Post by Mariano Fernandez on Apr 23, 2018 1:30:21 GMT
The scene opens to one of the myriad arcades in the Akihabara district of Tokyo, where in front of a gathered crowd, Sammy 3.0 and DA #TROLL GUY, Mariano Fernandez, are in full gear, playing the Japanese version of Street Fighter II. Manny pauses for a moment before turning around, and seeing the NJFC labeled camera, he taps his partner on the shoulder. Sammy turns to the camera, after stealing a cheap win from Manny.
Mariano:
“Here we are, my AI partner and I, having our first steps in this distinguished company in the Land of the Rising Sun, mang. The prospect of being invited here for a chance to dethrone the long-reigning DPG, as enticing as it is, is the FINAL step of a road we have yet to take.
And our first obstacle, chicos, we already know - SHOOTCAMP, Ace Watson and Owen Gonsalves. They were the better the first time we faced. But here, mang, here we have a second chance. And we’re coming back to make things even.”
Mariano bumps his fists, one against the other, making a thudding sound.
Sammy:
“There are time lords and queens among us as well. Lisa Sheldon. Anna Mathews. Possibly the second strangest team in this tournament. Not that strangest, that's us.”
“I had a bit or a feud with Anna. Lisa represents my mortal foe, water! I have more than enough reasons to take these two out. For one, Anna Mathews destroys most of what she touches. She is unstable and not suitable to be a champion in a prestigious organization.”
Manny:
“Next we have Konrad Raab and Caleb Foster. Both of them friends of mine, mang, and we have yet to face each other. I do count in my favor a win against his brother Markus at this very time of year in 4CW, and I’m looking forward for his return - or Konrad’s run should so he choose. Likewise with Caleb Foster, hope we cross paths like we were MEANT to in the long forgotten APEX. Or in WWH, should they ever come a-calling.”
“But make no mistake, chicos. We’re coming here with a purpose in mind. We’re not looking to do a random shootout in the odd chance we strike gold. SHOOTCAMP is our first goal - Jason Cashe and Tommy Knox are the last. And if you come in between - you’ll be a goal we’ll gladly score. By the way, Caleb - your hair is beautiful, mang, but mine - mine is just god damned GLORIOUS.”
To emphasize this point, he throws his head back, his hair flowing with the motion as he gives his trademark Trollface.
Sammy:
“Small Boob Wrecking crew? What even? Look, I'm a lover of the human anatomy as well, but I don't see the point of naming your team after the size of your breasts. On the other hand, I've heard they're pretty good.”
Sammy taps her own latex breasts. It could be argued that she’d be frowning - were it not for the fact she has no mouth.
“Pretty good isn't good enough when you face Manny and Sammy. I am the picture of perfection. I gorge myself on the hate directed towards me. I feed on it. Manny isn't just a contender, he's a champion and at one point he held the world championship. He was the greatest in the world. Boobs don't stop skill.”
Mariano gives a sly smile, then a small wink of his eye.
Manny:
“I told you once before, Annie, that I wouldn’t mind experiencing one of them sexiest piledrivers you have, but that’s gonna have to be another time. Right now Sammy and I, there’s one objective we have, mang - and it’s some god damned recognition. We DON’T want to be the god damned underdogs anymore.”
This time, his face turns serious, as he points straight ahead, almost touching the camera lens.
Manny:
“We’re not the Dogs of War (they thought I was going to be a morsel in Kamikaze Pro, but ask Mitsuo Shimada in Kamikaze and Devin Hearst in GRINDHOUSE how that went, mang). We’re not a cheap knock-off living off their name like the Cats of Peace. We’re not Zombie Black or Jack Stanton, or whoever the god damned Renja’s and Grievous Bodily Harm fancy themselves to be, mang.
I’m one of the names that people recognize everywhere they go for the sole fact that I’m not like your average piss-and-shit wrestler. I’m Mariano Fernandez. DA #TROLL GUY. The guy who gets a god damned horde of people coming at him on Twitter every day and answers laughing in their faces. I don’t even need to list my accomplishments - they’re out there for the world to see - and still they are not why I’m the name I’ve become.
Now it’s NJFC’s turn, and all of you are gonna find it out first god damned hand.”
Sammy:
“The wrestlers in the back want to talk about legends. They want to talk about rules and standards. If you want to see future legends and modern standards, look at us. How many of the teams involved with this even promoted the event on Social Media? How many people actually care?”
Sammy shakes her head and points to the camera. The camera catches a glimpse of the Stanton Enterprises logo decorating her left ab.
“You know who cares? We do. We've fought for this moment. We've struggled for this moment. None of these teams can come bring anything close to what we wield. We are righteous in our ways, but we are not weak and we will not be denied a moment that both of our careers have been leading towards!”
Sammy does a Hadou-Ken pose - Ryu’s trademark move in Street Fighter, which happens to be Mariano’s pick.
“JAPAN. 404 is here to lay claim to greatness against teams of a high calibre. We come to prove that among them, we are the alpha team. Our goals are simple but our methods are anything but. We do not quiver or beg for forgiveness. We do not play politics and complain until we get what we want.”
Sammy gives a simple but firm nod.
Sammy:
“Simply put, we earn what we have. We could cheat. We could play dirty. But those victories would be hollow. We are here to fight and through fighting earn a chance to hear the announcer say…”
“AND NEW…”
Manny:
“... G! P! C! WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS!”
Both of them, in unison, make a finishing slash sign in the air.
Manny:
“Nippon Budokan, April 26th. New Japan Fighting Championship, Tag-Team-Tropolis tournament, chicos. This exact place at this exact time is when we make our god damned mark in this honored company that’s kindly extended us their invitation to participate. Ace and Owen, here in Japan, got a narrow one over us - but here is where that changes. Here is when my motorised partner and I - we plow through anyone and anything standing in our way.
The Dogs of War might want to dominate Japan - but should we face, they will slink back to their kennel as they did when their ranks faced me. Cats of Peace will be sent back to their litter. Anna’s TARDIS ain’t gonna save her and Lisa, nor Annie Zellor’s piledrivers will be enough. Caleb and Konrad will be kicked back to WWH, and Harper Hill and Miss Fortune will be the ones suffering Grievous Bodily Harm. The rest of you, if you even bother to show, are gonna suffer the same exact god damned fate.
And finally, Jason Cashe and Tommy Knox we’re plowing through to face and take away the titles they’ve held for so long. Hope you don’t shit ourselves knowing it’s Manny and a god damned android that were the ones to stand above you - because the Emperor knows - we’ve missed the chance long enough.
We’re ERROR #404, and a team like ours has NOT!
BEEN!
FOUND!”
Turning around back to the game, Mariano notices the “K.O.” sign and his downed Ryu next to Sammy’s Blanka - backflipping excitedly in victory. His face turns back to Sammy, wearing a childish pout.
Manny:
“God DAMNIT MANG!”
Fade to black.
Mariano:
“Here we are, my AI partner and I, having our first steps in this distinguished company in the Land of the Rising Sun, mang. The prospect of being invited here for a chance to dethrone the long-reigning DPG, as enticing as it is, is the FINAL step of a road we have yet to take.
And our first obstacle, chicos, we already know - SHOOTCAMP, Ace Watson and Owen Gonsalves. They were the better the first time we faced. But here, mang, here we have a second chance. And we’re coming back to make things even.”
Mariano bumps his fists, one against the other, making a thudding sound.
Sammy:
“There are time lords and queens among us as well. Lisa Sheldon. Anna Mathews. Possibly the second strangest team in this tournament. Not that strangest, that's us.”
“I had a bit or a feud with Anna. Lisa represents my mortal foe, water! I have more than enough reasons to take these two out. For one, Anna Mathews destroys most of what she touches. She is unstable and not suitable to be a champion in a prestigious organization.”
Manny:
“Next we have Konrad Raab and Caleb Foster. Both of them friends of mine, mang, and we have yet to face each other. I do count in my favor a win against his brother Markus at this very time of year in 4CW, and I’m looking forward for his return - or Konrad’s run should so he choose. Likewise with Caleb Foster, hope we cross paths like we were MEANT to in the long forgotten APEX. Or in WWH, should they ever come a-calling.”
“But make no mistake, chicos. We’re coming here with a purpose in mind. We’re not looking to do a random shootout in the odd chance we strike gold. SHOOTCAMP is our first goal - Jason Cashe and Tommy Knox are the last. And if you come in between - you’ll be a goal we’ll gladly score. By the way, Caleb - your hair is beautiful, mang, but mine - mine is just god damned GLORIOUS.”
To emphasize this point, he throws his head back, his hair flowing with the motion as he gives his trademark Trollface.
Sammy:
“Small Boob Wrecking crew? What even? Look, I'm a lover of the human anatomy as well, but I don't see the point of naming your team after the size of your breasts. On the other hand, I've heard they're pretty good.”
Sammy taps her own latex breasts. It could be argued that she’d be frowning - were it not for the fact she has no mouth.
“Pretty good isn't good enough when you face Manny and Sammy. I am the picture of perfection. I gorge myself on the hate directed towards me. I feed on it. Manny isn't just a contender, he's a champion and at one point he held the world championship. He was the greatest in the world. Boobs don't stop skill.”
Mariano gives a sly smile, then a small wink of his eye.
Manny:
“I told you once before, Annie, that I wouldn’t mind experiencing one of them sexiest piledrivers you have, but that’s gonna have to be another time. Right now Sammy and I, there’s one objective we have, mang - and it’s some god damned recognition. We DON’T want to be the god damned underdogs anymore.”
This time, his face turns serious, as he points straight ahead, almost touching the camera lens.
Manny:
“We’re not the Dogs of War (they thought I was going to be a morsel in Kamikaze Pro, but ask Mitsuo Shimada in Kamikaze and Devin Hearst in GRINDHOUSE how that went, mang). We’re not a cheap knock-off living off their name like the Cats of Peace. We’re not Zombie Black or Jack Stanton, or whoever the god damned Renja’s and Grievous Bodily Harm fancy themselves to be, mang.
I’m one of the names that people recognize everywhere they go for the sole fact that I’m not like your average piss-and-shit wrestler. I’m Mariano Fernandez. DA #TROLL GUY. The guy who gets a god damned horde of people coming at him on Twitter every day and answers laughing in their faces. I don’t even need to list my accomplishments - they’re out there for the world to see - and still they are not why I’m the name I’ve become.
Now it’s NJFC’s turn, and all of you are gonna find it out first god damned hand.”
Sammy:
“The wrestlers in the back want to talk about legends. They want to talk about rules and standards. If you want to see future legends and modern standards, look at us. How many of the teams involved with this even promoted the event on Social Media? How many people actually care?”
Sammy shakes her head and points to the camera. The camera catches a glimpse of the Stanton Enterprises logo decorating her left ab.
“You know who cares? We do. We've fought for this moment. We've struggled for this moment. None of these teams can come bring anything close to what we wield. We are righteous in our ways, but we are not weak and we will not be denied a moment that both of our careers have been leading towards!”
Sammy does a Hadou-Ken pose - Ryu’s trademark move in Street Fighter, which happens to be Mariano’s pick.
“JAPAN. 404 is here to lay claim to greatness against teams of a high calibre. We come to prove that among them, we are the alpha team. Our goals are simple but our methods are anything but. We do not quiver or beg for forgiveness. We do not play politics and complain until we get what we want.”
Sammy gives a simple but firm nod.
Sammy:
“Simply put, we earn what we have. We could cheat. We could play dirty. But those victories would be hollow. We are here to fight and through fighting earn a chance to hear the announcer say…”
“AND NEW…”
Manny:
“... G! P! C! WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS!”
Both of them, in unison, make a finishing slash sign in the air.
Manny:
“Nippon Budokan, April 26th. New Japan Fighting Championship, Tag-Team-Tropolis tournament, chicos. This exact place at this exact time is when we make our god damned mark in this honored company that’s kindly extended us their invitation to participate. Ace and Owen, here in Japan, got a narrow one over us - but here is where that changes. Here is when my motorised partner and I - we plow through anyone and anything standing in our way.
The Dogs of War might want to dominate Japan - but should we face, they will slink back to their kennel as they did when their ranks faced me. Cats of Peace will be sent back to their litter. Anna’s TARDIS ain’t gonna save her and Lisa, nor Annie Zellor’s piledrivers will be enough. Caleb and Konrad will be kicked back to WWH, and Harper Hill and Miss Fortune will be the ones suffering Grievous Bodily Harm. The rest of you, if you even bother to show, are gonna suffer the same exact god damned fate.
And finally, Jason Cashe and Tommy Knox we’re plowing through to face and take away the titles they’ve held for so long. Hope you don’t shit ourselves knowing it’s Manny and a god damned android that were the ones to stand above you - because the Emperor knows - we’ve missed the chance long enough.
We’re ERROR #404, and a team like ours has NOT!
BEEN!
FOUND!”
Turning around back to the game, Mariano notices the “K.O.” sign and his downed Ryu next to Sammy’s Blanka - backflipping excitedly in victory. His face turns back to Sammy, wearing a childish pout.
Manny:
“God DAMNIT MANG!”
Fade to black.
