PROMO: 'Operation Arachnophobia'

[Toxxic 0]

Place: A motel somewhere in Europe

 

Time: Well after Alan Clark’s bedtime

 

 

The motel room is a good one. The beds are large and comfortable, there’s room service, and there’s air conditioning. Alan Clark lies asleep on his bed, possibly dreaming of blood, barbed wire and Mickey Mouse ears. His bed is, in contradiction of the traditional mother’s wisdom that sleeping in a draught gives you a cold, directly underneath an air conditioning vent. Walter Reynolds is asleep next door, through the door that connects their twin suite. After all, when your World Champion cannot defend himself against physical attack it would be pointless to give his bodyguard an entirely separate room. The door is locked, and those air conditioning vents would be impassable to anyone who might have a beef with Clark, bulky wrestler as they would be.

 

Well. Impassable to nearly everyone.

 

“Tango Foxtrot Juliet to control, come in control, over.”

 

The sound is muffled and tinny, but definitely coming from the roof space. Someone has somehow managed to get up there and is, against all probability, conversing with a third party. Presumably via a walkie-talkie.

 

+This is control, roger that. Confirm status of target, over+

 

“Target is visible and apparently asleep, over.”

 

+Commence Operation Arachnophobia+

 

There is a faint noise as the air conditioning grille is lifted away, and moments later an object about the size of a man’s hand appears. It starts to lower from the ceiling, apparently suspended by a thin black thread almost invisible in the dim light inside the room. The grille is gently replaced, and Alan Clark remains unaware as the new arrival descends towards him and alights gently on his chest.

 

“ELB* away. Target still asleep, over.”

 

+Advise HydroAlarmClark method, over+

 

There is a faint pop, such as the top coming off a sports bottle, then a thin trickle of fluid drizzles down from the ceiling and spatters onto Alan Clark. Some only hits his pillow, but a decent amount catches the World Champion square in the face.

 

“Whfg…?” Clark mutters, starting awake and wiping his face. He reaches for the light switch and slaps it on, then looks up to try and find out where his unexpected shower has come from. However, his attention is more immediately grabbed by the thing resting on his chest.

 

It’s large.

 

It’s black.

 

It’s rubber.

 

 

 

 

It’s a freaking rubber spider.

 

“The hell…?” Clark mutters, swiping the thing off him irritably.

 

“Control, we have negative reaction. Repeat, negative reaction, over.”

 

The spider tumbles off the bed, but remains attached to the thread that lowered it and so swings back again. Clark, still half-asleep and confused in the extreme, grabs the thing and throws it. The spider flies across the room, but a small fishing rod equivalent on the end of the thread rattles down through the air vent and lands on Clark’s face.

 

“Ow!”

 

“Make that extremely negative reaction.”

 

Alan looks up, hearing the whisper above his head and figuring out that for things to be coming out of the ceiling it’s likely that there’s someone up there… so he scrambles out of bed (leading to the revelation that the World Champion sometimes goes to sleep in his pants) and peers angrily upwards.

 

“WALTER! GET IN HERE!”

 

“Shit! Position compromised!”

 

+Abort! Abort!+

 

There is a scuffling and banging as someone hastily beats a retreat down the air conditioning vent, momentarily drowned out as the door bangs and Walter Reynolds barges in from the other suite. He looks around, seeing no immediate threat to his charge…

 

“There’s someone in the damn ceiling!” Clark spits, “boost me up there!” Walter obliges, cupping his hands and lifting Alan up so he can push the grille aside and peer along the vent. There is very little to see of course, air vents not being known for their illumination, but a faint glimmer in the direction of the scuffling noise shows that someone planned for this and brought a torch with them. Angry though he is, Clark isn’t going to start chasing someone down the length of air conditioning vents so he drops back down and heads for the door of his room. With Walter in tow he steps outside, but the banging has receded and he is left without a trail to follow.

 

“So someone was in the ceiling?” Reynolds asks, still completely nonplussed. Clark nods as he looks down the corridor, seeing a member of hotel staff taking room service into a suite a few doors down.

 

“Yeah. Dropped a rubber spider on me, and some water. Weirdest thing I ever saw.”

 

The door reopens and the hotel staff member scampers back through, pursued by a hurled sandwich and a cry of “Bread! Only the breadulations, no with the cheese and the mustard also!”

 

“Jimmy,” Walter grunts. Clark nods and turns around, to find himself face-to-face with a masked man doing a one-man tango down the corridor with a bucket of ice on his head.

 

“GREETINGS, POPE CLARK! AND YOUR GOOD LADY!”

 

Alan Clark and Walter Reynolds watch Fulminatus parade past, one arm outstretched, the other hugging his chest, and yes, a rose clenched between his teeth. With a bucket of ice on his head. The challenger for the New Blood title disappears around the corner, and Clark finally blinks.

 

“This company gets worse all the time…”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* Eight-Legged Beastie

 

[Guest WhollyChao]

What a WONDERFUL choice, sir!

 

I thought that Rev-0 were supposed to be heels, though. They're wonderful gents!

 

Can a heel stable do adorable pranks on people and still get heat?

 

Good stuff with Jimmy and Fulmy, too. Spot on.

 

 

 

[Angel_Grace_Blue 0]

You have mis-titled this promo. It should be P.O.O.F.N.A.R. Version 2, Only Not As Cool.

 

Also: um...i forget. good stuff, though, i guess.

[Toxxic 0]

Revolution Zero ARE heels. They're just heels who enjoy having fun at other people's expense.

[Guest WhollyChao]

But they're heels doing funny things to other heels.

 

Makes them faceish.

 

Just keep a weather eye open.

 

 

[Sly 0]

Needs more Sly.

[Angel_Grace_Blue 0]

that's a gimmick that i'd love to see: sly as poochie.

 

"hey, where is austin?"

 

"i wonder what sly is doing right now..."

 

"i wish austin sly would hang out with me more often!"

 

 

in other news: the promo was good, as i kinda stumbled over in my previous post, but i just felt like busting toxx's chops/coconuts.

[Toxxic 0]

Trouble is, I can never think of anything amusing to do to faces. Well, we all took the piss out of Spike, maybe that counts. It seemed to amuse WC, anyway.

 

I'll work on it.

[HollywoodSpikeJenkins 0]

But they're heels doing funny things to other heels.

 

Makes them faceish.

 

Just keep a weather eye open.

 

 

I've been saying this since the beginning. I like the promo and everything, it just seems that if I were a fan of a wrestling promotion and this group of heels was doing this to another heel (let alone the top heel of the federation and current World Champion), I'd cheer the group the next time I saw them.