Post by Logan on Dec 21, 2013 8:35:48 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.
If this were a generation ago, Logan would have sat by his phone and answered a second after the first ring, but since we all now had phones glued to our hips, it was only a matter of making sure the device simply stay charged. He wondered why FPV had yet to call him and give him thanks, after all Logan had avenged his former friend. He had done the right thing by beating FPV's molester, Chester. Did FPV not know of Logan's exploits? Had he not seen the promo? Give him time, Logan thought. Surely he'll come around and invite me over for lunch and a long deserved apology. Despite this, he felt it was only right to devise a backup plan just in case FPV proved not to be so forgiving. The cameras opened up on a warehouse. The area was secluded enough not to be seen from the road, offering privacy to it's owner, the Boudlebot. Paying the bot a visit, Logan parked his car just out front of the warehouse, and approached the large metal roll up doors that provided a front entrance to the warehouse. He figured the Boudlebot would be here, he always was - busy bot. Logan slapped his palm over the metal doors surface, causing it to bind and shake over it's rollers. With a strong enough boot this massive entry could meet its doom. A chain rattled on the opposite side, soon the doors lifted and a grinning Boudlebot stood in the granted entry way.
Boudlebot: Afternoon. What can I do for you?
He stepped under the door while Boudlebot locked it open by snagging the chain into a hook. The warehouse was full of spare parts to numerous items that did not have no business mixing or matching. A stripped boat motor parked on a wooden saw horse next to a mannequin caught his eye.
Logan: You're turning this place into a junkyard.
Boudlebot: Oh no. Everything in here has a purpose.
The bot needed maintenance. He rolled over to a bench on his three wheels, one of them deflated. Logan followed behind.
Logan: You should really get that checked out.
Boudlebot: What's that?
Logan: Your wheel.
Boudlebot: Oh... that.
His red flashlight eyes traveled down onto his base, taking in sight of the deflated rubber.
Boudlebot: That is on the agenda today. The Great Catsy is out right now at this very moment finding me a replacement. He said a man of my class needed something to represent me, so, he suggested I get one of those low profile wheels with the spinners and what not.
The eyes of treachery rolled.
Logan: That's classy alright.
Boudlebot: I do not like sarcasm.
The bot seemed to be heavily occupied in the objects placed out over the bench in front of him. Logan stepped into Boudlebot's side, watching him hot glue an empty beer can to the rotted corpse of a mouse. Logan didn't ask.
Logan: How is the chopper?
Boudlebot: I'm almost done with the repairs, working on the last part now.
Eyeing the beer can and mouse, Logan's eyebrows perked.
Logan: THAT'S the last part?
Boudlebot: Very essential part too.
Logan: I'll... take your word for it. Will it be ready this afternoon?
Boudlebot: That depends.
Logan: On what?
Boudlebot: On how long this glue takes to dry.
He needed to use the helicopter that day if he wanted his plan to spring into action. Logan wanted to pay FPV a visit, a dramatic visit, and a chopper easily provided a sense of dramatics.
Logan: Round up the boys when you're finished. We're flying that bad boy out over FPV's house.
Boudlebot: Oh, should I bring bombs?
Logan: No... wait, you have bombs?
Boudlebot: Made them myself. They're right over there.
The bot pointed off into a corner of the warehouse that contained a pile full of scrap metal. Logan could not pinpoint anything explosive, maybe they were buried under the junk. The average man might flee upon hearing the word 'bomb' made by 'boudlebot' in this very area under the circumstance, especially considering he was using an empty beer can and a dead mouse for helicopter repairs.
Logan: And they will explode?
Boudlebot: Of course. Wouldn't be much of a bomb if it didn't.
Logan: H'm... bring the bombs.
Logan, Boudlebot, The Great Catsy, and a reluctant Roy Speede gathered to the back of the warehouse next to the helicopter that had been fully repaired earlier in the day. They set up a line, Boudlebot rolling from the back of the warehouse, carrying a single bomb with each load, passing it off to Roy Speede, who then passed it to Logan, and so forth to The Great Catsy. Being the last in line, Catsy waddled to the chopper, rolling the bomb into the deck.
Roy: These kind of look like time capsules. You know, those things people put crap in and bury.
Catsy: Indeed, good shit. Our dear President Clinton buried one of these in the nineties right around the time I was exiting Desert Storm.
Roy: What did he put inside it?
Catsy: A twinkie.
The bot handed his last bomb to Roy.
Boudlebot: I would have put a hotdog in there.
The robotic cat shoved the last bomb into the chopper, wiping non-existent sweat from his fury brow. His skin, which was fur, covering his steel frame once belonged to a cat of Boudlebot's, but we already went into that a few maddening promos back.
Logan: That's the last one?
Catsy: I think so, good shit.
The gang hurried into the chopper, Boudlebot taking the pilots seat. He was the only one who knew how to operate this beast. Roy Speede stepped onto the deck, however left his other foot on the ground, and paused there with hesitation. Logan reached a helping hand out to Roy to pull him in, but Roy declined.
Logan: What's wrong?
Roy: This doesn't feel right. What if he dies?
Boudlebot: They're just bombs. Geez.
Catsy: Back in Storm, I kicked a bomb. I kicked it because I knew right then and there, good shit, that if I were ever to conquer my great fear of dying and be able to return to my love, that I needed to show that bomb who was boss.
Boudlebot: What happened?
Catsy: It blew off my penis.
Boudlebot: Oh.
Logan: It's okay, Roy. I understand if you want to sit this one out.
Roy: If it was anyone else I'd be right there. I'm not going, but... I'm not going to try and stop you either.
The propeller kicked off, spinning in circles until eventually becoming a blurred sight of twirling steel.
Roy: Good luck, Dad.
The chopper lifted from the ground, Logan half way hung out the side, looking down at Roy while becoming airborne, watching Roy grow smaller and smaller. Roy hit a 'so long' pelvic thrust, and Logan hit one back. Now in flight, the chopper effortlessly flew towards its destination.
Catsy: So, good shit, what is the plan?
The Great Catsy waddled over beside Logan.
Logan: It's a win-win. We're going to bomb FPV's house, if he's there, and if he survives... we'll frame Chester for it.
Catsy: And if he doesn't?
Logan: Then I'll be getting a bye week at One.
Catsy: Ah, good plan, good shit.
The bot chimed in.
Boudlebot: Logan and Roy beat Chester to a pulp, a man who once molested and ruined FPV's life thus creating his trust issues. By doing that FPV may try and make amends with Logan.
Catsy: What's the point of making up with FPV if the other option is his death?
Logan: So he can live long enough for me to betray him.
Boudlebot: He deserves it. NOBODY betrays the Face of Treachery! NOBODY.
The bot slammed his metal fist into the dash, causing the helicopter to momentarily spin out of control. The Great Catsy meowed with panic, jumping onto Logan and clinging to the side of his face. Boudlebot grips the joystick, pulling back hard, and with his other hand he grabs a black afro from under his seat and straps it over his head, thus somehow giving him more confidence. And it does. Eventually he steered back into the clear and the flight resumed a comfortable travel.
Logan: That's his house. Keep it steady, boudle.
The Great Catsy took a few deep breaths, preparing himself for blood shed, not before fastening his lucky bandanna around his forehead. He reached down, grabbing one of the bombs, and handing it off to Logan.
Catsy: Will you be doing the honors, good shit?
He took the bomb from Catsy.
Logan: Of course.
Once in a safe position, the Boudlebot hovered the chopper over FPV's house.
Boudlebot: BOMBS AWAY!
Logan edged to the side of the chopper, the bomb tightly locked into his hands. He looked over the roof of FPV's modest house, prepared to drop death.
Logan: Until next time... old friend.
And after the dramatic whisper, the bomb ejected from his hands and cut through the air hitting FPV's roof. The bomb smacked against the roofs surface, rolling down off it's peak and dropping down to the sidewalk below. Logan idly shielded his face, expecting a massive explosion. Instead he got... MUSTARD? The 'bomb' hit the concrete and one end of the canister popped open oozing out a small gulp of yellow mustard. Logan angrily turned to Boudlebot.
Logan: BOUDLEBOT!
Boudlebot: WHAT?!
Logan: These aren't bombs!
Boudlebot: The hell they are... look at that glorious mustard on his sidewalk. He'll have to rent a pressure washer to get rid of that stain!
Catsy attempted to hand Logan another mustard bomb, however Logan pushed it aside, and sat down with a long sigh. The Great Catsy sighed as well.
Catsy: Mission abort, good shit?
Logan: Bring it home, Boudlebot...
The scene faded while the chopper turned back towards the warehouse, panning out on the image of a broken 'bomb' on FPV's sidewalk, a sidewalk now containing a small puddle of mustard.
If this were a generation ago, Logan would have sat by his phone and answered a second after the first ring, but since we all now had phones glued to our hips, it was only a matter of making sure the device simply stay charged. He wondered why FPV had yet to call him and give him thanks, after all Logan had avenged his former friend. He had done the right thing by beating FPV's molester, Chester. Did FPV not know of Logan's exploits? Had he not seen the promo? Give him time, Logan thought. Surely he'll come around and invite me over for lunch and a long deserved apology. Despite this, he felt it was only right to devise a backup plan just in case FPV proved not to be so forgiving. The cameras opened up on a warehouse. The area was secluded enough not to be seen from the road, offering privacy to it's owner, the Boudlebot. Paying the bot a visit, Logan parked his car just out front of the warehouse, and approached the large metal roll up doors that provided a front entrance to the warehouse. He figured the Boudlebot would be here, he always was - busy bot. Logan slapped his palm over the metal doors surface, causing it to bind and shake over it's rollers. With a strong enough boot this massive entry could meet its doom. A chain rattled on the opposite side, soon the doors lifted and a grinning Boudlebot stood in the granted entry way.
Boudlebot: Afternoon. What can I do for you?
He stepped under the door while Boudlebot locked it open by snagging the chain into a hook. The warehouse was full of spare parts to numerous items that did not have no business mixing or matching. A stripped boat motor parked on a wooden saw horse next to a mannequin caught his eye.
Logan: You're turning this place into a junkyard.
Boudlebot: Oh no. Everything in here has a purpose.
The bot needed maintenance. He rolled over to a bench on his three wheels, one of them deflated. Logan followed behind.
Logan: You should really get that checked out.
Boudlebot: What's that?
Logan: Your wheel.
Boudlebot: Oh... that.
His red flashlight eyes traveled down onto his base, taking in sight of the deflated rubber.
Boudlebot: That is on the agenda today. The Great Catsy is out right now at this very moment finding me a replacement. He said a man of my class needed something to represent me, so, he suggested I get one of those low profile wheels with the spinners and what not.
The eyes of treachery rolled.
Logan: That's classy alright.
Boudlebot: I do not like sarcasm.
The bot seemed to be heavily occupied in the objects placed out over the bench in front of him. Logan stepped into Boudlebot's side, watching him hot glue an empty beer can to the rotted corpse of a mouse. Logan didn't ask.
Logan: How is the chopper?
Boudlebot: I'm almost done with the repairs, working on the last part now.
Eyeing the beer can and mouse, Logan's eyebrows perked.
Logan: THAT'S the last part?
Boudlebot: Very essential part too.
Logan: I'll... take your word for it. Will it be ready this afternoon?
Boudlebot: That depends.
Logan: On what?
Boudlebot: On how long this glue takes to dry.
He needed to use the helicopter that day if he wanted his plan to spring into action. Logan wanted to pay FPV a visit, a dramatic visit, and a chopper easily provided a sense of dramatics.
Logan: Round up the boys when you're finished. We're flying that bad boy out over FPV's house.
Boudlebot: Oh, should I bring bombs?
Logan: No... wait, you have bombs?
Boudlebot: Made them myself. They're right over there.
The bot pointed off into a corner of the warehouse that contained a pile full of scrap metal. Logan could not pinpoint anything explosive, maybe they were buried under the junk. The average man might flee upon hearing the word 'bomb' made by 'boudlebot' in this very area under the circumstance, especially considering he was using an empty beer can and a dead mouse for helicopter repairs.
Logan: And they will explode?
Boudlebot: Of course. Wouldn't be much of a bomb if it didn't.
Logan: H'm... bring the bombs.
BOMBS AWAY
Logan, Boudlebot, The Great Catsy, and a reluctant Roy Speede gathered to the back of the warehouse next to the helicopter that had been fully repaired earlier in the day. They set up a line, Boudlebot rolling from the back of the warehouse, carrying a single bomb with each load, passing it off to Roy Speede, who then passed it to Logan, and so forth to The Great Catsy. Being the last in line, Catsy waddled to the chopper, rolling the bomb into the deck.
Roy: These kind of look like time capsules. You know, those things people put crap in and bury.
Catsy: Indeed, good shit. Our dear President Clinton buried one of these in the nineties right around the time I was exiting Desert Storm.
Roy: What did he put inside it?
Catsy: A twinkie.
The bot handed his last bomb to Roy.
Boudlebot: I would have put a hotdog in there.
The robotic cat shoved the last bomb into the chopper, wiping non-existent sweat from his fury brow. His skin, which was fur, covering his steel frame once belonged to a cat of Boudlebot's, but we already went into that a few maddening promos back.
Logan: That's the last one?
Catsy: I think so, good shit.
The gang hurried into the chopper, Boudlebot taking the pilots seat. He was the only one who knew how to operate this beast. Roy Speede stepped onto the deck, however left his other foot on the ground, and paused there with hesitation. Logan reached a helping hand out to Roy to pull him in, but Roy declined.
Logan: What's wrong?
Roy: This doesn't feel right. What if he dies?
Boudlebot: They're just bombs. Geez.
Catsy: Back in Storm, I kicked a bomb. I kicked it because I knew right then and there, good shit, that if I were ever to conquer my great fear of dying and be able to return to my love, that I needed to show that bomb who was boss.
Boudlebot: What happened?
Catsy: It blew off my penis.
Boudlebot: Oh.
Logan: It's okay, Roy. I understand if you want to sit this one out.
Roy: If it was anyone else I'd be right there. I'm not going, but... I'm not going to try and stop you either.
The propeller kicked off, spinning in circles until eventually becoming a blurred sight of twirling steel.
Roy: Good luck, Dad.
The chopper lifted from the ground, Logan half way hung out the side, looking down at Roy while becoming airborne, watching Roy grow smaller and smaller. Roy hit a 'so long' pelvic thrust, and Logan hit one back. Now in flight, the chopper effortlessly flew towards its destination.
Catsy: So, good shit, what is the plan?
The Great Catsy waddled over beside Logan.
Logan: It's a win-win. We're going to bomb FPV's house, if he's there, and if he survives... we'll frame Chester for it.
Catsy: And if he doesn't?
Logan: Then I'll be getting a bye week at One.
Catsy: Ah, good plan, good shit.
The bot chimed in.
Boudlebot: Logan and Roy beat Chester to a pulp, a man who once molested and ruined FPV's life thus creating his trust issues. By doing that FPV may try and make amends with Logan.
Catsy: What's the point of making up with FPV if the other option is his death?
Logan: So he can live long enough for me to betray him.
Boudlebot: He deserves it. NOBODY betrays the Face of Treachery! NOBODY.
The bot slammed his metal fist into the dash, causing the helicopter to momentarily spin out of control. The Great Catsy meowed with panic, jumping onto Logan and clinging to the side of his face. Boudlebot grips the joystick, pulling back hard, and with his other hand he grabs a black afro from under his seat and straps it over his head, thus somehow giving him more confidence. And it does. Eventually he steered back into the clear and the flight resumed a comfortable travel.
Logan: That's his house. Keep it steady, boudle.
The Great Catsy took a few deep breaths, preparing himself for blood shed, not before fastening his lucky bandanna around his forehead. He reached down, grabbing one of the bombs, and handing it off to Logan.
Catsy: Will you be doing the honors, good shit?
He took the bomb from Catsy.
Logan: Of course.
Once in a safe position, the Boudlebot hovered the chopper over FPV's house.
Boudlebot: BOMBS AWAY!
Logan edged to the side of the chopper, the bomb tightly locked into his hands. He looked over the roof of FPV's modest house, prepared to drop death.
Logan: Until next time... old friend.
And after the dramatic whisper, the bomb ejected from his hands and cut through the air hitting FPV's roof. The bomb smacked against the roofs surface, rolling down off it's peak and dropping down to the sidewalk below. Logan idly shielded his face, expecting a massive explosion. Instead he got... MUSTARD? The 'bomb' hit the concrete and one end of the canister popped open oozing out a small gulp of yellow mustard. Logan angrily turned to Boudlebot.
Logan: BOUDLEBOT!
Boudlebot: WHAT?!
Logan: These aren't bombs!
Boudlebot: The hell they are... look at that glorious mustard on his sidewalk. He'll have to rent a pressure washer to get rid of that stain!
Catsy attempted to hand Logan another mustard bomb, however Logan pushed it aside, and sat down with a long sigh. The Great Catsy sighed as well.
Catsy: Mission abort, good shit?
Logan: Bring it home, Boudlebot...
The scene faded while the chopper turned back towards the warehouse, panning out on the image of a broken 'bomb' on FPV's sidewalk, a sidewalk now containing a small puddle of mustard.
