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| Buenos Nachos, Senorita!; See what I did there? | |
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| Topic Started: Oct 13 2012, 03:20 AM (128 Views) | |
| Eddie_Rowan | Oct 13 2012, 03:20 AM Post #1 |
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BOOSH
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It's a brisk, cloudy day in Seattle as Eddie Rowan and Spencer Pierce stand out on the pier of Pike's Place Market dressed in cargo pants and CZW brand hoodies, Eddie also rocking a hoodie with the Punisher skull patched onto it. Cool wind carries the scent of salt water to them as it gently blows past, a scent that you either love as Eddie does, or hate as Spencer appears to, judging by the look on his face. "Why do we always have to come here whenever we're in town?" "Because it's awesome." Eddie gazes out to sea, a contented smile on his face. The smile turns into pure delight as he raises his triple-scoop ice cream cone to his lips, taking a bite that would send a lesser man into a paralyzing brain-freeze. "And why do you keep eating so much junk? You're gonna get fat." "I'm not gonna get fat." "Whatever, Chubs." "Hey, maybe you should be thanking my appetite, you know? If it weren't for that food fight, we might not have gotten that title match." "I'm pretty sure they planned on it all along. Your appetite just got you into a regular food fight. Needlessly." Eddie looks off to sea with a smug look on his face. "Ah, but it was a pre-emptive strike against our foes for the title match, since I won said food fight." "Uh...no, you didn't. Newsome won that." "I've heard it both ways." Spencer shakes his head and Eddie takes another bite. The sound of cheering can be heard from behind the pair, and they turn to see the workers in the fish market doing their trademark 'fish throwing' spectacle, one man tossing a large fish a considerable distance, another man catching the fish in the butcher paper before quickly wrapping it up. "See that, Eddie? That's why we're so good." "I've never tried fish-tossing before." Spencer facepalms. "I was referring to the teamwork. They do that fish-tossing trick which, while unpleasant in the olfactory sense, shows well-practiced teamwork and precision...the same reason that the Gunslinger Saints are thus-far undefeated in CZW. Which, by the way, I can also say about my singles career. Come to think of it, you were on a bit of a losing streak until we brought the team back, weren't you?" Spencer gives Eddie a friendly nudge, causing him to dip the tip of his nose right into his ice cream cone. Not getting upset even a little, Eddie casually wipes the tip of his nose with the back of his hand. "Well, let's not forget that the first 'match' I was in was impromptu and against like seven other guys." "I counted four." "Four men, two of whom are as skilled as two. Well, three of whom are as skilled as two, and two of whom are as skilled as one and a half each. The point is, I did pretty damn good for not even being prepared to compete at all that night." "And the second match where you tapped out to Mike Monroe?" "Hey, if you want to focus on the past, let's go back a little further, shall we? Do you know what the next show is, my friend? That would be HORRORCORE. Do you remember what happened at the last Horrorcore? Let's see...oh, right. I became the WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION OF THE WORLD! That's right, and I defeated the most Halloween-esque guy on the roster at the Halloween-esque-est show of the year! Horrorcore is MY show!" Spencer shrugs and gives a bit of a nod, agreeing. "But a foregone conclusion is no reason to slack off, my friend. We need to properly prepare for this match!" --------- We have a hard cut to an overhead view of a massive plate of nachos goes sliding across the surface of a table. Immediately Eddie digs in, shoveling a heaping chip into his mouth. Spencer eyes the nacho platter hungrily, but then shakes his head as if snapping out of a trance. "Look, junk food is not good training...no matter how delicious it may look!" "You realize you just began and ended a sentence with the same word?" "What?" "Isn't there an actual term for that?" "FOCUS!" "I AM FOCUSED! Observe!" Eddie reaches down and finds a chip that is untouched by any of the bountiful nacho toppings, holding it up and showing it to his friend. “Now, let’s say that CZW is this amazing platter of nacho goodness. This chip right here represents the actual federation. Much like a chip without these toppings, it’s still great on its own, but something is still missing…” Spencer eyes his partner with a quirked brow, looking skeptical of this analogy as Eddie munches down the tortilla chip, grabbing another, this one covered in melted cheddar cheese that stretches down to the rest of the plate. “Here we’ve got what makes nachos nachos. The cheese here? That’s the fan base, the ticket holders, the eye-rolling parents who buy the merchandise for their begging children. Just as you need cheese to be considered nachos, without the fans, CZW just doesn’t work, so now we’ve got the basics covered, but you and I both know that to be AMAZING, we need to add a few things…” Eddie chomps down the chip as Spencer reclines in his seat, taking a sip from his soda, looking as if he’s actually maybe understanding this off-the-wall comparison. “So, in regards to just our match, let’s look at what we’ve got here. First, there’s the Windows. Ward and Newsome would be the onions and chives, I think…” “Why onions and chives?” Spencer helps himself to a piled chip, munching it down in one bite. “Well, given the ‘middle of the road’ stance that Windows have taken, you find that people are divided on their opinions of them. Some people like them, some people don’t. Much like the whole reason we have onions on these in the first place is because of you. I’m not really a fan. Plus, I think that giant hair that you just ate is a good representative of the Mountain Man…” Spencer’s eyes widen before he begins to cough, his mouth still full of half-chewed nacho blend. Quickly he grabs his soda, downing it as Eddie snickers at him. “Kidding, obviously, but yes, while Windows have a silly name that makes little to no sense to me no matter how many times Mike King tries to explain it, they have some valid points as well as some pointless bitching. Like their fearless leader said, they’re the moderates. Guys I can handle being around at work but would never want to hang out with on the weekends, if you get my meaning.” Eddie then scoops up a chip with all of the aforementioned toppings as well as some red peppers. “This spicy number here is Matt Covey. It packs a punch and it’s great in small doses, but just as you have to be guano loco to eat a plate of red peppers by itself, so too do you need to be a little on the insane side to survive the full-on Matt Covey experience. There are times back in the W.D.S. days where I’m surprised that we didn’t get locked up in jail for the crap this guy did. And I’m not talking white collar resort jail, Spencer. I’m talking federal ‘pound me in the ass’ prison.” “Where is my stapler?” FISTBUMP FOR THE OFFICE SPACE REFERENCE! Eddie devours his chip, washing it down with a drink from his beverage as Spencer helps himself to another piece of the tantalizingly topped tortilla (alliteration!) bounty. Eddie then reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small bag of colorful gummy bears. He proceeds to pour the bag out over the nachos as Spencer stares at him, stunned. “…please tell me you have a valid reason for doing that and you haven’t finally lost your mind as I have been fearing would happen for the last five years?” Eddie holds his hand up to quiet his friend before getting himself another heaping chip, two brightly colored gummy bears sitting atop the heap. “These are the Brian Blaze of the nacho platter… As you can see, they’re very flamboyant, slightly fruity and, much like Beebs’ association with the Uprising, they just really don’t fit in. I’m not sure what his deal is, but first, this association with Shane isn’t really helping his win-loss record, secondly, they inexplicably tore apart the most successful tag-team in recent memory in the Spectacle in order to pair Blaze and Covey for some reason…” “Well, Matt did pretty well when he teamed with Kaid at Overdrive…not to mention he’s a former tag-team champion. By himself.” “Point taken. But the fact remains, Brian Blaze has benefited negatively since aligning with Shane, and to be honest, I think he’s starting to crack. While we certainly can’t take anything away from him at this point, it’s thus-far been proven that we’ve got his goat when it comes to the numbers. Of course, we both know how little that matters in the end result, but it does give us at least a teeny tiny advantage. Given the fact that this is for the gold, I’ll take whatever advantage I can get.” Eddie chomps the down the heaping chip, freezing immediately, staring off at nothing as the full blend of flavor registers on his taste buds. “…I immediately regret this decision…” “I’m just going to pick these off…” Spencer quickly begins to remove the stray gummy bears, setting them aside as Eddie washes down the offensive nacho blend with a large gulp of soda. “Don’t ever let me do that again.” “Deal.” At this point, Eddie is clearly getting full, but he stares at the nacho platter as if it were a challenge, and he nods with narrowed eyes as if to say ‘Challenge Accepted.’ Scooping up another heaping chip, he holds it up, all of the aforementioned toppings present save the gummy bears (which will still make a fine dessert) and topped off with a dollop of sour cream and black olives. “This, my friend, is us. The sour cream and olives, being the far superior nacho augments, are the Gunslinger Saints of the nacho kingdom.” “…let me guess. I’m the olives.” “What? No, *I’m* the olives. This isn’t the 20’s, Spence. Open your mind and embrace diversity.” Spencer rolls his eyes and helps himself to the last of the chips, scooping up as many of the stray toppings as possible. After some consideration, he grabs a couple of the gummy bears and drops them on the top of it as well. “You’re going to regret that…” “It’s a morbid curiosity. I just have to know…” Eddie grins, and the two lift up their chips in a vaguely toast-like gesture. “To Horrorcore and the gold!” “Guns blazing. WHAT?” FISTBUMP! Eddie and Spencer both snarf down their respective chips, Spencer pondering to himself as the full flavor of the candy topped chip registers. “It’s not that bad, actually.” “You’re far stronger than I am.” “You know that’s right.” FISTBUMP! “BOOSH!” The duo burst out in raucous laughter and then suddenly stop, staring right at the camera, dead serious looks on their face. They don’t say anything. They just stare. It’s weird. Seriously…that’s creeping. Cut it out guys. STOP IT, I SAY!! |
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