Goldmember
* * *
Flashing from the mounted computer monitor were several tabs aligned in Internet Explorer as the cursor waved along them with text filling several post boxes. The brown rug was barely visible amidst the clothing and trash scattered around the room. There were a few cracks in the white paved walls and ceiling. The bed was unmade and there were four or five dishes and glasses with the remains of food coating it.
Wires lined the floors and bunched in tumble weeds of cord; four teenage boys with developing moustaches, dandruff covered flat tops and acne covered skin. They were clad in hoodies, jersies and baggy jeans or sweat pants. They grinned their wheezing, gappy gaps, clicking on keyboards and cackling with their disproportionately high pitched and low pitched voices.
The ashy blonde haired Polish one giggles especially loud and calls back to the other three at the laptop at his side...
Troll Uno:
"Oh my Gawd! Refresh the page, guys! I totally pwned these guys!"
Troll Dos:
"Heh heh heh! You set your username as Cock Lesnar? Classic, man!"
Troll Uno:
"Refresh the page, man!"
Troll Tres:
"El oh el! You totally pwned that guy by calling him a faggot! Hey, man! Lets talk about their moms!"
Troll Quatro:
"Way ahead of you, man! I posted in thirteen threads, talking about how I had hot, sweet, steamy sex with their mothers!"
As one screams "high five", they all slap hands and continue typing...
Troll Uno:
"We should say we hate black people too. They'll get so mad at us! Hah hah!"
Troll Tres:
"Oh, look what I'm saying about these fags."
Troll Dos:
"Haha! Calling them ugly. Priceless, man. They'll probably kill themselves because of us. Heh heh heh!"
Troll Quatro:
"What if they get our pictures though?"
Troll Dos:
"Then they're gay, man. We can just say they have small penises and call them names until they es tee eff yu. Heh heh heh!"
Troll Uno:
"Look at this fag. He probably spends hours blow drying his hair. Lets call him gay because no straight man spends more than two minutes in the shower and--- What the fuck?"
Troll Quatro:
"What?"
Troll Uno:
"Look at the wall of text this fag posted, trying to act like his fag looks are actually appealing to girls. Women want men like us! Yeah!"
Cheering is heard among them...
Troll Tres:
"Don't worry, bro. I got your back. I'm going to ignore that shitty 'logic' shit he just tried and make fun of his hair some more."
Troll Quatro:
"Haha. I just called him Nipplemagne! I bet no one has ever come up with that one!"
Troll Tres:
"Ha. I took it a step forward and called him Nipplemagnet. We're so awesome."
Troll Uno:
"Fuck him. Look at him trying to psychobabble me."
Troll Dos:
"Isn't that true though, dude?"
Troll Uno:
"He's just a fa--"
A knock is heard at the door as Troll Uno turns to it...
Troll Uno:
"The door is open, mommy."
With that, the door bursts open to the sound of heroic, 1960s action movie music and a burst of wind (despite it being in doors) against an upright fellow with his hands on his waist and his chin in the air.
As his long, wavy champagne hair and trench coat billows in the wind, he steps forward, revealing his skin tight baby blue t-shirt and faded jeans. Stepping forth in a masculine swagger, he speaks with a gruff tone...
Ripplemagne:
"Remember me, dirt bag?"
The music picks up even more in its patriotic tune as one of them charges at him and catches an action movie-esque punch to the face, sending him across the room. Another goes for a haymaker that Ripplemagne ducks and punches him right through the window.
Another one of the Trolls comes at him with a crowbar that wasn't seen before this moment and swings it horizontally, but Ripplemagne ducks that and lands a spinning kick to his mid-section, sending him to the ground. Another goes to double axe handle him, but he grabs him and in a struggle, throws him into a wall and lands a hard punch, laying him out.
The first one gets up and goes to attack Ripplemagne from behind, but he flings him over his shoulder and lands a theatrical punch to the tummy. The figure doubles over and in a wheeze, speaks to the vigilante...
Troll Uno:
"What... what are you?"
Ripplemagne:
"Ally to good! Nightmare to you! An American hero and vigilante. And don't let me catch you in America!"
As the troll falls to the ground, Ripplemagne stands up straight and turns to the camera with a hand on one hip, a finger pointing to the camera and a sparkling, pearly white smile...
Ripplemagne:
"Boys and girls, if we're to learn anything here today... it's that internet trolling is not something to be abused. Originality is key to these things and if you can't at least find a technique that hasn't been done to death, then it is your duty as an internet user, a citizen... an American... to get smarter or just stop. So, remember -- if you're going to troll, don't suck at it."
This message has been brought to you by G.I. Joe, who urges you to troll responsibly.
* * *
And now, for your feature presentation...
* * *
Fazing into the image of a porcelain bath tub filled with steaming hot water and a mountain range of white bubbles, we're treated to the delicate features of the lovely Miss Sarah; her milky skin wrapped by her wavy, auburn streams of hair, highlighted blonde and coated with moisture on the ends. Extending from the mounds of glistening orbs, her peach arms stick out and lie along the ridges of the tub, while her similarly colored knees stick out comfortably. Inhaling deeply with her eyes closed, she smiles with a very relaxed expression...
Miss Sarah:
"Ah..."
Slinking back into the fair sized tub, Miss Sarah's solemn smile cracks into a look of shock and dismay as she screams several eeks, ahs and eeps. As she slides back in a panic, a black tube extends from the bubbles between her legs and rises up along with long golden locks of silken hais, followed by the soft white skin of a young man wearing a snorkle and a pair of goggles. The shocked girl slides back, covering her breasts with her hands as the young man stands up on his knees and pulls the goggles from his face. As water and bubbles slide down his rippling physique, the audio is replaced with women screaming racy things (or there is a live audience; we can't tell) to the arrival of the magnificent Ripplemagne. On his knees between Miss Sarah's legs, she tries desperately to find words to say to the young man with his clenched fists placed on his defined hips.
Ripplemagne:
"Mission complete! The underwater caves have been thoroughly excavated, though the gold was stolen by a fat goblin of sorts."
Miss Sarah:
"What are you doing!? I'm trying to take a bath! And... and why is Mage in here?!"
The White Mage:
"Oh. My apologies, Mademoiselle Sarah. Monsieur Ripplemagne insisted that I film."
Ripplemagne:
"Greetings, Straylia! I, the magnificent Aquamagne, deep ocean explorer--"
Miss Sarah:
"I don't care! Get out!"
Shrugging, Ripplemagne goes to stand up from the bubbles as the water slides down his hip bones and exposes his bare pubic area to a chorus of more girly screams, but before the goods are revealed, Miss Sarah pulls him back down into the water with a blush and a look of amazement.
Miss Sarah:
"What do you think you're doing?!"
Ripplemagne:
"...Getting out. Damn! Make up your mind, woman!"
Miss Sarah:
"How did you even get in here?!"
Ripplemagne:
"Pirate ship."
Stupefied by this declaration, Miss Sarah grows silent as a knock is heard on the door, leading to The White Mage unlocking it and allowing Valeah, one of Ripplemagne's personal assistants, into the room. Popping in, Valeah raises an eyebrow at the unusual sight, still unfamiliar with the eccentricities of Ripplemagne and his Entourage.
The semi-dark skinned girl clad in a camisole and khaki pants steps forward. From her looks, we can clearly make out that she's a light skinned, young black girl with a voluptuous figure. Her model-esque features complimented by her high cheek bones and distinctive smile enthralls the room as she makes her first appearance on Your Feature Presentation.
Valeah:
"Hate to bother you, but Hayden Clarke is here for your interview."
Ripplemagne:
"Well, hello there, bella. How about you and I-- Aye!"
As Ripplemagne attempts to slide out of the bubbles again, Miss Sarah tugs him by the wrist back in, causing a bit of a splash...
Ripplemagne:
"What are you doing, Straylia!? Can you not see that the Ripplemagne is trying to get his proverbial mack on with this lovely, new prospect?!"
Miss Sarah:
"Ratings, dumb ass!"
Valeah:
"Um... we went to High School together and I've been on the road with you since after Chaos."
Ripplemagne:
"Nonsense. Tonight, we're making smores. Giggity."
Miss Sarah:
"Please refrain from making racial remarks, Ripplemagne! I'm not in the mood to deal with the F.C.C. and the A.C.L.U."
Ripplemagne:
"Neither is anyone, but the crumb snatchers need something to do with all of that free time, don't they?"
Before anything else could be added, the door opened even more as a young lad in a leather jacket with spiked hair stepped in with a semi-confused look on his face. With a sunken look on his face, he looks over at Ripplemagne and Miss Sarah in the bath tub with a bit of dismay on his face.
Andy V.:
"...Uh... dude... damn."
Ripplemagne:
"What is it, Aaron?! Can you not see that the Ripplemagne is about to get laid by an Australian, a Frenchie, and some black broad of unknown origin?!"
Andy V.:
"Damn. Well, your mocha latte is ready."
Stepping forward and leaning over the ridge of the bath tub, he hands a plastic cup with cardboard wrapped around it to the new Tag Team Champion. Miss Sarah seems to blush with everyone around her in her birthday suit...
Ripplemagne:
"Mm... mulata, how about doubling up on that mocha latte? Ou... oh! Oh! And boom goes the dynamite."
Valeah is having trouble containing her laughter at this point as Miss Sarah's face is shining red. Once again, another figure steps in...
Inside, steps a young hispanic girl with a vixen appeal, clad in a pair of jeans and one of Ripplemagne's black "Believe" t-shirts. As beautiful as the other girls, she steps in and garners immense attention...
Karla Love:
"Sorry to... barge in...? But... uh..."
Miss Sarah:
"What is this!? Some kind of peep show?!"
Ripplemagne:
"I hope so. I love those Peeps commercials. Those dancing little chicks make the Ripp--"
As he says this, some aggressive splashing is heard from the bath tub as a baby chick bursts from the water and scurries off. There's an awkward silence as everyone stares at Ripplemagne who raises an eyebrow and scratches the back of his neck...
Ripplemagne:
"...Oh, like I have some divine insight on why in God's name that happened."
Karla Love:
"Hayden Clarke is waiting to begin the interview and... your hair... ugh..."
Ripplemagne:
"Hables ingles?! Donde what the fuck are you saying?"
Karla Love:
"I'm speaking English, Ripplemagne. Not all Mexicans are unable to speak English..."
Ripplemagne:
"I don't understand this strange language this girl speaks. Let me try to communicate with it. Me would gusta to sticko my la pinga in your el pooper. Comprendé?"
Karla Love:
"I can speak English..."
Ripplemagne:
"Mind boggling."
Before anything else could be added, the already crowded bathroom is further packed when a brunette girl in a tight black GEW t-shirt and torn up jeans steps in. It seems that there are modeling auditions with all of the beautiful girls in the bathroom at the moment and when she spoke, there was no more echo in the room due to all of the bodies absorbing the sound waves...
Hayden Clarke:
"Should I come back another time?"
Miss Sarah:
"Yes! And take all of them with you!"
Ripplemagne:
"Not at all, bella. You came at just the right time."
Hayden Clarke:
"Mm... this might just be my best interview to date."
Ripplemagne:
"This might just be the best erection I've had to date. Straylia, don't make any sudden movements..."
Miss Sarah:
"There's no way we're not getting sued..."
Ripplemagne:
"Worst comes to worse, we can fast forward to later on to us making a nekkid conga line and post it on redtube."
Miss Sarah:
"But I'm not ready to be a porn star!"
Ripplemagne:
"Don't worry. I'll be the star; you'll be complimentary."
Miss Sarah:
"Hey!"
Ripplemagne:
"Now, I know you're concerned that I'm prettier than you, but take solace in the fact that I'm so gorgeous that people will think you're even prettier than you are because you're with me. I'm like a 100% pure alcohol beverage; making wimmenz prettier since 1917."
Miss Sarah:
"I'm not making a porno!"
Ripplemagne:
"Hate to break it to ya, sweet cheeks, but you've already made one."
Miss Sarah:
"What?!"
Ripplemagne:
"So, you said you wanted to do an interview, bonny?"
Hayden Clarke:
"Yeah. Your assistant called last week to book an interview for an edition of Your Feature Presentation."
Ripplemagne:
"Oll korrect. Lets start with your name, sugar. What is it? Is it Bonnie?"
Hayden Clarke:
"Actual--"
Ripplemagne:
"Is it Sarah?"
Hayden Clarke:
"You don't unde--"
Ripplemagne:
"Jill?"
Hayden Clarke:
"The intervi--"
Ripplemagne:
"Jossie and your fantastic pussy... cats?"
Hayden Clarke:
"It's Hay--"
Ripplemagne:
"I bet it's Mickie. Because you're so fine... you're so fine you blow my mind!"
Hayden Clarke:
"It's Hayden. But you're not interviewing me. I'm interviewing you."
Ripplemagne:
"So, then, I can't ask you what color underwear you're wearing?"
Hayden Clarke:
"Maybe I'll let you find out for yourself later. But..."
Miss Sarah:
"Fat chance, hussy."
Hayden Clarke:
"...Lets begin the same way you were going to even though everyone already knows your name."
The camera zooms in on Ripplemagne for a moment as he's playing with two toy sail boats in the water, making sound effects to emulate that of mortars and harpoons. Glaring, Miss Sarah leans over and pinches him as the other girls giggle.
Ripplemagne:
"Ow! What?"
Miss Sarah:
"I know you get a little too much enjoyment out of doing so, but state your name."
Ripplemagne:
"Oh. See, the magnificent one stems from the deepest trenches of the magical land of mobsters and drug dealers. Commerce and big business. Prostitutes and extortion. Diversity and institutionalized racism. I hail from the Empire State of New Yawk."
There's a silence that overtakes the room as Miss Sarah buries her hand into her face...
Valeah:
"State your name. Not name your state."
Ripplemagne:
"The magnificent Ripplemagne may be a touch dyslexic."
Miss Sarah:
"Moving on."
Hayden Clarke:
"On Thursday, you reluctantly teamed with the man who put you on leave in the first place. How do you think you're going to coexist with your past so sketchy?"
Ripplemagne:
"Right now, the Pillsbury Doughboy is lugging around the Ripplemagne's goldmember, blithering on about being fat and how he won the belts without my aid; how it was a three on one match, but what he fails to recognize is that it was a handicap match from the beginning. It was, essentially, Ripplemagne and Napalm against Sah'ta Thor.
You can toss the dice any way you want, but Warner Sister was not medically cleared to compete and due to Chelsea Reed's vendetta against her, the show went on.
But a few months ago, the first night I was booked, I remember watching the aftermath of the main event at Extreme Extravaganza. And when Baby Dogg felt that her victory was hollow, the first thing she did was offer Brookeback Mountain a rematch.
Likewise, I'm giving Sister Warner her beck and call on a rematch for the Ripplemagne's goldmember. Speaking of which, being that this is the Ripplemagne's first title belt..."
It seems like Ripplemagne changes his accent at this point to sound distinctly Northern Italian...
Ripplemagne:
"I hope-a you're satisfied, Ms.-a Reed, you son-a-ma-gun! You insulted my-a girlfriend and you insulted-a me! But I'm-a gonna prove you wrong about-a Ripparella. 'Cause I'm-a going to prove to be the greatest World-a Tag Team Goldmember of all the times.
Pull up the Honk-A-Meter!"
Imagery appears at the lower end of the screen of what looks like the Honky Tonk man on the left end of the screen and Ripplemagne on the right end. In between them is two orange boxes and a white circle.
Ripplemagne:
"You see, the Honky Tonky Man was World-a Tag Team Goldmember for a record hundred and fourty-seven-a days."
In the left orange box next to the Honky Tonk Man, the number 147 appears...
Ripplemagne:
"Ripplemagne has already been World-a Tag Team Goldmember for-a nine days!"
In the right orange box next to Ripplemagne, the number 9 appears.
Ripplemagne:
"According... to... the Honk-A-Meter, that's-a merely hundred and thirty-eight days. That's-a nothing for me. And then, I will be the greatest World-a Tag Team Goldmember-o of all the times."
Miss Sarah:
"Moron, Troy Gafgen and Mark Chapman have the record for longest reign; not The Honky Tonk Man. In fact, I'm pretty certain The Honky Tonk Man has never appeared on G.E.W. T.V."
Ripplemagne:
"Why must you ruin everything? Is it because your genitals are in the inside and the phrase "free ballin'" is lost upon you?"
Hayden Clarke:
"Out of curiosity, why do you keep calling the championship 'goldmember'?"
Ripplemagne:
"Have you ever watched Austin Powers?"
Hayden Clarke:
"Yes, but in the movie, the goldmember is his--"
Ripplemagne:
"See, Miss Sarah promised for every title victory and defense, she will--"
Miss Sarah:
"Next question, please!"
It's clear that Miss Sarah is not fond of this interview being conducted while they're sitting in the bath tub, barren of clothing and less fond of Ripplemagne almost spilling the beans on something...
At this point, it seems Valeah has stepped out along with Andy V....
Hayden Clarke:
"With Chelsea Reed's enemies all falling under insurmountable obstacles and you having stood against her army in the past, how are you feeling about your future in Global Extreme Wrestling?"
Ripplemagne:
"Excited."
Hayden Clarke:
"...Does that mean that you're not concerned?"
Ripplemagne:
"Nah. The way I see it is that she either wants to touch me so badly that she'll leave me alone or, the more unlikely situation, she'll put a series of obstacles in front of me that will keep me entertained."
Hayden Clarke:
"So, you must be feeling pretty confident in your future here. Any plans?"
Ripplemagne:
"With the Sterling Goldmember being vacant, the Ripplemagne has a notch to place on his belt there. Of cour--"
Before he can finish, Karla Love steps back in the room with a down look on her face...
Valeah:
"Sorry to interrupt, but..."
Ripplemagne:
"What is it, Mulata?! Can you not see that the Ripplemagne is courting Heidi--"
Hayden Clarke:
"Hayden."
Ripplemagne:
"--Into secksie tiem?!"
Valeah:
"Your mother is on the phone. Your brother and his wife were in an accident..."
A blank look appears on Ripplemagne's face as his vivacious mannerisms drop as he rears back without a reaction...
Miss Sarah:
"Um... we're going to have to reschedule this interview. Until then, this is the cast of Your Feature Presentation and we're wishing you a happy Labor Day."
The camera pans out as the others clear out of the bathroom and Ripplemagne remains with a stoic expression next to Miss Sarah...
* * *
Flashing from the mounted computer monitor were several tabs aligned in Internet Explorer as the cursor waved along them with text filling several post boxes. The brown rug was barely visible amidst the clothing and trash scattered around the room. There were a few cracks in the white paved walls and ceiling. The bed was unmade and there were four or five dishes and glasses with the remains of food coating it.
Wires lined the floors and bunched in tumble weeds of cord; four teenage boys with developing moustaches, dandruff covered flat tops and acne covered skin. They were clad in hoodies, jersies and baggy jeans or sweat pants. They grinned their wheezing, gappy gaps, clicking on keyboards and cackling with their disproportionately high pitched and low pitched voices.
The ashy blonde haired Polish one giggles especially loud and calls back to the other three at the laptop at his side...
Troll Uno:
"Oh my Gawd! Refresh the page, guys! I totally pwned these guys!"
Troll Dos:
"Heh heh heh! You set your username as Cock Lesnar? Classic, man!"
Troll Uno:
"Refresh the page, man!"
Troll Tres:
"El oh el! You totally pwned that guy by calling him a faggot! Hey, man! Lets talk about their moms!"
Troll Quatro:
"Way ahead of you, man! I posted in thirteen threads, talking about how I had hot, sweet, steamy sex with their mothers!"
As one screams "high five", they all slap hands and continue typing...
Troll Uno:
"We should say we hate black people too. They'll get so mad at us! Hah hah!"
Troll Tres:
"Oh, look what I'm saying about these fags."
Troll Dos:
"Haha! Calling them ugly. Priceless, man. They'll probably kill themselves because of us. Heh heh heh!"
Troll Quatro:
"What if they get our pictures though?"
Troll Dos:
"Then they're gay, man. We can just say they have small penises and call them names until they es tee eff yu. Heh heh heh!"
Troll Uno:
"Look at this fag. He probably spends hours blow drying his hair. Lets call him gay because no straight man spends more than two minutes in the shower and--- What the fuck?"
Troll Quatro:
"What?"
Troll Uno:
"Look at the wall of text this fag posted, trying to act like his fag looks are actually appealing to girls. Women want men like us! Yeah!"
Cheering is heard among them...
Troll Tres:
"Don't worry, bro. I got your back. I'm going to ignore that shitty 'logic' shit he just tried and make fun of his hair some more."
Troll Quatro:
"Haha. I just called him Nipplemagne! I bet no one has ever come up with that one!"
Troll Tres:
"Ha. I took it a step forward and called him Nipplemagnet. We're so awesome."
Troll Uno:
"Fuck him. Look at him trying to psychobabble me."
Troll Dos:
"Isn't that true though, dude?"
Troll Uno:
"He's just a fa--"
A knock is heard at the door as Troll Uno turns to it...
Troll Uno:
"The door is open, mommy."
With that, the door bursts open to the sound of heroic, 1960s action movie music and a burst of wind (despite it being in doors) against an upright fellow with his hands on his waist and his chin in the air.
As his long, wavy champagne hair and trench coat billows in the wind, he steps forward, revealing his skin tight baby blue t-shirt and faded jeans. Stepping forth in a masculine swagger, he speaks with a gruff tone...
Ripplemagne:
"Remember me, dirt bag?"
The music picks up even more in its patriotic tune as one of them charges at him and catches an action movie-esque punch to the face, sending him across the room. Another goes for a haymaker that Ripplemagne ducks and punches him right through the window.
Another one of the Trolls comes at him with a crowbar that wasn't seen before this moment and swings it horizontally, but Ripplemagne ducks that and lands a spinning kick to his mid-section, sending him to the ground. Another goes to double axe handle him, but he grabs him and in a struggle, throws him into a wall and lands a hard punch, laying him out.
The first one gets up and goes to attack Ripplemagne from behind, but he flings him over his shoulder and lands a theatrical punch to the tummy. The figure doubles over and in a wheeze, speaks to the vigilante...
Troll Uno:
"What... what are you?"
Ripplemagne:
"Ally to good! Nightmare to you! An American hero and vigilante. And don't let me catch you in America!"
As the troll falls to the ground, Ripplemagne stands up straight and turns to the camera with a hand on one hip, a finger pointing to the camera and a sparkling, pearly white smile...
Ripplemagne:
"Boys and girls, if we're to learn anything here today... it's that internet trolling is not something to be abused. Originality is key to these things and if you can't at least find a technique that hasn't been done to death, then it is your duty as an internet user, a citizen... an American... to get smarter or just stop. So, remember -- if you're going to troll, don't suck at it."
This message has been brought to you by G.I. Joe, who urges you to troll responsibly.
* * *
And now, for your feature presentation...
* * *
Fazing into the image of a porcelain bath tub filled with steaming hot water and a mountain range of white bubbles, we're treated to the delicate features of the lovely Miss Sarah; her milky skin wrapped by her wavy, auburn streams of hair, highlighted blonde and coated with moisture on the ends. Extending from the mounds of glistening orbs, her peach arms stick out and lie along the ridges of the tub, while her similarly colored knees stick out comfortably. Inhaling deeply with her eyes closed, she smiles with a very relaxed expression...
Miss Sarah:
"Ah..."
Slinking back into the fair sized tub, Miss Sarah's solemn smile cracks into a look of shock and dismay as she screams several eeks, ahs and eeps. As she slides back in a panic, a black tube extends from the bubbles between her legs and rises up along with long golden locks of silken hais, followed by the soft white skin of a young man wearing a snorkle and a pair of goggles. The shocked girl slides back, covering her breasts with her hands as the young man stands up on his knees and pulls the goggles from his face. As water and bubbles slide down his rippling physique, the audio is replaced with women screaming racy things (or there is a live audience; we can't tell) to the arrival of the magnificent Ripplemagne. On his knees between Miss Sarah's legs, she tries desperately to find words to say to the young man with his clenched fists placed on his defined hips.
Ripplemagne:
"Mission complete! The underwater caves have been thoroughly excavated, though the gold was stolen by a fat goblin of sorts."
Miss Sarah:
"What are you doing!? I'm trying to take a bath! And... and why is Mage in here?!"
The White Mage:
"Oh. My apologies, Mademoiselle Sarah. Monsieur Ripplemagne insisted that I film."
Ripplemagne:
"Greetings, Straylia! I, the magnificent Aquamagne, deep ocean explorer--"
Miss Sarah:
"I don't care! Get out!"
Shrugging, Ripplemagne goes to stand up from the bubbles as the water slides down his hip bones and exposes his bare pubic area to a chorus of more girly screams, but before the goods are revealed, Miss Sarah pulls him back down into the water with a blush and a look of amazement.
Miss Sarah:
"What do you think you're doing?!"
Ripplemagne:
"...Getting out. Damn! Make up your mind, woman!"
Miss Sarah:
"How did you even get in here?!"
Ripplemagne:
"Pirate ship."
Stupefied by this declaration, Miss Sarah grows silent as a knock is heard on the door, leading to The White Mage unlocking it and allowing Valeah, one of Ripplemagne's personal assistants, into the room. Popping in, Valeah raises an eyebrow at the unusual sight, still unfamiliar with the eccentricities of Ripplemagne and his Entourage.
The semi-dark skinned girl clad in a camisole and khaki pants steps forward. From her looks, we can clearly make out that she's a light skinned, young black girl with a voluptuous figure. Her model-esque features complimented by her high cheek bones and distinctive smile enthralls the room as she makes her first appearance on Your Feature Presentation.
Valeah:
"Hate to bother you, but Hayden Clarke is here for your interview."
Ripplemagne:
"Well, hello there, bella. How about you and I-- Aye!"
As Ripplemagne attempts to slide out of the bubbles again, Miss Sarah tugs him by the wrist back in, causing a bit of a splash...
Ripplemagne:
"What are you doing, Straylia!? Can you not see that the Ripplemagne is trying to get his proverbial mack on with this lovely, new prospect?!"
Miss Sarah:
"Ratings, dumb ass!"
Valeah:
"Um... we went to High School together and I've been on the road with you since after Chaos."
Ripplemagne:
"Nonsense. Tonight, we're making smores. Giggity."
Miss Sarah:
"Please refrain from making racial remarks, Ripplemagne! I'm not in the mood to deal with the F.C.C. and the A.C.L.U."
Ripplemagne:
"Neither is anyone, but the crumb snatchers need something to do with all of that free time, don't they?"
Before anything else could be added, the door opened even more as a young lad in a leather jacket with spiked hair stepped in with a semi-confused look on his face. With a sunken look on his face, he looks over at Ripplemagne and Miss Sarah in the bath tub with a bit of dismay on his face.
Andy V.:
"...Uh... dude... damn."
Ripplemagne:
"What is it, Aaron?! Can you not see that the Ripplemagne is about to get laid by an Australian, a Frenchie, and some black broad of unknown origin?!"
Andy V.:
"Damn. Well, your mocha latte is ready."
Stepping forward and leaning over the ridge of the bath tub, he hands a plastic cup with cardboard wrapped around it to the new Tag Team Champion. Miss Sarah seems to blush with everyone around her in her birthday suit...
Ripplemagne:
"Mm... mulata, how about doubling up on that mocha latte? Ou... oh! Oh! And boom goes the dynamite."
Valeah is having trouble containing her laughter at this point as Miss Sarah's face is shining red. Once again, another figure steps in...
Inside, steps a young hispanic girl with a vixen appeal, clad in a pair of jeans and one of Ripplemagne's black "Believe" t-shirts. As beautiful as the other girls, she steps in and garners immense attention...
Karla Love:
"Sorry to... barge in...? But... uh..."
Miss Sarah:
"What is this!? Some kind of peep show?!"
Ripplemagne:
"I hope so. I love those Peeps commercials. Those dancing little chicks make the Ripp--"
As he says this, some aggressive splashing is heard from the bath tub as a baby chick bursts from the water and scurries off. There's an awkward silence as everyone stares at Ripplemagne who raises an eyebrow and scratches the back of his neck...
Ripplemagne:
"...Oh, like I have some divine insight on why in God's name that happened."
Karla Love:
"Hayden Clarke is waiting to begin the interview and... your hair... ugh..."
Ripplemagne:
"Hables ingles?! Donde what the fuck are you saying?"
Karla Love:
"I'm speaking English, Ripplemagne. Not all Mexicans are unable to speak English..."
Ripplemagne:
"I don't understand this strange language this girl speaks. Let me try to communicate with it. Me would gusta to sticko my la pinga in your el pooper. Comprendé?"
Karla Love:
"I can speak English..."
Ripplemagne:
"Mind boggling."
Before anything else could be added, the already crowded bathroom is further packed when a brunette girl in a tight black GEW t-shirt and torn up jeans steps in. It seems that there are modeling auditions with all of the beautiful girls in the bathroom at the moment and when she spoke, there was no more echo in the room due to all of the bodies absorbing the sound waves...
Hayden Clarke:
"Should I come back another time?"
Miss Sarah:
"Yes! And take all of them with you!"
Ripplemagne:
"Not at all, bella. You came at just the right time."
Hayden Clarke:
"Mm... this might just be my best interview to date."
Ripplemagne:
"This might just be the best erection I've had to date. Straylia, don't make any sudden movements..."
Miss Sarah:
"There's no way we're not getting sued..."
Ripplemagne:
"Worst comes to worse, we can fast forward to later on to us making a nekkid conga line and post it on redtube."
Miss Sarah:
"But I'm not ready to be a porn star!"
Ripplemagne:
"Don't worry. I'll be the star; you'll be complimentary."
Miss Sarah:
"Hey!"
Ripplemagne:
"Now, I know you're concerned that I'm prettier than you, but take solace in the fact that I'm so gorgeous that people will think you're even prettier than you are because you're with me. I'm like a 100% pure alcohol beverage; making wimmenz prettier since 1917."
Miss Sarah:
"I'm not making a porno!"
Ripplemagne:
"Hate to break it to ya, sweet cheeks, but you've already made one."
Miss Sarah:
"What?!"
Ripplemagne:
"So, you said you wanted to do an interview, bonny?"
Hayden Clarke:
"Yeah. Your assistant called last week to book an interview for an edition of Your Feature Presentation."
Ripplemagne:
"Oll korrect. Lets start with your name, sugar. What is it? Is it Bonnie?"
Hayden Clarke:
"Actual--"
Ripplemagne:
"Is it Sarah?"
Hayden Clarke:
"You don't unde--"
Ripplemagne:
"Jill?"
Hayden Clarke:
"The intervi--"
Ripplemagne:
"Jossie and your fantastic pussy... cats?"
Hayden Clarke:
"It's Hay--"
Ripplemagne:
"I bet it's Mickie. Because you're so fine... you're so fine you blow my mind!"
Hayden Clarke:
"It's Hayden. But you're not interviewing me. I'm interviewing you."
Ripplemagne:
"So, then, I can't ask you what color underwear you're wearing?"
Hayden Clarke:
"Maybe I'll let you find out for yourself later. But..."
Miss Sarah:
"Fat chance, hussy."
Hayden Clarke:
"...Lets begin the same way you were going to even though everyone already knows your name."
The camera zooms in on Ripplemagne for a moment as he's playing with two toy sail boats in the water, making sound effects to emulate that of mortars and harpoons. Glaring, Miss Sarah leans over and pinches him as the other girls giggle.
Ripplemagne:
"Ow! What?"
Miss Sarah:
"I know you get a little too much enjoyment out of doing so, but state your name."
Ripplemagne:
"Oh. See, the magnificent one stems from the deepest trenches of the magical land of mobsters and drug dealers. Commerce and big business. Prostitutes and extortion. Diversity and institutionalized racism. I hail from the Empire State of New Yawk."
There's a silence that overtakes the room as Miss Sarah buries her hand into her face...
Valeah:
"State your name. Not name your state."
Ripplemagne:
"The magnificent Ripplemagne may be a touch dyslexic."
Miss Sarah:
"Moving on."
Hayden Clarke:
"On Thursday, you reluctantly teamed with the man who put you on leave in the first place. How do you think you're going to coexist with your past so sketchy?"
Ripplemagne:
"Right now, the Pillsbury Doughboy is lugging around the Ripplemagne's goldmember, blithering on about being fat and how he won the belts without my aid; how it was a three on one match, but what he fails to recognize is that it was a handicap match from the beginning. It was, essentially, Ripplemagne and Napalm against Sah'ta Thor.
You can toss the dice any way you want, but Warner Sister was not medically cleared to compete and due to Chelsea Reed's vendetta against her, the show went on.
But a few months ago, the first night I was booked, I remember watching the aftermath of the main event at Extreme Extravaganza. And when Baby Dogg felt that her victory was hollow, the first thing she did was offer Brookeback Mountain a rematch.
Likewise, I'm giving Sister Warner her beck and call on a rematch for the Ripplemagne's goldmember. Speaking of which, being that this is the Ripplemagne's first title belt..."
It seems like Ripplemagne changes his accent at this point to sound distinctly Northern Italian...
Ripplemagne:
"I hope-a you're satisfied, Ms.-a Reed, you son-a-ma-gun! You insulted my-a girlfriend and you insulted-a me! But I'm-a gonna prove you wrong about-a Ripparella. 'Cause I'm-a going to prove to be the greatest World-a Tag Team Goldmember of all the times.
Pull up the Honk-A-Meter!"
Imagery appears at the lower end of the screen of what looks like the Honky Tonk man on the left end of the screen and Ripplemagne on the right end. In between them is two orange boxes and a white circle.
Ripplemagne:
"You see, the Honky Tonky Man was World-a Tag Team Goldmember for a record hundred and fourty-seven-a days."
In the left orange box next to the Honky Tonk Man, the number 147 appears...
Ripplemagne:
"Ripplemagne has already been World-a Tag Team Goldmember for-a nine days!"
In the right orange box next to Ripplemagne, the number 9 appears.
Ripplemagne:
"According... to... the Honk-A-Meter, that's-a merely hundred and thirty-eight days. That's-a nothing for me. And then, I will be the greatest World-a Tag Team Goldmember-o of all the times."
Miss Sarah:
"Moron, Troy Gafgen and Mark Chapman have the record for longest reign; not The Honky Tonk Man. In fact, I'm pretty certain The Honky Tonk Man has never appeared on G.E.W. T.V."
Ripplemagne:
"Why must you ruin everything? Is it because your genitals are in the inside and the phrase "free ballin'" is lost upon you?"
Hayden Clarke:
"Out of curiosity, why do you keep calling the championship 'goldmember'?"
Ripplemagne:
"Have you ever watched Austin Powers?"
Hayden Clarke:
"Yes, but in the movie, the goldmember is his--"
Ripplemagne:
"See, Miss Sarah promised for every title victory and defense, she will--"
Miss Sarah:
"Next question, please!"
It's clear that Miss Sarah is not fond of this interview being conducted while they're sitting in the bath tub, barren of clothing and less fond of Ripplemagne almost spilling the beans on something...
At this point, it seems Valeah has stepped out along with Andy V....
Hayden Clarke:
"With Chelsea Reed's enemies all falling under insurmountable obstacles and you having stood against her army in the past, how are you feeling about your future in Global Extreme Wrestling?"
Ripplemagne:
"Excited."
Hayden Clarke:
"...Does that mean that you're not concerned?"
Ripplemagne:
"Nah. The way I see it is that she either wants to touch me so badly that she'll leave me alone or, the more unlikely situation, she'll put a series of obstacles in front of me that will keep me entertained."
Hayden Clarke:
"So, you must be feeling pretty confident in your future here. Any plans?"
Ripplemagne:
"With the Sterling Goldmember being vacant, the Ripplemagne has a notch to place on his belt there. Of cour--"
Before he can finish, Karla Love steps back in the room with a down look on her face...
Valeah:
"Sorry to interrupt, but..."
Ripplemagne:
"What is it, Mulata?! Can you not see that the Ripplemagne is courting Heidi--"
Hayden Clarke:
"Hayden."
Ripplemagne:
"--Into secksie tiem?!"
Valeah:
"Your mother is on the phone. Your brother and his wife were in an accident..."
A blank look appears on Ripplemagne's face as his vivacious mannerisms drop as he rears back without a reaction...
Miss Sarah:
"Um... we're going to have to reschedule this interview. Until then, this is the cast of Your Feature Presentation and we're wishing you a happy Labor Day."
The camera pans out as the others clear out of the bathroom and Ripplemagne remains with a stoic expression next to Miss Sarah...
* * *
