Post by Jack of Blades on Jun 1, 2006 14:57:05 GMT -5
(There's something intangiably great about being under stress as long as you have the capacity to withstand pressure. Without Churchill stressed from Hitler's Blitzkrieg, the British colonies could very much be speaking German. Without Shakespeare under pressure to appease the monarch of the moment, Macbeth may be vacant from the canon. Stress has the potential to form a drug for all those who are over-worked and under-payed. It not only gives them an opportunity to vocalise their angst and gripe, but gain great satisfaction from surpassing such trials. This placed the current T.V. Champion in a middling debate. Being a man who obviously cannot handle stress all that well, Jack of Blades was standing in front of a high-priced television camera waiting to recant all his worries and frustrations. But with Ellis absent and Joey Lights not exactly posing a threat, Jack of Blades had no driving force, no momentum. He could feel himself falling into mediocrity. All he needed was an instigator. One of petulant honesty and devoid of subtlety.)
Jack of Blades: Scott passes Mildred, Mildred passes Henry and Henry passes Scott. The days whittle away with nothing to keep my attention and I'm expected to play by myself.
(Surely that statement would have had some deeper meaning, some connection to the events about to unfold between the corpse and the madman, had it been able to accompany another statement... but the scene is shattered, like usual when SHE steps on the scene... the door to the room in the background flies open, one of the hinges bursting off and clattering uselessly to the ground as she emerges... the one and only muscle babe. Clothed in barely more than a stunning red bikini top and a pair of loose fitting jeans, showing off quite a bit of what she was known for, and carring the ubiquitious bottle of sake and kendo stick. She looks at Jack for a few second, then over at the camera, giving a slight grin.)
Josephine: Could you excuse us?
(Not bothering to wait for an answer from the audience, Josephine makes her homerun swing, shattering the camera's lens and knocking the equipment to the ground as she turns her attention to Jack.)
Josephine: You're a hard motherfucker to find, you know that?
Jack of Blades: Did you follow the path of destruction or did you follow the white rabbit down the hole? His name is Harvey and he tells me to burn things. So, Lucy Liu, why the dramatic entrance?
Josephine: You know, you better hope that I misheard, because it sounded like you were questioning me right there. (Taking a long swig, Josephine takes a small look around the room) Not bad for a shitbox. You mean you claim to be the real fucking champion, and you can't afford something more than this? Fucking shame. If you weren't such a fucking moron, I'd almost feel sorry for ya. But as it. I got a fucking plane to catch, going over to Japan, gonna make some fucking waves over there. But I figured I'd stop by. Maybe you and I could have a chat about current affairs.
Jack of Blades: Ah good, Godzilla returns to its native land. And as much as I'd love to discuss politics with you, I'm pretty sure my psychiatrists recommended that I don't base my championship decisions based on conjecture from a tag champion who gained her place thanks to the whim of an anorexic. Well, I think they said that in their gargled screams.
Josephine: Hey. First off, I won three fucking matches in a row that night, and survived a fucking beatdown, won two goddamned titles, and yeah, the kid helped me out. But when you've accomplished what I've done, you can fucking talk to me. You haven't even defended your own fucking title yet, while I'm out there every night...
(Forcing herself to take a breath, staring down Jack, almost able to come eye to eye with the madman, the muscle babe takes another long swig from her bottle of sake.)
Josephine: Fuck, that's not what I'm here about. You know why I"m here. Who I wanna talk about. YOu can't get her out of your fucking head.
Jack of Blades: Fiona Apple? I just like her music, that's all. "I bet you could never tell that I knew you didn't know me that well. It is my fault you see. You never learned that much from me."
Josephine: Yeah. Play dumb, shithead. But you know what I'm talking about. Now look. Whatever is between you and that kid Ellis is your business. But the second it starts to fuck with one of the fucking belts I hold, like with your little cock sucking, drug addict bitch Ace... matter of fact, go ahead and tell that shithead that rehab is for people who can't hold their fucking liquor, the little purple haired faggot... eh... fuck...
(All of a sudden, the bizarre tension of the scene is cut by the phone ringing in the background. Josephine looks over at it and nods, looking back at Jack, crossing her arms under her sizeable chest.)
Josephine: Go ahead. I'll wait.
Jack of Blades: "Oh, you silly stupid pastime of mine, You were always good for a rhyme." A call for me? I wonder who it could be?
(Jack slides across a nearby table, as if to impress his Hardcore interlocutor, and grasps the phone receiver. He winks at her before bringing it to his ear. The scene cuts briefly to a massive, high-rise of an office adorned with pictures of female wrestlers, various belts and trophies, and a young Asian man sitting at a large desk, facing a stack full of contracts before cutting back to the scene with Jack and Josephine.)
Tadakichi: Is this Mr.... what was the name... do you prefer Mr. Blades or Mr. Nolan?
Jack of Blades: What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. But I warn you if you address me in the latter, I will make a helmet of your entrails.
Tadakichi: Very well... and in this same manner, you may address me as Mr. Tadakichi. I'm going to be making a trip back to America pretty soon, and I would be most interested in talking to you... actually, we were supposed to meet at the Pay Per View, but those... sercurity men... forced me and my affiliated out of the building. What would be a good time for you, Mr. Blades?
Jack of Blades: Time is a deprivation of ideals when you're immortal. Plus, I think I'm booked to do some charity events for anorexic teenage hookers with kids. Boy, did they hire the wrong person. Anyway please continue, Mr. Tamagotchi.
Tadakichi: It's Tadakichi. You'd be good to remember it well... Mr. Nolan... because that name might very well be on the bottom of your paycheck soon enough. I've seen you at work, Jack, and I like what I see. Tell me... are they paying you well there?
Josephine: You tell whoever it is on the other end to hurry the fuck up.
Tadakichi: Hm?... is that... Mr. Blades, who is that there with you?
Jack of Blades: Some vagrant. Keeps pestering me for booze and money. (To Jojo) No, I don't want any locks of heather. Piss off.
Tadakichi: You are quite an... interesting character, Mr. Blades. Just the type of man I need to revitalize my organization. I'll be in touch...
(Something clicks in Josephine's head, the haze of alcohol finally clearing slightly as she realizes who's on the phone. Roughly grabbing Jack's hand and tossing it aside, she grabs the phone for herself and begins shouting into it)
Josephine:WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING CALLING HERE YOU PIECE OF SHIT?
Jack of Blades: Look, I'm sure he doesn't want any of your goods either, gypsy merchant.
(The phone suddenly hangs up, the view cutting back to Tadakichi's office, a drop of sweat trickling down his forehead. The camera pans right to show that glorious Chris was sitting in the office. She looks over with a sigh at Tadakichi.)
glorious Chris: She was there, wasn't she?
(The camera cuts back to Josephine and Jack, as the muscle babe stares down the grinning blade, tossing her bottle of sake aside as it shatters into the wall, gripping her kendo stick that much tighter)
Josephine: You're working with that motherfucker, aren't you? That's what this shit is all about?
Jack of Blades: My minds hurt. Your babble rivals mine, crazy lady.
Josephine: Let me clear that shit up, by all means.
(And with her own special way with people, Josephine makes her emotions known with a vicious kendo shot to Jack's head. Tossing the stick aside, she stomps out of the room, grumbling in Japanese. Jack rolls around on the floor rubbing his scalp as if to calm the pain. A few road-agents crowd around the moving heap as if to check on him, begrudingly. However, just as soon as their hands land on his back, a couplet of lyrics from Fiona Apple's 'Tymps' is heard, "I'm either sick in the head, I need to be bleed dry, to quit", soon joined by a dose of maniacal laughter.)
Jack of Blades: Scott passes Mildred, Mildred passes Henry and Henry passes Scott. The days whittle away with nothing to keep my attention and I'm expected to play by myself.
(Surely that statement would have had some deeper meaning, some connection to the events about to unfold between the corpse and the madman, had it been able to accompany another statement... but the scene is shattered, like usual when SHE steps on the scene... the door to the room in the background flies open, one of the hinges bursting off and clattering uselessly to the ground as she emerges... the one and only muscle babe. Clothed in barely more than a stunning red bikini top and a pair of loose fitting jeans, showing off quite a bit of what she was known for, and carring the ubiquitious bottle of sake and kendo stick. She looks at Jack for a few second, then over at the camera, giving a slight grin.)
Josephine: Could you excuse us?
(Not bothering to wait for an answer from the audience, Josephine makes her homerun swing, shattering the camera's lens and knocking the equipment to the ground as she turns her attention to Jack.)
Josephine: You're a hard motherfucker to find, you know that?
Jack of Blades: Did you follow the path of destruction or did you follow the white rabbit down the hole? His name is Harvey and he tells me to burn things. So, Lucy Liu, why the dramatic entrance?
Josephine: You know, you better hope that I misheard, because it sounded like you were questioning me right there. (Taking a long swig, Josephine takes a small look around the room) Not bad for a shitbox. You mean you claim to be the real fucking champion, and you can't afford something more than this? Fucking shame. If you weren't such a fucking moron, I'd almost feel sorry for ya. But as it. I got a fucking plane to catch, going over to Japan, gonna make some fucking waves over there. But I figured I'd stop by. Maybe you and I could have a chat about current affairs.
Jack of Blades: Ah good, Godzilla returns to its native land. And as much as I'd love to discuss politics with you, I'm pretty sure my psychiatrists recommended that I don't base my championship decisions based on conjecture from a tag champion who gained her place thanks to the whim of an anorexic. Well, I think they said that in their gargled screams.
Josephine: Hey. First off, I won three fucking matches in a row that night, and survived a fucking beatdown, won two goddamned titles, and yeah, the kid helped me out. But when you've accomplished what I've done, you can fucking talk to me. You haven't even defended your own fucking title yet, while I'm out there every night...
(Forcing herself to take a breath, staring down Jack, almost able to come eye to eye with the madman, the muscle babe takes another long swig from her bottle of sake.)
Josephine: Fuck, that's not what I'm here about. You know why I"m here. Who I wanna talk about. YOu can't get her out of your fucking head.
Jack of Blades: Fiona Apple? I just like her music, that's all. "I bet you could never tell that I knew you didn't know me that well. It is my fault you see. You never learned that much from me."
Josephine: Yeah. Play dumb, shithead. But you know what I'm talking about. Now look. Whatever is between you and that kid Ellis is your business. But the second it starts to fuck with one of the fucking belts I hold, like with your little cock sucking, drug addict bitch Ace... matter of fact, go ahead and tell that shithead that rehab is for people who can't hold their fucking liquor, the little purple haired faggot... eh... fuck...
(All of a sudden, the bizarre tension of the scene is cut by the phone ringing in the background. Josephine looks over at it and nods, looking back at Jack, crossing her arms under her sizeable chest.)
Josephine: Go ahead. I'll wait.
Jack of Blades: "Oh, you silly stupid pastime of mine, You were always good for a rhyme." A call for me? I wonder who it could be?
(Jack slides across a nearby table, as if to impress his Hardcore interlocutor, and grasps the phone receiver. He winks at her before bringing it to his ear. The scene cuts briefly to a massive, high-rise of an office adorned with pictures of female wrestlers, various belts and trophies, and a young Asian man sitting at a large desk, facing a stack full of contracts before cutting back to the scene with Jack and Josephine.)
Tadakichi: Is this Mr.... what was the name... do you prefer Mr. Blades or Mr. Nolan?
Jack of Blades: What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. But I warn you if you address me in the latter, I will make a helmet of your entrails.
Tadakichi: Very well... and in this same manner, you may address me as Mr. Tadakichi. I'm going to be making a trip back to America pretty soon, and I would be most interested in talking to you... actually, we were supposed to meet at the Pay Per View, but those... sercurity men... forced me and my affiliated out of the building. What would be a good time for you, Mr. Blades?
Jack of Blades: Time is a deprivation of ideals when you're immortal. Plus, I think I'm booked to do some charity events for anorexic teenage hookers with kids. Boy, did they hire the wrong person. Anyway please continue, Mr. Tamagotchi.
Tadakichi: It's Tadakichi. You'd be good to remember it well... Mr. Nolan... because that name might very well be on the bottom of your paycheck soon enough. I've seen you at work, Jack, and I like what I see. Tell me... are they paying you well there?
Josephine: You tell whoever it is on the other end to hurry the fuck up.
Tadakichi: Hm?... is that... Mr. Blades, who is that there with you?
Jack of Blades: Some vagrant. Keeps pestering me for booze and money. (To Jojo) No, I don't want any locks of heather. Piss off.
Tadakichi: You are quite an... interesting character, Mr. Blades. Just the type of man I need to revitalize my organization. I'll be in touch...
(Something clicks in Josephine's head, the haze of alcohol finally clearing slightly as she realizes who's on the phone. Roughly grabbing Jack's hand and tossing it aside, she grabs the phone for herself and begins shouting into it)
Josephine:WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING CALLING HERE YOU PIECE OF SHIT?
Jack of Blades: Look, I'm sure he doesn't want any of your goods either, gypsy merchant.
(The phone suddenly hangs up, the view cutting back to Tadakichi's office, a drop of sweat trickling down his forehead. The camera pans right to show that glorious Chris was sitting in the office. She looks over with a sigh at Tadakichi.)
glorious Chris: She was there, wasn't she?
(The camera cuts back to Josephine and Jack, as the muscle babe stares down the grinning blade, tossing her bottle of sake aside as it shatters into the wall, gripping her kendo stick that much tighter)
Josephine: You're working with that motherfucker, aren't you? That's what this shit is all about?
Jack of Blades: My minds hurt. Your babble rivals mine, crazy lady.
Josephine: Let me clear that shit up, by all means.
(And with her own special way with people, Josephine makes her emotions known with a vicious kendo shot to Jack's head. Tossing the stick aside, she stomps out of the room, grumbling in Japanese. Jack rolls around on the floor rubbing his scalp as if to calm the pain. A few road-agents crowd around the moving heap as if to check on him, begrudingly. However, just as soon as their hands land on his back, a couplet of lyrics from Fiona Apple's 'Tymps' is heard, "I'm either sick in the head, I need to be bleed dry, to quit", soon joined by a dose of maniacal laughter.)
