Post by Max Rotten on Apr 7, 2023 6:19:28 GMT -5
We open to Max Rotten taping his fists up, ready for battle once again. His Outsiders World Tag Team title on a chair next to him. Gilbert is nearby with his Tag Team title around his waist and it’s still far, far too big for him.
Gilbert: I-I can’t believe that we’ve become the tag team champions, Max. This is so awesome.
Max however is not listening to his partner (surprise, surprise) and is merely concentrating on the job at hand of taping up his wrists.
Gilbert: Max…?
No answer again from the Long Lost Rotten. Suddenly in jump scare fashion Max punches a nearby heavy bag so hard that it almost comes off of its hinges and as he does so, Max lets out a primal scream of fury causing Gilbert to cover his ears.
Gilbert: Is uh…is something wrong, big guy?
Max: Wrong?! Wrong, Gilly?
Gilbert: Gilbert…
Max: No! Nothing’s wrong at all!
Max punches the heavy bag again and as it swings back into its original position, Max lets fly one more punch and the heavy bag finally actually does come away from its hinges and flies through the air, landing with a thud on the floor.
Max: So, Outsiders finally has itself a good old fashioned WAR GAMES match where the Blood and Guts are going to fly through the air with the greatest of ease and we have a cage made of MEAT?!
Gilbert: Y-yes. I believe that is the premise….? What’s the problem?
Max: Gilbert…. How is anyone going to get injured on squishy meat?!
Gilbert: I…don’t know. But let me take you on a journey, my friend.
Max: What the fuck are you talking about?
Gilbert sighs, shaking his head.
Gilbert: J-just hu-humour me, OK?
Max: Fine.
The screen fizzles out and then we open again to a huge, walk-in freezer with corpses of meat carcasses hanging from the ceiling. Gilbert is dressed in suitable cold weather gear - coat, scarf, woolly hat….mittens. (Seriously Gilly what’s wrong with actual GLOVES like an adult?!) Max however, is not. Max is dressed in his usual tank top and denim shorts. The only thing close to cold weather gear is the fact that his wrists are still taped and thus they look like gloves.
Max: Gilbert…what the fuck are we doing in a walk-in freezer?
Gilbert: I -
: Gilbert?! Is that you?!!
Suddenly a fairly heavyset, balding man enters through the meat, wearing an apron, covered in blood skulks his way through the animal corpses. Upon seeing Gilbert, the man pulls him in for a hug. A stinking, blood-soaked hug, which Gilbert does his best to pull away from, but the man is far too strong.
Gilbert: Hi, Uncle Larry. Max… this is my U-Uncle Larry. He… uh…
Max: You a butcher?
A shady smirk brushes over Larry’s face as he holds out a hand for a handshake after wiping his bloody hand on an already bloody apron. Max shakes Larry’s hand and then wipes his own hand in his shorts.
Larry: Of sorts, my lad. Of sorts.
Gilbert: Uncle Larry… he… procures meat.
Max: So….a butcher.
Larry: You ain’t told ‘im ‘’ave ya?
Gilbert shakes his head.
Gilbert: N-no. I thought I would wait until we got out of the way of prying ears.
Larry: Smart boy.
Larry nods over his shoulder and tells our Outsiders Tag Team Champions to follow him. Max and Gilbert do so, with Max wondering just what the hell is going on. At the back of the freezer, your stereotypical butcher tools adorn the walls. Knives, blades, saws….whatever you can think of, it’s on the wall. And then, in front of the trio on top of a concrete slab is a slab of meat, in the process of being cut up. Larry grabs a nearby machete and slams it into the slab of meat and Larry looks at Max.
Larry: I’m a butcher to the outside world, yeah. But that’s not all I do.
Max: No?
Larry: Nope. I ‘take care’ of things if you catch my drift.
Max lowers his voice and gently elbows Gilbert in the ribs with a smile.
Max: You sly dog! Your Uncle is in the Mafia, huh?
Gilbert: Actually all of my family is. I just don’t shout out about it, for obvious reasons.
Max nods.
Max: I get it. I get it. Gilbert, you’ve just got a LOT cooler!
Gilbert: Thank-you!
Max turns to the concrete slab and Gilbert looks smug as fuck.
Max: So, this is…
Larry: Some asshole that thought he could rob my Ma.
Gilbert: Granny…..!
Larry: Is fine, boy. She’s fine.
Gilbert: Oh thank jibblies.
Larry: What brings you boys here, anyway?
Gilbert: Well…
Larry puts down the machete and turns to his nephew.
Larry: Actually, you know what? Before you answer that, let’s get out of here. Your friend is startin’ to go blue.
Max: M-Me?! N-nah. I’m f-f-fine.
The screen then shifts to inside of Larry’s house where Max is sitting on the sofa in the lounge with a blanket over his shoulders.
Gilbert: Max has a match coming up and believe it or not Larry…Max likes to fight even more than you do.
Larry sips on a cup of coffee raising an eyebrow.
Larry: That so, boy?
Max: Oh yeah. The rush that you get at the start of a fight, it really….
Larry: Get’s the blood pumping? Makes you feel alive?
Max: Gives me something to live for. Violence is our most basic instinct, right? Without violence, nothing notable in history would have got done, would it?
Larry: Touché, kid. Well said.
Max: My match is a war games match. No rules, a match where someone like ME can really thrive.
Gilbert: A three on three cage match.
Larry: Interestin’.
Max: But… the ‘cage’ is made of meat.
Larry: Ya fuckin’ what?
Larry looks at Gilbert for confirmation. Gilbert nods. Larry stands up, and walks over to a cupboard that is locked. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a key and unlocks it. Seconds later, Larry returns carrying a butcher's knife behind his back - almost as big as a machete, but it is pristine - except for many notches in the handle.
Larry: Then you’ll be needin’ Betty.
Max: Who’s Betty?
Larry pulls the knife from behind his back, exposing Max to Betty. Max’s eyes grow wide, like he was a kid who had just received a puppy for Christmas.
Gilbert: I thought Larry might be able to help you out, ready for the match, but I didn’t think you’d get Betty!
Larry: She needs a better home.
Max turns to the camera with a smile.
Max: Vicky Stone, Ollie Rhule and Johnny Beckman, you rich fuck. I’ve got something for War Games that means that Team Fanny is going to come out on top. This match has suddenly turned into a four on three. And there’s fuck all you assholes can do about it. Fanny, Pokemon fucker… I’m starting the match….with Betty here. You wanna win? That’s great! So do I. So do us all a favour, yeah? Stay out of my way, let me do my thing…OUR THING, I mean… Ha.
===========================================
Word Count: 1200 exactly.
Gilbert: I-I can’t believe that we’ve become the tag team champions, Max. This is so awesome.
Max however is not listening to his partner (surprise, surprise) and is merely concentrating on the job at hand of taping up his wrists.
Gilbert: Max…?
No answer again from the Long Lost Rotten. Suddenly in jump scare fashion Max punches a nearby heavy bag so hard that it almost comes off of its hinges and as he does so, Max lets out a primal scream of fury causing Gilbert to cover his ears.
Gilbert: Is uh…is something wrong, big guy?
Max: Wrong?! Wrong, Gilly?
Gilbert: Gilbert…
Max: No! Nothing’s wrong at all!
Max punches the heavy bag again and as it swings back into its original position, Max lets fly one more punch and the heavy bag finally actually does come away from its hinges and flies through the air, landing with a thud on the floor.
Max: So, Outsiders finally has itself a good old fashioned WAR GAMES match where the Blood and Guts are going to fly through the air with the greatest of ease and we have a cage made of MEAT?!
Gilbert: Y-yes. I believe that is the premise….? What’s the problem?
Max: Gilbert…. How is anyone going to get injured on squishy meat?!
Gilbert: I…don’t know. But let me take you on a journey, my friend.
Max: What the fuck are you talking about?
Gilbert sighs, shaking his head.
Gilbert: J-just hu-humour me, OK?
Max: Fine.
The screen fizzles out and then we open again to a huge, walk-in freezer with corpses of meat carcasses hanging from the ceiling. Gilbert is dressed in suitable cold weather gear - coat, scarf, woolly hat….mittens. (Seriously Gilly what’s wrong with actual GLOVES like an adult?!) Max however, is not. Max is dressed in his usual tank top and denim shorts. The only thing close to cold weather gear is the fact that his wrists are still taped and thus they look like gloves.
Max: Gilbert…what the fuck are we doing in a walk-in freezer?
Gilbert: I -
: Gilbert?! Is that you?!!Suddenly a fairly heavyset, balding man enters through the meat, wearing an apron, covered in blood skulks his way through the animal corpses. Upon seeing Gilbert, the man pulls him in for a hug. A stinking, blood-soaked hug, which Gilbert does his best to pull away from, but the man is far too strong.
Gilbert: Hi, Uncle Larry. Max… this is my U-Uncle Larry. He… uh…
Max: You a butcher?
A shady smirk brushes over Larry’s face as he holds out a hand for a handshake after wiping his bloody hand on an already bloody apron. Max shakes Larry’s hand and then wipes his own hand in his shorts.
Larry: Of sorts, my lad. Of sorts.
Gilbert: Uncle Larry… he… procures meat.
Max: So….a butcher.
Larry: You ain’t told ‘im ‘’ave ya?
Gilbert shakes his head.
Gilbert: N-no. I thought I would wait until we got out of the way of prying ears.
Larry: Smart boy.
Larry nods over his shoulder and tells our Outsiders Tag Team Champions to follow him. Max and Gilbert do so, with Max wondering just what the hell is going on. At the back of the freezer, your stereotypical butcher tools adorn the walls. Knives, blades, saws….whatever you can think of, it’s on the wall. And then, in front of the trio on top of a concrete slab is a slab of meat, in the process of being cut up. Larry grabs a nearby machete and slams it into the slab of meat and Larry looks at Max.
Larry: I’m a butcher to the outside world, yeah. But that’s not all I do.
Max: No?
Larry: Nope. I ‘take care’ of things if you catch my drift.
Max lowers his voice and gently elbows Gilbert in the ribs with a smile.
Max: You sly dog! Your Uncle is in the Mafia, huh?
Gilbert: Actually all of my family is. I just don’t shout out about it, for obvious reasons.
Max nods.
Max: I get it. I get it. Gilbert, you’ve just got a LOT cooler!
Gilbert: Thank-you!
Max turns to the concrete slab and Gilbert looks smug as fuck.
Max: So, this is…
Larry: Some asshole that thought he could rob my Ma.
Gilbert: Granny…..!
Larry: Is fine, boy. She’s fine.
Gilbert: Oh thank jibblies.
Larry: What brings you boys here, anyway?
Gilbert: Well…
Larry puts down the machete and turns to his nephew.
Larry: Actually, you know what? Before you answer that, let’s get out of here. Your friend is startin’ to go blue.
Max: M-Me?! N-nah. I’m f-f-fine.
The screen then shifts to inside of Larry’s house where Max is sitting on the sofa in the lounge with a blanket over his shoulders.
Gilbert: Max has a match coming up and believe it or not Larry…Max likes to fight even more than you do.
Larry sips on a cup of coffee raising an eyebrow.
Larry: That so, boy?
Max: Oh yeah. The rush that you get at the start of a fight, it really….
Larry: Get’s the blood pumping? Makes you feel alive?
Max: Gives me something to live for. Violence is our most basic instinct, right? Without violence, nothing notable in history would have got done, would it?
Larry: Touché, kid. Well said.
Max: My match is a war games match. No rules, a match where someone like ME can really thrive.
Gilbert: A three on three cage match.
Larry: Interestin’.
Max: But… the ‘cage’ is made of meat.
Larry: Ya fuckin’ what?
Larry looks at Gilbert for confirmation. Gilbert nods. Larry stands up, and walks over to a cupboard that is locked. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a key and unlocks it. Seconds later, Larry returns carrying a butcher's knife behind his back - almost as big as a machete, but it is pristine - except for many notches in the handle.
Larry: Then you’ll be needin’ Betty.
Max: Who’s Betty?
Larry pulls the knife from behind his back, exposing Max to Betty. Max’s eyes grow wide, like he was a kid who had just received a puppy for Christmas.
Gilbert: I thought Larry might be able to help you out, ready for the match, but I didn’t think you’d get Betty!
Larry: She needs a better home.
Max turns to the camera with a smile.
Max: Vicky Stone, Ollie Rhule and Johnny Beckman, you rich fuck. I’ve got something for War Games that means that Team Fanny is going to come out on top. This match has suddenly turned into a four on three. And there’s fuck all you assholes can do about it. Fanny, Pokemon fucker… I’m starting the match….with Betty here. You wanna win? That’s great! So do I. So do us all a favour, yeah? Stay out of my way, let me do my thing…OUR THING, I mean… Ha.
===========================================
Word Count: 1200 exactly.