Post by Lord Hastings on Jul 29, 2009 20:26:00 GMT -5
Peterson is sitting on the couch in the NiggaCave with his head. He is rocking slightly. Donovan strides into the room.
Hastings: Well, that went well.
Peterson looks up at him, his eyes wide.
Peterson: Have you lost your mind?
Donovan squints as he looks at him.
Hastings: Is this a trick question?
Peterson lays back on the couch.
Hastings: I stand behind everything I said on Sentinel. As the One True Lord-Chief Nigga, I am the rightful #1 contender to the Global Heavyweight Championship. Just imagine, one on one, no holds barred, both halves of Blessed Immortality battling for the gold...that's a wet dream, right there.
Peterson: That's a terrible analogy.
Hastings: Do I look like a fucking poet? I wouldn't know it.
Peterson: Seriously? Plus, you pissed off Boss P.
Hastings: Who? The midget in the penguin outfit?
Peterson: Oh my God...
Hastings: I keep telling you, Lord-Chief will suffice. Now, who've we got this week?
Peterson: Kiseragi.
Hastings: Geshundheit.
Peterson: That's your opponent. Alex Kiseragi. Former Global Champ? The Dragon?
Hastings: What, does he burninate the countryside? I'm not too concerned.
Hastings unlatches his cloak and tosses it aside before strolling off-screen into the bathroom. Peterson slaps himself on the side of his face.
Hastings: Niglet! Get me a fresh cloak?
Peterson stares towards the bathroom a moment, and then walks over and opens the closet door. The Crimson Ghost is standing inside the closet and hands him a cloak.
Peterson: Thanks.
Peterson closes the door. He takes two steps away and freezes. He looks back at the closed door.
Peterson: Uh...
The toilet is heard flushing.
Hastings: Something wrong?
The closet door opens and the Crimson Ghost walks out. The sink can be heard running.
Peterson: The Crimson Ghost just came out of the closet.
Donovan walks back in, drying his hands with a towel.
Crimson Ghost: Ahh, don't mind me, I was just looking for the ketchup...It's probably still in the ceiling fan where I put it, isn't it? Silly me...
Hastings: Who's the clown?
Peterson: It's the Crimson Ghost.
Donovan chucks the towel aside and takes the cloak, draping it over his own shoulders.
Hastings: Okay?
Peterson: You just faced him last week!
Crimson Ghost: So, ahh, where'd that Cally-chick go to? Scared her off with your relatively sane reasoning, I'll bet. Dames. *laughs* They're all the same, right? Uhh, Donny? Donny-Boy?
Donovan stares at him.
Hastings: Get rid of him.
Peterson: I'm sorry, you're going to have to lea-
Hastings: NIGLET. Get rid of him proper.
Peterson takes a deep breath.
Peterson: You mad stupid red beeotch! You had bomb git out o' here, cuz da Lord-Chief, he done had enough o' yo' mad stupid sheeit. Now don' let dat dere do' hit yo' ass on it way out, and git Sheniquah's ass back ova' heeah.
Crimson Ghost: Oh please, just shut the fuck up with that shit! YOU'RE the one acting loony, YOU were the one drove her away, and now you're over here tirading against her? Let me tell you, unless y'all are a lot less Vanilla then I give you credit for, parading around the public calling her Bitch-Cunt isn't going to bring her back.
Donovan grabs the Crimson Ghost with both hands hand slams him against the wall, pinning him there.
Hastings: You shut your fucking mouth. You have no right to talk about her.
Crimson Ghost: YOU fucked up, and until YOU realize that, put your outrageous ego aside, and realize that she is more important then your fucking "push", you are NOT going to get your world back, safe and sound. Now let go of my bones, they crinkle easily.
Crimson Ghost shrugs Donovan's arm off of his spandex. Donovan stares at him.
Hastings: C'mon, Owen. Let's go.
Peterson: But this is our room!
Donovan glares at him.
Hastings: I said let's go.
Donovan storms out of the room, with Peterson right behind him.
Crimson Ghost: Fucking imbecile, and I thought I was delusional and living in a fantasy of my own making! Still, I know how he feels. Poor guy...
Hastings: Well, that went well.
Peterson looks up at him, his eyes wide.
Peterson: Have you lost your mind?
Donovan squints as he looks at him.
Hastings: Is this a trick question?
Peterson lays back on the couch.
Hastings: I stand behind everything I said on Sentinel. As the One True Lord-Chief Nigga, I am the rightful #1 contender to the Global Heavyweight Championship. Just imagine, one on one, no holds barred, both halves of Blessed Immortality battling for the gold...that's a wet dream, right there.
Peterson: That's a terrible analogy.
Hastings: Do I look like a fucking poet? I wouldn't know it.
Peterson: Seriously? Plus, you pissed off Boss P.
Hastings: Who? The midget in the penguin outfit?
Peterson: Oh my God...
Hastings: I keep telling you, Lord-Chief will suffice. Now, who've we got this week?
Peterson: Kiseragi.
Hastings: Geshundheit.
Peterson: That's your opponent. Alex Kiseragi. Former Global Champ? The Dragon?
Hastings: What, does he burninate the countryside? I'm not too concerned.
Hastings unlatches his cloak and tosses it aside before strolling off-screen into the bathroom. Peterson slaps himself on the side of his face.
Hastings: Niglet! Get me a fresh cloak?
Peterson stares towards the bathroom a moment, and then walks over and opens the closet door. The Crimson Ghost is standing inside the closet and hands him a cloak.
Peterson: Thanks.
Peterson closes the door. He takes two steps away and freezes. He looks back at the closed door.
Peterson: Uh...
The toilet is heard flushing.
Hastings: Something wrong?
The closet door opens and the Crimson Ghost walks out. The sink can be heard running.
Peterson: The Crimson Ghost just came out of the closet.
Donovan walks back in, drying his hands with a towel.
Crimson Ghost: Ahh, don't mind me, I was just looking for the ketchup...It's probably still in the ceiling fan where I put it, isn't it? Silly me...
Hastings: Who's the clown?
Peterson: It's the Crimson Ghost.
Donovan chucks the towel aside and takes the cloak, draping it over his own shoulders.
Hastings: Okay?
Peterson: You just faced him last week!
Crimson Ghost: So, ahh, where'd that Cally-chick go to? Scared her off with your relatively sane reasoning, I'll bet. Dames. *laughs* They're all the same, right? Uhh, Donny? Donny-Boy?
Donovan stares at him.
Hastings: Get rid of him.
Peterson: I'm sorry, you're going to have to lea-
Hastings: NIGLET. Get rid of him proper.
Peterson takes a deep breath.
Peterson: You mad stupid red beeotch! You had bomb git out o' here, cuz da Lord-Chief, he done had enough o' yo' mad stupid sheeit. Now don' let dat dere do' hit yo' ass on it way out, and git Sheniquah's ass back ova' heeah.
Crimson Ghost: Oh please, just shut the fuck up with that shit! YOU'RE the one acting loony, YOU were the one drove her away, and now you're over here tirading against her? Let me tell you, unless y'all are a lot less Vanilla then I give you credit for, parading around the public calling her Bitch-Cunt isn't going to bring her back.
Donovan grabs the Crimson Ghost with both hands hand slams him against the wall, pinning him there.
Hastings: You shut your fucking mouth. You have no right to talk about her.
Crimson Ghost: YOU fucked up, and until YOU realize that, put your outrageous ego aside, and realize that she is more important then your fucking "push", you are NOT going to get your world back, safe and sound. Now let go of my bones, they crinkle easily.
Crimson Ghost shrugs Donovan's arm off of his spandex. Donovan stares at him.
Hastings: C'mon, Owen. Let's go.
Peterson: But this is our room!
Donovan glares at him.
Hastings: I said let's go.
Donovan storms out of the room, with Peterson right behind him.
Crimson Ghost: Fucking imbecile, and I thought I was delusional and living in a fantasy of my own making! Still, I know how he feels. Poor guy...
