Post by markflynn on Jan 26, 2023 19:24:02 GMT -5
OOC: This RP is part audio sketch, part trash talk. You should listen/watch the sketch, but I've also included a transcript for the hearing impaired, for word count purposes, and in case you're at work or a public space and don't have headphones
.
Transcript:
ACE IS THE PLACE WITH THE HELPFUL HARDWARE FOLKS!
Thanks for calling Ace Hardware’s Customer Support Line. One of our representatives will be with you shortly.
*pickup*
"Hello! This is Chandler! Ace is the Place! Who am I speaking with today?"
…
"Thanks for calling, Mark Flynn. Uh… Most people don’t give their full names but… anyway, how can I help you?"
…
"You wanted information on our staple guns? Certainly, sir. Looking to do some improvement around your home this weekend?"
…
"Oh, at the Ring Rust Cafe? Are you doing some contract work there?"
…
"Sort of?"
…
"In a manner of speaking? All right. Can I ask the approximate dimensions of the space you’re planning of stapling?"
…
"…Sorry, I think I misheard you… Did you say, Six Foot Two, 245 pounds?"
…
"No, you did say that. All right, um…"
…
"Yes, I can answer your questions…"
…
"Well, our staple guns can pierce through carpet and upholstery. And some of our heavy-duty merchandise can pierce wood!"
…
"Skin? Yes, that’s a good point. They can pierce through skin. So you want to take PROPER PRECAUTIONS and be very careful to avoid that…"
…
"Well, proper staple gun usage means always pointing it AWAY from the face and body. So, I would say the best way to avoid the staple piercing skin is NOT pointing it at your skin, haha…"
…
"What do you mean, “What’s the second best way?”"
…
"What do you MEEEAN which staple HURTS the most?"
…
"Um. Okay, uh… Hold on, hold on. Let’s zoom out. Could you give me a little detail on what this… project is?"
…
"…It’s an… entertainment thing? Oh! Like a Do-It-Yourself show on HGTV?"
…
"Professional Wrestling?
…
…What is a Three-Dollar-Staple-Gun match?
…
……
………
"Oh my God."
…
"Stop talking."
…
"St-stop! Stop talking!"
"EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING YOU JUST SAID VIOLATES FEDERAL LABOR STANDARDS AS DICTATED BY THE OCCUPATIONAL SAFETY AND HEALTH ADMINISTRATION."
"Before you do… ANYTHING… with a staple gun… Both of you should be wearing safety goggles. And work gloves. And There should be WARNING TAPE surrounding the premises! An-..."
…
"NO, RING ROPES ARE NOT A KIND OF WARNING TAPE!"
…
MOREOVER! WHILE you are operating a staple gun, you should NEVER point a staple gun ANYWHERE NEAR ANYONE. So, the idea of two people competitively firing staple guns AT EACH OTHER, IT… VIOLATES SO MANY WORKPLACE REGULATIONS!
….
"…Oh. Okay, you’re not just firing staples AT each other.
Phew, okay, I’m sorry. For a second there, I thought…"
…
You’re stapling DOLLAR BILLS TO EACH OTHER!?!?!
…
And WHERE are the dollar bills coming from? From a bank? A bank that would properly sanitize each bill?
…
"YOU’RE GOING TO TAKE THEM FROM A LIVE AUDIENCE?"
"IN A RESTAURANT AT A HOTEL SLASH GENTLEMEN’S CLUB?"
"IN LAS VEGAS?"
"DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW CAKED IN VENEREAL DISEASES THOSE DOLLAR BILLS ARE?!?"
…
"…No, I!"
…
"You know what I’d LOVE, I WOULD LOVE… to put you on with a manager."
"YEAH. HOLD, PLEASE."
"HOWARD…"
HOWARD…
...
He’s a madman, Howard. He’s a Gee-Dee lunatic. He says he’s gonna staple DOLLAR BILLS to a co-worker, which is a violation of OSHA standards. So, Good Luck. GOOD LUCK, that’s what I have to say!
…Deep inhale.
“Dis Howard. Ace is the Place. What it do?”
…
“Yeah-huh.”
…
“Yeah-huh.”
…
“Sure. I bin there before.”
…
“Aight. Dis whatcha do. Yer gonna buy the Craftsman Pushfire 9/16 inch Heavy Duty Stapler.”
…
“Naw, sir. I don’t work on commission, so you know I ain’ tryin’ a upsell you. But, it got dis dang ‘on PushFire technology. Just about no kickback on the fire, total control in your hand."
"Now, I imagin’ your… uh… opponent? He’s gonna get some that’s pure bite, but it’s gonna zip in his hand like a goddamn Mississippi mos-keeter. But, you want controooooool. Three nails loaded, three nails right in his back. Git ‘er done, tell you what?"
…
"Or the face, sir, if that is your chosen staple target."
…
"Right, how’re YOU gonna dodge the staples? Yep, yep, yep. Lissen, so yer gonna wanna lather yourself in a thin layer of butter before your contest."
…
"Well, sir, a fired staple launches through the air about 300 feet per second. About a-tenth as fast as a bullet, sure, but still, you won’t have much time to side-step or dodge, if ya catch my drift. But a staple don’t take onto certain surfaces. They’re designed for carpet and upholstery… The heavier-duty will pierce wood…"
…
"Oh he did mention that?"
…
"…Right, but if you take a little time and butter yourself up… There’s a chance… Yessir, A chance, that that daggon staple’s gonna bounce off. Especially if you’re on the outside of its firing radius, about fifteen feet from the guy firing atcha?"
…
"If you’re at Point-blank range?"
…
"I reckon 20 percent chance. It’s still a high-power staple firing device, sir. Still gotta a good chance to pierce skin…
And the dollar bill, of course."
…
"I understand, I understand. I tell you what, though, 20 percent chance of NOT getting stapled? S’better than nothing when it comes to taking a staple to yer ass-cheeks at near-point blank range."
…
"Yessir, yessir. And if it’s three different, unique dollars? The chances of all three of those staples sticking becomes, like… uh… 80% to the third power which is…"
…
"…Ah, yes, 51.2%, thank ya kindly, sir. So you gotta about the odds of a coin flip that your opponent is gonna need to hit you FOUR times to get three to stick. Dem’s not bad odds, I reckon."
…
"Mmm-hmm."
…
"Liss'n, Don’t ask me the science behind it, sir. But, Land o’ Lakes butter does the best job at body-lathering to avoid taking a staple."
…
"Yessir, I use the stuff myself."
…
"Oh, sometimes me and my brother get in staple gun fights. Haha...
…
"Other times, I just fire the thing into mah own arm."
…
"Yessir, Reminds me I can still feel."
…
"Yep. Yep, yep, yep."
…
"All right. Anything else?"
…
"Absolutely. You have a great day now, sir."
…
“WHAT I TELL YOU ABOUT INTERRUPTING ME WHILE I’S WATCHING YOUNG SHELDON?!?”
*Ace Jingle*
***
Exterior. Ace Hardware Parking Lot.
At the lot’s far end, where fewer cars are parked…
A sandbag sits in the trunk-bed of a pick-up truck.
Stapled to the bag’s front is a glossy promotional headshot…
Of Buster Gloves.
“Gotta hand it to you, Buster…"
THWAK!
Suddenly, right between ‘Buster’’s eyes… A staple is deeeeeeply buried. Flecks of sand skitter…
“You have a good head on your shoulders… Heheheh.”
About ten feet away, Mark Flynn pops open the magazine on the Craftsmen Pushfire 9/16th inch Heavy Duty Stapler (Available at all Ace Hardware locations!)
In a flash, his left-hand reaches into his pocket, slipping out a staples clip. Smooth as silk, he slips the clip into the magazine.
He lifts it… He closes his left eye, aiming with his right.
CLP!
ZIP!
This staple straight to the throat!
“This gimmick match seems like a clever gambit…”
“The world knows I’m OBSESSIVE when it comes to match prep. My home supercomputer has 200 petabyte storage, filled to FUCKING CAPACITY… With virtually every recorded wrestling match.”
“Madison Square Garden in front of a sold-out crowd? Or a high-school gym with fifteen in the bleachers on a camcorder with shaky hands?”
“Either way, I watched it. Noted innovations to implement… And weaknesses to exploit.”
“Buuuuut.” Flynn grins, winking. “Buster, your sick, little mind INVENTED the Three-Dollar-Staple-Gun match…”
Flynn holsters the staple gun to his hip.
He spins around… Giving his back to his sandbaggy foe…
…
Flynn squares up like an old west gunslinger…
…
His finger twitches.
The camera pans over his face…
Then, the Buster headshot… lightly leaking sand…
“DRAW!”
Flynn spins! Firing from the hip!
THWIP!
A staple right to the heart! The sandbag’s burlap splits in half! The paper-face tears in two!
“HAHA!” Flynn blows on the staple gun’s business end. He spins the staple gun around his trigger finger, before holstering it.
Flynn beams, as he walks to the truck’s rear.
He whips out from a shopping bag…
A tub of Land o’ Lakes Butter…
Flynn pops off of the tub’s cap, as he side-eyes the camera. “I won’t lie, Glovesy. I’m SOMEWHAT impressed…”
He digs his fingers into the butter, getting a healthy dollop in his hands.
“Invent a match type! Flynn doesn’t have any matches to study!”
“Great plan. Almost clever.”
“Almost.”
…Flynn pulls his OPTIMAL PATH™ shirt over his head.
“Here’s the problem, though, Gloveroo. You… SKIMMED my stat line.”
“I’m not *JUST* the most studious, dedicated, OBSESSIVE-COMPULSIVE GENIUS… In wrestling today.”
…Flynn starts applying the butter onto his shoulers like sunscreen.
“I’m also the most adaptive.”
“The WGWF network servers went offline before CCPE vs The World. And Las Vegas betting sites almost fucking shut down with how many gambling addicts dumped their life savings onto long-shot John Cable.”
“How can Mark Flynn fight if he can’t do his ol’ stats routine? His Sabermetrics song-and-dance?”
“How will MARK FLYNN fight a match he can’t RESEARCH?”
“...And I did EVEN BETTER.”
“I FUCKING EMBARRASSED JOHN CABLE.”
…Flynn giggles confidently, as he takes a finger-ful of butter and rubs on the bridge of his nose.
“Via methodical, COMPLETE DIS-SEC-TION. I PUNCTURED Cable’s defenses like razor wire to a throat.”
“Because I’m not JUST the most dedicated student of the game.”
“I am not JUST THE SMARTEST ATHLETE ALIVE.”
“I am.”
“THE.”
“GREATEST.”
“WRESTLER.”
“IN THE WORLD.”
“Since Day One.”
…RIP! Flynn tears off his pants. He bends down, rubbing butter directly onto his thighs.
“And here’s how I know you’re not ready for me, Gloverboy.”
Flynn glimpses up into the camera.
“I checked your little hit-list.”
“Your HERO’S QUEST.”
“That roadmap given to you by James FUCKING Raven…”
…
“You know what I noticed, though, Glovesy?”
“My name… is at the BOTTOM of the list.”
“UNDER Holden Ross.”
“UNDER Xavier Lux.”
“UNDER FRED FUCKING DEBONAIR.”
“MARK.”
“FUCKING.”
“FLYNN.”
“Is at the BOTTOM of your list.”
…
“You put the only man to go undefeated across FOUR CROSSOVER EVENT APPEARANCES in this industry.”
“Your road-map router, James Raven? He LOST at CCPE versus The World.”
“Raion Kido? 50/50 record at crossover shows.”
“Hell, even Vaughnie? The top of your list? Your final boss? He lost his first two crossover shows AND got a no contest on number three.”
“Only me.”
“ONLY MARK FLYNN.”
“Is DOMINANT ENOUGH. To win in any company, any city, any state, any country, any continent, any goddamned cruise ship Tara Fenix can rent, any GODDAMNED PLANET IN THE STRATOSPHERE. PUT ME ON A ROCKET WITH OXYGEN, I’ll break your goddamned arm off in SPACE… Where no one can hear you scream.”
…Flynn’s smile glimmers in the sun… As does his white, buttery flesh… He lightly simmers.
[NOTE: DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME, KIDS]
“The fact that I’m at the BOTTOM of your list says all I need to know about your head.”
“You’re underestimating me.”
“Just like Kido underestimated me, with his Uni title on the line.”
“Just like Vaughnie underestimated me in his first XWF match against a non-gorilla. (And yes, I consider Drew Archyle a primate).”
“Just like Tristan Slater. The undefeated 22-0 superstar. Underestimated me ten LOOOOOONG years ago.”
“Buster, when I compete against a man who doesn’t know how dangerous I am?”
“I SLICE through them.”
“Like a hot knife…” Flynn giggles. “…Through butter.”
Behind Flynn, a high-schooler in an Ace Hardware vest walks by, pushing a half-dozen shopping carts.
Flynn sees him and calls over his shoulder.
“KID!” He holds up what little remains of the butter. “CAN YOU GET MY BACK?”
…
The kid runs back into the store.
Fin
![:)](http://storage.proboards.com/forum/images/smiley/smiley.png)
Transcript:
ACE IS THE PLACE WITH THE HELPFUL HARDWARE FOLKS!
Thanks for calling Ace Hardware’s Customer Support Line. One of our representatives will be with you shortly.
*pickup*
"Hello! This is Chandler! Ace is the Place! Who am I speaking with today?"
…
"Thanks for calling, Mark Flynn. Uh… Most people don’t give their full names but… anyway, how can I help you?"
…
"You wanted information on our staple guns? Certainly, sir. Looking to do some improvement around your home this weekend?"
…
"Oh, at the Ring Rust Cafe? Are you doing some contract work there?"
…
"Sort of?"
…
"In a manner of speaking? All right. Can I ask the approximate dimensions of the space you’re planning of stapling?"
…
"…Sorry, I think I misheard you… Did you say, Six Foot Two, 245 pounds?"
…
"No, you did say that. All right, um…"
…
"Yes, I can answer your questions…"
…
"Well, our staple guns can pierce through carpet and upholstery. And some of our heavy-duty merchandise can pierce wood!"
…
"Skin? Yes, that’s a good point. They can pierce through skin. So you want to take PROPER PRECAUTIONS and be very careful to avoid that…"
…
"Well, proper staple gun usage means always pointing it AWAY from the face and body. So, I would say the best way to avoid the staple piercing skin is NOT pointing it at your skin, haha…"
…
"What do you mean, “What’s the second best way?”"
…
"What do you MEEEAN which staple HURTS the most?"
…
"Um. Okay, uh… Hold on, hold on. Let’s zoom out. Could you give me a little detail on what this… project is?"
…
"…It’s an… entertainment thing? Oh! Like a Do-It-Yourself show on HGTV?"
…
"Professional Wrestling?
…
…What is a Three-Dollar-Staple-Gun match?
…
……
………
"Oh my God."
…
"Stop talking."
…
"St-stop! Stop talking!"
"EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING YOU JUST SAID VIOLATES FEDERAL LABOR STANDARDS AS DICTATED BY THE OCCUPATIONAL SAFETY AND HEALTH ADMINISTRATION."
"Before you do… ANYTHING… with a staple gun… Both of you should be wearing safety goggles. And work gloves. And There should be WARNING TAPE surrounding the premises! An-..."
…
"NO, RING ROPES ARE NOT A KIND OF WARNING TAPE!"
…
MOREOVER! WHILE you are operating a staple gun, you should NEVER point a staple gun ANYWHERE NEAR ANYONE. So, the idea of two people competitively firing staple guns AT EACH OTHER, IT… VIOLATES SO MANY WORKPLACE REGULATIONS!
….
"…Oh. Okay, you’re not just firing staples AT each other.
Phew, okay, I’m sorry. For a second there, I thought…"
…
You’re stapling DOLLAR BILLS TO EACH OTHER!?!?!
…
And WHERE are the dollar bills coming from? From a bank? A bank that would properly sanitize each bill?
…
"YOU’RE GOING TO TAKE THEM FROM A LIVE AUDIENCE?"
"IN A RESTAURANT AT A HOTEL SLASH GENTLEMEN’S CLUB?"
"IN LAS VEGAS?"
"DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW CAKED IN VENEREAL DISEASES THOSE DOLLAR BILLS ARE?!?"
…
"…No, I!"
…
"You know what I’d LOVE, I WOULD LOVE… to put you on with a manager."
"YEAH. HOLD, PLEASE."
"HOWARD…"
HOWARD…
...
He’s a madman, Howard. He’s a Gee-Dee lunatic. He says he’s gonna staple DOLLAR BILLS to a co-worker, which is a violation of OSHA standards. So, Good Luck. GOOD LUCK, that’s what I have to say!
…Deep inhale.
“Dis Howard. Ace is the Place. What it do?”
…
“Yeah-huh.”
…
“Yeah-huh.”
…
“Sure. I bin there before.”
…
“Aight. Dis whatcha do. Yer gonna buy the Craftsman Pushfire 9/16 inch Heavy Duty Stapler.”
…
“Naw, sir. I don’t work on commission, so you know I ain’ tryin’ a upsell you. But, it got dis dang ‘on PushFire technology. Just about no kickback on the fire, total control in your hand."
"Now, I imagin’ your… uh… opponent? He’s gonna get some that’s pure bite, but it’s gonna zip in his hand like a goddamn Mississippi mos-keeter. But, you want controooooool. Three nails loaded, three nails right in his back. Git ‘er done, tell you what?"
…
"Or the face, sir, if that is your chosen staple target."
…
"Right, how’re YOU gonna dodge the staples? Yep, yep, yep. Lissen, so yer gonna wanna lather yourself in a thin layer of butter before your contest."
…
"Well, sir, a fired staple launches through the air about 300 feet per second. About a-tenth as fast as a bullet, sure, but still, you won’t have much time to side-step or dodge, if ya catch my drift. But a staple don’t take onto certain surfaces. They’re designed for carpet and upholstery… The heavier-duty will pierce wood…"
…
"Oh he did mention that?"
…
"…Right, but if you take a little time and butter yourself up… There’s a chance… Yessir, A chance, that that daggon staple’s gonna bounce off. Especially if you’re on the outside of its firing radius, about fifteen feet from the guy firing atcha?"
…
"If you’re at Point-blank range?"
…
"I reckon 20 percent chance. It’s still a high-power staple firing device, sir. Still gotta a good chance to pierce skin…
And the dollar bill, of course."
…
"I understand, I understand. I tell you what, though, 20 percent chance of NOT getting stapled? S’better than nothing when it comes to taking a staple to yer ass-cheeks at near-point blank range."
…
"Yessir, yessir. And if it’s three different, unique dollars? The chances of all three of those staples sticking becomes, like… uh… 80% to the third power which is…"
…
"…Ah, yes, 51.2%, thank ya kindly, sir. So you gotta about the odds of a coin flip that your opponent is gonna need to hit you FOUR times to get three to stick. Dem’s not bad odds, I reckon."
…
"Mmm-hmm."
…
"Liss'n, Don’t ask me the science behind it, sir. But, Land o’ Lakes butter does the best job at body-lathering to avoid taking a staple."
…
"Yessir, I use the stuff myself."
…
"Oh, sometimes me and my brother get in staple gun fights. Haha...
…
"Other times, I just fire the thing into mah own arm."
…
"Yessir, Reminds me I can still feel."
…
"Yep. Yep, yep, yep."
…
"All right. Anything else?"
…
"Absolutely. You have a great day now, sir."
…
“WHAT I TELL YOU ABOUT INTERRUPTING ME WHILE I’S WATCHING YOUNG SHELDON?!?”
*Ace Jingle*
***
Exterior. Ace Hardware Parking Lot.
At the lot’s far end, where fewer cars are parked…
A sandbag sits in the trunk-bed of a pick-up truck.
Stapled to the bag’s front is a glossy promotional headshot…
Of Buster Gloves.
“Gotta hand it to you, Buster…"
THWAK!
Suddenly, right between ‘Buster’’s eyes… A staple is deeeeeeply buried. Flecks of sand skitter…
“You have a good head on your shoulders… Heheheh.”
About ten feet away, Mark Flynn pops open the magazine on the Craftsmen Pushfire 9/16th inch Heavy Duty Stapler (Available at all Ace Hardware locations!)
In a flash, his left-hand reaches into his pocket, slipping out a staples clip. Smooth as silk, he slips the clip into the magazine.
He lifts it… He closes his left eye, aiming with his right.
CLP!
ZIP!
This staple straight to the throat!
“This gimmick match seems like a clever gambit…”
“The world knows I’m OBSESSIVE when it comes to match prep. My home supercomputer has 200 petabyte storage, filled to FUCKING CAPACITY… With virtually every recorded wrestling match.”
“Madison Square Garden in front of a sold-out crowd? Or a high-school gym with fifteen in the bleachers on a camcorder with shaky hands?”
“Either way, I watched it. Noted innovations to implement… And weaknesses to exploit.”
“Buuuuut.” Flynn grins, winking. “Buster, your sick, little mind INVENTED the Three-Dollar-Staple-Gun match…”
Flynn holsters the staple gun to his hip.
He spins around… Giving his back to his sandbaggy foe…
…
Flynn squares up like an old west gunslinger…
…
His finger twitches.
The camera pans over his face…
Then, the Buster headshot… lightly leaking sand…
“DRAW!”
Flynn spins! Firing from the hip!
THWIP!
A staple right to the heart! The sandbag’s burlap splits in half! The paper-face tears in two!
“HAHA!” Flynn blows on the staple gun’s business end. He spins the staple gun around his trigger finger, before holstering it.
Flynn beams, as he walks to the truck’s rear.
He whips out from a shopping bag…
A tub of Land o’ Lakes Butter…
Flynn pops off of the tub’s cap, as he side-eyes the camera. “I won’t lie, Glovesy. I’m SOMEWHAT impressed…”
He digs his fingers into the butter, getting a healthy dollop in his hands.
“Invent a match type! Flynn doesn’t have any matches to study!”
“Great plan. Almost clever.”
“Almost.”
…Flynn pulls his OPTIMAL PATH™ shirt over his head.
“Here’s the problem, though, Gloveroo. You… SKIMMED my stat line.”
“I’m not *JUST* the most studious, dedicated, OBSESSIVE-COMPULSIVE GENIUS… In wrestling today.”
…Flynn starts applying the butter onto his shoulers like sunscreen.
“I’m also the most adaptive.”
“The WGWF network servers went offline before CCPE vs The World. And Las Vegas betting sites almost fucking shut down with how many gambling addicts dumped their life savings onto long-shot John Cable.”
“How can Mark Flynn fight if he can’t do his ol’ stats routine? His Sabermetrics song-and-dance?”
“How will MARK FLYNN fight a match he can’t RESEARCH?”
“...And I did EVEN BETTER.”
“I FUCKING EMBARRASSED JOHN CABLE.”
…Flynn giggles confidently, as he takes a finger-ful of butter and rubs on the bridge of his nose.
“Via methodical, COMPLETE DIS-SEC-TION. I PUNCTURED Cable’s defenses like razor wire to a throat.”
“Because I’m not JUST the most dedicated student of the game.”
“I am not JUST THE SMARTEST ATHLETE ALIVE.”
“I am.”
“THE.”
“GREATEST.”
“WRESTLER.”
“IN THE WORLD.”
“Since Day One.”
…RIP! Flynn tears off his pants. He bends down, rubbing butter directly onto his thighs.
“And here’s how I know you’re not ready for me, Gloverboy.”
Flynn glimpses up into the camera.
“I checked your little hit-list.”
“Your HERO’S QUEST.”
“That roadmap given to you by James FUCKING Raven…”
…
“You know what I noticed, though, Glovesy?”
“My name… is at the BOTTOM of the list.”
“UNDER Holden Ross.”
“UNDER Xavier Lux.”
“UNDER FRED FUCKING DEBONAIR.”
“MARK.”
“FUCKING.”
“FLYNN.”
“Is at the BOTTOM of your list.”
…
“You put the only man to go undefeated across FOUR CROSSOVER EVENT APPEARANCES in this industry.”
“Your road-map router, James Raven? He LOST at CCPE versus The World.”
“Raion Kido? 50/50 record at crossover shows.”
“Hell, even Vaughnie? The top of your list? Your final boss? He lost his first two crossover shows AND got a no contest on number three.”
“Only me.”
“ONLY MARK FLYNN.”
“Is DOMINANT ENOUGH. To win in any company, any city, any state, any country, any continent, any goddamned cruise ship Tara Fenix can rent, any GODDAMNED PLANET IN THE STRATOSPHERE. PUT ME ON A ROCKET WITH OXYGEN, I’ll break your goddamned arm off in SPACE… Where no one can hear you scream.”
…Flynn’s smile glimmers in the sun… As does his white, buttery flesh… He lightly simmers.
[NOTE: DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME, KIDS]
“The fact that I’m at the BOTTOM of your list says all I need to know about your head.”
“You’re underestimating me.”
“Just like Kido underestimated me, with his Uni title on the line.”
“Just like Vaughnie underestimated me in his first XWF match against a non-gorilla. (And yes, I consider Drew Archyle a primate).”
“Just like Tristan Slater. The undefeated 22-0 superstar. Underestimated me ten LOOOOOONG years ago.”
“Buster, when I compete against a man who doesn’t know how dangerous I am?”
“I SLICE through them.”
“Like a hot knife…” Flynn giggles. “…Through butter.”
Behind Flynn, a high-schooler in an Ace Hardware vest walks by, pushing a half-dozen shopping carts.
Flynn sees him and calls over his shoulder.
“KID!” He holds up what little remains of the butter. “CAN YOU GET MY BACK?”
…
The kid runs back into the store.
Fin