Post by Malaki Toala on Nov 24, 2013 4:47:51 GMT
The night lights of Dubai glare through the windows of a relatively grim American styled diner as Joey Leroux and Malaki Toala sit, rather cramped, in a booth together. Several plates covered in burgers, hot dogs and macaroni cheese are scattered in front of the big Samoan who is filling his face gleefully whilst Joey hold a bag of peas over a black eye.
Joey Leroux: You’re friends sure now you pack a punch…
Malaki Toala: You ran onto the pitch, you do realise that was stupid, right?
He doesn’t.
Joey Leroux: I was just eager to meet you.
Malaki stops eating, slightly concerned that he may, very possibly, be eating a meal with a stalker.
Joey Leroux: I mean in a professional sense. Not in a creepy way.
Malaki Toala: Sure…
Relief. Well, momentarily at least, as Malaki tucks back into his burger.
Joey Leroux: You sure are hungry aren’t you…
Malaki Toala: You said you were paying…
As with anything Joey Leroux says, it shouldn’t be trusted. Quite how he plans to pay for a meal when his wallet is currently in the possession of the United Arab Emirates border agency is anybody’s guess.
Joey Leroux: Yeah, but I didn’t mean to eat the entire cow.
Malaki Toala: I have a big appetite, I have to keep my strength up.
Joey gulps, still completely dwarfed in the booth.
Joey Leroux: Yes… quite…
Joey shuffles forward awkwardly as Malaki tucks into yet another burger, this time with extra cheese.
Joey Leroux: So, I heard you and Brett had a thing going on…
Malaki Toala: What do you mean, a thing?
Joey Leroux: Erm, anything that will not result in you ripping my head off?
The truth is, those options are pretty limited when it comes to Joey. He could make writing a charitable cheque for a donation end up with deprived elderly people wanting to commit murder. Unfortunately for humanity there is a precedent here after an ill fortuned attempt to improve one of his boxing client’s images. Sadly that boxer had the morals of Mike Tyson and old people don’t take kindly to right hooks.
Malaki Toala: We have a contract agreement, sure.
Joey Leroux: Did you sign it?
Malaki Toala: No, I didn’t get a chance, the police wanted me to make a statement about your attempted assault.
Joey Leroux: They really thought I could beat you up.
Malaki laughs, although to be fair to him few people could hold in their amusement at such a suggestion, so we can’t condemn him too much.
Malaki Toala: No, they were more worried you were going to streak and with the finals tomorrow they’d rather avoid any infringements on the decency law. The fact that a female steward managed to restrain you removed any fears of a violent threat.
Joey Leroux: That was a girl!?
Yes, Joey. Women can be stewards too, let’s get back to the 21st century.
Joey Leroux: Look, I have to admit, I have ulterior motives for bringing you here. There’s something you need to know about Brett…
Malaki Toala: I’m listening.
Joey Leroux: The reason he’s trying to recruit you… well it’s a little embarrassing really, and he swore me to secrecy but…
Malaki Toala: Just spit it out.
Joey Leroux: He wants to have you fight homeless people for money. I normally wouldn’t say anything, but I felt that in this instance it would be wrong of me not to…
Malaki cocks and eyebrow, before continuing eating.
Malaki Toala: You’re an awful liar.
Joey Leroux: It’s the God’s honest truth, I swear on my mother’s grave.
Joey’s mother is alive and well. She lives with his father in a rather expensive part of town. And is in better health than Joey himself.
Malaki Toala: He said you might try this.
Joey Leroux: Try what?
Malaki Toala: To sign me up. He said you’d make up some dumb rumour, ply me with food and then try to entice me into some stupid endeavour which would inevitably end in failure.
Joey Leroux: That wasn’t a rumour! Sir, you offend me!
Joey slides to the end of the booth and tries to stand up, feigning outrage but before he can a large paw grasps his arm.
Malaki Toala: He also said you’d try to leave without paying.
Joey Leroux: That son of a bitch has ruined my whole routine!
Thank God that’s over.
Erm, Joey.
Those two gave me about as much quality material as a Bangladeshi sweat factory.
I don’t think…
Seriously, it’s like they just opened up a kindergartner’s guide to playground insults and threw up on the monitor.
Joey…
What is it?
The camera is still rolling.
What!? Why? We’re done here.
You do realise they expect two promotional videos this week, don’t you.
He really doesn’t, but, in typical form Joey fakes it until he makes it… well, makes a mess of it, either way.
Two!? Those monsters! What do they think I am, an endurance athlete? Don’t they realise I completely exhausted my material like the other two?
You know, I could always do this one.
Joey raises a finger to Malaki’s lips, instantly disturbing the big Samoan who isn’t quite sure if Joey is coming on to him or trying to poke his eye and lacks the height to do so.
No! Our contract specifically states that I do all of your media appearances, apart from autographs signings because touching children disgusts me.
It disgusts everybody Joey.
Then perhaps you should get to work before you end up on some sort of register.
Malaki nods his head at the camera, subtly remind Joey he is indeed being film. Yes, we’ve seen and heard way too much already.
I don’t believe this, I make a perfect dinosaur and extinction analogy and now literally all of that hard laid work is completely ruined because for some reason people want to pay to see me tell you both that you’re about as competent at your job as George Zimmerman and as likely to get your head kicked in too.
It’s like somebody out there just doesn’t like dinosaurs.
Weirdo’s.
You know, I almost feel guilty even standing here, you seem to be both pretty absorbed with one another and I feel like a bit of a third wheel in a rather homoerotic “bros night in” as it is. It’s like you started talking about my client and your eyes met across a crowded room and all of that romantic razamataz.
Ironically it’s probably going to end up like a first date this weekend, the pair of you will be laid on your books full of regret with a hint of shame. Unfortunately your walk back home is going to be in front of a packed Madison Square Garden which is slightly more awkward than the white picket walk way to the nearest Starbucks where you indulge your girlfriends on the nights events.
Joey, you should show these guys more respect…
Why? They didn’t show you any. They acted like you’re a complete retard whose just there to provide some sort of comic relief whilst they have their “super serious bromantic show down”. If Lancelot and BLT wanted to be treated like human beings they wouldn’t have degraded themselves live on camera with complete garbage.
I mean, they spent most of the week basically planning to throw this party without us.
Which is going to be pretty damn awkward when we crash it. I just hope there are Dorito’s and dip or else their plans really will have been a complete failure.
Joey pauses and winks, raising a thumb. Another cheap advertising opportunity accomplished. Yay capitalism.
Looks, boys, I’d really like to indulge you both with lengthy prose about how you both suck, but in different shades of suckage and go into immense detail about both of your careers and how this is going to be a real honour and the usual boring crap we’re expected to dispense but to be blunt, the pair of you really increased my desire to punch a baby camel repeatedly and I’m fairly sure PETA frown on that.
And I can’t afford another one of their lawsuits.
Don’t ask. No, really, don’t.
Bates, let’s be brutally honest. As much as people want to make you out to be a big deal of some kind, the fact is that in this match you’re like the Diet Legend and the only reason you’re some sort of attraction is because people, for whatever reason love car wrecks and freaks shows. And bizarre roleplays where you pretend to… well I think be me?
I’m not sure it all get very convoluted and a bit disturbing half of the way through. Ok I lied, it was disturbing from the outset. But sadly we can’t erase it from the history books, it’s out there, but then I guess so was Jersey Shore.
You know if you spent just half the time you waste trying to have a nervous breakdown on live television actually engaging your brain you’d perhaps be partially threatening as opposed to incredibly disturbing. It isn’t big and it isn’t clever to try to pretend to be somebody when you have the acting talents of Paris Hilton on speed.
We get it, you think my client is big and dumb because he doesn’t speak much and he’s taller than you. Fantastic. Real original, with that sort of material in your arsenal it surprises me that you haven’t won a Pulitzer. Why don’t you write the next blockbuster with the next tiresome stereotype which falls into your head. Perhaps you could write a Flintstones sequel, because Lord knows we haven’t had enough complete hatchet jobs of childhood favourites recently.
But enough of the latter day Shakespeare, I suppose it’ll be apt to end where this company’s legacy started.
Spike’s Disciple, Lance.
Yeah, don’t worry, I wasn’t going to ignore the whole BFF thing you’ve got going on over there, I know you were quite proud of surprising everybody by helping Spike mutilate somebody. I guess it did make most people forget about the fact your got embarrassed by a rookie only half an hour or so earlier.
You might have ring intellect, but you obviously think we all have the attention span of a fish.
Though it’s ok, right? Malaki doesn’t talk much so that means he can’t “rassle” or whatever it is the redneck are saying these days. Again, can you please remind where it says that a mute is incapable of slapping you around like a cheap bitch because I wasn’t aware that pro-wrestling was a debate circuit.
Because if it is, I really feel for the pair of you two if this week’s oratory offerings is anything to go by.
Look, I understand, you’re more concerned with the devil you know than the one you don’t, familiarity breeds laziness though my friend and after sitting through you telling Bates how dumb he is, I have a feeling that you’re going to end up concentrating too much on your easiest task this week. Don’t get me wrong, it made me chuckle but when push comes to shove, Malaki can push a damn sight harder than some pseudo-intellectual.
You already highlighted this with your half-hearted pleas for team work, but I am guessing that after the latest exchange that union has run its course.
I know sometimes it is difficult for a man of your age to concentrate on two things at once, but perhaps next time, instead of dribbling over Bates and spewing out a bunch of pro Empire propaganda you could take a little time to talk to the most realistic threat to your body this weekend, even if you aren’t quite sure what to make of him.
You aren’t the first to be awestruck by him, and you won’t be the last.
I can guarantee to the pair of you that once the week is through, you’ll have plenty to say and one things for sure, you won’t be forgetting the name Malaki Toala in a hurry.
Well howdy there pardner.