Hardcore Series: Do As Daddy Says
Dec 17, 2013 11:46:36 GMT -5
Oblivion, Speede, and 6 more like this
Post by Logan on Dec 17, 2013 11:46:36 GMT -5
Note: This televised promo was produced and written by Logan for the sole entertainment of WCF's fans. Hired actors portray different roles, the promo itself is mostly scripted, special effects along with cutting edge CGI are also on display, and no one is ever seriously hurt... or killed.
Logan: Could you fix me a sandwich?
Lilith: ...
Logan: Pretty please?
Lilith: Okay, sure.
Logan: And no shredding tiny bits of glass under the cheese this time. I didn't like that.
After the voice overs the cameras finally open to bring viewers the sight of Logan and Lilith within Logan's home. He is relaxed, sitting back on his very lovely couch, enjoying the sight of Lilith walking off into the kitchen in her cooking apron that is covered in cows blood. Earlier she promised to personally butcher one of the many cows Logan kept as pets behind his house. He had a very nice spread, obviously enough to raise livestock. He never did plan on actually eating any of them, but isn't that what cows are for? Despite that, Lilith talked him into it, even convincing him that'd it be a waste of gas driving to a burger joint when they had fresh ones right in front of them.
Logan: But I've named them... I've had Little Torture for years!
Lilith: You named a cow Little Torture?
Logan: Yes.
Armed to the teeth with an axe and apron and safety glasses, she seen no reason to get blinded, and safety always comes first - always. He thought back to it, Lilith returning covered head to toe in cow mess, holding a slain piece of a cows thigh and simply tossing it onto a frying pan that hardly held the slab of meat, hair, flesh, and all. She had been gone for over two hours.
Logan: That's all you got out of Little Torture, just a leg?
Lilith: He kept running!
Logan: Oh.
Lilith: And well... by the time I was finished this was the only thing left salvageable.
Logan: Poor Little Tort.
Lilith: Yes, rest his soul. Let's eat!
Logan: Maybe you should try cooking it first.
She quickly grumbled something offensive just before throwing the poorly butchered leg at Logan.
Lilith: YOU COOK IT.
Back to the present, ah yes, Logan relaxed upon his couch while Lilith was busy slaving away in the kitchen over a sandwich. She had terrible kitchen skills. Matter of fact, he couldn't remember the last time he ever knew of anyone taking over an hour to fix a sandwich. She was probably crushing up glass again and spreading it in with the mayo. Logan paid more attention to the camera this time, letting Lilith do her thing.
Logan: I was hoping to have a bite before doing this, but oh well, guess they'll have to wait ANOTHER HOUR.
From within the kitchen she shouted.
Lilith: SHUT UP!
Logan: Anywho. Let's take this opportunity to address a soft boudle bitch. Let me guess, you were thinking, oh... he must be talking about FPV. Hey! Good for you. You're smart. Damn right I'm talking about FPV.
Lilith: Get him Logan -
Logan: SHUT UP AND MAKE THE SANDWICH!
She stormed out with a knife in her grasp, glaring down Logan.
Logan: Hey whoa, easy boudlepants, I'm doing a promo right now. If I don't do this then FPV will not know how much I despise him.
She bit her lip, going back into the kitchen. Where she belonged, Logan thought.
Logan: I love how you play the victim here, FPV. You've explained it this way, that I betrayed you, and not the other way around. Did I give YOU a Connector during our tag match? Wait, I didn't? SHUT UP! Matter of fact, it was you who give me a Connector. My very own fuckin' move. You don't call that betrayal? I've been nothing but a good friend to you the last few years. Bringing back Team of Treachery wasn't my idea, it was yours if you hadn't forgotten. I never had no intentions of bringing that group back. To me it died with Jack of Blades. But despite that, despite my hesitation, you seemed so damn excited and I said what the hell. I did Team of Treachery for YOU, FPV. And I'll admit we had some fun there. We were pretty damn dominate up until things got out of control and we merged with The Darkside. Things went down hill very quickly after that and I left the group and left you in charge. However, we left on good terms, and DoT was washed away and erased afterwards. Throughout that next week we even teamed up from time to time, stayed in touch. I'm sure you know this, but they call me the Face of Treachery around here. I don't have too many friends because of that. That's my fault, of course. But you, FPV, I kept you in my small tight circle. I never had any thoughts of crossing you or turning my back on you. I watched you grow, encouraged you, taught you how to deal with those that we call boudles, and was honestly damn proud when you defeated Jonny Fly and won the belt.
Still without a sandwich, Logan turned his head towards the kitchen.
Logan: What's the eta on that sandwich?
Lilith: ... I'm still making it.
Logan: I know. You were making it an hour ago.
Lilith: DO YOU WANT A SANDWICH OR NOT?!
Logan: It'd be nice.
Lilith walked out of the kitchen carrying a paper plate with a 'sandwich'. She sat it down in front of Logan, grinning ear to ear and awaiting his approval. Logan looked down at the 'sandwich', which consisted of a pile of dog shit on a plate.
Logan: This doesn't look like a sandwich to me.
Lilith: Are you blind?
He swiped at his nose, the smell of the dog feces catching weft.
Lilith: I spent a lot of time preparing this!
Logan: Wait is this YOUR poop?
Lilith: Uh...
The home of Roy Speede. It was modest. He was a modest guy. Logan stood at the doorstep, jamming his finger into the door bell and never letting up until Roy finally answered the door. Roy Speede looked a little tired, his eyelids were puffy and darkened.
Logan: You look like you've been up for days.
Roy: What? Huh? No. Yes. I ordered an escort. Have you seen them?!
Logan pushed past Roy and stepped into the house all Fatherly like.
Logan: What's going on -
Catsy: You tell that whore I'm the first one. I don't do seconds.
The Great Catsy strutted out into the hallway, his chest puffed out, flexing his fury bot muscles.
Catsy: Oh... it's that guy. Hey, Logan, let me know when the fun arrives. Got me, good shit?
The Great Catsy pawed back into the other room, muttering under his robotic breath to another presence.
Catsy: Just that one asshole. Nope. No hookers.
Logan: Roy, what's going on?
Roy: Uh nothing. What would be going on at nine in the morning?!
Logan again pushed past Roy and went into the room Catsy had entered. Once inside, he noticed a giant pile of cocaine on the table, and behind that table stood the Great Catsy and Boudlebot with separate plastic guitars, playing Guitar Hero, with white powder smudged over their faces. Roy Speede fell in behind Logan and ran over to the two coked out robots.
Roy: You played Free Bird without me?!
Boudlebot: I couldn't wait. This white stuff makes me impatient.
Catsy: Now that you're here, do join us, good shit.
Roy: Are you mad at me, Daddy?
Logan paused, looking Roy in the eyes, and then resting a hand over his shoulder.
Logan: Son...
Roy Speede hung is head.
Logan: Were you doing cocaine with these robots?
Roy: That's the thing. I can't say yes or no.
Logan: Why not?
Roy: Because I can't remember.
Logan: I'll take that as a yes.
Roy: Are you mad at me?
Logan: Of course.
Roy: I'm sorry...
Logan: I'm mad you didn't invite me sooner!
Logan dives face first into the table of cocaine and snorts and snorts and fuckin' snorts until everything goes black. Logan awakes, madness has transpired since his last memory. He is laying in a bathtub with a dead hooker and a Sponge Bob Walkie Talkie ductaped to his cheek. He pushed his foot forward into the back of the corpses head rolling the dead hooker off his other leg, she was heavy and it was killing him. Very slowly, it all began to come back to him. Pieces of flashes and bits. The camera displays it all. This isn't a dream gawd damnit, this is televised film making.
Logan: THE SERPENT IS RIGHT ON MY ASS!
He shouted into the Sponge Bob talkie while an angry naked woman with a butcher knife trailed just inches behind him on the go. The other end of the talkie chirped in with Roy's voice.
Roy: You shouldn't have tried to play that guitar with her nipples!
Logan: She liked it at first!
Logan instinctively ducked and the knife swept just above his head.
Roy: Lead her to the hedge maze. Catsy and I have set a trap!
Logan: You have a hedge maze?
Roy: That I do!
Logan couldn't feel his body but he kept running, wondering if he had been stabbed or sliced or poked yet or not. Who knew. Now was not the time to stop and check for wounds or blood. The angry naked hooker with chaffed nipples swung the butcher knife once more, missing Logan's back by an inch. He made it to the hedge maze, where The Great Catsy popped out with a bandana wrapped over his forehead.
Catsy: Don't worry.
Logan leapt behind Catsy, and Catsy jumped into a karate stance.
Catsy: I've got this, good shit.
The Great Catsy fingered some cocaine off his upper lip and jammed it up his noise all the while watching the crazy naked hooker inch closer.
Catsy: HEEE'YAAWWW POW!
The Great Catsy did a complete back flip, Guile flash kicking the naked woman in the jaw. She fell backwards, the butcher knife breaking from her grasp and twirling into the air before falling back down and sinking into her forehead.
Logan: Holy shit.
Catsy: Holy shit is right. I don't play, good shit. I never have. This isn't new to me. Back in Iraq I did this on a daily basis, here, look at this picture... that's me standing beside -
While The Great Catsy rambled on, Logan looked at the camera, the noise of Catsy reducing, and Logan began to cut a promo laying there on his back with a dead hooker feet beside him.
Logan: What's to stop me, FPV? What's to stop me from sticking a knife in your face? It happened to her and I don't even know her. She's just a strange bun for my hotdog. You want anger, FPV? I got it right here.
Boudlebot: RIGHT HERE!
The Boudlebot jumped from the hedges and pelvic thrusted.
Logan: You can't stop me, FPV. You will not stop me. If it wasn't for me you probably wouldn't have even gotten a match for One, you soft jobber punk ass boudle bitch. I'll give you what you want. I'll throw the tickets in your face, you'll go to Connector City, you'll become another resident. A short time ago I never would have thought about it, but you earned my attention, and now you have it. Goodbye, FPV.
Catsy: Why goodbye, good shit?
Logan: Because after One that's it for FPV. He'll never again get this spot light. He lost himself. He attacked me because he's fighting to stay on peoples minds. He attacked me because he wants people to think he might actually be somebody. FPV, you're nothing. People like you attack people like me for attention. You know why? Because you're hitting the end of the road and you know it. You thought doing this, lighting a fire with the biggest name in WCF history would set you back on track. Let me tell you this, yes, you got your big One match... but after that, it's over. There is NO WAY you're walking out with MY belt.
Boudlebot: Are you done?
Logan: Yes.
Catsy: I never did get a chance to fuck her, good shit.
Logan: Well... she's dead now.
Catsy: Your point?
THE LILITH SANDWICH
Logan: Could you fix me a sandwich?
Lilith: ...
Logan: Pretty please?
Lilith: Okay, sure.
Logan: And no shredding tiny bits of glass under the cheese this time. I didn't like that.
After the voice overs the cameras finally open to bring viewers the sight of Logan and Lilith within Logan's home. He is relaxed, sitting back on his very lovely couch, enjoying the sight of Lilith walking off into the kitchen in her cooking apron that is covered in cows blood. Earlier she promised to personally butcher one of the many cows Logan kept as pets behind his house. He had a very nice spread, obviously enough to raise livestock. He never did plan on actually eating any of them, but isn't that what cows are for? Despite that, Lilith talked him into it, even convincing him that'd it be a waste of gas driving to a burger joint when they had fresh ones right in front of them.
Logan: But I've named them... I've had Little Torture for years!
Lilith: You named a cow Little Torture?
Logan: Yes.
Armed to the teeth with an axe and apron and safety glasses, she seen no reason to get blinded, and safety always comes first - always. He thought back to it, Lilith returning covered head to toe in cow mess, holding a slain piece of a cows thigh and simply tossing it onto a frying pan that hardly held the slab of meat, hair, flesh, and all. She had been gone for over two hours.
Logan: That's all you got out of Little Torture, just a leg?
Lilith: He kept running!
Logan: Oh.
Lilith: And well... by the time I was finished this was the only thing left salvageable.
Logan: Poor Little Tort.
Lilith: Yes, rest his soul. Let's eat!
Logan: Maybe you should try cooking it first.
She quickly grumbled something offensive just before throwing the poorly butchered leg at Logan.
Lilith: YOU COOK IT.
Back to the present, ah yes, Logan relaxed upon his couch while Lilith was busy slaving away in the kitchen over a sandwich. She had terrible kitchen skills. Matter of fact, he couldn't remember the last time he ever knew of anyone taking over an hour to fix a sandwich. She was probably crushing up glass again and spreading it in with the mayo. Logan paid more attention to the camera this time, letting Lilith do her thing.
Logan: I was hoping to have a bite before doing this, but oh well, guess they'll have to wait ANOTHER HOUR.
From within the kitchen she shouted.
Lilith: SHUT UP!
Logan: Anywho. Let's take this opportunity to address a soft boudle bitch. Let me guess, you were thinking, oh... he must be talking about FPV. Hey! Good for you. You're smart. Damn right I'm talking about FPV.
Lilith: Get him Logan -
Logan: SHUT UP AND MAKE THE SANDWICH!
She stormed out with a knife in her grasp, glaring down Logan.
Logan: Hey whoa, easy boudlepants, I'm doing a promo right now. If I don't do this then FPV will not know how much I despise him.
She bit her lip, going back into the kitchen. Where she belonged, Logan thought.
Logan: I love how you play the victim here, FPV. You've explained it this way, that I betrayed you, and not the other way around. Did I give YOU a Connector during our tag match? Wait, I didn't? SHUT UP! Matter of fact, it was you who give me a Connector. My very own fuckin' move. You don't call that betrayal? I've been nothing but a good friend to you the last few years. Bringing back Team of Treachery wasn't my idea, it was yours if you hadn't forgotten. I never had no intentions of bringing that group back. To me it died with Jack of Blades. But despite that, despite my hesitation, you seemed so damn excited and I said what the hell. I did Team of Treachery for YOU, FPV. And I'll admit we had some fun there. We were pretty damn dominate up until things got out of control and we merged with The Darkside. Things went down hill very quickly after that and I left the group and left you in charge. However, we left on good terms, and DoT was washed away and erased afterwards. Throughout that next week we even teamed up from time to time, stayed in touch. I'm sure you know this, but they call me the Face of Treachery around here. I don't have too many friends because of that. That's my fault, of course. But you, FPV, I kept you in my small tight circle. I never had any thoughts of crossing you or turning my back on you. I watched you grow, encouraged you, taught you how to deal with those that we call boudles, and was honestly damn proud when you defeated Jonny Fly and won the belt.
Still without a sandwich, Logan turned his head towards the kitchen.
Logan: What's the eta on that sandwich?
Lilith: ... I'm still making it.
Logan: I know. You were making it an hour ago.
Lilith: DO YOU WANT A SANDWICH OR NOT?!
Logan: It'd be nice.
Lilith walked out of the kitchen carrying a paper plate with a 'sandwich'. She sat it down in front of Logan, grinning ear to ear and awaiting his approval. Logan looked down at the 'sandwich', which consisted of a pile of dog shit on a plate.
Logan: This doesn't look like a sandwich to me.
Lilith: Are you blind?
He swiped at his nose, the smell of the dog feces catching weft.
Lilith: I spent a lot of time preparing this!
Logan: Wait is this YOUR poop?
Lilith: Uh...
DO AS DADDY SAYS
The home of Roy Speede. It was modest. He was a modest guy. Logan stood at the doorstep, jamming his finger into the door bell and never letting up until Roy finally answered the door. Roy Speede looked a little tired, his eyelids were puffy and darkened.
Logan: You look like you've been up for days.
Roy: What? Huh? No. Yes. I ordered an escort. Have you seen them?!
Logan pushed past Roy and stepped into the house all Fatherly like.
Logan: What's going on -
Catsy: You tell that whore I'm the first one. I don't do seconds.
The Great Catsy strutted out into the hallway, his chest puffed out, flexing his fury bot muscles.
Catsy: Oh... it's that guy. Hey, Logan, let me know when the fun arrives. Got me, good shit?
The Great Catsy pawed back into the other room, muttering under his robotic breath to another presence.
Catsy: Just that one asshole. Nope. No hookers.
Logan: Roy, what's going on?
Roy: Uh nothing. What would be going on at nine in the morning?!
Logan again pushed past Roy and went into the room Catsy had entered. Once inside, he noticed a giant pile of cocaine on the table, and behind that table stood the Great Catsy and Boudlebot with separate plastic guitars, playing Guitar Hero, with white powder smudged over their faces. Roy Speede fell in behind Logan and ran over to the two coked out robots.
Roy: You played Free Bird without me?!
Boudlebot: I couldn't wait. This white stuff makes me impatient.
Catsy: Now that you're here, do join us, good shit.
Roy: Are you mad at me, Daddy?
Logan paused, looking Roy in the eyes, and then resting a hand over his shoulder.
Logan: Son...
Roy Speede hung is head.
Logan: Were you doing cocaine with these robots?
Roy: That's the thing. I can't say yes or no.
Logan: Why not?
Roy: Because I can't remember.
Logan: I'll take that as a yes.
Roy: Are you mad at me?
Logan: Of course.
Roy: I'm sorry...
Logan: I'm mad you didn't invite me sooner!
Logan dives face first into the table of cocaine and snorts and snorts and fuckin' snorts until everything goes black. Logan awakes, madness has transpired since his last memory. He is laying in a bathtub with a dead hooker and a Sponge Bob Walkie Talkie ductaped to his cheek. He pushed his foot forward into the back of the corpses head rolling the dead hooker off his other leg, she was heavy and it was killing him. Very slowly, it all began to come back to him. Pieces of flashes and bits. The camera displays it all. This isn't a dream gawd damnit, this is televised film making.
Logan: THE SERPENT IS RIGHT ON MY ASS!
He shouted into the Sponge Bob talkie while an angry naked woman with a butcher knife trailed just inches behind him on the go. The other end of the talkie chirped in with Roy's voice.
Roy: You shouldn't have tried to play that guitar with her nipples!
Logan: She liked it at first!
Logan instinctively ducked and the knife swept just above his head.
Roy: Lead her to the hedge maze. Catsy and I have set a trap!
Logan: You have a hedge maze?
Roy: That I do!
Logan couldn't feel his body but he kept running, wondering if he had been stabbed or sliced or poked yet or not. Who knew. Now was not the time to stop and check for wounds or blood. The angry naked hooker with chaffed nipples swung the butcher knife once more, missing Logan's back by an inch. He made it to the hedge maze, where The Great Catsy popped out with a bandana wrapped over his forehead.
Catsy: Don't worry.
Logan leapt behind Catsy, and Catsy jumped into a karate stance.
Catsy: I've got this, good shit.
The Great Catsy fingered some cocaine off his upper lip and jammed it up his noise all the while watching the crazy naked hooker inch closer.
Catsy: HEEE'YAAWWW POW!
The Great Catsy did a complete back flip, Guile flash kicking the naked woman in the jaw. She fell backwards, the butcher knife breaking from her grasp and twirling into the air before falling back down and sinking into her forehead.
Logan: Holy shit.
Catsy: Holy shit is right. I don't play, good shit. I never have. This isn't new to me. Back in Iraq I did this on a daily basis, here, look at this picture... that's me standing beside -
While The Great Catsy rambled on, Logan looked at the camera, the noise of Catsy reducing, and Logan began to cut a promo laying there on his back with a dead hooker feet beside him.
Logan: What's to stop me, FPV? What's to stop me from sticking a knife in your face? It happened to her and I don't even know her. She's just a strange bun for my hotdog. You want anger, FPV? I got it right here.
Boudlebot: RIGHT HERE!
The Boudlebot jumped from the hedges and pelvic thrusted.
Logan: You can't stop me, FPV. You will not stop me. If it wasn't for me you probably wouldn't have even gotten a match for One, you soft jobber punk ass boudle bitch. I'll give you what you want. I'll throw the tickets in your face, you'll go to Connector City, you'll become another resident. A short time ago I never would have thought about it, but you earned my attention, and now you have it. Goodbye, FPV.
Catsy: Why goodbye, good shit?
Logan: Because after One that's it for FPV. He'll never again get this spot light. He lost himself. He attacked me because he's fighting to stay on peoples minds. He attacked me because he wants people to think he might actually be somebody. FPV, you're nothing. People like you attack people like me for attention. You know why? Because you're hitting the end of the road and you know it. You thought doing this, lighting a fire with the biggest name in WCF history would set you back on track. Let me tell you this, yes, you got your big One match... but after that, it's over. There is NO WAY you're walking out with MY belt.
Boudlebot: Are you done?
Logan: Yes.
Catsy: I never did get a chance to fuck her, good shit.
Logan: Well... she's dead now.
Catsy: Your point?
