Promo: Curiosity Killed the Chris

[Guest chirs3]

"Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiya!"

 

*CRASH*

 

With a ridiculously overdone tandem-kick, the double doors to the Mellon Arena are bashed in, and the Title-Wearin' Double Darin' Rollin' Tollin' Sons a'...

 

...wait, Tollin'?

 

Screw it. Edwin MacPhisto and Chris Raynor burst into the arena with all the racket you've come to expect from them. Each has his respective title over his respective left shoulder, a gym bag in their respective right hands, and each is soaked from their respective head to toes from the rainstorm outside. Their disposition is somewhat brighter than the past few days - perhaps having ample time to rest and prepare for Snake Eyes has cheered them up. Regardless, they take on the hallway side by side, and kick it's proverbial ass by walking right through it.

 

"Have we heard from the Magpie yet?" Edwin asks, cocking his head towards his partner.

 

"I talked to him yesterday on the phone, he'll be down here soon."

 

"Excellent! We'll drink to his return, provided this bloody arena allows me to make daquiries in the locker room. The nerve of those American Airline's Arena staffers..."

 

"They just changed the carpets-

 

"So now I'm a carpet soiler?!"

 

A slight pause.

 

"Yes?"

 

"Eh."

 

The two hang a sharp right and count off the numbers by the rooms. The backstage of the arena is awfully quiet, even for four days out from a big show. Usually for a Pay Per View, the backstage area was packed with other wrestlers who spent most of their day at the arena, working out or hanging out, but you'd never know it from today. A low rumble of distant thunder, then quiet again.

 

"So anyway," Edwin pipes up, "about this Sunday... I don't know what Wilson's planning, bu-"

 

He stops, and turns. Raynor's stopped a few feet behind him, staring curiously at an open door. But not just any door...

 

"Edwin..." Chris says slowly... "Why is The Clan's locker room door open?"

 

"I dunno... should we be worried?"

 

"I dunno..." Raynor takes a few steps closer to it. "I've always wanted a peek at what they've got going on in here... and a Carny always travels prepared." He taps his gym bag and grins a knowing grin to Edwin. "When's the last time we had a good ole' fashioned pranking?"

 

"A reasonable question... but let's save it for later, ok? I want to go over some things."

 

Raynor turns back. "Sure. Sorry." The two once again continue their trek down the impossibly long hallway, discussing... things...

 

-=-=-Some Time Later-=-=-

 

"What the hell do I have to do to get a drink around here?" Raynor says aloud, trying desperately to find the vending machines before his trip to the hotel. A nearby staffer points down the hallway. Raynor nods to him and follows the directions. Alas, there are no vending machines at the end of the hallway, just a left and a right turn. He's tempted to go back and beat the man with his plushy gym bag, but instead shrugs and mentally flips a coin.

 

Tails. Left.

 

He hangs the left and keeps his eyes peeled for-

 

Huh.

 

Well look at that.

 

The Clan lockerroom door is still ajar. Not wide open, but enough to sneak a pick, stick in a hand. It's predictably dark inside, from what Raynor can see... a quick flash of lightning lights it up, but it's too far closed to see anything. Raynor looks at his watch... only 5:30... He glances down at his bag... The rain doesn't seem to be letting up, he thinks... maybe just... one prank.

 

He stealthily sneaks up to the door, and slides it open gently. He then puts his back to the frame and scoots in through the opening, ever so slowly and quietly. He turns and closes the door behind him, then surveys the room. A dissapointment. Like a boy going into the girl's bathroom, it's not nearly as great as the picture your imagination paints. The lockerroom seems normal enough... The grey from outside is enough to allow vision, but the color and tone of the room is very depressing.

 

"Well," Raynor says as he flips on the lights, "it won't be like this for long-

 

A voice suddenly cuts in, "Would you mind turning that off?"

 

Raynor's head snaps around to see Durandal sitting on a table, feet propped on a chair below him, brandishing an icepick. Against his good judgement, Raynor holds his ground, while conceding to the light request.

 

"Thank you," Durandal says, without looking up. "It's just easier on my eyes. I'm sure you know how it is."

 

A loud crack of thunder, another flash of lightning, and the rain begins to fall slightly faster as Raynor freezes, looking like a bizarre cross between a deer in the headlights and a six-year-old who just got pantsed at school. Durandal faces out the window, the occasional bolt of lightning leaving his silhouette visible.

 

"What did you have in mind, Raynor? Bucket of maple syrup, then covering me in feathers? It's been done. Z and Ced, back in the JL. That night, I beat the god-loving shit out of Z and won my first SJL World Championship. Doctor my champagne to turn my mouth green and give me the runs? Talk to Ash. He's got a whole fat lot of nothing now."

 

"I was just thinking how your locker room could use a little brightening up, that's all." Raynor flicks the lights back on, showing Durandal not quite dressed for his match, still in a pair of cargo jeans with his Clan robe nowhere in sight.

 

"What's in your bag, Raynor? A bag full of dog shit? Fake snot? Maybe you were going to replace my black mist tablets with Viagra or my icepick with a dildo?"

 

Raynor chuckles. "Come on now, give me some credit. I'm a little more original than that."

 

"Maybe you were hoping to roll me up in a carpet and throw me off a bridge."

 

Raynor snickers at the Simpsons reference, and musters up the courage to approach the table. Durandal produces a whetstone and begins scraping his icepick across it, sharpening the end. The scraping is the only sound for several seconds, before Durandal speaks again...

 

"Do you know what you did, last Storm?"

 

"I whooped your BUTT and took your title, if my memory serves."

 

"Yes, heh... your memory serves..." Durandal's attention stays on his icepick as he sharpens it. Raynor flinches at a loud thunderblast, then turns to look at Durandal, who still just keeps scraping away. There is a long silence, awkward for Raynor and exactly what Durandal wants.

 

"Well? Is it everything you dreamed of?"

 

"Huh?" Raynor looks confused.

 

"The room!" Durandal raises both arms and motions around. "After all, you have always wanted a look inside, to see what goes on in here, right?"

 

"Christ, that was three hours ago... you've been sitting here the whole time?"

 

"Not quite what you expected, is it?" Durandal continues, ignoring the obvious question. "Thought there'd be cobwebs, maybe? A cauldron over a fire? Candles, Satanic marks, that sort of thing?"

 

"I sure as hell didn't expect it to look so normal."

 

"Sorry to dissapoint."

 

Another loooong silence, and it's clear that Raynor's nerve is wearing thin. He stands awkwardly, wondering what he's gotten himself into. The rain slows down outside, and in comparison now Durandal's voice seems much louder.

 

"What now, Raynor?" Durandal smirks, keeping his eyes off of his intended target. "Your honor as a Carny has surely been tainted - getting caught during a prank? For shame... tsk tsk tsk."

 

"I will admit," Raynor hesitantly responds, "that this is a bit embarassing... but it's nothing a little silly string, stuffed animals, and a jar of relish won't fix."

 

"You don't have relish."

 

Raynor steps forward as he uses his free hand to procure a small jar from his gym bag. Durandal simply cracks a grin.

 

"That IS original..."

 

...and with that Durandal throws a superkick, cracking Raynor in the face and sending him stumbling backwards! Calmly, Durandal hops off the table and spins around, hitting Raynor in the face with a palm strike, knocking him to the floor. Durandal then kneels down, straddling Raynor and wielding the icepick. Raynor's confidence is broken, a look of fear takes over, but still he tries to hold his ground even as Durandal stiffs him in the forehead to calm his nerves.

 

"I asked if you knew what you did last Storm..."

 

Durandal's cheery grin turns suddenly twisted, and he quickly slashes the icepick across Raynor's forehead, leaving a thin line of skin sliced open.

 

"Judging from your answer... you DON'T..."

 

As Raynor begins to bleed, Durandal drags him out of the locker room and boots him arrogantly in the ribs.

 

"Step right up," he chuckles as he walks back into the room and shuts the door.

[Guest Insanityman]

A loud crack of thunder, another flash of lightning, and the rain begins to fall slightly faster as Raynor freezes, looking like a bizarre cross between a deer in the headlights and a six-year-old who just got pantsed at school. Durandal stands up and faces out the window, the occasional bolt of lightning leaving his silhouette visible.

 

"What's in your bag, Raynor? A bag full of dog shit? Fake snot? Maybe you were going to replace my black mist tablets with Viagra or my icepick with a dildo?"

 

Raynor chuckles. "Come on now, give me some credit. I'm a little more original than that."

Those lines were awesome, good job and I am surprised the Carnie didn't hit the prank, two groundbreaking promos each in it's own way. Fun stuff. I was already going to read the US match but now I think I'll read the whole thing rather than skim .

[Guest Beingz0wningj00]

Bah @ you guys having this mean feud...

 

 

*brings relish to match*

[Guest Rabbi_wilson13]

What the hell is this?! I feuded with you for four months and not once did I stop your prank. Fleshandal gets it on his first try?! He's a lucky son of a gun.

 

Excellent promo as always Raynor. Nice to see your settled in out West and ready to get back down to business.

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

We're tollin', tollin', tollin', tollin', WHAT?

 

And, ahem, very good. People occasionally forget that Raynor can do damn fine serious promos too. Glad you got me out of the way before the ice-pick action, and super stuff.

[Guest HVilleThugg]

I hate all of you!

 

You all wait till I retire before you start breaking out the angles and mad promos!

 

Awsome promo there Rayn man...awsome indeed.

 

"Regardless, they take on the hallway side by side, and kick it's proverbial ass by walking right through it."

 

That line was great!!! LOL!

 

Da "returning as a ghost like G" H

[Guest Tyler McClelland]

Thugg, you can come back if you want...

 

...as long as you stay off the lawn.

 

Damn peddler.

[Guest HVilleThugg]

Can I be the lawn enforcer??

 

When 'Cast tells someone to get off his lawn, HVT will suddenly be able to walk and will take care of the problem. Of course, afterwards, he'll crumple into a heap once he remembers that he has a broken neck!

 

Da "is he faking it" H

[Guest Ace309]

I'd sell for Thugg, even if he had a broken neck.

 

And Cast, can I walk on your lawn if I accidentally hit my ball onto it?

[Guest -Cutthroat-]

Enogh with Outcast's dam lawn! Great promo...I can see why you're were you are today Chris! Great stuff...

[Guest HVilleThugg]

*stabs Cutthroat in the throat*

 

NEVER...EVER...SPEAK ILL OF THE LAWN!! EVER!!!

 

Da "warning you" H

[Guest hhh6294]

*~* Jake curses at the grass *~*

 

*~* Jake then tramples the flower beds once again *~*

[Guest -Cutthroat-]

*Cutthroat set's Outcast's law on fire and says Ben Hardy did it and everybody belives him*

[Guest HVilleThugg]

Outcast is going to kill all of you...

 

Da "wishes he wasn't crippled" H

[Guest -Cutthroat-]

Uh-oh! I better get out my army of cardboard-standup Cutthroats!

[Guest Beingz0wningj00]

*burns all the stand up Cutthroats, accidently burns the real one too... although it wasn't really an accident*

 

 

Hey Thugg... you ever think that the reason we have more writers is because Summer is up, and people have more free time?

 

 

 

BONG!!!!!!111

[Guest hhh6294]

*~* Jake torches JD's unit and makes him eat the remains... and then tramples Outcast's flower bed again *~*

 

B) boo yeah. B)

[Guest -Cutthroat-]

Cutthroat uses his migikle powers of money to bring them all back to cradboardness...

 

 

What!?

 

The he hits the Twizter, Mac Stunner, and a Backflip on JD!

[Guest Ash Ketchum]

*Ash manicures the lawn*

 

Ta-da!

[Guest Drew_K]

Sweet work, Chris. Loved how the fun and the seriousness both came off so well, and you really kept the mood for both parts, creating an interesting dichotomy between the two.

 

In other words.... Sweeeeet.

[Guest Tyler McClelland]

Alright, motherfuckers... Thugg is on board.

 

I'm putting him in control of instant electrocutions and beatings for everyone that steps on the lawn. Get... the... hell... off... my... lawn!

 

And Jake... oh, you're gonna get it...

 

Damn peddler.

[Guest kelloggs]

Make a mental note 'Casts lawn is not to be stepped on...

 

By the way Rayn this was a tight promo. The imagery was nice and there was many a golden line.

 

M. Francis