King Cucaracha 0 Report post Posted March 7, 2006 Before the intro, plz! -------------------------------- *EARLIER TODAY* Outside the arena, the threesome of John "Rock Hard" Brickston, Spanish Fly and Colombian Heat are stood in a huddle and apparantly waiting on something or, perhaps, someone. With the Latino Thug Street Fight later in the night, Brickston is wearing some worn jeans and a simple black wifebeater, Spanish Fly in one of his new Spanish Fly t-shirts (shill!) and faded jeans (and his mask, naturally), while Heat is pimpin' it up with baggy combat pants and his personalised soccer jersey, as well as tons of bling. Yeah, I said bling. I'm street, yo. As they stand waiting in what is probably the cold (I'm not really close enough to guess what the weather's like in the US, see) the dulset tones of James Blunt begin to play through the parking lot. The three collectively turn up their noses as a car of some sort (I'm not good on cars either, see) pulls up in front of them. A few seconds later, once it parks up, the sunroof opens and LEON RODEZ! pops his head through the roof. RODEZ [i]You're beautiful, it's truuueee![/i] What's up guys! Rodez ducks back through the roof and thankfully switches the radio off, while Heat asks Fly exactly "what's dat cracker's problem, dawg?" Exiting the car, Rodez jigs around to the boot and grabs his bags, while the threesome in front of him continue to wait. RODEZ Man, that's a tune. So what are you guys doing out here? FLY Waiting for you, man. We wanna talk over the Latino Thug Street Fight tonight, because we figured you wouldn't really know what the deal was. RODEZ You'd be completely correct. But, I came prepared anyway. Reaching into his pocket, Rodez grabs a pack of toothpicks, opening it up and sticking one in the corner of his mouth. RODEZ Orralay, holmes! HEAT Yo, da's offensive to mah culture! RODEZ So...I should leave the sombrero in the trunk, right? All three nod in unison. RODEZ Alright, no stereotypical Latino stuff. Probably wasn't best advised now that I think about it. So, what is the deal with this Latino Thug thing then? FLY Well, it's an ordinary street fight really. But there's a couple of little rules...you know, minor stuff. Like you wearing what you enter the arena in to the ring. And also, you've gotta bri...woah, where you going? Rushing back over to his car, Rodez hurriedly throws his bag up and onto the car and quickly starts to pull out his ring gear. HEAT Whatchu doin', sucka? RODEZ Well, apparantely I'm putting my gear on! All three look confused. RODEZ Technically, we're not in the arena yet. We have to wear out to the ring the clothes we come to the arena in...so if I get changed out here, then I can wear my gear to the ring. Comprendé? Rodez pulls his shirt off and throws it haphazardly to the floor. HEAT Brah, it's a street fight. You supposed ta be wearin' street clothes, dat's the point! RODEZ Street clothes, schmeet clothes my Colombian friend. I worked hard for these thighs, they're not being hidden under jeans no matter how designer or expensive they may be. I'm not a Latino Thug. I'm a wrestler with a well toned body that I like to oil up and show off to people. Now, if that makes me an egotistical narcissistic sports pimp, then I guess I'm just an egotistical narcissistic sports pimp. FLY So what, you're gonna get changed out here in the middle of the parking lot? RODEZ ...good point. Grabbing his keys, Rodez opens up the backdoor of the car, throwing in his bag and pulling down his pants as he crawls onto the backseat. Brickston begins to survey the night sky while Fly and Heat look down at their feet. RODEZ (from inside the car) [i]Man. *GRUNT* Now I know why most wrestlers...*GRUNT*...wear their gear everywhere they go.[/i] Rodez continues to struggle with his clothing, while the trio outside the car try to find new and interesting places to look. Walking past, Charles Robinson and Brian Hebner take an interest in the rocking car and grunting, joining Heat, Brickston and Fly in what they assume is the jolly-good pastime of dogging. Or, so I'm told. Eventually, after much grunting and groaning, Rodez emerges from the car in his wrestling gear (sans elbowpads, which he now starts putting on). Robinson and Hebner dejectedly leave, as Rodez holds his arms to the side. RODEZ Feels like I'm missing something... HEAT Look man, you best gets serio... RODEZ ROBE! *slaps forehead* Man, how stupid would I have looked walking in the door without my robe, huh guys? Pretty darned stupid, that's how. Rummaging back through the trunk, Rodez unfurls a lavish purple robe, matching his ring gear. RODEZ Okay, so what's the other rules? FLY Well, you have to bring your own weapon to the ring with you. RODEZ Weapon? Right...weapons, weapons... Going back through the trunk, Rodez searches through his VAST storage space for something to inflict some Latino Thuggery with. RODEZ Okay, tyre iron...a little drastic. *CLANG!* Windscreen wiper fluid...I think not. *SPLASH!* Toolbox...too heavy. *CLUNK!* Bundle of lighttubes...convenient, but I think one epic-Deathmatch per career is enough for me. License 2 Pin, 2004. Don't hate. *CRAAASH!* Skimpy underwear, NOT mine, I swear...best give them back to Alix methinks. *THONG!* HEAT Brah, chill, we's gonna find somethin' inside. Seriously, whatchu gonna do wit' all that junk in yo' trunk? RODEZ I'ma get get get get you drunk, get you drunk off of my humps? HEAT ... RODEZ (dancing) My hump my hump, my hump my hump my humps, my lovely lady lumps? BRICKSTON [i]*She got me spendiiiiin'...*[/i] RODEZ See, he gets it! And you to think, you two call yourself street? Fly and Heat look at each other in despair before walking off into the arena. Brickston shrugs and follows on, while Rodez watches on with arms folded. RODEZ Where's the love, ya'll? Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
