Post by 'The Shine' Brent Alpine on Jun 5, 2016 16:28:59 GMT -5
Scene opens with Brent Alpine in an empty studio.
Brent Alpine: G'day. I will beat Steve Orbit on Slam. You know what drongo, it'll be like he didn't even turn up.
Fade to black. The end.
... You didn't think it was over that quickly, did you? We reopen in a riverside café with Brent Alpine and his E.M.S. entourage - the charming Esther, the peculiar Dallas Culture and the mysterious miniature pig Percy Micro.
Brent Alpine: It's the WCF I feel most for. The presence of my beguiling illumination would have made the final of the Classic the highest drawing match in wrestling history. Think of the millions in revenue they have flushed down the drain... all because that bloody referee mongrel couldn't count to three!
Alpine picks up his banana caramel s'mores Frappuccino and sips pensively.
Esther: It wasn't the referee's fault. It was that freaky lady in the pig suit. Circe Cicero, I think her name is. Slane sent her to steal Percy because he couldn't beat you without a distraction.
As the name of Cicero is uttered, Dallas Culture sits upright in his chair and slams his green tea down on the table.
Dallas Culture: And what a distraction she was! The moment she raised her hoof to my mouth, I experienced a satori moment, a leap in consciousness. She shared her blessed yin energy... I need to reconnect with it.
He literally foams from the mouth.
Brent Alpine: Aww mate, you need to get this foot thing under control.
Dallas Culture: What foot thing? Oh Brent, you are so carnal. The egoic mind misidentifies the beautiful moment Circe and I shared as her manipulating me with her beautiful toes but, in the spiritual plains, the moment was a sacred union. You're so quick to ascribe a sexual meaning to that act but my intentions are merely innocent and divine. You see, the soles of the feet are so named for a very special reason. They contain imprints of our eternal souls. Think about it - we lay our feet on many surfaces and we leave an impression etherically with every step we take. Our feet bear our memories, experiences, dreams, heights and falls. What Circe shared with me was the purest form of intimacy.
Esther: Forgive my language but that's bullshit. You have a foot fetish, just own it!
Dallas Culture: You are beyond comprehension of such deeply spiritual things.
Culture sighs and returns to his drink. His eyes dart away and his head bows.
Brent Alpine: Cuz, you're bloody lucky I don't rip you a new arsehole mate. Your perverted 'sacred union' cost me my match!
Dallas Culture: I'm your spiritual advisor, not your bodyguard! Anyway, blame Percy - that's who she was truly seeking, sadly!
Percy Micro is scurrying around the peach coloured couch. Esther restrains him from burrowing down the sides.
Brent Alpine: Percy's a pig, ya dingo! You need to be protecting him. I gotta say that I'm quite concerned that you can't even protect him against a little woman.
Percy Micro: Sir, this body's welfare is not your concern. If the pig is taken, I will find a new proxy. Your concern is appreciated but misguided.
Brent Alpine: Come on Percy mate, I can't abandon ya! You might be a little voice in a box but, to me, you'll always be my little piggy friend.
Percy Micro: That's foolish, Mr. Alpine. If you associate me with this animal, you will only form sentiment. Sentiment will prove your undoing, as was the case against Stuart Slane. Against Steve Orbit this week, you will need to retain total focus - whatever is happening to me.
Alpine gets off his seat and comes to sit next to Esther on the couch. He holds Percy in his lap and strokes him way too firmly.
Brent Alpine: Percy, Percy, you're forgetting that Slane didn't actually pin me. I don't need to be at any sort of focus to beat Orbit this week. The bloody drongo's well past his sell by date. Even in his prime I could've beaten him in my sleep after 20 sambucas and two marathon runs.
Percy Micro: Mr. Alpine, that is a mistake! Underestimate Orbit at your peril. You are, of course, an exquisite athlete but Steve Orbit is a former WCF World Champion. He's an undoubted legend in this place and you would be wise to take him more seriously. Especially with a TV Title shot as your prize.
Brent Alpine: It's all bonza mate. Fair dinkum, I get your concern but I am way too mesmeric for anyone in this federation. Former World Champion or not.
Percy Micro: I fear your easy going attitude will be your undoing. You are certainly talented, sir, but you lost to Slane because you got soft. You were not ruthless enough. You needed to eviscerate him!
Brent Alpine: No drama mate. I got this all covered. No worries, ya little ripper!
Alpine lifts Percy up and gives him a kiss on the snout. Dallas Culture recoils in disgust while Esther giggles.
Brent Alpine: Aw Percy, you're the cutest little maniacal genius I kn...
He's interrupted by a bobbly black substance which slides down his t-shirt. It emerged from Percy's backside. Esther howls with laughter as Brent drops Percy onto his lap in shock.
Brent Alpine: FLAMIN BLOODY LITTLE DRONGO BUGGER! You pooped on me! Don't you know I'm The Shine?!?!
Esther: Here, let me take him to get him all cleaned up.
As Esther reaches over to grab Percy off Alpine's lap, she accidentally brushes her hand against his groin area. She instantly blushes and snatches Percy away swiftly and awkwardly. Alpine gazes at her with the hint of a smile forming on his face.
Esther: I'm sorry Brent.
Alpine stares at her like a newly pubescent boy who has seen a naked woman for the first time.
Brent Alpine: Err... that's... err... OK.
She turns to a rosy shade in her cheeks and looks away to conceal a beaming grin.
Percy Micro: As I told you Mr. Alpine... sentiment will be your downfall.
Brent Alpine: G'day. I will beat Steve Orbit on Slam. You know what drongo, it'll be like he didn't even turn up.
Fade to black. The end.
... You didn't think it was over that quickly, did you? We reopen in a riverside café with Brent Alpine and his E.M.S. entourage - the charming Esther, the peculiar Dallas Culture and the mysterious miniature pig Percy Micro.
Brent Alpine: It's the WCF I feel most for. The presence of my beguiling illumination would have made the final of the Classic the highest drawing match in wrestling history. Think of the millions in revenue they have flushed down the drain... all because that bloody referee mongrel couldn't count to three!
Alpine picks up his banana caramel s'mores Frappuccino and sips pensively.
Esther: It wasn't the referee's fault. It was that freaky lady in the pig suit. Circe Cicero, I think her name is. Slane sent her to steal Percy because he couldn't beat you without a distraction.
As the name of Cicero is uttered, Dallas Culture sits upright in his chair and slams his green tea down on the table.
Dallas Culture: And what a distraction she was! The moment she raised her hoof to my mouth, I experienced a satori moment, a leap in consciousness. She shared her blessed yin energy... I need to reconnect with it.
He literally foams from the mouth.
Brent Alpine: Aww mate, you need to get this foot thing under control.
Dallas Culture: What foot thing? Oh Brent, you are so carnal. The egoic mind misidentifies the beautiful moment Circe and I shared as her manipulating me with her beautiful toes but, in the spiritual plains, the moment was a sacred union. You're so quick to ascribe a sexual meaning to that act but my intentions are merely innocent and divine. You see, the soles of the feet are so named for a very special reason. They contain imprints of our eternal souls. Think about it - we lay our feet on many surfaces and we leave an impression etherically with every step we take. Our feet bear our memories, experiences, dreams, heights and falls. What Circe shared with me was the purest form of intimacy.
Esther: Forgive my language but that's bullshit. You have a foot fetish, just own it!
Dallas Culture: You are beyond comprehension of such deeply spiritual things.
Culture sighs and returns to his drink. His eyes dart away and his head bows.
Brent Alpine: Cuz, you're bloody lucky I don't rip you a new arsehole mate. Your perverted 'sacred union' cost me my match!
Dallas Culture: I'm your spiritual advisor, not your bodyguard! Anyway, blame Percy - that's who she was truly seeking, sadly!
Percy Micro is scurrying around the peach coloured couch. Esther restrains him from burrowing down the sides.
Brent Alpine: Percy's a pig, ya dingo! You need to be protecting him. I gotta say that I'm quite concerned that you can't even protect him against a little woman.
Percy Micro: Sir, this body's welfare is not your concern. If the pig is taken, I will find a new proxy. Your concern is appreciated but misguided.
Brent Alpine: Come on Percy mate, I can't abandon ya! You might be a little voice in a box but, to me, you'll always be my little piggy friend.
Percy Micro: That's foolish, Mr. Alpine. If you associate me with this animal, you will only form sentiment. Sentiment will prove your undoing, as was the case against Stuart Slane. Against Steve Orbit this week, you will need to retain total focus - whatever is happening to me.
Alpine gets off his seat and comes to sit next to Esther on the couch. He holds Percy in his lap and strokes him way too firmly.
Brent Alpine: Percy, Percy, you're forgetting that Slane didn't actually pin me. I don't need to be at any sort of focus to beat Orbit this week. The bloody drongo's well past his sell by date. Even in his prime I could've beaten him in my sleep after 20 sambucas and two marathon runs.
Percy Micro: Mr. Alpine, that is a mistake! Underestimate Orbit at your peril. You are, of course, an exquisite athlete but Steve Orbit is a former WCF World Champion. He's an undoubted legend in this place and you would be wise to take him more seriously. Especially with a TV Title shot as your prize.
Brent Alpine: It's all bonza mate. Fair dinkum, I get your concern but I am way too mesmeric for anyone in this federation. Former World Champion or not.
Percy Micro: I fear your easy going attitude will be your undoing. You are certainly talented, sir, but you lost to Slane because you got soft. You were not ruthless enough. You needed to eviscerate him!
Brent Alpine: No drama mate. I got this all covered. No worries, ya little ripper!
Alpine lifts Percy up and gives him a kiss on the snout. Dallas Culture recoils in disgust while Esther giggles.
Brent Alpine: Aw Percy, you're the cutest little maniacal genius I kn...
He's interrupted by a bobbly black substance which slides down his t-shirt. It emerged from Percy's backside. Esther howls with laughter as Brent drops Percy onto his lap in shock.
Brent Alpine: FLAMIN BLOODY LITTLE DRONGO BUGGER! You pooped on me! Don't you know I'm The Shine?!?!
Esther: Here, let me take him to get him all cleaned up.
As Esther reaches over to grab Percy off Alpine's lap, she accidentally brushes her hand against his groin area. She instantly blushes and snatches Percy away swiftly and awkwardly. Alpine gazes at her with the hint of a smile forming on his face.
Esther: I'm sorry Brent.
Alpine stares at her like a newly pubescent boy who has seen a naked woman for the first time.
Brent Alpine: Err... that's... err... OK.
She turns to a rosy shade in her cheeks and looks away to conceal a beaming grin.
Percy Micro: As I told you Mr. Alpine... sentiment will be your downfall.
