Post by Deleted on Jan 4, 2013 15:50:48 GMT -6
La Jolla, California
The Apartment: 1:42 PM
Weather: Sunny
“Man, Boardwalk looks fucking stellar right now.” I said as I overlooked the impressive display. It was something truly from God. There’s no telling how much of His craftsmanship went into it, but it had to be quite a lot.”
“You have one house.” Silver Squid said sternly. He picked up the dice and rolled them. The Monopoly board had been keeping us occupied for the better part of the day.
“Well, I’ll be busting that ass in the house. Feel me?”
“No, I’m not a severely lonely woman with incredibly low standards.” Ole Squidward said while moving his dog across the board.
We always bantered like this. Our competiveness was well documented, especially between each other. It seemed like we were always fighting over something or trying to best each other whenever the opportunity presented itself. I could usually take everything he said, but what came out of his mouth sent me over the edge.
“Wooo! Free Parking!” Silver Squid squealed like Ned Beatty.
I dumped that shit right over. I sent the pieces and board flying into the couch. Squid snapped. We started wrestling on the floor.
“GREG HOME.” Greg’s loud, scratchy voice exclaimed from the front door. He bounced on in, wearing a Tony the Tiger tee and cargo shorts. His trademark bicycle helmet and cocked eyes rounded out his appearance.
“He’s home?” Squid immediately pushed me into the carpet and got to his feet. I followed suit.
“His lease was up and I told him to come live with us. I mean, how lucky are we? Gregs don’t just grow on trees, you know?”
“TREES ARE OUTSIDE.” Greg nodded after sharing this tidbit of wisdom.
Squidy looked like he was about to retort, but must have noticed the enormous size of my penis and gave in. “Whatever, dude. I’m not even going to try to figure this one out.”
“Sweet. We would get so much more stuff accomplished if you didn’t.” I scolded with a fist.
“Do you want me to kick your ass, *****?” Squid said, tilting his large silver dome.
“Do you want me to bust out a VICTORY ROLL?” I retorted.
That was still a sore spot with Squid. He just shook his head and noticed that Greg looked like he had to pee. “What’s wrong, Greg?”
“GREG HAVE NEWS.”
“What’s the news?”
“COMIC-CON.”
-------------------------
La Jolla, California
Comic Con ‘13: 2:15 PM
Weather: Who gives a shit
We hadn’t actually made it inside the convention center yet. We were decked out in our best costumes. Apparently I was an octopus and Silver Squid went as a silver squid. Greg had painted four little stars on his helmet and apparently was something called a dragonball. Whatever the case may have been, we were about to enter COMIC CON.
“Character and anime, please?” An incredibly geeky kid said at the door. He held a clipboard and had thick, thick glasses on his face.
“Who the fuck is Anna May?” I looked to Silver Squid. He shrugged his shoulders.
“It’s anime. This is an important part of COMIC CON.” He retorted. I could see him getting a little upset already.
“Man, we’re just trying to take our friend out for a good time.” Squid spoke up and patted Greg on the arm.
“GREG LIKE COMIC CON.” Greg testified.
Then I had to do it. You know me.
“Man, fuck anime.” I blurted out.
The expression on the geek’s face went from offended to super pissed. His weak eyes grew wet and wild with rage. He reached down to his belt and picked up his walkie-talkie. “We have a Code 69.” He paused and giggled, but quickly corrected himself. “No time. Repeat, Code 69. Send the Ginyus.”
“Oh no.” Silver Squid groaned. He must have known what a Ginyu was.
Before too long, a detail of five weird looking things came out of the convention center and were standing in front of. They all had the same goofy costume on and absolutely ridiculous costumes.
“We are the Ginyu Force!” They started dancing or something. I don’t know. I was in a stupor.
“BURTER, JEICE, GULDO, RECOOME AND CAPTAIN GINYU!” They shouted at their separate parts.
“Look, you low level scum. I am Captain Ginyu and that means, I am captain of security for COMIC CON.”
“COMIC CON.” Greg repeated in a shout.
“Now you boys have disrespected COMIC CON and are not getting in. I would recommend you three getting in your spaceship and getting the hell off our planet.”
“You mean, COMIC CON?” I said. I also had no idea why we were all shouting COMIC CON, but I went along with it.
“So you made up an entire planet? That’s only something somebody gay would do.” Silver Squid remarked.
“Ultra gay.” I added onto the burn plate.
“ENOUGH. Let us fight.” Captain Ginyu instructed Guldo and Recoome to the front.
“GREG SMASH.” Greg shouted and charged the entire group. However he missed them all and hit the wall. He was knocked out instantly.
“I guess we’re down to two, huh?” Silver Squid said with a hint of amusement in his tone.
“This is so dumb.” But before I could get another word out, Guldo was biting my ankle.
Thus it began.
We fought these five losers for about three minutes. They weren’t really super villains we found out. They were just a couple of awkward and geeky teenagers. But boy, we whopped their asses something fierce.
When it was done, they were laying sprawled out on the ground. Squid and I stood with our arms crossed. I went over and helped Greg up.
“I think you better let us in.” Silver Squid threatened the geeky kid with a clipboard.
“Right away, sir.” He moved past and held the door open for us. “Welcome to COMIC CON.”
So we walked into the light, into the unknown.
And boy it was the gayest shit ever.
Promo Vignette #5
RIMAC ARENA
A very grumpy Orange Octopus stands in his familiar spot in front of the cheesy Exodus Pro banner. However there’s a new face flanked by his side; Special Greg. Greg is fuming at the mouth and banging his large noggin against the banner.
“As you can see, Special Greg is a little perturbed.”
GREG: GREG WEARS A TURBAN.
Octopus can’t help but to nod. Greg starts manufacturing a turban out of his poop on top of his head.
“I’m also a little irritated. It’s starting to get on my nerves that nobody in this raggedy promotion is giving me my props.”
GREG: I AM A PROP, HUH.
“Indeed, Greg.”
Greg starts parading around behind the Orange Octopus in something not unlike a march.
“There’s not a wrestler in this place that doesn’t an enormous debt to the Orange Octopus and Silver Squid. We are the only individuals with our fingers on the pulse. We are the only professionals in a sea of amateurs and wannabes.”
GREG: HERE’S AN EXCUSE TO SPACE YOUR PARAGRAPH.
“Your orange pal is at the end of his tentacles. I’m not throwing my dick at Fiona Rourke; I’m not playing spades with Omar Wise. Hell, I’m not even on the programs or merchandise. Do you know how much an Orange Octopus fanny pack would go for on EBay?”
GREG: FANNY PACKS RHYMES WITH TRANNY TRACKS.
Greg starts bursting out laughing/screaming. The thought of tranny tracks rippled through his heavily medicated body.
“I understand why though. I’m not somebody to not offer an explanation or remedy. Jon Collins is too busy living off a career that even Special Greg could have duplicated. And Rufus? Rufus Frost is only half the octopus that I am. The only thing he’s even thrown his dick at is mediocrity.”
GREG: SHOES GO ON YOUR FEET.
“Last time I checked, Greg.”
Tight shot on Greg’s orange sneakers.
“Instead of getting promoted in the way that an octopus of my caliber should, I have to meander in the dirt with some fellow named Zortalk. I mean, really? Seriously, really?”
The Orange Octopus shakes his orange head. Greg starts shuffling his feet.
“I am the octopus that ran Kallie Karter out of the promotion. She lost to me and then tucked her massive tits in her bra and got the fuck out. Does anybody say “Thanks, Octopus. Her assault on the English language had to be stopped. You are a sexy, sexy sea dweller.” No! I get nothing of the sort. I’m forced to open cards while some ridiculous tournament gets top billing. What kind of nonsense is that? I’m the one putting the people in the arena. I’m the one hurting buttholes. I’m the one serving Collins and Frost all the humble pie they can handle. I AM AN OCTOPUS.”
The Orange Octopus just screams. Greg looks scared, and then just starts screaming in unison. It’s quite the sight.
GREG: SCREAM, SCREAM.
“And that’s exactly what Fiona is going to be doing. You hear me, Jon Collins? If I don’t start getting the respect I deserve, I’m going to track her down and throw, MY GOD! TELL ‘EM, GREG.
Orange Octopus channels Kartermania and starts hulking up.
GREG: He’s probably going say he’s going to throw his dick at her.
“Yup.”
GREG: I LIKE OUR ROUTINE.
“Zortalk; you are nothing but another Kallie Karter in my world. I know exactly what the higher ups were thinking when they booked our match. They thought these two are similar and funny and will make people LOL. WELL, I AIN’T LOLING.”
GREG: HE AIN’T LIKE EMOTICONS EITHER.
“Damn right, Greg. You are nothing but a rash on my octo-nads, Zortalk. And I’m going to be a hot iron on January 13th. I’m going to burn you right off and knock you down before you even get up. This is my world, flunkie.”
Greg quiets down. Orange Octopus leans in, taking up the entire frame.
“But hey, there’s always Space Egypt.”
CUT.
The Apartment: 1:42 PM
Weather: Sunny
“Man, Boardwalk looks fucking stellar right now.” I said as I overlooked the impressive display. It was something truly from God. There’s no telling how much of His craftsmanship went into it, but it had to be quite a lot.”
“You have one house.” Silver Squid said sternly. He picked up the dice and rolled them. The Monopoly board had been keeping us occupied for the better part of the day.
“Well, I’ll be busting that ass in the house. Feel me?”
“No, I’m not a severely lonely woman with incredibly low standards.” Ole Squidward said while moving his dog across the board.
We always bantered like this. Our competiveness was well documented, especially between each other. It seemed like we were always fighting over something or trying to best each other whenever the opportunity presented itself. I could usually take everything he said, but what came out of his mouth sent me over the edge.
“Wooo! Free Parking!” Silver Squid squealed like Ned Beatty.
I dumped that shit right over. I sent the pieces and board flying into the couch. Squid snapped. We started wrestling on the floor.
“GREG HOME.” Greg’s loud, scratchy voice exclaimed from the front door. He bounced on in, wearing a Tony the Tiger tee and cargo shorts. His trademark bicycle helmet and cocked eyes rounded out his appearance.
“He’s home?” Squid immediately pushed me into the carpet and got to his feet. I followed suit.
“His lease was up and I told him to come live with us. I mean, how lucky are we? Gregs don’t just grow on trees, you know?”
“TREES ARE OUTSIDE.” Greg nodded after sharing this tidbit of wisdom.
Squidy looked like he was about to retort, but must have noticed the enormous size of my penis and gave in. “Whatever, dude. I’m not even going to try to figure this one out.”
“Sweet. We would get so much more stuff accomplished if you didn’t.” I scolded with a fist.
“Do you want me to kick your ass, *****?” Squid said, tilting his large silver dome.
“Do you want me to bust out a VICTORY ROLL?” I retorted.
That was still a sore spot with Squid. He just shook his head and noticed that Greg looked like he had to pee. “What’s wrong, Greg?”
“GREG HAVE NEWS.”
“What’s the news?”
“COMIC-CON.”
-------------------------
La Jolla, California
Comic Con ‘13: 2:15 PM
Weather: Who gives a shit
We hadn’t actually made it inside the convention center yet. We were decked out in our best costumes. Apparently I was an octopus and Silver Squid went as a silver squid. Greg had painted four little stars on his helmet and apparently was something called a dragonball. Whatever the case may have been, we were about to enter COMIC CON.
“Character and anime, please?” An incredibly geeky kid said at the door. He held a clipboard and had thick, thick glasses on his face.
“Who the fuck is Anna May?” I looked to Silver Squid. He shrugged his shoulders.
“It’s anime. This is an important part of COMIC CON.” He retorted. I could see him getting a little upset already.
“Man, we’re just trying to take our friend out for a good time.” Squid spoke up and patted Greg on the arm.
“GREG LIKE COMIC CON.” Greg testified.
Then I had to do it. You know me.
“Man, fuck anime.” I blurted out.
The expression on the geek’s face went from offended to super pissed. His weak eyes grew wet and wild with rage. He reached down to his belt and picked up his walkie-talkie. “We have a Code 69.” He paused and giggled, but quickly corrected himself. “No time. Repeat, Code 69. Send the Ginyus.”
“Oh no.” Silver Squid groaned. He must have known what a Ginyu was.
Before too long, a detail of five weird looking things came out of the convention center and were standing in front of. They all had the same goofy costume on and absolutely ridiculous costumes.
“We are the Ginyu Force!” They started dancing or something. I don’t know. I was in a stupor.
“BURTER, JEICE, GULDO, RECOOME AND CAPTAIN GINYU!” They shouted at their separate parts.
“Look, you low level scum. I am Captain Ginyu and that means, I am captain of security for COMIC CON.”
“COMIC CON.” Greg repeated in a shout.
“Now you boys have disrespected COMIC CON and are not getting in. I would recommend you three getting in your spaceship and getting the hell off our planet.”
“You mean, COMIC CON?” I said. I also had no idea why we were all shouting COMIC CON, but I went along with it.
“So you made up an entire planet? That’s only something somebody gay would do.” Silver Squid remarked.
“Ultra gay.” I added onto the burn plate.
“ENOUGH. Let us fight.” Captain Ginyu instructed Guldo and Recoome to the front.
“GREG SMASH.” Greg shouted and charged the entire group. However he missed them all and hit the wall. He was knocked out instantly.
“I guess we’re down to two, huh?” Silver Squid said with a hint of amusement in his tone.
“This is so dumb.” But before I could get another word out, Guldo was biting my ankle.
Thus it began.
We fought these five losers for about three minutes. They weren’t really super villains we found out. They were just a couple of awkward and geeky teenagers. But boy, we whopped their asses something fierce.
When it was done, they were laying sprawled out on the ground. Squid and I stood with our arms crossed. I went over and helped Greg up.
“I think you better let us in.” Silver Squid threatened the geeky kid with a clipboard.
“Right away, sir.” He moved past and held the door open for us. “Welcome to COMIC CON.”
So we walked into the light, into the unknown.
And boy it was the gayest shit ever.
Promo Vignette #5
RIMAC ARENA
A very grumpy Orange Octopus stands in his familiar spot in front of the cheesy Exodus Pro banner. However there’s a new face flanked by his side; Special Greg. Greg is fuming at the mouth and banging his large noggin against the banner.
“As you can see, Special Greg is a little perturbed.”
GREG: GREG WEARS A TURBAN.
Octopus can’t help but to nod. Greg starts manufacturing a turban out of his poop on top of his head.
“I’m also a little irritated. It’s starting to get on my nerves that nobody in this raggedy promotion is giving me my props.”
GREG: I AM A PROP, HUH.
“Indeed, Greg.”
Greg starts parading around behind the Orange Octopus in something not unlike a march.
“There’s not a wrestler in this place that doesn’t an enormous debt to the Orange Octopus and Silver Squid. We are the only individuals with our fingers on the pulse. We are the only professionals in a sea of amateurs and wannabes.”
GREG: HERE’S AN EXCUSE TO SPACE YOUR PARAGRAPH.
“Your orange pal is at the end of his tentacles. I’m not throwing my dick at Fiona Rourke; I’m not playing spades with Omar Wise. Hell, I’m not even on the programs or merchandise. Do you know how much an Orange Octopus fanny pack would go for on EBay?”
GREG: FANNY PACKS RHYMES WITH TRANNY TRACKS.
Greg starts bursting out laughing/screaming. The thought of tranny tracks rippled through his heavily medicated body.
“I understand why though. I’m not somebody to not offer an explanation or remedy. Jon Collins is too busy living off a career that even Special Greg could have duplicated. And Rufus? Rufus Frost is only half the octopus that I am. The only thing he’s even thrown his dick at is mediocrity.”
GREG: SHOES GO ON YOUR FEET.
“Last time I checked, Greg.”
Tight shot on Greg’s orange sneakers.
“Instead of getting promoted in the way that an octopus of my caliber should, I have to meander in the dirt with some fellow named Zortalk. I mean, really? Seriously, really?”
The Orange Octopus shakes his orange head. Greg starts shuffling his feet.
“I am the octopus that ran Kallie Karter out of the promotion. She lost to me and then tucked her massive tits in her bra and got the fuck out. Does anybody say “Thanks, Octopus. Her assault on the English language had to be stopped. You are a sexy, sexy sea dweller.” No! I get nothing of the sort. I’m forced to open cards while some ridiculous tournament gets top billing. What kind of nonsense is that? I’m the one putting the people in the arena. I’m the one hurting buttholes. I’m the one serving Collins and Frost all the humble pie they can handle. I AM AN OCTOPUS.”
The Orange Octopus just screams. Greg looks scared, and then just starts screaming in unison. It’s quite the sight.
GREG: SCREAM, SCREAM.
“And that’s exactly what Fiona is going to be doing. You hear me, Jon Collins? If I don’t start getting the respect I deserve, I’m going to track her down and throw, MY GOD! TELL ‘EM, GREG.
Orange Octopus channels Kartermania and starts hulking up.
GREG: He’s probably going say he’s going to throw his dick at her.
“Yup.”
GREG: I LIKE OUR ROUTINE.
“Zortalk; you are nothing but another Kallie Karter in my world. I know exactly what the higher ups were thinking when they booked our match. They thought these two are similar and funny and will make people LOL. WELL, I AIN’T LOLING.”
GREG: HE AIN’T LIKE EMOTICONS EITHER.
“Damn right, Greg. You are nothing but a rash on my octo-nads, Zortalk. And I’m going to be a hot iron on January 13th. I’m going to burn you right off and knock you down before you even get up. This is my world, flunkie.”
Greg quiets down. Orange Octopus leans in, taking up the entire frame.
“But hey, there’s always Space Egypt.”
CUT.