Post by fdcm on May 15, 2007 11:53:16 GMT -6
As the scene opens, we are nearly blinded by the light of a bright, tropical sun in a cloudless blue sky. Island music plays in the background as the camera pans down to a peaceful Carribean beach. The beautiful ocean tide lightly kisses the pure white sand, gorgeous half-naked women abound (c'mon, this is an FDCM RP!!), and everyone is having a great time.
Including our champion!!!
The camera finally pans over to reveal FDCM seated in what appears to be some sort of tribal throne, flanked by tiki torches, wearing swim trunks, a lei, sunglasses and (of course) his championship belt. On either side of him, a Diamond Cutter Girl in a string bikini fans him with a giant palm leaf, while a third rubs suntan lotion on his arms and chest.
With a contented sigh, FDCM leans back and takes a big drink of his Bahama Mama from an impossibly huge glass.
FDCM: Now THIS...is the life of a CHAMPION!!! Hahahahahaha!!!!
Giggling insanely, FDCM takes another huge swig of his drink. But after a moment, the girl rubbing lotion on him stops and gives a frustrated sigh.
FDCGirl: ...um. Boss?
FDCM gives a little jump, as if surprised there are other people around.
FDCM: ...yes?
FDCGirl: Look, not to step out of line or anything but...isn't there something more important we should be doing?
FDCM raises his eyebrows and leers at the girl through his shades, a mischevious smile crossing his face.
FDCM: Hey, if you needed a little somethin' somethin' you just had to say so! But here, in front of all the-
FDCGirl: Not that!!!! I'm talking about your wrestling! You have a match in two days! Shouldn't we, you know...practice or strategize or at least fly back to the United States for God's sake!?
FDCM: Oh, indeed. Yeah...I can see where you're coming from. But I'm afraid that won't really be necessary.
FDCGirl: Well why not!?
With a knowing smile, FDCM gets up out of his throne and, taking the girl by the hand, begins walking down the beach with her. Without a word, the other two follow and continue fanning him.
FDCM: You see, No. 45...all that matters to me is winning the undisputed POW World Championship at SuperMania. A match I'm already booked in.
And I can tell you without even looking at the card exactly what kind of match I'm in tomorrow. It'll be a throwaway tag bout with three guys I'm not even remotely involved with, to stall and keep me around until it's time to fight for the title.
And no matter what happens in this match, I still get to wrestle Capaci and I'm still going to beat his ass. So really, it may not sound like a "great competitor" but...I could really give two shits about this week's match. It's just not a priority to me.
FDCGirl: But FDCM...
FDCM: Look. I know you've looked at the matches already. Tell me, who am I wrestling?
FDCGirl: Well, it's you and Mr. Showtime vs. Reck Maverick and Lance Erikson...
FDCM: You see!? Exactly what I said! In the long run, is it really going to matter if me and my on-again, off-again-for-no-reason tag team partner lose to a bodybuilder and a Power Ranger? Does that in any way affect my holy quest to become the one, single, undisputed World Champion of this sport?
FDCGirl: Well, I guess not...
FDCM: Good! Then let's go sit back down and you can do my back. This sun is frying me.
They turn to go back to the chair, but the insistent valet stops again.
FDCGirl: OK, but wait.
FDCM stops and turns, now clearly a little aggravated.
FDCM: ....yes?
FDCGirl: Even if we somehow assume that not every match matters, and that you don't need to prepare in any way, shape or form for Maverick and Lance...what about the title fight? It's less than two weeks away! Let's get a jump on preparing for that!
FDCM: Oh. Right. No, it turns out that won't be necessary either.
Now, she's angry. This little blonde girl has been a "personal trainer" of sorts, constantly pushing the lazy and complacent FDCM to take this fight seriously. Wondering what's going on, she stomps her foot in exasperation.
FDCGirl: But WHY!? We were doing so good! We were training all the time! What was wrong with that?
FDCM: My dear girl...even though it is true that I've been working my ass off, and thus am now both cut and ripped like a ferocious Spartan...
After an awkward moment and a heavily "encouraging" grunt from FDCM, the three girls each pick a muscle to squeeze and force an appreciative "oooooh."
FDCM: ...as it stands now, I don't feel the need for any more training. Because Tito Capaci has conceded something to me, without even realizing it...
It's like this. What pattern do you notice in every major feud in wrestling? Yes, you book the "real" match for the Supercard or DVD Taping, but then those two guys fight indirectly for weeks beforehand! Look at Stevens/Felon. Hell, even me and Morrison did it, and if that guy can feud properly, anybody can.
But where is Tito Capaci? Where is the "boss?" Where is the UWC Champion!?
He's nowhere. Absolutely nowhere to be found. He throws peons and midcarders into my path while he "books matches" and "does administrative work." But I know the truth.
Tito Capaci is scared. He knows he's the weaker man, he knows he can't win, and he knows that one-on-one I'd destroy him. That's why he's biding his time, resting up and avoiding me while trying to tire me out with throwaway tag match after throwaway tag match. Just hoping that one of his good little employees will injure me or wear me down so that he has a shot in hell of defeating me at SuperMania.
Well, let him hide! Let him throw his endless minions at me. I'll strike every one of them down, just like I'll strike him down to take what is rightfully mine!
What does he think is going to happen? Does he think these two losers...hell, THREE losers counting my partner...can in any way slow me down in my METEORIC rise back to greatness? Not a chance!
Look at these guys...they go on Ebay to order a "Diamond Cutter neutralization device?" They think they're the Four Horsemen!? One of them thinks he's a superhero!? What a f**king joke! THIS is the best Capaci can dredge out of this pathetic territory to stand in my way? THIS is the big obstacle I have to leap over to get to SuperMania? Is it any wonder I went on vacation instead of training for this match?
You could get all the fancy technology you wanted. Go ahead. Make me "Flying Man!" Hell, make me just "Man," because I'm 10 times the man all of you idiots combined could ever hope to be! Hell, why stop there? Make me "M." Make me just one of the lines that forms the "M." Because even a tiny fraction of my sheer godliness is more than enough to send all of you peons packing! Then I'll ride off into the sunset, with my harem of valets over one shoulder...and hell, maybe I'll even put that Jayde bitch over the other! She looks like she'd fit right in with my operation here...or maybe I should say I'd fit in-
FDCGirl: Focus, FDCM!!
FDCM: Right. Sorry.
Look, the fact is, it really doesn't matter who Tito puts me up against. It could be anyone. It could be EVERYONE. If there's one thing you ladies know...it's that I can plow through countless people before finally tiring out myself. My endurance? Unmatched. My stamina? Untouchable. You ever seen that movie The Departed? That thing feels like a 15-minute after school special compared to the time it takes to finish me off. And this is no different.
So gimme the gauntlet. Let anyone who wants to try to stop me from riding on to glory and taking back what is mine! Because in the end, Capaci, Reck Maverick, Lance Erikson and all the others will do just what you ladies do...lie still. Grit their teeth. And take what's coming to them!
The three women wince. That one was a little uncomfortable.
FDCM: Oh. And one more thing.
All traces of a smile fading from his face, FDCM pulls off his sunglasses and glares at the blonde girl who's been questioning him all day.
After an uncomfortable moment, FDCM pours the remainder of his drink over the poor girl's head, then scoops her up, runs to the shoreline and throws her into ocean, where she lands with a splash, sputtering and coughing as she re-surfaces.
FDCM: Don't you ever question my methods again in your life!
As he walks back to the chair with the other two women, who dare not say a word, he looks down with a grimace at his now empty glass.
FDCM: ...and make me another drink!
Shockingly, the girl just takes it, silently getting up and walking shamefully back up the beach. As FDCM walks by some random beach-goer, the guy mumbles something about him being an asshole, causing FDCM to snap his head around furiously and stare him down.
FDCM: What are you gonna do about it!? I'm...the CHAMP!!!!
We leave the beach the same way we came to it...bright and sunny. But the "vibe" has changed dramatically. It's the age-old question of pro wrestling...how much abuse will an army of gorgeous, scantily clad women take?
Including our champion!!!
The camera finally pans over to reveal FDCM seated in what appears to be some sort of tribal throne, flanked by tiki torches, wearing swim trunks, a lei, sunglasses and (of course) his championship belt. On either side of him, a Diamond Cutter Girl in a string bikini fans him with a giant palm leaf, while a third rubs suntan lotion on his arms and chest.
With a contented sigh, FDCM leans back and takes a big drink of his Bahama Mama from an impossibly huge glass.
FDCM: Now THIS...is the life of a CHAMPION!!! Hahahahahaha!!!!
Giggling insanely, FDCM takes another huge swig of his drink. But after a moment, the girl rubbing lotion on him stops and gives a frustrated sigh.
FDCGirl: ...um. Boss?
FDCM gives a little jump, as if surprised there are other people around.
FDCM: ...yes?
FDCGirl: Look, not to step out of line or anything but...isn't there something more important we should be doing?
FDCM raises his eyebrows and leers at the girl through his shades, a mischevious smile crossing his face.
FDCM: Hey, if you needed a little somethin' somethin' you just had to say so! But here, in front of all the-
FDCGirl: Not that!!!! I'm talking about your wrestling! You have a match in two days! Shouldn't we, you know...practice or strategize or at least fly back to the United States for God's sake!?
FDCM: Oh, indeed. Yeah...I can see where you're coming from. But I'm afraid that won't really be necessary.
FDCGirl: Well why not!?
With a knowing smile, FDCM gets up out of his throne and, taking the girl by the hand, begins walking down the beach with her. Without a word, the other two follow and continue fanning him.
FDCM: You see, No. 45...all that matters to me is winning the undisputed POW World Championship at SuperMania. A match I'm already booked in.
And I can tell you without even looking at the card exactly what kind of match I'm in tomorrow. It'll be a throwaway tag bout with three guys I'm not even remotely involved with, to stall and keep me around until it's time to fight for the title.
And no matter what happens in this match, I still get to wrestle Capaci and I'm still going to beat his ass. So really, it may not sound like a "great competitor" but...I could really give two shits about this week's match. It's just not a priority to me.
FDCGirl: But FDCM...
FDCM: Look. I know you've looked at the matches already. Tell me, who am I wrestling?
FDCGirl: Well, it's you and Mr. Showtime vs. Reck Maverick and Lance Erikson...
FDCM: You see!? Exactly what I said! In the long run, is it really going to matter if me and my on-again, off-again-for-no-reason tag team partner lose to a bodybuilder and a Power Ranger? Does that in any way affect my holy quest to become the one, single, undisputed World Champion of this sport?
FDCGirl: Well, I guess not...
FDCM: Good! Then let's go sit back down and you can do my back. This sun is frying me.
They turn to go back to the chair, but the insistent valet stops again.
FDCGirl: OK, but wait.
FDCM stops and turns, now clearly a little aggravated.
FDCM: ....yes?
FDCGirl: Even if we somehow assume that not every match matters, and that you don't need to prepare in any way, shape or form for Maverick and Lance...what about the title fight? It's less than two weeks away! Let's get a jump on preparing for that!
FDCM: Oh. Right. No, it turns out that won't be necessary either.
Now, she's angry. This little blonde girl has been a "personal trainer" of sorts, constantly pushing the lazy and complacent FDCM to take this fight seriously. Wondering what's going on, she stomps her foot in exasperation.
FDCGirl: But WHY!? We were doing so good! We were training all the time! What was wrong with that?
FDCM: My dear girl...even though it is true that I've been working my ass off, and thus am now both cut and ripped like a ferocious Spartan...
After an awkward moment and a heavily "encouraging" grunt from FDCM, the three girls each pick a muscle to squeeze and force an appreciative "oooooh."
FDCM: ...as it stands now, I don't feel the need for any more training. Because Tito Capaci has conceded something to me, without even realizing it...
It's like this. What pattern do you notice in every major feud in wrestling? Yes, you book the "real" match for the Supercard or DVD Taping, but then those two guys fight indirectly for weeks beforehand! Look at Stevens/Felon. Hell, even me and Morrison did it, and if that guy can feud properly, anybody can.
But where is Tito Capaci? Where is the "boss?" Where is the UWC Champion!?
He's nowhere. Absolutely nowhere to be found. He throws peons and midcarders into my path while he "books matches" and "does administrative work." But I know the truth.
Tito Capaci is scared. He knows he's the weaker man, he knows he can't win, and he knows that one-on-one I'd destroy him. That's why he's biding his time, resting up and avoiding me while trying to tire me out with throwaway tag match after throwaway tag match. Just hoping that one of his good little employees will injure me or wear me down so that he has a shot in hell of defeating me at SuperMania.
Well, let him hide! Let him throw his endless minions at me. I'll strike every one of them down, just like I'll strike him down to take what is rightfully mine!
What does he think is going to happen? Does he think these two losers...hell, THREE losers counting my partner...can in any way slow me down in my METEORIC rise back to greatness? Not a chance!
Look at these guys...they go on Ebay to order a "Diamond Cutter neutralization device?" They think they're the Four Horsemen!? One of them thinks he's a superhero!? What a f**king joke! THIS is the best Capaci can dredge out of this pathetic territory to stand in my way? THIS is the big obstacle I have to leap over to get to SuperMania? Is it any wonder I went on vacation instead of training for this match?
You could get all the fancy technology you wanted. Go ahead. Make me "Flying Man!" Hell, make me just "Man," because I'm 10 times the man all of you idiots combined could ever hope to be! Hell, why stop there? Make me "M." Make me just one of the lines that forms the "M." Because even a tiny fraction of my sheer godliness is more than enough to send all of you peons packing! Then I'll ride off into the sunset, with my harem of valets over one shoulder...and hell, maybe I'll even put that Jayde bitch over the other! She looks like she'd fit right in with my operation here...or maybe I should say I'd fit in-
FDCGirl: Focus, FDCM!!
FDCM: Right. Sorry.
Look, the fact is, it really doesn't matter who Tito puts me up against. It could be anyone. It could be EVERYONE. If there's one thing you ladies know...it's that I can plow through countless people before finally tiring out myself. My endurance? Unmatched. My stamina? Untouchable. You ever seen that movie The Departed? That thing feels like a 15-minute after school special compared to the time it takes to finish me off. And this is no different.
So gimme the gauntlet. Let anyone who wants to try to stop me from riding on to glory and taking back what is mine! Because in the end, Capaci, Reck Maverick, Lance Erikson and all the others will do just what you ladies do...lie still. Grit their teeth. And take what's coming to them!
The three women wince. That one was a little uncomfortable.
FDCM: Oh. And one more thing.
All traces of a smile fading from his face, FDCM pulls off his sunglasses and glares at the blonde girl who's been questioning him all day.
After an uncomfortable moment, FDCM pours the remainder of his drink over the poor girl's head, then scoops her up, runs to the shoreline and throws her into ocean, where she lands with a splash, sputtering and coughing as she re-surfaces.
FDCM: Don't you ever question my methods again in your life!
As he walks back to the chair with the other two women, who dare not say a word, he looks down with a grimace at his now empty glass.
FDCM: ...and make me another drink!
Shockingly, the girl just takes it, silently getting up and walking shamefully back up the beach. As FDCM walks by some random beach-goer, the guy mumbles something about him being an asshole, causing FDCM to snap his head around furiously and stare him down.
FDCM: What are you gonna do about it!? I'm...the CHAMP!!!!
We leave the beach the same way we came to it...bright and sunny. But the "vibe" has changed dramatically. It's the age-old question of pro wrestling...how much abuse will an army of gorgeous, scantily clad women take?