Post by DVS on Jan 30, 2015 3:51:47 GMT -5
|The Songs of Jest [Pt. 7] | Payback Roleplay No. 7 |
| Continued from The Songs of Jest Series [Pt. 1] - [Pt. 2] – [Pt. 3] – [Pt. 4] - [Pt. 5] | [Pt. 6] |
| Continued from The Songs of Jest Series [Pt. 1] - [Pt. 2] – [Pt. 3] – [Pt. 4] - [Pt. 5] | [Pt. 6] |
Weapon No. 6: Barbed Wire
Wrap this shit around anything and things are bound and determined to get messy. The Deviant loves barbed wire. He'll use it at the drop of a dime. Anything that can be used as a weapon AND a shield is of pure value to him. Wrap it around the ring posts, use it as the ropes, wrap up your knuckles in the shit, use it on everything. He does. He fuckin' loves it, and he'll waste no time carving up some skin with it.
Barbed Wire is a pretty intense invention simply created to contain livestock, and it's still used as a boundary for farms at this very moment. It's been modified over the years, and it's use has obviously been raped, but it's made intensive husbandry practical on a much larger scale. So, let's talk about why the Deviant likes it so much.
Aside from the minor fetish he has for it – it's extremely useful in so many ways. There's already been a few descriptions of its use, but it's reliability is fantastic. The pain one suffers from a barbed wire attack will never be erased. It'll be chiseled into the skin like hieroglyphics. It'll tell the story of their suffering at the hands of the Deviant. It'll tell the tale of the persons integrity being punished by an unmerciful web of barbed wire. It rebuilds a human being. There are consequences for crossing the line when it's covered in barbed wire. Unfortunately – you'll just have to live with it. If you live.
So, let's say that the Deviant gets an opportunity to use barbed wire – what happens? Simple logic. That's best answered with saying: victory. Victory because he's already used his brain, heart, every limb imaginable, the steel chair, brass fuckin' knuckles, and now a slew of barbed wire that leaves much to the violent imagination. Victory, because – even if the barbed wire doesn't stop the opposition – the next in the arsenal most certainly will...
The Adventures of the Super Deviant
“Oh yeah...”
The Super Deviant watches David ignite a set of tires hung by chains. The wheels catch fire, and Dan watches his agent step back and jog away from the scene. The Deviant hops back and forth and stares into the line of swinging tires as they crackle with flames. David looks over at Dr. Perciful Lee sitting in the bleachers.
We're in the Deviant's Dungeon. The conditioning gymnasium addition to the Agent's Oregon Castle. David's investment in his client. Whatever the Deviant wants – David gets. It's simple.
“I suppose I better get this shit done,” The Super Deviant says as he glances at David. The Agent shrugs his shoulders and the Deviant smirks. “Yeah, that's what I thought,” and then the Super Deviant takes aim at the flaming tires.
He sprints forward and leaps through the first tire to tuck and roll on the floor. He leaps to his feet and dodges an oncoming tire to his right, lunges forward and then leaps through another tire. His landing is botched, but he composes himself. Another tire threatens from his left, but he falls to the floor and then quickly pushes up to his feet. The final tire swings before him, but he walks away.
“What's up, Dan?” David curiously asks. “You could have finished that. You made it look easy!” The agent grabs the fire extinguisher and quickly jogs toward his client. He immediately takes aim at the first tire and ceases the fire in a plume of white powder. “What do you want to do next? Do you wanna run the plum blossom's again? Spar Lester? Punch down into a bucket of broken glass bottles?” David extinguishes the second, and then the rest simultaneously.
“I don't think it really matters anymore,” The Super Deviant says as he walks over toward the bleachers where Percy sits. “I think I've done all that I can, and the proven ground will be harvested come Payback. I don't need to leap through flaming tires; what the fuck does that have to prove? I already know for a fact that I'm knee-deep in becoming the next greatest wrestler the WCF has ever laid their sucky little eyes on,” and Dan leaps up onto the first bleacher stand; then the second, until he's standing just a few inches from where Perciful Lee sits. “I'm not your little sideshow freak, mother fucker,” Dan says as he bends down to get into Percy's face. “Stop comin' to my training sessions.”
“Ok,” Perciful says without an argument. He stands.
“Dude, I'm kidding,” The Deviant states as he leaps forward and grabs his career counselor. “I'm just Joshin' ya. Played you for a fool though,” he says as he lightly punches the doctor in the shoulder. “Listen, Doc, I need to get something off my chest,” the Deviant says as he places his hand on his chest and looks saddened.
“Ok, Dan, go for it,” the Doctor states.
“I think I've beat myself into a state of mental retardation, and it's not even Payback yet,” the Deviant states as he looks concerned at his counselor. “I don't know if it's going to be safe putting me in that ring on Sunday,” he continues.
“Dude...” David shouts from across the gymnasium, “...you're not mentally retarded...” he shouts once more.
“It's more of a fuckin' RAIN MAN thing, David,” the Super Deviant shouts as he turns to look very angry at his agent, “so SHUT THE FUCK UP and let me continue this little convo with the Doc, OK?” He turns to the Doctor, “so, you were sayin'?” He looks at the befuddled counselor.
“Well,” Percy responds before a gulp, “I guess you could say that what you've done to yourself could push the limits into a state of dementia for any man,” and he looks at David. The Agent shrugs his shoulders and the Doctor doesn't seem satisfied. He looks at Dan. “Look, everybody knows that you'll do whatever it takes to win. Dan, you're already very messed up. That's really saying it lightly. You're...deducing yourself to an entirely different level of existence. How you're capable of keeping up with this deterioration of self is beyond me. Do I believe you're mentally retarded? You don't seem like it, but if you'd like to feel that way – then have at it, brother,” he winks at David, and then puts his hand on the Super Deviant's shoulder. “Son, I've already told you you could be a super hero. If you want to be mentally retarded...why the fuck not?” He smiles and then begins to walk away. “I don't fuckin' care what you do,” he continues in his journey as his voice trails off, “just keep payin' me and I'll think you're fuckin' Jesus...”
The Super Deviant stands alone in the bleachers with a relieved smile on his face. He nods. His hands are on his hips. Had he been wearing his signature cape – it'd be blowing in a magnificent wind. Unfortunately – he's in an all black sweat suit. Plain Jane. He looks at his agent and his smile widens.
“Oh...my fuckin' GOD!” the Super Deviant shouts. “David...” and the Super Deviant starts to descand the bleachers. He holds his arms out as he walks toward his Agent. “...David,” he continues, “this little altercation has opened the doors for so much,” and as the Super Deviant gets closer – David takes one step back.
“Dan, whatever you're thinkin'...” and David takes another step back.
“Think about the possibilities, David,” the Deviant continues as his devious smile grows more and more sadistic by the second. “OK,” and Dan stops, “who farted?” He looks around the room, crinkles his nose, and looks absolutely disgusted. “I mean, really, that's gross; and it's real bad. What the Hell did you eat?” He looks at David to see if the Agent agrees.
Suddenly, David is an Asian Man wearing a Maelstrom t-shirt tucked into a pair of tighty-white underpants. The Asian Man wrinkles his pleasant face to force a smile, and it's a wonder if his eyelids are actually open because they've such a squint. The old Asian Man begins to chuckle in a high pitched, and scratchy heckle. He looks at the Super Deviant, whom at this point is motionless and mesmerized by this madness.
“He no eat anysink,” and the Man chuckles once more, “Sirry guy, no he no have eat anysink if he has...”and the Asian Man removes a can of Super Toryu Energy from his tighty-white underpants, “...SUUU-PAH TORYU ENNNERGEEE...” and the Asian Man continues to laugh it up.
“Wh...” The Super Deviant is at a loss for words. He looks aggrivated, and annoyed. He charges forward toward the Asian Man holding up a can of Super Toryu Energy. The Asian Man continues to laugh, and this time directed at the Deviants face.
Dan's not having it, and it only takes one slug from a Super Deviant right to knock a man unconscious for a few days. He does just that. The Asian Man takes five knuckles to the core of the face and he's down for the count. The Super Deviant, dressed in black, stands over the fallen Asian Man.
“It's difficult to explain,” the Super Deviant says as he continues to look down. “How exactly do I explain...” Dan continues. “It was the fart – the fart made me do it...” and then he looks to his right, and then his left, then back down.
Lying on the floor below the Super Deviant is David, his Agent. His face is beaten in. Profuse bleeding from the nose and mouth.
Transcript
Session #0261 | Client: The Super Deviant, Dan Van Slade | 023 | January 28, 2015
From the office of Dr. Perciful Lee
Session #0261 | Client: The Super Deviant, Dan Van Slade | 023 | January 28, 2015
From the office of Dr. Perciful Lee
Perciful Lee: “How do you feel?”
The Super Deviant: “Kinda like I'm the new WCF Hardcore Champion. How do you feel?”
Perciful Lee: “I feel fine. I feel...pleased. Satisfied. My day has gone well.”
The Super Deviant: “Do you base how you feel on the consequences of your daily routine?”
Perciful Lee: “I suppose one could look at it that way, sure. Don't you?”
The Super Deviant: “I can't, but if I could – I don't think I'd be...this.”
Perciful Lee: “Asking me how I feel is quite an open-ended question. I believe that's up for interpretation...”
The Super Deviant: “OK-OK, right. I get it. I suppose that's what I'm getting at, anyway. It is an open-ended question, and it's sometimes quite fun to see how people react to it. Everybody reacts differently. Every little nuance – it matters. It's the fine, very fine details. But, even without the very fine details – there are reactions. It's wild – if I asked a depressed kid how he felt, you better damn well believe I'd get a depressing response. How do you think a Southern Black Woman felt after the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr.? DING-DING-DING, that's right! Fuckin' anger, son. Straight - one hundred percent, flame-spittin', sluggin'-them-fists, pissed off like a mother fucker. New Yorkers after 9-11? Tears. Rage. Every Muslim this side of the Mississippi was searching for a hole to hide in. Feelings, man – let me tell you this – the only feeling I got is that warming butterfly effect inside my stomach; I keep thinking about the WCF Hardcore Championship. I keep thinking about winning. That moment, Percy. That very moment when I grab the mane and ride that fuckin' lion into battle. Pillage. Plunder. Oh, sweet-Mary-Moses-N-Joseph, this is exactly that moment directly before you take a hit of coke. The line, Christ-Almighty...that line...diced and laid out for your most happy consumption. Your heart races. Your nerves are on fire; you're so fuckin' excited you just don't know how to handle it. Smokin'-hot Moses! I'm the next God damned WCF Hardcore Champion and there's not a single fuckin' thing a person's gonna do about it.”
Perciful Lee: “So, Dan, tell us how you're feeling?”
The Super Deviant: “Real funny. You're not a fuckin' comedian, jerk, so stop the brew-ha-ha, and lets' get back to makin' me the next best thing...ever.”
Perciful Lee: “So, are you the comedian?”
The Super Deviant: “Percy – don't start fuckin' with me. You know how I get when you start fuckin' with me. We're talkin' real bad things, Percy. I just blow up. Not the greatest personality trait, but I cope, and I hope. I'm just ready to fuckin' rock some worlds, bud.”
Perciful Lee: “Tell us a bit about your training experiences. It's nice to know what it takes to condition someone like you toward the next level.”
The Super Deviant: “Oh, I'm already at my next level. The first task is simply to defeat Maelstrom and Steve Orbit, obtain the WCF Hardcore Championship, find a fuckin' Arabian Horse and ride that son of a bitch into the Miami sunset. Jesus Hamburglar Christ, Percy! I've gotta get an Arabian Horse...”
Perciful Lee: “You've guaranteed yourself the win?”
The Super Deviant: “It's my greatest work of art, by far.”
Perciful Lee: “Do you think this is an art form?”
The Super Deviant: “This is going to lead into another abstract debate, Percy. You do understand that, right?”
Perciful Lee: “I've come to conclude that with you – anything is possible.”
The Super Deviant: “Um, yes, and this is of course why I pay you.”
Perciful Lee: “How's your training?”
The Super Deviant: “Ah! Yes. Well, I'm jumping through a lot of hoops, really. The daily routine hasn't changed. Oh, and that stupid fuckin' idiot that you hired? Are you seriously paying this guy to get his ass kicked or am I just delusional? Well, I'm slightly delusional, but that's not the argument here. The fact of the matter is this – I train, and I train, and I break bricks over my face, and I light myself on fire, and I eat glass, and I fuck myself up – so I'm gonna be one callous mother fucker to beat. I'm gonna leave it at that. I've let one of these puppies slip away already, and I'm not gonna chance it this time. I want a 100% guaranteed win; and – HELLO! That's what we'll get.”
Perciful Lee: “We?”
The Super Deviant: “Yes, we.”
Perciful Lee: “Who's we?”
The Super Deviant: “Who's we? Who is we? What are you – fuckin' retarded or somethin'? Why do I have to tell a Doctor who we are?”
Perciful Lee: “No, I get it, and I got what I wanted.”
The Super Deviant: “Ah-yeah. Well, I hope that you're ready to see a good ole'fashion ass-kickin come Sunday. I'm on that righteous-tip, kinda feelin' like I'm ready to pound my fists into a few jaws, break a few ribs, snatch a few teeth, rip a few ears off, perhaps cripple a bitch. There's no turning back. Put me on that website, bro. In that box next to HARDCORE CHAMPION. Can you feel me?”
Perciful Lee: “Why have you all of a sudden taken to a different dialect?”
The Super Deviant: “It happens from time-to-time, it really does.”
Perciful Lee: “Oh, so you're aware of it?”
The Super Deviant: “Um, yes. That's one of my powers.”
Perciful Lee: “That's...remarkable.”
The Super Deviant: “Remarkable. Sounds about right, it really does. I've been said to be pretty remarkable. I understand that. I know where you're comin' from. Remarkable like the arsenal I've devised. Remarkable like my athleticism. Remarkable like my intelligence. I'm just a pretty fuckin' remarkable guy I suppose.”
Perciful Lee: “It goes without saying – you're definitely on the tongues of a lot of WCF wrestlers these days...”
The Super Deviant: “Oh...yeah. Now they're talkin'. Now they've got an idea. They hear me bitchin' in the distance and I've got them sweatin' because they see me comin' with a fuckin' vengeance. Real hard, Percy. I'm comin' like a freakin' juggernaut. A freakin' fuckin' Juggernaut, Percy. I got a lot of these fools breathin' down my back and preparin' for a reach'around; and that's something this Deviant does not roll with. I know they're talkin' about me. Now they are. It was only a matter of time before you all realized that this motherfucker isn't really somebody to mess with. But, that's not what they want to believe. They want to believe that I'm just some desperate mother fucker who has absolutely NOTHING left to lose. I won't go far into that dilemma, but I will say that they're terribly wrong. I love it that I'm a conversation piece. God, I love it so fuckin' much.”
Perciful Lee: “I'm thinking about interviewing some of the WCF personnel and asking them what they think of the Super Deviant.”
The Super Deviant: “Hmmm...”
Perciful Lee: “I think it'd be great P.R.”
The Super Deviant: “Well – it'd obviously not hurt anything. One – I could give a fat rat's asshole about their opinions; and two – I'm curious only because I'd like to know whose next on the list. I'd like to beat their ass into a wormhole and have them lost in a transient space-time-continuum. I love the idea!”
Perciful Lee: “I'll get right on that then.”
The Super Deviant: “I love it. The songs of jest. Those beautiful melodies out of life's little pleasures. The music in your head when everything is going just as you planned. If only life had background music. It's a beautiful thing, really. Music, that is. That's a concept that will never, ever, ever come to an end. There's a few, and they're all equally amusing. I'd like to consider myself a part of that class.”
[To Be Continued in The Songs of Jest Part Eight]