Post by Cormack MacNeill on Jan 24, 2016 16:47:38 GMT -5
Scene opens a familiar living room view. The battered chair dominates the center of the tableau, almost distracting the viewer from the dominant feature in front. A battered coffee table sits tot he side, pushed away to make room for a three foot high inflatable sheep. The wool covering this abomination is eerily authentic, and it's flat black glass eye stares in permanent shock somewhere off camera. An equally familiar figure steps into frame and settles into the chair, his size 13 boots resting on top of the sheep which sets off a bahhing sound that fades after a few bleats.
He's clad in a faded Ramones T-shirt and equally faded kilt, his beard resplendent in it's growth and his head equally magnificently shaven. With a smile and nod to the camera he cracks the top off of a bottle of beer and takes a long swing.
I bet you're wondering what's up with our wooly friend here. Funny story, that. A little while a go, I was running with a crazy bunch of folks. You remember the Pack right? Anyway, Brother Alex was the craziest of the bunch, and I thought this would have been a great gag gift to leave in his Strangemobile. After consulting with Brother jay and Lassie Blue we decided the chances he might actually use it were to high to take the chance. So, it's been stuffed away in a closet until today.
So thanks Holden, for giving me a use for this. See, our Mr. Holden is on a rant lately, claiming everyone is a sheep and they can't see the truth. The truth is that Mr. Holden is the only one who's getting the wool pulled over his eyes. If you'll pardon the pun. He can't see the forest for the trees. He's out to lunch. Holden, like I said on Twitter, I feel for you. I had an asshole try and program me to do what he couldn't, and he would have gotten away with it too. But he asked too much. He made me choose between my first true love and him. Bad Choice.
At this moment, the lovely Isla Stennet Smith slinks past the camera. Her pale, porcelain face is beaming at Cormack's back as he talks about his first love. Sensing her, he looks back and smiles as she slinks out of frame. He continues to look her way for a few more moments, as any sane man would, and then turns back to the camera
Beer. It was beer he asked me to give up. But I'm not going to tell her that.
Just then the door bell rings.
I'll get that honey.
No! I've got it!
You never let me answer the door anymore. Why?
I wonder!
Flashback
The doorbell rings. Cormack rushes to get it. A young man with a clipboard stands patiently outside.
Good Morning Mr. MacNeill. My name is Alton, and I'd like to ask you a few questions about your local MP, Shannon Quillo.
Politics! I love that!. Let me get something, I'll be right back!
I'll just wait here sir.
Cormack walks back inside out of view. The young man's face turns from that fake smile they always seem to have to one of abject fear.
Sir! What are you do....
BLAM!!
MacNeill hits him with an Instant Hangover, flipping him in the air and cuasing him to tumble all the way back to the street. He staggers to his feet and runs like hell.
Wait, I thought we were going to talk! Where are you going?
MacNeill turns back to the house to see Isla standing there, a very upset look on her face.
What? I'm in training you know?
Flashback ended
Fine! Have it your way. Folks, if you have problems with unwanted solicitors, you can file a complaint, or call the police. All valid options. But nothing gets the point across like a boot in the face. It's pretty fun for me too.
Anyway, where was I. Oh yeah, the match. Holden is a puppet with Henson pulling his strings. Come to think of it, if a guy named Henson is putting words in his mouth, doesn't that make Holden a Muppet instead? Don't let him into you head Holden, be your own man.
Speaking of men, we've got Katherine Phoenix. Crazy Kate. She's got a few shingles missing off her shithouse if you know what I mean. Not all of her dogs are barking. Or to put it in a way she'll get, Katie bear hasn't got enough stuffing in her head. Listen, I'm not going to drag out the usual shit about women not belonging in the ring and all that. because it is bullshit. Lassie Blue is one of the toughest wrestlers I've ever met. That tells me to keep an open mind and treat her like any other crazy batshit bastard out there wrestling. And in this place there's more than a few.
But I've got to give Crazy Kate the benefit of the doubt. If Holden is so manipulated by Henson, who says Katie isn't being fed the same shit. Maybe he's doing what he needs to do to keep her crazy,k keep her under his thumb.
I think K.L. Henson is the key to this whole thing. He's the master manipulator, the man making the moves without having to put his neck on the line. He's using one of them for sure, maybe both, to get what he wants. A slice of the pie. A piece of the power. Guys like Henson are all the same. Take away their minions and what do you have left. A guy who can't do for himself, so he's got to make others do it for him.
I'm going into this match on Sunday with the intention to beat some damn sense into Holden and Phoenix. maybe make them see the light. At the very least leave them with a hangover. And I know with Demarcus Jordan and the lovely Miss White in my corner, we won't have a problem. In fact, if they can fight like they can drink, we're going to be just fine.
The doorbell rings again. MacNeill goes to get up from the chair, but Isla sweeps past, cutting him off. Sinking back down into his chair, Cormack shrugs and addresses the camera again.
Henson, Phoenix, and Holden...You've spread your brand of hate all across social media this week, using any opportunity to make your narrow minded point. On Sunday, you'll have to make it to three people who aren't going to be responding with words. Hope you can back up all your talk. I know we will.
Off camera, you can hear the voice of someone who is presumably at the door.
Good Afternoon Ma'am. I'm Elder Robbins and this is Elder Pike. We'd like to talk about your eternal soul.
Ok, just hold on a second. Honey it's for you!
Cormack springs up from his chair and strides off screen. The next sounds that can be heard is the loud crunch of boot on face, followed by screaming and cursing.
Isla floats into view and gives the camera a wink as she shuts off the feed.
He's clad in a faded Ramones T-shirt and equally faded kilt, his beard resplendent in it's growth and his head equally magnificently shaven. With a smile and nod to the camera he cracks the top off of a bottle of beer and takes a long swing.
I bet you're wondering what's up with our wooly friend here. Funny story, that. A little while a go, I was running with a crazy bunch of folks. You remember the Pack right? Anyway, Brother Alex was the craziest of the bunch, and I thought this would have been a great gag gift to leave in his Strangemobile. After consulting with Brother jay and Lassie Blue we decided the chances he might actually use it were to high to take the chance. So, it's been stuffed away in a closet until today.
So thanks Holden, for giving me a use for this. See, our Mr. Holden is on a rant lately, claiming everyone is a sheep and they can't see the truth. The truth is that Mr. Holden is the only one who's getting the wool pulled over his eyes. If you'll pardon the pun. He can't see the forest for the trees. He's out to lunch. Holden, like I said on Twitter, I feel for you. I had an asshole try and program me to do what he couldn't, and he would have gotten away with it too. But he asked too much. He made me choose between my first true love and him. Bad Choice.
At this moment, the lovely Isla Stennet Smith slinks past the camera. Her pale, porcelain face is beaming at Cormack's back as he talks about his first love. Sensing her, he looks back and smiles as she slinks out of frame. He continues to look her way for a few more moments, as any sane man would, and then turns back to the camera
Beer. It was beer he asked me to give up. But I'm not going to tell her that.
Just then the door bell rings.
I'll get that honey.
No! I've got it!
You never let me answer the door anymore. Why?
I wonder!
Flashback
The doorbell rings. Cormack rushes to get it. A young man with a clipboard stands patiently outside.
Good Morning Mr. MacNeill. My name is Alton, and I'd like to ask you a few questions about your local MP, Shannon Quillo.
Politics! I love that!. Let me get something, I'll be right back!
I'll just wait here sir.
Cormack walks back inside out of view. The young man's face turns from that fake smile they always seem to have to one of abject fear.
Sir! What are you do....
BLAM!!
MacNeill hits him with an Instant Hangover, flipping him in the air and cuasing him to tumble all the way back to the street. He staggers to his feet and runs like hell.
Wait, I thought we were going to talk! Where are you going?
MacNeill turns back to the house to see Isla standing there, a very upset look on her face.
What? I'm in training you know?
Flashback ended
Fine! Have it your way. Folks, if you have problems with unwanted solicitors, you can file a complaint, or call the police. All valid options. But nothing gets the point across like a boot in the face. It's pretty fun for me too.
Anyway, where was I. Oh yeah, the match. Holden is a puppet with Henson pulling his strings. Come to think of it, if a guy named Henson is putting words in his mouth, doesn't that make Holden a Muppet instead? Don't let him into you head Holden, be your own man.
Speaking of men, we've got Katherine Phoenix. Crazy Kate. She's got a few shingles missing off her shithouse if you know what I mean. Not all of her dogs are barking. Or to put it in a way she'll get, Katie bear hasn't got enough stuffing in her head. Listen, I'm not going to drag out the usual shit about women not belonging in the ring and all that. because it is bullshit. Lassie Blue is one of the toughest wrestlers I've ever met. That tells me to keep an open mind and treat her like any other crazy batshit bastard out there wrestling. And in this place there's more than a few.
But I've got to give Crazy Kate the benefit of the doubt. If Holden is so manipulated by Henson, who says Katie isn't being fed the same shit. Maybe he's doing what he needs to do to keep her crazy,k keep her under his thumb.
I think K.L. Henson is the key to this whole thing. He's the master manipulator, the man making the moves without having to put his neck on the line. He's using one of them for sure, maybe both, to get what he wants. A slice of the pie. A piece of the power. Guys like Henson are all the same. Take away their minions and what do you have left. A guy who can't do for himself, so he's got to make others do it for him.
I'm going into this match on Sunday with the intention to beat some damn sense into Holden and Phoenix. maybe make them see the light. At the very least leave them with a hangover. And I know with Demarcus Jordan and the lovely Miss White in my corner, we won't have a problem. In fact, if they can fight like they can drink, we're going to be just fine.
The doorbell rings again. MacNeill goes to get up from the chair, but Isla sweeps past, cutting him off. Sinking back down into his chair, Cormack shrugs and addresses the camera again.
Henson, Phoenix, and Holden...You've spread your brand of hate all across social media this week, using any opportunity to make your narrow minded point. On Sunday, you'll have to make it to three people who aren't going to be responding with words. Hope you can back up all your talk. I know we will.
Off camera, you can hear the voice of someone who is presumably at the door.
Good Afternoon Ma'am. I'm Elder Robbins and this is Elder Pike. We'd like to talk about your eternal soul.
Ok, just hold on a second. Honey it's for you!
Cormack springs up from his chair and strides off screen. The next sounds that can be heard is the loud crunch of boot on face, followed by screaming and cursing.
Isla floats into view and gives the camera a wink as she shuts off the feed.