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Pirates of the Undisclosed Location; EP RP (on a boat, muthaf**ka!)
Topic Started: Jul 11 2009, 12:25 AM (115 Views)
El Pablo
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VIVA LA RAINBOWLUTION!!!

The scene opens on the deck of a luxury yacht, upon which a party appears to be in full swing. Various twenty-something men and women are in attendance, dressed in a variety of shorts, bikinis, shirts, sarongs, shades and hats. Some sit in the sunloungers lining the edges of the boat, some lean on the bar, some simply just stand around indulging in polite conversation and small-talk with a few of their compadres.

Suddenly, the attentions of the revellers are drawn to the port side, as another yacht pulls up alongside their own. The new boat is obviously a completely different model to the one hosting this introduction, but perhaps the most immediately striking difference is a 10-foot-high “mast” that has been erected towards the bow. At the very top of this mast hangs a flag, billowing in the ocean breeze. Adorned on its black material is a large white skull and crossbones. However, this is not the tedious/comedic sea-faring standard it first appears, for the traditional “crossed bones” have been replaced in this instance with the iconic logo of CZW’s Team XTC.

The inhabitants of the party boat continue to stare in perplexion, discussions occurring as to just what the f**k is going on. However, this perplexion soon turns to shock, as the as-yet unseen inhabitants of the “pirate” yacht (unseen due to a slight difference in the height of each ships’ respective hulls) begin pelting the party boat with coconuts!

Or rather, A coconut.

Wearing a blonde wig.

And an eye patch.

And “carrying” a sword.

Which detaches upon hitting the deck of the party boat, as its handler skims off and bumps into the far wall.

MALE VOICE: Avast, ye blaggards!

Attentions turn from the disarmed coconut monkey back to the boat, as a figure wearing bright pink and black boas, a mouse/cat/ferret mask and a pirate hat suddenly bursts into view, springing up onto the railing of the pirate boat and leaping across the water, landing onto the deck of the party boat. The figure rolls through, and jumps straight back to its feet, dusting itself off and adjusting its hat, before turning to the nearest group of partygoers.

MALE FIGURE: ‘Scuse me a moment.

The figure walks back over to the port side of the ship, his motions somewhat resembling those of a drunk who has temporarily lost use of his upper arms. He approaches the railing, and looks up towards the deck of the “pirate boat”, swaying slightly before calling out..

MALE FIGURE: READY!

A few seconds pass, until another figure suddenly leaps into view, landing in the arms of the male, who breaks her fall, but cannot stop it, the two crumpling to the deck with a thud. The two pick themselves up and straighten themselves out, before the male steps forward.

MALE FIGURE: Buckos.. Buccaneers.. Sea-dogs.. lend me your beers!

I.. am Captain Rat Sparrow. It is my intention.. to commandeer your alcohol.. pick up some laydeez.. and head back to our vessel for a journey to rape, pillage, plunder and otherwise pilfer our weasely black guts out.

Except the rape.

But there will be sexy-time.. oh yes.


Cpt. Sparrow winks, and gestures towards a young woman on one of the sunloungers.

CAPTAIN: You know what I’m talking about.

You, right there.

With the blue.. almost-bikini. You’d get it, spine-smashed and everything. Aargh!


Sparrow recoils, as his female companion punches him on the arm.

CAPTAIN: Forgive me, me lady.

Sparrow doffs his cap and bows towards his companion, before turning back to the revellers.

CAPTAIN: This.. is Miss Sirena Swann. A lady as beautiful as she is dangerous. I look forward to the scene where she’s forced to walk around wearing nothing but a shirt and a pirate hat.. but don’t tell Cage that.

My friend over there.. is Loki Turner. He’s here.. partly because every self-respecting pirate finds himself in the company of a coconut at one time or another.. partly because he was the closest we could get to Orlando Bloom’s incredibly wooden acting.

Now then.. Mateys.. Dogs.. Sutlers…


Sparrow moves his hand across his waist, and unsheathes a sword, pointing it across the deck at one of the groups of revellers.

CAPTAIN: ..fork over the booty. Handsomely now!

Suddenly, the door to the lower deck bursts open, as a particularly-drunken young lady staggers out onto the deck, clutching a large empty glass bottle.

WASTED GIRL: Hey guys.. we’re out of rum!

A dramatic orchestral rumble emanates from.. somewhere.. as the camera zooms in on Sparrow’s face, his eyes widening in what looks something like fear.

CAPTAIN: The.. rum is.. gone?

Swann turns to look at Sparrow, while the camera briefly cuts to Loki Turner, who appears to somehow be crying, a solitary droplet of water running down his face. Sparrow just stares blankly for a few moments, his lips quivering, as if he is trying to speak, but the words are unable to come out.

CAPTAIN: W.. w.. why is the rum gone?

Swann gives Sparrow a consolatory pat on the back, before turning to address the revellers herself.

SWANN: ..Anyone got any tequila?

The door to the lower deck bursts open once more, as a young man in a snappy Hawaiian shirt leaps onto the deck, a large bottle of tequila in his hand.

REVELLER: AYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYYYYYYY!!!



“Tequila” by Terrorvision hits the stereo, causing the revellers - Sparrow and Swann included - to burst into dance. The “dance floor” fills, and the camera pulls up and out over the boat for a few moments, before both the image and the music filter out.

The scene cuts to a small bedroom, all wood-finished walls and blue furnishings. The view from the small, circular window suggests that we are still on a boat, and the pink ears protruding from under the bedsheets suggest that we are still in the company of El Pablo, CZW’s Intercontinental Champion. Beside him lies a young woman, bearing a striking resemblance to Ashley Tisdale.

EP stirs, his still-masked face lifting off the pillow and gazing slowly around the room. He catches sight of a couple of tequila bottles on the bedside table, and groans, raising a hand and placing it to his head. He looks to the other side, and spots his companion, still in a deep slumber. He shifts into a seating position, and looks straight ahead of him, obviously still attempting to get his bearings in the cold light of the morning after. He lifts the sheets up, and takes a quick look underneath at himself, dropping the covers back down and shrugging nonchalantly. He then swings his legs round - slowly, so as to not wake his lady-friend - and stands up out of the bed. What immediately becomes obvious is that he is still wearing his boas round his waist, although they have mercifully been turned frontwards to protect his modesty (or more accurately, the viewers’ innocence). It is then that EP spies the camera, and he flashes a grin as he strides across the room towards the door.

EL PABLO: Morning.

EP exits the room and heads towards the stairs that lead up to the open deck. The scene cuts ahead to meet him, as he steps out into the sun-soaked morning air, pausing in front of the doorway and stretching his arms out to work out the last of his sleepiness. He then continues walking, making for the bow of the yacht, where Jenny Jacobs is already sunning herself on one of the sunloungers. EP steps right up to the edge of the boat, and places his hands on the railing as he surveys the calm, uninterrupted horizon. Jenny, apparently sensing his presence, turns her head, finding herself about 5 feet away from El Pablo’s exposed buttocks.

JENNY JACOBS: Oh my GOD..

EP turns round, a wry smile on his face as his eyes meet Jenny’s.

EL PABLO: Oh come on, Jenny. You’ve never seen a man with a long pink thing hanging between his legs?

Jenny laughs, although her facial expression lends an air of sarcasm to her reaction.

JENNY JACOBS: Funny..

EP pushes himself away from the railing, and walks towards the sunloungers.

EL PABLO: You always seem so surprised.

EP steps up alongside Jenny, turning to face her. Jenny’s eyes lower from EP’s head, coming to rest on his.. boas.

JENNY JACOBS: Don’t you ever take those things off?

EP smirks, and takes hold of the knot that holds the belt together. Jenny thrusts her hands up.

JENNY JACOBS: Forget it! Forget I said anything!

EP removes his hands, and sits on the sunlounger next to Jenny, swivelling round so his body lies along it parallel to hers.

JENNY JACOBS: Well.. since you’re up, you wanna give me a few words about your match this week? You and Cage, teaming up once again to take on Tim Timmons and Justin Marsham.

EL PABLO: Well, what can I say?

There is an awkward silence, as Jenny looks at EP, expecting him to provide some sort of answer to his own question.

EL PABLO: ..No, really.. what can I say? I mean.. Cage pretty much said it all already. Both of us have a long, storied history with Tim Timmons, a history coated with untold amounts of blood, sweat, and - in Tim’s case - tears.

Unfortunately, these tears have recently been more of joy and laughter than of sadness and despair. I honestly don’t know how it’s happened, but Tim seems to have gone from a man I could never lose to, to a man I just can’t seem to beat! Two times in the past month or so we’ve gone up against each other, once with me and KB against him and..

KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!!!

..and once with me, KB and Cage against him, Rob Wright and Marsham, and both times the Timmons team has managed to come out on top!

Now, I suppose I could pull a few tips from the man himself and go on about how I “almost had him”, and that he just “got lucky”.. but, you know, what ever. It happened. Tim Timmons now has two notches on the scoreboard against his arch-nemesis El Pablo. Of course, the only downer for him is, he still hasn’t managed to get his hands on one of the Grand Slam Championships, something that continues to eat away at him more and more every day. With that said, I should imagine he’ll be triply fired up this week, taking on both the Intercontinental Champion AND the World Heavyweight Champion.

This week, though.. things’ll be different. This week, Tim Timmons will NOT be victorious.

Cage and I have learned our lessons. We both know we dropped the ball three weeks ago, and we both know that a month of Tim Timmons lording it over you is enough to drive a man to go and steal the keys to his grandfather’s shotgun cabinet.

That’s not true, by the way. My grandfather didn’t have a shotgun cabinet. In my country it’s illegal to keep deadly weapons outside of.. well, the military.

But still, Timmons happy.. bad times. For everyone. Now Cage and I, we both got one hell of a pick-me-up at Summer Showdown when we got ourselves some shiny new CZW gold.. now comes phase B.. putting the world to rights.. sticking “Canada’s Finest” right back where he belongs: The “losers” column.

Now as far as Marsham goes.. well, it’s all about revenge for him, isn’t it? After all, I am the man who took his beloved Intercontinental Title, a belt he held lovingly around his waist for 2 months and 18 days.

That’s right, once again the man “not fit to lace the boots” of the current champion, challenger or general opponent SOMEHOW manages to defy the odds, come out on top, and once again show the world that if you underestimate the Five Star Superstar, you are going to wind up getting very.. very.. hurt!

I dunno.. I just don’t feel that I’ve got any more to prove now. Sure, maybe some people might think the Showdown was just a fluke.. but come on! I’m the first person in this company’s history to win the X-Title, the Tag Titles, the Intercontinental Title and the World Heavyweight Title! I’m the reigning Superstar of the Year! I’m the co-founder of the longest-running, most successful stable in CZW history! Quite honestly, if people don’t recognize my abilities now, they aren’t worth trying to impress!

The simple fact of the matter is this: Tim Timmons and Justin Marsham will be stepping into the ring with two men right at the crest of the biggest wave in one’s CZW career. The Era of HD has begun, and when Overdrive rolls around, the CZW audience will once again bear witness to a glory-basking, balance-shifting, GOLD-STUDDED..

El.. Pablo.. Experience.

And THAT, Miss Jacobs.. is a Five.. Star.. Guarantee.


With that, El Pablo places his hands behind his head and lays back, bathing in the rays of the still-awakening sun. Jenny follows suit, and the camera pulls up into the sky, the yacht shrinking smaller and smaller against the shimmering blue backdrop, until the screen fades to black.
Edited by El Pablo, Jul 11 2009, 12:26 AM.
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