PROMO: Colour Your World.

[Guest realitycheck]

BEFORE STORM:

 

“No.”

 

“But I--”

 

“No!”

 

“But it just isn’t--”

 

“No, no, and no! And for the last time, NO! …Z, I’m sorry, but no.”

 

In the hallway outside of the Midnight Carnival locker room, BEFORE Storm, I should add, Edwin MacPhisto and Z stand face to face. Of all things possible, the two appear to be having a… argument? Z sighs, as Edwin looks down.

 

“Look… I won’t lose this time!” Z yells, sounding about as defiant as he gets. “So *what* if he beat me around the last time!? I won’t let it happen again, I--”

 

“Z…” Edwin interrupts. “I understand where you’re coming from on this, but… I just can’t let you face Silent again! You *know* what he’s capable of? What he did you Raynor? Jay Dawg? …You?”

 

“But--!”

 

“NO!” Edwin does a very un-Edwin esque shout. “I’m NOT letting you face him again! Get the bloody idea out of your head!”

 

Z hangs his head. Edwin sighs, and examines his shoes again.

 

“Look… I must be getting ready for Storm. You’ve just GOT to get this crazy idea of honoring me out of your brain! It’ll be okay… when the time comes, I’ll be able to deal with Silent.” Edwin forces both those words, and a smile, before turning to head out of the locker room. “Anyhoo, Storm requires much preparation in the form of drinking many daiquiris. Z, you’ve really got to get your head away from facing this guy… you’ve got a match against Xero. Daresay you should worry about that instead.” And with that last bit of less-than-sagely advice, the Mac Daddy beats an exit down the hall. The One-Letter Wonder sulks back into the locker room, plopping down onto one of the chairs.

 

Sitting in one of the other chairs, Chris Raynor looks up from his reading material. “So, he wouldn’t let you face Silent again?”

 

Z sighs. “No.”

 

“Meh… I figured as much. I suppose it’s justified though, Z. After all, he *did* beat you around pretty soundly that last time. Hell, he gave me a good run, too.”

 

Z looks up at the tag-team extraordinaire. “I guess… it just irks me, you know? I mean… Edwin keeps telling me he’s got everything under control… but he doesn’t. I feel that… someone’s gotta help him!”

 

Raynor mulls over Z’s words. “I guess… I think in any other case, Edwin might respect your sense of honor. But that doesn’t make Silent any less dangerous--”

 

And with a loud snort, the SWF’s official Mexican Import pulls his head up from leaning back on the couch, looking at Raynor and Z. “Bah! Esse, I don’t see what the big deal about Silent is.” ELM scoffs again. “I mean, so he’s beaten JD and Z—and that’s no offence to you, my Pequeño Amigo.” Mags smirks as he shoots a look to Z, getting a sour one in return. Z’s obviously been hearing that phrase a lot. “Heh, heh… anyway, he still has lost to you, senior Raynor. He is more than capable of losing.”

 

Raynor gives Mag’s a lopsided look. “You DO recall the ending of that match, right?”

 

Magnifico pauses, gazes at the ceiling, trying to remember something… and then turns to Chris with a shrug. “You know, it escapes me at the moment. BESIDES… all that matters is that you were victorious, no? How you won does not matter.” The lucadore waves his hand dismissively for effect. Raynor continues to give him the lopsided look. “Now, myself, I do not think that Silent is living up to all his hyperbole. Now, back in Mexico, there was a man named El Gran Último Combatiente! Now THERE was a man who could live up to his billing.” ELM chuckles in remembrance, as Raynor and Z exchange a look, clearly not wanting to hear another of Mags’ Mexican Wrestling Stories.

 

“Uh… Mags?”

 

“Man… now, I remember a tag match I was having with El Luchador Enmascarado back in TPTWWT. That would be Tijuana Pro Territorial Wrestling Working for Tequila, and--”

 

“Mags!” Raynor shouts again, just a little louder, getting the Lucadore’s attention. “Uh… I think you can stop now.”

 

“Eh? Bah, hmph. Chico, you always stop me when I’m reminiscing. Like, remember that time I was in--” Magnifico again stops short in mid-memory, thanks to an icy glare from Raynor. “Fine, fine… well, anyway, what I am saying is that Silent is more than beatable, Zee.”

 

Z sighs, again. “Well… I know. I think. Still, Edwin isn’t going to just LET me have a match with Silent… but I know I can beat him this time!” Z pauses, and then sighs for about the millionth time. “But… even then, do you honestly think someone like Silent would really agree to another match with me?”

 

Raynor thinks for a moment. “Bah, there are plenty of ways to convince him. I mean--”

 

“Damn right there are!” Interrupts ELM. “You know that flag I’ve got, Esse? The poll’s got some pretty sharp tips, eh?” Mag grins. “You know what you do? You take that flag, and you BARGE into Silent’s locker room, and you drive those tips into his gut! Then you say, “TOME ESO, PERRA! I *got* your ass on Smarkdown!” And then you lay into him with the stomps, man! Then you climb to the highest point in the room, and you do a MOONSAULT, and--”

 

“Uh, Mags?” Raynor interrupts. “I was thinking in a more Carnie orientated fashion. Say… a prank of sorts?”

 

Mags ‘bah’s’, but Z’s eyes light up. “A… prank? A prank! That’s great! Uh… but what kind of prank?”

 

Raynor thinks about it for a minute. “Well… you usually gotta go for the throat when you prank someone, you know? You have to go for something they hold dear. Like a car, or a picture, or a locket, or a home, or some clothing, or a certain title belt, or--”

 

“A toy store?” Z adds, trying to sound helpful.

 

Raynor’s face falls. “Yes.” He deadpans.

 

“Okay, so I’d have to go for something Silent holds dear… hmn…” Z thinks. “…mnm… he’s a heartless ne’er do well. What the hell could he hold dear?”

 

“Uh…” Raynor stutters. “Damned if I know. …maybe his cane? He’s always dragging the damn thing around with him.” Chris winces a bit at the memory of said cane hitting him in the head a few times. “Anyway… maybe if you could manage to get to it without him knowing, you could spray paint it or something. That any good?”

 

In Z’s head, a hamster slowly starts to spin a wheel. “Spray paint… whithout Silent knowing… Raynor, you’ve just given me a great idea. I gotta go!” In a flash, Z sprints for the door, running out of the room. It takes a moment for the other two Carnies to register what just happened.

 

“Mags…” Raynor begins.

 

“Si?”

 

“Z… *Z*, has just decided that he’s going to have a rematch with Silent, and is going to achieve this by pissing him off and getting him to accept his challenge. Because I suggested pranking him.”

 

“Si.”

 

“…what the hell did I just do?”

 

------------------------

 

Deep within the bowels of the Target Centre, because this is BEFORE STORM, it should be reminded, a small figure cracks open the door to Silent’s locker room. It’s fortunate that Silent is on such rocky ground with the Clan, because sneaking into their locker room, or finding a time when all but one is away, is nigh-impossible. Fortunately, Silent’s just one person. And on top of that, the door was even ulocked!

 

…now, what was that again about this door being unlocked he should’ve remembered. Hmn… dammit, he’s forgotten. Oh well, it probably wasn’t too, too important.

 

He continues on his mission: Find that blasted cane of Silent’s, and then run like hell. And don’t stop until you need to. Yes… anyway, where IS that blasted thing? Maybe he should turn on some lights or something. It’s unsurprising that Silent woud like his locker room dark. Anyway, let’s see… god, he hates stumbling around in the dark trying to find something. Anyway, he has to find a wall to feel… wall, wall… ah, THERE’s the wall! Now… let’s feel this thing. Uhm… painted brick… more painted brick… ...that feels like the beginning of a black board, there. Must be a coaches locker room or something. Anyway… more painted brick… wooden pole… ahha, light switch!

 

-flick!-

 

…wait, woden poll? D’oh. That blasted cane was right there the whole time. Ah, well. Now, what was it about the cane being here that was important? Something to do with the door being unlocked. Well, he hopes it wasn’t TOO important. Anyway… he’s got the cane in hand. Now, to run! Just got to head to the door here, and… say, that’s an awfully big shadow in the door frame.

 

…wait? Oh, now he remembers what was so important! If the door was unlocked, and the cane was still there, it probably meant that Silent just needed to run out, and he’d be back soon!

 

…

 

…oh, shit.

 

Before our bulky figured friend can even thing of running, the big shadow reaches forth with a big, not so shadowy hand, grabbing the figure by the lapels of his jacket, and viciously slams him to the wall! The cane clatters from his hand, onto the floor, as Silent takes a step back, RAMMING his foot into the mans throat!

 

“Who… the hell are you?” The Slaughterer breathes. “WHAT… the hell are you doing? And WHY did you have my cane? Answer in that order.”

 

“GRAK! Gaspharack… urkable! Psshtgisb!” The rather pudgy figure wheezes and such with Silent’s foot against his esophagus.

 

“…I see.” Notes Silent, before dropping his foot from the mans throat… and realizes something. “Hmn… say… aren’t you that camera man? …Gus, was it?”

 

-huffpuff- -hackwheeze- “…yes…” -huff-

 

“Ah, I see.” Silent stares a hole through the man, who has now slumped to the ground. “Again, I ask: Why are you here, and what are you doing?”

 

-huffwheeze- -hackcough- “…I… got paid… by…” -sputter-

 

“By…?”

 

-puffpuff- “…Z…”

 

Silent’s face falls. “Z? …the Carnie?”

 

-cough- “Yea… he wanted… to distract you.”

 

Silent looks stupefied, though he covers it up well. “Distract me?”

 

------------------------

 

Somewhere in the Target Centre, (Where I am once more forced to remind you that this is happening BEFORE STORM and stuff) which is a very dark and dank place, known to those with better French as a ‘Garage’ a ball of blue hair and forest camo jacket rizes up from no-where, a very un-characteristic maniacal grin on his face… and two spray pain cans in either hand. Also notable are the unsymmetrical splotches of paint now on the jacket, in two very distinct colours… baby blue, and electric pink. His grin gets wider, if possible.

 

“Heh, heh. Wow. This is even better than fingerpainting!” Z drops both paint cans from his hands. “And now, the finishing touch… with a bit of purple, of course! …and while I’m at it, where’d I put that stencil?”

 

The arteeeest, as it were, possessed by his muse, goes back to work. Work that has yet to be seen by anyone… yet.

 

------------------------

 

-huffpuff- “Y… yeah, that one.” Gus The Camera Guy responds to Silents last question.

 

“I… see.” Silent sounds legitimately stunned. “Did he happen to mention why?”

 

“Y… yes. He said… he needed me… to keep you busy… because he… -huff- though that you were going to head out soon.”

 

“Mm… Where did he go after he talked to you?”

 

“-cough- down to… the parking level.”

 

Parking Level? …oh dear. Several thoughts rush through Silent’s head, none of them pleasant.

 

“Ah, I see. Thank you for telling me… Gus?”

 

“Huff… puff…”

 

“Right.” And with that, Silent grabs his cane and bolts from the room, leaving poor Gus laying against the wall. Moments later, Silent pops back in.

 

“…you say you wanted to have a look at my cane, right?”

 

Gus’s eyes widen.

 

FWOOOSH! THUNK!

 

THUNK-THUNK!

 

------------------------

 

Five minutes later, Silent finishes his rush from his locker room down to parking level two, where he last left his car. Leaping from the last few stairs to the door, the throws it open, and tears toward the stall where he parked…

 

…and the most grizzly, gruesome, downright SICKENING display is found. His Diablo. His car that would take mere mortal men years to get the cash JUST to make a down-payment. His badass roaming machine of black death. His CAR… is no more.

 

Lying in the same stall of what was once his car… is now a monster. Spray painted hastily, in the cheapest, most unprofessional way imaginable, his car his now one-half baby blue, one half bright, rockin’ electric pink. The tires are now white. There are obviously stenciled on purple clowns, ponies, and little circus tents. And the crowning achievement? Running down either side, from fender to fender… is a huge, purple racing stripe… with bright silver text reading:

 

“I <3 THE MIDNIGHT CARNIVAL.”

 

Several more thoughts rush through Silents head, each of them with more impending criminal charges than the last. The Slaughterer trembles with anger. Out of the corner of his eye, he notes something. And with one shaking hand, he reaches over, plucking a fluttering white note from under a now hot pink windshield wiper. On the note, written in the most childishly poor and sloppy handwriting imaginable is…

 

“Dear Silent,

 

Hey! It’s Z! Remember me! I hope you like the new paint job. Black just seemed so… boring. So gauche. So last week. I had to do something about it. You understand, right? Geez… the fashion tidbits you don’t pick up hanging around Edwin. Anyway, you can be sure to thank Raynor for the idea the next time you see him. Thank his credit card for letting me afford the paint too. …though you probably don’t want to mention that to him, for my sake.

 

Anyway, are you angry now? I hope so, after all the effort I went to. Are you angry enough to blindly accept any kind of challenge I’d throw at you? I hope so there, as well. I’m determined to have a rematch, Silent, weather Edwin likes it or not. Edwin’s afraid of what might happen? Fine. I’m still not afraid of you, Silent… and if beating you is what’s going to solve all this stuff, than I’ll do it! So… I request—no, I challenge—No, I frickin’ DEMAND that you face me, one-on-one, on Smarkdown. I don’t want to wait for a PPV for whatever kind of rematch we’re going to have. I don’t want to give anyone… Not Edwin, or Stubby, or Annie, or the other Carnies, or whoever the heck wants to this time around, the chance to talk me out of it! And time time, we do it in a match with no guns… no knives… no chains, chairs, garbage cans, cookie sheets or your blasted cane. We do it in a cage, with only you and me, and some good old steel to stop anyone from interfering in this one. No Edwin, no carnies, no friends of yours, god help them if you have anyone that desperate. And this time… I WON’T lose. See you on Smarkdown!"

 

-Love Alex,

xoxoxo

oxoxox

[Guest realitycheck]

Okay, explanation time! This is a promo that explains why Silent and I are facing one another, but you see, there is a problem. This was supposed to go BEFORE Storm, and you know what? It DID. Unfortunetally, the aliens that invaded that night chose the very MOMENT I put the promo up to momentary wipe everyone on the planets memory at that very moment, and ALSO used a nuclear-electronic impulse, thus wiping it from the history of the boards for that EXACT minute. It took a gargatuan effort from some really punctual superhero's but the ailiens were repelled before further damage could be done.

 

...huh? Whadda ya' mean "How do YOU remember?" WELL, it's obvious! I was... uhm... I was...

 

...okay, I'm just making up lame and really unfunny excuses as to why I'm a SPECTACULARLY lazy-ass slut, and didn't get this finished until now. Just imagine it going up before Storm or something. Hey, we imagine all the other stuff about the fed, so we can all do this. So there.

 

And apologies if this is at all bad/unwitty/unfunny/inconsistant, because I've been up far too long, and IT SHOWS. See the above intro for details, ugh.

 

-Z

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

Dude. You are so ridiculously well-versed in the Carnie ways. Laziness. Pranks. Mastery of character dialogue. ::sniffle:: He's growing up into a beautiful butterfly, ladies and gentlemen.

 

Altogether, great. Really. Using Mag for all that comic relief was a touch of brilliance, since he's usually the Carnie we use least in our sort of backstage vignettes. And the car...well, all I know is that Silent will be riding in style for quite a while. Awesome awesome stuff.

[Guest AnnieEclectic]

This just furthers my belief that I am justified in being a Z mark. The note, pure genious, topped by '-Love, Alex xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo'! Awesome!

 

And Mags doing comic relief? I don't understand half of what he said and it was funny!.... anyone have subtitles or something?

 

-Annie

[Guest -Cutthroat-]

Great stuff, great stuff...

[Guest Ace309]

I liked this a whole lot. It's looking like an interesting development of the character, and hopefully you can get it stuck in everyone else's heads that Z's not just a lucky jobber.

[Guest chirs3]

But Z IS just a lucky jobber.

 

Wait...

 

Bah, forget what I say. Z passes the prank-promo test with flying colors. Baby blue and electric pink, to be precise.

[Guest Kibagami]

You are so lucky. If the Clan was any LESS rich, and we DIDN'T have those Diablos on TAP, boy, you would be EVEN DEADER THAN YOU ALREADY ARE!

 

Awesome promo, one-letter wonder. Almost worth the wait, it was. You lazy-ass Carnie sluts and your prankage. Pwah.

 

S.

[Guest Longdogger_Pete]

Awesome, awesome promo.

 

So... is this supposed to be BEFORE Storm?

[Guest Kibagami]

The time isn't important, Pete. What matters is what he did to my precious, precious Diablo.

 

Did you see what he did to my Diablo?

 

There aren't enough font modifications in the world to describe what I will do to Z for harming my beautiful Diablo.

 

But, yes, it was before Storm.

 

S.

[Guest Beingz0wningj00]

I believe the last time the Carnival pulled a prank on me, we retaliated by winning the tag titles off them.

 

 

Ahh... the good old days.

 

 

Silent... win the tag titles! Wait... M7 have them...

[Guest 5_moves_of_doom]

Woo. GREAT promo Z, I love the letter, and how you portrayed ELM's character. Now I'm even more excited for the cage match...woo!

[Guest Rabbi_wilson13]

Z is a chip off the Carnie block. A really big chip. With great promoing abilities. And a Jersey accent.

 

Nice promo, and considering the Diablo had been in about every one of Silent's promos in one way or another, it made a great target.

 

Promos rock all! We're heating up! Boom shaka laka!