Post by Lord Hastings on Aug 25, 2009 19:17:18 GMT -5
Old Lady Levene emerges through the curtain after the end of Sentinel, a satisfied smile on her face. She strides through the hallway and rounds a corner, where Donovan and Calypso are standing next to the vending machine. He taps the GIW.com Title belt around her waist.
Hastings: Seriously, I think it makes for great bling.
OLL: Well, from one fine young man to another.
Donovan turns and sees her.
Hastings: Hello, mum.
OLL: Getting yourself a soda?
Hastings: Well, there isn’t anyone available to get them for me at the moment. Buy you a Pepsi One?
OLL: What a nice boy you are. Quite the evening I’m having, seeing you now, and I just saw Jackie Chan out in the ring. Let me tell you, I’d show him my kung-fu grip any day.
Calypso: *hrk!*
She covers her mouth, her eyes bulged out of her head, and quickly runs off.
OLL: Where is she off to now?
Donovan squints in the direction that Calypso ran.
Hastings: Looked like she vomited in her mouth.
OLL: Now why would she do that?
Hastings: Um…
He turns back to her.
Hastings: Well, before we came to the arena tonight, we stopped off for a quick bite at Taco Bell. Cal had herself a crunchwrap, but after she took a bite, she started opening it up. I’m all like, why would you do that? Because everybody knows, you don’t look at your burger at McDonald’s, and you don’t open up your crunchwrap at Taco Bell. It’s not good for anybody.
OLL: It’s certainly not.
Hastings: Right. So when she opened it up, she looks at me, and she’s like, “it looks like somebody vom’ed in my taco. So she takes it up, shows it to the cashier, and he’s all “I know who’s cooking today!” And they gave her a fresh one, which she ate, Hastings knows why. So that’s probably her problem.
He averts his eyes and scratches his head.
Hastings: Probably.
OLL: Well, I hope she’s okay.
Hastings: Thank you, mum.
OLL: Because we have to talk about what she did last week.
Hastings: Mum?
OLL: Glen Burke felt he needed her to be removed from your match.
Hastings: I thought his name was Bourke now?
OLL: Can you answer for this?
Hastings: Of course! Cal is now representing this company as the de facto GIW.com Champion, standing in for the bumbling disappointment, Everknight, while he learns how to behave. Now, she needs to be properly promoted, hence she needs screen time. She was just standing so the fans up in nosebleed seats could get a good look, in case they didn’t bring their binoculars with them. It’s not our fault that Burke is so distracted by her beauty that he was forced to remove her for the sake of his own concentration.
OLL: I see, of course.
Hastings: Where might you be off to?
OLL: I need to go speak to Travis about his selfish actions these past two weeks. First he is rolling around the stage like a little boy, and now he refuses to come to the ring.
Hastings: Indeed, it’s truly a struggle sometimes, a burden to bear, carrying him along in Blessed Immortality, but given time, I can show him the way as well.
OLL: Well, he’s lucky to have a friend like you, then. That’s why next week, you’ll team together to face Moss Edwards and Will Everknight.
Hastings: It will warm his heart when you tell him, I’m sure.
OLL: Perhaps you’d like to come with me to tell him?
Hastings: Would that I could, but when I walked past a few minutes ago, Prescott and Savana were passed out and blocking the door, and I can ill afford to sully my cloak trying to step over people of their ilk.
OLL: Are they now? Well, we’ll see about that…
Old Lady Levene storms off. Donovan watches her go.
Hastings: Sodding bitch.
He turns around to see Owen Peterson standing in front of him, the replica championship belt still around his waist.
Hastings: Where’s your eye-patch?
Peterson: Lord-Chief, I want to talk to you about Calypso.
Hastings: That’s right, we haven’t really had a chance to talk since she came back, you and I. It’s okay. I knew you’d be happy for me.
Peterson: Well…
Hastings: Owen?
Peterson: It’s just that…well…are you sure it’s a good idea?
Hastings: Owen Peterson. Are you jealous?
Peterson: What? No!
Hastings: Really, I wouldn’t have expected that from you.
Calypso stumbles back over, holding her stomach.
Calypso: Ugh, that was horrible…
Hastings: C’mon, Cal, let’s go.
Calypso: One second.
She grabs a bottle of water of a nearby table and takes a swig, swishing it in her mouth, and she spits it out, the spittle inadvertently spraying all over Peterson’s pants.
Calypso: Okay, that’s better.
Donovan takes her by the hand and leads her away, as Peterson stares at his own pants.
Hastings: Seriously, I think it makes for great bling.
OLL: Well, from one fine young man to another.
Donovan turns and sees her.
Hastings: Hello, mum.
OLL: Getting yourself a soda?
Hastings: Well, there isn’t anyone available to get them for me at the moment. Buy you a Pepsi One?
OLL: What a nice boy you are. Quite the evening I’m having, seeing you now, and I just saw Jackie Chan out in the ring. Let me tell you, I’d show him my kung-fu grip any day.
Calypso: *hrk!*
She covers her mouth, her eyes bulged out of her head, and quickly runs off.
OLL: Where is she off to now?
Donovan squints in the direction that Calypso ran.
Hastings: Looked like she vomited in her mouth.
OLL: Now why would she do that?
Hastings: Um…
He turns back to her.
Hastings: Well, before we came to the arena tonight, we stopped off for a quick bite at Taco Bell. Cal had herself a crunchwrap, but after she took a bite, she started opening it up. I’m all like, why would you do that? Because everybody knows, you don’t look at your burger at McDonald’s, and you don’t open up your crunchwrap at Taco Bell. It’s not good for anybody.
OLL: It’s certainly not.
Hastings: Right. So when she opened it up, she looks at me, and she’s like, “it looks like somebody vom’ed in my taco. So she takes it up, shows it to the cashier, and he’s all “I know who’s cooking today!” And they gave her a fresh one, which she ate, Hastings knows why. So that’s probably her problem.
He averts his eyes and scratches his head.
Hastings: Probably.
OLL: Well, I hope she’s okay.
Hastings: Thank you, mum.
OLL: Because we have to talk about what she did last week.
Hastings: Mum?
OLL: Glen Burke felt he needed her to be removed from your match.
Hastings: I thought his name was Bourke now?
OLL: Can you answer for this?
Hastings: Of course! Cal is now representing this company as the de facto GIW.com Champion, standing in for the bumbling disappointment, Everknight, while he learns how to behave. Now, she needs to be properly promoted, hence she needs screen time. She was just standing so the fans up in nosebleed seats could get a good look, in case they didn’t bring their binoculars with them. It’s not our fault that Burke is so distracted by her beauty that he was forced to remove her for the sake of his own concentration.
OLL: I see, of course.
Hastings: Where might you be off to?
OLL: I need to go speak to Travis about his selfish actions these past two weeks. First he is rolling around the stage like a little boy, and now he refuses to come to the ring.
Hastings: Indeed, it’s truly a struggle sometimes, a burden to bear, carrying him along in Blessed Immortality, but given time, I can show him the way as well.
OLL: Well, he’s lucky to have a friend like you, then. That’s why next week, you’ll team together to face Moss Edwards and Will Everknight.
Hastings: It will warm his heart when you tell him, I’m sure.
OLL: Perhaps you’d like to come with me to tell him?
Hastings: Would that I could, but when I walked past a few minutes ago, Prescott and Savana were passed out and blocking the door, and I can ill afford to sully my cloak trying to step over people of their ilk.
OLL: Are they now? Well, we’ll see about that…
Old Lady Levene storms off. Donovan watches her go.
Hastings: Sodding bitch.
He turns around to see Owen Peterson standing in front of him, the replica championship belt still around his waist.
Hastings: Where’s your eye-patch?
Peterson: Lord-Chief, I want to talk to you about Calypso.
Hastings: That’s right, we haven’t really had a chance to talk since she came back, you and I. It’s okay. I knew you’d be happy for me.
Peterson: Well…
Hastings: Owen?
Peterson: It’s just that…well…are you sure it’s a good idea?
Hastings: Owen Peterson. Are you jealous?
Peterson: What? No!
Hastings: Really, I wouldn’t have expected that from you.
Calypso stumbles back over, holding her stomach.
Calypso: Ugh, that was horrible…
Hastings: C’mon, Cal, let’s go.
Calypso: One second.
She grabs a bottle of water of a nearby table and takes a swig, swishing it in her mouth, and she spits it out, the spittle inadvertently spraying all over Peterson’s pants.
Calypso: Okay, that’s better.
Donovan takes her by the hand and leads her away, as Peterson stares at his own pants.
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