Post by Lord Hastings on Mar 22, 2012 13:13:09 GMT -5
Donovan walks through the front door of the Dungeon of Pain ™, going right up to the front desk and the receptionist, former matriarch of Global Impact Wrestling, Old Lady Levene.
OLL: Good morning, young man.
Hastings: Mum. Any messages?
OLL: No, but the accepted applicants have all arrived. Christopher is with them at the main ring.
Hastings: Excellent. Hold all my calls.
Owen starts to walk by, in work-out clothes and sweating, with a towel over his shoulders.
Hastings: Better yet, have Owen hold them. He’s been working out, he can carry a big load now.
Owen: I’m working out because at Rising Sun, I was assaulted, dragged up to the roof, and dropped off a building into a vat of black paint.
Hastings: Yes, I did hear that you got ref-napped and bundled up on the roof within seconds of the match you officiated ending. That was impressively quick, I would have thought you’d at least put up a fight, spit in somebody’s eye or something. You’re going to shower, right?
Owen: Of course, as soon as I’m done with my workout.
Hastings: Good, I would have thought you would have wanted to get that paint off by now.
Owen: I…what? I already-
Calypso: We’re ready for you.
Calypso is on the opposite side of the lobby, looking impatiently at Donovan.
Hastings: The peasants can wait a moment longer.
Calypso: Hrm.
He nods to Old Lady Levene.
Hastings: Mum.
She smiles back at him, and Donovan walks with Calypso down a hallway.
Calypso: Where did you dig her up, anyway?
Hastings: Old Bags are people too.
Calypso: Whatever.
They walk into a workout room with a full-sized ring in the center. There are several rows of chairs facing the ring on one side. Chris approaches the pair, holding a clipboard.
Hastings: What do we have?
Chris: Well, they’re raw, but I’m sure you can work with it.
Hastings: Let’s hear it.
Chris points towards an attentive looking youth sitting in the second row.
Chris: Hiroki Sebaseragi, former assistant to Prince Rudo. Discarded like the rest of the Circle of Influence after Edwards unmasked, needs a complete repackaging before he can have a chance at re-debuting and having a solo career.
Hastings: Might have some inside knowledge on Edwards. That’s useful.
Chris: Yes, I thought so.
Chris nods towards a balding gentlemen in his late twenties or early thirties sitting in the third row.
Chris: Todd Magenta, former referee of the Lock Wrestling Federation, which apparently had a pre-requisite that to be an official you had to be named after a color or a shape. Magenta had a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, many of his matches ending controversially after he got knocked out one way or another.
Hastings: I remember him. Probably was the one that knocked him out once or twice.
Calypso: Lovely.
Chris nods towards a smoking hot urban professional with jet black hair and impeccable make-up.
Chris: Joy Asiago, sports marketer, highly motivated and tries to get her hands in every pot she can. Interviewed previously with Edwards for an assistant position but was not accepted. No idea what interest she could have in being here.
Hastings: We offer much more than simple in-ring training. We’re all about brand development, and clearly as good as she might be, she still needs development in this area. You said she met with Edwards?
Chris: Yeah, interviewed with him for a job.
Hastings: Might be worth pumping her for information then.
Calypso: HRM.
Hastings: Chris would do the pumping, of course.
Calypso: Excuse me, I’m going to go hit something.
Calypso heads off down a hallway.
Hastings: Continue.
Chris checks his clipboard and then nods towards an obese man sitting in the far seat of the last row, looking out a window.
Chris: Tate Levene, grandson of the walking corpse you have sitting at the front desk. Has done nothing with his life since the Roberts incident a few years back, likely only here because his grandmother is making him come.
Donovan chuckles.
Chris: Laughing about the Roberts thing?
Hastings: Nah, I just think fat people are funny when they jiggle.
Chris: That’s awful.
Hastings: What else we got?
Chris: Sitting front and center…
Wait for it.
Chris: Paul Cockatoo.
Hastings: Who’s that?
Chris: Seriously?
Hastings: I may as well be. Directionless twerp, glorified pushover, needs a complete overhaul.
Chris: Which is our entire purpose.
Hastings: Something like that, yes. But I agree, he’s the ideal student.
Chris: You know he used train at the Dragon’s Cave.
Hastings: So did you.
Chris: Well, yes.
Hastings: If you’re worried he’s a mole then just keep an eye on him. Even that can have it’s value. Is that all?
Chris: Maybe.
Hastings: Maybe?
Chris: Well, I’m not sure if he counts.
Chris points to the back wall, where TyvoolZ is sleeping on the floor.
Chris: I mean, he was handcuffed to your front porch, so whether Cal brought him or he somehow got here on his own, I don’t know.
Hastings: Works for me.
Donovan climbs into the ring and leans on the ropes, looking out to his “students” all of whom give him their attention, except for TyvoolZ, who is sleeping, and Tate, who looks kind of bored.
Hastings: Welcome to the Dungeon of Pain, soon to be world-renowned for taking a group of peasants such as yourselves, and training and preparing you to be proper min…Entertainment Professionals. Soon, under my leadership and guidance, you too can enjoy the success such as that experienced by “The Black Knight” Chris Peterson, or “The Mistress of Pain” Calypso Desmona, already a legendary cooperative team after only months of working together. Twice have I headlined Horizons, twice have I been the UGWC World Heavyweight Champion, and one day, with hard work and guidance, you might get to be in a number one contender match for it, or something. Ultimately it will be known that I, the Lord, is a superior mentor of the premiere gymnasium and training academy in the world today.
He smiles as he overlooks his new pupils.
Hastings: It is inevitable.
OLL: Good morning, young man.
Hastings: Mum. Any messages?
OLL: No, but the accepted applicants have all arrived. Christopher is with them at the main ring.
Hastings: Excellent. Hold all my calls.
Owen starts to walk by, in work-out clothes and sweating, with a towel over his shoulders.
Hastings: Better yet, have Owen hold them. He’s been working out, he can carry a big load now.
Owen: I’m working out because at Rising Sun, I was assaulted, dragged up to the roof, and dropped off a building into a vat of black paint.
Hastings: Yes, I did hear that you got ref-napped and bundled up on the roof within seconds of the match you officiated ending. That was impressively quick, I would have thought you’d at least put up a fight, spit in somebody’s eye or something. You’re going to shower, right?
Owen: Of course, as soon as I’m done with my workout.
Hastings: Good, I would have thought you would have wanted to get that paint off by now.
Owen: I…what? I already-
Calypso: We’re ready for you.
Calypso is on the opposite side of the lobby, looking impatiently at Donovan.
Hastings: The peasants can wait a moment longer.
Calypso: Hrm.
He nods to Old Lady Levene.
Hastings: Mum.
She smiles back at him, and Donovan walks with Calypso down a hallway.
Calypso: Where did you dig her up, anyway?
Hastings: Old Bags are people too.
Calypso: Whatever.
They walk into a workout room with a full-sized ring in the center. There are several rows of chairs facing the ring on one side. Chris approaches the pair, holding a clipboard.
Hastings: What do we have?
Chris: Well, they’re raw, but I’m sure you can work with it.
Hastings: Let’s hear it.
Chris points towards an attentive looking youth sitting in the second row.
Chris: Hiroki Sebaseragi, former assistant to Prince Rudo. Discarded like the rest of the Circle of Influence after Edwards unmasked, needs a complete repackaging before he can have a chance at re-debuting and having a solo career.
Hastings: Might have some inside knowledge on Edwards. That’s useful.
Chris: Yes, I thought so.
Chris nods towards a balding gentlemen in his late twenties or early thirties sitting in the third row.
Chris: Todd Magenta, former referee of the Lock Wrestling Federation, which apparently had a pre-requisite that to be an official you had to be named after a color or a shape. Magenta had a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, many of his matches ending controversially after he got knocked out one way or another.
Hastings: I remember him. Probably was the one that knocked him out once or twice.
Calypso: Lovely.
Chris nods towards a smoking hot urban professional with jet black hair and impeccable make-up.
Chris: Joy Asiago, sports marketer, highly motivated and tries to get her hands in every pot she can. Interviewed previously with Edwards for an assistant position but was not accepted. No idea what interest she could have in being here.
Hastings: We offer much more than simple in-ring training. We’re all about brand development, and clearly as good as she might be, she still needs development in this area. You said she met with Edwards?
Chris: Yeah, interviewed with him for a job.
Hastings: Might be worth pumping her for information then.
Calypso: HRM.
Hastings: Chris would do the pumping, of course.
Calypso: Excuse me, I’m going to go hit something.
Calypso heads off down a hallway.
Hastings: Continue.
Chris checks his clipboard and then nods towards an obese man sitting in the far seat of the last row, looking out a window.
Chris: Tate Levene, grandson of the walking corpse you have sitting at the front desk. Has done nothing with his life since the Roberts incident a few years back, likely only here because his grandmother is making him come.
Donovan chuckles.
Chris: Laughing about the Roberts thing?
Hastings: Nah, I just think fat people are funny when they jiggle.
Chris: That’s awful.
Hastings: What else we got?
Chris: Sitting front and center…
Wait for it.
Chris: Paul Cockatoo.
Hastings: Who’s that?
Chris: Seriously?
Hastings: I may as well be. Directionless twerp, glorified pushover, needs a complete overhaul.
Chris: Which is our entire purpose.
Hastings: Something like that, yes. But I agree, he’s the ideal student.
Chris: You know he used train at the Dragon’s Cave.
Hastings: So did you.
Chris: Well, yes.
Hastings: If you’re worried he’s a mole then just keep an eye on him. Even that can have it’s value. Is that all?
Chris: Maybe.
Hastings: Maybe?
Chris: Well, I’m not sure if he counts.
Chris points to the back wall, where TyvoolZ is sleeping on the floor.
Chris: I mean, he was handcuffed to your front porch, so whether Cal brought him or he somehow got here on his own, I don’t know.
Hastings: Works for me.
Donovan climbs into the ring and leans on the ropes, looking out to his “students” all of whom give him their attention, except for TyvoolZ, who is sleeping, and Tate, who looks kind of bored.
Hastings: Welcome to the Dungeon of Pain, soon to be world-renowned for taking a group of peasants such as yourselves, and training and preparing you to be proper min…Entertainment Professionals. Soon, under my leadership and guidance, you too can enjoy the success such as that experienced by “The Black Knight” Chris Peterson, or “The Mistress of Pain” Calypso Desmona, already a legendary cooperative team after only months of working together. Twice have I headlined Horizons, twice have I been the UGWC World Heavyweight Champion, and one day, with hard work and guidance, you might get to be in a number one contender match for it, or something. Ultimately it will be known that I, the Lord, is a superior mentor of the premiere gymnasium and training academy in the world today.
He smiles as he overlooks his new pupils.
Hastings: It is inevitable.
x2
2013, '18, '23 
2013 