The Gate Keeper
* * *
Random Fact
Nostradamus did not predict the world to end in 2012. Quite the contrary, he predicted it to end in 3797 (or 3786, by some sources) Anno Domini.
"Many times in the week I am overtaken by an ecstasy; having rendered my nocturnal studies agreeable through long calculation, I have composed books of prophecies, of which each contains one hundred astronomical quatrains of prophecies. I have sought to polish them a bit obscurely. They are perpetual prophecies, for they extend from now to the year 3797."
In fact, if you believe the Nostradamus propaganda, it is impossible for the world to end in 2012.
"In the year 1999 and seven months,
From the sky will come the great King of Terror.
He will bring back to life the King of the Mongols;
Before and after war reigns.
The war will last seven and twenty years."
Nor is there a Bible Code to be found in Revelations or it would completely dismiss a very cut and dry quote in the Bible, which would null out the entire argument because the contradiction would shatter the book's legitimacy.
Matthew 24:34-36
"Verily I say unto you, This generation shall not pass, till all these things be fulfilled.
Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away.
But of that day and hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels of heaven, but my Father only."
Nor do the Mayans predict anything. Ending the Long Count Calendar (mind you, there are a plethora of other calendars that the Mayans use and if they believed the world would end in 2012, all of them would end on the same date) on the thirteenth Bak'tun (144,000 days) is not suspicious in the least when you consider that a scribe would have to record 144,000 days (or around 400 years) with five brackets on a vigesimal odometer -- on stone -- to do so.
The Mayans do not predict the world to end in 2012. They, simply, stopped recording. When you consider that numbers do not end, any rationale human being will come to the conclusion that there is no end to a long count.
This has been a cordial message from Your Feature Presentation, urging you to stfu about 2012.
* * *
And now, for your feature presentation...
* * *
In typical Your Feature Presentation fashion, we open up to a fairly illuminated and overly decorated stage. White banners and streamers litter the stage and drape over every pillar and ceiling fixture in sight. In contrast to an enormous pearl clam is situated at the center of the stage, the actual background is but a mere slate of brick wall with a fixture hanging toward the top and curtains of decor hanging from the top.
The strobe lights affixed to the ceiling, beaming down along the stage to ensure that every inch is barren of shadow is complimented by the colorless, linen-esque carpet draped along the surface of the stage. The bright atmosphere is the perfect scene for a photo shoot or modeling collage. Undoubtedly, chosen by the ever vainglorious Ripplemagne for this very reason. But... where is the zany Sterling Champion?
Our question isn't quite answered, but the scene is characterized by the creamy skinned Miss Sarah walking onto the stage in a skimpy gray and white business suit with a clipboard and her red-painted lips enveloped by a pristine smile. The usually auburn-haired manager of Ripplemagne sports a fondness for the new pigment of her hair; a glimmering blonde which could rival the golden straw produced by Rumplestiltzkin -- y'know... without the whole straw texture thing.
The soft toned girl utters a few words in a dulcet Australian accent permeating from her throat...
Miss Sarah:
"Ladies and gentlemen, let me be the first to welcome you to the second season of Your Feature Presentation! After twenty-six episodes, we have finally reached the end of our first series of adventures."
As she's speaking, text appears above her in a fashion reminiscent of the hit reality television show, The Fifth Wheel. In this case, subtitles appear that advertise the full volume of Your Feature Presentation's first season in high definition with bonus content.
Miss Sarah:
"Actually, we intended to do a special Halloween edition of Your Feature Presentation, but because the first season ended, it had to be delayed. Which, in its own way, works to our advantage because we had a uh... how shall I say... eventful... Halloween?"
Once again, text appears in the form of a thought bubble near the voluptuous vixen's head. In it, we can clearly read, "It was actually pretty hilarious." In that instant, we hear a muffled voice pervade the stage from the clam...
???:
"Oh, eventful, was it?! I'm glad it was eventful for you! I was violated unscrupulously!"
Another thought bubble appears, but this time, from the clam. This one says, "Oh, eventful, was it?! I'm glad it was eventful for you! I was violated unscrupulously!" I... uh... I guess that it was thinking the same thing that it said.
Miss Sarah:
"Shush! I didn't introduce you yet!"
???:
"Well, hurry your kangaroo-loving ass up! I'm starting to chafe!"
Miss Sarah:
"As I was saying, we're hoping to get you the footage of our eventful Halloween. My apologies if we do not, but we're hoping to get it to you by next week."
???:
"I'm glad you're cashing in on the darkest hour of my life! Some friend you are!"
Miss Sarah:
"Shut up! Ahem. It should also be noted that the cast of this season will differ from last season. Your Feature Presentation's cast is now Ripplemagne, The White Mage, St. Aegranon von Encore, Hayden Clarke and myself. And, of course, the members of Matinée Unlimited will make guest appearances."
Subtitles appear again with a cartoon drawing of St. Aegranon von Encore breaking a walnut with his hammer. It reads, "As of now, we are unsure if he actually speaks."
Miss Sarah:
"But this isn't The Miss Sarah Show, so I'm going to turn it over to the host of this show, hot off of his double defeat over the former Sterling Champion, Javon Lynch. Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the King of Hearts... the Patriarch of Pretty... the Genitalia of Professional Wrestling... the Gate Keeper of Global Extreme Wrestling...
The infamous... Ripplemagne!"
In the background, the fixture mentioned earlier lights up to feature the words "Applaud" with crimson L.E.D. lights. This, of course, is met with a surge of artificial applause. A cloud of white smoke fills the stage as the clam begins to slowly open. After a moment, it opens wide enough for the fair skinned lad inside to push it open to a vertical base.
In that instant, the lanky lad stumbles out of the clam; his wavy, champagne hair bouncing around his 'triangle face' while his high cheek bones, blue green eyes and rosy lips all clench to brace itself for a splat. As he makes his way from the clam, it would seem that his mismatched sneakers have snagged on something on the stage, causing his petite frame to fumble over and crash to the stage, face first.
Despite the fact that he leaps to his feet quickly with a 'whoa wtf' face on, the first thing we notice is the fact that the fedora he was wearing when he came out has fallen off. Good job, dick.
He's stylishly clad in a pair of tie-dyed 1969 bootcut jeans, a red Believe t-shirt and a black blazer with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to expose his rather dainty forearms and slender fingers. Fixing his popped collar, the rock star-like performer skips over to the front of the stage with a grin on his face...
Ripplemagne:
"Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you. Thank you. You're far too kind!"
Another thought bubble appears over Ripplemagne's head as he takes a few bows; this one says "Maybe if I say thank you enough times, people will think that there's a live studio audience here."
In that instant though, a bit of static fills the audio before the applause morphs into a series of jeers. Raising an eyebrow and dropping his jaw slightly on one side, Ripplemagne looks passed the camera and cocks his head up...
Ripplemagne:
"Frenchie, what the Hell?! Just because I said they were too kind doesn't mean you have to flick the other switch! It's called improvisation!"
The White Mage:
"Je suis désolé, Monsieur Ripplemagne! My settings aren't what they were. It keeps giving me an error with a picture of toast when I try to turn it off."
Ripplemagne:
"Confound them! Those blasted Dark Sides of Toast shall hear about this one! I will not take this one sitting down!"
Miss Sarah:
"For the last time, there is no such secret galactic organization called The Dark Side of Toast trying to recruit you as their Admiral! You've been on a tangent about that since that guy on that internet forum told you to 'Join the dark side of toast'."
Ripplemagne:
"Straylia! Do you not see?! It's a sign! They sabotaged Escargo over here and even left their logo to ensure that we knew it was them!"
Miss Sarah:
"Is it not more rational to presume that Chris was pissed that you replaced his orange juice with grape juice and tinkered with the controls to get back at you?"
Ripplemagne:
"Well--"
Miss Sarah:
"I don't want to hear it. Because, chances are, whatever you're going to say is not going to rectify this problem and will only hurt my head even more. See? The audio is off now. Proceed as you would have."
Pressing her hand to her face, Miss Sarah sighs as even she doesn't know what Ripplemagne is going to do here. But what it was was the farthest thing from anyone's mind. Because Ripplemagne's voice... was adjusted to sound like Rodney Dangerfield...
Ripplemagne:
"What a crowd! What a crowd!"
A cringe appears on the face of Miss Sarah's face as we hear her whisper 'oh, dear God, almighty'. Meanwhile, even Ripplemagne's mannerisms seem to mirror the fellow New York comedian.
Ripplemagne:
"Now, I'll tell ya right now that last week, I was in rough shape, y'know? Last week, I told my wife that we need a home improvement loan. She gave me a thousand dollars to move out!
I tell ya, my wife is always something, y'know? The other day I called her up and I said, 'Honey, I been thinking about the last time we had sex and I'm getting excited.' She said, 'Who is this?'
I tell ya, my wife? She never went for me. The first time I called her, she told me to 'Come on over; there's nobody home.' I went over and there was nobody home!"
More artificial cheers come into the audio as subtitles appear that say "Miss Sarah is not amused. Ripplemagne is an avid fan of Rodney Dangerfield." The cheers begin to pick up as Ripplemagne smiles to himself and grabs Miss Sarah by the hand and tugs her over. Yanking her closer by her hair, Ripplemagne gently begins to tap her on the cheek with the flat end of his hand.
Ripplemagne:
"Thank you, thank you. Take my wife! She's a bit stunad, but if you smack her around enough, she'll cooperate!"
Breaking free from his grasp, Miss Sarah winds her hand back and cracks it into Ripplemagne's face, causing him to do a complete 360 on the point of his foot with his neck cocked back. With a dazed look on his face, Ripplemagne stumbles around to catch his bearings.
Ripplemagne:
"I tell ya, that's the story of my life. I don't get no respect. No respect at all!"
Finally, his voice returns to normal as he refreshes himself like two clicks will to your browser. As his face blotches up like he was just donned with rouge, Ripplemagne smirks...
Ripplemagne:
"Y'know, Straylia! I've had enough of your shit! I'm not going to take your rude behavior any longer! In fact, I'm going on strike!"
Miss Sarah:
"What?! You can't go on strike! It's your show!"
Ripplemagne:
"Hmph! Watch me!"
As she takes a step back and raises an eyebrow, Ripplemagne crosses his arms and cocks his neck to look away from her in a rather theatrical motion.
Miss Sarah:
"My apologies, ladies and gentlemen. As you're aware if you've followed us through the first season, the actions and words of Ripplemagne are very difficult to keep in stability.
But this does give us ample time to discuss some serious business. One of Global Extreme Wrestling's newest signees, Katherine Brown, has been the only one to speak on the upcoming Battle Royale. And I mean this in the best possible way when I say this... but she's kind of... um... retarded."
Scratching the back of her head with a statue-esque Ripplemagne behind her, Miss Sarah continues. Usually, it's not her job to point out the flaws in Ripplemagne's opponents, but she had two reasons for doing so. The first was that the errors, in her mind, were so glaringly obvious that even she could handle breaking it down. The second was that she knew Ripplemagne likely wouldn't bother addressing her given the gender difference; in fact, anyone who knows Ripplemagne would know that this would be a difficult match for him.
Not only was he the only person in the match who had bad blood with three of the four disputants, but Ripplemagne abided by an in-ring code. You can bring up the fact that Ace Static has been out for Ripplemagne's blood from the get go or Igor Rumpkin's claim to leave with the Sterling Championship and his umbrage outside the Movie Trailer or Katherine Brown's immediate disdain for the quirky lad. But it all pales in comparison to the fact that Ripplemagne would bring little to no offense against either Igor Rumpkins or Katherine Brown, given his code of honor.
Having to compete against four people who would undoubtedly see you as the primary target was bad enough. But having two of the four competitors untouchable made the task seem insurmountable.
Miss Sarah:
"I don't claim to be a rocket scientist, but her mannerisms and just the way she speaks reminds me of Adele Corners from the movie, Kalifornia. I have a hard time believing that she doesn't have brain damage.
Ace Static -- a long history with the company? He's had one match... that he lost. To my knowledge, the only history he's had with the company is getting embarrassed by the King of Hearts on the Global Extreme Wrestling Forums after he tried to berate him. Then, again, via commercial broadcast. Then, again, when Oliver Creed did the same.
Realistically, the only person booked for the Sterling Battle Royale with a history in the company is the Sterling Champion, himself. In fact, given the fact that he's the only one in the match with a cemented history here, I find it a bit weird that she had the least to say about him.
And where she came up with the fact that my client gave her anything less than a warm welcome when it was her who--"
As she went to continue, she turned to see the Patriarch of Pretty plundering the depth of his nostril with his index finger. As her eyes open wide and a gag nearly forms in her mouth, she quivers...
Miss Sarah:
"What the Hell are you doing?!"
By her expression, it's clear that she's in disbelief that the ever-so-vain Ripplemagne would even think about doing such a thing...
Ripplemagne:
"Having a pick-it! What does it look like?!"
Miss Sarah:
"That's not how you have a picket, you numb skull!"
Ripplemagne:
"Well, damn! This is too hard then!"
Thinking to himself, Ripplemagne jumps up as a cartoon of a lightbulb appears above his head. Winding his hip back, Ripplemagne slides across the floor and swings his hip to the other side of his waist, crashing it into Miss Sarah and sending her flying off stage.
Snapping into a theatrical pose, Ripplemagne begins to roll his shoulders as "Hips Don't Lie" by Shakira begins to fill the audio. The strobe lights begin to rotate and turn a navy blue color to darken the stage. In the background, Miss Sarah facepalms as Ripplemagne does a Michael Jackson spin, using his movements to kick the linen tapestry off of the stage. Moon walking in both directions, Ripplemagne clears the stage of the white linen to reveal the hardwood floors.
Popping and locking, Ripplemagne begins to remove his blazer slowly before flinging it right into Miss Sarah's face. His movements look pretty well choreographed as he slides his shirt off to an artificial chorus of girly screens. Beneath it, we can see his chiseled upper body covered by a pair of black suspenders.
Ripplemagne:
"Hit it!"
In that instant, Ripplemagne catches a green fedora and a black cane and jumps into another Michael Jackson pose as Dwight Mare, The Tang and Bucky Skyler emerge from the curtains, doing West Side Story spins to the center of the stage. The four ready up as we prepare for... yet another performance...
The other three are dressed up in Leprechaun outfits; The Tang and Dwight Mare look like the Little Lad from the Berries and Cream commercial and Bucky Skyler has a pair of brown slacks and a green bow tie over his bare chest. All of them have the same hat on.
The four begin to step from side to side in a jig as the "Lolipop Guild" song from the Wizard of Oz begins to play...
Matinée Unlimited:
"We represent the Lollipop Guild.
The Lollipop Guild.
The Lollipop Guild.
And in the name of the Lollipop Guild,
We wish to welcome you to Munchkin Land."
Ripplemagne:
"Ripplemagnia runnin' wild! Believe it!"
The four stand in upright poses with jazz hands, thinking that what they did just now was actually cool. In the background, however, Miss Sarah facepalms as a thought bubble appears above her head, which says "I hate my life."
Fin.
* * *
Random Fact
Nostradamus did not predict the world to end in 2012. Quite the contrary, he predicted it to end in 3797 (or 3786, by some sources) Anno Domini.
"Many times in the week I am overtaken by an ecstasy; having rendered my nocturnal studies agreeable through long calculation, I have composed books of prophecies, of which each contains one hundred astronomical quatrains of prophecies. I have sought to polish them a bit obscurely. They are perpetual prophecies, for they extend from now to the year 3797."
In fact, if you believe the Nostradamus propaganda, it is impossible for the world to end in 2012.
"In the year 1999 and seven months,
From the sky will come the great King of Terror.
He will bring back to life the King of the Mongols;
Before and after war reigns.
The war will last seven and twenty years."
Nor is there a Bible Code to be found in Revelations or it would completely dismiss a very cut and dry quote in the Bible, which would null out the entire argument because the contradiction would shatter the book's legitimacy.
Matthew 24:34-36
"Verily I say unto you, This generation shall not pass, till all these things be fulfilled.
Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away.
But of that day and hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels of heaven, but my Father only."
Nor do the Mayans predict anything. Ending the Long Count Calendar (mind you, there are a plethora of other calendars that the Mayans use and if they believed the world would end in 2012, all of them would end on the same date) on the thirteenth Bak'tun (144,000 days) is not suspicious in the least when you consider that a scribe would have to record 144,000 days (or around 400 years) with five brackets on a vigesimal odometer -- on stone -- to do so.
The Mayans do not predict the world to end in 2012. They, simply, stopped recording. When you consider that numbers do not end, any rationale human being will come to the conclusion that there is no end to a long count.
This has been a cordial message from Your Feature Presentation, urging you to stfu about 2012.
* * *
And now, for your feature presentation...
* * *
In typical Your Feature Presentation fashion, we open up to a fairly illuminated and overly decorated stage. White banners and streamers litter the stage and drape over every pillar and ceiling fixture in sight. In contrast to an enormous pearl clam is situated at the center of the stage, the actual background is but a mere slate of brick wall with a fixture hanging toward the top and curtains of decor hanging from the top.
The strobe lights affixed to the ceiling, beaming down along the stage to ensure that every inch is barren of shadow is complimented by the colorless, linen-esque carpet draped along the surface of the stage. The bright atmosphere is the perfect scene for a photo shoot or modeling collage. Undoubtedly, chosen by the ever vainglorious Ripplemagne for this very reason. But... where is the zany Sterling Champion?
Our question isn't quite answered, but the scene is characterized by the creamy skinned Miss Sarah walking onto the stage in a skimpy gray and white business suit with a clipboard and her red-painted lips enveloped by a pristine smile. The usually auburn-haired manager of Ripplemagne sports a fondness for the new pigment of her hair; a glimmering blonde which could rival the golden straw produced by Rumplestiltzkin -- y'know... without the whole straw texture thing.
The soft toned girl utters a few words in a dulcet Australian accent permeating from her throat...
Miss Sarah:
"Ladies and gentlemen, let me be the first to welcome you to the second season of Your Feature Presentation! After twenty-six episodes, we have finally reached the end of our first series of adventures."
As she's speaking, text appears above her in a fashion reminiscent of the hit reality television show, The Fifth Wheel. In this case, subtitles appear that advertise the full volume of Your Feature Presentation's first season in high definition with bonus content.
Miss Sarah:
"Actually, we intended to do a special Halloween edition of Your Feature Presentation, but because the first season ended, it had to be delayed. Which, in its own way, works to our advantage because we had a uh... how shall I say... eventful... Halloween?"
Once again, text appears in the form of a thought bubble near the voluptuous vixen's head. In it, we can clearly read, "It was actually pretty hilarious." In that instant, we hear a muffled voice pervade the stage from the clam...
???:
"Oh, eventful, was it?! I'm glad it was eventful for you! I was violated unscrupulously!"
Another thought bubble appears, but this time, from the clam. This one says, "Oh, eventful, was it?! I'm glad it was eventful for you! I was violated unscrupulously!" I... uh... I guess that it was thinking the same thing that it said.
Miss Sarah:
"Shush! I didn't introduce you yet!"
???:
"Well, hurry your kangaroo-loving ass up! I'm starting to chafe!"
Miss Sarah:
"As I was saying, we're hoping to get you the footage of our eventful Halloween. My apologies if we do not, but we're hoping to get it to you by next week."
???:
"I'm glad you're cashing in on the darkest hour of my life! Some friend you are!"
Miss Sarah:
"Shut up! Ahem. It should also be noted that the cast of this season will differ from last season. Your Feature Presentation's cast is now Ripplemagne, The White Mage, St. Aegranon von Encore, Hayden Clarke and myself. And, of course, the members of Matinée Unlimited will make guest appearances."
Subtitles appear again with a cartoon drawing of St. Aegranon von Encore breaking a walnut with his hammer. It reads, "As of now, we are unsure if he actually speaks."
Miss Sarah:
"But this isn't The Miss Sarah Show, so I'm going to turn it over to the host of this show, hot off of his double defeat over the former Sterling Champion, Javon Lynch. Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the King of Hearts... the Patriarch of Pretty... the Genitalia of Professional Wrestling... the Gate Keeper of Global Extreme Wrestling...
The infamous... Ripplemagne!"
In the background, the fixture mentioned earlier lights up to feature the words "Applaud" with crimson L.E.D. lights. This, of course, is met with a surge of artificial applause. A cloud of white smoke fills the stage as the clam begins to slowly open. After a moment, it opens wide enough for the fair skinned lad inside to push it open to a vertical base.
In that instant, the lanky lad stumbles out of the clam; his wavy, champagne hair bouncing around his 'triangle face' while his high cheek bones, blue green eyes and rosy lips all clench to brace itself for a splat. As he makes his way from the clam, it would seem that his mismatched sneakers have snagged on something on the stage, causing his petite frame to fumble over and crash to the stage, face first.
Despite the fact that he leaps to his feet quickly with a 'whoa wtf' face on, the first thing we notice is the fact that the fedora he was wearing when he came out has fallen off. Good job, dick.
He's stylishly clad in a pair of tie-dyed 1969 bootcut jeans, a red Believe t-shirt and a black blazer with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to expose his rather dainty forearms and slender fingers. Fixing his popped collar, the rock star-like performer skips over to the front of the stage with a grin on his face...
Ripplemagne:
"Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you. Thank you. You're far too kind!"
Another thought bubble appears over Ripplemagne's head as he takes a few bows; this one says "Maybe if I say thank you enough times, people will think that there's a live studio audience here."
In that instant though, a bit of static fills the audio before the applause morphs into a series of jeers. Raising an eyebrow and dropping his jaw slightly on one side, Ripplemagne looks passed the camera and cocks his head up...
Ripplemagne:
"Frenchie, what the Hell?! Just because I said they were too kind doesn't mean you have to flick the other switch! It's called improvisation!"
The White Mage:
"Je suis désolé, Monsieur Ripplemagne! My settings aren't what they were. It keeps giving me an error with a picture of toast when I try to turn it off."
Ripplemagne:
"Confound them! Those blasted Dark Sides of Toast shall hear about this one! I will not take this one sitting down!"
Miss Sarah:
"For the last time, there is no such secret galactic organization called The Dark Side of Toast trying to recruit you as their Admiral! You've been on a tangent about that since that guy on that internet forum told you to 'Join the dark side of toast'."
Ripplemagne:
"Straylia! Do you not see?! It's a sign! They sabotaged Escargo over here and even left their logo to ensure that we knew it was them!"
Miss Sarah:
"Is it not more rational to presume that Chris was pissed that you replaced his orange juice with grape juice and tinkered with the controls to get back at you?"
Ripplemagne:
"Well--"
Miss Sarah:
"I don't want to hear it. Because, chances are, whatever you're going to say is not going to rectify this problem and will only hurt my head even more. See? The audio is off now. Proceed as you would have."
Pressing her hand to her face, Miss Sarah sighs as even she doesn't know what Ripplemagne is going to do here. But what it was was the farthest thing from anyone's mind. Because Ripplemagne's voice... was adjusted to sound like Rodney Dangerfield...
Ripplemagne:
"What a crowd! What a crowd!"
A cringe appears on the face of Miss Sarah's face as we hear her whisper 'oh, dear God, almighty'. Meanwhile, even Ripplemagne's mannerisms seem to mirror the fellow New York comedian.
Ripplemagne:
"Now, I'll tell ya right now that last week, I was in rough shape, y'know? Last week, I told my wife that we need a home improvement loan. She gave me a thousand dollars to move out!
I tell ya, my wife is always something, y'know? The other day I called her up and I said, 'Honey, I been thinking about the last time we had sex and I'm getting excited.' She said, 'Who is this?'
I tell ya, my wife? She never went for me. The first time I called her, she told me to 'Come on over; there's nobody home.' I went over and there was nobody home!"
More artificial cheers come into the audio as subtitles appear that say "Miss Sarah is not amused. Ripplemagne is an avid fan of Rodney Dangerfield." The cheers begin to pick up as Ripplemagne smiles to himself and grabs Miss Sarah by the hand and tugs her over. Yanking her closer by her hair, Ripplemagne gently begins to tap her on the cheek with the flat end of his hand.
Ripplemagne:
"Thank you, thank you. Take my wife! She's a bit stunad, but if you smack her around enough, she'll cooperate!"
Breaking free from his grasp, Miss Sarah winds her hand back and cracks it into Ripplemagne's face, causing him to do a complete 360 on the point of his foot with his neck cocked back. With a dazed look on his face, Ripplemagne stumbles around to catch his bearings.
Ripplemagne:
"I tell ya, that's the story of my life. I don't get no respect. No respect at all!"
Finally, his voice returns to normal as he refreshes himself like two clicks will to your browser. As his face blotches up like he was just donned with rouge, Ripplemagne smirks...
Ripplemagne:
"Y'know, Straylia! I've had enough of your shit! I'm not going to take your rude behavior any longer! In fact, I'm going on strike!"
Miss Sarah:
"What?! You can't go on strike! It's your show!"
Ripplemagne:
"Hmph! Watch me!"
As she takes a step back and raises an eyebrow, Ripplemagne crosses his arms and cocks his neck to look away from her in a rather theatrical motion.
Miss Sarah:
"My apologies, ladies and gentlemen. As you're aware if you've followed us through the first season, the actions and words of Ripplemagne are very difficult to keep in stability.
But this does give us ample time to discuss some serious business. One of Global Extreme Wrestling's newest signees, Katherine Brown, has been the only one to speak on the upcoming Battle Royale. And I mean this in the best possible way when I say this... but she's kind of... um... retarded."
Scratching the back of her head with a statue-esque Ripplemagne behind her, Miss Sarah continues. Usually, it's not her job to point out the flaws in Ripplemagne's opponents, but she had two reasons for doing so. The first was that the errors, in her mind, were so glaringly obvious that even she could handle breaking it down. The second was that she knew Ripplemagne likely wouldn't bother addressing her given the gender difference; in fact, anyone who knows Ripplemagne would know that this would be a difficult match for him.
Not only was he the only person in the match who had bad blood with three of the four disputants, but Ripplemagne abided by an in-ring code. You can bring up the fact that Ace Static has been out for Ripplemagne's blood from the get go or Igor Rumpkin's claim to leave with the Sterling Championship and his umbrage outside the Movie Trailer or Katherine Brown's immediate disdain for the quirky lad. But it all pales in comparison to the fact that Ripplemagne would bring little to no offense against either Igor Rumpkins or Katherine Brown, given his code of honor.
Having to compete against four people who would undoubtedly see you as the primary target was bad enough. But having two of the four competitors untouchable made the task seem insurmountable.
Miss Sarah:
"I don't claim to be a rocket scientist, but her mannerisms and just the way she speaks reminds me of Adele Corners from the movie, Kalifornia. I have a hard time believing that she doesn't have brain damage.
Ace Static -- a long history with the company? He's had one match... that he lost. To my knowledge, the only history he's had with the company is getting embarrassed by the King of Hearts on the Global Extreme Wrestling Forums after he tried to berate him. Then, again, via commercial broadcast. Then, again, when Oliver Creed did the same.
Realistically, the only person booked for the Sterling Battle Royale with a history in the company is the Sterling Champion, himself. In fact, given the fact that he's the only one in the match with a cemented history here, I find it a bit weird that she had the least to say about him.
And where she came up with the fact that my client gave her anything less than a warm welcome when it was her who--"
As she went to continue, she turned to see the Patriarch of Pretty plundering the depth of his nostril with his index finger. As her eyes open wide and a gag nearly forms in her mouth, she quivers...
Miss Sarah:
"What the Hell are you doing?!"
By her expression, it's clear that she's in disbelief that the ever-so-vain Ripplemagne would even think about doing such a thing...
Ripplemagne:
"Having a pick-it! What does it look like?!"
Miss Sarah:
"That's not how you have a picket, you numb skull!"
Ripplemagne:
"Well, damn! This is too hard then!"
Thinking to himself, Ripplemagne jumps up as a cartoon of a lightbulb appears above his head. Winding his hip back, Ripplemagne slides across the floor and swings his hip to the other side of his waist, crashing it into Miss Sarah and sending her flying off stage.
Snapping into a theatrical pose, Ripplemagne begins to roll his shoulders as "Hips Don't Lie" by Shakira begins to fill the audio. The strobe lights begin to rotate and turn a navy blue color to darken the stage. In the background, Miss Sarah facepalms as Ripplemagne does a Michael Jackson spin, using his movements to kick the linen tapestry off of the stage. Moon walking in both directions, Ripplemagne clears the stage of the white linen to reveal the hardwood floors.
Popping and locking, Ripplemagne begins to remove his blazer slowly before flinging it right into Miss Sarah's face. His movements look pretty well choreographed as he slides his shirt off to an artificial chorus of girly screens. Beneath it, we can see his chiseled upper body covered by a pair of black suspenders.
Ripplemagne:
"Hit it!"
In that instant, Ripplemagne catches a green fedora and a black cane and jumps into another Michael Jackson pose as Dwight Mare, The Tang and Bucky Skyler emerge from the curtains, doing West Side Story spins to the center of the stage. The four ready up as we prepare for... yet another performance...
The other three are dressed up in Leprechaun outfits; The Tang and Dwight Mare look like the Little Lad from the Berries and Cream commercial and Bucky Skyler has a pair of brown slacks and a green bow tie over his bare chest. All of them have the same hat on.
The four begin to step from side to side in a jig as the "Lolipop Guild" song from the Wizard of Oz begins to play...
Matinée Unlimited:
"We represent the Lollipop Guild.
The Lollipop Guild.
The Lollipop Guild.
And in the name of the Lollipop Guild,
We wish to welcome you to Munchkin Land."
Ripplemagne:
"Ripplemagnia runnin' wild! Believe it!"
The four stand in upright poses with jazz hands, thinking that what they did just now was actually cool. In the background, however, Miss Sarah facepalms as a thought bubble appears above her head, which says "I hate my life."
Fin.
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