Post by J-TV on Jul 1, 2024 7:00:20 GMT
Coming to you live and in color from J-TV Studios...
A wide drone shot over the moonlit skies of Cleveland Ohio sweep through the streets and over the chandelier of Playhouse Square as the familiar male voiceover delivers a not-so-familiar message over the punchy horns of the music.
...In beautiful Cleveland, Ohio. This is Hathaway, LIVE!
The drone swings sharply around a large warehouse lit up with colorful spotlights lined along the streets, bright purples, yellows, and blues swing and dip across the brick wall of the warehouse, topped with a massive neon sign on the roof, buzzing with life.
The bay doors of the warehouse slowly begin to open, smoke, lasers, and thumping music pouring from within as the drone goes low and dives inside. Inside 'J-TV Studios' is an entire makeshift television set; A desk in front of a curtain backdrop airbrushed with the Television and Gladiator titles, a wall of old CRT televisions all playing the broadcast feed from the drone, a pair of 'exotically-dressed' women in go-go dance cages hanging from the ceiling, bobbing and swaying to the horns of the music, and a set of bleachers full of roaring IWF fans personally invited to the set by our esteemed host of the night. Robbie the Camera Guy looks up at the drone from below, the controller for it in his hands as he gives it a tongue-out smile.
Now, Give it up for your host... He is the IWF Television and Gladiator Champion, He is The Antimatter Man himself, J-TV, JASON HATHAWAY!
The studio audience comes alive with applause and cheers as a third dance cage lowers from the ceiling down towards the center of the set, Inside, Jason Hathaway holds the bars of his cage as he swings and gyrates to the music, wearing a slick navy-blue suit with a black-and-white checkered tie, his hair tied up into a high ponytail, and the sickest damned penny loafers you ever did see. As the cage meets the floor, the other two cages lower and open. The two girls dance towards Hathaway's cage, each holding up a money gun and showering J-TV with red hot American dollar bills as he pushes the door to his cage open and showers in the green.
Once the guns are empty, the dancers drop them and move in on Hathaway, gripping his suit and pulling it from both ends, revealing it's a tearaway; Underneath is a TDH tanktop, with the three letters crossed out and replaced with, what else, the letters JTV. As the music comes to a climax, Jason raises his arms out and yells to the crowd as loud as he can.
Once the guns are empty, the dancers drop them and move in on Hathaway, gripping his suit and pulling it from both ends, revealing it's a tearaway; Underneath is a TDH tanktop, with the three letters crossed out and replaced with, what else, the letters JTV. As the music comes to a climax, Jason raises his arms out and yells to the crowd as loud as he can.
"LET'S FUCKIN' GOOO!"
Jason jumps up and lands in time with the final note of the intro song, bowing to the applause Robbie quickly runs in with a mircophone on a stand, setting it in front of Jason and ducking out of sight just as fast. Hathaway smiles and waves for the crowd to simmer down.
"Thank you! Thank you so much! Tonight, you guys are part of something special. Tonight, here at J-TV Studios, we're putting on the first ever LIVE Promo, Unscripted, Uncensored, Anything Goes. It wouldn't be possible if you guys hadn't answered the call and showed up, so truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you all."
Jason bows to his adoring hometown crowd as chants of 'J-TV' begin to break through the studio audience. Jason places a hand over his chest and blows a kiss to the camera, which has now switched to a steady-cam placed in front of him. The drone can be seen landing down on the desk behind Hathaway as he continues.
"This is going to be a lot of fun, and I have a lot of stuff planned for this. J-TV will continue, of course, so don't you fret about that."
Jason quickly checks his watch and shakes his head. Robbie rushes in behind him and collects the drone, nearly tripping on a wire in the process.
"We have a lot to talk about tonight, but I have to catch a flight to Saitama in just a few hours, so I'm gonna spare you the monologue on everything you can expect from this show, and just implore you to say tuned, and don't miss a minute of it. I wanna thank the two beautiful dancers for helping me with that open. I have it on good authority that they aren't friends with my next opponent, so there's no conflict of interest there."
The dancers smile and wiggle their fingers towards Jason and the studio audience. Hathaway grins and raises a finger toward them. "You know, interestingly... neither of these incredible talents have been sloppily kissed by an IWF talent yet. You know how hard it's getting to find those types? In fact, let's talk about that for a minute..."
The TV wall behind J-TV flashes to a single image as he steps aside so the camera and crowd can see it.
The TV's split again, each one now displaying on-camera smooching that's happened on IWF programming in just the last week alone.
Abigail and Eternity
Vivienne Rodgers and Cyrus Daniels
Charlotte Shimizu and Pax Stormcrow
RAM and his bloated self-confidence
"And this is just one week, folks. I gotta tell you, I'm glad I haven't seen any of Madjinn's garbage, because this is a live show and seven second delay isn't long enough to save your eyeballs from that level of degeneracy. That's coming from a man who spent all day yesterday learning to shake his ass in a cage for a bit. Now, I know just as well as anybody that sex sells, but I really don't need to see Cryrus and Vivienne's foreplay while I'm warming up for my match by the monitor, especially when I'm stuck teaming up with with a girl like Holmes, whose guts are as ugly as her face is cute."
As Jason is speaking, the TV's show one more kiss, this one displaying on every screen. It's Nate Harris, kissing his dear boyfriend, Jack Ferriman.
The dancers smile and wiggle their fingers towards Jason and the studio audience. Hathaway grins and raises a finger toward them. "You know, interestingly... neither of these incredible talents have been sloppily kissed by an IWF talent yet. You know how hard it's getting to find those types? In fact, let's talk about that for a minute..."
The TV wall behind J-TV flashes to a single image as he steps aside so the camera and crowd can see it.
The TV's split again, each one now displaying on-camera smooching that's happened on IWF programming in just the last week alone.
Abigail and Eternity
Vivienne Rodgers and Cyrus Daniels
Charlotte Shimizu and Pax Stormcrow
RAM and his bloated self-confidence
"And this is just one week, folks. I gotta tell you, I'm glad I haven't seen any of Madjinn's garbage, because this is a live show and seven second delay isn't long enough to save your eyeballs from that level of degeneracy. That's coming from a man who spent all day yesterday learning to shake his ass in a cage for a bit. Now, I know just as well as anybody that sex sells, but I really don't need to see Cryrus and Vivienne's foreplay while I'm warming up for my match by the monitor, especially when I'm stuck teaming up with with a girl like Holmes, whose guts are as ugly as her face is cute."
As Jason is speaking, the TV's show one more kiss, this one displaying on every screen. It's Nate Harris, kissing his dear boyfriend, Jack Ferriman.
Suddenly the sound of an elephant's cry echoes through the room, and Jason stumbles back, nearly falling onto his ass as he gawks and points at something offscreen, the crowd shrieks as the camera shakes. Finally it swings around to look upon the massive, wrinkled, horned behemoth approaching our brave host! That's right, it's the elephant in the room, it's...!
A life size cardboard pop-out of The Black Widow.
"No, I didn't get an actual elephant for the show. That'd be stupid, and you're stupid if you think I would do that." Jason deadpans, walking over looping an arm around the cutout's dull, papery shoulders. "Just a metaphorical one. It was going to be a Serenity Holmes cut-out, but it didn't show up on time."
Ba-dum-tiss
"No, blatant misogyny towards my former rival's dumpster of a woman aside, There is an elephant in the room we need to talk about tonight, and... you know? I think that person might prefer to be called a 'Unicorn'."
Jason walks back to the stage as colorful confetti and rainbow streamers fall from the ceiling. Hathaway pulls out a little unicorn horn from his back pocket and straps it onto onto his forehead, cracking a cheeky grin at the camera.
"Nate Harris, I gotta tell you, I have never had the privilege or pleasure of punching such a pretty man. I don't know if you've kept up with my career so far, but my opponents? They haven't been lookers. Malo's in a mask, Logan Sky is old as my nan's laserdisc player, TJ Alexander has those weird lips, Madjinn looks almost as sleazy as he smells. Hell, the only cute things I've been in the ring with is Serenity Holmes and Robbie in a suit of armor."
"Aww, you thought I was cute, Jay?"
Jason crosses his arms over his chest and smiles.
"I've seen beyond your metal shell, Robert. I know your heart."
The crowd aww's Jason returns to the topic at hand.
"I like you, Harris. Hell, I have to like you, with all that smoke you blew up my ass. The thing is, I'm not quite sure why you think we're anything alike. You've said it yourself, you've been at this a while, and... well, you don't have a lot to show for it. Meanwhile, In only eight matches, I've yet to be pinned, knocked down one of the biggest egos in the entirety of the IWF, took his belt, and nobody has been able to touch me."
Jason pauses, leaning on the mic stand as a devilish grin crosses his lips.
"But I've done some touching, Nate. Ask your boyfriend how my hands felt."
Jason pauses, leaning on the mic stand as a devilish grin crosses his lips.
"But I've done some touching, Nate. Ask your boyfriend how my hands felt."
J-TV raises his hands defensively as the crowd murmurs and grows hushed.
"Did Jack ever tell you? How I beat the ever-loving shit out of him and pinned him to the ground? Does it bother you, knowing how badly I humiliated him? Does it make you angry that somebody you love so much got their self-confidence downsized by a straight white boy who could outdance you in a cage any damned day of the week?"
"Did Jack ever tell you? How I beat the ever-loving shit out of him and pinned him to the ground? Does it bother you, knowing how badly I humiliated him? Does it make you angry that somebody you love so much got their self-confidence downsized by a straight white boy who could outdance you in a cage any damned day of the week?"
A rolling office chair slides in from off camera, and without missing a beat, Jason falls back onto it and crosses his legs, pulling the microphone off the stand and taking it with him as he rolls the chair back to the desk, and reaches underneath it.
"I don't need a piece of ass to be noticed. I don't need social media; I don't need the gram. I'm so damned good, that people sit their ass down and turn on a television, they pay for cable programming in 2024 purely to see me. You know why?"
Jason pulls up the TV and Gladiator belts, setting them on the desk in front of him as the camera moves in closer to the desk.
"Because while you purse your little lips, take fifty pictures of yourself in front of a beach, do a hundred reps with two extra spotters on each end... I'm living and breathing these belts, baby. I ain't got time for a woman, and no woman could keep up with me anyways. I ain't got time for a home life, because I live in every single arena we put our shows in. And I sure as hell ain't got time for friends, because I know they're all gonna come for this eventually. And they'll have to pry it from my cold, dead hands."
"Hey, now."
"Present company excepted, of course Robbie." Hathaway smiles at his only pal as he stands up from the desk and hoists his belts over each shoulder, stepping out from behind the desk and walking toward the camera. "I've got a flight to catch, but once I've landed... expect a few more treats for IWF Extra, and be sure to sign up for the next Hathaway Live, because while Nate Harris is certainly serving cunt-ertainment, the only place you're gonna get the entertainment you need, that good shit you want so bad...
Is J. T. V.
"I don't need a piece of ass to be noticed. I don't need social media; I don't need the gram. I'm so damned good, that people sit their ass down and turn on a television, they pay for cable programming in 2024 purely to see me. You know why?"
Jason pulls up the TV and Gladiator belts, setting them on the desk in front of him as the camera moves in closer to the desk.
"Because while you purse your little lips, take fifty pictures of yourself in front of a beach, do a hundred reps with two extra spotters on each end... I'm living and breathing these belts, baby. I ain't got time for a woman, and no woman could keep up with me anyways. I ain't got time for a home life, because I live in every single arena we put our shows in. And I sure as hell ain't got time for friends, because I know they're all gonna come for this eventually. And they'll have to pry it from my cold, dead hands."
"Hey, now."
"Present company excepted, of course Robbie." Hathaway smiles at his only pal as he stands up from the desk and hoists his belts over each shoulder, stepping out from behind the desk and walking toward the camera. "I've got a flight to catch, but once I've landed... expect a few more treats for IWF Extra, and be sure to sign up for the next Hathaway Live, because while Nate Harris is certainly serving cunt-ertainment, the only place you're gonna get the entertainment you need, that good shit you want so bad...
Is J. T. V.
Well howdy there pardner.