Post by Deleted on Aug 19, 2015 4:42:04 GMT
“DUDE! SICK!”
Grin only looks happy because the smile is painted on. The rest of his body language screams ‘outraged’. Behind him, curled in a fetal position, is Woody. He’s sitting in a rocking chair that’s slightly rocking.
Grin claws at the air in anger. Then his eyeless facade gives the camera his undivided attention:
“El Tiger Del Jenga-Butts, you have crossed SO MANY lines, man! Oh! You have NO idea!”
Grin paces, tugs at his hair, and growls. Woody is still rocking in the fetal position. Actually it’s the rocking chair that’s rocking and y’know what you get the point.
One fat, hairy finger is stabbed directly into the center of frame. From behind this hard pointing finger, Grin speaks again:
“I mean, C’MON, there are KIDS who watch these things, you great red ass! CHILDREN!!! WHO, I might add, have parents, whose wallets ain’t exactly going to be spitting greenbacks at Pollo Bucket when they see what we show their CHILDREN!!! RULE ONE OF POLLOMANIA LIFE, you pale psycho, is DON’T BITE THE BRAND THAT FEEDS YOU!!! And that, ohhhhhh… That right there is bad enough, Ginger-Britches, but no… Noooooooooo, let’s just get the REAL crime out of the way, whadda-ya-say?!”
Cut once again to Woody, still rocking, still fetal. From off frame, Grin slips a pair of headphones on to Woody’s head. The camera cuts back to Grin, who explains:
“No reason to make Woody relive this little trigger moment. Now, let’s just cut the crap and explain why, on August 26th at Chewed Up, Woody is going to make you re-eat the contents of your lower intestines…”
Both of Grin’s cupped, outstretched hands tremble as they approach the camera. He yells:
“You made us watch you SET… A BABY… ON FIRE!!!”
Grin’s hands clench with the raw fury of boulders. Fat boulders. He then whispers:
“You think you know fire, but freckle-flanks, you have not yet been truly burned, ohhhhhh noooo... We do NOT take kindly to baby-killers! On August 26th... at Pollo Hall in Los Angeles California... You’re going to get a fun-sized sample of the Hell that’s waiting for you when you die and have to answer for your cruel infanticide! BELIEVE IT, SUCKA! Woody’s going to be the kindling on your funeral pyre, and I’m gonna light the first torch myself! And if YOU think that--”
Suddenly Woody flies into screen and collides with Grin’s back! Grin turns quickly and starts holding Woody up and away, but it looks a lot like a struggle. His post-it note face looks like two giant demon eyes. There’s a crude crayon drawing of a gun taped to Woody’s hand. Grin continues “struggling to hold Woody back”, yelling:
“NO! STOP! THIS IS A THREE STRIKES STATE AND YOU ONLY HAVE ONE STRIKE LEFT! HE’S NOT WORTH A LIFE SENTENCE, WOODY!”
The “struggle” continues as the scene fades to black.
(final count: 482 words, 2 strikes, and 1 in the chamber)
Grin only looks happy because the smile is painted on. The rest of his body language screams ‘outraged’. Behind him, curled in a fetal position, is Woody. He’s sitting in a rocking chair that’s slightly rocking.
Grin claws at the air in anger. Then his eyeless facade gives the camera his undivided attention:
“El Tiger Del Jenga-Butts, you have crossed SO MANY lines, man! Oh! You have NO idea!”
Grin paces, tugs at his hair, and growls. Woody is still rocking in the fetal position. Actually it’s the rocking chair that’s rocking and y’know what you get the point.
One fat, hairy finger is stabbed directly into the center of frame. From behind this hard pointing finger, Grin speaks again:
“I mean, C’MON, there are KIDS who watch these things, you great red ass! CHILDREN!!! WHO, I might add, have parents, whose wallets ain’t exactly going to be spitting greenbacks at Pollo Bucket when they see what we show their CHILDREN!!! RULE ONE OF POLLOMANIA LIFE, you pale psycho, is DON’T BITE THE BRAND THAT FEEDS YOU!!! And that, ohhhhhh… That right there is bad enough, Ginger-Britches, but no… Noooooooooo, let’s just get the REAL crime out of the way, whadda-ya-say?!”
Cut once again to Woody, still rocking, still fetal. From off frame, Grin slips a pair of headphones on to Woody’s head. The camera cuts back to Grin, who explains:
“No reason to make Woody relive this little trigger moment. Now, let’s just cut the crap and explain why, on August 26th at Chewed Up, Woody is going to make you re-eat the contents of your lower intestines…”
Both of Grin’s cupped, outstretched hands tremble as they approach the camera. He yells:
“You made us watch you SET… A BABY… ON FIRE!!!”
Grin’s hands clench with the raw fury of boulders. Fat boulders. He then whispers:
“You think you know fire, but freckle-flanks, you have not yet been truly burned, ohhhhhh noooo... We do NOT take kindly to baby-killers! On August 26th... at Pollo Hall in Los Angeles California... You’re going to get a fun-sized sample of the Hell that’s waiting for you when you die and have to answer for your cruel infanticide! BELIEVE IT, SUCKA! Woody’s going to be the kindling on your funeral pyre, and I’m gonna light the first torch myself! And if YOU think that--”
Suddenly Woody flies into screen and collides with Grin’s back! Grin turns quickly and starts holding Woody up and away, but it looks a lot like a struggle. His post-it note face looks like two giant demon eyes. There’s a crude crayon drawing of a gun taped to Woody’s hand. Grin continues “struggling to hold Woody back”, yelling:
“NO! STOP! THIS IS A THREE STRIKES STATE AND YOU ONLY HAVE ONE STRIKE LEFT! HE’S NOT WORTH A LIFE SENTENCE, WOODY!”
The “struggle” continues as the scene fades to black.
(final count: 482 words, 2 strikes, and 1 in the chamber)