Post by Kurt Burton: Script Doctor! on Nov 8, 2006 18:23:38 GMT -5
The ancient Ford bag of bolts idled on the side of the street. The smoke poured out of the back, thicker and darker than Kyzer on an all night drinking binge. The load clatter of the engine echoed throughout the surrounding suburbs. This jalopy was definitely out of place in this classy section of St Louis. It’s odd, the classy section of St. Louis. Kat had never thought it existed. She had always thought St Louis was just a huge rundown ghetto, her view probably influenced by the film Vacation.
She sat in the clunker, the clanking getting on her nerves. It was bad enough that the car had no radio to drown out the noise. But to top this off, the heater had quit working, and this chilly night did not ease her suffering. She was wearing a rather skimpy outfit, Kurt had promised to take her to the club after he ran just one errand. She looked around to the foliage interspersed throughout the suburbs. Surrounding the car and the houses was a Crayola factory worth of different colored leaves. She loved autumn. It was so colorful. Well, at least when she had a jacket.
Suddenly, something grabbed her attention in the rearview mirror. The leather clad man was running as fast as he could to the car. Kurt had a knack for histrionics. But then she noticed a bark, and another. She glanced over at the side view mirror. There were two dogs, hot on his heels. She threw the automatic’s shifter into drive, and at that moment, Kurt threw open the door and dove in.
Kurt: Go! [/i]
She slammed down, as hard as she could on the gas pedal. The car began to creep away. The dogs were actually out running the car.
Kurt: GO! [/i]
Kat: I am going. [/i]
She looked into his eyes as his hand grabbed her shoulder.
Kurt: Go faster! [/i]
Kat: This is as fast as this piece of crap rental goes. [/i]
Slowly, it picked up speed, and began to outrace the dogs. It reached 45 mph, the fastest speed the decrepit engine could handle. Soon they were safe, just the rattle and hum of the engine in their ears. Kurt started laughing, but Kat was furious. She had had enough.
Kat: What the f*** was this all about? [/i]
Kurt looked at her, and slyly reached into his leather jacket. Tucked under his arm, he produced a metallic box.
Kat: A mailbox? [/i]
Kurt: Yep! [/i]
Kat: You stole a mailbox? [/i]
Kurt: Not just any mailbox. Ernest Brian Randall’s mailbox. [/i]
Kat: You stole EBR’s mailbox? [/i]
Kurt: Damn Skippy I did. [/i]
Kat: Why did you steal EBR’s mailbox? [/i]
The sharpness in her voice was unsettling, however, it did not faze Kurt. He simply smirks at her outburst.
Kurt: Because he stole mine. That piece of crap. Well, now he’ll know how it feels to not get any mail for three weeks. [/i]
Kat: How do you know that he did it, and not one of the other members of the Anointed? [/i]
Kurt laughs at her rationalization.
Kurt: Simple. Alex Sean was too smart to do something stupid like, steal a mailbox. He’d steal something of personal value. He'd steal my guitar or something, you know, something I use everyday that has meaning to me. And Calvin, well that guy was too stupid to do anything like this; I doubt he would even think of stealing my stuff. No, the only one who is not quite smart enough, but smarter than Calvin, is EBR. [/i]
Kat: So, you're revenging yourself against a stupid immature prank, with an equally stupid and immature prank that lacks any modicum of originality. [/i]
Kurt ponders the words she has just spoken. He mulls it over, trying to comeback with a good quip.
Kurt: Yeah. [/i]
The good quip escaped him.
Kat: I don't understand why you even have to do anything like this. You are Kurt Burton. Undefeated in one on one competition! You are the Metal Madman, the career killer. And EBR is... well, EBR. I hear he was amazing a couple of years ago. [/i]
Kurt: Exactly. He is a legend, and I am some new guy on the block. But I am the best new guy this block has ever seen. And I need a psychological advantage. I need to let him no the wrongs he has done me will not go unpunished. And stealing his mailbox is a clear sign that I will take him down. [/i]
Kat looked at the road. Quickly the bright and colored trees were replaced by the ghetto she had assumed St. Louis was. Rundown buildings, abandoned homes, and hookers peppered the landscape as she continued driving straight ahead.
Kurt: I hate EBR. With a passion. He and those other pricks in the Anointed always looked down at everyone else in the locker room. They said the WFWF needed to be fixed, when they were the problem. The two of them, relying heavily on each other, politicked their way into big matches, throwing around their weight, while guys like me got no attention. I say that now Alex Sean is gone, the WFWF is halfway fixed. The only thing left is to remove the @ssh*le known as EBR. [/i]
Kat smiled nervously; as Kurt popped open the mailbox. One of the pimps was trying to wave her down. His leopard print coat shimmered in the hue of the fluorescent street light as he approached the car. She didn't wait for him to get to the car, and slammed on the gas, blowing through the red light in front of her. Meanwhile, Kurt flipped through the large amount of mail stuck inside the box.
Kurt: EBR is a self righteous son of a bitch! I would have taught him that Kurt Burton, no, the Revolution is nothing to be messed with. I would have wiped that ridiculous dorky grin off of his face weeks ago, but Manny C you later got in the way. And he and his partner took my tag titles. And their gone now, those titles are gone. Just like the two worthless f*cks that cost me that match. EBR has no Alex, no leader, no inspiration. But the Revolution, it has grown stronger, more intense, and... [/i]
Kurt looks down at the flyer in front of him.
Kurt: Oh my God. Look at this. [/i]
He holds up the flyer. Kat glances over at it. In big bold letters it advertises "50% off all hehs."
Kat: Oh grow up Kurt. That's probably junk mail. [/i]
Kurt: Well it does say, Dear valued customer, we have not seen you in a... Oh my God, look at that anal plug! [/i]
He shoves the picture in her face. She jumps at it. And swerves around on the road for a second before straightening back out.
Kurt: But as I was saying. EBR, he don't stand a chance. At the first ever Felo de se, I will triumph over him. And the match will not be that... [/i]
Kat: Will you shut the f*** up! You have been rambling on and on and on for way too long about it. DO I think you can... no, do I know you can beat EBR, yes, because I'm your manager. I wouldn't be that if I didn't believe in you. But you keep on talking, and talking and talking. Rambling on and on and on. I can't take it anymore! [/i]
Kurt looks sadly down at the mail. He looks like the wind was just taken out of his sails. Kat looks over at him, and remorse fills her. She didn't want to hurt his feelings, she just wanted some quiet.
Kat: I'm sorry that I yelled at you. [/i]
Kurt: Huh, oh... it's not that. [/i]
She darts him a quizzical glance.
Kurt: Is EBR a PHD in astrophysics? [/i]
Kat: Don't even... [/i]
Kurt: I think I got the wrong EBR's mailbox.[/i]
Kat's rage builds inside her as she lets out a scream. She whips the steering wheel in a fast circle, and the car turns, faster than the junky rental should be pushed too. Miraculously, there is no accident, and the car speeds off at its whopping 45 mph towards the beginning.[/b]
She sat in the clunker, the clanking getting on her nerves. It was bad enough that the car had no radio to drown out the noise. But to top this off, the heater had quit working, and this chilly night did not ease her suffering. She was wearing a rather skimpy outfit, Kurt had promised to take her to the club after he ran just one errand. She looked around to the foliage interspersed throughout the suburbs. Surrounding the car and the houses was a Crayola factory worth of different colored leaves. She loved autumn. It was so colorful. Well, at least when she had a jacket.
Suddenly, something grabbed her attention in the rearview mirror. The leather clad man was running as fast as he could to the car. Kurt had a knack for histrionics. But then she noticed a bark, and another. She glanced over at the side view mirror. There were two dogs, hot on his heels. She threw the automatic’s shifter into drive, and at that moment, Kurt threw open the door and dove in.
Kurt: Go! [/i]
She slammed down, as hard as she could on the gas pedal. The car began to creep away. The dogs were actually out running the car.
Kurt: GO! [/i]
Kat: I am going. [/i]
She looked into his eyes as his hand grabbed her shoulder.
Kurt: Go faster! [/i]
Kat: This is as fast as this piece of crap rental goes. [/i]
Slowly, it picked up speed, and began to outrace the dogs. It reached 45 mph, the fastest speed the decrepit engine could handle. Soon they were safe, just the rattle and hum of the engine in their ears. Kurt started laughing, but Kat was furious. She had had enough.
Kat: What the f*** was this all about? [/i]
Kurt looked at her, and slyly reached into his leather jacket. Tucked under his arm, he produced a metallic box.
Kat: A mailbox? [/i]
Kurt: Yep! [/i]
Kat: You stole a mailbox? [/i]
Kurt: Not just any mailbox. Ernest Brian Randall’s mailbox. [/i]
Kat: You stole EBR’s mailbox? [/i]
Kurt: Damn Skippy I did. [/i]
Kat: Why did you steal EBR’s mailbox? [/i]
The sharpness in her voice was unsettling, however, it did not faze Kurt. He simply smirks at her outburst.
Kurt: Because he stole mine. That piece of crap. Well, now he’ll know how it feels to not get any mail for three weeks. [/i]
Kat: How do you know that he did it, and not one of the other members of the Anointed? [/i]
Kurt laughs at her rationalization.
Kurt: Simple. Alex Sean was too smart to do something stupid like, steal a mailbox. He’d steal something of personal value. He'd steal my guitar or something, you know, something I use everyday that has meaning to me. And Calvin, well that guy was too stupid to do anything like this; I doubt he would even think of stealing my stuff. No, the only one who is not quite smart enough, but smarter than Calvin, is EBR. [/i]
Kat: So, you're revenging yourself against a stupid immature prank, with an equally stupid and immature prank that lacks any modicum of originality. [/i]
Kurt ponders the words she has just spoken. He mulls it over, trying to comeback with a good quip.
Kurt: Yeah. [/i]
The good quip escaped him.
Kat: I don't understand why you even have to do anything like this. You are Kurt Burton. Undefeated in one on one competition! You are the Metal Madman, the career killer. And EBR is... well, EBR. I hear he was amazing a couple of years ago. [/i]
Kurt: Exactly. He is a legend, and I am some new guy on the block. But I am the best new guy this block has ever seen. And I need a psychological advantage. I need to let him no the wrongs he has done me will not go unpunished. And stealing his mailbox is a clear sign that I will take him down. [/i]
Kat looked at the road. Quickly the bright and colored trees were replaced by the ghetto she had assumed St. Louis was. Rundown buildings, abandoned homes, and hookers peppered the landscape as she continued driving straight ahead.
Kurt: I hate EBR. With a passion. He and those other pricks in the Anointed always looked down at everyone else in the locker room. They said the WFWF needed to be fixed, when they were the problem. The two of them, relying heavily on each other, politicked their way into big matches, throwing around their weight, while guys like me got no attention. I say that now Alex Sean is gone, the WFWF is halfway fixed. The only thing left is to remove the @ssh*le known as EBR. [/i]
Kat smiled nervously; as Kurt popped open the mailbox. One of the pimps was trying to wave her down. His leopard print coat shimmered in the hue of the fluorescent street light as he approached the car. She didn't wait for him to get to the car, and slammed on the gas, blowing through the red light in front of her. Meanwhile, Kurt flipped through the large amount of mail stuck inside the box.
Kurt: EBR is a self righteous son of a bitch! I would have taught him that Kurt Burton, no, the Revolution is nothing to be messed with. I would have wiped that ridiculous dorky grin off of his face weeks ago, but Manny C you later got in the way. And he and his partner took my tag titles. And their gone now, those titles are gone. Just like the two worthless f*cks that cost me that match. EBR has no Alex, no leader, no inspiration. But the Revolution, it has grown stronger, more intense, and... [/i]
Kurt looks down at the flyer in front of him.
Kurt: Oh my God. Look at this. [/i]
He holds up the flyer. Kat glances over at it. In big bold letters it advertises "50% off all hehs."
Kat: Oh grow up Kurt. That's probably junk mail. [/i]
Kurt: Well it does say, Dear valued customer, we have not seen you in a... Oh my God, look at that anal plug! [/i]
He shoves the picture in her face. She jumps at it. And swerves around on the road for a second before straightening back out.
Kurt: But as I was saying. EBR, he don't stand a chance. At the first ever Felo de se, I will triumph over him. And the match will not be that... [/i]
Kat: Will you shut the f*** up! You have been rambling on and on and on for way too long about it. DO I think you can... no, do I know you can beat EBR, yes, because I'm your manager. I wouldn't be that if I didn't believe in you. But you keep on talking, and talking and talking. Rambling on and on and on. I can't take it anymore! [/i]
Kurt looks sadly down at the mail. He looks like the wind was just taken out of his sails. Kat looks over at him, and remorse fills her. She didn't want to hurt his feelings, she just wanted some quiet.
Kat: I'm sorry that I yelled at you. [/i]
Kurt: Huh, oh... it's not that. [/i]
She darts him a quizzical glance.
Kurt: Is EBR a PHD in astrophysics? [/i]
Kat: Don't even... [/i]
Kurt: I think I got the wrong EBR's mailbox.[/i]
Kat's rage builds inside her as she lets out a scream. She whips the steering wheel in a fast circle, and the car turns, faster than the junky rental should be pushed too. Miraculously, there is no accident, and the car speeds off at its whopping 45 mph towards the beginning.[/b]
