Cat's game.
Feb 16, 2007 3:35:21 GMT -5
Post by OrochiGeese on Feb 16, 2007 3:35:21 GMT -5
we fade in on the backyard of Lana - you know this because it's the same yard you saw last promo, right? anyway, some distance from the back door of the house sits Lana, swaying to and fro on a chair suspended from one of the few evergreen trees on her lot. she has a can of Dr. Pepper to her lips, and sips slowly. she appears to be quite content - as she should be, the tree she's swinging from provides a shady refuge from the heat and sun. next to her, sitting on the ground, is an old crate that currently has her cell sitting on it. apparently, she's picked this up for use as a table instead of buying an actual table.
our focus is Lana, though, and she's chipper as can be - for Lana, at least. said lady is dressed casually - pair of shorts, a pair of chucks, and a 3/4's length sleeve baseball-t. She's got on her 'work' gloves, too.
Lana sets her can down on the end tableboxthing and rises to her full height, standing with her hands on her hips, holding half a breath -
[Lana:] - ah....
...? ... after another half second, Lana releases her breath, and relaxes her pose a bit.
I have to catch my breath sometimes, Kimmy. Standing here, the fan's first glimpse of me after making you tap like a Magic geek powering up a spell, well, it's a bit of a prideful moment.
I kicked your ass from one post to the other, to the other, to the other. It was great to lock on the Six Seconds Magic and have it work as advertised. It was fun, Cross.
Anyway, you might be watching this, you just might be, so I'll say, "Cross, do you know why I have on my gloves?"
This is the part where you'd say something, but thank god you're not here, so I'll pretend you just said "No, please do tell me, cheerio!"
Lana chuckles to herself - a goofy tomboy kahuck chuckle - before clenching her hands into fists, knuckles whitening. Lana's gaze gets a little more serious, and she stares into the camera. Her head's cocked a little to the side. No, she doesn't look like you should trifle with her, is what I'm getting at. She speaks with a level, low voice.
Cross, I have on these gloves because these are the same gloves I rearranged your face with. Straight punch after straight punch - god, I went home that night, flipped on my DVR and just watched myself punch you square in the jaw and your accompanying collapse over and over. Slow-mo, in reverse, while taking a drink, it was all so much fun.
I put these gloves up on my dresser. I didn't wash them. I didn't wash them because they have your sweat on them, Kimmy. You mocked me at first - I had a bad night, and you tell me I'm not a challenge. But, those gloves don't lie - your sweat still drenches the pad. You were working your ass off to beat me that night, and you failed.
Lana's intense look lets up a little, and she smirks at the camera.
Speaking of ass... in regards to yer comments about my fat ass - honey, here in the States, a big ass is -never- a bad ass. A lil jealousy from a girl who looks like she got it confused and got round abs with a washboard ass, mayhaps?
You know, you aren't any kind of lightweight yourself - in fact, well... I'll say it like this. you have kinky manservants, but I have a lot of geeky friends, one of whom slapped together this approximation of what lifting you is like. Uh, tech guys... and, uhm...
[image noborder]http://members.cox.net/g-bomber1/yugocrazy.gif[/image]
we fade back to Lana, who looks amused by the little animation. but, the gaze ratchets back up to intense, and she continues speaking as she was.
I'm gonna wear these gloves tomorrow night, Cross, when we're in that tag match.
See, I have your sweat on these gloves. But, you piss me off.
The sweat isn't enough.
I need your goddamned blood on these gloves.
I'm going to f'ucking bust you open tomorrow. I'm going to punch your crooked limey face until it starts leaking, you hear me?
And that's just tomorrow night. I agree with you - we need a match at the PPV - we need to settle this.
It's a cat's game between us, Kim. As crosses, you got your turn first, and then I got my turn. Now, you need to make your move - but this is the part where you can't make a mistake. You can open this game anyway you want, but the second move has to be perfect - that's how it works.
But you and I can't just throw down at that PPV. We need to be rid of each other. A decisive winner.
You've insulted me long enough. In fact, I demand a stipulation be set for this match - pin fall only. We're both good at submissions, Cross, but yanno what? That isn't doing it for me.
I need complete victory over you. And, if we should have this match at the pay per view, I will bring and wear these same gloves. By that time, they'll be gross - your blood and sweat and whatnot having not been cleaned off.
These gloves, before that night is over, will be stained with your tears.
And I'll be done with you.
Lana sits back down, a defiant look on her face as we fade out-
[Lana:] And then I'll be able to wash my favorite gloves, of course.
-we resume and finish fading out.
our focus is Lana, though, and she's chipper as can be - for Lana, at least. said lady is dressed casually - pair of shorts, a pair of chucks, and a 3/4's length sleeve baseball-t. She's got on her 'work' gloves, too.
Lana sets her can down on the end tableboxthing and rises to her full height, standing with her hands on her hips, holding half a breath -
[Lana:] - ah....
...? ... after another half second, Lana releases her breath, and relaxes her pose a bit.
I have to catch my breath sometimes, Kimmy. Standing here, the fan's first glimpse of me after making you tap like a Magic geek powering up a spell, well, it's a bit of a prideful moment.
I kicked your ass from one post to the other, to the other, to the other. It was great to lock on the Six Seconds Magic and have it work as advertised. It was fun, Cross.
Anyway, you might be watching this, you just might be, so I'll say, "Cross, do you know why I have on my gloves?"
This is the part where you'd say something, but thank god you're not here, so I'll pretend you just said "No, please do tell me, cheerio!"
Lana chuckles to herself - a goofy tomboy kahuck chuckle - before clenching her hands into fists, knuckles whitening. Lana's gaze gets a little more serious, and she stares into the camera. Her head's cocked a little to the side. No, she doesn't look like you should trifle with her, is what I'm getting at. She speaks with a level, low voice.
Cross, I have on these gloves because these are the same gloves I rearranged your face with. Straight punch after straight punch - god, I went home that night, flipped on my DVR and just watched myself punch you square in the jaw and your accompanying collapse over and over. Slow-mo, in reverse, while taking a drink, it was all so much fun.
I put these gloves up on my dresser. I didn't wash them. I didn't wash them because they have your sweat on them, Kimmy. You mocked me at first - I had a bad night, and you tell me I'm not a challenge. But, those gloves don't lie - your sweat still drenches the pad. You were working your ass off to beat me that night, and you failed.
Lana's intense look lets up a little, and she smirks at the camera.
Speaking of ass... in regards to yer comments about my fat ass - honey, here in the States, a big ass is -never- a bad ass. A lil jealousy from a girl who looks like she got it confused and got round abs with a washboard ass, mayhaps?
You know, you aren't any kind of lightweight yourself - in fact, well... I'll say it like this. you have kinky manservants, but I have a lot of geeky friends, one of whom slapped together this approximation of what lifting you is like. Uh, tech guys... and, uhm...
[image noborder]http://members.cox.net/g-bomber1/yugocrazy.gif[/image]
we fade back to Lana, who looks amused by the little animation. but, the gaze ratchets back up to intense, and she continues speaking as she was.
I'm gonna wear these gloves tomorrow night, Cross, when we're in that tag match.
See, I have your sweat on these gloves. But, you piss me off.
The sweat isn't enough.
I need your goddamned blood on these gloves.
I'm going to f'ucking bust you open tomorrow. I'm going to punch your crooked limey face until it starts leaking, you hear me?
And that's just tomorrow night. I agree with you - we need a match at the PPV - we need to settle this.
It's a cat's game between us, Kim. As crosses, you got your turn first, and then I got my turn. Now, you need to make your move - but this is the part where you can't make a mistake. You can open this game anyway you want, but the second move has to be perfect - that's how it works.
But you and I can't just throw down at that PPV. We need to be rid of each other. A decisive winner.
You've insulted me long enough. In fact, I demand a stipulation be set for this match - pin fall only. We're both good at submissions, Cross, but yanno what? That isn't doing it for me.
I need complete victory over you. And, if we should have this match at the pay per view, I will bring and wear these same gloves. By that time, they'll be gross - your blood and sweat and whatnot having not been cleaned off.
These gloves, before that night is over, will be stained with your tears.
And I'll be done with you.
Lana sits back down, a defiant look on her face as we fade out-
[Lana:] And then I'll be able to wash my favorite gloves, of course.
-we resume and finish fading out.