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+--- Thread: And a Few More of Your Least Favorite Things (/showthread.php?tid=12850)
And a Few More of Your Least Favorite Things - #MemeQueen Luca Torchwick - 06-10-2014
June 10th, 2014
Yeah, it was June fuckin' tenth; if you've been paying attention instead of eating your intestines outta your asshole trying to recreate Palahniuk, you'd understand how this date is sort of a big deal. For those of you who would attempt such a feat, or are either currently attempting it while watching this promo (or to a greater extent, in the hospital because of it), this is the day right before Luca Arzegotti is to face off with Mark Flynn, one of his teammates last week! Now, Luca was preparing for such a task in the same way he chose to approach every match he's in: getting inconceivably high on camera! With the obvious pointed out right away, let's get to what's actually going on tonight.
"Run it by me again. Who am I facing?" asks Luca for the fifteenth time in the last twenty minutes. Luckily, the camerawoman has gotten marginally better at editing and the last twenty minutes of nothing have been cut. Otherwise, well you'd have to hear that question become a fucking broken record and no one wants that. Speaking of the camerawoman, she's too busy taking a swig from the bottle of Jack Daniel's she isn't old enough to be drinking legally. Oh well, fuck it. Underage drinking is the least pressing of matters when the guy on camera is apt to start a shoot out over absolutely nothing.
"The fuck was that? You wanna go? Cuz I'll fuckin' go right now!"
See?
"You fuckin' said shoot out! I just wanna talk."
"Shut the fuck up for like two seconds Luca, will ya?"
Surprisingly, Luca obliges. And for pointing out how rare of an occurrence that is, he's shooting me a death glare. Meanwhile, he's also putting up his index finger, then his middle finger--
"Done!"
"Oh, for fuck's sake."
"Hey, you said it bitch, not me!"
With a roll of the eyes, she silently scolds herself for expecting him to do anything other than follow her exact words right there. Now me, the glorious and always honest narrator? I saw that shit coming from a mile away. No bullshit either, yo.
"Okay, shut the fuck up you cunt before I really do put a bullet in your head."
Message received, boss.
"Good. Now, you were saying... ?" asks Luca as once more his eyes wander back over to the woman behind the camera. Cursing under her breath, she takes another swig of whiskey, downing the rest of the bottle in the process. While normally this would likely send Luca into a whirlwind of angry, rash thinking; right now he's way too fucking high to even realize what's going on.
"Why don't you ever remember this shit yourself?"
"Why should I? I have you for that. You think I keep you around because you're good at workin' the camera? Fat chance!"
"Oh, right. Mark Flynn."
"Flynn... Flynn... He's back?"
Luca was the most attentive of all people. Always.
"Okay. Okay you almost got me there. Good joke. Ten outta ten, would hear again."
"Do I sound like I'm fuckin' around?"
"He was your teammate not even last week!"
"Okay, time out."
Luca holds up his index finger to her, leaning over the table to snort another line of cocaine. As the drug flies up his nostril, he shakes his head and lets out an emphatic "woo". With dilated pupils, he runs his hands through his hair and stares unblinking into the camera lens.
"Oh shit! You aren't fucking with me! How much fucking sense does that make, anyway? Pitting Flynn and I against each other, I mean. Seriously, what the fuck does that accomplish? Wait, I'm actually asking that question? Holy fuck I'm way too sober for this shit. Fuck it. Let's get down to business here.
Wait, do we have enough time to hire actors for this little gag?"
"No. It's Tuesday."
"FUCK! Well, looks like I gotta think of something else. Is this match for anything important?"
"Why?"
"So I can lay my ass down in the middle of the ring and squander the opportunity for everyone else who coulda been in my shoes! C'mon, it's fuckin' Remedial Luca right there! It's what I did at the last High Stakes, y'know."
"Oh, I know."
"Obviously not, or else you wouldn't have questioned me on it!"
"Oh, fuck off with that shit."
"Where's that redhead I used to bone? Katarina or something?"
"Katrina?"
"Yeah, her!"
"I think she became Jessie Diaz or something. Fuck, I dunno. I don't get paid to keep tabs on the women you've screwed for ya. Again, time is of the essence if you any of these things to be relevant."
So, because of this the cogs in Luca's head start to turn. This isn't something he's had to do for a while, so they're definitely a little bit rusty and slow to start. That much is evidenced by the blank expression on his face as he seemingly stares off into space. He's actually drooling a little bit, funnily enough.
"Fuck off asshole, I'm thinking."
Hey, take it easy there tiger. Don't hurt yourself.
"Okay, fuck this. I'm fucking killing this motherfucker."
You don't wanna do that. If you do, who will narrate your promo for the idiots who can't see what's going on outta their own assholes? THINK OF THE CHILDREN!
"Fuck the children!"
Fuck you!
"That's it motherfucker, you're gonna die."
Oh shit, that's his serious voice.
"Before you murder him, can you do something?"
"What?"
"This is an X-Treme Submission match, the one you're in. For some reason, you need to name the weapon and hold beforehand. Specifically in your first promo."
"Why?"
"Because you have to."
"Can't I do it later?"
"No! You have to do it right meow!"
"Meow?"
"Disregard. C'mon, just do it right now. You have to."
"Fuck it. Plastic bag, Rear Naked Choke."
The scene fades to black off that, but not before you the viewer are treated to one last sound. Guess what it is. Seriously, I'll give you a million fucking dollars.
If you guessed "bang," you are right...
And the Narrator is dead.
Fuckin'
.