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| Date of RP: 01/27/03 Current Record: 7/0/3 Current Accomplishments: IWF Bad-Ass Champion |
~~It's early morning through the
curtains...dull, off-white curtains that look into a small office.
The light glints off of a few bottles of beer sitting on the desk
over the shoulder of Krev MacDougan, a smile siretched wide across his
face. Krev drinks from one of the bottles, droplets of beer
dribbling down over his chin and onto his "MacDougan's Wrestling School"
t-shirt. Mike sits across from him, and reaches for the other
bottle. His muslces flex under his "I am becoming" shirt.
Behind Mike we can see O'Brian, Mikes young manager, decked out in
a collarless black button-down shirt and a pair of black khakki pants.
His hair is spiked up, and the sunlight that betrayed the dawn
also glints off of the silver spiked chain around his neck. He's
smiling, ear-to-ear in a matter-of-fact manner. He's certainly
looking the part of suave manager...right down to the silver rings
lining his fingers.~~ O'BRIAN: HALF of the shares?! ~~Krev nods to O'Brian, taking another swig of beer. Mike nods, cracking his knuckles, deep in thought.~~ KMD: Yeah...hell, Mike would have got all of the shares when I died anyway, but this is a sort of initiative for him...if he can produce, that is. I have no doubts in my mind that he can, though. It'll be something for some good backing...MacDougan Entertainment is already worth $15 Million...not a huge price, but something to start out with...Mike knows as well as I do that the MacDougan name is a name in wrestling that should be at the top of all of the lists...its in the genes, and key for our survival. To be a MacDougan is to dominate the world around them. ~~Mike looks up at Krev, still deep in thought. Absent-mindedly he nods, taking a long swig from his beer. O'Brian stands up and begins to pace around the room, wrenching his hands.~~ O'BRIAN: And all we have to do is get gold? KMD: Mike has to get gold. You have to make sure he gets there. O'BRIAN: Yeah, yeah...of course. Magic, this is great because- ~~Mike holds up his hand, quieting O'Brian. He puts his beer back down onto the desk and looks at KMD.~~ KMD: ...because? ~~Mike lets a small smile cross his face as he leans back in the chair.~~ O'BRIAN: ...because that might be in the future. KMD: "Might be" in the future? MAGIC: No, no...it will be in the future. I have a contendorship spot opened up to me...all I have to do is go through Ricey420 and I have the #3 TV Title contendor spot. It's a small spot....it's low on the totem pole, but it is something. I've got to start somewhere...and this is good enough. It's nothing like you did- ~~Krev nods, taking a swig of his beer.~~ KMD: What I did in the ASW was a freak occurance...it was only 3 weeks before I was Canadian Champ, and it was a matter of a few more before I would have been their Champion...but don't think about that. It didn't happen because I left...it's in the past. Focus on what you're doing now. ~~Mike sighs as he looks up at KMD.~~ MAGIC: It didn't happen because I went all whacko and went looking for mom even though I knew she was dead. I drew you away from the ASW...you could have been their champion, but you didn't because of me. It was my fault- ~~Krev quiets Mike by holding up his hand.~~ KMD: It wasn't your fault, and don't think that. All I knew was that you could have been dead...I am your father, it is/was my place to find you. Wrestling can go take a heaping steamer on itself for all I cared if you were in trouble. Get that straight now...family is more important than titles. Never forget that. ~~Mike nods.~~ MAGIC: Alright. But you were almost there- KMD: And you will too. It's in your blood...greatness is your destiny. Take that spot from...what the hell was his name? MAGIC: Ricey420. KMD: What the bloody hell does that mean? Is he some sort of pothead? Jesus, this should be easy for you...he probably wouldn't even know what the hell was going on,...or he would let all his attention get drawn by all the bright lights and shiny things. Damn long-hairs... ~~Mike looks at his long hair, and then back at KMD. He shakes his head, letting it pass.~~ MAGIC: Anyway, I have the match on Wednesday, so I won't be able to watch you stomp Pete Ebdon for the IWF Championship. I'm worried that he might try to cheat you out of the title you deserve- ~~Krev shrugs his shoulders.~~ KMD: Don't be, I'm not. Worries about Ebdon are no longer an issue for me...if I win, I win. If I lose, I lose...whats really important right now is the fed. You stay focused on your own fed and your own match...thinking about my match won't help you in any way with your own. ~~Mike nods, taking a swig of beer.~~ MAGIC: Good point. I don't think I should have any trouble, though...I've seen how he works. He's a bigger dude...Scottish too. O'BRIAN: Magic, you guys, you and your father, are Scottish, right? MAGIC: We're American. Yeah, we're Scottish in origin, but born and raised in America. ~~Krev chuckles.~~ KMD: I was born in Scotland, actually. Moved here when I was but a young lad. Back in '66. I was...3...back then. MAGIC: I'm American, anyway. The only thing we share is a homeland...but that is not an issue. It isn't like we share blood. O'BRIAN: You might- MAGIC: I seriosly doubt that, O'Brian. Do you know how many people live in Scotland? O'BRIAN: No. MAGIC: Yeah, well, there is most definately more than one family. Regardless, I have one man to go through before I'm on my way up...after this first guy, there ain't nothin stopping me. The only way up for Simply Magic is up. KMD: "Isn't anything." ~~Mike looks at KMD as O'Brian sits back down and reaches for a bottle of beer beside the couch on the floor.~~ MAGIC: What? KMD: "Isn't anything" instead of "ain't nothin". Thats a double-negative- MAGIC: You sound like Ebdon, Dad. Stop hanging around him. ~~Krev grins.~~ KMD: Sorry...I just don't understand the anger of this guy...it's like he's pissed off at the world or something. MAGIC: As long as his pansy-ass doesn't rub off on you, you should be good...if that happened, I'd have to find you and kick your ass. ~~They all laugh as the screen fades to black.~~ ~~As the camera fades back in, we find ourselves on an empty street late at night. There doesn't seem to be a car around for miles, as the only sounds we hear are those of the night...the occassional gust of wind across the frozen streets, a drift of snow being tossed carelessly around. The camera settles on the figure of KMD, a case in hand and walking up the street, his leather motorcycle jacket zipped up nearly to his chin, combatting the cold.~~ KMD: Damn it... ~~Krev shivers, and pulls the knit cap down over his head. He looks at the camera, just noticiing it.~~ KMD: What the hell is with this weather? Just the other day it was damn near 5F...that's DAMN cold. ~~KMD squints his face as another gust of wind plays with the microphone, causing a slight bit of static.~~ KMD: But I don't want to say anything that might anger Ebby, do I? I seriously don't know what the hell is wrong with this guy...every damn thing I say he thinks its some sort of slam against him. Who the [CENSORED] pissed in his Cheerios? Does this guy seriously think that I'm "afraid" of him because what he has done to me? Why the bloody piss [CENSORED] should I care? Jesus...can't this guy see I don't feel pain? If I'm limping, and I assure you I'm not, then my leg must be damn near off...see, Ebby, when I was in the service, back in the Central-American conflicts of the '80s, and I probably shouldn't even be telling you...then again, you'll just say you don't care, so I may as well blab away. Hell, you're good at it, and it gives you a paycheck- ~~Krev distorts his face and talks with a "retarded" British accent, jutting out his top front teeth.~~ KMD: Derrrr....You're old, old man! Derrr....tea time. Derrr... ~~He un-distorts his face.~~ KMD: Yeah, [CENSORED] you. I'm sick of this shit. When I was in those conflicts, there was a little toxic agent called nerve gas. It destroyed most all of my nerves. See, sonny boy, I can't feel pain. Literally. Do your [CENSORED]ing homework, putz. I was going into this match with even the slightest hint of respect for you, but after that slew of verbal diarhea that I heard coming from your pompous ass, I don't know what to think anymore. Yeah, it pisses me the [CENSORED] off that I have to degrade myself to this, but if thats what you want, thats what you get. ~~Krev looks around as he stops. He sets down the case and opens a bottle with an opener on his keys. He tosses it into a nearby trashcan and takes a swig.~~ KMD: Where the [CENSORED] do you get off telling me you don't care about my story? Who the [CENSORED] do you think you are? Did you even listen to me, or did your inbred British ass miss that little statement...you know, the one where I said that I was telling the story for the benifit of those who you confused the [CENSORED] out of...clean the shit out of your ears, son, and listen to what the piss I'm saying, rather than just nodding your head at the fact that I'm talking. If you don't like it, don't watch it and go [CENSORED] yourself. You seem good at that. ~~Krev takes another swig, and then sets the bottle in the snow. He rubs his hands together.~~ KMD: And, yeah, you know what? True champion or not, I'm going to run your ass up the damn flag pole and make you kiss the American flag before I pin you...even if I don't get to fight you. If you don't like my country that much, then just get the [CENSORED] out. You don't have to stay here, no one is going to be upset if you leave...but apparently you need to be here, don't you? If you don't, then just leave...I've heard more bitching and complaining that made at least some semblance of sense from those damn causeheads protesting the war. I'm not for it...hell, I'm normally a peaceful person outside the ring...but you seem to bring out the worst in people, don't you? You waltz into my fed, telling me that you're going to go through me, to take the title that belongs to me. Yeah? Try it, shitstain...fear or not, you're mine in a couple days. ~~KMD sighs as he takes another swig from his bottle.~~ KMD: Am I trying to intimidate you? [CENSORED] that. If I was trying to intimidate you, you'd know I was trying to intimidate you, dillweed. I came out with nothing but respect...yeah, you tore up my boy Windsor. Yeah, you went the way of the jackass and attacked me without provocation. Yeah, you're a [CENSORED] idiot who I don't care one way or the other if you ever do make your seven-billionth title reign. I was cleaning up spots of nose expulsion tougher than you from mat rings before you were even a twinkle in your mother's-father's/brother's-sister's eye, and I'll be damned if I let someone come in here and act like a [CENSORED]ing idiot without facing the reprocussions. You slammed my family, and you slammed me. I can see slamming me...it's your damn job. But you brought my son into it... ~~KMD takes another swig from his bottle.~~ KMD: And I will say it again. I fear for your safety from him. He isn't going to beat your ass, though, is he? It appears he is moving along quite nicely in the ASW, and he has a match that night. I'm not sending my son on you, you piece of shit...I'm sending myself after you. That is more dangerous than you could ever imagine. ~~Krev chugs the rest of the beer and tosses the empty bottle into the garbage can. He picks up the pack and continues to walk, opening another bottle.~~ KMD: And, yes I drink a lot of damn beer, and yes I'm comfortable with that. Maybe when this whole thing is over, I'll do you one more favor and take your sorry ass out drinking. Loosening up a bit probably wouldn't hurt. It'll keep your head from exploding...what with all that hot air in there. Do I really need to explain myself to you? You'll say no...if thats the case, I don't know why we're doing this little promo tag stint...why don't we just get this thing over with? This is just a bunch of masturbatory bullshit...I'm sick of talking, and I'm sick of putting up with your [CENSORED] attitude about it. I'd love to thwap your sorry ass ahead of time...it'll save the world yet another headache that is inclusive of Ebdon promos. But if I did that, what would be the point of MacDougan Entertainment? ~~Krev takes a swig of beer while kicking through a snowdrift.~~ KMD: What I own is what I own. I don't own shit now, though. I have me, and I have MacDougan Entertainment...maybe a few shares of IWF. Do you really think that by owning something I'd bolster my own opinion of myself? Jesus...I don't list assets as skills, asshead. I do what I do to survive, not make a spectacle of myself. I beat the living snot out of people, and I'm damn good at it...those are skills. I have the slightest inkling that you do the same, right? ~~Krev turns up a walkway sprinkled with clean, wet spots...the snow covered up the rest of the old salt that was there to keep it clear of ice.~~ KMD: Yeah, you're definately the guy who beat the shit out of pretty much everybody. I'll give you props there, Britty. But there is one man you have yet to beat, and that man is standing right here freezing his ass off in the cold. This is the only man you need worry about...Anti-Trust...hell, they'll probably just spade and neuter you for talking shit about them...your problem, not mine. Don't heed my words, don't give a shit about what I say. One too many men have already done that. Do you know where they are? ~~Swig. Up the steps.~~ KMD: THEY'RE [CENSORED]ING RETIRED. ~~Krev smiles.~~ KMD: No one who took me lightly exists in the world of professional wrestling anymore...that one bad move cost them their job. Yeah, chalk Sensation up on that list...he was a good man, and always was a good man, but he did the dumb thing and dismissed me as being old and out of my league. Chalk him up there with Bryan Tann, Sonny Lightning, blah, blah, blah...I'm not even going to continue, because, chances are, you don't care. Why waste your precious time with minor details, huh? You're a mover and a shaker, and, apparently in your own deluded little world, the next IWF Heavyweight Champion. Can't test the champion, can I? I hate to repeat myself, but yeah, go [CENSORED] yourself. ~~Krev takes a long swig of his beer as he unlocks the door.~~ KMD: Details, details, details. I look into your eyes and feel true fear. Shit, Ebdon, if I woke up in the morning without my dick, that would be true fear. If I got stuck on a deserted isle with only old Queen Lizzy 2, that would be true fear. If I woke up and found that Ebdon was the IWF Heavyweight Champion- ~~Krev pauses as he turns back from the door and smiles at the camera.~~ KMD: That would not be true fear...that would be me still dreaming. I'd wake up and find it resting happily on my trophy wall. Listen, Ebdon, even if nothing else sinks into your dense head, you will not be the IWF Champion, and if you do somehow weasel your way into it, like you did with the Imperial Championship, I'm going to make your life a living hell. ~~KMD pushes the door open and enters. He pauses and turns back around.~~ KMD: And spare me another wheelchair comment. That shit is getting pretty lame and redundant...if you want to see one so much, why don't I help you out a bit and find a nice one that'll hold your egocentric and freshly crippled ass? I'm sure I, as a wrinkled, old, and decrepit geezer, can help you out in that department. Have a [CENSORED]ing nice day, chap. ~~He slams the door behind him, the glass of the door's window rattling on it's wooden frame. We fade to black as we can hear loud, drunken singing in the background...~~ KMD [singing]: God save the Queen
the fascist regime, they made you a moron a potential H-bomb. God save the Queen she ain't no human being. There is no future in England's dreaming Don't be told what you want Don't be told what you need. There's no future there's no future there's no future for you... |
