Post by tactilizingone on Dec 20, 2023 23:58:49 GMT -5
The screen is entirely dark at first, and all we hear is audio with captions appearing and fading from view.
“We’ve seen several different, well, versions of you in your time with Thunder Pro Wrestling. We’ve also seen a different side of El Diablo Blanco emerge over the course of this year. Do you see any parallels between your respective changes?”
“At different times, I would have had different reactions to what we’ve seen in plain sight: The transformation of one El Diablo Blanco. To understand his place, though, is to understand the force TPW Strong has battled this entire year, in which El D claims as allies – the Cabal.”
A scene then comes into view, depicting shoppers leading a line out the door of Macy*s Herald Square, a Manhattan flagship store, waiting for Christmas pictures with Jolly Saint Nick himself. As families and eager fans of indulging in seasonal festivities gather, we see an elf peeking into the ‘Santa’s Village,’ except a banner reads, ‘Cabal’s Clubhouse.’ The elf scurries as a candy cane is thrown out of a hut in their general direction. Suddenly, we see a janitor’s clothing following out the door, and from the makeshift village comes ‘Santa,’ a slimmer type who only vaguely could resemble a certain TPW Champion. He makes a laborious effort to walk over to the lauded seat where his admirers can take a moment to stop by and chat. Above the seat is a simple banner with bold lettering: Visit TPW’s North Pole Champion
“What do these kids think I’m even going to give them? They need more than a miracle,” Santa grumbles.
Larry Tact (V/O): “El Diablo Blanco takes notes from a TPW Heavyweight Champion who’s most charitable contribution is to himself, by gifting the Cabal’s to himself. Yes, they all may have slight variations on what they’re doing at a given time, it’s no secret that they come together to take down any threat to his reign. Imagine if Santa were such a miscreant towards his fans…”
We see kids begin to come up to Santa Champ, and quickly realize their wishes are being largely ignored and, therefore, dashed. If any kids should so much as give the appearance they will be defiant or have a tear appear in their eye, Santa Champ gives them a swift boot to the rump, sending them tumbling down a chute into a pit of snowflakes. The novelty of such punishment even wears off, though, and Santa Champ waves an arm before he’s gotten through even half the line. He yawns, then picks up a dinner bell and shakes it, causing an annoying ringing.
Santa Champ: “Where is he? Bring me El Diavolo!.”
This is when we see a horn-masked luchador appear, resembling El D but clearly lacking the same level of conditioning. From one horn hangs a jingle bell, while the other is a miniature present box, wrapped neatly in green and red. He carries with him a silver platter.”
Santa Champ: “What took so long? I thought you were supposed to be crowd controlling, and keeping all the naughty children away!”
El Diavolo: “Here’s the thing, broth– er, Champ. None of the children met your criteria.”
Santa Champ looked with disgust at the significant remaining families and children.
Santa Champ: “Then what are these kids doing here?”
El Diavolo: *shrugs* “I didn’t want you to think no one cared about your appearance, Santa brother, so I went ahead and lined up people who I considered on my own list.”
Santa Champ looks horrified.
Santa Champ: “You used YOUR list? That’s absolutely ridiculous. I don’t have you around to tell me ideas. I have you around to get some easy jabs at these idiots while acting as my meat shield! Speaking of, where’s your trademark!”
El Diavolo looks down at the platter and hands it to Santa Champ, who pulls out a TPW Heavyweight Championship replica and lays it on his lap, setting the platter on it. He looks out with the most humbug scowl at the crowd, who are asking when visits with the Champ will resume, holding out memorabilia for autographs.
Santa Champ: “I don’t get paid by the hour, I’m eating!”
He opens the top of the platter to show a Shrimp fra Diavolo and begins digging in with utensils while El Diavolo stares.
El Diavolo: “Wouldn’t you want a ham this time of year, not a seafood? What does my trademark dish have to do with the holidays?”
Santa Champ: “Do you still not understand the Cabal? We deliver the exact opposite of what people want. That’s a lesson to you!”
Santa Champ grumbles while he nibbles on the shrimp, spitting it out.
Santa Champ: “As I expected, this is substandard, same as your results for the Cabal. Why did you even bother to make a list? What criteria did you even use??”
El Diavolo removes the small wrapped present from around one burnt horn, and opens it to remove a folded up piece of paper. He clears his throat.
El Diavolo: “Here are the main points, not in any order, brother Champ. Any child wanting to visit Santa Champ must prove three of the following five:
‘El D’ looks proudly at Santa Champ, whose expression only sours as he scans the line again.
Santa Champ: “It sounds like all you’ve drawn here are Naughty children who bully and belittle others.”
El Diavolo: Yes! They’re the type of people who support me, brother. They’re my true fans, unlike the rest who betrayed my loyalty to them, and made me turn to the Cabal for a new attitude, Jack!”
‘El D’ is surprised to see Santa Champ is rubbing the bridge of his nose and groaning.
Santa Champ: “That’s great for you, but why would I want to have them sent to me in droves?! I don’t need to deal with brat after brat, and freshly minted bullies!”
El Diavolo: Okay, dude, but… I thought you’d be impressed by their attitudes, Santa brother.”
El Diavolo clearly has not impressed the Santa Champ, who sends his dish of Shrimp fra Diavolo into the masked face of the luchador. He then rips off white ‘beard’ and tosses it at Diavolo, and it sticks to the mess-covered mask before slowly falling off. Santa Champ looks at all of those gathered.
Santa Champ: “NEWSFLASH!!! Christmas is cancelled, chumps!”
The kids look around for a few moments, seeing devastated looks on the parents with them. Then some of them start squealing:
El Diavolo looks at Santa Champ, whose jaw begins to drop.
El Diavolo: “Looks like you’re giving them a big treat this year, brother.”
Santa Champ: “No, I… that’s not what the Cabal wants at all!”
He sticks a crooked finger towards the sopping mask of ‘El D.’
Santa Champ: “Fix this!”
Santa Champ then storms off, back into the hut, slamming the door shut.
The shot zooms out slowly, as the image of El Diavolo wiping off his mask from the sloppy remains of his trademark dish fade. We see it was being shown on a video screen, and sitting on either side of it at a desk are Mark Markson, TPW’s lead commentator, and the wrestler we heard in voiceover earlier. Larry Tact has the studio lights reflecting off his shaved head, wearing a Giorgio Armani gray custom suit and slacks, accessorized by a blue tie with metallic stripes, along with a pair of Hugo Boss wingtips.
Mark Markson: “Clearly, you had a little fun here, Larry. But if I know anything about you, it’s that you come prepared. Regardless of the match, you seem ready and I know you don’t think El Diablo Blanco is a pushover.”
Larry offers a smirk, momentarily indicating the screen with a thumb.
Larry Tact: Damn right, Mark. El Diablo Blanco, the once-heroic and present pariah of the THUNDERAMANIACS, cost me quite a lot this year. He took my hair. He helped take my TPW International Championship. It’s no secret I was going to come back around to deal with him.”
He leans back and places his hands on the desk, nodding.
Larry Tact: But I was patient. I wanted El Diablo Blanco to be sure that, when I came around to collect on the receipts he owes me? He would understand the reality of what I have in store would be an epic beatdown. It wouldn’t be a match – it would be a fight. That’s why I took my time, and found just the right spot for him to be tactfully surrendered. The only place that really made sense for it has always been at Winter Wrestleland.”
Mark Markson: “Well, the time for waiting is expiring! This will be nothing less than a match that the Thunderamaniacs come in hot for, and it seems like you’re ready to bring just as much heat in the ring. But what about the Cabal? They’ve been a near constant intruder in your matches for months. You fought hard at War Games, but they ultimately did prevail.”
Larry Tact: You know, Markson, it’s a fact that ‘Thundering’ Terry Marshall’s team couldn’t overcome the Cabal at War Games. He threw in the towel for our safety. As much as I respect TM, here’s a #TactFact: I’m walking into Winter Wrestleland on my own. Team Marshall had a good run, but we’re not fooling anyone like the Cabal. We don’t need tricks to achieve our goals. We believe in each other’s talent individually as much as collectively. When it comes to me? I retired Bam Miller, buried him under bricks in a brutal contest. El Diablo Blanco got burned by Matthew Knox, and now ‘The Raven’ is coming after Peter Vaughn, himself. But I have more at stake than even just vengeance for El D taking my golden locks.”
Larry looks more front and center at the camera, gritting his teeth as he considers the monumental grudge match ahead, and his hands ball into fists on the desk.
Larry Tact: “El Diablo Blanco and I? We’re both people who believe they can embody the heart and soul of a company. In Pro Wrestling Valor, I recently took down the very champion that represents the Spirit of the Fight, assuming that mantle. Here in TPW, it’s the THUNDERAMANIACS who keep me TPW Strong! But for El Diablo Blanco, his beliefs have the opposite to do with what the fans want. He wants to lead them to whatever business Peter Vaughn and the Cabal wants to grumble about handling. El D doesn’t have the spirit anymore to fuel the passion of TPW’s most faithful. But I do, and I’m going to formally remove El Diablo Blanco, a former American Champion, from his ever-tenuous hold on anything that represents this company. Because I am TPW Strong Enough to overcome his challenge, and he will be… Tactilized!”
With a handshake exchanged between Markson and Tact, we…
“We’ve seen several different, well, versions of you in your time with Thunder Pro Wrestling. We’ve also seen a different side of El Diablo Blanco emerge over the course of this year. Do you see any parallels between your respective changes?”
“At different times, I would have had different reactions to what we’ve seen in plain sight: The transformation of one El Diablo Blanco. To understand his place, though, is to understand the force TPW Strong has battled this entire year, in which El D claims as allies – the Cabal.”
A scene then comes into view, depicting shoppers leading a line out the door of Macy*s Herald Square, a Manhattan flagship store, waiting for Christmas pictures with Jolly Saint Nick himself. As families and eager fans of indulging in seasonal festivities gather, we see an elf peeking into the ‘Santa’s Village,’ except a banner reads, ‘Cabal’s Clubhouse.’ The elf scurries as a candy cane is thrown out of a hut in their general direction. Suddenly, we see a janitor’s clothing following out the door, and from the makeshift village comes ‘Santa,’ a slimmer type who only vaguely could resemble a certain TPW Champion. He makes a laborious effort to walk over to the lauded seat where his admirers can take a moment to stop by and chat. Above the seat is a simple banner with bold lettering: Visit TPW’s North Pole Champion
“What do these kids think I’m even going to give them? They need more than a miracle,” Santa grumbles.
Larry Tact (V/O): “El Diablo Blanco takes notes from a TPW Heavyweight Champion who’s most charitable contribution is to himself, by gifting the Cabal’s to himself. Yes, they all may have slight variations on what they’re doing at a given time, it’s no secret that they come together to take down any threat to his reign. Imagine if Santa were such a miscreant towards his fans…”
We see kids begin to come up to Santa Champ, and quickly realize their wishes are being largely ignored and, therefore, dashed. If any kids should so much as give the appearance they will be defiant or have a tear appear in their eye, Santa Champ gives them a swift boot to the rump, sending them tumbling down a chute into a pit of snowflakes. The novelty of such punishment even wears off, though, and Santa Champ waves an arm before he’s gotten through even half the line. He yawns, then picks up a dinner bell and shakes it, causing an annoying ringing.
Santa Champ: “Where is he? Bring me El Diavolo!.”
This is when we see a horn-masked luchador appear, resembling El D but clearly lacking the same level of conditioning. From one horn hangs a jingle bell, while the other is a miniature present box, wrapped neatly in green and red. He carries with him a silver platter.”
Santa Champ: “What took so long? I thought you were supposed to be crowd controlling, and keeping all the naughty children away!”
El Diavolo: “Here’s the thing, broth– er, Champ. None of the children met your criteria.”
Santa Champ looked with disgust at the significant remaining families and children.
Santa Champ: “Then what are these kids doing here?”
El Diavolo: *shrugs* “I didn’t want you to think no one cared about your appearance, Santa brother, so I went ahead and lined up people who I considered on my own list.”
Santa Champ looks horrified.
Santa Champ: “You used YOUR list? That’s absolutely ridiculous. I don’t have you around to tell me ideas. I have you around to get some easy jabs at these idiots while acting as my meat shield! Speaking of, where’s your trademark!”
El Diavolo looks down at the platter and hands it to Santa Champ, who pulls out a TPW Heavyweight Championship replica and lays it on his lap, setting the platter on it. He looks out with the most humbug scowl at the crowd, who are asking when visits with the Champ will resume, holding out memorabilia for autographs.
Santa Champ: “I don’t get paid by the hour, I’m eating!”
He opens the top of the platter to show a Shrimp fra Diavolo and begins digging in with utensils while El Diavolo stares.
El Diavolo: “Wouldn’t you want a ham this time of year, not a seafood? What does my trademark dish have to do with the holidays?”
Santa Champ: “Do you still not understand the Cabal? We deliver the exact opposite of what people want. That’s a lesson to you!”
Santa Champ grumbles while he nibbles on the shrimp, spitting it out.
Santa Champ: “As I expected, this is substandard, same as your results for the Cabal. Why did you even bother to make a list? What criteria did you even use??”
El Diavolo removes the small wrapped present from around one burnt horn, and opens it to remove a folded up piece of paper. He clears his throat.
El Diavolo: “Here are the main points, not in any order, brother Champ. Any child wanting to visit Santa Champ must prove three of the following five:
Cheated on a test.
Stolen candy from a baby.
Blamed someone else for something they did wrong.
Complained about losing a fair fight.
Has at least three friends who can vouch for the same."
Stolen candy from a baby.
Blamed someone else for something they did wrong.
Complained about losing a fair fight.
Has at least three friends who can vouch for the same."
‘El D’ looks proudly at Santa Champ, whose expression only sours as he scans the line again.
Santa Champ: “It sounds like all you’ve drawn here are Naughty children who bully and belittle others.”
El Diavolo: Yes! They’re the type of people who support me, brother. They’re my true fans, unlike the rest who betrayed my loyalty to them, and made me turn to the Cabal for a new attitude, Jack!”
‘El D’ is surprised to see Santa Champ is rubbing the bridge of his nose and groaning.
Santa Champ: “That’s great for you, but why would I want to have them sent to me in droves?! I don’t need to deal with brat after brat, and freshly minted bullies!”
El Diavolo: Okay, dude, but… I thought you’d be impressed by their attitudes, Santa brother.”
El Diavolo clearly has not impressed the Santa Champ, who sends his dish of Shrimp fra Diavolo into the masked face of the luchador. He then rips off white ‘beard’ and tosses it at Diavolo, and it sticks to the mess-covered mask before slowly falling off. Santa Champ looks at all of those gathered.
Santa Champ: “NEWSFLASH!!! Christmas is cancelled, chumps!”
The kids look around for a few moments, seeing devastated looks on the parents with them. Then some of them start squealing:
“Cool!”
“Ultimate Prank!!”
“Santa Champ is the best!”
“Ultimate Prank!!”
“Santa Champ is the best!”
El Diavolo looks at Santa Champ, whose jaw begins to drop.
El Diavolo: “Looks like you’re giving them a big treat this year, brother.”
Santa Champ: “No, I… that’s not what the Cabal wants at all!”
He sticks a crooked finger towards the sopping mask of ‘El D.’
Santa Champ: “Fix this!”
Santa Champ then storms off, back into the hut, slamming the door shut.
The shot zooms out slowly, as the image of El Diavolo wiping off his mask from the sloppy remains of his trademark dish fade. We see it was being shown on a video screen, and sitting on either side of it at a desk are Mark Markson, TPW’s lead commentator, and the wrestler we heard in voiceover earlier. Larry Tact has the studio lights reflecting off his shaved head, wearing a Giorgio Armani gray custom suit and slacks, accessorized by a blue tie with metallic stripes, along with a pair of Hugo Boss wingtips.
Mark Markson: “Clearly, you had a little fun here, Larry. But if I know anything about you, it’s that you come prepared. Regardless of the match, you seem ready and I know you don’t think El Diablo Blanco is a pushover.”
Larry offers a smirk, momentarily indicating the screen with a thumb.
Larry Tact: Damn right, Mark. El Diablo Blanco, the once-heroic and present pariah of the THUNDERAMANIACS, cost me quite a lot this year. He took my hair. He helped take my TPW International Championship. It’s no secret I was going to come back around to deal with him.”
He leans back and places his hands on the desk, nodding.
Larry Tact: But I was patient. I wanted El Diablo Blanco to be sure that, when I came around to collect on the receipts he owes me? He would understand the reality of what I have in store would be an epic beatdown. It wouldn’t be a match – it would be a fight. That’s why I took my time, and found just the right spot for him to be tactfully surrendered. The only place that really made sense for it has always been at Winter Wrestleland.”
Mark Markson: “Well, the time for waiting is expiring! This will be nothing less than a match that the Thunderamaniacs come in hot for, and it seems like you’re ready to bring just as much heat in the ring. But what about the Cabal? They’ve been a near constant intruder in your matches for months. You fought hard at War Games, but they ultimately did prevail.”
Larry Tact: You know, Markson, it’s a fact that ‘Thundering’ Terry Marshall’s team couldn’t overcome the Cabal at War Games. He threw in the towel for our safety. As much as I respect TM, here’s a #TactFact: I’m walking into Winter Wrestleland on my own. Team Marshall had a good run, but we’re not fooling anyone like the Cabal. We don’t need tricks to achieve our goals. We believe in each other’s talent individually as much as collectively. When it comes to me? I retired Bam Miller, buried him under bricks in a brutal contest. El Diablo Blanco got burned by Matthew Knox, and now ‘The Raven’ is coming after Peter Vaughn, himself. But I have more at stake than even just vengeance for El D taking my golden locks.”
Larry looks more front and center at the camera, gritting his teeth as he considers the monumental grudge match ahead, and his hands ball into fists on the desk.
Larry Tact: “El Diablo Blanco and I? We’re both people who believe they can embody the heart and soul of a company. In Pro Wrestling Valor, I recently took down the very champion that represents the Spirit of the Fight, assuming that mantle. Here in TPW, it’s the THUNDERAMANIACS who keep me TPW Strong! But for El Diablo Blanco, his beliefs have the opposite to do with what the fans want. He wants to lead them to whatever business Peter Vaughn and the Cabal wants to grumble about handling. El D doesn’t have the spirit anymore to fuel the passion of TPW’s most faithful. But I do, and I’m going to formally remove El Diablo Blanco, a former American Champion, from his ever-tenuous hold on anything that represents this company. Because I am TPW Strong Enough to overcome his challenge, and he will be… Tactilized!”
With a handshake exchanged between Markson and Tact, we…
FADE OUT
💲💲💲💲💲💲💲💲💲
#TACTFACTS
▲▲▲▲▲▲▲
