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Krimsin.. KLUTCH!!

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Krimsin.. KLUTCH!!

Post  King Krimsin on Fri May 22, 2015 10:11 pm

After a short break in the action, the scene opens on Tom Midas, in a hallway backstage.  The camera follows him, at a comfortable walking pace, as he rounds a corner, and comes to his locker room door.  He presses down on the handle, pushes open the door, and makes his way into the large dressing room, camera hot on his heels.

Smiling, he turns his back to the camera, and sets his bag down on a wooden bench in front of one of the lockers.  He looses a delighted sigh and sits down next to the bag.  However, as he reaches for the zipper, a rather ominous knocking is heard at the door.  His smile disappears, as he looks toward the door.  He calls out, cordially, to whomever is on the other side of the door.  

Tom :  Who is it??

No answer.  Instead, the knocking is heard once more.

A now frowning Tom reluctantly gets up from his seat. and makes his way to the door.

Tom :  Who is it??  

He asks once more, this time more curiously.

This time, however, there is a reply.  The voice on the other side of the door is friendly, though barely audible.  It definitely belongs to a man, as it is thick with bass.

??? :  I only need a moment of your time please, sir.

Tom rolls his eyes, chuckles, and mutters under his breath.

Tom :  How the heck do they let fans get back here...

He presses down the handle, and pulls the door open.  His smile fades quickly when he realizes this is no fan awaiting him on the other side.

Standing a mere foot or two from Tom, on the other side of the threshold, is the eccentric, evil, looking painted visage of Marcurcio the Mauve.  Marc says nothing;  he stands there, just smiling into the face of Tom.  

Tom :  Psh...  What the hell do you want?  Come to waste my time some more with your story telling?

Marc’s grin spreads a little wider, and his lips pull back, finally exposing his teeth.  This wouldn’t be particularly odd, except that his teeth are bright green.  Tom obviously notices, as he takes a half step backward.

Tom :  What the... What’s wrong with your...?

Before he can finish his statement, Marc winds up with his entire body, and spews a cloud of green mist directly into Tom’s face.  Tom throws his hands up to protect his face, but, likewise, is too late with that as well.  He attempts to wipe clean his face of the offending green liquid, but it doesn’t appear to be working, so he lunges for Marc.  Marc takes one calm step backward, and Tom’s arms reach to where he had just been standing.

As Tom goes to take another step, reaching out farther in order to blindly grab for Marc, his hands grasp, instead, around the leather biker vest of the gigantic, scowling, King Krimsin.

Holding onto the vest with his left hand, believing he has Marc, Tom goes to throw a haymaker with his right.  However, before the punch begins coming forward, King bull rushes him backward, into the room.  The amount of force shoving him into his dressing room surprises Tom, and he nearly trips over a chair as he retreats back a bit.

Tom wipes at his face again, in vain, as King Krimsin takes three giant steps toward him.  He grabs Tom’s head with both of his large hands, and launches him headlong into one of the empty lockers, sending him crashing to the floor.  As an overwhelmed Tom attempts to scramble up to his feet, King Krimsin sends a well placed, size twenty, boot straight into his lower back, sending him crumpling down to the ground again.

A sneering Marcurcio makes his way into the room, shuts the door, and locks it behind them, while King Krimsin drops three vicious stomps onto the back of his grounded opponent.

Blinded, Tom is forced to try to cover up, and get away.  He scoots along the bench using his right hand, as his left arm hugs his right ear in attempt to protect his head.  King Krimsin bends down, and violently yanks him to his feet.  Tom pushes off King’s chest, and retreats backward, but runs into the wall.  Before he can get out of the way, King Krimsin, with a head of steam, charges in with a nasty shoulder block, squashing Tom agains the wall;  as he falls to the floor once again, drywall sprinkles down all around him, as the impact of the men’s bodies has left a large hole in the wall.

Tom attempts to get to his feet once more, but is met by a soccer kick straight to the gut.  He flattens back down onto the floor, all the air in his body having been knocked out forcefully, before attempting to turtle up.  

A frantic knock is heard at the door, and voices are heard on the other side inquiring as to whether or not everything is alright, and pleading for the door to be opened.

King Krimsin grabs Tom by the nape of his neck, and drags him into the center of the room with noticeable ease.  He drops him, face first, at the feet of Marc.  Before Tom can once again try to scramble to his feet, the gargantuan King Krimsin sits down onto the small of his back.  Then, quickly, he tucks either of Tom’s arms behind his knees, clasps both of his large hands under Tom’s chin, and then sits back, executing his patented Krimsin Klutch.

Tom screams in pain, and the expression on his face is that of a man trapped underneath a bus.  King Krimsin’s face shows strain, as he reclines back, putting an impossible amount of force onto the lower back of Tom.  While King Krimsin torques, Marcurcio calmly kneels down beside the screaming Tom, and begins talking over him.  His voice is cool, calm, and rich.  As he speaks, he can’t help but grin periodically, exposing his green teeth that clash with his white painted face.

Marcurcio :  Tom Midas...  

Tsk.. Tsk..

You’ve bought your way into the AXN Heavyweight Championship Tournament...  And after last week... Well now you can buy a new back!  Ha ha...
   

Tom continues to scream and grunt, obviously in a great deal of pain.  Krimsin continues to torque.  And more knocking can be heard at the door, followed by a slew of voices pleading for the door to be opened.

The gods favored you last week...  You showed great resourcefulness and tact, cowardly as you were...  Which is what brings us here, now...

Before you pass out, I just wanted to congratulate you on advancing to the final round of the tournament!  Where you will have your shot at the AXN Heavyweight Championship!  A shot for which you not only payed a monetary sum, but are paying the physical toll as well.


At this point, it sounds like at least twelve to fifteen people are shouting outside the door, and periodically, one of them attempts to slam the door to knock it open; to no avail, however.

When I told you that you had never seen anything like us before, I was not doing so just to hear myself talk.  See... We are not here for handouts.. We are not here for an easy ride to the top.. I wanted you to know what you were up against!

You are the ant...

We are the boot.

It would behoove you to head those words, Tom Midas... That is.. if the idea of walking around on your own two feet is one that appeals to you.


Marc’s head snaps toward the door, as the voices on the other side of the door collectively calm down a bit, and the tinny sound of keys can be heard.  He gives King Krimsin a stern look, and stands up.  At the same time, King Krimsin follows suit, dropping Tom’s face onto the floor.

The door flies open, and several members of security, and various other staff file into the room.  The site of the seven footer towering over Tom’s unstirring body, or maybe it’s Marc’s green teeth, causes every single one of the nearly twelve men to stop dead in their tracks.  They gawk, mouths agape, at the grizzly scene.

Barely a moment passes, before, in unison, Marc and King Krimsin begin to amble toward the door.  The men fall over themselves to get out of their way, as they stride out the door.  

As several of the men rush over to attend to Tom Midas, the scene fades to black.
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King Krimsin

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