Post by Nightmare on Jan 31, 2006 19:07:46 GMT -5
We fade in to the cold Edmonton street, just outside of the NAIT Athletic center, about twenty minutes after Monday Night Fights. People hurriedly exit the building, pouring into the icy streets, or into their vehicles, frantically trying to make their way home. we hear various curses and complaints on Predator's loss, and some people merely overly excited, awaiting Action! that coming Thursday. Off-camera, we hear someone curse because of an empty gas tank. Up on the rooftops we can see a very large, dark figure leaping from roof to roof, obviously The Predator. The street lights are hardly making a difference on the dark streets, nor is the moonlight. The crisp, cold, January air sends violent chills down our spines, as the smell of now burning gasoline fills our nostrils.
Cut to the back door of the NAIT Athletic Center, which is now burst open, and Blake rushes out of the building heading for a small, black compact car, that seems to be in dire need of wash. Breathing heavily, Blake opens the driver side door of the car, and searches a small set of rings for the key to start it, checking the door as though someone were chasing him. Finally, he has found the right key, and the car violently starts, and zooms off just as Apocalypse bursts out of the building wearing his usual in-ring attire, and chases the car down the alley. The camera man tries frantically to keep up. Defeated, Apocalypse comes to a stop and growls, snarling and spitting in the direction of the car that is now zooming out of sight.
Cut. Apocalypse is running down a long, narrow alley between a series of large buildings. He runs through the alley, searching the gaps between the buildings, as though he was looking for something; or someone. He comes to a stop at another street, and turns left, still chasing Blake, apparently. He turns into another alleyway, and comes to an abrupt stop. Who better to block his way, than a rambunctious Crusher, wearing a long black trenchcoat, smirking at a now panting Apocalypse.
Apocalypse: What the Hell do you want?
Crusher now has the sort of look on his face that he has been very badly put down. He walks over to a now backed off Apocalypse and tries to measure up to the man who is a mere one inch taller. He smirks at the masked face of Apocalypse, sarcastically.
Crusher: Cause, and effect, Apocalypse. You and I are put together to defeat the (air quotes) "Family", and I am here to talk to you about it. (snickers) Capeesh?
Apocalypse smiles, and that smile widens, and widens, until he bursts into laughter. Crusher does not seem to be amused in the least. Apocalypse very quickly cuts out of his high-pitched, diabolical laughter, and looks straight into the eyes of his partner-to-come behind the dark lenses of his red/black mask.
Apocalypse: (pushing Crusher out of the way) I have no time for this.
He walks over to the wall of the alley, and reaches for a ladder hooked onto a fire escape. Crusher very swiftly grabs Apocalypse's arm. He jerks his head toward Crusher's and growls. Crusher does not seem to be even a little bit intimidated.
Crusher: Correction. We have whole two days! Not a lot of time is it? No. Listen to me, God damn it! We have to prepare for this thing, man!
Apocalypse: (pulling away, forcefully) I don't care. Why should I prepare with you anyway?
Crusher shakes his head, releasing Apocalypse, who doesn't move. Apocalypse leans into Crusher's face, who growls very quietly.
Crusher: Because if we want to win this, we are going to have to work together.
Apocalypse shakes his head--
Apocalypse: F*ck together! If anybody should be having a match against eachother, it's you and me! You know what, f*ck off! I got sh*t to do.
--and with that, he grabs the ladder, and climbs the fire escape above a frowning Crusher.
Cut to the edge of the rooftop where Apocalypse is just ariving. He climbs up onto the roof and sees, to his incredulous amazement, Blake Larkinson acompanied by about two dozen security guards wielding stunning weopons. The smile on Apocalypse's face most definately doesn't fit the situation.
Cut to the alley where Crusher is standing impatiently looking up to the roof where Apocalypse has left the picture. He sighs, and turns around to head home, just when the limp body of Apocalypse lands on the ground behind him with a *thump* following the *buzz* of an electric shock. Crusher hurriedly walks over to Apocalypse, and looks down at his smiling, masked face.
Crusher: Good sense of humour?
Apocalypse laughs and stands.
Apocalypse: That rat bastard's got the entire f*cking city against me.
Crusher: Who? Blake?
Apocalypse nods, wearily. Crusher thinks for a moment and snaps his fingers.
Crusher: So . . . he got his ass kicked by Brandon . . . and you are chasing him dow for that?
Apocalypse looks at Crusher, disgustedly, and shakes his head.
Apocalypse: I saw his post on NAPW.ca. Only after the match though.
Crusher nods, understandingly. He then slaps Apocalypse's shoulder and raises his arms to the side.
Crusher: Well, let's go kick his ass! How hard could it be, right?
Apocalypse looks at Crusher, shrugs, and they both head for the ladder.
--------
Crusher and Predator appear with permission.
Crusher writes part 2!
Cut to the back door of the NAIT Athletic Center, which is now burst open, and Blake rushes out of the building heading for a small, black compact car, that seems to be in dire need of wash. Breathing heavily, Blake opens the driver side door of the car, and searches a small set of rings for the key to start it, checking the door as though someone were chasing him. Finally, he has found the right key, and the car violently starts, and zooms off just as Apocalypse bursts out of the building wearing his usual in-ring attire, and chases the car down the alley. The camera man tries frantically to keep up. Defeated, Apocalypse comes to a stop and growls, snarling and spitting in the direction of the car that is now zooming out of sight.
Cut. Apocalypse is running down a long, narrow alley between a series of large buildings. He runs through the alley, searching the gaps between the buildings, as though he was looking for something; or someone. He comes to a stop at another street, and turns left, still chasing Blake, apparently. He turns into another alleyway, and comes to an abrupt stop. Who better to block his way, than a rambunctious Crusher, wearing a long black trenchcoat, smirking at a now panting Apocalypse.
Apocalypse: What the Hell do you want?
Crusher now has the sort of look on his face that he has been very badly put down. He walks over to a now backed off Apocalypse and tries to measure up to the man who is a mere one inch taller. He smirks at the masked face of Apocalypse, sarcastically.
Crusher: Cause, and effect, Apocalypse. You and I are put together to defeat the (air quotes) "Family", and I am here to talk to you about it. (snickers) Capeesh?
Apocalypse smiles, and that smile widens, and widens, until he bursts into laughter. Crusher does not seem to be amused in the least. Apocalypse very quickly cuts out of his high-pitched, diabolical laughter, and looks straight into the eyes of his partner-to-come behind the dark lenses of his red/black mask.
Apocalypse: (pushing Crusher out of the way) I have no time for this.
He walks over to the wall of the alley, and reaches for a ladder hooked onto a fire escape. Crusher very swiftly grabs Apocalypse's arm. He jerks his head toward Crusher's and growls. Crusher does not seem to be even a little bit intimidated.
Crusher: Correction. We have whole two days! Not a lot of time is it? No. Listen to me, God damn it! We have to prepare for this thing, man!
Apocalypse: (pulling away, forcefully) I don't care. Why should I prepare with you anyway?
Crusher shakes his head, releasing Apocalypse, who doesn't move. Apocalypse leans into Crusher's face, who growls very quietly.
Crusher: Because if we want to win this, we are going to have to work together.
Apocalypse shakes his head--
Apocalypse: F*ck together! If anybody should be having a match against eachother, it's you and me! You know what, f*ck off! I got sh*t to do.
--and with that, he grabs the ladder, and climbs the fire escape above a frowning Crusher.
Cut to the edge of the rooftop where Apocalypse is just ariving. He climbs up onto the roof and sees, to his incredulous amazement, Blake Larkinson acompanied by about two dozen security guards wielding stunning weopons. The smile on Apocalypse's face most definately doesn't fit the situation.
Cut to the alley where Crusher is standing impatiently looking up to the roof where Apocalypse has left the picture. He sighs, and turns around to head home, just when the limp body of Apocalypse lands on the ground behind him with a *thump* following the *buzz* of an electric shock. Crusher hurriedly walks over to Apocalypse, and looks down at his smiling, masked face.
Crusher: Good sense of humour?
Apocalypse laughs and stands.
Apocalypse: That rat bastard's got the entire f*cking city against me.
Crusher: Who? Blake?
Apocalypse nods, wearily. Crusher thinks for a moment and snaps his fingers.
Crusher: So . . . he got his ass kicked by Brandon . . . and you are chasing him dow for that?
Apocalypse looks at Crusher, disgustedly, and shakes his head.
Apocalypse: I saw his post on NAPW.ca. Only after the match though.
Crusher nods, understandingly. He then slaps Apocalypse's shoulder and raises his arms to the side.
Crusher: Well, let's go kick his ass! How hard could it be, right?
Apocalypse looks at Crusher, shrugs, and they both head for the ladder.
--------
Crusher and Predator appear with permission.
Crusher writes part 2!