Post by Deleted on Nov 10, 2012 23:14:06 GMT -5
Milwaukee, Wisconsin. November 4th, 11:45 P.M.
The individual voices of people quickly making their way through the busy Milwaukee sidewalk all mash together, making one constant buzz that drifts up through the skyscrapers that surround. On a cold, blue bench sits Waylon Cash, bottle of beer in one hand, cigarette in the other. His lanky frame is protected from the mid-autumn cold by a brown, leather bomber jacket. He runs his hand over his exposed scalp, and silently laments the act of giving his hat to a fan after the show. The wrestler's head turns quickly, as a leggy young brunette in an ill-advised mini skirt strolls past. Across his face creeps the only smile he's felt since being beaten by NvL earlier in the night. As quickly as it appeared, the smile fades, ans the Hellbilly takes a sip from his half empty bottle.
He had tried to get some sleep, but moments from his losing effort kept playing in his head, like a highlight reel of failure. Eventually, his subconscious forced him to get up, and leave Roxxy to sleep alone in the hotel room. Now, as a cold breeze nips at his neck, he finds his mind drifting to the match again. He beats himself up internally, as the sound of the ref's hand coming down for three, echoes in his mind. Suddenly, a familiar voice rips him from his trance.
Orbit:I know that ain't the Hellbilly sittin' all by himself.
Waylon turns his head, to find Steve Orbit bouncing down the street toward him.
Waylon:Well, if it ain't the Mack.
Cash takes a drag from his cigarette, as Orbit takes the seat next to him. They sit in silence for a couple of minutes, before Waylon speaks.
Waylon:Ain't we a couple of sorry mother fuckers.
Orbit:Hey man, ain't no shame in losin' to NvL.
Waylon:Atreyu either! I told you he was good. You fought a helluva fight though. You oughta be proud.
The silence overcomes them again, as they both just watch people walk by.
Orbit:You know what we gotta do? We gotta do somethin' crazy. We gotta do somethin' that'll make everybody forget about slam, you know what I'm sayin'?
Waylon stares down at the ground, as he takes another drag from his burning cigarette. Suddenly, he springs to life.
Waylon:I got it! We cover the election.
He looks to Steve for an outpouring on enthusiasm, but instead gets a blank stare for his troubles.
Orbit:Who the hell would wanna watch us talk about politicians and shit?
Waylon:Think about it, everyone's gonna be watchin' it anyway. You can't tell me there ain't WCF fans out there who would wanna watch it with their favorite tag team. This is gonna be awesome, I'm tellin' ya.
Orbit thinks about it for a bit, as his eyes catch a young woman in a painted on pair of jeans, walking past.
Orbit:I honestly ain't the kinda guy who pays attention to politics. Pimps don't pay taxes, so it don't make no difference to me, ya know?
Waylon:It don't matter, man! All we do is sit on screen, be awesome for a few hours, and tell people who wins the election. We'll sell a shit ton of Homegrown Players t-shirts, and let the people know they should be payin' attention when we're on the screen.
Steve takes a few minutes to ponder, before rolling his eyes.
Orbit:Aight, but your ass better know what you're talkin' about. I don't need you makin' me look like a dick.
Waylon:Just leave it to me. You don't gotta worry about nothin'. Just make sure you're in Macon on Tuesday.
____ _ _ __ _____ _____
Tuesday, November 6
A plain, block letter graphic flashes on the screen, reading: “Homegrown Players Election Coverage 2012” As the letters fade out, we can see Waylon cash sitting behind what looks to be the desk of a low budget cable access studio. Sitting next to him is his partner, Steve Orbit. Waylon is dressed in a suit jacket that shits on top of a white tank top, and Orbit is clad in a long, purple suit.
Waylon:Hi there WCF fans! If you're watchin' us, it means you got tired of them talkin' heads over on the other channels, and decided to check out the best election team ever! As most of you probably figured by now, I'm Waylon Cash, and this is my boy, Steve Orbit. Say hi to the people.
Orbit:What's up guys. Tonight's gonna be a good night. We gonna watch some states turn red, we gonna watch some states turn blue, and at the end, about half the country is gonna be ready to jump off a cliff.
Waylon:That's a safe bet. Now, from what I understand, you done some research. Why don't you tell the people what you learned.
Orbit:Well, from what I understand, and old white mother fucker, who wants to sell America off to his oil baron homies, is runnin' against the anti-christ, who promises to make abortions mandatory. Also, there's a lotta mother fuckers talkin' about rape when they shouldn't be. Other than that, it's like these bitches be talkin' greek. You know what I'm sayin'?
Waylon:I do, but I ain't sure the fans do. Anyway, this is the point where ain't nothin' been decided yet, so we gotta fill time. Earlier today, I did some filming from a local pollin' place, hopin' to get some shots of democracy in action. Let's roll that now.
Orbit:Wait, you taped shit earlier? I didn't know we could do that. Now I look like I ain't prepared.
The shot of the two men fades out, and is replaced by the image coming from a camera, that follows Waylon across a parking lot. In the background is a church, with white signs hanging on many of the doors. The camera shakes, and wobbles, as the camera man tries desperately to keep up with Waylon, who is speaking into a microphone.
Waylon:Thanks Waylon. We're here at one of the many polling places in Macon. This one happens to be at a Lutheran church, let's see if we can't get in and get some footage of Americans doin' what American's do.
They don't get too much closer to the entrance, before a poll worker dressed in a gray suit runs out toward them. He holds out one of his large hands to impede Waylon's progress.
Worker:I'm sorry. I can't let you in there.
Waylon:Why not?
Worker:This polling place works very hard to keep partisan messages outside. I'm a big fan of yours, but I know you, and you're not exactly without bias. I just can't let you in there unless you're registered to vote here.
Waylon:Look man, I'm doin' a thing, all I want is a little b-roll of people votin' Let me get in, I'll get that, and I'll get out. I swear.
The man rubs his chin, and stares at the ground for a few moments, before looking back up.
Worker:Fine. You get ten minutes. Make it quick, and stay quiet.
Waylon thanks the man, before heading through the doors. The image then fades out, and the words “Two minutes later” flash across the bottom of the screen. When the camera fades back in, we see an image of Waylon Cash being dragged out of the church by three large men.
Waylon:FOUR MORE YEARS! FOUR MORE YEARS! LEGALIZE IT! Let go of me, ya buncha fascists!
We cut back to the studio, where Waylon is calmly reviewing his notes, and Orbit is starring at him with a mixture of confusion, and horror.
Orbit:Um... I noticed you didn't get any footage inside.
Waylon:Not really the point.
Orbit:Then what-
Waylon:It's a bit, let's move on.
Orbit:Aight. We got any updates?
Waylon:Uh... yeah! New Hampshire went blue, Tennessee goes red. Sorry if I don't seem shocked. Right now we gotta kick it to the commercials, and make some money.
Orbit:You got sponsors for this?
Waylon:I was as surprised as you are.
We cut to the image of an older man, with dark brown hair. He is dressed in a black and red suit. He stares into the camera, and begins speaking in a low monotone.
Mourdock:Hello. My name is Richard Mourdock, and I am seeking election to one of Indiana's senate seats. I'm here today to discuss some comments I've made, that have garnered some amount of media attention.
A sound clip of his voice plays over the image.
Mourdock(Voice over) :Even when life begins in that horrible situation of rape, that it is something that God intended to happen.
The voice over fades out, and the current Richard Mourdock begins to speak again.
Mourdock:Now, I would never suggest that a woman be forced to give birth to the baby of her rapist. No human being with a soul would think a barbaric law such as that was anything other than disgusting, and unethical. Although, some of these chicks have it coming, am I right guys? Have you seen some of the thigns these women are wearing? These short-
A voice over quickly comes on, blocking out the rest of Mourdock's tirade.
Voice Over:Paid for by the “Republicans Will Vote for Him Anyway” political action fund.
We cut back to the studio, where Waylon and Orbit are both starring, wide eyed, into the camera.
Waylon:Big Hunter Valentyne fan I see.
Orbit:Ain't that some...
Waylon:What a tool.
Orbit:Cosign.
Waylon quickly shuffles through some of the papers in front of him, before looking back up to the camera.
Waylon:Looks like it's time for an editorial, by our own Steve Orbit. Steve?
We cut to a single shot of Steve Orbit, who is leaning back in his chair, with a smirk on his face.
Orbit:Aight, listen up Republicans. You been usin' a lot of phrases, when talkin' about Obama, that raise some red flags with me, dig? You guys say things like “food stamp president” and “Un-American”. You say he's from Kenya, and call him lazy. Why don't y'all motha fuckas just say what y'all mean? Grow a set of balls, and call him a nig-
Waylon:Whoa! Steve! You can't say that on here. There might be kid's watchin', man!
Orbit:But, I'm black.
Waylon:In this case, doesn't make it ok.
Orbit:Just a lotta double talk for jungle bunny, is all I'm sayin'. If you're gonna be a racist, BE a racist. Ya feel me?
Waylon:I feel you, but I guess we have sponsors now, so we gotta be careful.
Orbit:Aight, why don't we check the map again. Let my ass cool down.
Waylon:We still ain't got to any of the fun states. Massachusets, Vermont, blue. Alabama, and my home state of Georgia, red. Assholes. So no real news, but there is somethin' I wanna talk about. There's a lotta states out there votin' on marijuana laws this year.
Orbit:Mother fucker, you promised.
Waylon: I just wanna make a last minute plea to anyone in those states. Cannabis is a plant that has a million uses. Medicine, fabric, fuel, plastics, just a good old fashioned good time. You can tax it, it'll make millions for your state...
Orbit:Aight Waylon-
Cash stands up, and begins delivering a speech he's had memorized since freshman year, when he delivered it in his speech class.
Waylon:Thomas Jefferson said-
Orbit:No! We ain't doin' this! These people don't wanna hear you talk for three hours about marijuana laws! Damn!
Waylon:I ain't the hero they want, I'm the hero they deserve
Orbit:Sit down, and knock it off! The prompters tellin' me we got more commercials.
We fade out/fade in again, to see the image of a young child, being pushed around by what is obviously a group of bullies. A voice over comes on, as the bullies push the young boy down, and we get a close up of his sad face.
Voice over:Are you a loser?
Another image comes on the screen, of a skinny, blonde man in thick glasses, and a plaid bowtie. He goes to kiss an attractive girl, only to have her walk away. The young man falls, and lands, face first, in a puddle of mud.
Voice over:Do you strike out with the ladies?
A third image comes on of a twelve year old with a mohawk, and an Iron Maiden shirt, headbanging in his room. His old, suit wearing dad walks in, and unplugs the stereo, only to get a glare form his rebellious son.
Voice over:Do your parents just not understand? Well... you know what you need? The new Homegrown Players t-shirt!!!
The boy from the first clip comes back on the screen, only this time he is wearing a Homegrown Players t-shirt, and he is beating up the bullies one by one.
Voice over:Stand up for yourself!
The man from the second clip comes on the screen, this time he is wearing the HGP t-shirt with the bowtie, and making out with a bikini model.
Voice over:Turn some heads! And if your parents won't by it for you, threaten to give them a Chiropractic Bitch Slap!
We see the young metal head from earlier, wearing the HGP t-shirt, and beating his father with a steel folding chair.
Voice Over:the new Homegrown Players t-shirt, available at WCFshop.com. GET IT! WEAR IT! NEVER TAKE IT OFF!
We fade back in to the studio, where Waylon has a smile plastered across his face.
Waylon:I love that.
Orbit:Did you put that together?
Waylon:Roxxy did that.
Orbit:Very nice. Let's move on to a subject that's makin' some waves right now, a ballot referendum asking citizens whether or not rape jokes should be considered funny.
Cash begins frantically searching through his notes, throwing papers everywhere.
Waylon:That ain't a real thing, is it?
Orbit:Naw, but we keep talkin' about colors and numbers, ain't nobody gonna be watchin' at the end of this. So, Waylon. What's your take. Can rape jokes be funny?
Waylon:Well, I heard Hunter Valentyne's birth was a rape jo-
Orbit:For real man?! You gonna get on me about using OUR word, and you can just be sayin' shit like that? That's messed up, homie.
Waylon lets out a sigh, and pinches the bridge of his nose, fighting back a headache.
Waylon:You're right. I'm sorry for my comments. Victims of rape don't deserve the added pain of gettin' compared to Hunter Valentyne like that. That was wrong of me.
Steve tries to scold him again, but just ends up laughing.
Orbit:Aight, what's the map lookin' like.
Waylon:We're about halfway across the country now. If Romney loses Ohio, it's over. God damn this is a boring election. The lead up was great, but tonight has been kinda lame. I wish it was 2008 again. As long as we got some time to fill, what are you predictions, Stevie?
Orbit:I think whoever wins this race, congress'll still be full of assholes, Hunter and Apathy will still be on their way to a loss, and the Homegrown Players will still be the most entertaining thing in WCF. End of story. Can I start drinkin' yet?
Without waiting for an answer, Orbit pulls a bottle of brown liquid from under the desk, along with two glasses. He fills one, and then looks to Waylon, and mimes filling the second glass. Waylon nods, and Orbit pours him a drink as well. They clink glasses, before taking a sip.
Waylon:That's better. I think we got another commercial. We'll be right back.
An image of Vice President Joe Biden flickers onto the screen.
Voice over:What does Joe Biden have to say about Paul Ryan?
Joe Biden(clip) :Malarkey!
Voice over:That's right, Joe Biden uses words like Malarkey.
Joe Biden(clip) :This is a bunch of stuff!
Voice over:Joe Biden talks like a senile old grandpa.
Joe Biden(clip) :Malarkey!
Voice over:Do you really want a Vice President who talks like he was born in 1880?
A picture of Paul Ryan, dressed in workout clothes, and lifting weights pops on screen.
Voice over:Paul Ryan gets you. Paul Ryan is young. Paul Ryan listens to Rage against the Machine. Vote for Paul Ryan.
Words appear at the bottom of the screen, letting the viewer know that this ad was paid for by the “Paul Ryan is Not a Douchebag” PAC.
Joe Biden(clip) :Malarkey!
We bring it back to Waylon and Orbit in the studio. They have both finished their drinks, and are in the process of pouring two more. They look back to the camera in shock.
Waylon:Shit! Welcome back. During the break Ohio went for Obama, so this one is basically over.
Orbit:Anti-climactic as hell, man.
Waylon:No recount? No screaming matches? No waiting for Florida to make up its fuckin' mind? This might be the most boring election night since Clinton/Dole! Ah well, I guess they can't all be nail biters.
Orbit: I guess that's it for the Homegrown Players. I'm The Mack, Steve Orbit. This is Waylon Cash. G'nite y'all!
Some poor quality, public domain music begins to play, as the image fades out. Once they are done, the bright lights behind the camera shut off, dimming the desk. Both men lean back, and take a sip of their respective drinks.
Waylon:We did good tonight.
Orbit:Fo sho. Homegrown Players blowin' UP!
Waylon:Hey, I was gonna us the cameras to shoot myself a promo, as long as we're done early. You wanna stick around and be my hype man?
Orbit stares at his partner for a minute, before a grin slowly creeps across his face.
____ _ _ ______ _______
We open on Waylon Cash sitting behind a reporter's desk, in a poorly lit studio. The minimal lighting casts eerie shadows across the room behind him, Waylon stares straight into the camera, saying nothing for a moment.
Waylon:Hey there, Hunter. I'm gonna make this quick.
Suddenly, Steve Orbit's head pops in from off camera.
Orbit:This segment gonna be short, like yo diiiiiiiiiiiick!
Orbit pops back out, leaving Waylon alone in the shot again.
Waylon:I talk a lot about respect. There's a lot of guys in this company that I both hate, and respect. You ain't one of them.
Orbit pops back in.
Orbit:Cuz you a little bitch! WHAT?!
Waylon: I honestly can't figure out why your ass still has a job. You run around, talkin' like you're king shit, and ain't nobody payin' attention. I'll tell ya why that is: all you are is talk. You run your mouth all week, then get your ass whooped. It happens all the time, and it's damn sure gonna happen on Sunday.
Orbit:You ain't go NO chance! It's gonna be like Mayweather fightin' one of my hoes!
Waylon:And it don't matter that your girl can carry you every once in a while. She's just gonna have to get her ass beat too. Orbit and me gonna be happy to rip you guys apart. What you mother fuckers don;t know yet, is that Orbit and I are the best tag team this place has ever seen.
Orbit:We the greatest! THE GREATEST!!
Waylon:And what that means is that no one in Pantheom can stop us, no one in the church can stop us, Joe and Tek can't stop us, and you two jaw flappin' piles of mediocre damn sure ain't gonna stop us.
Orbit:It ain't even gonna be close, man! Y'all may as well not even show up! Chuch!
Waylon:What we're gonna do at Slam is embarrass you both so bad, you ain;t ever gonna find another job in this business. Then, Hunter can go work at Target, where he belongs, and if Apathy asks real nice, I'll bet Steve'd be willin' to give her a job.
Orbit:Oh for sure, girl. Call me, we'll hook that up. Make that MONEY money. You know what I'm sayin'?
Waylon:We can trash talk all day, the point is that Sunday ain't about you. Sunday is about the Homegrown Players showin' the world that we're the team to beat, we're the team you fear, and we're the team everybody's gonna be talkin' about on Monday mornin'. You guys should just count yourselves lucky that you're gonna get to be there. You might actually get your face on some highlight footage this way.
Orbit:Someone might remember y'all names! I doubt it, but anything's possible.
Waylon:Bottom line: you two shouldn't get it in you overrated little heads that you got a shot on Sunday. You two winnin' is about as likely as my ass not stoppin' by Colorado on the way home. That's all we got to say.
Orbit:Homegrown Players, OUT!
The individual voices of people quickly making their way through the busy Milwaukee sidewalk all mash together, making one constant buzz that drifts up through the skyscrapers that surround. On a cold, blue bench sits Waylon Cash, bottle of beer in one hand, cigarette in the other. His lanky frame is protected from the mid-autumn cold by a brown, leather bomber jacket. He runs his hand over his exposed scalp, and silently laments the act of giving his hat to a fan after the show. The wrestler's head turns quickly, as a leggy young brunette in an ill-advised mini skirt strolls past. Across his face creeps the only smile he's felt since being beaten by NvL earlier in the night. As quickly as it appeared, the smile fades, ans the Hellbilly takes a sip from his half empty bottle.
He had tried to get some sleep, but moments from his losing effort kept playing in his head, like a highlight reel of failure. Eventually, his subconscious forced him to get up, and leave Roxxy to sleep alone in the hotel room. Now, as a cold breeze nips at his neck, he finds his mind drifting to the match again. He beats himself up internally, as the sound of the ref's hand coming down for three, echoes in his mind. Suddenly, a familiar voice rips him from his trance.
Orbit:I know that ain't the Hellbilly sittin' all by himself.
Waylon turns his head, to find Steve Orbit bouncing down the street toward him.
Waylon:Well, if it ain't the Mack.
Cash takes a drag from his cigarette, as Orbit takes the seat next to him. They sit in silence for a couple of minutes, before Waylon speaks.
Waylon:Ain't we a couple of sorry mother fuckers.
Orbit:Hey man, ain't no shame in losin' to NvL.
Waylon:Atreyu either! I told you he was good. You fought a helluva fight though. You oughta be proud.
The silence overcomes them again, as they both just watch people walk by.
Orbit:You know what we gotta do? We gotta do somethin' crazy. We gotta do somethin' that'll make everybody forget about slam, you know what I'm sayin'?
Waylon stares down at the ground, as he takes another drag from his burning cigarette. Suddenly, he springs to life.
Waylon:I got it! We cover the election.
He looks to Steve for an outpouring on enthusiasm, but instead gets a blank stare for his troubles.
Orbit:Who the hell would wanna watch us talk about politicians and shit?
Waylon:Think about it, everyone's gonna be watchin' it anyway. You can't tell me there ain't WCF fans out there who would wanna watch it with their favorite tag team. This is gonna be awesome, I'm tellin' ya.
Orbit thinks about it for a bit, as his eyes catch a young woman in a painted on pair of jeans, walking past.
Orbit:I honestly ain't the kinda guy who pays attention to politics. Pimps don't pay taxes, so it don't make no difference to me, ya know?
Waylon:It don't matter, man! All we do is sit on screen, be awesome for a few hours, and tell people who wins the election. We'll sell a shit ton of Homegrown Players t-shirts, and let the people know they should be payin' attention when we're on the screen.
Steve takes a few minutes to ponder, before rolling his eyes.
Orbit:Aight, but your ass better know what you're talkin' about. I don't need you makin' me look like a dick.
Waylon:Just leave it to me. You don't gotta worry about nothin'. Just make sure you're in Macon on Tuesday.
____ _ _ __ _____ _____
Tuesday, November 6
A plain, block letter graphic flashes on the screen, reading: “Homegrown Players Election Coverage 2012” As the letters fade out, we can see Waylon cash sitting behind what looks to be the desk of a low budget cable access studio. Sitting next to him is his partner, Steve Orbit. Waylon is dressed in a suit jacket that shits on top of a white tank top, and Orbit is clad in a long, purple suit.
Waylon:Hi there WCF fans! If you're watchin' us, it means you got tired of them talkin' heads over on the other channels, and decided to check out the best election team ever! As most of you probably figured by now, I'm Waylon Cash, and this is my boy, Steve Orbit. Say hi to the people.
Orbit:What's up guys. Tonight's gonna be a good night. We gonna watch some states turn red, we gonna watch some states turn blue, and at the end, about half the country is gonna be ready to jump off a cliff.
Waylon:That's a safe bet. Now, from what I understand, you done some research. Why don't you tell the people what you learned.
Orbit:Well, from what I understand, and old white mother fucker, who wants to sell America off to his oil baron homies, is runnin' against the anti-christ, who promises to make abortions mandatory. Also, there's a lotta mother fuckers talkin' about rape when they shouldn't be. Other than that, it's like these bitches be talkin' greek. You know what I'm sayin'?
Waylon:I do, but I ain't sure the fans do. Anyway, this is the point where ain't nothin' been decided yet, so we gotta fill time. Earlier today, I did some filming from a local pollin' place, hopin' to get some shots of democracy in action. Let's roll that now.
Orbit:Wait, you taped shit earlier? I didn't know we could do that. Now I look like I ain't prepared.
The shot of the two men fades out, and is replaced by the image coming from a camera, that follows Waylon across a parking lot. In the background is a church, with white signs hanging on many of the doors. The camera shakes, and wobbles, as the camera man tries desperately to keep up with Waylon, who is speaking into a microphone.
Waylon:Thanks Waylon. We're here at one of the many polling places in Macon. This one happens to be at a Lutheran church, let's see if we can't get in and get some footage of Americans doin' what American's do.
They don't get too much closer to the entrance, before a poll worker dressed in a gray suit runs out toward them. He holds out one of his large hands to impede Waylon's progress.
Worker:I'm sorry. I can't let you in there.
Waylon:Why not?
Worker:This polling place works very hard to keep partisan messages outside. I'm a big fan of yours, but I know you, and you're not exactly without bias. I just can't let you in there unless you're registered to vote here.
Waylon:Look man, I'm doin' a thing, all I want is a little b-roll of people votin' Let me get in, I'll get that, and I'll get out. I swear.
The man rubs his chin, and stares at the ground for a few moments, before looking back up.
Worker:Fine. You get ten minutes. Make it quick, and stay quiet.
Waylon thanks the man, before heading through the doors. The image then fades out, and the words “Two minutes later” flash across the bottom of the screen. When the camera fades back in, we see an image of Waylon Cash being dragged out of the church by three large men.
Waylon:FOUR MORE YEARS! FOUR MORE YEARS! LEGALIZE IT! Let go of me, ya buncha fascists!
We cut back to the studio, where Waylon is calmly reviewing his notes, and Orbit is starring at him with a mixture of confusion, and horror.
Orbit:Um... I noticed you didn't get any footage inside.
Waylon:Not really the point.
Orbit:Then what-
Waylon:It's a bit, let's move on.
Orbit:Aight. We got any updates?
Waylon:Uh... yeah! New Hampshire went blue, Tennessee goes red. Sorry if I don't seem shocked. Right now we gotta kick it to the commercials, and make some money.
Orbit:You got sponsors for this?
Waylon:I was as surprised as you are.
We cut to the image of an older man, with dark brown hair. He is dressed in a black and red suit. He stares into the camera, and begins speaking in a low monotone.
Mourdock:Hello. My name is Richard Mourdock, and I am seeking election to one of Indiana's senate seats. I'm here today to discuss some comments I've made, that have garnered some amount of media attention.
A sound clip of his voice plays over the image.
Mourdock(Voice over) :Even when life begins in that horrible situation of rape, that it is something that God intended to happen.
The voice over fades out, and the current Richard Mourdock begins to speak again.
Mourdock:Now, I would never suggest that a woman be forced to give birth to the baby of her rapist. No human being with a soul would think a barbaric law such as that was anything other than disgusting, and unethical. Although, some of these chicks have it coming, am I right guys? Have you seen some of the thigns these women are wearing? These short-
A voice over quickly comes on, blocking out the rest of Mourdock's tirade.
Voice Over:Paid for by the “Republicans Will Vote for Him Anyway” political action fund.
We cut back to the studio, where Waylon and Orbit are both starring, wide eyed, into the camera.
Waylon:Big Hunter Valentyne fan I see.
Orbit:Ain't that some...
Waylon:What a tool.
Orbit:Cosign.
Waylon quickly shuffles through some of the papers in front of him, before looking back up to the camera.
Waylon:Looks like it's time for an editorial, by our own Steve Orbit. Steve?
We cut to a single shot of Steve Orbit, who is leaning back in his chair, with a smirk on his face.
Orbit:Aight, listen up Republicans. You been usin' a lot of phrases, when talkin' about Obama, that raise some red flags with me, dig? You guys say things like “food stamp president” and “Un-American”. You say he's from Kenya, and call him lazy. Why don't y'all motha fuckas just say what y'all mean? Grow a set of balls, and call him a nig-
Waylon:Whoa! Steve! You can't say that on here. There might be kid's watchin', man!
Orbit:But, I'm black.
Waylon:In this case, doesn't make it ok.
Orbit:Just a lotta double talk for jungle bunny, is all I'm sayin'. If you're gonna be a racist, BE a racist. Ya feel me?
Waylon:I feel you, but I guess we have sponsors now, so we gotta be careful.
Orbit:Aight, why don't we check the map again. Let my ass cool down.
Waylon:We still ain't got to any of the fun states. Massachusets, Vermont, blue. Alabama, and my home state of Georgia, red. Assholes. So no real news, but there is somethin' I wanna talk about. There's a lotta states out there votin' on marijuana laws this year.
Orbit:Mother fucker, you promised.
Waylon: I just wanna make a last minute plea to anyone in those states. Cannabis is a plant that has a million uses. Medicine, fabric, fuel, plastics, just a good old fashioned good time. You can tax it, it'll make millions for your state...
Orbit:Aight Waylon-
Cash stands up, and begins delivering a speech he's had memorized since freshman year, when he delivered it in his speech class.
Waylon:Thomas Jefferson said-
Orbit:No! We ain't doin' this! These people don't wanna hear you talk for three hours about marijuana laws! Damn!
Waylon:I ain't the hero they want, I'm the hero they deserve
Orbit:Sit down, and knock it off! The prompters tellin' me we got more commercials.
We fade out/fade in again, to see the image of a young child, being pushed around by what is obviously a group of bullies. A voice over comes on, as the bullies push the young boy down, and we get a close up of his sad face.
Voice over:Are you a loser?
Another image comes on the screen, of a skinny, blonde man in thick glasses, and a plaid bowtie. He goes to kiss an attractive girl, only to have her walk away. The young man falls, and lands, face first, in a puddle of mud.
Voice over:Do you strike out with the ladies?
A third image comes on of a twelve year old with a mohawk, and an Iron Maiden shirt, headbanging in his room. His old, suit wearing dad walks in, and unplugs the stereo, only to get a glare form his rebellious son.
Voice over:Do your parents just not understand? Well... you know what you need? The new Homegrown Players t-shirt!!!
The boy from the first clip comes back on the screen, only this time he is wearing a Homegrown Players t-shirt, and he is beating up the bullies one by one.
Voice over:Stand up for yourself!
The man from the second clip comes on the screen, this time he is wearing the HGP t-shirt with the bowtie, and making out with a bikini model.
Voice over:Turn some heads! And if your parents won't by it for you, threaten to give them a Chiropractic Bitch Slap!
We see the young metal head from earlier, wearing the HGP t-shirt, and beating his father with a steel folding chair.
Voice Over:the new Homegrown Players t-shirt, available at WCFshop.com. GET IT! WEAR IT! NEVER TAKE IT OFF!
We fade back in to the studio, where Waylon has a smile plastered across his face.
Waylon:I love that.
Orbit:Did you put that together?
Waylon:Roxxy did that.
Orbit:Very nice. Let's move on to a subject that's makin' some waves right now, a ballot referendum asking citizens whether or not rape jokes should be considered funny.
Cash begins frantically searching through his notes, throwing papers everywhere.
Waylon:That ain't a real thing, is it?
Orbit:Naw, but we keep talkin' about colors and numbers, ain't nobody gonna be watchin' at the end of this. So, Waylon. What's your take. Can rape jokes be funny?
Waylon:Well, I heard Hunter Valentyne's birth was a rape jo-
Orbit:For real man?! You gonna get on me about using OUR word, and you can just be sayin' shit like that? That's messed up, homie.
Waylon lets out a sigh, and pinches the bridge of his nose, fighting back a headache.
Waylon:You're right. I'm sorry for my comments. Victims of rape don't deserve the added pain of gettin' compared to Hunter Valentyne like that. That was wrong of me.
Steve tries to scold him again, but just ends up laughing.
Orbit:Aight, what's the map lookin' like.
Waylon:We're about halfway across the country now. If Romney loses Ohio, it's over. God damn this is a boring election. The lead up was great, but tonight has been kinda lame. I wish it was 2008 again. As long as we got some time to fill, what are you predictions, Stevie?
Orbit:I think whoever wins this race, congress'll still be full of assholes, Hunter and Apathy will still be on their way to a loss, and the Homegrown Players will still be the most entertaining thing in WCF. End of story. Can I start drinkin' yet?
Without waiting for an answer, Orbit pulls a bottle of brown liquid from under the desk, along with two glasses. He fills one, and then looks to Waylon, and mimes filling the second glass. Waylon nods, and Orbit pours him a drink as well. They clink glasses, before taking a sip.
Waylon:That's better. I think we got another commercial. We'll be right back.
An image of Vice President Joe Biden flickers onto the screen.
Voice over:What does Joe Biden have to say about Paul Ryan?
Joe Biden(clip) :Malarkey!
Voice over:That's right, Joe Biden uses words like Malarkey.
Joe Biden(clip) :This is a bunch of stuff!
Voice over:Joe Biden talks like a senile old grandpa.
Joe Biden(clip) :Malarkey!
Voice over:Do you really want a Vice President who talks like he was born in 1880?
A picture of Paul Ryan, dressed in workout clothes, and lifting weights pops on screen.
Voice over:Paul Ryan gets you. Paul Ryan is young. Paul Ryan listens to Rage against the Machine. Vote for Paul Ryan.
Words appear at the bottom of the screen, letting the viewer know that this ad was paid for by the “Paul Ryan is Not a Douchebag” PAC.
Joe Biden(clip) :Malarkey!
We bring it back to Waylon and Orbit in the studio. They have both finished their drinks, and are in the process of pouring two more. They look back to the camera in shock.
Waylon:Shit! Welcome back. During the break Ohio went for Obama, so this one is basically over.
Orbit:Anti-climactic as hell, man.
Waylon:No recount? No screaming matches? No waiting for Florida to make up its fuckin' mind? This might be the most boring election night since Clinton/Dole! Ah well, I guess they can't all be nail biters.
Orbit: I guess that's it for the Homegrown Players. I'm The Mack, Steve Orbit. This is Waylon Cash. G'nite y'all!
Some poor quality, public domain music begins to play, as the image fades out. Once they are done, the bright lights behind the camera shut off, dimming the desk. Both men lean back, and take a sip of their respective drinks.
Waylon:We did good tonight.
Orbit:Fo sho. Homegrown Players blowin' UP!
Waylon:Hey, I was gonna us the cameras to shoot myself a promo, as long as we're done early. You wanna stick around and be my hype man?
Orbit stares at his partner for a minute, before a grin slowly creeps across his face.
____ _ _ ______ _______
We open on Waylon Cash sitting behind a reporter's desk, in a poorly lit studio. The minimal lighting casts eerie shadows across the room behind him, Waylon stares straight into the camera, saying nothing for a moment.
Waylon:Hey there, Hunter. I'm gonna make this quick.
Suddenly, Steve Orbit's head pops in from off camera.
Orbit:This segment gonna be short, like yo diiiiiiiiiiiick!
Orbit pops back out, leaving Waylon alone in the shot again.
Waylon:I talk a lot about respect. There's a lot of guys in this company that I both hate, and respect. You ain't one of them.
Orbit pops back in.
Orbit:Cuz you a little bitch! WHAT?!
Waylon: I honestly can't figure out why your ass still has a job. You run around, talkin' like you're king shit, and ain't nobody payin' attention. I'll tell ya why that is: all you are is talk. You run your mouth all week, then get your ass whooped. It happens all the time, and it's damn sure gonna happen on Sunday.
Orbit:You ain't go NO chance! It's gonna be like Mayweather fightin' one of my hoes!
Waylon:And it don't matter that your girl can carry you every once in a while. She's just gonna have to get her ass beat too. Orbit and me gonna be happy to rip you guys apart. What you mother fuckers don;t know yet, is that Orbit and I are the best tag team this place has ever seen.
Orbit:We the greatest! THE GREATEST!!
Waylon:And what that means is that no one in Pantheom can stop us, no one in the church can stop us, Joe and Tek can't stop us, and you two jaw flappin' piles of mediocre damn sure ain't gonna stop us.
Orbit:It ain't even gonna be close, man! Y'all may as well not even show up! Chuch!
Waylon:What we're gonna do at Slam is embarrass you both so bad, you ain;t ever gonna find another job in this business. Then, Hunter can go work at Target, where he belongs, and if Apathy asks real nice, I'll bet Steve'd be willin' to give her a job.
Orbit:Oh for sure, girl. Call me, we'll hook that up. Make that MONEY money. You know what I'm sayin'?
Waylon:We can trash talk all day, the point is that Sunday ain't about you. Sunday is about the Homegrown Players showin' the world that we're the team to beat, we're the team you fear, and we're the team everybody's gonna be talkin' about on Monday mornin'. You guys should just count yourselves lucky that you're gonna get to be there. You might actually get your face on some highlight footage this way.
Orbit:Someone might remember y'all names! I doubt it, but anything's possible.
Waylon:Bottom line: you two shouldn't get it in you overrated little heads that you got a shot on Sunday. You two winnin' is about as likely as my ass not stoppin' by Colorado on the way home. That's all we got to say.
Orbit:Homegrown Players, OUT!