Post by King Incredible on Feb 1, 2014 15:25:41 GMT -5
OOC:
Hey guys, thought I'd post a quick CD RP to get things going so everyone can see how Ian is bound to act/react to things. As with all of my RPs I will always ask for feedback and I am open to constructive criticism on how to improve my RPs so you can either reply to this RP or PM if you'd rather our conversation be more private. Thanks in advance to anyone who reads!
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Scene:
Location: A Very Fancy Hotel in Michigan
Date: February 1st, 2014
Time: 7:30 am Local Time
Legend:
Ian Bishop
Prostitute
Mr. Henry Livingston
Agent X
--------------
There was a loud knock on the door. I ignored the nuisance as I looked down and saw a pretty, pretty brunette working her talent that probably couldn’t be featured on X-Factor, at least with the cameras rolling. I took a little baggie and dumped the small amount of contents left onto my right index finger and raised it up to my nostrils and did quite the snort that I coughed and exclaimed loudly.
“Can I have some baby?...”
“No! Not until you’ve done your master well…”
The brunette cocked a grin and went back to it. I grabbed a hold of a small remote and flicked off my artsy-thinking music “Siberian Khatru” by Yes and the shuffle brought on “Paradise By the Dashboard Light” by Meat Loaf.
“Fuck yes! This is a song to snort coke and have your dick su--”
At that moment a click happened and the door to my Presidential suite opened and in walked security and who appeared to be the owner of the building.
“Mr. Bishop, I am going to have to ask you to remove this woman from your genitals. I am going to have to ask you put on some clothes and leave my hotel at once.”
I looked over at the skinny boned blue eyed manager in his three piece suit. The scene didn’t look that bad to be honest. The main window in the room was shattered, guns and drugs were all over the place while the brunette didn’t miss a heartbeat and just kept sucking away like the good prostitute she was. The furniture wasn’t that badly damaged, just some rips and tears from my Rottweiler Oscar and I think he left a brown birthday present under the bed. Now I figured out what that awful smell was.
“What seems to be the problem, sir?” I said, walking away from the prostitute. “You’re making me miss out on my happy ending. Oh… wait. I get it! You think you can waltz in my hotel room, which I have paid for, and just get the girl and the drugs.”
“No, sir, that’s not it---“
“Well, I mean, I know the room doesn’t look the best so I would be happy to give you the girl. I would be happy to give you the rest of my cocaine and weed and I wouldn’t mind giving you my two Glock’s if it meant we forgot about this little fiasco. What do you say?”
The owner laughed out loud looking at his security personal like I was some crazy lunatic and motioned for them to cuff me.
“You’re a fucking crazy lunatic, Mr. Bishop, and you will never be allowed in any of my hotels again.”
I was flabbergasted.
“But… I love your hotels! Fuck! There must be a way I can convince you to let me continue my stay?”
The owner smirked.
“Well, you can’t resume the rest of your stay because of too many complaints but I will let you stay on the condition you pay for the repairs of this rooming and re-furnishing of this room.”
The baseball play-by-play of “Paradise by the Dashboard Light” began as I got pumped up.
“I knew we could reach a deal! Now, let me get my cheque book,” I said, as I ran over to the desk and grabbed my cheques, “how much are we talking… name…?”
“Oh, yes, you can have the amount paid to Mr. Henry Livingston and the amount paid will be 500,000 American Dollars.”
My mouth dropped and my eyebrows slanted as I looked at the owner with disgust.
“If I may, Mr. Livingston, you’re the FUCKING CRAZY LUNATIC. How the fuck do you think I could afford 500,000 fucking dollars, let alone in fucking American. I am Canadain for Christ sakes! That’s like 50,000 more dollars for me! Fuck you and your chain of hotels!”
I hawked a logy and took a big nice spit on Mr. Livingston, who gasped and ordered his security to throw me, my prostitute and my dog out. I was in a plaid red button shirt that was opened with a silver necklace around my neck and was in my Ellen DeGeneres boxer shirts. They didn’t even give me the time to dress like he said I would. Probably had to do with the whole spit thing. My prostitute wasn’t even wearing anything but at least they gave her a blanket. Oscar was going nuts, biting the security officer and pissing everyone. That’s a good boy!
We got the ground floor after the awkward elevator ride from the 20th floor and I was practically pushed all the way to the door and then pushed to the ground on the sidewalk. The people walking around the Michigan gasped as they saw me all full of piss, sperm, cocaine and alcohol at 7:30 in the morning. It was fucking freezing cold outside.
“Fuck you Livingston and your fucking chains! I am going to write an AWFUL review of your hotel on its Facebook page! Be prepared for the TROLLS!”
I turned around from flipping off the hotel to getting a face full of beer from the prostitute, who was clearly upset about being on the streets of Michigan at near 8:00am and it was only 32 outside.
“If you didn’t want your beer, you could’ve told me,” I yelled, “I would’ve fucking drank it.”
“I want my money for sucking your dick, snorting your coke and I want triple for this fucking disaster,” the prostitute demanded.
I looked at her with half a smile and a very scared look, “Listen doll, I’d love to pay you, I would. It just so happens I never had any money—“
I don’t think I had ever been slapped quicker in my life… or kicked in the nuts. I feel to my knees as I was proceeded to be called every name in the book and then some.
“You stupid Canadian beaver cunt!” She called me, as I looked at her in confusion, “get the fuck out of here. Just you wait I’ll get my boys after you!”
She kicked me in the nuts again and then ran off before anyone could point and laugh at her… no wait, they were pointing and laughing at me. All of a sudden a car drove up right beside me, the car door opens and some man grabs me and pulls me in and the car speeds up.
“Who the fuck are you?” I said as the person threw a towel to my way to dry up. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” the stranger said, “nothing like your agent to come and save your ass once again… good fucking job with that hotel room by the way…”
“Oh, Agent V,” I smiled, “nice to see you! So how did the federation hunt go? And do you have any extra pair of pants?”
“First off… it’s Agent X,” X said cocking his brow, “secondly, no I don’t have a pair of pants for you. Thirdly, yes, I found you a federation. They call themselves Online Championship Wrestling.”
“I told you about another fed you idiot! Something to do with Vikings…”
“They closed I’m pretty sure.”
“Well, whatever, you could’ve done better than this crap show of OCW.”
“They are not crap!” X exclaimed, shoving the contract for them in my face, “they’re an older company that was done for a bit and now they are coming back and taking baby steps.”
“Baby steps I guess, Y,” I laughed, “fuck, is this the place I heard last week was in a high school gymnasium in OHIO. Fucking OHIO. Home of… nothing! You want me to wrestle high school gymnasium’s P? I am fucking greatness, I am fucking Mr. Incredible! I wouldn’t be called “The Incredible” Ian Bishop for fucking nothing now!”
“It’s X!” X yelled, pulling me by my long scruffy hair, “and I think you’re a piece of crap who trashes hotel rooms in hopes of your agency will pay for it. And we are paying for it! So because of that, yes, you are not going to some global promotion, you’re starting at the bottom. But with that, you will become the face of the company and everyone will know your name with a rising company! Sign the contract and you can show up for this Monday’s show!”
I was hesitant… and pissed. I deserved to be on a global show, not some place with 50 people watching. I sighed though and signed the contract, knowing I can probably kick everyone’s ass in this corporation anyhow.
“If this company folds in two weeks you’re dead F,” I foamed at the mouth.
I gave him the signed contract as he began to call OCW while I grabbed a cigarette and started a smoke, thinking about how to start my OCW dominance….
Hey guys, thought I'd post a quick CD RP to get things going so everyone can see how Ian is bound to act/react to things. As with all of my RPs I will always ask for feedback and I am open to constructive criticism on how to improve my RPs so you can either reply to this RP or PM if you'd rather our conversation be more private. Thanks in advance to anyone who reads!
-------------
Scene:
Location: A Very Fancy Hotel in Michigan
Date: February 1st, 2014
Time: 7:30 am Local Time
Legend:
Ian Bishop
Prostitute
Mr. Henry Livingston
Agent X
--------------
There was a loud knock on the door. I ignored the nuisance as I looked down and saw a pretty, pretty brunette working her talent that probably couldn’t be featured on X-Factor, at least with the cameras rolling. I took a little baggie and dumped the small amount of contents left onto my right index finger and raised it up to my nostrils and did quite the snort that I coughed and exclaimed loudly.
“Can I have some baby?...”
“No! Not until you’ve done your master well…”
The brunette cocked a grin and went back to it. I grabbed a hold of a small remote and flicked off my artsy-thinking music “Siberian Khatru” by Yes and the shuffle brought on “Paradise By the Dashboard Light” by Meat Loaf.
“Fuck yes! This is a song to snort coke and have your dick su--”
At that moment a click happened and the door to my Presidential suite opened and in walked security and who appeared to be the owner of the building.
“Mr. Bishop, I am going to have to ask you to remove this woman from your genitals. I am going to have to ask you put on some clothes and leave my hotel at once.”
I looked over at the skinny boned blue eyed manager in his three piece suit. The scene didn’t look that bad to be honest. The main window in the room was shattered, guns and drugs were all over the place while the brunette didn’t miss a heartbeat and just kept sucking away like the good prostitute she was. The furniture wasn’t that badly damaged, just some rips and tears from my Rottweiler Oscar and I think he left a brown birthday present under the bed. Now I figured out what that awful smell was.
“What seems to be the problem, sir?” I said, walking away from the prostitute. “You’re making me miss out on my happy ending. Oh… wait. I get it! You think you can waltz in my hotel room, which I have paid for, and just get the girl and the drugs.”
“No, sir, that’s not it---“
“Well, I mean, I know the room doesn’t look the best so I would be happy to give you the girl. I would be happy to give you the rest of my cocaine and weed and I wouldn’t mind giving you my two Glock’s if it meant we forgot about this little fiasco. What do you say?”
The owner laughed out loud looking at his security personal like I was some crazy lunatic and motioned for them to cuff me.
“You’re a fucking crazy lunatic, Mr. Bishop, and you will never be allowed in any of my hotels again.”
I was flabbergasted.
“But… I love your hotels! Fuck! There must be a way I can convince you to let me continue my stay?”
The owner smirked.
“Well, you can’t resume the rest of your stay because of too many complaints but I will let you stay on the condition you pay for the repairs of this rooming and re-furnishing of this room.”
The baseball play-by-play of “Paradise by the Dashboard Light” began as I got pumped up.
“I knew we could reach a deal! Now, let me get my cheque book,” I said, as I ran over to the desk and grabbed my cheques, “how much are we talking… name…?”
“Oh, yes, you can have the amount paid to Mr. Henry Livingston and the amount paid will be 500,000 American Dollars.”
My mouth dropped and my eyebrows slanted as I looked at the owner with disgust.
“If I may, Mr. Livingston, you’re the FUCKING CRAZY LUNATIC. How the fuck do you think I could afford 500,000 fucking dollars, let alone in fucking American. I am Canadain for Christ sakes! That’s like 50,000 more dollars for me! Fuck you and your chain of hotels!”
I hawked a logy and took a big nice spit on Mr. Livingston, who gasped and ordered his security to throw me, my prostitute and my dog out. I was in a plaid red button shirt that was opened with a silver necklace around my neck and was in my Ellen DeGeneres boxer shirts. They didn’t even give me the time to dress like he said I would. Probably had to do with the whole spit thing. My prostitute wasn’t even wearing anything but at least they gave her a blanket. Oscar was going nuts, biting the security officer and pissing everyone. That’s a good boy!
We got the ground floor after the awkward elevator ride from the 20th floor and I was practically pushed all the way to the door and then pushed to the ground on the sidewalk. The people walking around the Michigan gasped as they saw me all full of piss, sperm, cocaine and alcohol at 7:30 in the morning. It was fucking freezing cold outside.
“Fuck you Livingston and your fucking chains! I am going to write an AWFUL review of your hotel on its Facebook page! Be prepared for the TROLLS!”
I turned around from flipping off the hotel to getting a face full of beer from the prostitute, who was clearly upset about being on the streets of Michigan at near 8:00am and it was only 32 outside.
“If you didn’t want your beer, you could’ve told me,” I yelled, “I would’ve fucking drank it.”
“I want my money for sucking your dick, snorting your coke and I want triple for this fucking disaster,” the prostitute demanded.
I looked at her with half a smile and a very scared look, “Listen doll, I’d love to pay you, I would. It just so happens I never had any money—“
I don’t think I had ever been slapped quicker in my life… or kicked in the nuts. I feel to my knees as I was proceeded to be called every name in the book and then some.
“You stupid Canadian beaver cunt!” She called me, as I looked at her in confusion, “get the fuck out of here. Just you wait I’ll get my boys after you!”
She kicked me in the nuts again and then ran off before anyone could point and laugh at her… no wait, they were pointing and laughing at me. All of a sudden a car drove up right beside me, the car door opens and some man grabs me and pulls me in and the car speeds up.
“Who the fuck are you?” I said as the person threw a towel to my way to dry up. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” the stranger said, “nothing like your agent to come and save your ass once again… good fucking job with that hotel room by the way…”
“Oh, Agent V,” I smiled, “nice to see you! So how did the federation hunt go? And do you have any extra pair of pants?”
“First off… it’s Agent X,” X said cocking his brow, “secondly, no I don’t have a pair of pants for you. Thirdly, yes, I found you a federation. They call themselves Online Championship Wrestling.”
“I told you about another fed you idiot! Something to do with Vikings…”
“They closed I’m pretty sure.”
“Well, whatever, you could’ve done better than this crap show of OCW.”
“They are not crap!” X exclaimed, shoving the contract for them in my face, “they’re an older company that was done for a bit and now they are coming back and taking baby steps.”
“Baby steps I guess, Y,” I laughed, “fuck, is this the place I heard last week was in a high school gymnasium in OHIO. Fucking OHIO. Home of… nothing! You want me to wrestle high school gymnasium’s P? I am fucking greatness, I am fucking Mr. Incredible! I wouldn’t be called “The Incredible” Ian Bishop for fucking nothing now!”
“It’s X!” X yelled, pulling me by my long scruffy hair, “and I think you’re a piece of crap who trashes hotel rooms in hopes of your agency will pay for it. And we are paying for it! So because of that, yes, you are not going to some global promotion, you’re starting at the bottom. But with that, you will become the face of the company and everyone will know your name with a rising company! Sign the contract and you can show up for this Monday’s show!”
I was hesitant… and pissed. I deserved to be on a global show, not some place with 50 people watching. I sighed though and signed the contract, knowing I can probably kick everyone’s ass in this corporation anyhow.
“If this company folds in two weeks you’re dead F,” I foamed at the mouth.
I gave him the signed contract as he began to call OCW while I grabbed a cigarette and started a smoke, thinking about how to start my OCW dominance….
