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Reality Bites! SD 33; ...inner monologue...
Topic Started: Jul 20 2008, 01:50 PM (106 Views)
Bond
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inner monologue: “you know… it was about two days into our little abduction that i decided that the only way out of there with our sanity… and the only way to seek thy vengeance was to befriend the one man who just two weeks and one night ago was my enemy… the reverend.”

…. …. …. …. …. …. …. ….

[The scene is simple. Chris Bond’s Vegas pad. 1950’s/modern theme; it’s very tasteful. The amazing patterns, the interesting furniture. All of it. AWESOME. Bond is sitting in an easy chair, a crystal glass filled with some brown beverage—presumably alcohol and it’s on the rocks. I mean, who drinks warm booze? Seriously?! But off topic. Bond is sitting there, the remnants of a black eye, probably the results of the altercation between Alonzo & Night. Never know though, it is Vegas.]

CB: “Seriously… who throws a shoe?!”

[The secret agent sips from his glass; the UAB (unidentified alcoholic beverage) slowly vanishes. It’s amazing. Simply put—magic trick! Ta-da! Yeah, no. He looks around. Obviously not very happy with the now obvious black eye remnant from a shoe.]

CB: “Yeah, now I’m talking to myself. See what happens when you get bitch slapped by a shoe?! Uh-oh, I’m vibrating.”

[His pocket is vibrating to be more specific you pervs. He pulls his phone out. It reads ‘T-Bag.’]

CB: “What’s crackalackin’ T-Man? Yeah… tell me about it… crazy week, huh?

No, I know. I saw. You totally passed out. Was it from the heat? You should go see a doctor, maybe its diabetes. Hell, it could be way worse than that. Crazy.

You really liked that kid didn’t ya? Yeah, cute kid. Horrible excuse for a father. ..Wait, why did you call then?

You what?

You want to speak to me at Showdown? Yeah… I can schedule you in. Sure, no problem mano. I’m here for ya.

Eugenia? Oh she’s fine. She’s fitting in quite nicely with the Reverend.

No, I do understand that he’s a Preacher. Yeah, I know there’s a difference. Catholocism and like Baptism right?! Yeah, I kid. I kid.

T-Bag I gotsta go. Keep drinking fluids to avoid heat stroke. Yeah. Later mano.”


[Bond rolls his eyes, obviously upset that the T-Man called him out on his little nickname. What a jerk. Bond just places his cell on the table next to him. He takes another sip from his glass. He places it next to his cell phone. He stands up and rubs his face. I don’t personally understand why people who drink, and then stand up, automatically rub their effing faces, but hell, who am I to judge? I roleplay as a wrestler. Anyway. He makes his way over to the kitchen, but the camera does not follow. (On a side note, it is amazing how the lack of a camera crew at a reality television series sort of makes you think, what’s the hold up?!) It focuses on the green light glowing on Bond’s phone. The screen fades from the typical clock like numbers… it’s almost as if someone has just hacked into the phone. Totally weird. Numbers begin to fall. That’s when it hits. The TV screen fades to static. But not the typical black and white snow. Oh no, it’s more than that. It’s neon green once more. And, to be more specific, it’s not little fuzzy dots. Nope. It’s numbers. And they’re falling. What the hell is that all about?]
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ATH: Reaper Edition I & II - Winner

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