Post by 'The Shine' Brent Alpine on May 29, 2016 16:59:09 GMT -5
(Colours in this promo have been sponsored and paid for by the Hue World Order.)
Judgement. Justice. Cruel condemnation for some, freeing forgiveness for others. This room has changed many lives, sometimes justly but often the rough hand of the law has been far too callous. What fate awaits in this court today?
The court is just like any other - furnished in shiny wood, Old Glory standing proud and adorned with legal symbols. However, its protagonists break the mould. At the front of the prosecution side sits the radiant Esther, new medical aid to 'The Shine' Brent Alpine. On the opposing defence side sits a shamed looking 'The Vulture' Dallas Culture and he is joined by Percy Micro who appears to be his counsel. The miniature pig is seated awkwardly on top of the desk.
Alpine stands intimidatingly in the position the bailiff would normally be. He looks up to the Judge, standing up behind his bench, imminently giving his verdict. The poor Judge cannot be more than 18. The rest of the court attendees are composed of various ragtag individuals who appear to have been enticed off the street with the lure of free donuts.
Judge: Mr. Culture, in the charges of impersonating a shoe salesman and inappropriate sniffing, I hereby declare you GUILTY! You are therefore sentenced to 10 hours of community service. You will atone for your actions by working at a residential scout's camp for boys and girls who have been orphaned or abandoned. Good day!
Percy Micro: OBJECTION YOUR HONOUR!
Judge: You can't object, counsellor. I have given my verdict and it is final!
Percy Micro: As my client has repeatedly asserted, he was merely doing voluntary work. His sniffing was an unfortunate result of leather induced hay fever.
Esther stands up defiantly.
Esther: OBJECTION... ERR TOO, YOUR HONOUR!
Judge: Don't make me use my gavel (copyright Corey Black)!
Esther: Your honour, I have to say two things. Firstly, wasn't it interesting how Mr. Culture was only volunteering when female clients came to try on footwear? The evidence also points to his insistence on them removing their socks and many of the witnesses reported never receiving said socks back.
Percy Micro: My client astutely noticed the potential for verrucas to spread and did not wish to contaminate the shoes with suspect socks.
Esther: Whatever. My other objection, your honour, is based on your sentencing. Isn't it inappropriate to assign someone convicted of a sexually perverse offense to an environment containing numerous minors?
Judge: I WILL SWING THE BANHAMMER IF YOU CONTINUE TO HOLD THIS COURT IN CONTEMPT!!!
In enforced acceptance of this ruling, Esther leaves the courtroom. Dallas Culture, carrying his legal aid Percy Micro, follow shortly thereafter. The waifs and strays within the court also leave and bailiff Alpine hands them donuts on the way out. When everyone is gone, Alpine turns to the judge.
Brent Alpine: Aww thanks mate. You were a beaut!
Judge: It was my pleasure, sir. I'm a big fan!
A limousine is en route down a dusty highway flanked by arid desert. Inside, we see Brent Alpine accompanied by E.M.S. Esther is studying a large ream of typed notes. Dallas Culture, opposite her, is looking down solemnly and with focus. He's either sulking over the court ruling or perusing the young nurse's pristinely pedicured, flip flop framed feet. Percy Micro eats messily out of a small bowl on the seat.
Esther: You know, Brent, this Stuart Slane guy isn't too bad after all. He was a vicious pedant in his early WCF years but has recently mellowed into a caring man of integrity. Please make sure you wrestle him fairly and don't hurt him too much.
Percy Micro: Nonsense, you naïve cretin. Slane hasn't changed. The man is incapable of change, only pretention. If you studied the notes more carefully, you would have observed that Seth Lerch asked Slane to return as a 'face', whatever that means. The point is that he's playing a charade and he has you fooled.
Esther: You're so cynical, Percy. Just because you don't believe in redemption and transformation, doesn't mean that you should project your scepticism onto Stuart Slane. Every man deserves another chance. Especially with Jesus - after all, it says here that Slane is a self-confessed Christian.
Percy Micro: Your Jesus is simply a fairytale - just like the notion that Slane has redeemed himself.
For the first time all journey, Dallas Culture raises his head to provide an utterance.
Dallas Culture: Speaking of Jesus, he goes around washing people's feet and it's all good and OK with society. I volunteer at a shoe store out of the goodness of my heart and try to cleanse and rebalance some sole chakras and all of a sudden I'm a reprobate?! This is such a pitiful expression of low consciousness.
Esther: That's so offensive, Dallas. Jesus washed his disciple's feet as an act of service. You smelt women's feet as an act of... eww, I don't want to know.
She crosses her feet to try to cover them from Culture's roving eyes.
Dallas Culture: Look, Esther, I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot... I mean, gotten off on the wrong... err, thing. For what it's worth, I happen to agree with you. I believe Slane has repaid his karmic debt and is operating from a higher, more evolved auric plain.
Esther: Thank you Dallas.
She uncrosses her feet to reward his agreement and his eyes dart straight back to them, as if he has no control over them.
Percy Micro: Get a room you two! Let's enquire as to Master Alpine's discernment. What say you?
Brent Alpine: Well dingo, I happen to know or care very little about Stuart... what's his name? Sloan? Slime?
Esther: Slane.
Brent Alpine: That's the flamin' galah. Yeah, as I said, I don't know about him and I sure as bloody hell haven't taken a look at those notes but...
He pauses for reflection.
Brent Alpine: My take on Slane is that he has a serious inadequacy complex. We all know why grown men are drawn into the role of Scoutmasters? They desperately crave control and power that they lack, both internally and with those around them. Their only hope is to assert themselves in a position of power over weak, impressionable little mongrel boys. As Dallas would say 'the world is your mirror'. Slane is attracted to positions of dominance over little boys because that's exactly what he is. He's a little boy.
Everything he has done has been a failure. He's been US Champion, TV Champion and Internet Champion in several years on the WCF roster. It must torture him that I, 'The Shine', am two matches away from becoming WCF World Champion after only just arriving. He smells greatness and the odour burns through him like a rotting corpse.
He keeps his drongo boys trapped in a camp in Mexico because they are the only thing he can't lose. He's oppressing them with blue sky notions of fairness and good values because otherwise they might take some nous and initiative and stand up to him. He might claim to have softened but he still desires a 'Right America' which will never be attained. Why? Because America will never be right. He's draconian and out of touch.
He attempted to ban the world of emoticons because he's against self expression. Strewth, he's a man who lacks any kind of colour or vibrancy. He drifts in and out of personality to personality because he recognises his own drabness. To his credit, I'll admit that he's quite self aware on that front. Whether he's Hog Wild, Locomotora Desbocado or plain old Stuart Slane, he does not have a prayer of matching my supreme effervescence and majesty.
Where's his family, anyway? Letitia his wife. Little Reagan, Ronald and Wilson. Where are they? That's right - they got bored of him too. He was probably keeping them under a leash of control like he does his Camp... because the man is too insecure to sustain real relationships. He doesn't let people flourish. He forbids them to SHINE.
I will utterly humiliate him at Slam and book my place in the World Title match at Blast. This is my destiny. Half the roster recognised the utter inevitability of my supremacy... that's why they let the door hit their bloody arses on the way out. Slane, the stubborn old drongo, just had to hang on and get in my way, doesn't he? That's why I will not show him mercy, Esther. Sorry. He's been in this business for too long to not recognise when it's best just to bow out. He tried repeatedly against Jonny Fly and always fell short. How ignorant, then, for him to bother stepping in the ring with a man far more magnificent than Fly. I am in a completely different stratosphere.
So, he needs to stay at home and comfort himself with his mother's Bauernfruhatuck and get back to what he's actually good at - Macramé.
Esther: Hang on... I thought you said you don't know anything about Stuart Slane? Seems you've done your research.
Brent Alpine: Stuart who?
Percy Micro: That was a work of genius, Mr. Alpine. It seems my influence is rubbing off on you.
The limosine passes a sign - 'Bienvenido a Mexico'.
The limo pulls up at a camp that looks suspiciously like Camp Slane. Except it isn't because that would violate all sorts of WCF rules. Clearly.
The Mexican youngsters cower in fear as Alpine and his E.M.S. entourage approach.
Brent Alpine: NIÑOS, LISTEN! This is my cousin Dallas Culture who will be leading your sessions today.
Dallas Culture: Bambinos, mon petits enfants, who among you have heard of Prassana Yoga? No... how about Celtic Soul Gazing? ... Never mind, you look like drug mules - have you tried Ayahuasca?
They stare blankly and terrified.
Dallas Culture: OK. Any of you SPPEEEEEAAAAAKKKK ENNNNNGLLLLLIIIIIIISHHHH? Have you even seen adult human beings before?
A young boy, let's call him Papito, replies.
Papito: Sir, we see lot of men. The Boss bring round lot people.
Esther: Ah yes, Slane has lots of interesting friends.
Percy Micro: Indeed. I've lost count of these obscure individuals - Jessie Heenan, Buzz Worthy, Andre the Pilant, Circe Cicero, Gabriel Plonck, Little Green Man...
Brent Alpine: Yeah, lots of other irrelevant drongos... Dagmar Eisenhuften, Jeff Purse. Only bloody morons need such hangers on!
The camera pans round to show Percy Micro, Esther, Dallas Culture. Suddenly, a litany of WCF's forgotten supporting cast come into shot and wave ironically at the camera.
Brent Alpine: Anyway Percy, I got some friends to introduce you too. Dallas and Esther, commence the activities.
Alpine leads Percy to a messy pig pen labelled 'Property of PETS Program - Defenders of Swine Rights'. There are around twenty hogs who instantly swarm towards the edge of the pen to get a closer view of their new and technologically adorned pig companion.
Percy Micro: Sir, you better keep me from those insolent beings! They should all be executed like the vermin they are!
Brent Alpine: Now now, calm down, Percy. Circe Cicero will have your guts for garters, mate! Not to mention Slane. Did you know he listed 'Animal Husbandry' under his interests on his dating profile? How apt!
Percy Micro: Pigs are filth. If it weren't for my purposes, this being you see bearing my equipment would form tomorrow's breakfast sandwich!
Brent Alpine: Percy mate, like Stuart Slane or whatever the drongos name is... you really need to get laid!
Alpine picks Percy up and hovers him over the pig pen.
Percy Micro: Mr. Alpine, DON'T YOU DARE!
With that, Alpine places Percy's animal body into the pig pen. What ensues can only be described as a what a pig enthusiast's dream hardcore porn movie would look like. With even more pig sperm.
The camera secretly films a young Mexican girl, let's call her Roza Mendez, confiding tearfully in a sympathetic Esther.
Roza Mendez: Our Boss is cruel. He make us act nice and happy for camera but he control us and scream and shout at us. We cry and we want to hide but we can't because he be even more mean to us.
Suddenly, Brent Alpine enters the shot and is carrying a rather filthy Percy, laced in mud and a white sticky substance. Roza quivers and trembles.
Esther: Brent, thank goodness you're here! I'm so sorry. I got it completely wrong about Slane. It turns out he grossly mistreats these poor young things. I was totally deceived. Please forgive me. I thought it was possible Slane had changed but it seems I was most mistaken. Please destroy him at Slam. He needs to be stopped. He needs to be punished.
She hugs him mournfully.
Brent Alpine: OK, run along Esther. I'll meet you in the limo. These kids need... err, liberating.
Esther leaves. Alpine's sympathetic countenance changes to one of greater malice. Young Roza gets down on her knees, petrified.
Roza Mendez: I'm sorry Boss. I'm so sorry.
DUM DUM DUM! Whatever fate befall young Roza is unknown as we fade... to... black.
N.B. No pigs or children were harmed in the making of this promo. Afterwards however...
Judgement. Justice. Cruel condemnation for some, freeing forgiveness for others. This room has changed many lives, sometimes justly but often the rough hand of the law has been far too callous. What fate awaits in this court today?
The court is just like any other - furnished in shiny wood, Old Glory standing proud and adorned with legal symbols. However, its protagonists break the mould. At the front of the prosecution side sits the radiant Esther, new medical aid to 'The Shine' Brent Alpine. On the opposing defence side sits a shamed looking 'The Vulture' Dallas Culture and he is joined by Percy Micro who appears to be his counsel. The miniature pig is seated awkwardly on top of the desk.
Alpine stands intimidatingly in the position the bailiff would normally be. He looks up to the Judge, standing up behind his bench, imminently giving his verdict. The poor Judge cannot be more than 18. The rest of the court attendees are composed of various ragtag individuals who appear to have been enticed off the street with the lure of free donuts.
Judge: Mr. Culture, in the charges of impersonating a shoe salesman and inappropriate sniffing, I hereby declare you GUILTY! You are therefore sentenced to 10 hours of community service. You will atone for your actions by working at a residential scout's camp for boys and girls who have been orphaned or abandoned. Good day!
Percy Micro: OBJECTION YOUR HONOUR!
Judge: You can't object, counsellor. I have given my verdict and it is final!
Percy Micro: As my client has repeatedly asserted, he was merely doing voluntary work. His sniffing was an unfortunate result of leather induced hay fever.
Esther stands up defiantly.
Esther: OBJECTION... ERR TOO, YOUR HONOUR!
Judge: Don't make me use my gavel (copyright Corey Black)!
Esther: Your honour, I have to say two things. Firstly, wasn't it interesting how Mr. Culture was only volunteering when female clients came to try on footwear? The evidence also points to his insistence on them removing their socks and many of the witnesses reported never receiving said socks back.
Percy Micro: My client astutely noticed the potential for verrucas to spread and did not wish to contaminate the shoes with suspect socks.
Esther: Whatever. My other objection, your honour, is based on your sentencing. Isn't it inappropriate to assign someone convicted of a sexually perverse offense to an environment containing numerous minors?
Judge: I WILL SWING THE BANHAMMER IF YOU CONTINUE TO HOLD THIS COURT IN CONTEMPT!!!
In enforced acceptance of this ruling, Esther leaves the courtroom. Dallas Culture, carrying his legal aid Percy Micro, follow shortly thereafter. The waifs and strays within the court also leave and bailiff Alpine hands them donuts on the way out. When everyone is gone, Alpine turns to the judge.
Brent Alpine: Aww thanks mate. You were a beaut!
Judge: It was my pleasure, sir. I'm a big fan!
A limousine is en route down a dusty highway flanked by arid desert. Inside, we see Brent Alpine accompanied by E.M.S. Esther is studying a large ream of typed notes. Dallas Culture, opposite her, is looking down solemnly and with focus. He's either sulking over the court ruling or perusing the young nurse's pristinely pedicured, flip flop framed feet. Percy Micro eats messily out of a small bowl on the seat.
Esther: You know, Brent, this Stuart Slane guy isn't too bad after all. He was a vicious pedant in his early WCF years but has recently mellowed into a caring man of integrity. Please make sure you wrestle him fairly and don't hurt him too much.
Percy Micro: Nonsense, you naïve cretin. Slane hasn't changed. The man is incapable of change, only pretention. If you studied the notes more carefully, you would have observed that Seth Lerch asked Slane to return as a 'face', whatever that means. The point is that he's playing a charade and he has you fooled.
Esther: You're so cynical, Percy. Just because you don't believe in redemption and transformation, doesn't mean that you should project your scepticism onto Stuart Slane. Every man deserves another chance. Especially with Jesus - after all, it says here that Slane is a self-confessed Christian.
Percy Micro: Your Jesus is simply a fairytale - just like the notion that Slane has redeemed himself.
For the first time all journey, Dallas Culture raises his head to provide an utterance.
Dallas Culture: Speaking of Jesus, he goes around washing people's feet and it's all good and OK with society. I volunteer at a shoe store out of the goodness of my heart and try to cleanse and rebalance some sole chakras and all of a sudden I'm a reprobate?! This is such a pitiful expression of low consciousness.
Esther: That's so offensive, Dallas. Jesus washed his disciple's feet as an act of service. You smelt women's feet as an act of... eww, I don't want to know.
She crosses her feet to try to cover them from Culture's roving eyes.
Dallas Culture: Look, Esther, I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot... I mean, gotten off on the wrong... err, thing. For what it's worth, I happen to agree with you. I believe Slane has repaid his karmic debt and is operating from a higher, more evolved auric plain.
Esther: Thank you Dallas.
She uncrosses her feet to reward his agreement and his eyes dart straight back to them, as if he has no control over them.
Percy Micro: Get a room you two! Let's enquire as to Master Alpine's discernment. What say you?
Brent Alpine: Well dingo, I happen to know or care very little about Stuart... what's his name? Sloan? Slime?
Esther: Slane.
Brent Alpine: That's the flamin' galah. Yeah, as I said, I don't know about him and I sure as bloody hell haven't taken a look at those notes but...
He pauses for reflection.
Brent Alpine: My take on Slane is that he has a serious inadequacy complex. We all know why grown men are drawn into the role of Scoutmasters? They desperately crave control and power that they lack, both internally and with those around them. Their only hope is to assert themselves in a position of power over weak, impressionable little mongrel boys. As Dallas would say 'the world is your mirror'. Slane is attracted to positions of dominance over little boys because that's exactly what he is. He's a little boy.
Everything he has done has been a failure. He's been US Champion, TV Champion and Internet Champion in several years on the WCF roster. It must torture him that I, 'The Shine', am two matches away from becoming WCF World Champion after only just arriving. He smells greatness and the odour burns through him like a rotting corpse.
He keeps his drongo boys trapped in a camp in Mexico because they are the only thing he can't lose. He's oppressing them with blue sky notions of fairness and good values because otherwise they might take some nous and initiative and stand up to him. He might claim to have softened but he still desires a 'Right America' which will never be attained. Why? Because America will never be right. He's draconian and out of touch.
He attempted to ban the world of emoticons because he's against self expression. Strewth, he's a man who lacks any kind of colour or vibrancy. He drifts in and out of personality to personality because he recognises his own drabness. To his credit, I'll admit that he's quite self aware on that front. Whether he's Hog Wild, Locomotora Desbocado or plain old Stuart Slane, he does not have a prayer of matching my supreme effervescence and majesty.
Where's his family, anyway? Letitia his wife. Little Reagan, Ronald and Wilson. Where are they? That's right - they got bored of him too. He was probably keeping them under a leash of control like he does his Camp... because the man is too insecure to sustain real relationships. He doesn't let people flourish. He forbids them to SHINE.
I will utterly humiliate him at Slam and book my place in the World Title match at Blast. This is my destiny. Half the roster recognised the utter inevitability of my supremacy... that's why they let the door hit their bloody arses on the way out. Slane, the stubborn old drongo, just had to hang on and get in my way, doesn't he? That's why I will not show him mercy, Esther. Sorry. He's been in this business for too long to not recognise when it's best just to bow out. He tried repeatedly against Jonny Fly and always fell short. How ignorant, then, for him to bother stepping in the ring with a man far more magnificent than Fly. I am in a completely different stratosphere.
So, he needs to stay at home and comfort himself with his mother's Bauernfruhatuck and get back to what he's actually good at - Macramé.
Esther: Hang on... I thought you said you don't know anything about Stuart Slane? Seems you've done your research.
Brent Alpine: Stuart who?
Percy Micro: That was a work of genius, Mr. Alpine. It seems my influence is rubbing off on you.
The limosine passes a sign - 'Bienvenido a Mexico'.
The limo pulls up at a camp that looks suspiciously like Camp Slane. Except it isn't because that would violate all sorts of WCF rules. Clearly.
The Mexican youngsters cower in fear as Alpine and his E.M.S. entourage approach.
Brent Alpine: NIÑOS, LISTEN! This is my cousin Dallas Culture who will be leading your sessions today.
Dallas Culture: Bambinos, mon petits enfants, who among you have heard of Prassana Yoga? No... how about Celtic Soul Gazing? ... Never mind, you look like drug mules - have you tried Ayahuasca?
They stare blankly and terrified.
Dallas Culture: OK. Any of you SPPEEEEEAAAAAKKKK ENNNNNGLLLLLIIIIIIISHHHH? Have you even seen adult human beings before?
A young boy, let's call him Papito, replies.
Papito: Sir, we see lot of men. The Boss bring round lot people.
Esther: Ah yes, Slane has lots of interesting friends.
Percy Micro: Indeed. I've lost count of these obscure individuals - Jessie Heenan, Buzz Worthy, Andre the Pilant, Circe Cicero, Gabriel Plonck, Little Green Man...
Brent Alpine: Yeah, lots of other irrelevant drongos... Dagmar Eisenhuften, Jeff Purse. Only bloody morons need such hangers on!
The camera pans round to show Percy Micro, Esther, Dallas Culture. Suddenly, a litany of WCF's forgotten supporting cast come into shot and wave ironically at the camera.
Brent Alpine: Anyway Percy, I got some friends to introduce you too. Dallas and Esther, commence the activities.
Alpine leads Percy to a messy pig pen labelled 'Property of PETS Program - Defenders of Swine Rights'. There are around twenty hogs who instantly swarm towards the edge of the pen to get a closer view of their new and technologically adorned pig companion.
Percy Micro: Sir, you better keep me from those insolent beings! They should all be executed like the vermin they are!
Brent Alpine: Now now, calm down, Percy. Circe Cicero will have your guts for garters, mate! Not to mention Slane. Did you know he listed 'Animal Husbandry' under his interests on his dating profile? How apt!
Percy Micro: Pigs are filth. If it weren't for my purposes, this being you see bearing my equipment would form tomorrow's breakfast sandwich!
Brent Alpine: Percy mate, like Stuart Slane or whatever the drongos name is... you really need to get laid!
Alpine picks Percy up and hovers him over the pig pen.
Percy Micro: Mr. Alpine, DON'T YOU DARE!
With that, Alpine places Percy's animal body into the pig pen. What ensues can only be described as a what a pig enthusiast's dream hardcore porn movie would look like. With even more pig sperm.
The camera secretly films a young Mexican girl, let's call her Roza Mendez, confiding tearfully in a sympathetic Esther.
Roza Mendez: Our Boss is cruel. He make us act nice and happy for camera but he control us and scream and shout at us. We cry and we want to hide but we can't because he be even more mean to us.
Suddenly, Brent Alpine enters the shot and is carrying a rather filthy Percy, laced in mud and a white sticky substance. Roza quivers and trembles.
Esther: Brent, thank goodness you're here! I'm so sorry. I got it completely wrong about Slane. It turns out he grossly mistreats these poor young things. I was totally deceived. Please forgive me. I thought it was possible Slane had changed but it seems I was most mistaken. Please destroy him at Slam. He needs to be stopped. He needs to be punished.
She hugs him mournfully.
Brent Alpine: OK, run along Esther. I'll meet you in the limo. These kids need... err, liberating.
Esther leaves. Alpine's sympathetic countenance changes to one of greater malice. Young Roza gets down on her knees, petrified.
Roza Mendez: I'm sorry Boss. I'm so sorry.
DUM DUM DUM! Whatever fate befall young Roza is unknown as we fade... to... black.
N.B. No pigs or children were harmed in the making of this promo. Afterwards however...
