Post by Lord Hastings on Jul 25, 2009 22:23:14 GMT -5
The image is completely black, with no sound, save a faint rocking noise. After a few moments, a door opens, and a female silhoutte stands in the doorway. She reaches to the side of the doorway, and flicks on the light.
Calypso stands in the door, and before her Donovan sits on a chair. Calypso sighs.
Calypso: I've been looking everywhere.
Donovan is squinting, as his eyes adjust to the light.
Calypso: I'm already tired and playing hide and go seek every week.
Hastings: You think this is a game?
Calypso: I'm going to be honest with you. It's time to come out of the closet.
Hastings: How dare you, of all people, insinuate that I'm-
Calypso: This is the janitor's closet.
Donovan is indeed sitting in the custodian's storeroom. All around him is cleaners and bleach and brooms and other custodial stuff, available TODAY! on the Custodian's Groupies section of GIWshopzone.com.
Calypso: Literally, you need to come out of it. What are you doing in here, anyway?
Hastings: Is it not obvious? I've been held back and brought down by Peterson for far too long now. I won't stand for it anymore. Not. One. Second. Hence.
Donovan gestures around him.
Calypso: Hence you're sitting in the closet.
Hastings: Hence I am having a sit down strike!
Calypso: In the closet.
Hastings: Sometimes things just happen naturally where they are!
Calypso: And you decided to have a sit down strike, naturally, while you were in the closet.
Hastings: I was switching the labels on his cleaners, after he insulted me last week after Battleground.
Calypso: That's very mature of you.
Hastings: So anywho, yes! I am having a sit down strike, until I am given the proper respect, or Peterson is punished!
Calypso: Because your campaign is going to get a lot of attention, here in the closet.
Hastings: Hmm...you're on to something there. I need campaign stickers. And I need to get out of the closet.
Calypso: Well, half of that is true. That's progress, for you.
Hastings: We'll take our sit down strike to the ring!
Calypso: We? Listen...
Calypso steps into the closet and sits down on his lap. She strokes his cheek.
Calypso: I have a match on Sentinel that's going to determine just how exactly that I'm going to become the Women's Champion. And I said how, because it's actually going to happen. I'm going to be a champion. Championship gold. Remember that? Those shiny things we said we wanted when we came here? I'll be very upset if that gets messed up.
She gives him a hard tap on the cheek, with a little extra force.
Calypso: Got it?
She gets off him and goes back to the door.
Calypso: Now, are you coming?
Heh.
Hastings: I always finish what I start.
Calypso: Not from my experience.
Hastings: I will indeed take this campaign to the ring, but I pledged to hold my sit down strike this evening right here, and gosh darned if I'm going to break my own word.
Calypso: Some of us have aspirations. You used to, too.
She turns to leave.
Hastings: Ut!
She turns back and sees him looking at her expectantly. She rolls her eyes, and then flicks off the light and shuts the door. The creaking sound starts up again as the scene ends.
Calypso stands in the door, and before her Donovan sits on a chair. Calypso sighs.
Calypso: I've been looking everywhere.
Donovan is squinting, as his eyes adjust to the light.
Calypso: I'm already tired and playing hide and go seek every week.
Hastings: You think this is a game?
Calypso: I'm going to be honest with you. It's time to come out of the closet.
Hastings: How dare you, of all people, insinuate that I'm-
Calypso: This is the janitor's closet.
Donovan is indeed sitting in the custodian's storeroom. All around him is cleaners and bleach and brooms and other custodial stuff, available TODAY! on the Custodian's Groupies section of GIWshopzone.com.
Calypso: Literally, you need to come out of it. What are you doing in here, anyway?
Hastings: Is it not obvious? I've been held back and brought down by Peterson for far too long now. I won't stand for it anymore. Not. One. Second. Hence.
Donovan gestures around him.
Calypso: Hence you're sitting in the closet.
Hastings: Hence I am having a sit down strike!
Calypso: In the closet.
Hastings: Sometimes things just happen naturally where they are!
Calypso: And you decided to have a sit down strike, naturally, while you were in the closet.
Hastings: I was switching the labels on his cleaners, after he insulted me last week after Battleground.
Calypso: That's very mature of you.
Hastings: So anywho, yes! I am having a sit down strike, until I am given the proper respect, or Peterson is punished!
Calypso: Because your campaign is going to get a lot of attention, here in the closet.
Hastings: Hmm...you're on to something there. I need campaign stickers. And I need to get out of the closet.
Calypso: Well, half of that is true. That's progress, for you.
Hastings: We'll take our sit down strike to the ring!
Calypso: We? Listen...
Calypso steps into the closet and sits down on his lap. She strokes his cheek.
Calypso: I have a match on Sentinel that's going to determine just how exactly that I'm going to become the Women's Champion. And I said how, because it's actually going to happen. I'm going to be a champion. Championship gold. Remember that? Those shiny things we said we wanted when we came here? I'll be very upset if that gets messed up.
She gives him a hard tap on the cheek, with a little extra force.
Calypso: Got it?
She gets off him and goes back to the door.
Calypso: Now, are you coming?
Heh.
Hastings: I always finish what I start.
Calypso: Not from my experience.
Hastings: I will indeed take this campaign to the ring, but I pledged to hold my sit down strike this evening right here, and gosh darned if I'm going to break my own word.
Calypso: Some of us have aspirations. You used to, too.
She turns to leave.
Hastings: Ut!
She turns back and sees him looking at her expectantly. She rolls her eyes, and then flicks off the light and shuts the door. The creaking sound starts up again as the scene ends.
