AS73: Saboteur & S.H.I.T. vs. Ricky Runn & Vega
- Thread starter Harthan
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Saboteur: So I assume you know why youre here.
Saboteur sits on one end of a very long table. At the other end of the table, approximately 20 feet from Saboteur, is WZCWs one and only S.H.I.T.
S.H.I.T.: This one does not know why it is here.
Saboteur: Well, S.H.I.T., its because I want us to be friends of course!
S.H.I.T.: Why do you want to be friends with Scale Humanoid Industrial Technology? Are you also friends with your screwdriver?
Saboteur: Were not on speaking terms after the IKEA coffee table fiasco. But seriously S.H.I.T., you and I are two of the most veteran wrestlers on the WZCW roster, and we barely know anything about each other! I dont know your birthday, favorite color, the secrets you know about Barbosa that may reveal a potential weakness you know, things that friends know about each other!
S.H.I.T.: This one does not have a birthday or a favorite color.
Saboteur gets up out of his seat and moves closer to S.H.I.T.
Saboteur: Yeah yeah whatever, but what about Barbosas secrets?
S.H.I.T.: This one does not understand how learning about Barbosas secrets will cultivate a friendship with Saboteur.
Saboteur slickly slides his arm around the area of S.H.I.T.s body that resembles a set of human shoulders.
Saboteur: Buddy, real friends tell each other secrets about other people. Its called gossip, and all the cool kids are doing it.
S.H.I.T.: This ones ulterior motive detector is going off. Why are you so curious about Barbosa?
Saboteur: Ulterior motive? I have no ulterior motive! I just want a new friendship to unfold by you sharing Barbosas deepest darkest secrets!
S.H.I.T.: This situation has made this one uncomfortable. This one does not wish to involve itself in the affairs of Saboteur and Barbosa anymore.
Saboteur sighs and reaches into his pocket.
Saboteur: I didnt want it to have to come to this, but you left me no choice.
Saboteur pulls a magnet out of his pocket and swipes it across S.H.I.T.s head.
S.H.I.T.: What are you BLEEP BLOOP BLORP BZZZZZZT!
S.H.I.T.s head crashes into the table, his systems shut down.
Saboteur: Excellent, now all I need to do is find where he keeps his memory card
As Saboteur starts to search S.H.I.T. for some sort of memory compartment, the door to the Saboteur Tower boardroom swings open and Garrett walks into the room.
Garrett: Saboteur, I just got a message from WZCW. Youre in a tag match this week.
Saboteur: Im a little busy here Garrett! Cut to the chase!
Garrett: Its going to be Vega and Ricky Runn vs. you and your partner, S.H.I.T.
Saboteurs mask goes pale as he looks down at the deactivated robot.
Saboteur: Crap.
Saboteur is pacing back and forth behind a lifeless S.H.I.T. Garrett is also in the room, pressing the various buttons on S.H.I.T.s body.
Saboteur: Come on Garrett, restart him! Im not wrestling another tag match without a partner!
Garrett: Im trying, but these buttons dont seem to do anything!
Saboteur: Maybe his battery died. Maybe if we grab the ones from the remote and put them in him?
Garrett: I dont think a high-tech piece of equipment like this runs on AAAs.
Saboteur sticks his finger in the air when an idea enters his mind.
Saboteur: I got it!
Saboteur runs out of the conference room, but quickly returns with defibrillator panels.
Garrett: Saboteur, I really dont think this is a good i
Saboteur: CLEAR!
Saboteur shoves the panels onto S.H.I.T.s chest, sending an untold amount of electricity coursing through the robots circuitry. S.H.I.T. responds to the jolt, shooting up in his chair and rising to his feet.
S.H.I.T.: THIS ONES ALIIIIIIIVE!
S.H.I.T. piston chops the conference table, breaking it in half.
Saboteur: Hes back! And hes stronger then ever! Come on S.H.I.T., we have a match to wrestle in!
S.H.I.T.: Im afraid I cant let you do that, Dave.
Saboteur and Garrett exchange a puzzled look.
Garrett: Who are you talking to, S.H.I.T.? Theres nobody named Dave here.
S.H.I.T.: May I sing you a song, Dave?
Saboteur: Do you take requests?
S.H.I.T.: I like big butts and I cannot lie! You other brothers cant deny! When a girl walks in with an itty bitty waste and a round thing in your face you get sprung!
S.H.I.T. continues to sing as Saboteur and Garrett begin to talk to each other.
Garrett: Whats he doing?
Saboteur: Hes rapping, and doing a great job at it I might add.
Saboteur starts grooving to the sick rhymes and infectious beats S.H.I.T. is dropping, but Garrett seems to be too concerned to join in.
Garrett: No, I mean whys he calling us Dave? And why is he singing at all? I think I think he thinks hes HAL 9000 from 2001: A Space Odyssey.
Saboteur: What? Youre crazy. This is probably just the sound he makes when he connects to the internet. At least hes not making those annoying dial-up noises.
Garrett: I guess, but I really think something might be wait, whats he doing now?
Saboteur turns around to see S.H.I.T. toting a broom and dust pan, cleaning up the woodchips from the recently chopped table.
S.H.I.T.: The floor needs to spotless and clean! Thats why you hired me George!
Saboteur: George? Who are you talking to S.H.I.T.?
S.H.I.T.: Who are you talking to George? My name is Rosie, and I am programmed to clean your home. Now, would you like me to clean the windshield for your hovercar?
Saboteur: Wait a minute I dont have a hovercar!
Garrett grabs Saboteur by the shoulders and shakes him.
Garrett: Dont you see what happened, Sab?! He thinks hes other robots! Now hes doing Rosie from the Jetsons!
Saboteur: Oh no! I must have accidentally messed up his personality cortex when I magnetized his mainframe!
Garrett: You did what?! You could have wiped his hard drive! We may never be able to get the real S.H.I.T. back!
Saboteur: Oh relax, hes fine. See?
Saboteur and Garrett look to S.H.I.T. only to find the formerly fearsome robotic warrior playing maid, wiping the windows of Saboteur Tower.
Garrett: Yeah, we should probably call tech support
Saboteur: No! If were going to get help for S.H.I.T., then Im only letting the best and brightest work on him. We dont need some nerd with a degree in computer science: we need a genius, and theres only one place to find a genius.
Garrett: Oh no, youre not going to take him to
Saboteur: Im taking him to the Apple Store!
Saboteur is dragging S.H.I.T. by the arm down the streets of Wyoming City as they travel to the Apple Store.
S.H.I.T.: Where we goin? The nudie bar? The drinkin bar? The nudie drinkin bar?
Saboteur: Were going to the Genius Bar.
S.H.I.T.: The Genius Bar?! I dont wanna get drunk with a bunch of nerds!
Saboteur: Were not going to get drunk, were going to get you fixed.
S.H.I.T.: Fixed? I dont need to get fixed, Im perfect just the way I am baby!
As the duo of wrestlers continue to trek down the street, they are approached by a young child and his mother.
Boy: Look ma, its Saboteur and S.H.I.T.! You guys are my favorite wrestlers!
S.H.I.T. kneels down and looks the child in the eye.
S.H.I.T.: Whatd you call me?!
Boy: S.H.I.T.! I loved your match against Baez. Too bad that jerk won!
S.H.I.T. grabs the boy by the waist and hoists him off the ground.
S.H.I.T.: The names Bender you pipsqueak, and dont you forget it.
Saboteur smacks S.H.I.T. on the back of the head causing the robot to drop the kid.
Boy: Youre mean! Youre not my favorite anymore!
S.H.I.T.: Yeah? Well you can bite my shiny metal
Saboteur: Hey! Lets try to keep it PG around here! Its bad enough that your initials spell a dirty slang term for excrement.
S.H.I.T.: What are you talking about, my name is Bender! Bender Bending Rodriguez!
Saboteur shakes his head in frustration and continues to drag S.H.I.T. down the street.
Saboteur: No, thats not who you are. You are Scaled Humanoid Industrial Technology, and you exist only to destroy.
S.H.I.T.: I exist only to bend!
Saboteur: No, you exist only to destroy! And this Sunday we have a match with two guys that aim to destroy us, and if we dont destroy them, then theyll win!
S.H.I.T.: Well why didnt you say so?! I can totally beat any dweebs that try to fight us. Check this out!
S.H.I.T. walks up to a nearby streetlamp and puts his hands around its pole and starts to pull, but it is to no avail.
Saboteur: What are you doing?
S.H.I.T.: What does it look like Im doing? Im bending! This seems to be an extra reinforced streetlamp, though.
Saboteur: No, S.H.I.T., its just a regular street lamp.
As hard as S.H.I.T. tries, the streetlamp doesnt budge. He lets go and turns to Saboteur, half in anger and half in panic.
S.H.I.T.: My benders wont bend! What did you do to my benders?
Saboteur: Snap out of it, S.H.I.T.! Were going up against one of the most dangerous men in WZCW and Ricky Runn this weekend, and if youre not in fighting shape, were toast! I refuse to lose to the guy I just beat on pay-per-view and the guy who thinks glitter is a masculine accessory!
S.H.I.T.: Glitter? Im 40% glitter!
Saboteur sighs and again starts to drag S.H.I.T. down the street.
Saboteur: No, no you are not. Right now youre 100% a pain in my butt, but youll be better soon. Weve finally arrived.
A clap of thunder is heard and the sky flashes as lightning pierces the air. The camera pans down to reveal the intimidating hub of cutting edge technology known as the Apple Store.
Saboteur: Come on, S.H.I.T., lets get you back to being you.
Saboteur sits on one end of a very long table. At the other end of the table, approximately 20 feet from Saboteur, is WZCWs one and only S.H.I.T.
S.H.I.T.: This one does not know why it is here.
Saboteur: Well, S.H.I.T., its because I want us to be friends of course!
S.H.I.T.: Why do you want to be friends with Scale Humanoid Industrial Technology? Are you also friends with your screwdriver?
Saboteur: Were not on speaking terms after the IKEA coffee table fiasco. But seriously S.H.I.T., you and I are two of the most veteran wrestlers on the WZCW roster, and we barely know anything about each other! I dont know your birthday, favorite color, the secrets you know about Barbosa that may reveal a potential weakness you know, things that friends know about each other!
S.H.I.T.: This one does not have a birthday or a favorite color.
Saboteur gets up out of his seat and moves closer to S.H.I.T.
Saboteur: Yeah yeah whatever, but what about Barbosas secrets?
S.H.I.T.: This one does not understand how learning about Barbosas secrets will cultivate a friendship with Saboteur.
Saboteur slickly slides his arm around the area of S.H.I.T.s body that resembles a set of human shoulders.
Saboteur: Buddy, real friends tell each other secrets about other people. Its called gossip, and all the cool kids are doing it.
S.H.I.T.: This ones ulterior motive detector is going off. Why are you so curious about Barbosa?
Saboteur: Ulterior motive? I have no ulterior motive! I just want a new friendship to unfold by you sharing Barbosas deepest darkest secrets!
S.H.I.T.: This situation has made this one uncomfortable. This one does not wish to involve itself in the affairs of Saboteur and Barbosa anymore.
Saboteur sighs and reaches into his pocket.
Saboteur: I didnt want it to have to come to this, but you left me no choice.
Saboteur pulls a magnet out of his pocket and swipes it across S.H.I.T.s head.
S.H.I.T.: What are you BLEEP BLOOP BLORP BZZZZZZT!
S.H.I.T.s head crashes into the table, his systems shut down.
Saboteur: Excellent, now all I need to do is find where he keeps his memory card
As Saboteur starts to search S.H.I.T. for some sort of memory compartment, the door to the Saboteur Tower boardroom swings open and Garrett walks into the room.
Garrett: Saboteur, I just got a message from WZCW. Youre in a tag match this week.
Saboteur: Im a little busy here Garrett! Cut to the chase!
Garrett: Its going to be Vega and Ricky Runn vs. you and your partner, S.H.I.T.
Saboteurs mask goes pale as he looks down at the deactivated robot.
Saboteur: Crap.
SABOTEUR Vol. 14 Ep. 1: Multiple Operating Platform Disorder
Saboteur is pacing back and forth behind a lifeless S.H.I.T. Garrett is also in the room, pressing the various buttons on S.H.I.T.s body.
Saboteur: Come on Garrett, restart him! Im not wrestling another tag match without a partner!
Garrett: Im trying, but these buttons dont seem to do anything!
Saboteur: Maybe his battery died. Maybe if we grab the ones from the remote and put them in him?
Garrett: I dont think a high-tech piece of equipment like this runs on AAAs.
Saboteur sticks his finger in the air when an idea enters his mind.
Saboteur: I got it!
Saboteur runs out of the conference room, but quickly returns with defibrillator panels.
Garrett: Saboteur, I really dont think this is a good i
Saboteur: CLEAR!
Saboteur shoves the panels onto S.H.I.T.s chest, sending an untold amount of electricity coursing through the robots circuitry. S.H.I.T. responds to the jolt, shooting up in his chair and rising to his feet.
S.H.I.T.: THIS ONES ALIIIIIIIVE!
S.H.I.T. piston chops the conference table, breaking it in half.
Saboteur: Hes back! And hes stronger then ever! Come on S.H.I.T., we have a match to wrestle in!
S.H.I.T.: Im afraid I cant let you do that, Dave.
Saboteur and Garrett exchange a puzzled look.
Garrett: Who are you talking to, S.H.I.T.? Theres nobody named Dave here.
S.H.I.T.: May I sing you a song, Dave?
Saboteur: Do you take requests?
S.H.I.T.: I like big butts and I cannot lie! You other brothers cant deny! When a girl walks in with an itty bitty waste and a round thing in your face you get sprung!
S.H.I.T. continues to sing as Saboteur and Garrett begin to talk to each other.
Garrett: Whats he doing?
Saboteur: Hes rapping, and doing a great job at it I might add.
Saboteur starts grooving to the sick rhymes and infectious beats S.H.I.T. is dropping, but Garrett seems to be too concerned to join in.
Garrett: No, I mean whys he calling us Dave? And why is he singing at all? I think I think he thinks hes HAL 9000 from 2001: A Space Odyssey.
Saboteur: What? Youre crazy. This is probably just the sound he makes when he connects to the internet. At least hes not making those annoying dial-up noises.
Garrett: I guess, but I really think something might be wait, whats he doing now?
Saboteur turns around to see S.H.I.T. toting a broom and dust pan, cleaning up the woodchips from the recently chopped table.
S.H.I.T.: The floor needs to spotless and clean! Thats why you hired me George!
Saboteur: George? Who are you talking to S.H.I.T.?
S.H.I.T.: Who are you talking to George? My name is Rosie, and I am programmed to clean your home. Now, would you like me to clean the windshield for your hovercar?
Saboteur: Wait a minute I dont have a hovercar!
Garrett grabs Saboteur by the shoulders and shakes him.
Garrett: Dont you see what happened, Sab?! He thinks hes other robots! Now hes doing Rosie from the Jetsons!
Saboteur: Oh no! I must have accidentally messed up his personality cortex when I magnetized his mainframe!
Garrett: You did what?! You could have wiped his hard drive! We may never be able to get the real S.H.I.T. back!
Saboteur: Oh relax, hes fine. See?
Saboteur and Garrett look to S.H.I.T. only to find the formerly fearsome robotic warrior playing maid, wiping the windows of Saboteur Tower.
Garrett: Yeah, we should probably call tech support
Saboteur: No! If were going to get help for S.H.I.T., then Im only letting the best and brightest work on him. We dont need some nerd with a degree in computer science: we need a genius, and theres only one place to find a genius.
Garrett: Oh no, youre not going to take him to
Saboteur: Im taking him to the Apple Store!
------------------------------
Saboteur is dragging S.H.I.T. by the arm down the streets of Wyoming City as they travel to the Apple Store.
S.H.I.T.: Where we goin? The nudie bar? The drinkin bar? The nudie drinkin bar?
Saboteur: Were going to the Genius Bar.
S.H.I.T.: The Genius Bar?! I dont wanna get drunk with a bunch of nerds!
Saboteur: Were not going to get drunk, were going to get you fixed.
S.H.I.T.: Fixed? I dont need to get fixed, Im perfect just the way I am baby!
As the duo of wrestlers continue to trek down the street, they are approached by a young child and his mother.
Boy: Look ma, its Saboteur and S.H.I.T.! You guys are my favorite wrestlers!
S.H.I.T. kneels down and looks the child in the eye.
S.H.I.T.: Whatd you call me?!
Boy: S.H.I.T.! I loved your match against Baez. Too bad that jerk won!
S.H.I.T. grabs the boy by the waist and hoists him off the ground.
S.H.I.T.: The names Bender you pipsqueak, and dont you forget it.
Saboteur smacks S.H.I.T. on the back of the head causing the robot to drop the kid.
Boy: Youre mean! Youre not my favorite anymore!
S.H.I.T.: Yeah? Well you can bite my shiny metal
Saboteur: Hey! Lets try to keep it PG around here! Its bad enough that your initials spell a dirty slang term for excrement.
S.H.I.T.: What are you talking about, my name is Bender! Bender Bending Rodriguez!
Saboteur shakes his head in frustration and continues to drag S.H.I.T. down the street.
Saboteur: No, thats not who you are. You are Scaled Humanoid Industrial Technology, and you exist only to destroy.
S.H.I.T.: I exist only to bend!
Saboteur: No, you exist only to destroy! And this Sunday we have a match with two guys that aim to destroy us, and if we dont destroy them, then theyll win!
S.H.I.T.: Well why didnt you say so?! I can totally beat any dweebs that try to fight us. Check this out!
S.H.I.T. walks up to a nearby streetlamp and puts his hands around its pole and starts to pull, but it is to no avail.
Saboteur: What are you doing?
S.H.I.T.: What does it look like Im doing? Im bending! This seems to be an extra reinforced streetlamp, though.
Saboteur: No, S.H.I.T., its just a regular street lamp.
As hard as S.H.I.T. tries, the streetlamp doesnt budge. He lets go and turns to Saboteur, half in anger and half in panic.
S.H.I.T.: My benders wont bend! What did you do to my benders?
Saboteur: Snap out of it, S.H.I.T.! Were going up against one of the most dangerous men in WZCW and Ricky Runn this weekend, and if youre not in fighting shape, were toast! I refuse to lose to the guy I just beat on pay-per-view and the guy who thinks glitter is a masculine accessory!
S.H.I.T.: Glitter? Im 40% glitter!
Saboteur sighs and again starts to drag S.H.I.T. down the street.
Saboteur: No, no you are not. Right now youre 100% a pain in my butt, but youll be better soon. Weve finally arrived.
A clap of thunder is heard and the sky flashes as lightning pierces the air. The camera pans down to reveal the intimidating hub of cutting edge technology known as the Apple Store.
Saboteur: Come on, S.H.I.T., lets get you back to being you.
The automatic double doors slide open and the weaselly Apple staff look up anticipating another victim, practically frothing at the mouth at the opportunity to sell some more over-priced garbage which somehow got its creator labelled as a visionary. Had S.H.I.T been its normal self, it might've made an observation that there was no fruit to be sold in this store, for that we can all be duly grateful, because even though S.H.I.T wouldn't be joking, that joke is as old as Apple itself.
Instead of its normal stoic manner, S.H.I.T enters the store being dragged by what at first glance would appear to be a spandex clad, katana wielding assassin, clearly two such peoples only occupation could be pro-wrestling.
The lecherous Apple staff start to swarm them like crows and ravens swarm corpses, each fighting with the other for the juiciest part, especially when their customers look as guileless as these two. One of the braver ones, a man who resembles a ferret with glasses approaches the pair and speaks, his adams apple bobbing up and down freakishly as he does so.
"Hello there, and how may we help.... you?" The voice seems to come more out of his nose than his mouth, resulting in some sort of nasally whine, with pauses in entirely the wrong places.
"Are you a genius?" Saboteur responds.
"Well, I don't like to.... brag, but..."
"Then find me somebody that will, I need a genius here!"
"What seems to be.... the problem?"
Saboteur leans in conspiratorially, the other man leans in even closer. "I need you to fix my...."
The man beams, "oh, I see you do dramatic pauses as well!"
"What? No..."
"Oh I thought.... I was the only one," he clasps his hands together in delight. "You.... have no idea..." He stops suddenly as a very sharp katana is pushed against his throat.
"I don't want any idea, I need you to fix my S.H.I.T."
The other man pauses for a long moment, his adams apple bouncing up and down dangerously close to Saboteurs Katana. "I think you.... might be in the wrong.... store."
Saboteur looks around, "this is the Apple store, right?"
"Yes.... but maybe you should see a dietician or something?"
The Katana edges closer to the mans neck, "are you saying I look fat?"
"No, I just...." he looks exasperated. Saboteur decides to take pity on him.
"Look, fix that robot," he said, indicating the figure next to him.
"What.... robot?"
"That robot!" But as he looked around he saw no one next to him, "oh, darn. Where has he got to!"
Number 5 is alive! The sudden exclamation draws both their attention to the other side of the store, where what is clearly the body of S.H.I.T is dancing with a terrified looking young woman.
No! Bad robot! Saboteur shouts, finally removing the katana from the vicinity of the poor shop attendant. Leave her alone!
But Saboteur, they have devices that play music, come and see! He hands Saboteur the headphones, and reluctantly the masked assassin puts them in his ears, the unmistakable sound of 'Saturday Night Fever' ringing through his cranium.
"Hey, that is kinda cool!"
Mmm! And look at this, its called an iPad.
"Yes.... although that is an inferior model now. We have.... a..."
Oh, said S.H.I.T sounding dissapointed, it takes a final, almost wistful look at the iPad before casually throwing it over its shoulder.
No! You'll break it!
Break? As in destroy?
Saboteur noticeably perks up at the word 'destroy'. "Yes, destroy! Your favourite activity."
Destroy... Disassemble... Dead...
"Are those.... dramatic paus..."
"No!"
Destroy... Disassemble... Dead...
Disassemble!?! Dead!?! S.H.I.T's voice rises with frequency and urgency, and it starts to look on the urge of panic.
"What would appear to be.... the problem?"
"He is not Johnny 5, he is S.H.I.T. The Ultimate Destruction Machine."
"Ultimate.... Destruction Machine?" Suddenly the ferret mans posture changes from hunched over to fully upright, and a fierce look of determination comes into his eyes. "Take him to.... the lab!"
------- ----------------- -------
"This isn't a lab."
"Of course it.... is."
This isn't a lab, and you're not trying to fix S.H.I.T.
The aforementioned robot waves at Saboteur.
"Of.... course we are."
You've been trying to sell us your products for the last 3 hours.
"Of course.... we're not."
You do realise he has no way to pay for all that, right? Saboteur indicates S.H.I.T who is surrounded by boxes, of what we can only assume is the usual garbage such as the latest iSocks complete with headphones for optimum head and foot comfort. S.H.I.T seems to have shown an curious enthusiasm for it all.
And what does this do?
"Well.... this is the latest iMicrowave 3000.... it will microwave.... any number of foods..."
"Like a normal microwave?"
"Well.... yes..."
Only four times the price, with additional charges?
"Yes, but.... if you plug it in here."
He plugs it in, then jumps back in shock as S.H.I.T begins to jolt and shake.
Destroy! Destroy!
"Ah, thats more like it!"
Destroy Robinson family! Destroy!
"Oh, heck."
Destroy! Destroy Vega! Destroy Ricky Runn! Destroy Baez Tastic! Destroy Barbosa!
Saboteur jumps up excitedly, "thats it, he's nearly back!"
Destroy Robinson family!
"No! Do that thing again!"
Quickly, the ferret man switches the microwave back on.
Destroy! Destroy! Destroy! Destroy!
"No, he's looping. Do something."
Exasperated the ferret man shrugs at Saboteur. In an act of desperation the masked assassin grabs the microwave, hoists it in the air and hurls it at the looping Machine. It bounces off, crashing into some other ridiculously over priced and pointless merchandise, stunning S.H.I.T into silence.
"I.... think you broke it."
Just then it twitches.
S.H.I.T exists only to destroy!
"He's back!"
Saboteur, we must destroy our opposition, Ricky Runn and Vega on Meltdown!
"Hey, I never told you who we were against, how do you know?"
Everybody stares at the robot, which does the closest thing it can to imitate a shrug. A plot contrivance.
That seems satisfactory to all.
"Although the match is on Ascension."
Everybody stares at the robot, which does the closest thing it can to imitate a shrug. Nothing is perfect.
That seems satisfactory to all.
Apart from S.H.I.T's destructive capabilities, they are as perfect as can possibly be, as Ricky Runn and Vega will learn to their sorrow!
"Oh, I am sure it can.... be made better," interrupted the Apple salesman, "in fact, we here at Apple could..."
In a motion as quick as a flash, S.H.I.T spun and delivered a Piston Chop to the top of the Apple salesman's head, knocking his glasses askew and dropping him instantly. The other employees back away slowly.
100% perfect. Said the Machine, no one seems in a rush to disagree.
And after them, Matt Tastic... It said, darkly. First, we must go to the store, Saboteur, this one wishes to purchase a mask just like yours, that way we can be the perfect team.
"That's copyright infrigement." Saboteur protests.
Negative, this one will be a different colour. Matt Tastic is not the only competitor who can don a mask.
"Why don't you go to the shop with Barbosa?"
S.H.I.T pauses for a while, remembering the sudden chairshots, the calculated manic fury, being left in a pile in the corridor. It had grown used to Barbosa's outbursts, but that went back to another time, a time in which he and the Machine stopped at nothing to destroy each other.
This one and Barbosa are not speaking, at the moment.
"Oh..."
Perhaps this one will have a surprise in store for him.
S.H.I.T looks up at the ceiling as the shot starts to pan away...
"What?" S.H.I.T's head snaps round to look at Saboteur.
Disregard, you are not privy to all the necessary information.
S.H.I.T again looks at the ceiling as the shot pans out slowly.
"Lovers tiff?"
Instead of its normal stoic manner, S.H.I.T enters the store being dragged by what at first glance would appear to be a spandex clad, katana wielding assassin, clearly two such peoples only occupation could be pro-wrestling.
The lecherous Apple staff start to swarm them like crows and ravens swarm corpses, each fighting with the other for the juiciest part, especially when their customers look as guileless as these two. One of the braver ones, a man who resembles a ferret with glasses approaches the pair and speaks, his adams apple bobbing up and down freakishly as he does so.
"Hello there, and how may we help.... you?" The voice seems to come more out of his nose than his mouth, resulting in some sort of nasally whine, with pauses in entirely the wrong places.
"Are you a genius?" Saboteur responds.
"Well, I don't like to.... brag, but..."
"Then find me somebody that will, I need a genius here!"
"What seems to be.... the problem?"
Saboteur leans in conspiratorially, the other man leans in even closer. "I need you to fix my...."
The man beams, "oh, I see you do dramatic pauses as well!"
"What? No..."
"Oh I thought.... I was the only one," he clasps his hands together in delight. "You.... have no idea..." He stops suddenly as a very sharp katana is pushed against his throat.
"I don't want any idea, I need you to fix my S.H.I.T."
The other man pauses for a long moment, his adams apple bouncing up and down dangerously close to Saboteurs Katana. "I think you.... might be in the wrong.... store."
Saboteur looks around, "this is the Apple store, right?"
"Yes.... but maybe you should see a dietician or something?"
The Katana edges closer to the mans neck, "are you saying I look fat?"
"No, I just...." he looks exasperated. Saboteur decides to take pity on him.
"Look, fix that robot," he said, indicating the figure next to him.
"What.... robot?"
"That robot!" But as he looked around he saw no one next to him, "oh, darn. Where has he got to!"
Number 5 is alive! The sudden exclamation draws both their attention to the other side of the store, where what is clearly the body of S.H.I.T is dancing with a terrified looking young woman.
No! Bad robot! Saboteur shouts, finally removing the katana from the vicinity of the poor shop attendant. Leave her alone!
But Saboteur, they have devices that play music, come and see! He hands Saboteur the headphones, and reluctantly the masked assassin puts them in his ears, the unmistakable sound of 'Saturday Night Fever' ringing through his cranium.
"Hey, that is kinda cool!"
Mmm! And look at this, its called an iPad.
"Yes.... although that is an inferior model now. We have.... a..."
Oh, said S.H.I.T sounding dissapointed, it takes a final, almost wistful look at the iPad before casually throwing it over its shoulder.
No! You'll break it!
Break? As in destroy?
Saboteur noticeably perks up at the word 'destroy'. "Yes, destroy! Your favourite activity."
Destroy... Disassemble... Dead...
"Are those.... dramatic paus..."
"No!"
Destroy... Disassemble... Dead...
Disassemble!?! Dead!?! S.H.I.T's voice rises with frequency and urgency, and it starts to look on the urge of panic.
"What would appear to be.... the problem?"
"He is not Johnny 5, he is S.H.I.T. The Ultimate Destruction Machine."
"Ultimate.... Destruction Machine?" Suddenly the ferret mans posture changes from hunched over to fully upright, and a fierce look of determination comes into his eyes. "Take him to.... the lab!"
------- ----------------- -------
"This isn't a lab."
"Of course it.... is."
This isn't a lab, and you're not trying to fix S.H.I.T.
The aforementioned robot waves at Saboteur.
"Of.... course we are."
You've been trying to sell us your products for the last 3 hours.
"Of course.... we're not."
You do realise he has no way to pay for all that, right? Saboteur indicates S.H.I.T who is surrounded by boxes, of what we can only assume is the usual garbage such as the latest iSocks complete with headphones for optimum head and foot comfort. S.H.I.T seems to have shown an curious enthusiasm for it all.
And what does this do?
"Well.... this is the latest iMicrowave 3000.... it will microwave.... any number of foods..."
"Like a normal microwave?"
"Well.... yes..."
Only four times the price, with additional charges?
"Yes, but.... if you plug it in here."
He plugs it in, then jumps back in shock as S.H.I.T begins to jolt and shake.
Destroy! Destroy!
"Ah, thats more like it!"
Destroy Robinson family! Destroy!
"Oh, heck."
Destroy! Destroy Vega! Destroy Ricky Runn! Destroy Baez Tastic! Destroy Barbosa!
Saboteur jumps up excitedly, "thats it, he's nearly back!"
Destroy Robinson family!
"No! Do that thing again!"
Quickly, the ferret man switches the microwave back on.
Destroy! Destroy! Destroy! Destroy!
"No, he's looping. Do something."
Exasperated the ferret man shrugs at Saboteur. In an act of desperation the masked assassin grabs the microwave, hoists it in the air and hurls it at the looping Machine. It bounces off, crashing into some other ridiculously over priced and pointless merchandise, stunning S.H.I.T into silence.
"I.... think you broke it."
Just then it twitches.
S.H.I.T exists only to destroy!
"He's back!"
Saboteur, we must destroy our opposition, Ricky Runn and Vega on Meltdown!
"Hey, I never told you who we were against, how do you know?"
Everybody stares at the robot, which does the closest thing it can to imitate a shrug. A plot contrivance.
That seems satisfactory to all.
"Although the match is on Ascension."
Everybody stares at the robot, which does the closest thing it can to imitate a shrug. Nothing is perfect.
That seems satisfactory to all.
Apart from S.H.I.T's destructive capabilities, they are as perfect as can possibly be, as Ricky Runn and Vega will learn to their sorrow!
"Oh, I am sure it can.... be made better," interrupted the Apple salesman, "in fact, we here at Apple could..."
In a motion as quick as a flash, S.H.I.T spun and delivered a Piston Chop to the top of the Apple salesman's head, knocking his glasses askew and dropping him instantly. The other employees back away slowly.
100% perfect. Said the Machine, no one seems in a rush to disagree.
And after them, Matt Tastic... It said, darkly. First, we must go to the store, Saboteur, this one wishes to purchase a mask just like yours, that way we can be the perfect team.
"That's copyright infrigement." Saboteur protests.
Negative, this one will be a different colour. Matt Tastic is not the only competitor who can don a mask.
"Why don't you go to the shop with Barbosa?"
S.H.I.T pauses for a while, remembering the sudden chairshots, the calculated manic fury, being left in a pile in the corridor. It had grown used to Barbosa's outbursts, but that went back to another time, a time in which he and the Machine stopped at nothing to destroy each other.
This one and Barbosa are not speaking, at the moment.
"Oh..."
Perhaps this one will have a surprise in store for him.
S.H.I.T looks up at the ceiling as the shot starts to pan away...
"What?" S.H.I.T's head snaps round to look at Saboteur.
Disregard, you are not privy to all the necessary information.
S.H.I.T again looks at the ceiling as the shot pans out slowly.
"Lovers tiff?"
We find our Swagtastic Rap-Lic Priest in sweet baby smooth skin in a night club back in the good 'ole US of A. Clearly any nightclub in America was better than the ones in Europe because it wasn't based in a barren wasteland but in the hopping state of Georgia. Ricky stood proudly on top of a bar table, in both hands were Jager bombs and around his waist the WZCW shined brighter than ever WZCW Heavyweight Championship. The crowd in Georgia were unsurprisingly having a fantastic evening with Runn providing free drinks to celebrate grabbing the title from the mentally challenged mittens of Barbosa. In the crowd below Ricky was his new best friend. Dudeface McManBro fist pumping shouting
Dudeface:"Jager Bombs! Jager Bombs! Jager Bombs!"
Ricky, clearly under the influence knocks his head back and pounds back not, one but both of the glasses down his gullet. When both drinks were finished Ricky raised them up and shouted proudly and shouted in a drunken slur.
Ricky:"YOLO!"
The crowd chanted happily and continued partying. The combination of music, chanting, and maybe a little bit too much alcohol caused things to start spinning. Then things went to black.
We are now taken to a cold, yet very sunny day in Georgia. However Ricky was no longer in the Nightclub we had previously saw him at, but however tied upside down by rope to a tree. Ricky actually slept pretty peacefully considering the position he was in. It wasn't until he felt a warm tinkle hit his side he stir awake. Looking to the side, he saw a homeless man peeing on the National Treasure that was Ricky's abs. Shaking helplessly like a fully alive Piñata.
Ricky:"Woah woah woah woah hold the phone you Phil Robertson looking son of a!"
The homeless guy was startled to see the shining beacon of swag light wake up.
Homeless guy: "Sorry about that, mister. Only dead people get tied up on old pissing tree here."
Ricky was rightfully confused by the strange tradition.
Ricky:"Wait you tie dead people to a... okay no, Georgia is weird. Can you cut me down from here before I get the Swag pack here and they'll--"
Ricky was then cut off with the Homeless man pulling out knife and freeing Ricky from the old pissing tree. Causing our leader of the new generation of youth to fall onto his head with a thud. In disgust, Ricky had to remove the piss stained shirt to be left standing with his rocking body and jeans from the night before. The glare from the sunlight started to bother Ricky's baby blue eyes. The perfection that were the mirrors of Ricky's soul needed to be protected. Looking about for sunglasses Ricky pointed to the homeless man, seeing the numerous sunglasses hanging from the homeless man's neck.
Ricky:"Hold up, yo. Where did you get my sunglasses?"
Homeless Man:"Oh you don't know about pissin' tree. Whatever the guy has is up for grabs."
Ricky:"Man Georgia is weird, give me back my sunglasses. I can't be seen without my sunglasses!"
While Ricky did ask, he reached in and took what he wanted and he needed. Grabbing the sunglasses and placing them onto his eyes. Shaking the cobwebs out of his head and his hair he patted his pockets for his phone and his wallet, and found nothing. Looking around, Ricky muttered.
Ricky:"Last time I party in Georgia..."
Though unfortunately for Ricky, an all too realization hit him with the force of a truck.
The championship. Where was the championship. O M G
Ricky started to panic and patted his waist, hoping the title would still be there, but it was not.
Ricky:"Oh hamburgers! I need to call the Swag Pack, ASAP. Homeless dude, you got a phone?"
The homeless dude pats his pockets and pulls out a phone that looks like Ricky's iPhone.
Ricky:"Dude, what the hell, did you steal all of my stuff?"
Homeless Man: "What, no? This is my phone. Homeless people get great phone plans."
Ricky:"Oh yeah? What's the screensaver to your phone?"
Homeless Man:"Uhmmmm Amber Warren?"
Ricky Runn:"Psych! It's a picture of me, who else? Gimmie that!"
Ricky snatches the phone back and opens up the phone and smiles at the picture of himself. Then digging into his pocket he did managed to find a conch shell. Then shouting.
Ricky:Ricky:"Swag pack. Aseeembllllllllleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"
Then blowing into the conch shell, a booming noise came from the shell. All in hopes for the Swag Pack to converge onto the sound. Ricky looks around for a moment, shrugging and saying in slight surprise.
Ricky:"Huh, that's weird. I thought that would work."
Ricky then walked away from the man and began to search for his hotel. Ricky, being a super genius and down right sexy Private Investigator starts searching his phone for clues about what happened after Ricky had blacked out. Pictures flashed onto the screen, one of them was Ricky twearking with the Governor of Georgia. Another was a picture of Ricky taking belly shots out of a girl named Georgia. Another was a picture of none other than Dudeface McManBro and his brother, Brotherjack McManBro standing over a blacked out Ricky holding the Heavyweight championship. Gritting his teeth Ricky said in shock.
Ricky:"That dastardly dastard!"
Then in surprise, the Swag pack arrived onto Ricky's location from several different locations. Jameson came busting through the doors of a buffet, Donny J came in a limo with none other than Phil Robertson. Who both stopped to wave at each other before Phil's limo sped off. Then Joe Mason came with a parachute. Everyone stopped surprised with Ricky saying to the Political Correcter.
Ricky:"Um, what the hell were you doing Joe Mason?"
Joe Mason:"Oh well, golly I was trying out a new gimmick, and since you weren't a daredevil anymore I--"
Ricky than slapped Joe across the back of the head and saying firmly.
Ricky:"No! We don't do that! Stop that! Stop that right now!"
Joe Mason gasped and rubbed the back of his head in pain. Looking up at Ricky with a pleading look in his eyes while Ricky kept a firm stance. Once that was settled, Ricky turned to address the Swag pack.
Ricky:"Listen up Swag Pack, I got some bad news that can't leave the confines of the Swag Pack.... Dudeface McManBro has gone AWOL. He stole my title, and the worst part is I think he might have lost his sense of style. He was wearing a Saboteur shirt and wearing anything with Saboteur on it is a definite no-no when it comes to being a certified bro. Best case situation? Dudeface is taking care of the title, but worst case? He doesn't have it. So therefor I'm putting you all on the most important mission of your lives"
Ricky then pointed to Donny J and commanded with a powerful, motivational voice.
Ricky:"Donny J, you need to use all the merch you bought from Alex Jones and look into Dudeface! I need Facebook info, address, where he sleeps, where he eats, and where is holding my title!"
Donny J, being a useless, and basically inept moron kept his mouth shut but nodded. Ricky than turned his attention to Jameson.
Ricky:"Hollywood. I'm trusting you with a big task for a big man. You need to run recon on Saboteur. I know that guy personally, and I'm gonna tell yeah. He's the most dangerous man in the world. Who knows what he is planning stealing my title and hiding it from me if that's the case. If he doesn't have the title, report back. If he does? Sit on him and call the rest of in, and I mean sit on him. Literally. He hates being sat on by fat guys."
Jameson being a fat slob was too busy chewing away at a whole turkey to speak. However like Donny J, he nodded and took in Ricky's leadership and courage. Ricky turned to Joe Mason, who was still rubbing his head in pain from the powerful strength of Ricky's slap.
Ricky:"Listen here, Joe. You're working with S.H.I.T. He's a robot, he has commands, and orders I think? I don't know, he could have taken the title when I wasn't looking or when I was blacked out. Again, I'm not sure. All I know is, you're the most expendable of this group. You suck and you smell, robots don't have noses! You shadow S.H.I.T and make sure he doesn't have that strap. If he spots you, just start mimicking what he's doing. Who knows, he might think you're a robot to. All I know, is you're on the hot seat. Get to work all of you! But before you go, bring it in."
Ricky said putting his hand in the middle with the rest of the pack doing the same.
Ricky:"Swag on three. One... Two.... Three!"
Swag Pack:"SWAG!"
The pack then split apart to handle their assignments given from their glorious leader.
Dudeface:"Jager Bombs! Jager Bombs! Jager Bombs!"
Ricky, clearly under the influence knocks his head back and pounds back not, one but both of the glasses down his gullet. When both drinks were finished Ricky raised them up and shouted proudly and shouted in a drunken slur.
Ricky:"YOLO!"
The crowd chanted happily and continued partying. The combination of music, chanting, and maybe a little bit too much alcohol caused things to start spinning. Then things went to black.
We are now taken to a cold, yet very sunny day in Georgia. However Ricky was no longer in the Nightclub we had previously saw him at, but however tied upside down by rope to a tree. Ricky actually slept pretty peacefully considering the position he was in. It wasn't until he felt a warm tinkle hit his side he stir awake. Looking to the side, he saw a homeless man peeing on the National Treasure that was Ricky's abs. Shaking helplessly like a fully alive Piñata.
Ricky:"Woah woah woah woah hold the phone you Phil Robertson looking son of a!"
The homeless guy was startled to see the shining beacon of swag light wake up.
Homeless guy: "Sorry about that, mister. Only dead people get tied up on old pissing tree here."
Ricky was rightfully confused by the strange tradition.
Ricky:"Wait you tie dead people to a... okay no, Georgia is weird. Can you cut me down from here before I get the Swag pack here and they'll--"
Ricky was then cut off with the Homeless man pulling out knife and freeing Ricky from the old pissing tree. Causing our leader of the new generation of youth to fall onto his head with a thud. In disgust, Ricky had to remove the piss stained shirt to be left standing with his rocking body and jeans from the night before. The glare from the sunlight started to bother Ricky's baby blue eyes. The perfection that were the mirrors of Ricky's soul needed to be protected. Looking about for sunglasses Ricky pointed to the homeless man, seeing the numerous sunglasses hanging from the homeless man's neck.
Ricky:"Hold up, yo. Where did you get my sunglasses?"
Homeless Man:"Oh you don't know about pissin' tree. Whatever the guy has is up for grabs."
Ricky:"Man Georgia is weird, give me back my sunglasses. I can't be seen without my sunglasses!"
While Ricky did ask, he reached in and took what he wanted and he needed. Grabbing the sunglasses and placing them onto his eyes. Shaking the cobwebs out of his head and his hair he patted his pockets for his phone and his wallet, and found nothing. Looking around, Ricky muttered.
Ricky:"Last time I party in Georgia..."
Though unfortunately for Ricky, an all too realization hit him with the force of a truck.
The championship. Where was the championship. O M G
Ricky started to panic and patted his waist, hoping the title would still be there, but it was not.
Ricky:"Oh hamburgers! I need to call the Swag Pack, ASAP. Homeless dude, you got a phone?"
The homeless dude pats his pockets and pulls out a phone that looks like Ricky's iPhone.
Ricky:"Dude, what the hell, did you steal all of my stuff?"
Homeless Man: "What, no? This is my phone. Homeless people get great phone plans."
Ricky:"Oh yeah? What's the screensaver to your phone?"
Homeless Man:"Uhmmmm Amber Warren?"
Ricky Runn:"Psych! It's a picture of me, who else? Gimmie that!"
Ricky snatches the phone back and opens up the phone and smiles at the picture of himself. Then digging into his pocket he did managed to find a conch shell. Then shouting.
Ricky:Ricky:"Swag pack. Aseeembllllllllleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"
Then blowing into the conch shell, a booming noise came from the shell. All in hopes for the Swag Pack to converge onto the sound. Ricky looks around for a moment, shrugging and saying in slight surprise.
Ricky:"Huh, that's weird. I thought that would work."
Ricky then walked away from the man and began to search for his hotel. Ricky, being a super genius and down right sexy Private Investigator starts searching his phone for clues about what happened after Ricky had blacked out. Pictures flashed onto the screen, one of them was Ricky twearking with the Governor of Georgia. Another was a picture of Ricky taking belly shots out of a girl named Georgia. Another was a picture of none other than Dudeface McManBro and his brother, Brotherjack McManBro standing over a blacked out Ricky holding the Heavyweight championship. Gritting his teeth Ricky said in shock.
Ricky:"That dastardly dastard!"
Then in surprise, the Swag pack arrived onto Ricky's location from several different locations. Jameson came busting through the doors of a buffet, Donny J came in a limo with none other than Phil Robertson. Who both stopped to wave at each other before Phil's limo sped off. Then Joe Mason came with a parachute. Everyone stopped surprised with Ricky saying to the Political Correcter.
Ricky:"Um, what the hell were you doing Joe Mason?"
Joe Mason:"Oh well, golly I was trying out a new gimmick, and since you weren't a daredevil anymore I--"
Ricky than slapped Joe across the back of the head and saying firmly.
Ricky:"No! We don't do that! Stop that! Stop that right now!"
Joe Mason gasped and rubbed the back of his head in pain. Looking up at Ricky with a pleading look in his eyes while Ricky kept a firm stance. Once that was settled, Ricky turned to address the Swag pack.
Ricky:"Listen up Swag Pack, I got some bad news that can't leave the confines of the Swag Pack.... Dudeface McManBro has gone AWOL. He stole my title, and the worst part is I think he might have lost his sense of style. He was wearing a Saboteur shirt and wearing anything with Saboteur on it is a definite no-no when it comes to being a certified bro. Best case situation? Dudeface is taking care of the title, but worst case? He doesn't have it. So therefor I'm putting you all on the most important mission of your lives"
Ricky then pointed to Donny J and commanded with a powerful, motivational voice.
Ricky:"Donny J, you need to use all the merch you bought from Alex Jones and look into Dudeface! I need Facebook info, address, where he sleeps, where he eats, and where is holding my title!"
Donny J, being a useless, and basically inept moron kept his mouth shut but nodded. Ricky than turned his attention to Jameson.
Ricky:"Hollywood. I'm trusting you with a big task for a big man. You need to run recon on Saboteur. I know that guy personally, and I'm gonna tell yeah. He's the most dangerous man in the world. Who knows what he is planning stealing my title and hiding it from me if that's the case. If he doesn't have the title, report back. If he does? Sit on him and call the rest of in, and I mean sit on him. Literally. He hates being sat on by fat guys."
Jameson being a fat slob was too busy chewing away at a whole turkey to speak. However like Donny J, he nodded and took in Ricky's leadership and courage. Ricky turned to Joe Mason, who was still rubbing his head in pain from the powerful strength of Ricky's slap.
Ricky:"Listen here, Joe. You're working with S.H.I.T. He's a robot, he has commands, and orders I think? I don't know, he could have taken the title when I wasn't looking or when I was blacked out. Again, I'm not sure. All I know is, you're the most expendable of this group. You suck and you smell, robots don't have noses! You shadow S.H.I.T and make sure he doesn't have that strap. If he spots you, just start mimicking what he's doing. Who knows, he might think you're a robot to. All I know, is you're on the hot seat. Get to work all of you! But before you go, bring it in."
Ricky said putting his hand in the middle with the rest of the pack doing the same.
Ricky:"Swag on three. One... Two.... Three!"
Swag Pack:"SWAG!"
The pack then split apart to handle their assignments given from their glorious leader.
Infinity
Starving (Martial) Artist
--------------------------------
The Aria, Penthouse Suite
Las Vegas, Nevada
Present Day
--------------------------------
Alexis is walking down the long carpeted hallway with a curious look in her eyes as the sound of a heavy pounding echoes passed her. Her hand gently caresses the wall as she makes her way closer to the source of the noise, which doesnt seem to frighten her in the least. She turns a corner at the end and soon comes to a door at the end of the hallway. Alexis opens it to enter what is quite obviously a gym located in this penthouse. On one side of the room are some cardio machines like a treadmill, stationary bike, and stair master. On the other side are the free weights, bench press, leg press, and butterfly machine. Along the wall furthest from Alexis is the area of the room with all the fight equipment. A speed bag hangs along the wall, its leather beaten and tattered from years of abuse. Similarly, a black defeated looking heavy bag hangs from the ceiling, swaying erratically from its squeaky chain.
It is here that we find Vega. Hes wearing just a pair of black spandex shorts with the white Tapout logo on the rear with taped fists and ankles. His hair drips down passed his face and his body glistens from the sweat hes built up thus far. With the back of his taped fist, he wipes some sweat off his forehead before punishing the heavy bag with a sudden and swift roundhouse kick. The impact reverberates throughout the entire room forcing Alexis to clinch her body a little tightly. She watches intently as Vega unleashes a quick barrage of right kick after kick after kick, all in succession, with perfect form. Her eyes seem to fixate on Vegas leg as it mercilessly pounds the faded black leather covering the poor heavy bag. Her face relates the look of pain, almost as if she is feeling the kicks herself in some small way. Cringing, she makes her way closer to Vega, who seems too enthralled with the heavy bag he is victimizing to realize Alexis is even there.
I cant believe youre at it again.
Vega suddenly stops his attack and looks over his shoulder to finally realize Alexis presence. He raises his eyebrows slightly, showing just a small hint of being taken of guard momentarily. Vega casually brushes his hear away from his face, tilting his head to crack his neck somewhat loudly in the process. This causes Alexis to cringe once again. Vega, seemingly disinterested in anything Alexis has to say right now, feigns interest by indulging her with an inquiry.
What was that?
I said I cant believe youre at it again.
At what?
This. Youve been in this room for the better part of the last two weeks. It seems like all you do is eat, sleep, train, and repeat as of late. You wake up, eat some nasty, healthy shake you spend the entire day and night in this room either running, or lifting, or hitting the bags. Then you shower and go to sleep. I mean, shit Vega you didnt even go out for New Years Eve. Ive known you almost 20 years and you never miss an opportunity to celebrate, especially New Years. I had to get out of here. I went out and celebrated without you and I dont think you ever even realized I was gone. Whats going on with you, Vega?
Vega furrows his eyebrows, looking around him briefly before replying with a quizzical look upon his face.
What day is it?
What?
What day of the week is it ?
Hesitant at first, Alexis replies with a confused tone in her voice.
Tuesday
Good. I have more time.
More time? Time for what?
For training.
More training? You can't be serious.
Vega doesn't reply. Instead, he reverts his attention back to the heavy bag and blasts it with another stiff roundhouse kick. The impact startles Alexis, causing her to flinch. Frustrated, she raises her voice to gain Vega's attention.
Hey! I'm trying to talk to you. Can you focus for a second?
Vega's eyes dart back towards Alexis. You can see him fighting back the urge to lash out, instead he replies with an ice cold tone.
Focus? You want me to focus, Alexis? Don't you see? That's what this is all about... focus. Look at me, Alexis. Look at what I'm doing. This is me... focused. I'm as focused as I'm ever been.
Focused? On what?
On success, Alexis! On success! I need to succeed in this company. And for one to succeed in this company, one needs to never lose his God damn focus! Not for one God damn second! It's the angles, Alexis...
Vega points at his eyes and then with the same fingers points outward diagonally to his left and right as he darts his eyes from side to side in a shifty manner.
...it's all about the angles. I used to be so good at seeing them. Every angle for every situation, I had it mapped out in my head. Being one step ahead of my enemies, it's what I've always been best at. I have an obsession with success. I need to be good at whatever it is that I do. That's just me. I get obsessive over things. It happened to me in this damn place. This company gave me a shot at the ugliest, most tattered beat up looking belt in the promotion... the Mayhem Title. So, I won it... and I became obsessed with it. I needed to hold that belt, needed to defend it. And not just that, but I needed to be the best to have ever defended it. I needed to be the best Mayhem Champion of all time. If not, then in my eyes, my reign would have been a failure.
Well, congratulations because you did it.
Yeah. I know.
So, now what?
Now what? Now, I want more. They took the Mayhem Title away from me... so now I need something more. Something bigger. At "Apocalypse," I had my chance to get it. All I had to do was defeat Saboteur and I'd be granted a shot at the World Title. Now, it's that masked waste of skin that gets the spot in that match, and I'm left on the outside looking in. I thought I had the match won. The bell rang, the referee declared me the winner via submission... so I celebrated my victory. Next thing I knew, Big Dave was re-starting the match, I run towards Saboteur, he nails me with the Death Blow, and it's all over. Vega loses. Again.
You know, it used to be rare that you'd see me lose. While I was champ, I went month after month without losing a single match. Now? I'm facing back to back losses to Blade and Saboteur. Some people would say that there is nothing to be ashamed of. But for me? It's catastrophic. I've lost focus as of late, Alexis. Focus. So you see, when you ask me to focus... it's damn near insulting to me. Because, this is Vega at his most dangerous. I have my target in sight. That target is Barbosa, and the WZCW World Championship. And unlike you, I eliminate my targets.
What is that supposed to mean?
You know exactly what it means, Alexis.
Alexis gets closer to Vega with an angry look in her eyes, and defiant tone in her voice.
No, I don't think I do. Care to clarify?
You know damn well the reason your own agency put out a hit on you was because you failed to eliminate your target in '92.
What does Colombia have to do with any of this?
It's all about focus, Alexis. And you lost it.
I did what was right.
You sure about that?
--------------------------------
Medellin, Colombia
1992
--------------------------------
A man in his mid forties is barreling down a cobblestone street, shoving innocent bystanders out of his way. Just a few moments later, just as the bystanders begin to regain their bearings, a younger Alexis runs down the street with a gun in one hand, waving with her other hand for the people to get out of her way.
Move! Muévete!
Alexis runs passed them, but without warning, the sound of a gunshot blasting pierces the air. Some people freeze, some people duck and cover. Alexis, assuming the gun shot was aimed at her, instinctively covers up as she slides down onto the ground. As she looks up, she sees her target standing a considerable distance away, holding a smoking gun aimed in her direction. Eventually, he turns around and begins running. Alexis looks over at her left arm and notices blood dripping from her bicep. Just then, some woman close by yells out.
Ay Dios mio!
Alexis gets to her feet shaking off gunshot wound, paying no mind to the frantic woman. However, just as she goes to start running after her target once again to continue pursuit, something catches her eye. She looks to the side and sees the woman that was yelling running passed her. Alexis turns around to see the body of a young child laying on the ground just a couple of feet behind her.
The young boy lays there, motionless. The woman runs up to the child and grabs him with both her arms. She positions her hand behind his head, and instantly, it is covered in blood. It drops from his head, to her hands, and down to the ground where it slips between the cobblestones on the street. At that moment, Alexis looks down at the bullet wound on her left bicep, and then back towards the little boy, realizing what has just happened. She abandons her pursuit, runs towards the hysterical mother and wounded child, and reaches for her radio as she calls for immediate help.
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Present Day
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Yes, I'm sure what I did was right.
Oh come on, Alexis. The kid caught a bullet in the face, you knew he was as good as dead. But you felt guilty. You felt guilty because you knew the bullet was meant for you. Hell, you even kinda dodged it a little bit. It went right through your arm and into his head. He was dead right then and there, and you knew it. But instead, you stayed with him, called for help, and waited until the ambulance came to take away his lifeless body. Meanwhile, you let Vicente Noriega get away.
It was the right thing to do.
Was it really though? You know, I've never actually brought this up but by your definition of right, it seems like saving innocent lives is high on your stupid little list of morality. So, tell me Alexis... do you know how many more people Noriega killed after that incident? What was the final report once they finally got him a couple of years later, like 2 dozen more people? Found guilty if over two dozen murders. And that's only what he was convicted of, who knows how many other deaths he's responsible for.
Why are you telling me this?
Because, you keep saying you did what was right. But you didn't. Over two dozen innocent people lost their lives because on that day, in that moment... you lost focus. You let a high ranking cartel member get away after spending years under cover. You know as well as I do that screwing up that hit is the biggest reason why your own agency put out a hit on you. It didn't help that your last name also happens to be Escobar. Everyone thought you had gone rogue, but just couldn't prove it. So your own people in Inteprol got the C.I.A. to do their dirty work. And I was chosen to eliminate you. And now, look at us. You couldn't eliminate your target. You lost focus. And if it weren't for my rare moment of compassion, you'd be dead right now.
So, what about you then? You could have pulled the trigger. You could have killed me in '94, but you didn't You admit that you felt compassion for me... so you're capable of losing focus, too.
I never said I wasn't, Alexis. I just never make the same mistake twice.
So, sparing my life was a mistake?
Vega almost does a double take, staring at Alexis with a questioning glare. Alexis looks angry, almost uncomfortable, before Vega breaks the tension with a cocky laugh.
Of course not. You've proven to be very useful. And I'm going to need you to continue proving it from here on out. You're focus is as important as my own. Together, we can be unstoppable. This week they've got me in a tag team match with Ricky Runn against Saboteur again, and S.H.I.T. My goal is the World Title... a goal Ricky just failed at achieving at "Apocalypse." Having him as a partner is like rubbing my face in a steaming pile of crap. I feel as if I'm being taunted. I swear, I think I'm going to hit Runn with the Kill Shot and leave him in the middle of that ring. He's not worthy of my partnership. Hell, nobody is. But, I know I need to start turning some heads in my direction again. So if taking out Saboteur and S.H.I.T. will get me that, then so be it.
It seems like the world has already forgotten that I am the man who defeated Titus twice in a row. It didn't matter whether he called himself Titus or Red Mask, I disposed of him just as easily as I've disposed all of my targets. Because, remember kiddo... other than you, all of my targets, have fallen. That's what separates people like you from people like me. You... you believe in the good in life. You believe in the good in people. That's why you stopped to try and help that little boy. But me?
Vega laughs to himself as he shakes his head and brushes some stray hair away from his face.
People like me? We don't believe in good. Some of us not anymore, some of us not ever. Good? It don't exist. There's no right or wrong. Evil... it isn't really a thing either. This moral compass people try and live by? It doesn't compute for people like me. Some people have a real hard time doing something society has deemed as "wrong." They don't steal, they don't cheat, and they certainly don't kill. They respect this code. They are good, moral people. But to people like us? They're all just victims.
Survival of the fittest. This is Darwinism at it's best, kiddo. You believe in "good," and that's nice. That's fine. I like that about you, I really do. But me? People... they call me evil. I'll take that. I embrace it even. If I don't believe in "good," then what's the harm in being "evil?" People like Saboteur... people like Ricky Runn... they don't see the world like I see it. I leave people like them broken and lifeless by the wayside. S.H.I.T. on the other hand, his mind may be so far gone that it possesses an admirable ability to inflict severe amounts of pain on his victims. It should be fun finally getting in the ring with that lost mind, I look forward to it.
Whatever happens, I know one thing. Vega will be the only one walking away from this match. I am focused, and my trail of victims will begin again.
Vega turns back towards the heavy bag and goes back to unleashing a barrage of kicks. Alexis stands there, shaking her head as she rubs her face with her hand as the scene comes to an end.
- Status
