| Dream Weavers and Mail-Order Brides!; C2V RP 1 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jun 28 2008, 03:01 PM (326 Views) | |
| Bond | Jun 28 2008, 03:01 PM Post #1 |
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Guys, sorry for the lack of coloring. I just got a call to go into work early, so I'll recode it later today after I get home. Hope it's good. Enjoyed the week guys. Good luck to all. -Bond ---------------------- [The scene opens up in the hotel room at the Sheraton Centre in Toronto. Up on about the thirteenth floor, which was way too high for Chris Bond, in 13C, he sits. He sits staring out into the city. As long as he didn’t stand by it, he didn’t mind peering out the damn thing. For being such a successful man, self-made millionaire; sVo wrestling sensation; courting the one and only Paige Johnson; he had one of the lamest phobias in the damned world. But back to what he was doing. The city was dead. The only lights on were those who were awake at this ungodly hour. Three A.M. Damn, he’s got some sleeping issues.] Chris Bond: “You know there is a lot of talk this week about dreams. In some people their dreams are their subconscious reality. In Night’s case… he uses his dreams to cope with real world situations. He uses his dreams as a method to cope. It allows him to deal with his issues… and that’s a good thing. He saves about three-hundred and fifty bucks an hour… haha. But Night’s biggest problem... all he does is dream. Eventually, he has to wake up and smell the coffee. His dreaming led to his climactic confrontation with Isaac White. He was too busy dreaming to see the signs. Isaac White was able to torment him because Night allowed him too. Instead of focusing on a problem and finding a solution in a quick and easy manner, you have a guy like Night, sleeping an entire month away… only to think he got the job done. But wait, a personal vendetta has grown. Instead of being content with a win… he decides to go back for some more. Night decides that he’s going to take out all of his frustrations… all of his misfortunes… and use that to beat the crap out of Isaac White. So it leads to an epic showdown, Night V. Isaac White, part deux, and what happens? The dark Night here wins. He steals the International Title from Isaac White, and banishes him. Night managed to banish his foe. But wait. You know what. I was in two matches that night, too. And although I didn’t win both, I sure as hell put an end to the one and only Kelly Flawless. Leading up to that event, it seemed like neither of our opponents really put in an effort—as if they disappeared, perhaps they were stuck in dreamland, I’m not sure. But Night… It’s time for a wake-up call. Get the fuck outta bed and start living your life. If you don’t, it’s gonna pass you by, and ultimately, it’s the reason I’m walking out of Countdown to Violence as the UNDISPUTED International Champion.” [His eyes are dry. Instead of blinking during that little diatribe, the bastard was too busy staring. His fingers digging into the chair.] Chris Bond: “And the Reverend? Well. We’ll see about him. He’s still to answer my one major question. The most important, life altering question anyone could ever muster. If God stubs his toe, what does he say? God Dammit. Or… Me Dammit? Its questions like these that can alter the very universe. But seriously. Preacher Man… bring your A game. I’ll bring mine. We’ll pack a picnic basket and enjoy a nice lunch under the large elm up at the park down the road. Then, we’ll rendezvous and make sweet love… whoa, whoa, whoa. Sorry, I was reading a book by Mary Higgins Clark… her literature is so powerful. The main character is a Reverend. Reverend Samuel Tivens. He’s a hunky man with a six pack. His love belongs to a woman, Valencia Bagwell, the wife of a millionaire. He’s always on flights away to Iran and Cambodia. He leaves her alone all the time. That is where she found God... and the Reverend all night long. They get together. They knock boots. They desecrate the Church. And when her husband finds out. He’s angry. He beats her. The Reverend stands up for her, and ultimately saves her life… but killing her husband in the process, and getting himself disband from the Church. Good stuff.” [Suddenly there is a knock at the door. Bond looks at his watch.] Chris Bond: “I hope that’s not God here to kick me in my sack for reading Mary Higgins Clark!” [Bond gets up and walks to the door. Peering through the peephole, he sees a delivery man with a large wooden crate. He opens the door.] Chris Bond: “Yes?” Delivery Man: “Sorry to wake you sir, urgent delivery. Sign here.” [Chris Bond raises an eyebrow.] Chris Bond: “What is this?” Delivery Man: “Eugenia.” [Bond scratches his head.] Chris Bond: “What’s a Eugenia?” [Bond is handed the clipboard and signs his John Hancock.] Delivery Man: “Your problem now.” Chris Bond: “I didn’t order any Eugenia! Hey buddy! Get back here and take this box!” [The delivery man walks away. Bond looks down the corridor. Suddenly, there is a knock. Bond looks the box over, apparently, there is a sign that says “Pull here.” He does so, and the sides of the box fall to the ground. Standing there in Daisy Duke shorts, a tied button up Plaid shirt, and blonde hair in pig tails is one of the most beautiful women anyone had ever seen. Then she opens her mouth.] Woman: “HI! I’m Eugenia Ambrose Louise! HEHE!” [Bond suddenly grabs at his ears. The voice is ear-drum popping, milk curdling. It’s like a cat getting run over on top of a baby screaming. It’s horrible. He quickly places a finger over her mouth.] Chris Bond: “Shhh! Don’t speak.” [She goes to talk a bit more, but he replaces the finger.] Chris Bond: “Silence is golden.” [Bond notices a tag sticking off her body. He grabs it and begins to read.] Chris Bond: “Hi! I’m the mail-order bride you just ordered! There is one simple rule. No sex. If you have sex with her, that’s prostitution. You basically just paid for sex. I’m not getting sued. So, enjoy your new wife! Any questions or concerns call 1-800-Wife Me.” [Bond scratches his head. He didn’t order any wife. He looks at his watch again. He pulls her into the room and slams the door.] Chris Bond: “Eugenia, we’ll straighten this mess out later this morning. You need some sleep. Take the bed, I’ll take the sofa.” [Then, she opens her mouth again.] Eugenia: “But you’re my new husband! We’s supposed to sleep in the same bed!” [His eyes bulge.] Chris Bond: “I didn’t order you. You sleep over there, I’ll figure this out and make sure you go the right person.” [She shrugs and falls to the bed and sleeps immediately. He smiles.] Chris Bond: “Jesus Fuckin’ Christ she’s annoying. Hot… but annoying. I can’t let Paige find out about this, I finally got it smoothed over with her about that damn Milkshake song. I’ll figure this out in the morning, and all will be good. Tomorrow I walk away the International Champion! Righteous!” [The scene slowly fades to white as Bond makes his way over the sofa. He pulls the blanket off and lies down. His eyes soon begin to grow heavy. He then drifts off into dreamland.] Edited by Bond, Jun 28 2008, 05:16 PM.
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12:26 AM Jul 11