Mag Aluf and the Chamber of Secretions
Jul 23, 2020 20:18:34 GMT -5
Laci Valentine and Tokyo Vice like this
Post by Mag Aluf on Jul 23, 2020 20:18:34 GMT -5
We cut suddenly to the deep belly of a dark forest, it appears to be night on account of the darkness, however it’s difficult to gain a grasp of what time it is exactly as - strangely - no moon sits in whatever sky can be seen poking through the tall pine trees. The damp, muddy floor is obscured by a thick layer of mist, only a few rocks jutting from the ground can be seen breaking through.
The atmosphere could best be described as “heavy”, the type of atmosphere that finds itself permeating your lips and nesting down at the back of your throat, getting heavier with each gulp. The type that makes you hyper-aware that you are gulping and swallowing, which in turn makes you gulp heavier and starts the whole cycle again until you feel the weight on your chest, making it hard to breathe.
Suddenly the aforementioned rocks that jut through the mist begin to rumble slightly. A hand breaks it’s way up, followed by another.
Something - no, someone - is clambering their way through the thick condensation!
A thick pair of shoulders emerge next, then a chest and finally, a head. A head donning the instantly recognisable hair of one Irving B. Iza - The Cunt himself, Mag Aluf.
Mag jolts up with a sudden gasp for air, he kneels in the dirt, his whole being caked in moss, mud, leaves and the various other pieces of woodland that he seemed to have been unconscious in. He spits out a large clump of the substance covering the rest of his body, before vomiting another mass out and onto the floor. He coughs as he clears his mouth.
Mag Aluf
Yo, what the fuck, dog? Where the fuck?
The PartyHorse looks in all directions to try and survey his surroundings, unfortunately however forests are fucking boring and don’t tend to feature clear signage.
Mag Aluf slowly clambers to his feet, and wipes the remaining dirt from his eyes. He spots a small puddle, which he proceeds to use to look at his reflection.
Mag Aluf
My fuckin’ fresh cut bro... Fuck the ice caps, man, This nature shit fuckin’ blows.
Mag’s thought is interrupted by a rustling behind him, he turns quickly and readies himself to throw hands - I heard he once won a boxing match against a bear AND Mike Tyson in the Australian Outback whilst banging Kylie Minogue, even if it did come down to a points decision.
In reality, Mag quickly dives behind a nearby tree in retaliation to the rustling. The noise doesn’t sound large enough to be a bear, and as Mag slowly peeks from behind the tree, he sees that indeed the creature was much worse than a bear. It was a Midget.
The short man stared back at Aluf, who had thought he was hiding behind a tree when in reality it was nothing more than a branch.
Midget
Top ‘o da morn’ te ya fella!
The Irish Midget’s cheery, but sudden, speech obviously shocked the PartyHorse as he let out a high-pitched scream in response.
Mag Aluf
WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU, YOU FREAK?!
Before the midget can respond, Mag Aluf bolts towards him and lands a soccer kick straight into the man’s groin.
Midget
AGH! ME FOOKIN’ LUCKY CHARMS!
The midget is incapacitated and is hardly given a moment to recover before he finds himself being picked up by the Guido.
Mag Aluf
FUCK OFF RAPE DWARF!
Mag lets the midget drop from his clutch and meets him halfway down with another strong kick, pelting the midget back into the bush from whence he came. The midget lands with a crash and a squelch. Mag slowly proceeds towards the bush to inspect the damage.
The midget lays in a pile of branches, a particularly large one protrudes from his chest, covered in blood and sinew. Mag looks horrified.
Mag Aluf
Holy shit, bro. They ARE just like us on the inside.
The midget gasps for breath, but just a rattle sounds from his impaled chest.
Midget
K-Kill...Me…
Mag looks around for a second before quickly pulling the midget up from the sticks, removing him from the log he had been impaled on. He spots a small pool of water through a thin grove of trees. Mag quickly carries the midget over to the pool, fills his pockets with a few rocks laying on the ground and tosses him in. Mag wipes his hands against each other to signal a job well done.
Mag Aluf
Consider yourself Madeleine McCann’d, bro.
?
Chris? Chris are ye out here?
Mag turns in response to the voice, he spies another midget walking through the spot where he originally awoke. Mag makes his way back past the bush and out to greet the other midget. The midget doesn’t seem surprised to see The PartyHorse, actually he seems to have been expecting him.
Midget
Top ‘o de morn’ te ya! Ye mus’ be Mag, ey?
Mag blinks at him for a moment.
Mag Aluf
Bro, what the fuck are you even saying? I don’t speak Chinese dog.
Midget
Chinese? Feck de Chinese fella, Oim Oirish. Donnegall born an’ bred! All Leprechauns are!
Mag Aluf looks almost stunned at the notion that the man is a Leprechaun.
Mag Aluf
Leprechaun? Dog you got a pot of gold?
Leprechaun
Dat’s racist, fella! All Oirish stereotypes be nuttin’ but the ‘ole codswallop!
The Leprechaun spits as he pulls a potato from his pocket, takes a bite from it and seemingly drinks Guinness from it.
Leprechaun
Anyhoo fella, ye seen Chris? He’s de smallest an’ ugliest of de Leprechauns, he also has de worst personal hygiene te be frank wit’ ye.
Mag glances nervously in the direction of the pool before shaking his head in response to the question.
Leprechaun
Well, he were sent ta come get ye! Probably got lost on account o’ being so feckin’ dumb. Feck Chris.
Mag turns to the camera and winks.
Mag Aluf
Feck Chris.
He turns back to face the Leprechaun.
Leprechaun
We were told ye were lost out ‘ere, an dere’s someone dat want’s ta meet ye. Ye see, ye’ve found ye way te de Land O’ E-
Mag has already clocked out and is preoccupied with kicking a small pinecone on the ground. He interrupts the Leprechaun.
Mag Aluf
Bro hurry the fuck up, this shit is already at 1,062 words.
Leprechaun
The feck you on ab-
Mag Aluf
Let’s fuckin’ go already dog, I fuckin’ hate this gay nature shit.
With that, the Leprechaun pulls out a long flute from his magical bag (My uncle knew a similar trick) and begins to play a tune, in a flash of smoke the two disappear. The screen fades out.
When we return, The PartyHorse and the Leprechaun arrive in another puff of smoke at the gates to a large fantasy castle. Large emerald bricks adorn the palace, it truly is breathtaking. The Leprechaun plays another tune on his flute, causing the large gates to open in front of them. He points to the castle.
Leprechaun
Dere. Dere ye’ll find de King of Myth!
Mag nods and offers a small fist-bump.
Mag Aluf
You ain’t bad, dog. What’s your name?
The Leprechaun chuckles at the man, he pulls out his flute and begins to play.
Leprechaun
Ye can call me Perry.
With a short toot on his flute and a swish of his dick, Perry the Leprechaun disappears in another puff of smoke. Mag turns back to the gates and steps forward, making his way to the castle.
The dark green walls seem to reach past the clouds and only get taller as Mag gets closer to the castle. He throws the large, heavy wooden doors open and steps into the structure. He is greeted by an empty castle and silence. Aluf continues through the hall towards the long throne room, as he approaches the throne, he notices a hooded figure sitting upon it. The figure is fairly rotund, and a few wisps of a short beard poke from behind the shadow cast by the hood.
Mag Aluf
Ay Dog, you the King of Meth?
The hooded figure stays completely still, their guest has finally arrived. They let out a short chuckle.
King of Myth
Mag Aluf, The PartyHorse, The Cunt…
He rises from his throne and takes a few soft steps towards the Guido.
King of Myth
I have been expecting you. I imagine you have a few questions: Where are you? How did you get here? Who am I?
Mag Aluf
Do you have Meth?
King of Myth
I am a politician in command of a whole kingdom that requires my whole attention at all times… Of course I have Meth.
Mag Aluf
Sick.
The King walks past Aluf towards a large door, he motions for Mag to follow.
King of Myth
Firstly, there are a few things I must show you. I summoned you for a reason, Mag.
Mag begins to follow the King as they walk through the castle.
Mag Aluf
Bro, this is a sick Emerald City.
King of Myth
For legal reasons, it’s the Chartreuse Castle. I’m not paying Warner Bros. another fucking penny.
The pair arrive outside another large door adorned with a lavish cross. The King of Myth keeps his back to Mag whilst addressing him.
King of Myth
Mag, I have something important to tell you. And it will most definitely come as a shock however you need to hear this and you need to hear it from me.
Mag is currently busy staring at his phone however as he plays RAID: Shadow Legends.
Mag turns to face the camera once more, holding his phone up.
Mag Aluf
RAID: Shadow Legends™️ is an immersive online experience with everything you'd expect from a brand new RPG title. It's got an amazing storyline, awesome 3D graphics, giant boss fights, PVP battles, and hundreds of never before seen champions to collect and customize.
I never expected to get this level of performance out of a mobile game. Look how crazy the level of detail is on these champions!
RAID: Shadow Legends™️ is getting big real fast, so you should definitely get in early. Starting now will give you a huge head start. There's also an upcoming Special Launch Tournament with crazy prizes! And not to mention, this game is absolutely free!
So go ahead and check out the video description to find out more about RAID: Shadow Legends™️. There, you will find a link to the store page and a special code to unlock all sorts of goodies. Using the special code, you can get 50,000 Silver immediately, and a FREE Epic Level Champion as part of the new players program, courtesy of course of the RAID: Shadow Legends™️ devs.
King of Myth
Mag, you don’t actually exist.
Mag suddenly looks up from his phone, a look of disbelief on his face.
Mag Aluf
Bro, I can get Leprechauns. Emerald Cities ar-
King of Myth
Chartreuse Castle.
Mag Aluf
Chartreuse Castles are chill too, but saying I don’t exist? Fuck off, bro.
The King of Myth nods slightly.
King of Myth
I doubted you would believe me at first, that’s why I have brought you here...
The King waves a hand, causing the large door to creak open.
King of Myth
May I present to you: The Gimmick Graveyard.
Mag walks into the large, dark room. Dotted throughout the room are various beings, sickly-looking and almost nothing but bone. A few turn to stare at Mag as he walks past, although he struggles to look at their emaciated faces. The King of Myth walks next to Aluf, he stops and motions to a small, thin man with spiked hair, dressed in a singlet.
King of Myth
Meet Tyson Vega. He was the first gimmick to retire to this room.
The King of Myth walks over to a pair of equally-emaciated men. One looks like Brian Cage, with sagging skin where thick muscle once sat before it wasted away, the other a midget. Both have long black hair and wear vests saying “ADAM COLE BAYBAY”.
King of Myth
And here are two fairly new additions, Adam Smol and Adam Swole.
The PartyHorse throws up on Adam Smol.
King of Myth
Everyone of these “men” were once gimmicks and characters. Some were realised and some were thrown away as mere ideas.
The King places a hand on Mag’s shoulder.
King of Myth
Mag, you - and all of these beings - exist solely as a character in something called an E-Fed. You’re not real. Each week, your actions are written for you. Your whole backstory, all your thoughts and feelings, everyone you’ve ever known - all created by the mind of a 22-year old.
Mag holds his nose, shaking his head.
Mag Aluf
Nah Bro, you’re chatting shit cunt. I’m ready to go home now dog, just send me home bro.
The King leads them over to another man, this one again has long black hair, however he is adorned with tattoos and wears a pair of baggy black jeans.
The King of Myth
I speak the truth, Mag. I believe you’re already acquainted with this one.
The skinny man turns to face Mag, his eyes nothing more than sunken holes in his head. Despite how deformed the creature is, Mag instantly recognises them.
Mag Aluf
J...Jeff?
Jeff Hardy
M...Maaaaaagggg… Maaaaagggg…
The unnaturally skinny, pale-faced husk of Jeff Hardy reaches a boney finger out toward Mag, which he quickly backs away from whilst letting out short whimpers.
Mag Aluf
N-No, bro… You’re dead… Stop!
Mag trips over his own feet and lands hard on his back, The husks of past gimmicks begin to close in on the man. They hunger for a new face. Mag looks up to the King of Myth as he manically attempts to push himself back away from the hordes of husks.
Mag Aluf
W-Who the FUCK are you!?
The husk of Jeff grabs the Guido’s ankle and begins to claw its way up his legs as the others start to grasp his appendages.
King of Myth
Who am I? Mag, you know who I am.
The King of Myth slowly reaches up to his hood with both hands before gently bringing it back down over his head, revealing his face. Mag lets out a scream as he sees who the man is through the multiple bodies that are now crushing down on him.
King of Myth
Mag, I am you… Bro.
Mag stares into his own eyes until the masses of gimmick husks completely block out his vision and crush him under their weight. He closes his eyes as he feels his life slipping from him.
Mag Aluf
Jeff… I don’t want to go.
……..
……
…….
…….
Mag Aluf
WHAT THE FUCK BRO?!
Mag jolts awake, sitting up so quickly he knocks the bong that was resting on his chest onto the floor, smashing it.
Markus Alice
Ay Butty, you’re awake!
Mag looks around, hyperventilating quickly as he takes in his surroundings.
Mag Aluf
What the? Where am I? What happened, dog?
Markus Alice picks up the shards of glass on the floor and places them neatly on the table.
Markus Alice
It’s alright mate, You're back in the gym. You took a big fuckin’ whack to the head with a chair, thought you were fuckin’ dead to be honest mate.
Mag holds his head in his hands, wiping away the sweat. Markus Alice hands him a waterbottle.
Markus Alice
AWF doesn’t have insurance so I had to bring you back here, figured you’d want a bowl when you came to.
Mag takes a sip from the bottle but loudly spits it out in a mist instead of swallowing it.
Mag Aluf
The fuck is this shit bro? Water? Where’s my fuckin’ Smirnoff Ice bro? And doesn’t Canada have free healthcare?
Markus Alice shrugs before reaching down to the minifridge, opening it and removing two Smirnoff Ices. He pops the caps off and passes one to Mag, keeping one to himself.
Markus Alice
I’ll be honest, I had shit to do and the hospital has shite parking. Anyway you’re fine mate, you just look a little pale. Look like you saw a fuckin’ ghost butty.
Mag takes a sip of his alcopop and shakes his head to wake himself up.
Mag Aluf
Whatever bro, how long was I out anyway?
Markus Alice
About a week.
Mag Aluf
A fuckin’ WEEK?!
Markus Alice checks his watch.
Markus Alice
Just a little over actually, it’s Thursday.
Mag Aluf jumps up suddenly and rushes over to his locker.
Mag Aluf
Fuckin’ Thursday? Bro I gotta get to New York! That’s what? A 40-hour drive?!
Markus also gets to his feet again and removes his van keys from his pocket. He motions for the two to get moving.
Markus Alice
Well let’s go then man. Hey, I thought you didn’t really give a shit about wrestling?
Mag walks past Alice towards the door.
Mag Aluf
Bro, I ain’t going to the Gimmick Graveyard until I’m good and ready. I’m doing this shit on my terms.
Markus Alice pulls a confused face.
Markus Alice
The Gimmick what?
Mag Aluf
Don’t fuckin’ worry about it dog. Let’s just go, I’m gonna win that fuckin’ belt and I’m gonna throat-fuck the world with it. Fuck the King of Myth.
The PartyHorse hurries out of the door to the van, Markus Alice follows - shaking his head slightly.
Markus Alice
The King of Myth? How hard did that fatass hit you man?
The scene fades out as Alice also exits through the door after Mag Aluf.
The atmosphere could best be described as “heavy”, the type of atmosphere that finds itself permeating your lips and nesting down at the back of your throat, getting heavier with each gulp. The type that makes you hyper-aware that you are gulping and swallowing, which in turn makes you gulp heavier and starts the whole cycle again until you feel the weight on your chest, making it hard to breathe.
Suddenly the aforementioned rocks that jut through the mist begin to rumble slightly. A hand breaks it’s way up, followed by another.
Something - no, someone - is clambering their way through the thick condensation!
A thick pair of shoulders emerge next, then a chest and finally, a head. A head donning the instantly recognisable hair of one Irving B. Iza - The Cunt himself, Mag Aluf.
Mag jolts up with a sudden gasp for air, he kneels in the dirt, his whole being caked in moss, mud, leaves and the various other pieces of woodland that he seemed to have been unconscious in. He spits out a large clump of the substance covering the rest of his body, before vomiting another mass out and onto the floor. He coughs as he clears his mouth.
Mag Aluf
Yo, what the fuck, dog? Where the fuck?
The PartyHorse looks in all directions to try and survey his surroundings, unfortunately however forests are fucking boring and don’t tend to feature clear signage.
Mag Aluf slowly clambers to his feet, and wipes the remaining dirt from his eyes. He spots a small puddle, which he proceeds to use to look at his reflection.
Mag Aluf
My fuckin’ fresh cut bro... Fuck the ice caps, man, This nature shit fuckin’ blows.
Mag’s thought is interrupted by a rustling behind him, he turns quickly and readies himself to throw hands - I heard he once won a boxing match against a bear AND Mike Tyson in the Australian Outback whilst banging Kylie Minogue, even if it did come down to a points decision.
In reality, Mag quickly dives behind a nearby tree in retaliation to the rustling. The noise doesn’t sound large enough to be a bear, and as Mag slowly peeks from behind the tree, he sees that indeed the creature was much worse than a bear. It was a Midget.
The short man stared back at Aluf, who had thought he was hiding behind a tree when in reality it was nothing more than a branch.
Midget
Top ‘o da morn’ te ya fella!
The Irish Midget’s cheery, but sudden, speech obviously shocked the PartyHorse as he let out a high-pitched scream in response.
Mag Aluf
WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU, YOU FREAK?!
Before the midget can respond, Mag Aluf bolts towards him and lands a soccer kick straight into the man’s groin.
Midget
AGH! ME FOOKIN’ LUCKY CHARMS!
The midget is incapacitated and is hardly given a moment to recover before he finds himself being picked up by the Guido.
Mag Aluf
FUCK OFF RAPE DWARF!
Mag lets the midget drop from his clutch and meets him halfway down with another strong kick, pelting the midget back into the bush from whence he came. The midget lands with a crash and a squelch. Mag slowly proceeds towards the bush to inspect the damage.
The midget lays in a pile of branches, a particularly large one protrudes from his chest, covered in blood and sinew. Mag looks horrified.
Mag Aluf
Holy shit, bro. They ARE just like us on the inside.
The midget gasps for breath, but just a rattle sounds from his impaled chest.
Midget
K-Kill...Me…
Mag looks around for a second before quickly pulling the midget up from the sticks, removing him from the log he had been impaled on. He spots a small pool of water through a thin grove of trees. Mag quickly carries the midget over to the pool, fills his pockets with a few rocks laying on the ground and tosses him in. Mag wipes his hands against each other to signal a job well done.
Mag Aluf
Consider yourself Madeleine McCann’d, bro.
?
Chris? Chris are ye out here?
Mag turns in response to the voice, he spies another midget walking through the spot where he originally awoke. Mag makes his way back past the bush and out to greet the other midget. The midget doesn’t seem surprised to see The PartyHorse, actually he seems to have been expecting him.
Midget
Top ‘o de morn’ te ya! Ye mus’ be Mag, ey?
Mag blinks at him for a moment.
Mag Aluf
Bro, what the fuck are you even saying? I don’t speak Chinese dog.
Midget
Chinese? Feck de Chinese fella, Oim Oirish. Donnegall born an’ bred! All Leprechauns are!
Mag Aluf looks almost stunned at the notion that the man is a Leprechaun.
Mag Aluf
Leprechaun? Dog you got a pot of gold?
Leprechaun
Dat’s racist, fella! All Oirish stereotypes be nuttin’ but the ‘ole codswallop!
The Leprechaun spits as he pulls a potato from his pocket, takes a bite from it and seemingly drinks Guinness from it.
Leprechaun
Anyhoo fella, ye seen Chris? He’s de smallest an’ ugliest of de Leprechauns, he also has de worst personal hygiene te be frank wit’ ye.
Mag glances nervously in the direction of the pool before shaking his head in response to the question.
Leprechaun
Well, he were sent ta come get ye! Probably got lost on account o’ being so feckin’ dumb. Feck Chris.
Mag turns to the camera and winks.
Mag Aluf
Feck Chris.
He turns back to face the Leprechaun.
Leprechaun
We were told ye were lost out ‘ere, an dere’s someone dat want’s ta meet ye. Ye see, ye’ve found ye way te de Land O’ E-
Mag has already clocked out and is preoccupied with kicking a small pinecone on the ground. He interrupts the Leprechaun.
Mag Aluf
Bro hurry the fuck up, this shit is already at 1,062 words.
Leprechaun
The feck you on ab-
Mag Aluf
Let’s fuckin’ go already dog, I fuckin’ hate this gay nature shit.
With that, the Leprechaun pulls out a long flute from his magical bag (My uncle knew a similar trick) and begins to play a tune, in a flash of smoke the two disappear. The screen fades out.
When we return, The PartyHorse and the Leprechaun arrive in another puff of smoke at the gates to a large fantasy castle. Large emerald bricks adorn the palace, it truly is breathtaking. The Leprechaun plays another tune on his flute, causing the large gates to open in front of them. He points to the castle.
Leprechaun
Dere. Dere ye’ll find de King of Myth!
Mag nods and offers a small fist-bump.
Mag Aluf
You ain’t bad, dog. What’s your name?
The Leprechaun chuckles at the man, he pulls out his flute and begins to play.
Leprechaun
Ye can call me Perry.
With a short toot on his flute and a swish of his dick, Perry the Leprechaun disappears in another puff of smoke. Mag turns back to the gates and steps forward, making his way to the castle.
The dark green walls seem to reach past the clouds and only get taller as Mag gets closer to the castle. He throws the large, heavy wooden doors open and steps into the structure. He is greeted by an empty castle and silence. Aluf continues through the hall towards the long throne room, as he approaches the throne, he notices a hooded figure sitting upon it. The figure is fairly rotund, and a few wisps of a short beard poke from behind the shadow cast by the hood.
Mag Aluf
Ay Dog, you the King of Meth?
The hooded figure stays completely still, their guest has finally arrived. They let out a short chuckle.
King of Myth
Mag Aluf, The PartyHorse, The Cunt…
He rises from his throne and takes a few soft steps towards the Guido.
King of Myth
I have been expecting you. I imagine you have a few questions: Where are you? How did you get here? Who am I?
Mag Aluf
Do you have Meth?
King of Myth
I am a politician in command of a whole kingdom that requires my whole attention at all times… Of course I have Meth.
Mag Aluf
Sick.
The King walks past Aluf towards a large door, he motions for Mag to follow.
King of Myth
Firstly, there are a few things I must show you. I summoned you for a reason, Mag.
Mag begins to follow the King as they walk through the castle.
Mag Aluf
Bro, this is a sick Emerald City.
King of Myth
For legal reasons, it’s the Chartreuse Castle. I’m not paying Warner Bros. another fucking penny.
The pair arrive outside another large door adorned with a lavish cross. The King of Myth keeps his back to Mag whilst addressing him.
King of Myth
Mag, I have something important to tell you. And it will most definitely come as a shock however you need to hear this and you need to hear it from me.
Mag is currently busy staring at his phone however as he plays RAID: Shadow Legends.
Mag turns to face the camera once more, holding his phone up.
Mag Aluf
RAID: Shadow Legends™️ is an immersive online experience with everything you'd expect from a brand new RPG title. It's got an amazing storyline, awesome 3D graphics, giant boss fights, PVP battles, and hundreds of never before seen champions to collect and customize.
I never expected to get this level of performance out of a mobile game. Look how crazy the level of detail is on these champions!
RAID: Shadow Legends™️ is getting big real fast, so you should definitely get in early. Starting now will give you a huge head start. There's also an upcoming Special Launch Tournament with crazy prizes! And not to mention, this game is absolutely free!
So go ahead and check out the video description to find out more about RAID: Shadow Legends™️. There, you will find a link to the store page and a special code to unlock all sorts of goodies. Using the special code, you can get 50,000 Silver immediately, and a FREE Epic Level Champion as part of the new players program, courtesy of course of the RAID: Shadow Legends™️ devs.
King of Myth
Mag, you don’t actually exist.
Mag suddenly looks up from his phone, a look of disbelief on his face.
Mag Aluf
Bro, I can get Leprechauns. Emerald Cities ar-
King of Myth
Chartreuse Castle.
Mag Aluf
Chartreuse Castles are chill too, but saying I don’t exist? Fuck off, bro.
The King of Myth nods slightly.
King of Myth
I doubted you would believe me at first, that’s why I have brought you here...
The King waves a hand, causing the large door to creak open.
King of Myth
May I present to you: The Gimmick Graveyard.
Mag walks into the large, dark room. Dotted throughout the room are various beings, sickly-looking and almost nothing but bone. A few turn to stare at Mag as he walks past, although he struggles to look at their emaciated faces. The King of Myth walks next to Aluf, he stops and motions to a small, thin man with spiked hair, dressed in a singlet.
King of Myth
Meet Tyson Vega. He was the first gimmick to retire to this room.
The King of Myth walks over to a pair of equally-emaciated men. One looks like Brian Cage, with sagging skin where thick muscle once sat before it wasted away, the other a midget. Both have long black hair and wear vests saying “ADAM COLE BAYBAY”.
King of Myth
And here are two fairly new additions, Adam Smol and Adam Swole.
The PartyHorse throws up on Adam Smol.
King of Myth
Everyone of these “men” were once gimmicks and characters. Some were realised and some were thrown away as mere ideas.
The King places a hand on Mag’s shoulder.
King of Myth
Mag, you - and all of these beings - exist solely as a character in something called an E-Fed. You’re not real. Each week, your actions are written for you. Your whole backstory, all your thoughts and feelings, everyone you’ve ever known - all created by the mind of a 22-year old.
Mag holds his nose, shaking his head.
Mag Aluf
Nah Bro, you’re chatting shit cunt. I’m ready to go home now dog, just send me home bro.
The King leads them over to another man, this one again has long black hair, however he is adorned with tattoos and wears a pair of baggy black jeans.
The King of Myth
I speak the truth, Mag. I believe you’re already acquainted with this one.
The skinny man turns to face Mag, his eyes nothing more than sunken holes in his head. Despite how deformed the creature is, Mag instantly recognises them.
Mag Aluf
J...Jeff?
Jeff Hardy
M...Maaaaaagggg… Maaaaagggg…
The unnaturally skinny, pale-faced husk of Jeff Hardy reaches a boney finger out toward Mag, which he quickly backs away from whilst letting out short whimpers.
Mag Aluf
N-No, bro… You’re dead… Stop!
Mag trips over his own feet and lands hard on his back, The husks of past gimmicks begin to close in on the man. They hunger for a new face. Mag looks up to the King of Myth as he manically attempts to push himself back away from the hordes of husks.
Mag Aluf
W-Who the FUCK are you!?
The husk of Jeff grabs the Guido’s ankle and begins to claw its way up his legs as the others start to grasp his appendages.
King of Myth
Who am I? Mag, you know who I am.
The King of Myth slowly reaches up to his hood with both hands before gently bringing it back down over his head, revealing his face. Mag lets out a scream as he sees who the man is through the multiple bodies that are now crushing down on him.
King of Myth
Mag, I am you… Bro.
Mag stares into his own eyes until the masses of gimmick husks completely block out his vision and crush him under their weight. He closes his eyes as he feels his life slipping from him.
Mag Aluf
Jeff… I don’t want to go.
……..
……
…….
…….
Mag Aluf
WHAT THE FUCK BRO?!
Mag jolts awake, sitting up so quickly he knocks the bong that was resting on his chest onto the floor, smashing it.
Markus Alice
Ay Butty, you’re awake!
Mag looks around, hyperventilating quickly as he takes in his surroundings.
Mag Aluf
What the? Where am I? What happened, dog?
Markus Alice picks up the shards of glass on the floor and places them neatly on the table.
Markus Alice
It’s alright mate, You're back in the gym. You took a big fuckin’ whack to the head with a chair, thought you were fuckin’ dead to be honest mate.
Mag holds his head in his hands, wiping away the sweat. Markus Alice hands him a waterbottle.
Markus Alice
AWF doesn’t have insurance so I had to bring you back here, figured you’d want a bowl when you came to.
Mag takes a sip from the bottle but loudly spits it out in a mist instead of swallowing it.
Mag Aluf
The fuck is this shit bro? Water? Where’s my fuckin’ Smirnoff Ice bro? And doesn’t Canada have free healthcare?
Markus Alice shrugs before reaching down to the minifridge, opening it and removing two Smirnoff Ices. He pops the caps off and passes one to Mag, keeping one to himself.
Markus Alice
I’ll be honest, I had shit to do and the hospital has shite parking. Anyway you’re fine mate, you just look a little pale. Look like you saw a fuckin’ ghost butty.
Mag takes a sip of his alcopop and shakes his head to wake himself up.
Mag Aluf
Whatever bro, how long was I out anyway?
Markus Alice
About a week.
Mag Aluf
A fuckin’ WEEK?!
Markus Alice checks his watch.
Markus Alice
Just a little over actually, it’s Thursday.
Mag Aluf jumps up suddenly and rushes over to his locker.
Mag Aluf
Fuckin’ Thursday? Bro I gotta get to New York! That’s what? A 40-hour drive?!
Markus also gets to his feet again and removes his van keys from his pocket. He motions for the two to get moving.
Markus Alice
Well let’s go then man. Hey, I thought you didn’t really give a shit about wrestling?
Mag walks past Alice towards the door.
Mag Aluf
Bro, I ain’t going to the Gimmick Graveyard until I’m good and ready. I’m doing this shit on my terms.
Markus Alice pulls a confused face.
Markus Alice
The Gimmick what?
Mag Aluf
Don’t fuckin’ worry about it dog. Let’s just go, I’m gonna win that fuckin’ belt and I’m gonna throat-fuck the world with it. Fuck the King of Myth.
The PartyHorse hurries out of the door to the van, Markus Alice follows - shaking his head slightly.
Markus Alice
The King of Myth? How hard did that fatass hit you man?
The scene fades out as Alice also exits through the door after Mag Aluf.