|
Post by Spencer Adams on Jun 14, 2017 0:48:27 GMT -6
Theme: TV Title RP
For day 2, Zombie's TV Title will be on the line as both men will be judged on 1 standard (3k word limit) TV title RP.
|
|
|
Post by SEAMAC on Jun 16, 2017 14:24:59 GMT -6
~ AUDIO Z K-K-K-KAST PT 1 ~
~ All Day, Every Week ~
Hey Yo,
If’n last week wasn’t an in-dick-k-k-k-kation of whats going on now in dah U -> den I don’t know what is. I have had more title matches and defenses inside of two months than anyone else in UCI history and I have risen to the ok-k-k-kay-sion like my cawk peepin’ dat Bonnie Blue pin up. Dat she-it iz real. Fah Real. Google dat she-it.
If’n doe -> they don’t know -> to which they do -> Evil Paul Rudd ran his jibbah jabber slobberin all ovah my jiz juicing fuck stick.
“ZMAC” he cries as he suck my dick.
“ZMAC” he begs as he sucks my dick.
“Push my shit in like all of your French girls” He begs as we head into day 2 in this Hypermedia match.
What chu think dat you gone get off easy? KUMMIN IS DAH HARDEST THANG I DO MO FAWK. Ain’t no jay-brone named Paul Rudd gonna kum up in here and gank the un-gankable. You aint the man this week to take either strap from the gangly gawd with two hip pistols N’ a dagger -> walkin round Black Beard, buryin dudes up to their neck.
watch dat tide roll in.
Watch dat tide creep closer.
Smell that salt in your nostrils N’ shit.
taste that shit on your lips as it laps up your chin.
You gone meet dat Leviathan soon, son but not B4 ol’ Z meets -> greets and turns your punk azz intah minced meat.
Sell you at 2.50 a pound. Real cheap. Like ya talk.
real cheap.
like ya weak sauce game. N’ you be wonderin’ why Becca Tatch don’t ran away with a bald headed baffon from the black legaoon.
Its about dat motion of the ocean -> N you over here somewhere in Kuwait -> ain’t a drop of rain in sight.
Cept now dat ocean be creepin’ in -> N you be fucked.
She-it. Dudes be throwin’ dat Becca poon a life raft and half a door -> tryin’ to save dat poon from all the cum she done got filled with. Little paul Rudd ovah here tryin to kum up N’ be a man N’ shit. Tryin’ Tah be a man and shit and go aftah the big dog-> ya boi, ol’ Z. Be thinkin dat he can knock off ol’ Z like so many dudes done knocked off ya wife.
Truth bein’ told; I know why you here. You in awe of this coked up Greatness. You talk about murdah and evil Empires. Son go check the UCI history books -> My legacy runs deep. ZMAC runs to dah core and foundation! Makin dat bed rock up in this bitch. Forevah am I etched into hiZtory up in this bitch and that cannot be taken away.
Not by you -> not by no one.
But you done gone try. You done gone try to sink yo little child like digits into ol’ Z and rip this shit away like it was yo Mamas titay out cha daddys mouth.
Then yo daddy beat chu with a belt and took dat ass. ZMAC be speak truth up in here. Be droppin truth bombs like tanpons because in truth -> you got a Sandy Vag. Cant let no spot light fall upon anyone else and yet you wana swing at the man who created the mother fuckin’ spot light. My boi, the straight up savage -> spencer Adams -> I showed him the light. Ol’ Z showed him the way.
The only way.
Now you son -> Paul rudd wanna run up to home plate and touch down like Buzz Aldrin on the moon just cuz yo daddy bought you a nose bleed ticket? Nah son it don’t work out dat way. What will be workin out is my foot so far up your ass -> your liver will be doin Kiwi show polish commercials.
Paul Rudd -> you think your Evil but you aint the Evil Incarnate. You think you got that Hollywood trip locked up like a 7 year old in Erik Blacks basement -> BUT CHU DON’T –> FGT! You got ol’ Z up in here runnin and Gunning on dat Huffy of Death. Break neck speed. Filmin’ Dank Deadite Maddness and Sharknado 6. I’m the mother fuckin headline A numbah 1 Z-traction for Syfy. Ain’t no paul Rudd up in this bitch. They aint reachin out to your punk ass for movies to carry the UCI brand on national TV. Nah they done reached out tah ol’ Z. cuz Unlike you I’m a really real KILLAH. Sunday night -> son -> I’mma squash you like a month with a back issue of a tissue.
SPAY-LAT! GTFO wit dat shit. Go on back home to yah momma. By the time this shit airs, I’d be done with your loose azz anyway. Fuckin like 2 rotton pumkins with a fruit roll up hangin down from the middle.
don’t worry -> dat gone be your azz too this week aftah I rip you a new Axe Wound and leave you krozz Adikt’d fo thinkin’ you can mess with my belts N’ shit.
Shee-it.
Then Paul Rudd went from in ring action to sellin’ souvenir pictures of his plaster as cast on Ebay for 50 bucks to support his vike script addiction.
All cuz he thought he could come up into the U and mess with ol’ Z and what ol’ Z does bess.
LOL
FGT
~ AUDIO Z-K-K-KAST PT 2 ~
~ Another TMZ Report ~
TMZ report that Dave Chapelle has vanished to the dark continent of Africa, last seen headed towards the Congo. More as the story develops. Chapelle was last seen in the states filming his small part in the Syfy film " American Deadite Maddness" starring Bruce Campbell and Zombie McMorris.
-TMZ
~ AUDIO Z K-K-K-KAST PT 3 ~
~ Halt in Production ~ Syfy Corporate office in L.A.
Jonah Worth is in a meeting with some big wigs to discuss the disappearance if Dave Chapelle and his loose lipped sandy vag that made him storm off the Congo (allegedly). ZMAC and Ruby sit outside the office on a row of chairs, Ruby laying down across them with her head on ZMACS lap, looking up towards the Florescent lights while ZMAC softly sings “Roll the old Chariot.”
“You know, Southpaw, I never realized how much you sing those songs to yourself.” Mentions Ruby as ZMAC stares out into the blank void with a deep and unforgiving focus. “Southpaw, you ok?” ZMAC continues his tune as Ruby props herself up and shoves ZMACS chest. “Southpaw!” she barks. “Wheres your head?”
“With some damn good men.” Replies ZMAC.
“Remembering a past life?” Asks Ruby.
“Some of my favorite memories are on the sea. I would trade all the kingdoms I ruled over just to go back to the sea.”
“Whys that?”
“Same reason why I wrestle. The freedom. Roll along and have free reign on my life. No gawds. No masters. Just the sea and sky. Just like in wrestling. All you got is the road and the ring.”
“That’s rather poetic; if you think about it.”
ZMAC looks at Ruby and cracks a rare genuine smile.
“Yah. Something like that.” He replies as Ruby returns the smile and gives him a kiss on the cheek.
“It takes a special spirit to be successful in wrestling. That’s why so many fail and that’s why people like Rudd Bilson thinks he can walk N’ with some condescending bravado and match up with the worlds greatest Internet Division Champion; in this case – Hypermedia. It’s a foolish endeavor that I will make him regret with blood and gore. Rudd Bilson is about to get a taste of Ultra-violence and wish to Gawd dat he didn’t sign that contract. I’m not here to pretend or allow him to put on a good show. If’n he thinks he’s here to prove a point that he can do what I do or that he’s better than me or more sadistic than me – or whatever the case is in his spastic little brain case, he is woefully mistaken. Our match is less a match than an exhibition in the execution of smug fuccbois who dare step in the ring with the most unstable wrestler in the industry.
For years dudes been givin’ ol’ Z flak because the belts I carry and the company that I keep; much like Rudd Bilson is doing now but all that it shows is that he is jealous and insecure about those facts. He wants it because he foolishly believes that it easy. He lured himself into a false sense of security because he can go watch footage of some slampig and how that damaged my career yet my entire WCF career and my UCI career prove the exact opposite. Now, this week both my championships are on the line and clearly I can tell you with confidence that I am up in the lead by a shoulders margin to a fleas balls sack. This shit ain’t even close, Ruby. I’m going to break Rudd Bilsons legs this week for thinking that he can walk into my ring. I’m going to break his jaw this week for thinking that he can spit the rotten slaw that he be spittin’ against ya man, the Ultimate Media Champion. Not only that Ruby but I’m going to break his arms in the spirit and vein to the fact that he believes he can carry my belts with some sort of integrity and fortitude. I’m going to rip his lungs out for giving his brain the oxygen come even hatch some imprudent and incautious ideas. I’ll rip his heart out for pumping the blood that delivers all means of ill gotten psychosis inducing chemicals that he would associate with joy, love and accomplishment. Rudd Bilson will have accomplished nothing here except being a strung up victim on the road that leads to my two championships.
Getting either belt from around my THICK is not an easy or advisable task. If’n Rudd did his true and proper research he would know that but all he sees is what everyone else sees. He shes a slang that no one can comprehend or a worldview that others do not understand and he feels emboldened by such things as everyone else does. People like Shade, NSK, DK, and everyone else from the past five years feel as though they have the magic formula to get one up on ol’ Z and yet they all fail. Hell, even if they did, ol’ Z don’t roll like no how anyway.
Every week that I am here is a testament to my career and legend. I am an imposing threat to all only held back by my own whim and trust me when I tell you that this week I am unleashed, unchained and unimpeded by my own discipline. I know that with the TV Championship I am going to be constantly walking into that ring and every week some poor unfortunate soul will think that it will be them to take it from me. This week itll be Rudd Bilson with such fever thoughts but he will come to find out that a defense of this championship – or any championship for that matter does not put me on defense. Ol’ Z aint ever on defense. ZMAC is always attacking. Always pushing forward -> always throwing haymakers and beating. I’mma bout to slap Rudd with five across the eyes and ten gone fly out his mouth. Lessin’ he wants to double down and I get back hand him twice and he can get himself a new set of chompers to bite that pillow that I’mma serve him on Monday night cuz I’m about to put that Spastic fuccboi to sleep. He gone be eatin that victory steak with a blender, a straw, bedpan and a morphine drip cuz Rudd is going to be in the hospital clinging to life like a weak female lead in a bad shark movie. Make no mistake about it, there is nothing SHALLOW about this. This is pure danger and damnation if Rudd still wishes to continue his quest. Monday, his quest will come to an abrupt and swift end at the hands of the greatest Internet and media champion – Zombie McMorris.”
The suits walk out of Jonahs office nodding their head towards Ruby to say ‘ hello and goodbye’ but she stuffs that right quick by flipping them off. She might be an interstellar space cop but she’s still ZMACS girl and you got to be something fierce to roll with him. They walk off as Jonah Worth walks out soon after to greet ol’ Z.
“Z..” Stars Jonah. “For some dumb reason, the suits think that you caused Dave to run off to the congo and now they want you to find him or else you lose your sponsorship, I lose my job and UCI losses their TV deal. So now you got to go out to the Congo or wherever and bring Chapelle back.”
“Why the fuck do I got to do that; he just had some bit part. I’m the fucking star of the film. I’m the one you put all this money into.”
“True but Syfy is in the process of working out a deal with Netflix would include Daves comedy special deal and that means big money- really big money. So if you want to keep your gravy train rolling, I suggest that you get to finding him. Sources say he went towards the Congo so I’d image that be the best place to start looking. Sources also say that a film crew went missing in Canada while shooting B-roll. This whole projects a mess. I know you don’t like taking orders and not that I’m giving you one but if anyone had a hope in hell to fix this; it’ll be you.”
ZMAC takes a moment to think it over as Ruby looks at him, urging with her eyes, sending him telepathic thoughts to do it.
“Ight son. I’ll do it.” Replies ZMAC. “But if’n I’m gone do it, I want a raise. I aint doing this shit for free or on good faith.”
“I hear you, Z. I hear you. I’ll talk it over with the higher ups and get you that good pay day.”
~ AUDIO Z K-K-KAST PT 4 ~
~ The Execution of Rudd Bilson ~
If’n you had a chance, Rudd; now would be it. If’n you ever had a chance to change your mind and run away -> now would be the time. Too fuckin bad for you that there ain’t no more time left. You had the moment-> as brief as it were but now the cage has been shut and locked behind you and you’re getting lowered into that water as we speak. You are the one with everything on the line here. You need this win because I know for a fact that day one is tally strongly on my side. You need this day two but chu aint gonna get it son; not even close. You need whatever this is in your head so that you don’t have to go back to whatever pedophile summer camp came from. You need this so you don’t back to the Hollywood scene a disgrace because talked all this shit but you just couldn’t back it up. Truth be told, you can’t back up your mouth. You had the opportunity yesterday and you failed miserably. Frankly, I expected as much and you did not disappoint -> even if you are overwhelmingly disappointing regardless of your endeavors. So, this right here is the execution of the bastard and spastic mongoloid Rudd Bilson -> a name you hate so much and yet so richly deserve. It was a name earned in your stupidity and now you will pay for it in your blood. Monday night isn’t far away. It is not far off nor is the beating that I’m going to give to you for your trespassing into Honey Badger territory.
You were known for Rom-Coms, were you not? Well, there is nothing romantic or comedic about the ungodly beating that I’m going to bestow upon you because it certainly won’t be these championships I got slinged across my shoulders. On the cunt-trary -> I’m going to whip you with them like you were a back-witz dawg on a one way street. So remember Rudd Bilson, your shook N’ triggered -> goofy mother fucker -> Like Wu Tang said -> Zombie McMorris ain’t nuttin to fuck wit.
But he gone fuck you up and walk OUT Overload with both these belts around my thick and my legend continues on
CONQUER. THE. HATE
Wordcount: 2,825
|
|
|
Post by Evil Paul Rudd on Jun 16, 2017 21:38:32 GMT -6
TV Title RP- Z-Hac My Life
Evil Paul Rudd is relaxing in his lavish hotel room when his cell phone rings. FYI, his ring tone is the same song that he uses for his theme song, the Greatest Man Who Ever Lived. Paul picks it up and snaps
Rudd: Evil Empire this better be good.
Caller: Is this Paul Rudd.
Rudd: Who else would it be?
Caller: This is Steven Collins from UCI Productions. Now I know you are new to the UCI and granted television time for television title match are indeed deminished but this is unacceptable.
Rudd: What the fuck are you talking about?
Collins: The video you sent us this week..
Rudd: I know.. what the fuck is wrong with it. I know I'm new to the UCI but I am no rookie. If this is your pathetic attempt at hazing me you had best stop now before I lose what little patience I have.
Collins: The video you sent us was ten seconds.
Rudd: Bullshit it was!
Collins: We'll e mail the finished product back to you and you can see for yourself.
Rudd: Fuck off.
Rudd hangs up the phone, seems to consider tossing his expensive new iPhone across the room but holds back and gently sets it down. He goes over to the full sized oak desk and opens up his laptop opens up the file the production department sent him and..
Rudd: Motherfucker!
Paul watches the video that was sent to him. It is indeed ten seconds long, it features Shai LaBeouf clapping.. then in red lettering the words You've been Z-Hac'd LOL FGT!!!!!!!!
Rudd: STEELE! GET IN HERE!
From the onsuite next door sprints a man in a blue janitor style jumpsuit.
Rudd: I thought I told you to dress better then that while you're representing me!
Steele: Sorry sir, I thought I was off duty.
Rudd: Evil is never off duty Steele. Fix this!
Paul shows his lackey the video.
Steele: That is not the video I sent to head office sir.
Rudd: I know that! Fix it!
Steele: Sir.. I'm your personal assistant. I don't know much about computers.
Rudd: What do I pay you evil mimimum wage for then!
Steele: You don't pay me anything sir!
Rudd: I know.. I said evil mimum wage! It's an evil internship. You are learning the business of evil. This can take any form.. including right now.. you're going to locate the masterfile we shot earlier and we're going to resend it.
Steele: Alright, I'll do my best.
Steele begins working away on the computer as Paul suddenly smiles.
Rudd: I knew I was going to get inside their heads. This just proves it. Just shows how scared they are. How terrified of Evil Paul Rudd they truly are.
Steele: Who? Z-Mac? That fucking bastard.
Paul snorts.
Rudd: No, not Z-Mac. The man is as stupid as he seems. He truly believes I am no threat at all. But his supporters, men with brains, or at least more brains then him know the threat I represent. That's why they did this. In a vain, futile attempt to get inside my head. To throw me off my game. They wouldn't have done this if they were as confident as Zombie is. I wonder who it was. Buddy Roman, yeah this seems like something that would be his style. Buddy Greeek, it's even more his style. Or maybe it's just some fans of McMorris. Maybe it was his son Crow. Any of them could have done it.
Steele: So what are you going to do to them when they find out?
Rudd: The worst possible thing I can do to them. Take the two things either their meal ticket or the man they support covets most of course. His Hypermedia and his Television championships.
Steele continues working on the computer as Paul continues to speak.
Rudd: Zombie thinks his past accomplishments mean he's going to be successful forever. I ask why? Why does meaning the most annoying internet troll in the world and probably watching too much television make you a champion? Z Mac watches enterainment, and pretends to be entertainment on twitter. I.. FUCKING...AM...ENTERTAINMENT! I am television.. I am media! Is it not only natural I am going to take those championships? It's practically my birthright!
Rudd: Zombie is going to go on and ask where I was trained, if I was trained. The same old shit you tried tired old veterans say to every newcomer. It's pathetic really. Steele.. how good am I in the ring?
Steele: You're a fucking beast!
Rudd: And where did I train?
Steele: You told me not to talk about that until the time was right.
Rudd: Very good Steele. Z Mac doesn't want to admit the truth. But whoever hacked my promo on behalf of him knows. Every great wrestler ever came out of nowhere. The group Z Mac aligned with using that stupid Sea Mac name.. the Beach Krew. Did anyone hear of them before they starting dominating wrestling? Wade Moor, Jared Holmes, both world champions. Before the Beach Krew no one ever heard of them. But they came out of nowhere with a plan.. and they fucking dominated. Do they not sound like a certain icon of Hollywood? I have the money to get what I want, the resources to hire who I need to get the job done, natural athletic talent, access to metahumans and their technologies...
Paul grins broadly.
Rudd: Yes Z Mac.. you are in trouble. In fact you're fucked and those close to you know it. But you're too stupid to. I don't say you're stupid because it's a cliche. I say you're stupid for two reasons. Because it's true and because it will be your downfall. Evil Paul Rudd wants what you have and he will own it.
Steele: Why are you talking to Z Mac?
Rudd: Because I'm recording another promo of course. Evil Paul Rudd doesn't quit. Not when something he wants so badly is so close to him. Beating someone who is considered a legend is motivation. But the real motivation will be sticking it to Hollywood. Winning all of UCI's media based championships will mean I finally control the media. Finally I will get the respect I deserve. The mainstream press..
Paul spits on the ground.
Rudd: They think people like Wes Anderson are a fucking genius. They give Oscar after Oscar to that talentless cunt Maryl Strep! Soon, I will control the Hypermedia.. I will control Television.
Steele: I hate to say this. But just winning the belts aren't going to do that for you.
Paul chuckles.
Rudd: Of course not. But it is the first step of my plan. It's important to have a plan Steele. You should write that down as my evil intern and all.
Steele lets out a whoop.
Steele: I got it! I recovered part of the video. All I had to do was..
Rudd: I don't care how you did it. I only care that you did it. Good work Steele, there may be hope and a promotion for you yet.
Rudd's assistant fires up the video file and the caption.. One Month Ago Atlantic City, New Jersey
Appears on the screen. Next we see what appears to be a board room. Now since this under television title rules we shall keep the description brief. Just think of the classiest board room you have ever seen. Then add 25 percent. It's THAT nice. It has two koy ponds instead of the standard one. There is a balding man standing at the head of the table. He looks like the kind of guy who wears a pocket protector.
Rudd: God, would you fast forward though Bob's speech?
Steele: Thank god! That guy practically puts me to sleep everytime I hear him.
Rudd: I know the Evil Empire, or as the normals refer to it Paul Rudd Industries, is making a killing from our legal endevors, and a series of gangland style murders from our less then legal ones. But the way he says it.. just sucks all the joy out of the success. It's just.. so evil. I love Bob.
The assistant fast forwards until Evil Paul Rudd walks to the head of the table, surveying the most middle aged men and women in suits and dresses surrounding it.
Rudd: The Evil Empire is all about making money right?
The suits quickly agree.
Rudd: I knew that was what you guys would say. And I have made you a lot of money, correct?
Again they agree, a bit nervously though.
Rudd: But money and fame, these things are good enough for the average man. I thought just being a famous actor was good enough myself, back in the day. But then Alex Richards and the Guardians entered my life. The day Alex Richards stole that women.. Rebecca something or other. I should remember the blind chick's last name but I don't because that whore didn't actually ever matter to me. You know what did matter? The fact that ugly, bald weido would dare take her from me! It was the principle of the matter. He took something from me.. his better in every way! He had to pay for it. So I created the Evil Empire, I aligned myself with the most vile, and evil of the metahumans. The more I schemed, the more I plotted, the more innocent lives I destroyed...
The board looks horrified naturally.
Rudd: The more I profitted! The more blood I spilled the better things were for me! I never felt so fucking alive in my life. But then all good things must come to an end. By good things, I mean Alex Richards coming to a literal end. Alledgedly. For legal purposes I have to say that of course. And what happened after the destruction of the Archduke of whatever he was? The Society, a group I used to benefit my evil plans, they used me! They took credit for my evil! What is the world coming to when a group pretends to be more evil then they are! That is truly evil.
Woman: Well stock is up 396 percent since that date if it's any consolation.
Rudd: It fucking isn't! Why be evil if the world doesn't respect you for it! If the world doesn't tremble in fear over what you might do next! I mean what's the point? Really?
Paul slams the table startling the board members.
Rudd: But then it hit me! I need to go back to where I experienced my most sucess.. the UCI! Only this time it's not enough to fuck with Alex Richards, not enough to fuck with the Guardians! No, this time I need to become an active competitor myself. When I win those championships, I can teach a whole new generation, the next generation, the true power of evil.
One of the board members speak.
BM: Umm.. sir.. no offense intended but I don't know if that level of evil would help grow our brand.
BM2: I'm worried you might get hurt.
BM3: I'm worried that the company might get sued if you hurt someone else due to an illegal act.
Rudd: That worry is more legit then the others I'll give you that. So none of you think Evil Paul Rudd making the world of professional wrestling his personal bitch is a good idea.
All the board members grumble and make their protests. Except for one man. The man who is cleaning the giant glass windows overlooking the view of the casinos nearby. He says under his breathe what a bunch of idiots. Paul Rudd looks at him, give him a curt nod. Then addresses his board.
Rudd: I made you your fortunes and still you doubt me? It seems like we have serious philsophical differences here. There is only one way to handle situations like this.
BM4: Non binding mediation?
Rudd: Yes, that's totally it.
Sighs of relief.
Rudd: No you idiots! I was being sarcastic! All of you must fucking die!
Paul Rudd grabs his briefcase, unlocks it and pulls out his trusty sawed off shotgun. The executives remain at the table, looking shell shocked.
Rudd: Fuck! Are you at least going to run? Make it more challenging and fun for me. Fuck, do I have to tell you everything!
They finally start running but too late. Much much too late. Paul Rudd unloads on his board not stopping until he finally runs out of the ammo. The table is covered with blood, the walls are covered with blood, the people well I think it's obvious. He finally stops and gently pats the bald headed speaker from earlier on the head. The man moans as Paul Rudd is slapping the nail that is sticking out of the top of his head.
Rudd: That's right! I used a fucking sawed off shotgun to shoot fucking nails at all of you! You know why? Because it fucking hurts that's why! You are all lucky. You stupid, doubting sacks of shit. I made you all and you fucking dare object to my fucking masterplans! You are all lucky!
Paul surveys the damage, grinning at the lady with a nail sticking out of her chest, at the guy who is pinned aagainst the wall by a nail through the shoulder.
Rudd: I could have killed each and every last one of you. But I didn't. You know why I didn't? Because quite frankly it isn't worth wasting my time training a replacement board of directors! I actually brought two briefcases. The other one has 75 year old imported Scotch and bonus cheques for each and every last one of you. You could have had that. Paul Rudd plans for every single fucking situation. You could have had all that. You could have enjoyed my upcoming success in the world of wrestling. Instead what did you get? A bunch of new scars and hopefully a healthy respect for the power of evil! Now since none of you can possibly fill my shoes and run the Evil Empire sucessfully I have appointed a temporary CEO while I am away domininating the world of wrestling, I'm sure you've all met 8-Bit before.
8-Bit, the video game nerd, metahuman, and member of Paul Rudd's team walks into the room wearing a single glove and carrying an impressive looking model of the sword from Zelda.
8-Bit: Thanks boss. I won't let you down. And as for you bitches.. you get out of line.. I use the power glove for discipine. I love the power glove.. it's so bad.
Rudd: I knew you were the man for the job 8-Bit. Now I have a lot of scotch to drink and a lot of bonus cheques to burn before I leave you all. Hopefully forever. Except for you.
Paul motions towards the janitor who is still cleaning the windows. The only man unshot.
Rudd: You were the only one smart enough to believe in my vision.
Janitor: You're the boss.
Rudd: Yes I am. I can use a man with your blind loyalty. You finish cleaning up all this blood then you report to me. We have many preparation to make. What's your name.
Janitor: I'm..
Rudd: It doesn't matter what your name is. From now on if you're going to associate with me I'll call you.... say Jake Steele.
Steele: That is much more badass then my old name.
Rudd: I knew it would be.
The scene ends with Paul clapping his lackey on the shoulder.
Rudd: Great work Steele. Now just send it and we'll shut up that asshole in production.
Jake tries to send but the screen goes black. Cue the Shai clap and the words flash across the screen You've been Z-Hac'd AGAIN LOL FGT! Steele cringes expecting the worse, but Paul Rudd just laughs.
Rudd: It's okay... I'll handle this problem professionally. I will fucking slaughter Z Mac and let it be known that I masscred him because of this because of the man who decided to fuck with Evil Paul Rudd. This Monday I'll send a message. A message people should have already known. If you make things personal with Paul Rudd. You don't fucking survive.
Steele: What about the video?
Rudd: Fuck it.. that asshole can show the ten second clip 1000 times for all I care. Let's relax Steele. Drive me to the strip club.
Steele: I don't get it boss. You have the class, the fame, the money to get almost any women you want.
Rudd: I know that. But I go to strip slubs for the degradation of it. The fact if I pay enough money I can get any women to sink to any depths I want. Everyone has their price Steele, as a wise man once said.
Steele: Not me.
Rudd: Oh really. A thousand dollars to watch whatever I do all night.
Steele: Done.
Paul and his lackey leave the hotel room never checking the balcony. If they had they would have heard the faint chuckling outside. And a single line is uttered. Z Mac isn't the only God of the internet you know.
Fade To Black Cue the Shai Clapping.. Goddamnit
Word Count- 2879
|
|