Post by hk on May 21, 2007 14:16:25 GMT -6
(Note: My roleplays are told in first-person-view, obviously. Scott is simply providing commentary while showing the video to the POW people. I just wanted to make this as realistic as possible.)
Scott Lanegan: “Hey, what are you doing here!?”
A camera lackey showed up at my doorstep. Actually, it was the same one as last time. The top of his head had a white bandage wrapped around. I sighed and let him in.
Scott Lanegan: “What is it?”
Camera Lackey (aka Brown Nose): “Your application to POW was accepted, immediately, they’ve booked you to be in a show…at New Hampshire. Derry, to be exact.”
My jaw dropped for a second but I quickly regained myself.
Scott Lanegan: “Are you kidding me? How the hell am I suppose to get there? I barely have enough money to even flush my own damn toilet!”
Camera Lackey (aka Sweat Face): “Well, the company set you up with a vehicle of transportation to head there. It’s just a block away.”
Scott Lanegan: “Then let’s go get it!”
We walked out of the small house, the wooden door cranking behind us. Outside was an oddly beautiful day in Kansas City. Normally there’d be birds chirping, lawnmowers humming along and kids playing. But in this zone, was much different. Those background effects were replaced with metal clunking, glass breaking and various gunshots.
Scott Lanegan: “So how’s your head pal?”
The camera lackey simply sighed as we walked along. It seemed that our designation was a small factory parking lot, with the abandon building next to it. Yet a lone car sat at the far edge of the lot. I scratched the back of my head.
Scott Lanegan: “Is that a 1972 Plymouth Barracuda?”
The orange car, in all of its glory, sat there. Yet, it wasn’t a collector’s item by any standards. The windows seemed slightly cracked, the orange paint had heavy rust, a hubcap was missing, the front license plate was half covered in mud, the trunk had a dent planted on it and the front bumper had many scratches.
Scott Lanegan: “Better than nothing right?”
Luckily for me, I had a few extra blocks of cash for gas.
Scott Lanegan: “I swear man, these gas prices are ridiculous! Damn industry cob nobblers just want to take our cash and then blame it on someone else. Seriously-"
Once again, I had a sudden outburst and a long speech, so I cut it out.
After prying the rusted doors open, it took a few tries to rev up the engine. The car roared like thunder. I could no longer hear the gunshots, metal slamming and other industrial noises. It was only the car.
Scott Lanegan: “Alright buddy, so this place is in Derry?”
Looking over at the passenger side, camera lackey attempted to get the seat belt out, yet it wouldn’t budge.
Scott Lanegan: “Hold up there.”
I leaned over and yanked at the belt. The entire plastic reel at the end snapped off. [/color]
Scott Lanegan: “Well shit, don’t worry about it. Not like I’ll crash us.”
I chuckled at the thought and started to accelerate. We drove around the industrial zone, yet heavy traffic backed us up.
Scott Lanegan: “So, uhh, what’s your name? Brian?”
Camera Lackey (aka No Name): “Actually it’s Walt-“
Scott Lanegan: “Whatever Walt. So who’s in my debut match?”
Walt (aka Bitch Nutz): “Damian Blackmoon, Goumon, Xavier Blackstone, and Reggie Rivid.”
I looked over at him with a confused look on my face.
Walt: “It’s a battle royal.”
Scott Lanegan: “So we’re all in the ring at the same time?”
Walt: “…yes.”
Scott Lanegan: “Well from what I’ve heard, all of us are recently debuting here. We got a Texan farmer, a hot-headed explosive device, another masked generic wrestler and a retired old guy that should be pissing in cups by now.”
Walt: “You don’t know that Scott, these guys may have talent-“
Scott Lanegan: “What’s wrong with you dude? Sure, I’m new to this wrestling thing, but I know how to punch people in the f**king face man, among other things. If I have to fight my way to the top, then so be it. Everyone starts somewhere right? Just look at your current employee status.”
I laughed while Walt simply shook his head. It took a few hours to find our way out of Kansas City, but eventually, we did. Neither of us knew the outskirts of the state of Missouri. Only directions I followed were simply from the road signs. If it said east, then so be it.
Scott Lanegan: “These towns sure are far and in between.”
Passing up the cities of Independence and Blue Springs, it wasn’t until 11 PM that we found ourselves only halfway through the state. It was at a large lake, with the town named Lake Lafayette. It was a quiet neighborhood, with the surrounding lake being a nice scenery.
Scott Lanegan: “Nothing can go possibly wrong here.”
We pulled off the highway to stop for food, but suddenly I heard a siren behind me. Looking in the mirror a cop car came pulling up behind us.
Walt: “Well, you were doing 75…”
A large cop dude, with shades covering his eyes and his black outfit sticking out, strutted over to the driver side.
Scott Lanegan: “Why does he have shades on at night…?”
He leaned over the window.
Big Scary Cop Guy: “Did you know you were speeding?”
Scott Lanegan: “Yes, yes I did.”
Big Scary Cop Guy: “You were going 75 in a 65 zone. Have you been drinking tonight?”
Scott Lanegan: “Nah, I don’t do that.”
Big Scary Cop Guy: “Well, you two seem to be in a hurry. I won’t give you any fines this time around, but watch the signs next time. Speeding can cause a crash and many injuries can be introduced. This is a warning, got it?”
Scott Lanegan: “Thanks officer.”
Just as he was about to leave, he glanced over at Walt with a grin on his face.
Mr. Badass: “You do know that the safety belt law is in effect here in Missouri, right?”
Remembering that the belt broke off, I hung my head. Walt gulped. The cop reached inside his pocket for something.
Mr. Badass: “And since that’s breaking the law…”
To be continued. Hopefully. Maybe. We’ll see.
Scott Lanegan: “Hey, what are you doing here!?”
A camera lackey showed up at my doorstep. Actually, it was the same one as last time. The top of his head had a white bandage wrapped around. I sighed and let him in.
Scott Lanegan: “What is it?”
Camera Lackey (aka Brown Nose): “Your application to POW was accepted, immediately, they’ve booked you to be in a show…at New Hampshire. Derry, to be exact.”
My jaw dropped for a second but I quickly regained myself.
Scott Lanegan: “Are you kidding me? How the hell am I suppose to get there? I barely have enough money to even flush my own damn toilet!”
Camera Lackey (aka Sweat Face): “Well, the company set you up with a vehicle of transportation to head there. It’s just a block away.”
Scott Lanegan: “Then let’s go get it!”
We walked out of the small house, the wooden door cranking behind us. Outside was an oddly beautiful day in Kansas City. Normally there’d be birds chirping, lawnmowers humming along and kids playing. But in this zone, was much different. Those background effects were replaced with metal clunking, glass breaking and various gunshots.
Scott Lanegan: “So how’s your head pal?”
The camera lackey simply sighed as we walked along. It seemed that our designation was a small factory parking lot, with the abandon building next to it. Yet a lone car sat at the far edge of the lot. I scratched the back of my head.
Scott Lanegan: “Is that a 1972 Plymouth Barracuda?”
The orange car, in all of its glory, sat there. Yet, it wasn’t a collector’s item by any standards. The windows seemed slightly cracked, the orange paint had heavy rust, a hubcap was missing, the front license plate was half covered in mud, the trunk had a dent planted on it and the front bumper had many scratches.
Scott Lanegan: “Better than nothing right?”
Luckily for me, I had a few extra blocks of cash for gas.
Scott Lanegan: “I swear man, these gas prices are ridiculous! Damn industry cob nobblers just want to take our cash and then blame it on someone else. Seriously-"
Once again, I had a sudden outburst and a long speech, so I cut it out.
After prying the rusted doors open, it took a few tries to rev up the engine. The car roared like thunder. I could no longer hear the gunshots, metal slamming and other industrial noises. It was only the car.
Scott Lanegan: “Alright buddy, so this place is in Derry?”
Looking over at the passenger side, camera lackey attempted to get the seat belt out, yet it wouldn’t budge.
Scott Lanegan: “Hold up there.”
I leaned over and yanked at the belt. The entire plastic reel at the end snapped off. [/color]
Scott Lanegan: “Well shit, don’t worry about it. Not like I’ll crash us.”
I chuckled at the thought and started to accelerate. We drove around the industrial zone, yet heavy traffic backed us up.
Scott Lanegan: “So, uhh, what’s your name? Brian?”
Camera Lackey (aka No Name): “Actually it’s Walt-“
Scott Lanegan: “Whatever Walt. So who’s in my debut match?”
Walt (aka Bitch Nutz): “Damian Blackmoon, Goumon, Xavier Blackstone, and Reggie Rivid.”
I looked over at him with a confused look on my face.
Walt: “It’s a battle royal.”
Scott Lanegan: “So we’re all in the ring at the same time?”
Walt: “…yes.”
Scott Lanegan: “Well from what I’ve heard, all of us are recently debuting here. We got a Texan farmer, a hot-headed explosive device, another masked generic wrestler and a retired old guy that should be pissing in cups by now.”
Walt: “You don’t know that Scott, these guys may have talent-“
Scott Lanegan: “What’s wrong with you dude? Sure, I’m new to this wrestling thing, but I know how to punch people in the f**king face man, among other things. If I have to fight my way to the top, then so be it. Everyone starts somewhere right? Just look at your current employee status.”
I laughed while Walt simply shook his head. It took a few hours to find our way out of Kansas City, but eventually, we did. Neither of us knew the outskirts of the state of Missouri. Only directions I followed were simply from the road signs. If it said east, then so be it.
Scott Lanegan: “These towns sure are far and in between.”
Passing up the cities of Independence and Blue Springs, it wasn’t until 11 PM that we found ourselves only halfway through the state. It was at a large lake, with the town named Lake Lafayette. It was a quiet neighborhood, with the surrounding lake being a nice scenery.
Scott Lanegan: “Nothing can go possibly wrong here.”
We pulled off the highway to stop for food, but suddenly I heard a siren behind me. Looking in the mirror a cop car came pulling up behind us.
Walt: “Well, you were doing 75…”
A large cop dude, with shades covering his eyes and his black outfit sticking out, strutted over to the driver side.
Scott Lanegan: “Why does he have shades on at night…?”
He leaned over the window.
Big Scary Cop Guy: “Did you know you were speeding?”
Scott Lanegan: “Yes, yes I did.”
Big Scary Cop Guy: “You were going 75 in a 65 zone. Have you been drinking tonight?”
Scott Lanegan: “Nah, I don’t do that.”
Big Scary Cop Guy: “Well, you two seem to be in a hurry. I won’t give you any fines this time around, but watch the signs next time. Speeding can cause a crash and many injuries can be introduced. This is a warning, got it?”
Scott Lanegan: “Thanks officer.”
Just as he was about to leave, he glanced over at Walt with a grin on his face.
Mr. Badass: “You do know that the safety belt law is in effect here in Missouri, right?”
Remembering that the belt broke off, I hung my head. Walt gulped. The cop reached inside his pocket for something.
Mr. Badass: “And since that’s breaking the law…”
To be continued. Hopefully. Maybe. We’ll see.