Post by Freakke on Sept 25, 2016 19:33:15 GMT
The Freakke sits in a polite fashion. He seems pressed and cleanly colored against the blank white background. His image shifts between each of his colors. They take little more than a moment each but it cycles through them all until in reaches the serious and defined white and black attire and paints. His postures is sharp and rigid as he finally opens his mouth to speak. There's an intensity in his eyes before everything stops. Like some old VHS tape being stopped mid scene the screen is interrupted with a small distortion. Its fairly jarring.
From off of the right side of the screen, a green Freakke pokes his head in a bit nervous a moment. He smiles nervously and waves to the viewers. After a moment of this short greeting, the Carnival King smiles a bit more warmly and steps fully into view, blocking the somber scene behind himself. His hands fold behind his back as he relaxes a moment.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, cretins one and all! Well, its time folks, we're here. Extreme Endurance. We pulled through in the three previous matches. Hell we're up two pinfalls even. That said, the last few weeks I've been trying to do some rather artsy bullshit that every so often, a clown going through a midlife crisis probably has to go through once or twice. Can't deny, occassionally I write and do some pretentious nonsense. So, as heavy as its ben these last few weeks, I figured it'd be nice to step back and have a bit of fun. Or. As the great troupe Monty Python would say, And Now For Something Completely Different."
The scene changes abruptly entirely.
There is now a green Freakke in what appears to be a mid 60's style three piece suit and a matching bowler. He has a horrifically fake mustache and seems to be staring off into the distance. He stands there a moment. His standing there and posturing is almost comically overdone, lasting a beat too long. It doesn't change however as a second, superimposed Freakke in orange steps onto the screen. This one is wearing rubber boots, rolled up trousers and a button up shirt, with a wool vest over top, suspenders, a toothbrush mustache and a tied napkin on his head. His shoulders and posture are stiff and his movements awkward. This Freakke stares off to the side, completely missing where the other is standing by a few feet.
Again, they stand a moment too long. The awkward pause is then interrupted by a loud strained word from the orange Freakke.
"HELLLO!"
The green Freakke seems to snap out of his practiced pose and then looks round to find where his super imposed other. He's off by about a foot.
"HELLLO!!"
"H-hello. Can I help you?"
"HELLLO!"
A pause.
"Hi..."
Another pause.
"ARR YUU A WRESSALLAR?"
"What?"
"ARE YOU AAA REESSTLAR?"
"Yes! Why do you ask?"
"MY BRAINE HURRTS!"
"What?"
"MY BRRAAINN HHURTTS!"
"OK...why do you need a wrestler then?"
Yet another pause.
"HELLO!"
The green Freakke looked to where the other would be standing. After a moment he seems to have an understanding.
"Oh! Your a Gumby. Oh man thats an old sketch."
"HEELLLOO!"
The green Freakke looks annoyed.
"MY BRAIN HHURTS!"
"Yeah mine too. Alright, lets do this."
The green suited Freakke takes his coat off and then rolls up his sleeves. As he does, he takes the folder kerchief from his breast pocket and ties the corners into knots. He places the cloth on his head and for a second seems fine, then he speaks.
"HHHEELLO!"
"ARE YUUWW A WRESTALR?"
"NO!....YES! YES I AM A WRESSALAR!"
"MMY BRAIN HURRTSS!"
"OKAY! KNOW WHAT TO DO!"
There's an obvious cut as the green Freakke picks up a shoddy dummy that has replaced the orange and then drops it on its head.
"ALL FIXED!"
"THHANK YOUU!"
A pause.
"...MY BRAIN HHURTS TOO!"
---
The scene cuts back to the interrupted white Freakke in the chair. His face unfreezing after a moment.
"Here we are my dear cretins, our endurance has paid off. The determination and the effort we've taken so far is coming to a head, but we haven't hit that line yet. Not yet. Not even after Extreme Endurance. Winning this match is the beginning. The line I like to talk about, that place where we find the edge of ourselves and throw each other over, it's new every time we step in the ring but I've found that this time its different. Two peaks. Yeah, two goals, two lines. Extreme Endurance. Then Invictus. I have to push forward through both lines now."
"The ultimate goal is the Invictus title but lets not get too ahead of ourselves now. We'll never make it to the top if we can't even get over the first hill. Keep your chins up though because we're going up and above and beyond this time. On the way to Invictus, we have to take on fire itself. Uncontrolled and wild but fast burning and soon subsiding fire. Once more we face the Pheonix. This ti..."
The creen freezes again.
---
Green Freakke once more.
"No seriously. There's been a whole lot of that lately. Not enough of this."
The scene is now a gym. There are five Freakke's now. The green stands apart while a blue, red, orange, and yellow stand aside. The four are wearing wearing cheap paper masks of the four other contenders. Blue wears Mason, Red Pheonix, Orange has Wallace, and Yellow Steele. The solitary green has a fake mustache on. They are all in what seems to be mid 60's gym clothes.
"RIGHT! I am now going to show you, how to beat multiple opponents, who rush you with fruit all at once."
"You mean like this?"
The Steele masked Yellow Freakke tries to overenthusiastically stab the Red Freakke in the Pheonix mask with a banana. Having none of this, the Pheonix masked Red Freakke dispatches the yellow with a painted cap gun. They all gasp a moment as the yellow superimposed Freakke overdramatically dies.
"Alright now! None of that! Now, I need you to come at me with your fruits..."
The orange Freakke lunges forward and the green Freakke drops a two ton weight on him.
"Now you see, the uses if a two ton weight to defeat an enemy armed with...I believe it was grapefruit. Grapefruit? Grapefruit."
"You killed him though."
"Shut up."
The green Freakke throws a bag of popcorn at the red and then the blue Freakke spontaneously combusts in a loud flash of smoke and light and an obvious scene cut.
"Well...that was unexpected...RELEASE THE LIONS!"
Nothing happens.
"Huh...not in budget I suppose..."
---
Back to the blank background. The monochrome Freakke unfreezes again.
"This time it's for everything we've fought for this last few weeks. There is no just surviving this match. It's win or lose and we both know what that means. It means no stops. No breaks. No letting up. All or nothing for the victory. We both know the other is prepared for that. We both know we can push ourselves forward and give that all. That's not the question. The question is, now that its just the two of us again, who will come out on top. Who pulls the win from the other? Its anybody's game it would seem. Then again, maybe not. We've put ourselves through so much leading up to this. We've already laid it out there and here we are. This always was an endurance match. We just have to see who has it left in the tank. The Pheonix who will rise again and again, or the stubborn Fool who refuses to give in? The fire that's already burned brightly so far or the laughing lunatic who will break himself for the victory."
"A question it seems to me so easy."
---
There is no interruption this time as a short skit plays. There are two people dressed as the red and green Freakkes. They have Freakke's head superimposed over the green and Pheonix's over the red. The red Freakke dances in and out, slapping the green Freakke in the face with two tiny fish to the pace of music. This goes on a moment or two before the music stops and the green Freakke reaches behind himself and pulls out a very large fish shaped steel chair and knocks the red Freakke off the dock and into the water. The camera zooms in as he reaches up to 'grab' the superimposed Freakke face and yanks away at it, revealing he pulled off instead a balaclava and was the real Freakke all along.
"This Extreme Endurance! Don't miss Freakke vs Mike Pheonix where I put that *a boats airhorn*sclown in his place and on the mat. Why? Cuz your resident high flying, psycho diving, Carnival king is here to usher in your Age of the Cretins."
He takes a deep and flamboyant bow before raising his face once more.
"Until then..."
Freakke superimposed together with all seven colors in cheap plastic viking helmets and fake beards.
"Spam spam spam spam spam spam spam SPAMMITY SPAAAMMM...."
From off of the right side of the screen, a green Freakke pokes his head in a bit nervous a moment. He smiles nervously and waves to the viewers. After a moment of this short greeting, the Carnival King smiles a bit more warmly and steps fully into view, blocking the somber scene behind himself. His hands fold behind his back as he relaxes a moment.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, cretins one and all! Well, its time folks, we're here. Extreme Endurance. We pulled through in the three previous matches. Hell we're up two pinfalls even. That said, the last few weeks I've been trying to do some rather artsy bullshit that every so often, a clown going through a midlife crisis probably has to go through once or twice. Can't deny, occassionally I write and do some pretentious nonsense. So, as heavy as its ben these last few weeks, I figured it'd be nice to step back and have a bit of fun. Or. As the great troupe Monty Python would say, And Now For Something Completely Different."
The scene changes abruptly entirely.
There is now a green Freakke in what appears to be a mid 60's style three piece suit and a matching bowler. He has a horrifically fake mustache and seems to be staring off into the distance. He stands there a moment. His standing there and posturing is almost comically overdone, lasting a beat too long. It doesn't change however as a second, superimposed Freakke in orange steps onto the screen. This one is wearing rubber boots, rolled up trousers and a button up shirt, with a wool vest over top, suspenders, a toothbrush mustache and a tied napkin on his head. His shoulders and posture are stiff and his movements awkward. This Freakke stares off to the side, completely missing where the other is standing by a few feet.
Again, they stand a moment too long. The awkward pause is then interrupted by a loud strained word from the orange Freakke.
"HELLLO!"
The green Freakke seems to snap out of his practiced pose and then looks round to find where his super imposed other. He's off by about a foot.
"HELLLO!!"
"H-hello. Can I help you?"
"HELLLO!"
A pause.
"Hi..."
Another pause.
"ARR YUU A WRESSALLAR?"
"What?"
"ARE YOU AAA REESSTLAR?"
"Yes! Why do you ask?"
"MY BRAINE HURRTS!"
"What?"
"MY BRRAAINN HHURTTS!"
"OK...why do you need a wrestler then?"
Yet another pause.
"HELLO!"
The green Freakke looked to where the other would be standing. After a moment he seems to have an understanding.
"Oh! Your a Gumby. Oh man thats an old sketch."
"HEELLLOO!"
The green Freakke looks annoyed.
"MY BRAIN HHURTS!"
"Yeah mine too. Alright, lets do this."
The green suited Freakke takes his coat off and then rolls up his sleeves. As he does, he takes the folder kerchief from his breast pocket and ties the corners into knots. He places the cloth on his head and for a second seems fine, then he speaks.
"HHHEELLO!"
"ARE YUUWW A WRESTALR?"
"NO!....YES! YES I AM A WRESSALAR!"
"MMY BRAIN HURRTSS!"
"OKAY! KNOW WHAT TO DO!"
There's an obvious cut as the green Freakke picks up a shoddy dummy that has replaced the orange and then drops it on its head.
"ALL FIXED!"
"THHANK YOUU!"
A pause.
"...MY BRAIN HHURTS TOO!"
---
The scene cuts back to the interrupted white Freakke in the chair. His face unfreezing after a moment.
"Here we are my dear cretins, our endurance has paid off. The determination and the effort we've taken so far is coming to a head, but we haven't hit that line yet. Not yet. Not even after Extreme Endurance. Winning this match is the beginning. The line I like to talk about, that place where we find the edge of ourselves and throw each other over, it's new every time we step in the ring but I've found that this time its different. Two peaks. Yeah, two goals, two lines. Extreme Endurance. Then Invictus. I have to push forward through both lines now."
"The ultimate goal is the Invictus title but lets not get too ahead of ourselves now. We'll never make it to the top if we can't even get over the first hill. Keep your chins up though because we're going up and above and beyond this time. On the way to Invictus, we have to take on fire itself. Uncontrolled and wild but fast burning and soon subsiding fire. Once more we face the Pheonix. This ti..."
The creen freezes again.
---
Green Freakke once more.
"No seriously. There's been a whole lot of that lately. Not enough of this."
The scene is now a gym. There are five Freakke's now. The green stands apart while a blue, red, orange, and yellow stand aside. The four are wearing wearing cheap paper masks of the four other contenders. Blue wears Mason, Red Pheonix, Orange has Wallace, and Yellow Steele. The solitary green has a fake mustache on. They are all in what seems to be mid 60's gym clothes.
"RIGHT! I am now going to show you, how to beat multiple opponents, who rush you with fruit all at once."
"You mean like this?"
The Steele masked Yellow Freakke tries to overenthusiastically stab the Red Freakke in the Pheonix mask with a banana. Having none of this, the Pheonix masked Red Freakke dispatches the yellow with a painted cap gun. They all gasp a moment as the yellow superimposed Freakke overdramatically dies.
"Alright now! None of that! Now, I need you to come at me with your fruits..."
The orange Freakke lunges forward and the green Freakke drops a two ton weight on him.
"Now you see, the uses if a two ton weight to defeat an enemy armed with...I believe it was grapefruit. Grapefruit? Grapefruit."
"You killed him though."
"Shut up."
The green Freakke throws a bag of popcorn at the red and then the blue Freakke spontaneously combusts in a loud flash of smoke and light and an obvious scene cut.
"Well...that was unexpected...RELEASE THE LIONS!"
Nothing happens.
"Huh...not in budget I suppose..."
---
Back to the blank background. The monochrome Freakke unfreezes again.
"This time it's for everything we've fought for this last few weeks. There is no just surviving this match. It's win or lose and we both know what that means. It means no stops. No breaks. No letting up. All or nothing for the victory. We both know the other is prepared for that. We both know we can push ourselves forward and give that all. That's not the question. The question is, now that its just the two of us again, who will come out on top. Who pulls the win from the other? Its anybody's game it would seem. Then again, maybe not. We've put ourselves through so much leading up to this. We've already laid it out there and here we are. This always was an endurance match. We just have to see who has it left in the tank. The Pheonix who will rise again and again, or the stubborn Fool who refuses to give in? The fire that's already burned brightly so far or the laughing lunatic who will break himself for the victory."
"A question it seems to me so easy."
---
There is no interruption this time as a short skit plays. There are two people dressed as the red and green Freakkes. They have Freakke's head superimposed over the green and Pheonix's over the red. The red Freakke dances in and out, slapping the green Freakke in the face with two tiny fish to the pace of music. This goes on a moment or two before the music stops and the green Freakke reaches behind himself and pulls out a very large fish shaped steel chair and knocks the red Freakke off the dock and into the water. The camera zooms in as he reaches up to 'grab' the superimposed Freakke face and yanks away at it, revealing he pulled off instead a balaclava and was the real Freakke all along.
"This Extreme Endurance! Don't miss Freakke vs Mike Pheonix where I put that *a boats airhorn*sclown in his place and on the mat. Why? Cuz your resident high flying, psycho diving, Carnival king is here to usher in your Age of the Cretins."
He takes a deep and flamboyant bow before raising his face once more.
"Until then..."
Freakke superimposed together with all seven colors in cheap plastic viking helmets and fake beards.
"Spam spam spam spam spam spam spam SPAMMITY SPAAAMMM...."
Well howdy there pardner.