Rendezvous in Vanaheimr

* * *

An anticlimactic opening is what we're granted as the scene is displays the magnificent Ripplemagne sitting on a white leather sofa in... Ninja Turtle footie pajamas? His champagne colored hair is pushed back from his face as his piercing blue-green eyes seem locked on something passed the camera. Atop his head is a cone-shaped hat, bending through the center of it and hanging backwards and matching his pajamas.

In his left palm is what seems to be half of a sphere in the form of a cereal bowl. Inside is what we can only guess is Capt'N Crunch cereal in the shape of flat cubes. Gently clad in his right hand is a silver spoon which he drives into the milk-covered cereal and takes a bite...

In the background, we can hear last night's show playing...

Bishop Trumaine Johnson:
"Oh, man! He had to have broken Staggs' back right there! The Hen, back up to his feet -- he grabs Xavier by the head and throws him out of the ring as he reverts his attention back to Chris Staggs."

Rosalinda Lupita Morales:
"The Hen nails a couple of boots before getting Staggs back up to his feet, he hooks him in and nails a T-Bone suplex!"

Bishop Trumaine Johnson:
"You know what I just noticed?"

Rosalinda Lupita Morales:
"What's that?"

Bishop Trumaine Johnson:
"Hen and Chris Cage look awfully similar..."

Rosalinda Lupita Morales:
"Yea, I kinda noticed that too. Must be their haircuts..."

Bishop Trumaine Johnson:
"Yea, that has to be it..."

At this point, it's obvious that the enigmatic Ripplemagne is making a spoof on The Hen's promo by doing exactly what was suggested for Chris Staggs to do. The stoic Ripplemagne takes another bite as we are just treated to this one shot...

...Nothing else...

...Until, finally, the Italian New Yorker accent of the young man breaks the silence...

Ripplemagne:
"I don't see the resemblance..."

* * *

The scene finally shifts gears and we're treated to a recap of the ground breaking announcement made by The Royal Ordinanace of Wrestling's chief share holder, Kurt Stone about the main event for the first ever Supremacy...

In the ring is the aforementioned man with a microphone in hand and a plethora of people cheering around him...

Kurt Stone:
"So, yeah. The ROW, now... officially ... has a home. On April 20th, in Jacksonville Veterans Memorial Arena, the ROW will televise their first edition of 'Supremacy'!

And... to make it a memorable edition. Not only is it going to be memorable because it's the first edition of "Supremacy"... but it's also going to be the night we crown the first ever Royal Ordinance of Wrestling... World Heavyweight Champion!

That's right. We're going to crown the first ever ROW World Heavyweight Champion in a fatal four way match. Four men. All they have to do is make one of their opponents submit or pin them for the three count. Those three men that will be competing in that match will be...

Chris Cage....

Ripplemagne...

Jason Hartnell....

So, I've gone with all the men that have won their respective matches, here, tonight.... but since some of you like to get involved where you shouldn't get involved... and a certain superstar likes to put his hands on my employees -- I made a little change. I was thinking The Hen should be the fourth participant....

But you know what? The Hen needs to be taught a lesson for his acts against Jorgesito earlier. He'll be busy that night.... so, his replacement? The man a couple of you screwed out of a match tonight, Jimmy Luciano!"

* * *

And now, for your feature presentation...

* * *

Before we can even see anything, the voice of the victorious Ripplemagne captures our attention...

Ripplemagne:
"Where is my waffle?! Which one of you no good, dirty, wet blanket, take-it-in-the-butt-harder-than-Will-And-Grace hombres stole Betsy from my plate!?"

...What the hell?

The scene finally opens in a diner as we see Ripplemagne, now, clad in his typical attire of a trench coat, stylish jeans and a skin tight t-shirt... though, he lacks the gloves and the sleeves of his coat are rolled up. It would seem that the zany fellow is threatening a group of individuals in a local cafe with what seems to be... a butter knife... with a stake of butter still sticking to the flat edge of it...

Nevertheless, the people seem terrified of Ripplemagne, who is standing atop of mahogany baby chair with one of his feet perched on top of a window sill. Perhaps not so much the butter knife instilled fear, but the psychotic nature in which the Patriarch of Pretty was wielding it...

There seems to be a family of WASPs (White Anglo-Saxon Protestants) backed into a corner with fear on their faces, whimpering and hoping that the crazed lunatic ceases his probing.

Gritting his teeth, Ripplemagne kicks over a bowl of oatmeal, which splashes onto the floor by the feet of some pudgy Mexican guy, who is trying, desperately, to remove the pancake from his fork...

After a moment, Ripplemagne leaps from the high chair, cracking wind with the sudden motion of the tails to his coat as he lands on the hard wood floor beneath him... the butter that was stuck to his butter knife finally breaking off onto the floor.

In the background, we can see an impatient Miss Sarah facepalming herself and shaking her head...

Ripplemagne:
"The Ripplemagne will not ask again! Where is his waffle!? There were five and, now, there are four. And the Ripplemagne has only eated three!"

There is silence as people exchange glances and whisper things into one another's ear; likely pointing out that the fellow is insane...

Ripplemagne:
"Alright, the Ripplemagne will ask again, but this time, he expects an answer! Where is his waffle!?"

Suddenly, from the background, we hear the soft Australian accent of the voluptuous woman known as Miss Sarah. Her voice hushes the 5'8" beast known as Ripplemagne and relieves the denizens of the small cafe...

Miss Sarah:
"I think I found it, Rippie..."

Abruptly, the quirky fellow turns around, pointing the butter knife high in the air as though he were charging into war. Tightly shutting his eyes and lashing out, Ripplemagne shouts at Miss Sarah...

Ripplemagne:
"Now, lets get one thing straight! Only the wimmenz may refer to the magnificent, the magnanimous, the awe-inspiring, captivating, slap-your-mother-with-a-rubber-hose-and-tell-her-it's-lemonade Ripplemagne... as 'Rippie'!"

Miss Sarah:
"Ahem..."

Finally done going into berserker rage, Ripplemagne opens one eye with somewhat of a stupefied look on his face as he sees his manager, Miss Sarah standing before him. Dusting off his coat, he straightens up and responds...

Ripplemagne:
"Oh, you were saying something, bonny?"

Miss Sarah:
"Your waffle."

Ripplemagne:
"No, your waffle!"

Miss Sarah:
"The mirror behind you. Turn your neck and look at it..."

With a blank expression on his face, Ripplemagne monotonously turned to the mirror above the counter to see the waffle... stuck to his butt. With exceptional glee, he snatched the waffle from his backside and began to gnaw on it...

Ripplemagne:
"Betsy! Oh, how I've missed you!"

As Ripplemagne is distracted with 'Betsy', the people he was just harassing attempt to flee, but in one instant, Ripplemagne, seemingly, appears in front of them, waving the butter knife around like a pirate as they all panic and run back to the corner they were in. Stomping forward, Ripplemagne shouts at them...

Ripplemagne:
"Oh, the Genitalia of Professional Wrestling is not done here, folks! He has much more to s-- Glrah!"

As he stomps forward, his foot steps on the sliver of butter that fell from his knife and he slips backwards, tumbling high into the air before landing on his neck. Using this opportunity, the people flee the little breakfast nook and push open the glass door, heading to their cars...

The camera pans in to show Ripplemagne lying on the floor with a somewhat agitated look on his face, but the shot is quickly intruded upon by Miss Sarah who stands over him, giggling to herself...

Miss Sarah:
"Maybe you should try a different approach next time..."

Sticking out her slender hand to help the young lad to his feet, he kind of snarls and turns away, getting up by himself and crossing his arms, back facing her. But, suddenly, he spins around and in a vivacious display, pointing his fingers and hunch somewhat in a theatrical, bombastic manner, he shouts at her...

Ripplemagne:
"Well, at least my panties don't hate me!"

Miss Sarah:
"You wear panties?"

Ripplemagne:
"The Ripplemagne does not kiss and tell! Well... except for maybe that one time, but that was because he got mad props for it!"

Miss Sarah:
"But, yo--"

Ripplemagne:
"Listen, mon amie... what happens between the Ripplemagne, the Holiday Inn and your silk, red panties... stays in the Holiday Inn."

Miss Sarah:
"The red ones?! Oh, c'mon! You couldn't pick the indigo pair!?"

Ripplemagne:
"Nevar. The red pair brings out the Ripplemagne's... assets. Obby."

Miss Sarah:
"On the way to Noatun, can we stop by the gas station?"

Ripplemagne:
"What for? We have a full tank... ho-oh! And so does the Ripplemagne! Giggity, giggity..."

Miss Sarah:
"I'm going to need to pick up a container of gasoline to incinerate my red thong..."

Ripplemagne:
"Ou! Ou! The Ripplemagne knows a cost effective way to do so! Git nekkid, wear said thong and tell the Ripplemagne that he is not gorgeous."

Miss Sarah:
"What will that do?"

Dropping his jaw and knocking on her skull, prompting a slight 'ow' from Miss Sarah, Ripplemagne exclaimed in shock...

Ripplemagne:
"Duh~! Straylia, where have you been? Everyone knows that if you tell a lie, your pants catch on fire!"

Miss Sarah:
"...Interesting theory. Why naked?"

Ripplemagne:
"Because, then, the Ripplemagne gets to enjoy a flopping show as you run around the room, crying out that your cooch' is engulfed. Hehe... giggity giggity..."

Miss Sarah:
"...So, how, exactly, are we getting to Noatun? I don't know of very many airline flights to Njord the Wise's chamber in Vanaheimr. I mean, this whole project seems very impractical. Norse God of the Sea?"

Ripplemagne:
"The Ripplemagne has connections..."

Miss Sarah:
"Alright, lets say you do have some kind of concocted, hare-brained scheme planned here. Why Njord the Wise? No one even knows who he is. Why not a more prominent figure in Norse Mythology that people are familiar with? Thor? Odin? Even Baldr would work. Why Njord?"

Ripplemagne:
"Thor and Odin?! Everyone references Thor and Odin. In Global Extreme Wrestling, there's even a guy named Sah'ta Thor. And some dude tried to pass off as Odin in Full Intensity Wrestling... and totally did it wrong! Since when does Odin use a Mjolnir, ya reject?!

...B-Besides... since a fallout involving a sleazy harlot with O.C.D., guilt that is not traditional, the onomatopoeia of 'arg', sycophantic teenagers, some dork by the name of 'TLK', Favre and numerous departures... the All-Father and the magnificent Ripplemagne have not been on good terms.

And Forseti and Ollerus took the Gungnir-wielding son of a bitch's side, so they, likely, won't hear from the Ripplemagne either..."

Miss Sarah:
"Wha--"

Before she could say anything, Ripplemagne aligned his thumbs together to make a 'Z' with his hands and shouted at her...

Ripplemagne:
"Zoltan!"

Miss Sarah:
"As--"

Ripplemagne:
"Zoltan!"

Miss Sarah:
"...What about Thor?"

Ripplemagne:
"Thor is... uh... how do I put this in a way a mere mortal can understand? Um... angry. Perpetually. Without cause. It is unshakable wrath. How many people do you know of creative enough to call someone 'anal dice'?"

Miss Sarah:
"...Uh huh. What about Baldr?"

Ripplemagne:
"Baldr? Hahaha! Baldr? Hehehe! Oh, that's rich..."

Before anything else can be said, we're treated to the typical Batman break between scenes where disembodied head floats to the screen and backs up. But, instead, it's Ripplemagne making a very... strange expression...

* * *

The scene reopens to a street corner in Iceland, where our heroes look up; Ripplemagne with a smirk on his face and Miss Sarah sighing to herself.'

Ripplemagne:
"Ready? Blue scadoo! We can too!"

Miss Sarah:
"I must say, that this is rather impracti- Ah!"

As Miss Sarah tries to discourage the adventure, the two of them shrink and splash into the sign as though they just ran through a waterfall. Blues Clues? Seriously? Dear God, I need help...

Once again, we're treated to the Ripplemagnian Batman head roll thingy as we switch scenes...

Finally, we're... inside Notaun? They appear on a wharf, made of a wooden substance of some sort, but it seemed surreal. As though the tree used to get the wood was hacked from the Yggdrasil tree, itself. It buckled under their weight as the teal ocean splashed up against the edge of the wharf, causing Miss Sarah's hair to stand up -- not literally, of course.

There was shock and dismay in her eyes as she looked around to find herself in the hall of a God. The teal ocean was so clear that you could see fish in the deepest trenches and crannies at its bottom.

The sky was clear of clouds, shimmering in a royal blue flush, all encapsulating the magnificent reign of the orb known as the sun. Was that the sun? It was solid white with crimson beams surrounding it.

Either Ripplemagne had very good graphic editors doing magnificent CGI or they were really in Noatun...

The smug Ripplemagne turned back to Miss Sarah, grabbing her hand and pointing out to the seagulls in the distance and rearing out in a singing voice...

Ripplemagne:
"I can show you the world!
Shining, shimmering, splendid!
Tell me, Princess, now, when did...
You last let your heart decide?"

It's official. He's retarded...

The two of them make their way through the lime green grassy field as an enormous, glistening steel portcullis rises, allowing them passage inside...

Ripplemagne:
"I can open your eyes!
Take you wonder by wonder...
Over, sideways and under...
On a magic carpet ride.

A whole new world!
A new fantastic point of view!
No one to tell us no...
Or where to go...
Or say we're only dreaming."

Miss Sarah:
"A whole new world!
A dazzling place I never knew.
But when I'm way up here...
It's crystal clear...
That, now, I'm in a whole new world with you!"

Ripplemagne:
"Now, I'm in a whole new world with you~!"

Alright, they're both retarded. Inside, we can see an enormous, Olympic-sized swimming pool with jets on the side, heating it. It's shaped like the ocean of Earth -- er... Midgard... -- itself as all of the places that would normally be land elevate from the water back into walkways. As far as the eye can see are wimme-- women in bikinis. Of all race, ethnicity, ge-- religion, stereotype, creed, et cetera. There were, perhaps, hundreds.

...Noatun was enormous...

Miss Sarah:
"Unbelievable sights!
Indescribable feeling!
Soaring, tumbling, freewheeling..
Through an endless diamond sky!
A whole new world~!"

Ripplemagne:
"Don't you dare close your eyes!"

Miss Sarah:
"A hundred-thousand things to see!"

Ripplemagne:
"Hold your breath -- it gets better!"

Miss Sarah:
"I'm like a shooting star!
I've come so far!
I can't go back to where I used to be!"

Ripplemagne:
"A whole new world~!"

Miss Sarah:
"Every turn a surprise!"

Ripplemagne:
"With new horizons to pursue!"

Miss Sarah:
"Every moment, red-letter..."

Ripplemagne:
"A whole new world~!"

They go to wrap it up with the simultaneous duet, but they're cut off by a fairly masculine voice and an enormous frame casting a shadow over them...

???:
"If we're going to sing in Noatun, it better be Hakuna Matata."

The two turn to see an enormous, 8'5" black man, resembling Marcus Hill, wearing a toga similar to that of the one he is depicted wearing in "Njörd's desire of the Sea" by W.G. Collingwood. Standing tall and proud with a flirtacious smile and making his breast muscles "dance", it seems that Njord the Wise takes a keen interest in Miss Sarah...

Miss Sarah:
"Wait. Njord the Wise, Norse God of the Sea... is black?"

Ripplemagne:
"You racist or something? Just like that limey Chris Cage and his potty mouth! Do you see da racism, mah nigga?"

Njord the Wise:
"It is an outright debacle. You're going to come into the Hall of Noatun and spout this outright discrimination. It makes me weep..."

Ripplemagne:
"What do you have to say for yourself, cracker?!"

Miss Sarah:
"I just mean... Nordic people are very white. So..."

Njord the Wise:
"So, what? Because I'm black, I can't be Norse? Where is your white hood, duck?"

It seems that Ripplemagne and Njord are fairly upset by Miss Sarah as they cross their arms as she looks at both of them with a panicked look on her face. Finally, the two glance at each other and begin cracking up laughing. The two slap hands as Njord wraps his arm around Miss Sarah's shoulder and walks off with her...

Njord the Wise:
"It's all good, lamb chop. Say, are you familiar with 'the cookies'?"

Before a response can be given, Ripplemagne does a ballerina spin around Njord, grabbing Miss Sarah by the wrist and pulling her to his side...

Ripplemagne:
"Now, now, mon ami... if you're going to raid the Ripplemagne's magnificent harem, it would be best not to do it where the Ripplemagne can leave with half of your fair maidens."

Njord the Wise:
"Yeah? Well, I know your real name!"

An audible gasp is heard by Ripplemagne as he winces at Njord, but shoots back...

Ripplemagne:
"Well, the Ripplemagne knows your real name!"

Njord the Wise:
"...Truce?"

Ripplemagne:
"Truce, man."

The two shake hands as Miss Sarah is dumb-founded at the events taking place...

Njord the Wise:
"Cheap plug; I just finished Njord's Guide to Condoms, which can be viewed on the home page of ARG Teen Forums -- that's arg.com."

Ripplemagne:
"You still do those?"

Njord the Wise:
"Yeah, man. Sadly, I have yet to completely quell the stupidity of today's youth."

As Sarah stands back, Njord smiles to himself and pats Ripplemagne on the shoulder, pointing to a cluster of eleven bikini-clad women in the background, each with a letter of his ring name written on their bellies in some kind of red goop.

The two chuckle inaudibly as Ripplemagne walks off and Njord approaches Miss Sarah, grabbing her by the hand and staring directly into her eyes.

Njord the Wise:
"You have beautiful breasts."

Miss Sarah:
"...I think you mean 'eyes'."

Njord the Wise:
"To be honest, I, really, don't give a shit. Hmph... stupid girls and their fascinations with their eye color; 'Is my eye puke green or shit brown today!?' Most guys stare at your breasts while claiming you have beautiful eyes. I just stare in their eyes and tell women they have beautiful breasts.

Much more effective."

There's a pause, but the mood is killed by the sound of Ripplemagne screaming in the background. The camera pans over to show Ripplemagne clawing at the ground as the Valkyries are trying to strip him and drag him into a room...

Ripplemagne:
"Abort mission! Abort mission!"

Miss Sarah:
"Think we should help him?"

Njord the Wise:
"Naw. Snoo snoo'll be good for him before his match..."

* * *

Once again, we're treated to a disembodied head of Ripplemagne tumbling to the camera and a new scene opens up...

All we can hear is incessant women screaming "moar" as Ripplemagne tumbles out of the doorway he was pulled into, locking the door behind him. There he is with his t-shirt torn in several spots, his jeans unbuttoned and unzipped and wearing only one shoe. From the view, we can see that Ripplemagne is wearing Snoopy boxer shorts...

Panting, Ripplemagne hobbled over to Miss Sarah and Njord, who smiles as Ripplemagne looks up at him before using his index finger to tell Njord to come closer. When he does, Ripplemagne unleashes the pimp hand across his face...

Ripplemagne:
"That... is... obnoxious...! They stole the Ripplemagne's potato..."

Miss Sarah:
"...Why do you have a pota--"

Njord the Wise:
"Best not to question it. Hey, man... you're a professional wrestler."

Ripplemagne:
"Yes, well, my opponents don't, typically, try to inhale miscellaneous limbs in ways I didn't even think were possible. In fact, I didn't think any mammal could do some of the things they were doing in there.

Conversely! The Ripplemagne didn't even get to strip down to his ring gear -- a pleasant treat for the wimmenz, as always -- before he was lynched by some big, black mooley with some googly eyes."

A puzzled look was on Njord's face as Ripplemagne said this as he, himself, was black, but he just kind of laughed to himself as Ripplemagne continued to rant.

Ripplemagne:
"But, oh yes, the Ripplemagne spanked that chump harder than Janet Jackson spanked Justin Timberlake after the Superbowl. Even harder than Carlton got spanked by Michael Jackson while doing his dance-along commercials. And it was all done in style for the Ripplemagne didn't have to remove his stage gear.

But your cock starved, nympho Valkyries couldn't give him the same decency."

Njord the Wise:
"Yeah. They're new. How were they? I need to know if they're worthy of joining my harem."

Ripplemagne:
"The last batch was better..."

Miss Sarah:
"Weren't you just complaining about them? This isn't your first batch?!"

Ripplemagne:
"Er... well... you see... hey! Girls, Miss Sarah is bisexual!"

The look on Miss Sarah's face said it all; and it said a big 'fuck me'. As several bikini clad Amazonian women lunged at her, Miss Sarah tried to escape their clutches, but she was, inevitably, hauled off...

Njord the Wise:
"So, you've got a title match, huh?"

Ripplemagne:
"Apparently, the requirements to compete for The ROW's most prestigious prize is to win one match or assault a fan."

Njord the Wise:
"And don't you have an Ultimate X Elimination Chamber Match for the Action Wrestling League belt the same week?"

Ripplemagne:
"There's still one more qualification match for the Ripplemagne to bestow the atomic teabag upon his opponents, but it's an inevitable."

Njord the Wise:
"A'ight, well, I can hook you up with the goods. We have the ultimate in weaponry, normally reserved for Ragnarok, but I'll tell Freya that Loki is being a needle dick again."

The two turn to an enormous wall with the most advanced weaponry... ever... hung up on the walls. It seems that some of them are lightyears ahead of the technology of today. But others are still axes, maces, swords, shields and whatnot...

Inquisitive, Ripplemagne approaches the wall and picks up the smallest gun on it. Immediately, Njord snatches it from his hand and places it back on the wall...

Njord the Wise:
"Heh, heh. You don't want to use that one..."

Ripplemagne:
"Why?"

Njord the Wise:
"You ever hear of the Lost City of Atlantis?"

Ripplemagne:
"Uh huh..."

Njord the Wise:
"Have you ever wondered why it's lost...?"

Ripplemagne:
"h4x! Everyone knows that the Underground Mole People are responsible for the obliteration of the Lost City of Atlantis. It says so right here in my graphic novel!"

With that, Ripplemagne pulls a Mickey Mouse coloring book out and opens to a page where it seems a two year old was scribbling in...

Njord the Wise:
"Compelling evidence. But I'll prove you wrong..."

With that, Njord pulls the gun back from the rack and points it out to sea...

Njord the Wise:
"From Noatun, I can see every major body of water in the universe. See that spot far off in the distance labeled with the sticker of Bill Clinton's head? That's the Virgin Islands. See where I'm aiming?"

Ripplemagne:
"Isn't that Puerto Rico?"

Njord the Wise:
"It is, but it won't be in a few seconds..."

Ripplemagne:
"But! But! Puerto Rico is where the Mushroom Kingdom resides! I know this because the Birdos flock there! What if Bowser has Princess Peach again?!"

Njord the Wise:
"Then Mario will make a daring entrance, save her, rolling out of harm's way just in the knick of time. Duh! That's how it goes down in every action movie..."

Ripplemagne:
"Excellent point! However, the Birdos! We must think about the Birdos!"

Njord the Wise:
"Be-a-man! No one will miss them!"

Ripplemagne:
"Can we do it with thermal vision?"

A smile and a nod preludes Ripplemagne snatching two visors that they put over their eyes and turn on, going into thermal vision...

Shortly after, Njord unleashes an enormous beam from the little gun, which travels out and...

Ripplemagne:
"Hehe... look at them trying to swim away... oh! There goes Mario with Peach!"

Njord the Wise:
"Told ya."

Ripplemagne:
"C'mon, lets go join the festivities with Straylia and the Valkyries before there's nothing left of any of them."

Njord the Wise:
"You mean nothing left of just Sarah, right?"

Ripplemagne:
"Trust."

Njord the Wise:
"Onward!"

The camera fazes out as they march off to go have hot, sweaty, Valhallan sex!

* * *