05-15-2013, 11:40 PM
The Infamous Adventures of Scott Charlotte
The camera opens to a bar outside of Charlotte, North Carolina. The camera is situated outside the bar known as "Whiskey River." A women in a tight black dress with massive cleavage and her boyfriend in a dark grey suit open the door as a drunken man stumbles out pushing through both of them. The girl gets knocked down in the process along with the drunk. Her boyfriend responds with an angry yell and jumps on the drunk. He raises a fist, but resists as he notices the drunk is beaten and bloodied already. Both eyes are blackened, teeth are missing and blood is running from the man's ears. He utters a weak and slurred sentence.
Drunk: Stoop.....no....more....you sonuvabeach.....
He them vomits on the street and passes out. The man looks down at the drunk in complete shock as he realizes his girlfriend is still on the ground. She is nursing a large gash over her right leg as her boyfriend runs over to her. She is crying as he looks over the wound.
Man: Baby, don't worry I can take you back to my apartment and get that fixed up.
She tries to fight back tears.
Woman: Fuck you! Take me to the emergency room.
Man: I think you're being a little dramatic. It's just a cut that needs to be bandaged. Let's go to my place and...
Woman: What? So you can be my hero and then fuck me? We've only been on two dates, Todd! Take me to a hospital before this get's infected!
The door to "Whiskey River" swings open as Scott Charlotte dressed in a green suit jacket with a white collared shirt underneath with matching green pants walks out caring a mug of Guinness. His black tie is tied around his forehead. He is singing at the top of his lungs and is obviously drunk.
Scott: FUCK YOU I'M DRUNK!! FUCK YOU I'M DRUNK!! FUCK YOU I'M DRUNK! AND I'M GOING TO BE DRUNK UNTIL THE NEXT TIME I'M....
He stops as he notices the couple bickering.
Scott: HOLY SHIT! That's a wicked gash you've got on your leg, babe. You should go to the emergency room!
Woman: See! Even that alcoholic thinks I should get some better help!
Scott chuckles as he takes a swig of his Guinness.
Scott: Baby, I'm no alcoholic, I am more of a scientist trying to understand the effects of Guinness on the body at...
He looks down at his wrist for a nonexistent watch.
Scott: Time is irrelevant in science! So far my studies have proven one thing.
He pauses waiting for them to ask. They say nothing, but Scott continues as if they have.
Scott: That I am drunk off my ass!
He laughs loudly as the woman winces in pain holding her leg.
Todd: You think you could give me a hand here? My girl, Melissa, is pretty banged up and after further examination of her...uh...scratch, I've decided it's best to take her to the hospital.
Melissa shakes her head in frustration and pain. Scott looks her over and then notices her cleavage. He stares for a few moments until Todd realizes what he is doing.
Todd: HEY! You think you could keep your eyes on me buddy?
Without taking his eyes off Melissa's rack Scott responds.
Scott: Yeah, you asked me to help and that's what I'm doing because she has some killer fucking tits. I mean it's like the halls of Valhalla met with Aurora Borealis and intertwined with The Matrix giving way to those milky mamas!!!
Todd stands up and gets in Scott's line of sight. He puffs his chest up and throw's on a "tough guy" voice.
Todd: You better back away, asshole, or I'm gonna have to do what I did to that guy over there!
Todd points to the drunk still passed out in his own vomit. Scott looks back at the drunk and starts laughing. Todd and Melissa shoot a puzzled look at each other. Scott shakes his head and chugs the rest of his Guinness.
Scott: It was me!
Todd: What?
Scott: It wasn't you!
Todd: What the fuc-
Scott: That guy over there tried to take my Guinness from me then I beat the shit out of him with a table!
He proceeds to laugh hysterically. Todd is speechless at this point and backs away a bit. He turns towards Melissa.
Todd: You're right we've been on two dates and I don't see a connection. Bye!
He runs down the street past Melissa.
Melissa: GET BACK HERE YOU ASSHOLE!!
She tries to stand and chase after him, but only falls back in pain. Scott walks forward to her.
Scott: Allow me, madam.
He pulls the empty mug back and launches it in the air. Todd gets only a few more feet before the mug crashes on his head. He's down and out on the concrete pavement. He walks over the Melissa and pulls his tie off his head. Scott puts it around her cut and uses it to stop the bleeding. Scott lifts her up in his arms. She is stunned.
Scott: I think he'll be fine, it's just a scratch.
He smiles.
Scott: Now let's get you to a doctor... um...Melissa?
She nods in wonderment.
Scott: Hi, Melissa! I'm XWF Professional Wrestler Scott Charlotte.
He then begins to walk with her either finding his way to a hospital or hopefully finding a cab because that is a long ass walk.
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The camera pans out from a television screen showing the two and turns to black. The camera then zooms out to see Scott Charlotte now leaning against the TV in his dressing room. He is wearing his trademark silver pants and leather jacket along with his black boots and black finger less gloves. He is staring at the black screen and then looks at the camera in bewilderment.
Scott: Well, shit. I didn't realize there were cameras there that night. Guinness makes me violent and yet slightly romantic. It's a wonderful thing, the Irish. I hear they had lovely potatoes as well.
He shakes his head.
Scott: Anyways, I was told to come to my dressing room by Paul Heyman. He said he had a little surprise for me and to bring a cameraman with me. What's up, Chet.
He gives a thumbs up to the cameraman.
Scott: Apparently it was that video and apparently I'm shooting a promo for my match on Monday Night Madness. I'm honestly excited about this. It's been a while since I've done a promo. They tend to be my favorite of things to do in the XWF. Insert sex joke here. It really warms my heart when I get to talk about my opponents in match. I can be ruthless and tear them to shreds or I can show some respect and give them compliments. Tonight I've decided to go with the shit fest. A festival where I stand here and shit all over everyone in this match. I don't mean literally, not just yet.
He laughs.
Scott: That's a joke by the way, so don't get your maple leaves excited. Which brings me to Matt Lennox on of the three I must face in this 6 Man Tag Match. Matt has shown me one thing about himself. He's Canadian. Did you guys also know he was Canadian? Did you hear the guy was Canadian? YES! WE GET IT! You are not from America and all Americans are trash compared to you. Fuck, do I hate nationalist scum like you. They stand around and contribute nothing to the world except their "love" of their country. Why don't you go to Montreal and just fuck the ground. Maybe then your nationalism will make sense to me. I mean for god's sake you are from Canada! Saying Canada is the best is like saying The Holocaust was a good ass time. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying America is great. In fact I hate all nationalism in general. I faced a guy just like you before and his name was Xavier Reigns. He was a bitch and now he commentates matches because he is too chicken shit to step back in the ring. Canada is the home of the chicken shits. Thank you very much for your time.
He applauds and then shakes the imaginary hand of Matt Lennox.
Scott: Now I like John Austin and my other partner Jonathyn Davidson. The Johns and a Scott! I like that name! It could be a pretty rad band. Seriously, if this whole wrestler thing doesn't work out for you two I think I could squeeze in band practice along with becoming the new TV Champion.
He chuckles.
Scott: Hey, Satey, I just wanted to mention to you that I'm really looking forward to our match. I've also learned that you must defend that title on every show. So there may be a chance our match is for that title. Now how about that. God, the look on your face must be priceless. I wish I could see it. OH, WAIT!
He pulls out a photo of Mr. Satellite from behind him.
Scott: This photo represents you and my ass represents...well...my ass.
He pulls his pants down then wipes his ass with the picture. He pulls his pants up and then shows the camera the picture. It is now stained with brown...well...brown shit to be exact.
Scott: This is my shit. Remember the part where I said I was going to shit on everyone? Well, you seem to think you are everyone so this is a perfect metaphor.
He takes a pen out and signs his name on the photo.
Scott: Great! Now this can be worth something on Ebay. Then again, my shit could prob get me something too. Well that about does it for this...
The cameraman motions that Scott forgot something.
Scott: Oh! You're right! I forgot the other two guys. Ryan Ross and Danny Danger. Hmmm...what to say, what to say. I GOT IT! Alliteration! Your names are alliteration! That's perfect!
He smiles for a moment then sighs.
Scott: Guys, I'm gonna be honest I know nothing of you two. I mean yeah I get that this is for newcomers and all that jazz but you two don't seem to bring anything to the table. I have no interest in either of you. No interest in even wiping my ass with pictures of you guys. I don't even think we have pictures of you two. So Two Johns and a Scott get the upper hand against Canada Fucker and the Alliteration Boys. Seriously great band names guys.
He gives a thumbs up. He looks down at the picture of Mr. Satellite.
Scott: Here you go, Chet.
He hands Chet the Cameraman the shit stained photograph. He groans in disgust.
Scott: Now, Chet, I realize it's a bit disgusting, but I need you to hold onto to that for me. Don't worry, I can get you a different picture covered in shit. I'm not sure a shit covered photo of Satey would sell anyways. Now, Miss Ann Thraxx on the other hand...
Scott shakes his head.
Scott: Too far, Scott, too far. Well, my friends it has been great talking to you. Watch on Monday Night to see how well of a comeback this is. I want you to take note of every detail. It's the return of The Groupie Killer! Who's on the list? Let's found out on Monday, together.
And with that our shitty Hero walks off as the picture of Mr. Satellite is thrown on the ground and the camera zooms in on the photo. We fade to black.
The End.