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Angel The Malignant roleplay
Topic Started: Apr 24 2010, 03:19 PM (41 Views)
Los Locos
sVo Contender
[ *  * ]
SCENE: Inside Los Locos locker room located in the Goodfellas Casino Arena. 1:02 pm CST. The day after Sunday Night Showdown, the locker room is bare except for an oak desk piled with several folders. Sitting behind the desk is the XWF Hall of Famer and Charisma King himself, Angel The Malignant. Angel is wearing a tan two button designer suit and a white dress shirt with the top button undone. His right index finger is wrapped in gauze.::::

Angel: NEXT!

:::The door opens. Walking in is a young woman in her mid-twenties wearing a low cut blue dress accentuating her massive breasts, high heels, her hair is shoulder length and platinum blonde. She has a seat in the chair across from Angel The Malignant after handing him a folder and crosses her legs. Angel opens the folder::::

Angel: Okay….Ms. Dreamz.

Ms. Dreamz: Call me Misty.

Angel: Okay….Misty. Misty Dreamz. Hm. Unusual. It says here you have worked at someplace called the Crazy Horse for the past six months. You starred in a couple of films….”Schindler’s Fist” and “Harriette Potter and the Order of the Penis”. I don’t think you are quite right for this job.

Misty: Why not?

::::Misty stands up and leans over the desk. She makes sure he has a good look at her breasts before whispering seductively in his ear.:::

Misty: Don’t I have all the right qualifications?

Angel: This is a bodyguard position.

Misty: Mmm….don’t worry. I’ll take REAL good care of your body.

Angel: Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of. Look, I’m married and I have grown attached to the one testicle I have left so unless the Ruler of Maliglantis wants to become the Eunuch of Maliglantis I’m going to have to say good-bye to you and your massive bazongas.

Misty: What?!

Angel: Yeah, sorry. Try El Locon’s office. It’s just down the hall. I’m sure he’d love to try you out in all positions….I mean, let you try him out…I mean, give you an interview.

Misty: You do see where I have training in Kenpo and Jing Quan Do.

Angel: I don’t care what sexual positions you know, it’s not happening, so get out!

Misty: No, Kenpo and---

Angel: Silence! Away with you!

:::Misty, obviously dejected and a bit confused, walks out the door.:::

Angel: Sicko. What kind of example would the Sultan of Sea-Maligle set by hiring that skank?

::::Angel tosses Misty’s folder into the garbage can by his desk.::::

Angel: NEXT!

:::The door opens and in walks a tall older man. He looks to be about fifty, he has a long moustache, and is wearing a plaid shirt, a green T-shirt that says “It’s Five O’Clock Somewhere”, old ripped up jeans, and a trucker cap that says “Born to Party”.:::

Angel: Have a seat.

Applicant: SURE THANG BUDDY! DID YOU SEE THAT CHICK WALK OUTTA HERE?

Angel: Obviously, I must have.

Applicant: Damn! You right, son! You right! I tell you what, I would love to take her back to mah trailer and make her squeal lahk a pig goin’ mudboggin’!

Angel: How very quaint.

::::The man sits down and stares at Angel The Malignant and Angel The Malignant stares back at him.:::

Angel: Well?

Applicant: What?

Angel: Where is your application?

Applicant: Oh sheeeeeeeeoooot! I’m fixin’ to get that for ya!

:::The man reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper and places it on the desk.::::

Applicant: RAHT HERE BUDDY!

Angel: What is that?

Applicant: Mah application! Damn son! These are easy questions!

::::Angel picks up the crumpled ball of paper.:::

Angel: Why is it wet?

Applicant: Shoot son, Ah was chewin’ on some Skoal over yonder and there weren’t no trash cans so I didn’t want to ruin mah shot so I put it in thar.

::::Angel, repulsed drops the paper on the table.:::

Angel: And where did you spit your tobacco juices?

Applicant: Ah had a small baggie Ah spat it in. It’s in mah pocket, wanna see it?

Angel: Um…no. I think the King of Grapple from the Enchanted Island has seen enough.

Applicant: So Ah got me the job?

Angel: I‘ll call you.

Applicant: Yeah! I will do you proud. I know you is a yankee an’ all, but with the ‘conomy the way it is you gotta take what jobs there are!

Angel: In my opinion, you must be delusional to think that I would give this job to someone like you.

Applicant: Thank son! Oh wait, what does delusional mean?

Angel: Crazy.

::::The Applicant stands up.:::

Applicant: FUCK YOU BOY! I GOTS FOUR KIDS AND A WIFE AT HOME! I NEED ME THIS JOB!

Angel: And I need you to leave.

Applicant: Not without this job, I ain’t!

Angel: You convinced me. I’ll call you.

Applicant: Really?

Angel: Oh yes. Absolutely. I’ve waited my whole life to hire someone with your mental deficiencies.

Applicant: Thanks son!

::::The man reaches over and hugs Angel who is disgusted.::::

Applicant: Mah wife Billie Sue and mah kids, Cletus, Bobby Joe, Billie Lee, and Dale Earnhardt thanks you!!!

:::Angel shoves the man off.:::

Angel: Yeah, you’re welcome.

Applicant: You want I should tell them other folk to head on back where they come from?

Angel: How you’ve mastered the English language.

Applicant: Thanks boss! Mama didn’t raise no retards. I’ll go tell them folk to leave so we can---

Angel: You know what? Maybe you should leave and say nothing that way it doesn’t seem like you’re gloating.

Applicant: I ain’t never been with a goat before, boss!

Angel: I said GLOAT! Not GOAT! Gloat means brag.

Applicant: Oh! I gotcha! No problem boss!

::::The Applicant walks towards the door.:::

Applicant: You got my number, right?

Angel: You bet!

::::The Applicant walks out the door. Angel grabs a folder from the garbage and carefully uses it to bat the crumpled up application into the garbage can. Angel takes a seat again.:::

Angel: Unbelievable. NEXT!

:::The door opens revealing a young man in his early twenties, stocky, with spiked brown hair with blonde frosted tips. He is wearing a baggy shirt and baggy jeans. He hands Angel The Malignant his folder.::::

Angel: Please have a seat.

::::The man sits down.:::

Angel: Sam Riggs?

Sam: That’s right.

Angel: Okay, you did some bouncing at a bar called “Tony’s” for a three months, that’s good. You bounced at the “Oasis” for a year. Looks good. So, Mr. Riggs, tell me about---

Sam: It’s MISS.

Angel: Pardon?

Sam: It’s MISS Riggs. My name is Samantha Riggs.

Angel: Oh…Ohhhhhhhhhhh. The procedure isn’t quite done yet, is it? Still need more estrogen?

Sam: No, I’m a girl!

Angel: I’m sure you will be one day.

Sam: REALLY! I AM A GIRL!

Angel: You almost had me, but that moustache gives you away! I swear, you look like Magnum P.I.!

Sam: You ignorant son of a bitch!

:::Sam rears back and decks Angel The Malignant in the face and storms out.:::

Angel: OW! IF YOU ARE SO FEMININE THEN WHY DID THAT HURT???

:::Angel rubs his cheek.:::

Angel: Lunatics. I thought looking like Tom Selleck was a good thing. Hm, maybe I should grow a moustache. NEXT!!!

:::The door opens and in walks a man in his thirties. He has receding brown hair, his physique shows he works out. He is dressed in a green sweater vest over a white dress shirt.:::

Angel: Were you raised in a barn? Shut the door.

::::The man does as asked, walks to the desk, hands Angel The Malignant his application and sits down. The man waits patiently as Angel peruses his application.:::

Angel: It says here your name is James D’Ambrosio?

James: Yes.

Angel: Are you a dude or a chick?

James (impatient): I’m a dude!

Angel: Excuuuuse me! My last applicant got her panties in a bunch when I told her she looked like Magnum P.I.!

James: That was a chick that just left?

Angel: I KNOW!

James: Wow. Must be a lesbian.

Angel: Hm, I thought it was a dude going through a sex change operation or vice versa.

James: Maybe.

Angel: Okay, so it says here you used to be a model.

James: Yeah. I did spreads for Calvin Klein, DKNY, Armani, Ver---

Angel: What are we? Best friends? Do I give a rat’s rectum? No. Have you done any bodyguard work before?

James: Can’t say that I have.

Angel: What makes you qualified then to be my bodyguard?

James: The fact that I need the money and the modeling jobs aren’t coming in.

Angel: I’m sorry, I’ll have to stop you right there, but I’m getting a “Mactor” quality from you.

James: A what quality?

Angel: “Mactor”. It means “Model-Actor” to the uninformed.

James: I don’t understand.

Angel: Being a dim “Mactor”, the Maligaguay Czar is not surprised. Are you familiar with Reality TV?

James: Reality TV is crap.

Angel: Like your opinion matters to me. You see, in certain shows like “The Amazing Race”, “Survivor”, “Big Brother”, “Flavor of Love”, “Rock of Love”, and countless others, people who model and actor use those shows as a springboard to launch or relaunch their floundering careers. It makes me sick! I get this vibe that if you show up as my bodyguard you will just stand there, let me take a beating, and hope that you get a cool modeling gig.

James: What’s wrong with that?

Angel: You wouldn’t be there for me. So the best advice I have for you is grab some Rogaine, take a meeting with Sy Sperling and the Hairclub for Men, and stop wasting Angel The Malignant’s valuable time! Out!

:::James stands up and walks out shaking his head.:::

Angel: Freaking mactors. Taking the positions of people who actually apply to be on those shows because they want to do it for themselves. It makes me gag worse than watching a Raven-DVD match. NEXT!

::::The next applicant enters. A large black man enters. He is bald wearing a black suit, black dress shirt, and black tie. He closes the door behind him. Angel looks at the man as he walks towards the desk, hands him his application. Angel takes a moment to look it over.:::

Angel: Ashley Barber.

Ashley: Yes sir.

Angel: Isn’t that a chick’s name?

Ashley: My parents were cruel. They named me after some movie character. Evil Dead, Return of the Living Dead, one of those movies.

Angel: Bruce Campbell from Evil Dead! I love that movie! Have a seat!

::::Ashley takes a seat.:::

Angel: So, let’s see, you were in the Army for four years from 1995 to 1999. A college degree from Seton Hall.

Ashley: Yes sir. Business Management.

Angel: Impressive. You lost your home in Hurricane Katrina. You moved to Los Angeles with your wife to pursue some business ventures.

Ashley: None of which worked out.

Angel: It says you have some recent bodyguard experience?

Ashley: Yes sir. I did security for several artists. Jay-Z, Sean Combs, Nelly.

Angel: And what about your last job?

Ashley: I worked for Fifty Cent.

Angel: First of all, you pluralize cents. And secondly, I’m not surprised you left. Was that Fifty Cents an hour? Or what?

Ashley: No. The rapper Fifty Cent? “I’ll Whip Ya Head Boy”, “Green---

Angel: Are you threatening me, Ashley?

Ashley: What? No! That’s the name of the song.

Angel: “I’ll Whip Your Boy in the Head”?

Ashley: “I’ll Whip Ya Head Boy”. Look, forget it. He’s a rapper.

Angel: Fifty Cents is a rapper.

Ashley: Fifty Cent.

Angel: Fifty Cent. I guess we take that “S” off for “Sorry”!

Ashley: He is a rapper.

Angel: So why leave the lifestyle and the money?

Ashley: My wife got a job here in Chicago at a law firm.

Angel: So then why me?

Ashley: We need the money.

Angel: Money talks and The Canadian Connection walks.

Ashley: Isn’t it “Money talks and Bullshit walks”? Oh never mind, I get it.

Angel: You still could get a job with someone else or somewhere else. I mean, Donald Trump has a hotel in Chicago. Why not apply there?

Ashley: No way Donald Trump would hire me.

Angel: Have you seen the contestants on the new “Celebrity Apprentice”? If allowed Andrew Dice Clay back on TV, I don’t think he’d have a problem hiring you.

Ashley: I might just do that.

Angel: But that’s only if I choose not to hire you.

Ashley: Okay.

Angel: Have you seen the Sanctioned Violence Organization before?

Ashley: Yes sir.

Angel: Who is the greatest SVO wrestler that ever lived?

Ashley: What’s the criteria?

Angel: How do you mean?

Ashley: Are we talking based on entertainment value? Popular opinion? What?

Angel: Who would you say is the greatest SVO star of all-time?

Ashley: Well, based on sheer accomplishments, you. But I have to tell you, I love Raven! That guy just tears shit up!

Angel: Raven. The geriatric leader of the Legion of Dorkness.

Ashley: Hey, you asked my opinion. I like how he’s all about action. He kicks ass and he goes home. Win or lose that hard bastard kicks major ass!

Angel: But Raven? Why not just say El Locon? Or Night? Or DVD? Or Roscoe Shame? Of how about you just say “Good-Bye”.

Ashley: What?

Angel: You know what? I should just hire you and then immediately fire you just for the satisfaction of it! Out!

Ashley: This is messed up!

:::Ashley gets out of his chair and starts walking out the door.:::

Angel: Yeah? Tell it to your hero Raven! Raven is a loser and so are you!

Ashley: I hope The Corporation kicks your ass at “Showdown”!!!

Angel: Really? Well, I’ll double up on the Big Malignant Attack on Mr. Raven just for you! Maybe I'll whack him in the head again and give him some brain damage! You can watch on the welfare line! How do you like those apples ASHLEY?

::::Ashley heads out the door.:::

Ashley: FUCK YOU!

Angel: Nice language! YOU KISS YOUR MOTHER WITH THAT MOUTH?

::::Angel slumps down in his seat and tosses Ashley’s application in the garbage. Angel looks over at the clock and stands up and proceeds to exit the room.::::

Angel: Can’t the Maliglantic City Idol find ONE decent applicant? After lunch, Angel. After lunch. After lunch the Champion of Maliganooga will find someone to back him up at "Showdown".

::::Angel turns off the lights and shuts the door. End Scene.::::
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