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Post by Laura Phoenix - HBIC on Nov 27, 2021 17:42:19 GMT -5
PWS: Apex Presents Riot Tuesday, December 7, 2021 State Farm Arena Atlanta, GASingles MatchMike Hawk vs. Audrey RussowRoleplays will be due Sunday, December 5, 2021 at 11:59 pm est.1 rp each, 300 word minimum, 5000 word maximum.
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Post by Mike Hawk on Dec 5, 2021 19:49:40 GMT -5
*Outside of a large white building with the word “HOSPITAL” written on it, a red cross on another wall. An ambulance pulls up to the outside of the emergency room. Inside, we see multiple nurses running around, masks on of course, going to different rooms and checking on patients. Someone walks into the hospital who looks familiar. A Canadian man with black hair and a bad attitude. Mike Hawk. He’s wearing a t-shirt with Christmassy writing on it that says “I’m Dreaming of a Red Christmas”, with ‘red’ in bloody red text. He looks particularly cross about something as he starts to walk across the halls of the hospital. Carrying his briefcase with him, he first grabs two lunch trollies and pushes them as hard as he can towards a wall of the hospital. He sings to the tune of ‘deck the halls’.*
Mike: Wreck the walls with mounds of trolleys, fa la la la la, la la la la!
*The trolleys hit the wall and crash, spilling food all over the hallway, causing one nurse to trip and fall. She has a name tag that says “Molly”.*
Mike: ‘Tis the season to trip Molly, fa la la la la, la la la la!
*Hawk walks carefully past the discarded trolleys, stepping over Molly as he walks down the hallway, then turns down another hall.*
Mike: Everyone can fucking eat me, fa la la, la la la, la la la!
*He walks towards the reception area.*
Mike: I technically beat Nosferatu…
*Someone’s about to speak to him when he puts a finger up towards them.*
Mike: Fa la la la la, la la la la!
*He pauses.*
Mike: …Okay, what did you want?
Receptionist: Why are you here, sir?
Mike: I’m visiting a patient.
Receptionist: Alright, just be careful.
Mike: You don’t need to tell me twice!
*As he walks a bit further inside, he sees Devon Ryder and his girlfriend Desiree passing him by, making their way out of the hospital.*
Devon: Oh, hey Mike!
Mike: Hey.
*They both wave at one another as they pass by.*
Mike: Wait, weren’t you supposed to be in Windsor?
Devon: What?
Mike: What?
*they stand there in awkward silence for a few seconds.*
Mike: …Well, I’ve got places to be. See you at the Christmas party!
Devon: You know it!
*They both walk off in opposite directions, until Ryder’s no longer in sight.*
Mike: …Nice guy. Shame about that face.
*He continues walking across the hospital, passing by several rooms of people who just stare at him as he passes.*
Mike: So! Audrey Russow…
*He smirks.*
Mike: You’ve got a lot of nerve challenging the President of Pro Wrestling. I know, I know, you come from a wrestling family. But that’s like Humphrey Bundy saying he comes from a murdering family. Like, yes, that’s true, but who the fuck is HUMPHREY Bundy!? Y’know what I’m saying?
Nurse: …No, I don’t.
Mike: Nobody asked you.
*He shoves her aside, eliciting a scream, as he walks up a short set of stairs, towards a set of elevators.*
Mike: My point is, if I were to lose to a Russow, I’d want it to be one of the good ones. …Assuming there actually ARE any good ones.
*He walks to the elevator and presses the button 6 times.*
Mike: See, Audrey… you’ve had many accomplishments in your life, and I don’t want to say that it was only because of your last name, but I’m thinking it pretty goddamn loudly. And tonight, I’m going to prove it. You can’t beat me. You won’t beat me. Hell, little Johnny Sadnuts shouldn’t have beaten me!
*The elevator dings and the doors open. Someone steps out and Hawk trips them, chuckling a bit. They get back up, glaring at Mike as they walk off.*
Mike: And I know what a lot of you are thinking, and you’re right. I am using a new cologne, thanks for asking! And I know a few OTHERS of you will be asking… am I still angry about my loss to the world’s palest scarecrow?
*A person, clearly a nurse, walks up to Hawk and Mike grabs the poor motherfucker and tosses him haphazardly into the elevator, reaching in and pressing every floor button. The doors close with the man screaming “NO WAIT!” and Hawk turns back to the camera.*
Mike: Yes, actually. I’m fucking furious! I had his shoulders pinned to the mat for 1-2-3, the crowd chanted along, that title should be mine!
*He presses the elevator button again, this time 7 times, and waits.*
Mike: So before you guys ask why I’m fighting Audrey Russow, of all people, after 3 consecutive losses, I have 3 things to say to you. 1, only 1 of those losses was real, get your facts straight. 2, who are you? Get off my property! And 3, because I feel like I need to redeem myself after what Baron Iwantto Von Killmyself did to me! And going against Audrey, the Steven Baldwin of the Russow family, sounds like the perfect idea! Not too tough, just the perfect hardness for Mike Hawk.
*The elevator dings and Hawk walks in, greeted by a man dressed as a ghost. He thinks nothing of it, pressing the button for the 4th floor.*
Mike: So, listen, Audrey… tell me something, would you? What exactly do you… do? Like, seriously, other than losing the tag titles to Brit McAsshole and Cunt Irwin, what’s been your contribution to the world of pro wrestling?
*Mike walks out of the elevator, waving goodbye to the ghost as he walks down the hallway, knocking a nurse’s coffee out of his hand and to the ground below.*
Mike: You’ve been a former “Queen of the Ring”? Well let me tell you something, Audrey. Just like in real life, The Queen has no real power. It’s a position you hold above everyone else because you were born into the right family at the right time. Me? I worked hard. I was elected. Elected by my people! And I take the position of the President of Pro Wrestling seriously. And I know that with great power…
*He holds up his Destination: NEXT briefcase*
Mike: …Comes great responsibility. Isn’t that right, Casey?
*He shakes the briefcase to make the googly eyes spin.*
Mike: Well said.
*He hears someone calling from their room.*
Gentleman: Excuse me? Excuse me!
Mike: Oh, one second…
*He walks into the man’s room.*
Mike: What are you whining about?
Gentleman: I can’t reach my TV remote, could you pass it to me please?
*Hawk notices the remote on a nightstand, *just* out of reach for the man. Hawk picks it up and move it to a table that’s even further away, before walking out of the room.*
Gentleman: ASSHOLE!
Mike: Yeah, that’s kinda my whole thing!
*He walks down the hall towards room 412.*
Mike: Ahh, the concussion clinic. The one-stop shop for the worst wrestling injury since Laura Phoenix got that stick up her ass.
*Walking towards the room in question, Hawk continues speaking.*
Mike: So, Mrs. Russow… I think it’s safe to say you’re nothing without your husband. Without Dan, you’re about as effective as Dr. Potato, or Squidward Scissorhands, or DIRT, or whatever the hell the names of those demihumans are. Without Daniel, you might as well not even fight! …Speaking of which, let’s go visit him now, shall we?
*Mike walks into the hospital room, and sits in a chair next to the bed of the patient, whose head is wrapped in bandages.*
Mike: Hey there, Danny boy!
*He smiles.*
Mike: Let me tell you exactly what I’m going to do to your wife tonight, in the center of that ring. First, I’ll let her think she has an advantage. Toy with her a little. Fall down, take a few bumps, really play up how great the Russow name is. Then I’ll start trying. Audrey comes at me, I shut her down. Audrey gets up, comes at me again, I shut her down. Maybe I’ll show my strength with something like a powerbomb, or maybe I’ll reverse a hurricanrana into a back body drop… I’m sure you, as a man of culture, know and appreciate the words I’m saying, but Audrey won’t know what hit her… she won’t know what to do with herself as I slowly, methodically beat her into submission. And do you know why?
*Mike cracks his knuckles.*
Mike: Because I have 21 days of pent-up aggression to get out, and Audrey just so happened to get in my way. I don’t want to target her, or you, specifically, but it’s going to happen, and I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do about it.
*A nurse walks into the room holding a clipboard.*
Nurse: Alright, Mr. Robinson, let’s…
Mike: Robinson!?
*He looks at the papers at the end of the man’s bed.*
Mike: Oh, for fuck's sake!
*He walks over to the nurse.*
Mike: Excuse me, which room is Daniel Russow in?
Nurse: Russow? Oh, he checked himself out 2 days ago.
Mike: …D’oh!
*He sighs and starts dejectedly walking out of the room, but not before grabbing a pen out of a tray on the nurse’s tray table.*
Mike: I’m taking this!
Nurse: …Fine, whatever.
*Mike runs out of the room like he just got away with a heist, and starts talking to the camera again.*
Mike: Alright then… since you’re probably at home recovering rather than here, I’ll tell you this through the camera, Dan. Tonight, in front of 10,000 people, I’m gonna fuck your wife!
*Mike stops, pausing his sentence as he does.*
Mike: …That came out wrong. Up! I’m gonna fuck your wife UP! Aw, man, there’s really no recovering from that, is there?
*He shrugs.*
Mike: Oh well. The point is, tonight, your wife will be destroyed by Mike Hawk! That's right, I stayed up until 3am last night thinking that one up! ...Anyhow, by the time I’m done with you, Audrey, you’ll be left as broken and exhausted physically as your fans are mentally. And don’t even try to bring that concussion-ridden mess of a husband down to the ring with you! Casey Casem will be on full patrol.
*He holds up Casey again, he now has little angry eyebrows. Mike spins the googly eyes again.*
Mike: You said it, pal.
*He smiles and solemnly nods.*
Mike: Listen, Audrey. I didn’t want it to be you. But as you’ve seen from me winning that bet against Alfonso Banks and your creepy brother-in-law named after pants, I’m good at predicting how matches will go. And trust me when I say… tonight, The President of Pro Wrestling will assassinate the Queen of the Ring.
*He makes a gun shape with his fingers and shoots it at the camera. The cameraman falls to the ground.*
Mike: Oh Jesus fuck!
*He takes off down the hallway.*
Mike: I didn’t do it! It wasn’t me, you can’t prove it was me!
*The camera slowly but surely fades to black.*
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