Post by Buck U Productions on Sept 3, 2015 16:21:36 GMT
“I’ve just about had it with those two!”
Brutus Smith and Holly Guacamole, in the midst of an in-ring training session, turn to see Charlotte O’Neal march into the Embassy’s gym.
“That moron Grin and his wooden dummy aren’t funny anymore. Why does this company even humor this clown by pretending Woody is sentient? And all that stupidity with the cantaloupe… Holly, I’m starting to understand why your brother is obsessed with burning that piece of wood.”
Holly giggles as she wrenches in a headlock on her training partner, Thing Two.
“Did you see the size of Woody’s junk? I thought you guys said he didn’t have a pee pee.”
Charlotte groaned. She took her glasses off and rubbed the bridge of her nose before putting them back on and looking at her charges.
“Brute, how is she doing in the ring?”
Brute gestures with his head to Thing One laying bloody in the corner holding his right arm and Thing Two squeals in pain as Holly suddenly releases him from the headlock, only to kick him in the breadbasket.
“Please, ma’am,” Thing Two moans, as he falls to the mat, “make them stop hurting us.”
“Listen up, you little piece of shit,” Charlotte growls, as she steps up on to the apron.
Brute holds the ropes open for her as she enters the ring. She approaches Thing Two still laying on the mat, pulling the sticks from her hair bun as goes. Reaching down, she grabs him by his blu hair, pulls him up and shoves the sticks into his throat.
“You two vermin disgust me, but you’re still of some use to our cause. So guess what, you’re going to insure we win next Wednesday, or else.”
“Or else what,” Thing One whimpers as he holds his arm.
Charlotte looks to Brute, who walks over to Thing One and locks the iron claw on his head. Soon he’s screaming in agony as Brute squeezes.
“Need I remind you of the parts you played in this whole fiasco so far? You two are as guilty as anyone else in regards to that fire in L.A. last week. How long do you think it will be before Grin and Woody coming looking for you pathetic trash if they get past us?”
She lets Thing Two go and he falls to the mat once more.
“Do I make myself clear?”
Thing Two nods. Charlotte, fixing her hair, gestures to Brute and he releases Thing One from his grasp.
“Now that’s settled…”
Her phone suddenly rings. She answers it and walks away from the others for a few minutes. She returns in obvious distress.
“Holly, your father well be at the show in Tijuana next week. How can this day get any worse?”
Charlotte’s eyes go wide and the camera turns to show El Tigre de Jengibre. He looks around at everyone in the room.
“We need to talk.”
Turning to the camera he adds, “Leave us!”
Camera goes dark.
(498 words and an ominous shroud of darkness falling in Mexico)
Brutus Smith and Holly Guacamole, in the midst of an in-ring training session, turn to see Charlotte O’Neal march into the Embassy’s gym.
“That moron Grin and his wooden dummy aren’t funny anymore. Why does this company even humor this clown by pretending Woody is sentient? And all that stupidity with the cantaloupe… Holly, I’m starting to understand why your brother is obsessed with burning that piece of wood.”
Holly giggles as she wrenches in a headlock on her training partner, Thing Two.
“Did you see the size of Woody’s junk? I thought you guys said he didn’t have a pee pee.”
Charlotte groaned. She took her glasses off and rubbed the bridge of her nose before putting them back on and looking at her charges.
“Brute, how is she doing in the ring?”
Brute gestures with his head to Thing One laying bloody in the corner holding his right arm and Thing Two squeals in pain as Holly suddenly releases him from the headlock, only to kick him in the breadbasket.
“Please, ma’am,” Thing Two moans, as he falls to the mat, “make them stop hurting us.”
“Listen up, you little piece of shit,” Charlotte growls, as she steps up on to the apron.
Brute holds the ropes open for her as she enters the ring. She approaches Thing Two still laying on the mat, pulling the sticks from her hair bun as goes. Reaching down, she grabs him by his blu hair, pulls him up and shoves the sticks into his throat.
“You two vermin disgust me, but you’re still of some use to our cause. So guess what, you’re going to insure we win next Wednesday, or else.”
“Or else what,” Thing One whimpers as he holds his arm.
Charlotte looks to Brute, who walks over to Thing One and locks the iron claw on his head. Soon he’s screaming in agony as Brute squeezes.
“Need I remind you of the parts you played in this whole fiasco so far? You two are as guilty as anyone else in regards to that fire in L.A. last week. How long do you think it will be before Grin and Woody coming looking for you pathetic trash if they get past us?”
She lets Thing Two go and he falls to the mat once more.
“Do I make myself clear?”
Thing Two nods. Charlotte, fixing her hair, gestures to Brute and he releases Thing One from his grasp.
“Now that’s settled…”
Her phone suddenly rings. She answers it and walks away from the others for a few minutes. She returns in obvious distress.
“Holly, your father well be at the show in Tijuana next week. How can this day get any worse?”
Charlotte’s eyes go wide and the camera turns to show El Tigre de Jengibre. He looks around at everyone in the room.
“We need to talk.”
Turning to the camera he adds, “Leave us!”
Camera goes dark.
(498 words and an ominous shroud of darkness falling in Mexico)