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+--- Thread: Some Silly Bullshit (/showthread.php?tid=19441)
Some Silly Bullshit - "Lucky No. 7" Carson Waters - 04-04-2015
Yes this is going to work.
The scene opens to a wooded area. It’s midday and the sun hangs high in the sky, shining through the treetops. Carson stands on a fallen, moss covered log holding a foam sword. Over top of his shirt and taped to his pants is cardboard cut roughly into the shape of armor. A goofy-ass smile spreads across his face and he begins to chuckle as Miss Fortune steps into frame, shaking her head and with her palm pressed against her face.
Really? This seems really dumb.
It’s gonna be cool as hell, don’t even worry about it.
The log tilts slightly to the left and Carson’s arms flail before he steadies himself and lets the log roll back into place.
That was almost bad.
No, that was almost awesome.
She can’t contain herself and bursts out in laughter and gives him a thumbs up.
Know what? I take it back, this will be cool as hell but only if you actually wipeout. Otherwise it’s stupid.
Haha, real funny. Is the camera on?
It’s been on. Can you not see the little red light?
Carson’s taken aback by that sentence. His head jerks backwards and the sudden shift in weight causes him to lose his footing and fall off the log, landing back first on ground. Miss Fortune applauds as he coughs and gasps, hoping to catch his breath. Slowly, he sits up and gets back to his feet, the back of his shirt, pants, arms, and head covered with mud. He climbs up on the log again and exhales.
That’s what that light means?
Yes, you idiot.
Sorry I’m not a fucking nerd.
Can we get this show on the road, or are you gonna bitch at me some more?
Right then.
He looks down at his foam sword, and wipes some of the mud off the bottom of the handle against the cardboard on the front of his pants and clears his throat.
My name is Carson Waters. Fifteen years ago, I watched my family get butchered by a roving band of bandits. Ever since that day, I swore I’d get my revenge.
Not a nerd at all.
Shut up, audience.
Don’t break the fourth wall, actor.
Don’t tell me how to live my life! Anyway, now I’ve come to these woods for the first time in fifteen years, hoping to find the bastards who did it. Wait!
From off screen, footsteps can be heard. After a few seconds the source, a pasty scrawny ginger man wearing a bright pink boa and wielding a foam sword that’s almost identical to Carson’s.
HAHA! You think you can defeat me? Joethelo, KING OF THE BANDITS?!
“Joethelo†hops up on the log and swings his foam sword lazily at Carson, and it misses by a mile.
I look my foe in the eye and smile, for his day of reckoning has finally come. I raise my sword.
He does.
And stab this Bandit King in the heart.
He does. Or rather, as close as he can get to stabbing him in the heart with a foam sword. “Joethelo†drops his own sword and places the back of his right hand against his head.
ACK! I have been defeated!
“Joethelo†hacks and wheezes, clutching the point on his chest that Carson poked and falling off the log.
I am victorious! I’m on top of the world! But wait, now I’m sad.
Carson’s smile turns into a frown.
I don’t know if I can live with myself anymore! I must now kill myself for killing someone else!
He looks down at his sword and gulps. With one swift motion he raises it and slides it against his throat. He makes a few gurgling noises before dropping to his knees and falling forward off the log.
And scene!
What was the point of that?
Carson scoffs.
I don’t know, what was the point of Nova Sin going on a long ass tangent about how she killed a guy and tried to kill herself? Was that part of her novel or something? Or is she going on about how dark and edgy she is?
I think it was the latter.
Well then, I have to say that chills are running right down my spine! She’s just so dark and twisted, can’t you tell?
No, I can’t. Mostly because I get too hung up on the fact that she used the phrase “born in blood†more times than a fucking episode of Dexter.
The kid’s show?
Serial killer Dexter, not Laboratory Dexter.
Where does Lumberjack Dexter fit into things?
Shut up.
Allllrightie then.
So, now that made fun of one part of that thing she did, what about the other part? The one where she actually talked about you?
I’m getting there calm down. Joey, get outta here.
Joey/â€Joethelo†hops up to his feet and scrambles off. Carson takes a seat on the log and takes off the cardboard.
Pain. The question is can you tolerate it? The answer is, of course I can what kind of dumb question is that? What, do you expect someone who fights people for a living to not be able to handle pain? That’d be like someone who’s afraid of stoves becoming a cook. Or someone who hates loud noises working construction. Counter-Prostitution.
Counter productive.
Whatever. It’s still a dumb question to ask, but at least it’s not as annoying as hearing her go on and on about pain. It’s like she’s pulling out all the stops to make herself seem as edgy as possible. What’s next? Are you gonna sacrifice a ferret to your great Pagan Satan as your next trick? Maybe beat up some sorry member of the road crew just so we know how hardcore you are. Yawn, for real. You’re so dead set on making sure everyone’s scared of you that you’re referring to every trick in the book.
Carson rests the back of his hands on his lap, looking down as if he was reading a book.
Oh, it says claim to be a murderer. Check.
He licks one of his fingers and mimics turning a page.
Act like a sado-mausoleum.
Sado-masochist.
Check. All that’s left is to sulk and complain about how awful your life is while listening to twenty one pilots or something. What’s wrong, did someone steal your car radio? Is that why you’re so moody and emo? Get over it.
He closes his imaginary book and looks back up at the camera.
But hey, enough with all the cliches. Let’s get to the nitty gritty. You, me, in the ring, in the bed whichever. Oh, don’t be so coy, what’s that little motto of yours? “Hi, I’m Ava, I kill people. Wanna hook up?†Answer, probably. I’d wear a condom because I don’t want Herpes but yeah probably. Call me, unless I embarrass your overconfident ass too much and you wanna save face. Then wait a week or so and call me. I don’t give a fuck. Our mutual promiscuity aside…
You, actually got that one right. Impressed.
What the fuck are you doing? Does everything go over your head or something?
The irony here is delicious.
You can shut up. Anyway, you’re a soldier and I’m a number people barely see on a slot machine? Did anyone ever tell you about a little saying “the house always wins� See, there’s a little more to this than you think. I’m your lucky number seven. But, luck don’t matter when the game’s rigged and make no mistake about it, this game’s rigged in my favor. It’s been that way from the beginning. Doesn’t matter how tough you are, or any tricks you have up your sleeve, or the type of match we’re having. Though the latter does help me much more than you.
See, you’re right. I am a cheater. And damn proud of it. But in a match where there are no rules to break, then I can cheat however much I want openly and with no releprechauns.
Repercussions. I swear you’re doing this on purpose.
And though while all you got on my managers, my greatest weapons, are that their names are about as intimidating as ‘Nova Sin’, seriously, how the hell can you talk shit about names? Whatever. While that’s the only thing you got on them, they got this match all planned out and it starts with a reveal. You aren’t the only one with backup and those two aren’t even the half of it. So, you might wanna watch out yourself there, Nova.
It’s kinda endangering, really.
Endearing.
You think you got me all figured out, and it shows with your cockiness. Sucky seven, eh?
Sucky this dick, bitch.
Carson, being ever so classy, grabs his dick and with that our scene fades to black.