Promo- Mentors Work in Mysterious Ways I

[The Ill One 0]

Enjoy.

 

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Danny Dagda rounds the corner with an impatient grunt backstage in St. Paul, Minnesota. He continues searching within the halls like a child looking for a lost pet; he swoops down and peaks underneath tables, behind a stack of boxes, and even pauses to poke his head into a locker room with the door wide open.

 

Finally he sighs and yells, “Lil’ Dag, Lil’ Dag, where art thou Lil’ Daggy-O!” Danny Dagda snickers at his own wit before he walks down to the hallway with the door slightly opened and a disgusting, thick like syrup, stuck like glue, nasal gasps of air. He winces at the influenza-ridden breath that fills the silence. He walks up to the door and swings it open as Matthew Kivell’s head flops over and hits the cement.

 

“Ow…” The referee looks up with shame and gives Danny a look begging for mercy.

 

“Oh come on now! This isn’t anything to be ashamed of, is it?” Dagda sarcastically asks as he walks up to Kivell and yanks him to his feet. Kivell has a desperate stare in the distance before Danny grabs him by the arms and shakes. “Wake up, Lil’ Dag!”

 

Matthew looks down at his outfit and groans. He wears a tight black t-shirt that has in white print “Program M.W.M.W.” and on the back reading “Lil’ Dag.” His pants are an identical pair to the khaki cargoes that Dagda wears. The referee’s hair is even shortly cut and with the hair gel in an eerie resemblance. “…I told…”

 

Danny cuts him off. “Hey! I warned you that playing me in beer ping pong!”

 

“You said you had no liver!” Matthew Kivell snaps back. “Yeah, but I didn’t buy your damn bridge!” He puffs out his chest in defiance and in triumph.

 

Danny bursts into laughter at the pathetic sight in front of him. “Amusing, just like me.”

 

“You never said you had a formal program!” Kivell throws back.

 

“Hey,” he says, “am I the one who wants a date with Tina, the Technical Writer?”

 

Matthew Kivell nods in defeat then breezes past Dagda trying to evade him. Danny falls behind has to jog up behind him to catch up and he puts a hand onto Matthew’s shoulder, a cigarette cherry dangerously dangling above the shoulder. “I never say I had given up with you. So, first things first- there’s Amy the Company Whore, even Riley had a go at her drunken at the Festivus,” Dagda explains. He steps in front of Matthew Kivell and blows a cloud of smoke towards his face. “Do me proud, Lil’ Dag’!” With that advice he shoves Matthew towards Amy who’s grabbing a cup of coffee.

 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Kivell whirls around.

 

Danny Dagda frowns and stalks up to Matthew, frustrated. He sends a shove to the referee and grabs him by the collar. Like a schoolground bully he tugs Matthew up to his face and growls. “Go fetch me some panties.”

 

Matthew Kivell gulps and walks towards Amy who stirs her cream into the coffee. He tries to walk tough and gets right up behind Amy. He wraps his arm onto her belly underneath her shirt, places a hand on her shoulder, and puts his lips just brushing against her earlobes.

 

“I like my ladies as I do my coffee- cheap, unfulfilling, and leaves a gross film on your teeth,” he seductively whispers.

 

Amy looks down at the hand struggling to get underneath her bra. She takes her hot coffee with its cheap aroma lifting off in steam and splashes it right into Kivell’s face.

 

“Ah! Christ! The Sweet and Low! It Burns! It burns!” Matthew Kivell squeals as he clutches onto his face.

 

Danny Dagda winces in the background and innocently jogs up towards his protégé. When he stands towering over the bent over Kivell he pats him on the back. “First few are always the toughest… you’ll grow immune in time,” he explains. But Matthew Kivell just responds by throwing back his elbow into Dagda’s crotch. “You little fucker!” He growls like a lion and leaps out but misses Matthew who slips backwards on the coffee on the cement floor, reeling back into the boxes.

 

 

Dagda’s just on the ground in a fetal position moaning, “I need somebody to give my penis CPR!”

 

He slowly flops over and gets up, the two stamp towards each other. They collide chest on and now Matthew sees the obvious problem. He can hardly fight.

 

“Why’d you kick me?”

 

“Where’s your brain!” Kivell barks back in anger.

 

“Why’d you kick me?”

 

“Where’s your brain?”

 

“Why’d you kick me?”

 

“Where’s your brain?”

 

”I asked you first.”

 

“How can we pick up Sloane Peterson if…?” His voice trails off and he glances off to the side with a smile. “I didn’t hit you, I lightly elbowed you…” He admits.

 

“You hit me. I’m watching your back and now you’ll soon be dealing with more asses than a Sir Mix-A-Lot video!” Dagda smacks Kivell in the check. “Can’t you see? It’s all part of the first step. You haven’t shown acceptance, so I had to reinforce you don’t have a fuckin’ clue what you’re doing.”

 

“Okay! You’re right!” Matthew sighs and glances down as it all pieces together in his alcoholic head the thought swishes around like vodka in the punch. “You’re just showing me how awful I am! I get it!” He smiles and sighs. “Man I don’t understand why nobody likes you Danny…”

 

Danny Dagda smirks and pats Matthew on the back. He pauses and takes a whiff. “Are you wearing Musk?” He asks the referee.

 

“…Maybe… well… yeah, so? Like it?”

 

“No, smells like locker room ass. But regardless,” he continues to lead the walk down the hall. “It’s funny you should say that.”

 

“…Locker room ass?”

 

“…What? No. People not liking me, well, apparently there’s been some talk about, you know, keeping me down.”

 

Kivell looks shocked. “You’re kidding!”

 

Dagda shakes his head sadly, “Nope. No shit, kid. But I can tell you all about that after I demonstrate how to get a phone number.”

 

“Alright, sounds good…” Matthew reluctantly says. “Sounds great!”

 

“Hey hey, enough, this already reeks of a male-male dominance b-grade dorm movie,” Dagda warns. He smirks and fishes out another cancer stick. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

 

 

-FIN-

 

That's the second time that Casablanca's quotes have made it into a written promo (I think).

[The Amazing Rando 0]

From Bueller to Casablanca. Next week: Fast Times to Citizen Kane!

 

 

Always good to see teh promoage.