Post by sleepy on Jun 27, 2017 5:37:41 GMT -5
“What are you up to?”
Danny Young lounges back in his chair, staring at the television as an unknown man approaches him from behind.
Danny Young: “I’m trying to see if I can really figure out why one of those losers I have to face acts the way he does… do you not think this guy has the same awkward almost nonexistent levels of charisma that Casey has?”
: “I’m pretty sure they’re either related or were both neglected by the majority of their peers.”
Danny Young: “True…”
///
A crash of thunder and the pale glimmer of lightning fills the scene, although, there is no clear indication of where these events are taking place. We see a figure in an all black suit, as dark as a chimney sweeps face after a 12 hour day.
: “And… action.”
The lightning crashes once again as the figure turns around, his face hard to see under the circumstances. The short black top hat on his head doing a fairly decent job of covering his face in some way. His voice seems put on, a very thick, over the top canadian accent.
Figure: “I’m a violent gentlemen, eh!”
Voice: “CUT!”
The lights return to a normal view as a man walks in to the camera shot, the image that we were seeing quite clearly being shot by a production company…
Danny Young: *inner monologue* “Like a wrestling show…”
The man in the all black suit and top hat is now clearly identifiable as Danny Young. He looks at the director who seems quite clearly angered at what Danny is doing.
Director: “Danny f*cking Young, what is wrong with you?”
Danny laughs before sparking up a cigarette and walking towards his private chair, the director trailing behind.
Director: “You’re the one that spent money to put this together and you’re not even taking it seriously!”
Danny Young: “And why should I? Have you seen this ridiculous get up? I look like a smarky virgin’s favourite wrestler in this get-up… wait…”
Danny turns to the camera, offering a wink. He’s not 100% certain of how things work in the quite confusing universe of WFWF, but he sure as hell knows that breaking the fourth wall to make fun of his opponents is acceptable.
Danny Young: “Look at me… in my guyliner… aren’t I so masculine and tough, eh? You ever seen that cartoon about those kids in Colorado? I look like the goth kids from that f***ing show.”
Director: “I know you look stupid but we sent people out to get a good look at one of your opponents and this was the feedback we were given. He, uh, he also toured Japan in 2001 or something important.”
Danny Young: “I didn’t ask for the life story of this f*cking loser, I wanted to know how he wrestles so I can make fun of him for putting wasted movements in to his maneouvers. He’s a Canadian so he probably uses the sharpshooter, right?”
Danny Young looks at the director who nods sympathetically, knowing what’s going to come next.
Danny Young: “You’re telling me… this guy is canadian… uses the sharpshooter… and is referred to as a ‘violent gentleman’? F*ck that ****, tell him to get his own schtick. Here’s one for you, hey, cameraguy, get over here quickly.”
The camera shakes a little as it rushes over to where Danny Young and the Director can be heard a little more clearly.
Danny Young: “Keep everything we’ve got so far for this boring goth. I’ve got a few more things to say about him and I hope he pays very very close attention to ‘em.”
He clears his throat and takes the hat off of his head, beginning to grin a little as he speaks.
Danny Young: “Listen here, Sean ‘The Sh*tman’ Casey. You’ll try to lock me in a sharpshooter and lose out because of the overhyped and wasted motions. You’ll try to take me for a wristclutch exploder but i’ll overpower you. Then once you’ve lost this match, you’ll go post on your blog and cry to Death Cab For Cutie songs.”
‘Pffft’ comes the sound of the very unprofessional director, who seems to just be one of Danny Young’s drinking buddies at this point.
Danny Young: “What i’m saying is, you don’t know what to do when an unexpected situation arrives. You freeze up under the lights and you bitch out. You’re not cut out for this, you’re nothing special, you’re just another Canadian hack that clings on to the glory of one old man that got his head kicked in and can’t wrestle anymore.”
The director shakes his head, trying to stifle laughter before an image appears on the screen, almost like the ending of an advertisement. It displays Danny Young giving a thumbs up with a shiny flare on his teeth. The background is a beautiful field with the sun beginning to set behind it as a jingle begins to play.
“Danny Young’s gonna kill a goth, Danny Young’s gonna kick your head off!”
///
We cut to a shot of the director of the last scene crouched down, looking over a chalk outline on the floor, on closer inspection, the chalk outline is simply a question mark. He looks around before he spots a figure approaching. He smiles before standing up and offering his hand.
Director: “Mr. Young, it’s been years since you were last out on a case!”
The camera shot pans up to reveal Danny Young in a very ‘miami’ style suit, reminiscent of a famous television detective.
Danny Young: “Well Smalls, I thought i’d have to put in some work to help find our mystery man. Any possible leads?”
Director: “We have a list of names for who this guy may be… i’ve heard rumours it’s Trace Demon in a costume.”
Danny Young: “That’s impossible, goths never try to stand out. WAIT! That may just be the perfect alibi…”
We cut over to an interrogation with someone that obviously isn’t Trace Demon. He looks slightly confused as to why he’s back there or why his hair has been forcibly dyed.
Danny Young: “So… Trace… if that is your real name.”
“Trace”: “I told you, i’m not Trace Demon.”
Danny Young: “That’s exactly what Trace Demon would say! Book him boys!”
The camera pans around slowly to reveal Director Smalls tucking in to some bbq chicken wings, making a mess of his shirt as a sigh can be heard.
Danny Young: “Smalls! You sure this is the right guy?”
Director Smalls: “How am I supposed to know! You’re the one that brought him here!”
Danny Young: “You said Trace Demon wouldn’t show up for the shoot so I should just grab someone who didn’t look busy…”
Director Smalls: “Yeah, that’s true.”
With a disgruntled look on his face, Danny Young turns to look at “Trace”
Danny Young: “Get out of here… and don’t let me catch you performing any more rituals you creepy bastard.”
“Trace”: “I was setting up a f*cking monitor you psycho!”
Danny Young: “That’s what they all say…”
With the loud ‘SLAM’ of a door, we cut to a close up shot of Danny Young. He’s trying really hard to talk with his mouth closed so he can perform an inner monologue like the rest of WFWF.
Danny Young: *inner monologue* “This is the first time i’ve ever been stumped on a case like this…”
He looks towards the camera, still trying to hide the movement of his mouth.
Danny Young: “I’ve checked WFWF.com’s roster section so many times and nothing has shown up… it’s like you’ve vanished.”
He begins to speak clearly, looking just past the camera this time to give the impression he’s not trying to sound stupid when he asks this question.
Danny Young: “Vass… who are you?”
///
We return from the opening credits of CSI: Danny to see another crimescene, this time there’s a strong hint of ‘special snowflake syndrome’ in the area as the room displays several posters for bands such as Brand New, My Chemical Romance, Saosin and Alesana. We see a crumpled piece of paper laying on the desk as Officer Danny Young makes his way in to the room, followed by Director Smalls.
Danny Young: “Alright, I want to know what the hell’s happened here!”
Director Smalls: “Well sir, it seems to have been an accidental suicide.”
Danny Young: “Accidental, you mean whoever it was pussied out half way through or like… they killed themselves by mistake.”
Director Smalls: “Pussied out half way through. An awful lot of blood but no body.”
Danny Young: “No body… nobody… HA! I HAVE IT NOW!”
Director Smalls looks to Officer Young in shock as he rushes to the desk, opening the piece of paper up to reveal...
Director Smalls: “What the hell is that?”
Danny Young: “Can’t you see it Smalls? Look! A combination of three simple things.”
He points towards the walls.
Danny Young: “Goth.”
He points towards paper.
Danny Young: “Cringe.”
He motions towards the emptiness of the room.
Danny Young: “No body… nobody. The criminal is cringey, a goth and a nobody. Remember what we did earlier on today in our undercover work? I had to play the role of someone like that for a few seconds and god I know I felt like killing myself. It must’ve been The Sh*tman! I mean, Sean Casey!”
Director Smalls: “Who?”
Danny Young: “Exactly!”
Director Smalls: “You’ve cracked the case sir! But if this crime was committed by Sean Casey… then what about the fact that there is legitimately no body here?”
Officer Young: “F*ck… wait a second. No body plus nobody, minus the goth and the cringe factor. Multiply that by the sum of posters on the wall but then remove the third digit in the number of f*cks I give about Sean Casey and you get the only logical answer…”
Numbers and letters begin flying around Danny Young who begins to slap at them.
Danny Young: “Keep them away from my face, they’re supposed to be in the background!”
The camera zooms out a little to reveal the fact that a bunch of men on step ladders are holding sticks with string and numbers/letters attached to them. Danny Young sighs before his serious face returns.
Danny Young: “Who the f*ck is Vass?”
The camera zooms in on the face of Director Smalls who is casually wiping BBQ sauce from around his mouth. He puts on a shocked look before closing his mouth, attempting to deliver his own inner monologue.
Director Smalls: *inner monologue* “I would’ve gotten extra wings if I had known today was going to be this long…”
Danny Young: *inner monologue* “It’s cool to be able to say what i’m thinking without judgement or without people being able to know what i’m saying. F*ck J Cole!”
Director Smalls: *inner monologue* “I can hear you Danny-eh, I mean, Officer Young! Is this telepathy? Either way… f*ck J Cole!”
Danny Young: *inner monologue* “No, this is inner monologuing. It’s all the rage over at WFWF. I think someone might just dub in our voices over the top of this and then add an echo effect while lowering the volume on them to give them an inner monologue kind of sound.”
Director Smalls: *inner monologue* “I don’t know why we’re doing this whole inner monologue, the audience shouldn’t be able to hear our inner thoughts… unlike a wrestling show.”
Danny Young and Director Smalls both turn and wink at the camera.
Danny Young: *inner monologue* “Who is Vass? What is veal? Where does quorn come from?”
Director Smalls: *inner monologue* “How much would it be for 5 wings? Does anyone have any extra sauce? Where am I?”
Danny Young: *inner monologue* “This is warehouse 34… we hired this place for the day and I really don’t wanna let it go to waste.”
Director Smalls: *inner monologue* “Oh… fair enough.”
///
Danny Young: “So… here we are again.”
Danny walks in to the lighting of a dimly lit room, he takes a seat and sighs a little before he begins to speak once again.
Danny Young: “Once again i’m here… in another man’s country… taking another man’s money. What I mean by that is the fact that the winners here in WFWF earn a significant amount more than those they beat and it’s quite clear i’m going to stand above the two men I have to face tonight. If you need any proof, lets take a proper look at Sean Casey other than the fact he behaves like pre-teen that can’t escape their phase of thinking fedoras look slightly cool. He’s been wrestling for 20 years… his hair is going gray and he’s only just made it to the big time. His body has started giving out on him that he’s taken to drowning his sorrows in cheap liquor and over the counter pills. Do you know how sad it actually is to see that? Do you know how it feels for me to know that one of my opponents is already at the gates to the graveyard? Hell, your body has gotten so f*cked up that your ring gear is a clone of the canadian I mentioned earlier because you most likely need to cover up your gut. I know we’re in Canada for Confluence but it’s hard not to hold back on this subject… well, actually, it really isn’t. You’re trying so hard to be someone you’re not that even your family must be thinking it’d be for the best if you lost your battle to the drugs and booze and choked on your vomit in your sleep.”
Danny Young shakes his head a little, looking around as Director Smalls walks towards him, nodding briefly before he stands up and follows him.
Danny Young: “As for Vass ‘The Slayer’... I don’t think there’s anything I need to say. Who the f*ck are you? Did they screw up the match orders? I’m pretty sure the opening match tonight has two other unknown people in there and it sure as hell seems like you’d be a perfect fit. I’ve heard whisperings that you’ve been around WFWF before but it’s pretty clear you’re not worth being mentioned alongside the likes of other greats in WFWF because you’ve done nothing noteworthy.”
Director Smalls pauses before pointing Danny over towards a set of metal drawers, upon closer inspection, they’re cold chambers, meaning that Young and Smalls are in a morgue.
Danny Young: “I can get serious too you know, I can be very serious. I like to f*ck around, sure, but I do that to make sure I don’t lose myself to the vices you’ve lost yourself to Sean. I love to smoke cigs and I know one day it’ll catch up to me but the difference between me and you is that I can quit whenever I want and the only day you quit…”
Danny slams his hand against one of the cold chambers as the lighting allows the name to be read more clearly as ‘Sean Casey’
Danny Young: “Is when you end up in one of these. F*ck Vass, f*ck Sean Casey… long live The Collective.”
Danny grins before offering a cheeky wink, letting the scene fade out with only a little bit of music playing in the background.
“You are my sunshine… my only sunshine…”