Post by thefastfoodmafia on Apr 19, 2024 13:53:18 GMT -5
Somewhere on a lonely stretch of road, a small faded red Honda Civic, its check engine light long ignored, trudges towards the direction of Madison Wisconsin. While nowhere near as Iconic as the Oscar Myer Weinermobile it does boast the privilege of belonging to the Fast Food Mafia, TPW’s newest Tag Team, and its Irish spitfire manager Wendy Brannigan.
The Technical/Highflyer of the crew, Red Headed Ron Mcdonald sits behind the wheel, friendly and easy-going he looks over at the Muscular powerhouse of the group Brian B King, Brian may be a little slow and a step behind but Ron Loves him like a Brother, Brian is currently trying to smooth out his soft brown hair as the two of them prepare for their first “Professional” Interview.
Looking in the rearview Mirror Ron casts a questioning look to their “Manager” Wendy Brannigan, the red-haired woman was gamely cursing at her cell phone as she tried to get the “record” function working, victorious a moment later she holds up the phone pointing it at Ron.
(On Camera)
Wendy: Thunder Pro Wrestling! Guess who’s coming to dinner! It’s the Fast Food Mafia! And let me tell you something, my boys are hungry! Not in a supersize my fries because I missed breakfast kind of way but a Hunger for their first-ever professional win in TPW! Now if you’ll cast your gaze to the Ginger that I can confirm has a soul in the front seat You’ll see Ron McDonald! The Master of the Burgercarana! Say hey Ronnie!
Ron: Hey TPW!
Wendy: And if you turn your head to the right towards the muscular work of art sitting in the passenger seat you’ll see Brian B King! Our powerhouse wrestler that’ll tenderize you quicker than you can say “Angus Beef Patty!” Tell em what’s good Brian!
The larger man blushes slightly, he runs his fingers through his hair before putting a well-worn Burgerking crown on his head before speaking to the camera.
Brian: Uhh gee Wenny I dunno about the work of art part but I’m glad to meet you TPW! Uhh, I can’t wait to see you all on the twenty-sixth!
Wendy turns the camera back to face her.
Wendy: And then you’ve got me! The one who puts the “Value” in Value Meal! The One that gives you good vibrations like a Marky Mark video! If we were in Westeros you could call me “The Mother of Burgers!” I’m Wendy Brannigan! And I’ve got a message for our opponents this week “Jack and Berreta Blade”
Wendy: First of all I’ve got nothing but respect for a father-daughter tag team, you’ve already got me beat because “your” Pa gave enough of a shite about ya to stick around, but the way I see it? That’s the only way you’ve got us beat, I’ve studied what’s available on ya. You fancy yourself a Wrestler and a Rapper and frankly, I’m not intimidated by your skills or your bars, don’t get me wrong darlin you look like a damn Amazon moving around in that ring, I respect strength and a great rack when I see it, but I’m still convinced my Boys have the moves and the teamwork to roll you up like a crunch wrap supreme.
Wendy turns the camera back to her boys who give her a thumbs up, before turning the camera back to herself.
Wendy: And you don’t have to worry about me Darlin, I don’t tend to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, I’m not a wrestler you see, however, if I see you or your Pa pullin any sneaky Hamburglin moves when the ref aint lookin…well let’s just say I’m not afraid to put you in your place, You wouldn’t be the first Boganella I’ve slapped senseless.
Wendy: Well TPW, fortunately for John and Berreta Blade my phone battery is about to die, but before I go I want to make sure everyone in the TPW Audience comes hungry! Because The Fast Food Mafia is gonna satisfy your craving for Wrestling!
(Off Camera)
They’ve been traveling together for almost two years now, held together by the kind of trust that comes from knowing each other's eccentricities and realizing you all come from the same tribe of crazy.
One particular way they amuse themselves is the two-year-long war between Brian and Wendy, relegated to an observer and perhaps chronicler of these brief but violent clashes Ron has learned to recognize the signs…
Celebrating their first professional interview with lunch, the siren call of Burgerking pulls them off the main road, When Brian orders an extra large Coke Ron knows the first volley is not far off, and Wendy, confident in her ability orders a medium Coke.
Rolling the windows down to enjoy the nice spring day they tuck in, Brian savoring mouthful after mouthful of fries, he washes them down with a long pull from his Coke and three more long gulps, a moment later he births a violent belch that Ron classifies as “Jackhammer during rush hour traffic in New York City” level of volume.
Ron watches in numb fascination as the smallest piece of chewed french fry arcs gracefully from Brian's mouth, glistening like a diamond with saliva in the afternoon sun it attaches itself to the dashboard and clings there as if determined to enjoy the spring weather as much as they are, in the parking lot a seagull takes desperate flight voiding its bowels in its haste to flee what must be the wrath of god in its tiny avian mind, another unfortunate, undignified victim caught the crossfire of this senseless conflict.
Both Ron and Brian glance at the rearview mirror to gauge Wendy's reaction, she takes a small sip of her Coke and cocks her head to the side.
Wendy: Eh…not bad…not bad at all, so how’s it feel boys? Our first professional gig! You can’t return to bingo halls and high school gyms after you hit the big time!
And now the game begins…
Ronald: I don’t think we’ll be welcome back into any bingo halls after what you did to that ref.
Wendy: Oh he’ll get over it, besides! Haven’t you ever wanted to lay out your boss on your way out the door after you got a better job offer?
The meal finished they return to the solitude of the road, Brian wincing as he remembers how their last job ended.
Brian: Uhh…Wenny you called him a blind zebra and kicked him really hard…in the jewels.
Wendy: He’d been starin at my arse all night, I’m amazed he remembered how to count to three, I could tell by the way everyone was eyeballin us that they were thinking of some way to screw us out of what they owed us…the pricks, look we’re dealin with the pros now boys, they’ve got a Financial department and people in fancy suits doin their jobs backstage, not a dented cashbox with a shite lock on it and some ex-biker type with a Hunting knife guarding the thing.
They drive in silence digesting this new information, none of them were strangers to being shorted on cash or outright screwed over, over the last two years the number of times they’d had to sleep in the car made even the sleaziest motels look good by comparison, suddenly Wendy breaks the silence.
Wendy: Hey is that a deer?
Ron should recognize the misdirection, it’s Wendy’s way, as he hits the brakes looking for the imagined creature Wendy erupts.
The noise that thunders from the backseat could only be described as an ancient Lovecraftian horror being awoken from its slumber and angrily announcing its presence to the world, Ron screams inadvertently stepping on the gas and jerking the wheel, never the religious type Ron nevertheless hopes Jesus would take the wheel for a moment because the demonic belch from the backseat has the animal survival part of his brain gibbering like mad and fleeing for safety, looking for a tree to climb where it can sit in and fling it’s poo in self-defense.
When he becomes aware again they are miraculously in one piece, half off the road, Ron trembling as the adrenaline leaves his body, Brian blinking like he just had an out-of-body experience, Wendy is holding her sides, doubled over she cackles maniacally
Wendy: GOTCHA! That’s what you get for challenging the greatest Brian! AHAHAHA! Oh my god, I think Ron SHAT himself!
Shoulders trembling a burst of Hysterical laughter bubbles out of Ron that quickly turns to sincere laughter, Brian snaps out of his daze and shakes his head in amazement.
Brian: Uhh DAMN WENNY!
When Ron feels sane enough to drive they pull back onto the road, pausing her giggles Wendy issues their marching orders.
Wendy: Onward Boys! Madison Wisconsin awaits!
The Technical/Highflyer of the crew, Red Headed Ron Mcdonald sits behind the wheel, friendly and easy-going he looks over at the Muscular powerhouse of the group Brian B King, Brian may be a little slow and a step behind but Ron Loves him like a Brother, Brian is currently trying to smooth out his soft brown hair as the two of them prepare for their first “Professional” Interview.
Looking in the rearview Mirror Ron casts a questioning look to their “Manager” Wendy Brannigan, the red-haired woman was gamely cursing at her cell phone as she tried to get the “record” function working, victorious a moment later she holds up the phone pointing it at Ron.
(On Camera)
Wendy: Thunder Pro Wrestling! Guess who’s coming to dinner! It’s the Fast Food Mafia! And let me tell you something, my boys are hungry! Not in a supersize my fries because I missed breakfast kind of way but a Hunger for their first-ever professional win in TPW! Now if you’ll cast your gaze to the Ginger that I can confirm has a soul in the front seat You’ll see Ron McDonald! The Master of the Burgercarana! Say hey Ronnie!
Ron: Hey TPW!
Wendy: And if you turn your head to the right towards the muscular work of art sitting in the passenger seat you’ll see Brian B King! Our powerhouse wrestler that’ll tenderize you quicker than you can say “Angus Beef Patty!” Tell em what’s good Brian!
The larger man blushes slightly, he runs his fingers through his hair before putting a well-worn Burgerking crown on his head before speaking to the camera.
Brian: Uhh gee Wenny I dunno about the work of art part but I’m glad to meet you TPW! Uhh, I can’t wait to see you all on the twenty-sixth!
Wendy turns the camera back to face her.
Wendy: And then you’ve got me! The one who puts the “Value” in Value Meal! The One that gives you good vibrations like a Marky Mark video! If we were in Westeros you could call me “The Mother of Burgers!” I’m Wendy Brannigan! And I’ve got a message for our opponents this week “Jack and Berreta Blade”
Wendy: First of all I’ve got nothing but respect for a father-daughter tag team, you’ve already got me beat because “your” Pa gave enough of a shite about ya to stick around, but the way I see it? That’s the only way you’ve got us beat, I’ve studied what’s available on ya. You fancy yourself a Wrestler and a Rapper and frankly, I’m not intimidated by your skills or your bars, don’t get me wrong darlin you look like a damn Amazon moving around in that ring, I respect strength and a great rack when I see it, but I’m still convinced my Boys have the moves and the teamwork to roll you up like a crunch wrap supreme.
Wendy turns the camera back to her boys who give her a thumbs up, before turning the camera back to herself.
Wendy: And you don’t have to worry about me Darlin, I don’t tend to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, I’m not a wrestler you see, however, if I see you or your Pa pullin any sneaky Hamburglin moves when the ref aint lookin…well let’s just say I’m not afraid to put you in your place, You wouldn’t be the first Boganella I’ve slapped senseless.
Wendy: Well TPW, fortunately for John and Berreta Blade my phone battery is about to die, but before I go I want to make sure everyone in the TPW Audience comes hungry! Because The Fast Food Mafia is gonna satisfy your craving for Wrestling!
(Off Camera)
They’ve been traveling together for almost two years now, held together by the kind of trust that comes from knowing each other's eccentricities and realizing you all come from the same tribe of crazy.
One particular way they amuse themselves is the two-year-long war between Brian and Wendy, relegated to an observer and perhaps chronicler of these brief but violent clashes Ron has learned to recognize the signs…
Celebrating their first professional interview with lunch, the siren call of Burgerking pulls them off the main road, When Brian orders an extra large Coke Ron knows the first volley is not far off, and Wendy, confident in her ability orders a medium Coke.
Rolling the windows down to enjoy the nice spring day they tuck in, Brian savoring mouthful after mouthful of fries, he washes them down with a long pull from his Coke and three more long gulps, a moment later he births a violent belch that Ron classifies as “Jackhammer during rush hour traffic in New York City” level of volume.
Ron watches in numb fascination as the smallest piece of chewed french fry arcs gracefully from Brian's mouth, glistening like a diamond with saliva in the afternoon sun it attaches itself to the dashboard and clings there as if determined to enjoy the spring weather as much as they are, in the parking lot a seagull takes desperate flight voiding its bowels in its haste to flee what must be the wrath of god in its tiny avian mind, another unfortunate, undignified victim caught the crossfire of this senseless conflict.
Both Ron and Brian glance at the rearview mirror to gauge Wendy's reaction, she takes a small sip of her Coke and cocks her head to the side.
Wendy: Eh…not bad…not bad at all, so how’s it feel boys? Our first professional gig! You can’t return to bingo halls and high school gyms after you hit the big time!
And now the game begins…
Ronald: I don’t think we’ll be welcome back into any bingo halls after what you did to that ref.
Wendy: Oh he’ll get over it, besides! Haven’t you ever wanted to lay out your boss on your way out the door after you got a better job offer?
The meal finished they return to the solitude of the road, Brian wincing as he remembers how their last job ended.
Brian: Uhh…Wenny you called him a blind zebra and kicked him really hard…in the jewels.
Wendy: He’d been starin at my arse all night, I’m amazed he remembered how to count to three, I could tell by the way everyone was eyeballin us that they were thinking of some way to screw us out of what they owed us…the pricks, look we’re dealin with the pros now boys, they’ve got a Financial department and people in fancy suits doin their jobs backstage, not a dented cashbox with a shite lock on it and some ex-biker type with a Hunting knife guarding the thing.
They drive in silence digesting this new information, none of them were strangers to being shorted on cash or outright screwed over, over the last two years the number of times they’d had to sleep in the car made even the sleaziest motels look good by comparison, suddenly Wendy breaks the silence.
Wendy: Hey is that a deer?
Ron should recognize the misdirection, it’s Wendy’s way, as he hits the brakes looking for the imagined creature Wendy erupts.
The noise that thunders from the backseat could only be described as an ancient Lovecraftian horror being awoken from its slumber and angrily announcing its presence to the world, Ron screams inadvertently stepping on the gas and jerking the wheel, never the religious type Ron nevertheless hopes Jesus would take the wheel for a moment because the demonic belch from the backseat has the animal survival part of his brain gibbering like mad and fleeing for safety, looking for a tree to climb where it can sit in and fling it’s poo in self-defense.
When he becomes aware again they are miraculously in one piece, half off the road, Ron trembling as the adrenaline leaves his body, Brian blinking like he just had an out-of-body experience, Wendy is holding her sides, doubled over she cackles maniacally
Wendy: GOTCHA! That’s what you get for challenging the greatest Brian! AHAHAHA! Oh my god, I think Ron SHAT himself!
Shoulders trembling a burst of Hysterical laughter bubbles out of Ron that quickly turns to sincere laughter, Brian snaps out of his daze and shakes his head in amazement.
Brian: Uhh DAMN WENNY!
When Ron feels sane enough to drive they pull back onto the road, pausing her giggles Wendy issues their marching orders.
Wendy: Onward Boys! Madison Wisconsin awaits!