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Toonopolis Fighting World > Toon Television > In Soviet Russia, RP Writes You! |
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Superhero Posts: 69 (9/22/03 7:09 pm) |
In Soviet Russia, RP Writes You! [The afternoon sun shines on the Gazelle Gazette building, as the occupants busily type up their stories and headlines. The view pans in to the desk of one John Iamntasuperhero, whose desk, comprised of a cardboard box and a plank of wood, was currently occupied by a typewriter and several sheets of paper. The headline “Cancer Patient Dies of Pneumonia” is written in large, bold letters at the top of one of these sheets.] [As John finishes typing up the last page of the story, he organizes the bunch of sheets, paper clips them, and heads toward Harvey Q. Koala’s, the editor’s, office. Harvey, who is also the founder of the Gazelle Gazette, is in fact, a gazelle, with the unfortunate luck of having the last name Koala.] [As John hands Harvey the news report, he takes a seat and waits for an approval.] [After John is given a ‘thumbs-up’ on his report, he is told that he is done for the day, and that he can go home if he wishes. John gets up, walks over to his desk, grabs his things and coffee, and proceeds to the elevator.] Harvey: Hey, John. Wait up! [John stops and turns around to see Harvey behind him.] Harvey: Listen, before you leave, come with me, I’ll introduce ya to some of the other people that work here. [Harvey leads John into and through the seventh floor halls, pretty much empty except for a small cluster of two or three people every 20 or so feet. Most people are sitting at their desks, in their cubicles, writing their stories or segments to earn their paychecks. Harvey walks up to a group, standing by the water cooler. Each person is holding a small, paper cup filled with water as they exchange small talk.] Harvey: Hey, guys. How’s it going? “Hi, Mr. Koala.” “G’Afternoon.” Harvey: John, meet the guys. [Harvey points out a woman of average height, average weight, average appearance in general. Nothing is exceptionally astounding about her, but nothing is remarkably unpleasant either. She has shoulder length hair, brown, with dark, blonde highlights. Her hazel eyes exude an air of innocence, but at the same time reveal that she is hiding something underneath her cool, calm exterior.] Harvey: This is Rwanda… Rwanda: Like the country. [She extended her hand in friendship. John took it in his, and the two shook hands.] John: I assumed so, yes. [A man approaches John at this point. He has spiky hair, black as charcoal, if that charcoal happened to be bright yellow. He has green eyes which appear almost childlike. The man is slightly shorter than John (by about two or three inches), and is kinda chubby. Or maybe he’s husky. He could just as easily be portly, generously proportioned, corpulent, plump, or rotund. Or maybe he’s just a fat-ass.] [“I’m Fred…” He says, extending his own hand towards John.] [“Don’t say something stupid, don’t say something stupid…” John’s brain subconsciously warns him.] John: Hi, fatso. [“You’re on your own.” The sound of footsteps disappearing into the distance followed by a slamming door can be heard. And then there is silence.] Fred: That’s right. Fred Fatso, at your service. [An unseen door is heard opening, and running footsteps are heard, getting closer and closer. “You are one lucky son of a bitch.” Came the voice of John’s brain.] [The last person in the group stands in the shadows, staring at John. He doesn’t come out of the shadows or say anything, but he just keeps staring. His eyes glow a dark crimson, and are his only discernable feature.] Harvey: That’s Raymond Shiftyeyes. We all call ‘im “Billy Bob”. Raymond: …And that is why one of these days, I shall go into a blind, murderous rage and pump you all full of Uzi lead. Harvey: Funny guy, Billy Bob. John: Hey, everyone. I’m the new guy. Harvey: He’s been pretty lucky with his articles so far. They’re good. Fred: That’s good. Rwanda: Congratulations. [Raymond says nothing, but merely scoffs.] John: What? Raymond: Beginner’s luck is never a match for veteran’s skill, “new guy”. [After saying this, Raymond walks away from the rest of the people. After an uncomfortable moment, John checks the large clock hanging on the wall. 3:00.] John: Whoops. Gotta go, people. It was nice meeting ya. Rwanda: Likewise. Fred: See ya around… John, was it? [John nods once, and rushes downstairs. Harvey leaves the two by the water cooler, claiming he has work to do.] Rwanda: You don’t think any of them suspect our identities, Fatman? Fred: No, Average Lady. I doubt it. Rwanda: Good. Because then our crimefighting careers would be over. [They each take a sip of water from their paper cups, crumple them up, and toss them blindly in the direction of the trash receptacle. Neither of the cups finds its mark, and they both end up on the floor. It would’ve been cool if they went in, though; Real smooth and sh*t.] [Cut to John’s apartment, twenty minutes later. John sits at his desk, in front of his glowing computer monitor. The current image appears to be a log-in window, and Johns types in a User ID and his password. After a few seconds, the main window of USSROL (USSR Online) comes onto the screen.] [A small pop-up appears that reads “Czech your mail”, while a sound bite of Yakov Smirnov plays, “In Soviet Russia, mail has you.”] [John clicks a small mailbox icon on the left side of the screen, and his e-mail window comes up. One of his new messages is the most recent TFW lineup.] John: “Superhero vs. FM Punk”? Who the hell is he, Howard Stern? [John goes to the Toonopolis site, and does a search on FM Punk. He finds some videos, and links to the first one, a clip of him having sex with a goat.] John: He’s been on SM how long and he already has a goat sex video? It took me a week to get to that status! [John presses the back button, and finds a video FM Punk’s latest segments. He checks it out, and by the end, is mortified.] John: That son of a bitch! He called me Superzero, when my fighting name is CLEARLY SuperHERO, with an H. I think he was trying to insult me! I’m suing his goat-f*cking ass for slander! No one insults Superhero! [“Everyone insults Superhero,” emanated a stereotypical Russian voice from John’s computer.] John: Great. Now I’m hallucinating a conversation with Yakov Smirnov. I’m gonna relax and watch TV. [“You do that, douchebag.” The computer said. “If you come to Soviet Russia, I f*ck you up!”] [John logs off USSROL, and plops down on the couch. He grabs the remote, which lies on the couch’s armrest. He turns the TV on to a show entitled “World’s Worst TV.”] Cheesy TV Announcer: We have gathered the stupidest, most moronic, most mind-numbingly ridiculous clips of television shows from around the world. Now, we bring them all to you in a single, one-hour television special. So, I guess it’s business as usual here at FOX. [Fade to black as a guy on the TV crashes his bike into an old lady crossing the street.] John: That old lady shoulda been watching her step. |
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