grabs her orange juice and takes a seat, she giggles slightly]
-Well, besides money… What the hell am I doing? I need a fork to eat these-
[She rolls her eyes as she reaches into the drawer next to her and pulls out a fork. As she leans we get a slight view of the pink thong she has on]
-I hope the alcohol doesn’t leave me completely retarded-
[She smiles again as she cuts the first piece of egg with the knife]
[Cut away]
[Fade in as the white walls surround William Hordem as his bald head drips with perspiration. From the outside the walls seem to suffocate and the straight jacket only looks like it is an extension from the walls. Like the jacket sprung from the padded walls and wants to engulf the man. William since we last seen him has noticeably lost weight, which makes us wonder just how much his left of his mind, is there any hope]
[His eyes dart back and forth in panic as though he’s waiting for another arm from the wall to spring out and this time engulf his head, cutting off the entire air supply. Suddenly from outside the door, we hear the faint sound of footsteps. William begins to rock slightly back and forth]
Hordem: This isn’t funny… This isn’t funny anymore…
[As the footsteps come closer the rocking becomes more frantic. The white, which a moment ago could’ve been mistaken for innocence now, can only mean fragility. As it looks like Hordem might shatter with the grass as the footsteps seem to boom closer]
Hordem: This isn’t funny. This isn’t funny. This isn’t funny.
[The footsteps stop, but through the door outside of the cell, we can see a figure. There is a slight jingle of keys and then the click of a lock being unlocked. The door opens slowly as Hordem stops in mid-motion to close his eyes]
[Through the door wearing a bright purple suit with a green shirt, his face hidden by his mask, is the Minstrel. He does a sad interpretation of ballet as he enters the room. Hordem stands still as though he’ll fade in with the background if he doesn’t move. The Minstrel puts his face and mask up against the glass]
Minstrel: BIG WILLIE STYLES!
[Hordem just blinks, careful, not to encourage anymore outrageous behavior by reacting in any specific way. The Minstrel removes his face from up against the glass and reaches into his jacket, pulling out an envelope]
Minstrel: I’ve got some fan mail.
[He says this shaking an envelope, which he opens and removes several pieces of paper from it before he drops them into the slot in the glass cell. Hordem at first doesn’t move. The Minstrel steps away from the slot]
Minstrel: Oh, Willie, you mustn’t keep your fans waiting.
[Hordem looks at the items on the floor of his cell then looks back up at the Minstrel, who is looking very intently at his white gloves. Hordem crawls over to them; we also zoom in to catch a glimpse. The pictures show Marcus and Lisa walking together, having a drink together, and kissing. Hordem’s eyes go wild]
Hordem: NO! DON’T YOU LET HIM (BLEEP)ING TOUCH HER! YOU SADISTIC (BLEEP!)
[The Minstrel covers the mouth of his mask in shock of Hordem’s language]
Minstrel: I’m sorry Willie, I can’t guarantee that it hasn’t happened already.
[ Hordem uses the wall to get to his feet then takes a few steps back and makes a bee line for the fiberglass separating him and the Minstrel. He collides head on with it and, of course, the fiberglass wins this battle as Hordem is laid out unconscious with blood dripping from his forehead. Panning back to the Minstrel, we watch as he takes a bow and then exits the room]
[Cut away]
[Fade in on a room with blue carpet and some flowers in the corners. There is a heater in the room and a massage table. Marcus Trapier lies on this table with his backside up and towel covering his lower half. He looks up with a content smile on his face as he enjoys the soothing music and soothing surroundings]
[Also in the room is a woman of Asian descent dressed in white, who is organizing various oils in a carry bucket of some type, she is apparently preparing or planning the massage that is about to take place. We pan back to Marcus, who looks like he’s anticipating heaven on earth in just a moment]
Trapier: Nothing like a massage to cure what ails you from the night before.
[He smirks as he stretches out a little bit more on the table]
Trapier: So J.C., I figured I’d try my luck speaking to you since you don’t seem to be able to comprehend a word the Funny Man says. I mean he told you that he would give you your little stipulation and then you went on a rant about how he was scared of you. Because he wouldn’t give you said stipulation. That doesn’t make any sense.
[He shakes his head and rolls his eyes as the masseuse puts oil on her hands and begins to rub Marcus’ back. Marcus’ face goes from one of disgust to delight. He lies down, but continues to look at the camera]
Trapier: I don’t know maybe that also got lost in the translation while he was doing some shopping for Joker’s Wild, I mean I see card tricks distract you. I guess shopping could have distracted you...
[He is interrupted as his eyes almost bulge out of his head as he breathes heavily then returns to us with a content smile after a moment]
Trapier: And I guess you were also distracted when he said he’s won all his OTHER matches by himself. And in case you need clarification that means besides the previous match, you jackass.
[He lets out a slight groan of pleasure as she must’ve hit one of his tense spots, which is not all that surprising considering his involvement in the current topic. He once again attempts to relax and then looks back to the camera with a small grin on his face]
Trapier: I really fail to understand how you could call the Minstrel less of a man then some has-been scrub. Here is a guy, who has come into this fed and taken down every man in his path and yet he’s half the man of a guy who failed to even hold a belt… That also doesn’t make any sense, especially after the Funny Guy gave you props, trust me he doesn’t do that a whole lot.
[He closes his eyes and lips words that unrepeatable on this network]
Trapier: You know J.C., your moral idea that something done cleanly is worth more then something done not so cleanly…
[He chuckles a bit]
Trapier: Is bullshit. J.C., my fortune has been assembled… By underground means. I now co-own a casino, I have mansion, and I am set for the rest of my life. And let me tell you… My money spends the same as Bill Gates’, which makes it just as worth it.
[He puts his head into the rest of the table and mutters something then looks up in euphoria]
Trapier: A win is a win, just as you noted. It’s one more in the left hand column regardless of whether you won by not using even so much as a chokehold or if you knocked the guy into next week with a chair shot. Morality is for pussies, winning is for…
[He smirks]
Trapier: Winners. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some business to attend to.
[He puts his face down onto the rest on the massage table as the masseuse does her magic]
[Cut away]