Post by Press1269 on Feb 11, 2020 18:01:18 GMT
The scene opens to a shot of The BombTrax walking down the hallway when suddenly they are ambushed by backstage interviewer, Butterscotch Munroe. The two men come to a halt as she waves the camera over and once it is in place launches into her questions before either of them can bolt.
Butterscotch: BombTrax, you’ve already been seen brutally attacking Captain All-Star, who I have on good authority will not be returning to action anytime soon. Obviously you’ve been running roughshod ever since you arrived on the December 16th edition of Chaos at the behest of Lady Munin, but now you’ll be going up against the undefeated Queen Bees tonight in the Semi-Main, and I was wondering if you had heard what Brianna Rissi had to say about you on Twitter?
Press started to chuckle while Youth shook his head, holding his hands out in front of him as if to tell Munroe to ‘pump the brakes’.
Youth: Nah, see, we don’t really do social media. I know, I know! That’s probably going to be one more way for our opponents to comment on how old and tired we are, and how we have no place in the wrestling business anymore, but…well…we do the majority of our talking in the ring.
Butterscotch: Interesting. Especially considering your harsh words towards your opponents earlier in the week. But let me just show you the tweet and get your thoughts…
Munroe pulls her phone out of her back pocket and brings it up to access Twitter, scrolling until she finds what she wants, and then thrusts it towards the two men. The camera swings around to behind them for an over the shoulder shot so that it can display the tweet to the masses.
Press stares intently at the phone while Youth shakes his head sheepishly. Butterscotch arches her eyebrows and pushes on through.
Butterscotch: Obviously she’s talking about the beachside conversation you two had a few days ago…the one in which you didn’t realize our cameras were recording. It appears she’s putting you on blast for not having your facts straight.
Press grumbles something inaudible, and then looks to his partner who continues to quietly try and fade into the background. Without ever breaking his gaze from youth he answers through tight lips.
Press: Well, it looks like we must retract that statement. Apparently…SOMEONE…got the information wrong.
Youth sighs heavily, and when the camera swings around to look at him he gives a reluctant expression.
Youth: I didn’t check all the Super Shows…I just checked the Chaos/Metal archives. My bad.
Press rolls his eyes but finally turns back to the camera.
Press: Well, you got us. We fucked up. We didn’t remember a date in October of last year when we didn’t even know this place existed. Short and simple, we weren’t paying attention and this one slipped by us. I mean, it’s not like we missed what happened on a show that we were actually apart of only two weeks ago…
Press stares bullet holes in the camera, and a light bulb goes off in Butterscotch’s head as to exactly what he is alluding to.
Butterscotch: Oh no…
Press: Oh yes! This stupid bitch and her partner want to run their mouth on social media about factual errors when their entire build up to this match has been a fucking factual error. Brianna Rissi comes out on Santa Monica television and gives back handed comments about her tag partner teaming with Oliver Black when in reality it was the IPW Heavyweight Champion, Mike Mason. Not once but fucking twice. And we’re the ones misinformed?
Press pauses to let out a short laugh before continuing.
Press: God damn, you were there! You received an award from your pal Ollie! You were supposed to be teaming with him that night, but then pulled out for, I don’t know…reasons.
I mean, from what we heard in the back, you were the one who arranged for Jason Dave to be the one that replaced you, so somewhere in that pea-sized brain of yours you forgot from one second to the next what the FUCK WAS ACTUALLY GOING ON!
Press voice booms down the hall as he gets dangerously close to the camera, forcing Butterscotch to backpedal for fear of getting hit.
Press: And you know, Astrid, this reflects on you. Your choices in life. You chose to marry a douche like Joshua Samson. You chose to make it work when said douche threw you two together as a tag team. Hell, you even chose to make this idiot your best friend. Then…THEN…you did exactly what we said you would do. You flapped those gums down every claim, everything we had to say. Your entire plan of attack was to try and say we didn’t earn the tag titles, that we haven’t earned our spot in your precious Iconic Pro Wrestling.
Press sneers at the camera.
Press: WE DON’T HAVE TO EARN SHIT! We’ve already made it at the top of the mountain. We’ve had the national exposure, the world championships, the big matches against credible sources. THIS IS AN INDY MUDSHOW PROMOTION IN SANTA MONICA, AND THE ONLY REASON WE’RE HERE IS CAUSE SOMEONE CASHED IN A PERSONAL FAVOR!
The big man is seething now, neck muscles bulging.
Press: The minute we stepped into the place, by your own admission, there was impact. You two are so fucking insipid that you cry about our backstage tactics when confessing that you’ve done them yourselves, but now…NOW…you want to see what it’s like when someone comes straight at you? Well tonight you’re going to find out exactly how that feels!
Press turns and storms off camera leaving Butterscotch Munroe dumbstruck and Youth standing there wide eyed. The younger man shrugs, a boyish grin coming onto his face when he looks directly into the camera.
Youth: Damn…hashtag, get your facts straight.
With that he bounds out of frame after his partner, and all Butterscotch Munroe can do is watch them go.
Butterscotch: BombTrax, you’ve already been seen brutally attacking Captain All-Star, who I have on good authority will not be returning to action anytime soon. Obviously you’ve been running roughshod ever since you arrived on the December 16th edition of Chaos at the behest of Lady Munin, but now you’ll be going up against the undefeated Queen Bees tonight in the Semi-Main, and I was wondering if you had heard what Brianna Rissi had to say about you on Twitter?
Press started to chuckle while Youth shook his head, holding his hands out in front of him as if to tell Munroe to ‘pump the brakes’.
Youth: Nah, see, we don’t really do social media. I know, I know! That’s probably going to be one more way for our opponents to comment on how old and tired we are, and how we have no place in the wrestling business anymore, but…well…we do the majority of our talking in the ring.
Butterscotch: Interesting. Especially considering your harsh words towards your opponents earlier in the week. But let me just show you the tweet and get your thoughts…
Munroe pulls her phone out of her back pocket and brings it up to access Twitter, scrolling until she finds what she wants, and then thrusts it towards the two men. The camera swings around to behind them for an over the shoulder shot so that it can display the tweet to the masses.
Press stares intently at the phone while Youth shakes his head sheepishly. Butterscotch arches her eyebrows and pushes on through.
Butterscotch: Obviously she’s talking about the beachside conversation you two had a few days ago…the one in which you didn’t realize our cameras were recording. It appears she’s putting you on blast for not having your facts straight.
Press grumbles something inaudible, and then looks to his partner who continues to quietly try and fade into the background. Without ever breaking his gaze from youth he answers through tight lips.
Press: Well, it looks like we must retract that statement. Apparently…SOMEONE…got the information wrong.
Youth sighs heavily, and when the camera swings around to look at him he gives a reluctant expression.
Youth: I didn’t check all the Super Shows…I just checked the Chaos/Metal archives. My bad.
Press rolls his eyes but finally turns back to the camera.
Press: Well, you got us. We fucked up. We didn’t remember a date in October of last year when we didn’t even know this place existed. Short and simple, we weren’t paying attention and this one slipped by us. I mean, it’s not like we missed what happened on a show that we were actually apart of only two weeks ago…
Press stares bullet holes in the camera, and a light bulb goes off in Butterscotch’s head as to exactly what he is alluding to.
Butterscotch: Oh no…
Press: Oh yes! This stupid bitch and her partner want to run their mouth on social media about factual errors when their entire build up to this match has been a fucking factual error. Brianna Rissi comes out on Santa Monica television and gives back handed comments about her tag partner teaming with Oliver Black when in reality it was the IPW Heavyweight Champion, Mike Mason. Not once but fucking twice. And we’re the ones misinformed?
Press pauses to let out a short laugh before continuing.
Press: God damn, you were there! You received an award from your pal Ollie! You were supposed to be teaming with him that night, but then pulled out for, I don’t know…reasons.
I mean, from what we heard in the back, you were the one who arranged for Jason Dave to be the one that replaced you, so somewhere in that pea-sized brain of yours you forgot from one second to the next what the FUCK WAS ACTUALLY GOING ON!
Press voice booms down the hall as he gets dangerously close to the camera, forcing Butterscotch to backpedal for fear of getting hit.
Press: And you know, Astrid, this reflects on you. Your choices in life. You chose to marry a douche like Joshua Samson. You chose to make it work when said douche threw you two together as a tag team. Hell, you even chose to make this idiot your best friend. Then…THEN…you did exactly what we said you would do. You flapped those gums down every claim, everything we had to say. Your entire plan of attack was to try and say we didn’t earn the tag titles, that we haven’t earned our spot in your precious Iconic Pro Wrestling.
Press sneers at the camera.
Press: WE DON’T HAVE TO EARN SHIT! We’ve already made it at the top of the mountain. We’ve had the national exposure, the world championships, the big matches against credible sources. THIS IS AN INDY MUDSHOW PROMOTION IN SANTA MONICA, AND THE ONLY REASON WE’RE HERE IS CAUSE SOMEONE CASHED IN A PERSONAL FAVOR!
The big man is seething now, neck muscles bulging.
Press: The minute we stepped into the place, by your own admission, there was impact. You two are so fucking insipid that you cry about our backstage tactics when confessing that you’ve done them yourselves, but now…NOW…you want to see what it’s like when someone comes straight at you? Well tonight you’re going to find out exactly how that feels!
Press turns and storms off camera leaving Butterscotch Munroe dumbstruck and Youth standing there wide eyed. The younger man shrugs, a boyish grin coming onto his face when he looks directly into the camera.
Youth: Damn…hashtag, get your facts straight.
With that he bounds out of frame after his partner, and all Butterscotch Munroe can do is watch them go.