Post by Emi's Imaginary Friend on Aug 12, 2012 12:28:18 GMT -5
For the first time in the entire week, Ms. Jasmine Biguns had finally learned peace. It had been a hellacious week for Ms. Biguns. Since Monday night, her older sister, Jessica Hosenstein, had moved into her apartment, and made life almost unbearable for her. Had it not been for John Fisherman's act of friendship to her, Jessica would have certainly ruined her birthday, but unfortunately there were a few more days to follow. After an argument with her husband over the phone, Jessica had to live with her sister, much to her chagrin. A controlling attitude, a lack of privacy and a lack of consideration for others living with her was far more than Jasmine could take, until finally, with inspiration from an unlikely source, she mustered the courage to stand up for herself and tell off her older sister. Jessica could not believe what she was saying, but Jasmine was relentless. She really let her have it. In the end, at last, Jessica decided to move into her own apartment in the city. Left alone at last, Ms. Biguns was now free to resume life as normal.
Her primary task, of course, was to make sure that her man was prepared for this Monday.
Speaking of her man, John Fisherman had just returned from yet another workout at his regular gym. He returned to his own apartment, took a shower, parked his butt on his leather couch and switched on the television. The London Olympics were everywhere. He'd be glad when the whole thing finally ends for another four long years!
Suddenly he felt his cellphone vibrate once again. He answered the call.
"Hi Jasmine."
"Hi John. What you up to?"
"Just come back from training. You didn't turn up. Where were you?"
"Sorry, I just thought that I'd have some time to myself, you know, since Jessica's finally gone."
"That's good. I know how much you hated her."
"Oh, you can't imagine."
"I can understand that. So what's up?"
"Have you checked out the MPW website recently?"
"Not for a while no. Nothing's really been going on."
"Both of your upcoming opponents have uploaded promos."
"Oh really? It's about damn time, I thought they weren't going to show up."
"I think they will, there's no worry about that. But I think you'd better check them out."
"Yeah? Guaranteed that Newman kid made a remark about my goatee again."
"Among other things..."
"Alright I'll check them out..."
"Oh, and one more thing...
"Yeah?"
"Where the hell did Justin see that photo!?"
"What photo...oh...oh that one."
"Yeah that one. Well!?"
"Well what? Don't blame me. It's your sister's photo!"
"Oh, that bitch! She didn't show it to him? Bitch!
"Listen Jasmine. I'll have a talk to her next time I see her. Just take a break. You deserve one. Catch up to you later, okay?"
*sigh* "Okay John. I'll see you soon."
John Fisherman hung up his cellphone and hopped onto his laptop. As suggested, he watched the promos from both of his upcoming opponents, as well as a particular interview with a certain individual who stuck his nose in John's business last Monday. Clearly the past week was just the calm before the storm. Needless to say, John felt the urge to reply to each of these individuals.
He immediately requested an MPW camera crew to join him at his apartment. The crew came as quickly as possible, along with Tasha Jordan, who for some reason was very interested in checking out John's place, probably curious to compare it with the Television champion's new digs. Regardless, the crew made their way to the apartment and knocked on the door. John opened the door and welcomed them in.
"We got your message. You wanted to conduct an interview?"
"That's right. Come in, but sorry, I'm not handing out any beverages. This is my apartment, not some bar."
"That's fine. Oh, by the way, Aidan Caine has invited the entire roster to a party after this week's show. Thought you might be interested."
"Joking of course. Why would I want to waste my time on a thing like that?"
"I'm sorry John, I just thought you'd like to join the rest of us."
"Well sorry to disappoint, but the answer has to be no."
Feeling as though she was hit with a cold shoulder, Tasha returned to check on the progress of her camera crew. They had already set up a camera facing perhaps John's prized possession, his leather couch, from the corner of the room. Tasha pulled another chair in front of the couch, where John was sat, calm and relaxed. Sitting in the chair, Tasha faced the camera.
"Okay Tasha, we're rolling."
Tasha straightened herself. The camera was zoomed in on her bust.
"Hello MPW universe, Tasha Jordan here speaking to you from the home of one of the six participants of the upcoming Roll of the Dice match at MPW's first ever pay per view High Stakes, mister John Fisherman."
The camera zoomed out, revealing the man himself, with his arms spread across his couch, with a smirk on his face, as Tasha swung herself to face him.
"First of all, thank you John for letting us into your home."
"Yeah I know. Shall we just cut to the chase?"
"Umm...okay...so why did you call us over here?"
"Well Tasha, as you very well know, a few so-called wrestlers have mentioned me in their recent promos and interviews, and I'd like to get a few things off my chest."
"You're referring to your upcoming opponents this Monday, who you will also be competing against at High Stakes."
"Yeah, I'm referring to Enigma and Kurt Newman."
"So what would you like to say to them?"
"My dear Tasha, if you let me, I was about to tell you what I want to say. So how about you shut your lips for a few seconds. Alright, first up, Enigma. As I said before, congratulations big guy, you beat a woman to qualify for the Roll of the Dice match. That was extremely rebellious of you. I know that's the sort of thing that you like, right? This Nightdyne that you and your brother go on about, it's like the Rebel Alliance, isn't it? Well listen Darth Idiot, this isn't Star Wars. This is MPW. And do you know who I am? I'm the guy that's gonna beat you not just once, but twice in two straight weeks. Oh, and you want evidence? Just ask that loser, what's his name? Jason something, I can't remember. Either way, I kicked his ass. Notice something about that last statement? I kicked HIS ass? And heck, I would have kicked your idiot brother's ass as well, if that punk Justin hadn't interfered. Either way, quite frankly, I deserve to be in this match more than you, and it's gonna bring me great pleasure to smash that mask of yours back into that giant egg that you call a head! And as for Jasmine, well, if she has a problem with you ass wipes, then why can't she speak her mind? I thought that you of all people should know about freedom a speech. And you say that you won't be distracted by her? That's fine, then there are no excuses when I beat your ass this Monday, and then again at High Stakes!"
"Umm...thanks..."
"And now we move on to Kurt Newman, a man who drags a fake title belt around with him with no other purpose than to satisfy his over-inflated ego. It's amazing how easily I can read you like a book. Of course I knew that you'd make some snide comment about my goatee, and of course I knew that you'd try to make a pitiful move on Jasmine again. Either way, it's that same cockiness that will be your downfall. I hate to burst your bubble, but Ms. Biguns will never fall for an insignificant speck like you. You know why she chose me as her client over you? Because she recognized me as the future of this business, whereas she saw you as a mere blemish on the face of this company. She sees you as an ignorant child crying for attention, a preteen obsessed with the body parts of the opposite sex. I don't even want to imagine what you do in your spare time, but I won't be surprised if you've ever used an image of my manager as, let's just call it inspiration. But you know what Kurt? A dickhead like you would never have what it takes to hook up with a woman like Ms. Biguns. In fact, the closest you'll ever come to her would have to be this Monday as she watches me annihilate the both of you in the ring this Monday. This Monday, the epitome of talent will not only stand a chance, but he will take that chance, and he will destroy the both of you, and then he'll do the same at High Stakes. And this Monday, two more unfortunate souls will watch first hand as I smash both of your skulls together. How fitting is it that they call this match a showcase, because I will show the world that John Fisherman means business. Spoiler alert: You two are no match for the king of the world!"
"Thank you John..."
"Oh, and Tasha. Where do you get off calling me disgruntled, huh? No, I haven't forgotten about that twerp Justin Fischer. Disgruntled? No. Encouraged? Yes. Encouraged to take that title away from him and save the Wrestling Television Network from some poor television. You really want to know why I invited you to my home tonight Tash? We could have had this interview anywhere, so why here? Because I thought I'd give that punk a taste of his own medicine. Yeah, it's not nice when someone copies you, isn't it Justin? It's worse when someone steals your matches and takes all the credit. You don't get it Justin? Well maybe you'll find out first hand this Monday. I won't say anymore other than you'd better watch your back, because Cable and Foster aren't the only guys you'd better watch out for. So watch your back, boy. This is far from over."
"..."
"..."
"Oh...umm...thank you John."
Tasha turned back to the camera.
"And there we are folks. John Fisherman with some serious comments for his adversaries. But can he back up his words this Monday, will he be able to do the same at High Stakes, and how will Justin Fischer respond to this war of words? Tune in to MPW Monday Night Main Event to find out!"
And with that, the camera faded out.
Her primary task, of course, was to make sure that her man was prepared for this Monday.
Speaking of her man, John Fisherman had just returned from yet another workout at his regular gym. He returned to his own apartment, took a shower, parked his butt on his leather couch and switched on the television. The London Olympics were everywhere. He'd be glad when the whole thing finally ends for another four long years!
Suddenly he felt his cellphone vibrate once again. He answered the call.
"Hi Jasmine."
"Hi John. What you up to?"
"Just come back from training. You didn't turn up. Where were you?"
"Sorry, I just thought that I'd have some time to myself, you know, since Jessica's finally gone."
"That's good. I know how much you hated her."
"Oh, you can't imagine."
"I can understand that. So what's up?"
"Have you checked out the MPW website recently?"
"Not for a while no. Nothing's really been going on."
"Both of your upcoming opponents have uploaded promos."
"Oh really? It's about damn time, I thought they weren't going to show up."
"I think they will, there's no worry about that. But I think you'd better check them out."
"Yeah? Guaranteed that Newman kid made a remark about my goatee again."
"Among other things..."
"Alright I'll check them out..."
"Oh, and one more thing...
"Yeah?"
"Where the hell did Justin see that photo!?"
"What photo...oh...oh that one."
"Yeah that one. Well!?"
"Well what? Don't blame me. It's your sister's photo!"
"Oh, that bitch! She didn't show it to him? Bitch!
"Listen Jasmine. I'll have a talk to her next time I see her. Just take a break. You deserve one. Catch up to you later, okay?"
*sigh* "Okay John. I'll see you soon."
John Fisherman hung up his cellphone and hopped onto his laptop. As suggested, he watched the promos from both of his upcoming opponents, as well as a particular interview with a certain individual who stuck his nose in John's business last Monday. Clearly the past week was just the calm before the storm. Needless to say, John felt the urge to reply to each of these individuals.
He immediately requested an MPW camera crew to join him at his apartment. The crew came as quickly as possible, along with Tasha Jordan, who for some reason was very interested in checking out John's place, probably curious to compare it with the Television champion's new digs. Regardless, the crew made their way to the apartment and knocked on the door. John opened the door and welcomed them in.
"We got your message. You wanted to conduct an interview?"
"That's right. Come in, but sorry, I'm not handing out any beverages. This is my apartment, not some bar."
"That's fine. Oh, by the way, Aidan Caine has invited the entire roster to a party after this week's show. Thought you might be interested."
"Joking of course. Why would I want to waste my time on a thing like that?"
"I'm sorry John, I just thought you'd like to join the rest of us."
"Well sorry to disappoint, but the answer has to be no."
Feeling as though she was hit with a cold shoulder, Tasha returned to check on the progress of her camera crew. They had already set up a camera facing perhaps John's prized possession, his leather couch, from the corner of the room. Tasha pulled another chair in front of the couch, where John was sat, calm and relaxed. Sitting in the chair, Tasha faced the camera.
"Okay Tasha, we're rolling."
Tasha straightened herself. The camera was zoomed in on her bust.
"Hello MPW universe, Tasha Jordan here speaking to you from the home of one of the six participants of the upcoming Roll of the Dice match at MPW's first ever pay per view High Stakes, mister John Fisherman."
The camera zoomed out, revealing the man himself, with his arms spread across his couch, with a smirk on his face, as Tasha swung herself to face him.
"First of all, thank you John for letting us into your home."
"Yeah I know. Shall we just cut to the chase?"
"Umm...okay...so why did you call us over here?"
"Well Tasha, as you very well know, a few so-called wrestlers have mentioned me in their recent promos and interviews, and I'd like to get a few things off my chest."
"You're referring to your upcoming opponents this Monday, who you will also be competing against at High Stakes."
"Yeah, I'm referring to Enigma and Kurt Newman."
"So what would you like to say to them?"
"My dear Tasha, if you let me, I was about to tell you what I want to say. So how about you shut your lips for a few seconds. Alright, first up, Enigma. As I said before, congratulations big guy, you beat a woman to qualify for the Roll of the Dice match. That was extremely rebellious of you. I know that's the sort of thing that you like, right? This Nightdyne that you and your brother go on about, it's like the Rebel Alliance, isn't it? Well listen Darth Idiot, this isn't Star Wars. This is MPW. And do you know who I am? I'm the guy that's gonna beat you not just once, but twice in two straight weeks. Oh, and you want evidence? Just ask that loser, what's his name? Jason something, I can't remember. Either way, I kicked his ass. Notice something about that last statement? I kicked HIS ass? And heck, I would have kicked your idiot brother's ass as well, if that punk Justin hadn't interfered. Either way, quite frankly, I deserve to be in this match more than you, and it's gonna bring me great pleasure to smash that mask of yours back into that giant egg that you call a head! And as for Jasmine, well, if she has a problem with you ass wipes, then why can't she speak her mind? I thought that you of all people should know about freedom a speech. And you say that you won't be distracted by her? That's fine, then there are no excuses when I beat your ass this Monday, and then again at High Stakes!"
"Umm...thanks..."
"And now we move on to Kurt Newman, a man who drags a fake title belt around with him with no other purpose than to satisfy his over-inflated ego. It's amazing how easily I can read you like a book. Of course I knew that you'd make some snide comment about my goatee, and of course I knew that you'd try to make a pitiful move on Jasmine again. Either way, it's that same cockiness that will be your downfall. I hate to burst your bubble, but Ms. Biguns will never fall for an insignificant speck like you. You know why she chose me as her client over you? Because she recognized me as the future of this business, whereas she saw you as a mere blemish on the face of this company. She sees you as an ignorant child crying for attention, a preteen obsessed with the body parts of the opposite sex. I don't even want to imagine what you do in your spare time, but I won't be surprised if you've ever used an image of my manager as, let's just call it inspiration. But you know what Kurt? A dickhead like you would never have what it takes to hook up with a woman like Ms. Biguns. In fact, the closest you'll ever come to her would have to be this Monday as she watches me annihilate the both of you in the ring this Monday. This Monday, the epitome of talent will not only stand a chance, but he will take that chance, and he will destroy the both of you, and then he'll do the same at High Stakes. And this Monday, two more unfortunate souls will watch first hand as I smash both of your skulls together. How fitting is it that they call this match a showcase, because I will show the world that John Fisherman means business. Spoiler alert: You two are no match for the king of the world!"
"Thank you John..."
"Oh, and Tasha. Where do you get off calling me disgruntled, huh? No, I haven't forgotten about that twerp Justin Fischer. Disgruntled? No. Encouraged? Yes. Encouraged to take that title away from him and save the Wrestling Television Network from some poor television. You really want to know why I invited you to my home tonight Tash? We could have had this interview anywhere, so why here? Because I thought I'd give that punk a taste of his own medicine. Yeah, it's not nice when someone copies you, isn't it Justin? It's worse when someone steals your matches and takes all the credit. You don't get it Justin? Well maybe you'll find out first hand this Monday. I won't say anymore other than you'd better watch your back, because Cable and Foster aren't the only guys you'd better watch out for. So watch your back, boy. This is far from over."
"..."
"..."
"Oh...umm...thank you John."
Tasha turned back to the camera.
"And there we are folks. John Fisherman with some serious comments for his adversaries. But can he back up his words this Monday, will he be able to do the same at High Stakes, and how will Justin Fischer respond to this war of words? Tune in to MPW Monday Night Main Event to find out!"
And with that, the camera faded out.
