Post by codemana on Oct 13, 2015 21:04:33 GMT -5
A dusty old warehouse on the far industrial reaches of Vegas has been transformed into a makeshift classroom. At least a small corner of it. Reno Mustang has stuffed himself into one of those young person’s connected chair desk combos, not so comfortably as it was clearly made for a twelve year old. Across from him paces his usually numbskull goon Mr. Bellagio, now transformed by a wool overcoat complete with elbow patches, and a slick of pomade in his hair to, Professor Bellagio. Just behind him is a blackboard scrawled with what started as a play book example of x’s and o’s but has been ravaged by chalk and sharpie into a John Nash meets Jackson Pollack chaos of scribble. The Prof stops his back and forth and looks down on his student.
Bellagio: You sure you want to do it again? Your brain looks awful full.
Reno: A thousand times yes! I can’t let my mental facilities get groggy now. Bishop’s announcement doesn’t just have me tangling with the one man who can stop my reign of terror. But possibly one of a host of jackals just waiting to sink their teeth into me.
Prof. reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out what appears to be a small deck of cards. He fumbles them nervously and finally sits down at his own desk and chair he’s improvised from a card table and Bud Light inflatable throne. With a quick crack of his knuckles he folds the small deck a couple times, looks Reno dead in the eye, and flips up the first card. A makeshift stat sheet with a picture of a dreadlocked man at the center. Reno jumps to attention.
Reno: Kristof! Alias: the Vanilla alarm clock or something or other. Known whereabouts: fast food joints and wherever he’s decided to take a cat nap. Status: not very dangerous…yet.
Bellagio: Nicely done. Here comes another one.
The professor flips over another card. This one with two characters in the picture portion.
Reno: Easy! The Pimps! Two bad mother..
Bellagio: Shut yo mouth!
Reno: I’m just talking bout the Pimps.
Bellagio: Still can’t dig it.
Reno: And who could blame you! Known to fraternize with libidinous women they haven’t even paid for. Expecting title opportunities when there most dynamic ring work has been unjust police action. Only apparent weaknesses: DMC, watered down 3rd Bass remixes. OPP, mark ass trick ass sucka ass KY Jelly packin ass fools getting in the way of his cream.
Bellagio: You’re on a roll.
The B flips another card, depicting a creature small in stature surrounded by stars and nebulae.
Reno: Um…gas finger guy. No no that wasn’t a real guess. The one that can hide in your blind spot. Uh…shit i give up.
Bellagio: Sorry we were looking for 3rd kind.
Reno: Crap, i never would have got that one. He’s so easy to miss in the ring. Assuming you’ve hit any kind of a growth spurt.
Bellagio: Don’t let it get you down. Let’s get that flow going again. Here’s an easy one.
Bellagio flips another card. This one with the most finely detailed design work by far. Reno squints his beady eyes to make out a hooded man wreathed in blue, holding his hands shoulder length apart. Recognition nearly shocks him out of his chair-desk.
Reno: Jace! Uh…Mind Sculptor edition. Right? How’d you afford that? I don’t pay you shit.
Bellagio: I know. Had to sculpt more than my wallet for that one.
Bellagio rolls up one of his sleeves. His upper arm has a large bandage around it from a skin graft.
Reno: You donated your tattoos to science?
Bellagio: Just the infected one. Didn’t figure mom would mind since she’s in hooker heaven now. Plus i though it might liven up your studies.
Mustang blushes a bit at the gesture.
Reno: That’s really sweet of you teach. I’d like to return the favor and sell some portion of my body for your benefit, but i need all the skin i can muster if my hide is going to make it passed this next riot. And i’ve only got one kidney to begin with.
Bellagio: I understand. Get me back when you’ve got the organs to spare.
Reno: Will do. Glad to have a friend like you old chum. Doubly glad i didn’t go with my first guess of Blastoise.
Bellagio: Moving on.
He flips the final card over. It practically pops with vibrant colors, all emanating from an exquisitely excited man in the center. Reno’s expression becomes very grave. He stares deeply into the visage of his caricatured nemesis.
Reno: Buddy. Love. The once and, should the humanoids get their wish, future king. In spite of his growing senility, a formidable competitor. Only known weaknesses: glass bottles and the liquor therein.
Mustang begins biting a finger nail. Wracking his brain for more holes in his enemies defenses.
Reno: Known accomplices: a foot long fellow who…
Reno shoots up to his feet in ecstatic realization.
Reno: By the hoodoo milk that fed him! Eureka!
Bellagio is fairly bowled over by the sudden burst of energy. Mustang is now vibrating with devious intent. Skulking back and forth across the classroom carrying his chair-desk with him on his waist.
Reno: That’ it sensei! If we want to get to the big man we’ll have to start small. Didn’t Plato say something about that?
Bellagio: I’m not sure. I just like the smell of it.
Reno: Nevertheless. Wisdom is as wisdom does. And pal…
He shoots a malevolent grin towards Bellagio who shrinks just a bit at what it could portend.
Reno: We’re gonna wizz all over these dumbasses.
Professor B turns to where he can best figure an audience would sit for this kind of treatment, stretching the collar of his shirt to it’s breaking point.
Bellagio: Sheesh!
Bellagio: You sure you want to do it again? Your brain looks awful full.
Reno: A thousand times yes! I can’t let my mental facilities get groggy now. Bishop’s announcement doesn’t just have me tangling with the one man who can stop my reign of terror. But possibly one of a host of jackals just waiting to sink their teeth into me.
Prof. reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out what appears to be a small deck of cards. He fumbles them nervously and finally sits down at his own desk and chair he’s improvised from a card table and Bud Light inflatable throne. With a quick crack of his knuckles he folds the small deck a couple times, looks Reno dead in the eye, and flips up the first card. A makeshift stat sheet with a picture of a dreadlocked man at the center. Reno jumps to attention.
Reno: Kristof! Alias: the Vanilla alarm clock or something or other. Known whereabouts: fast food joints and wherever he’s decided to take a cat nap. Status: not very dangerous…yet.
Bellagio: Nicely done. Here comes another one.
The professor flips over another card. This one with two characters in the picture portion.
Reno: Easy! The Pimps! Two bad mother..
Bellagio: Shut yo mouth!
Reno: I’m just talking bout the Pimps.
Bellagio: Still can’t dig it.
Reno: And who could blame you! Known to fraternize with libidinous women they haven’t even paid for. Expecting title opportunities when there most dynamic ring work has been unjust police action. Only apparent weaknesses: DMC, watered down 3rd Bass remixes. OPP, mark ass trick ass sucka ass KY Jelly packin ass fools getting in the way of his cream.
Bellagio: You’re on a roll.
The B flips another card, depicting a creature small in stature surrounded by stars and nebulae.
Reno: Um…gas finger guy. No no that wasn’t a real guess. The one that can hide in your blind spot. Uh…shit i give up.
Bellagio: Sorry we were looking for 3rd kind.
Reno: Crap, i never would have got that one. He’s so easy to miss in the ring. Assuming you’ve hit any kind of a growth spurt.
Bellagio: Don’t let it get you down. Let’s get that flow going again. Here’s an easy one.
Bellagio flips another card. This one with the most finely detailed design work by far. Reno squints his beady eyes to make out a hooded man wreathed in blue, holding his hands shoulder length apart. Recognition nearly shocks him out of his chair-desk.
Reno: Jace! Uh…Mind Sculptor edition. Right? How’d you afford that? I don’t pay you shit.
Bellagio: I know. Had to sculpt more than my wallet for that one.
Bellagio rolls up one of his sleeves. His upper arm has a large bandage around it from a skin graft.
Reno: You donated your tattoos to science?
Bellagio: Just the infected one. Didn’t figure mom would mind since she’s in hooker heaven now. Plus i though it might liven up your studies.
Mustang blushes a bit at the gesture.
Reno: That’s really sweet of you teach. I’d like to return the favor and sell some portion of my body for your benefit, but i need all the skin i can muster if my hide is going to make it passed this next riot. And i’ve only got one kidney to begin with.
Bellagio: I understand. Get me back when you’ve got the organs to spare.
Reno: Will do. Glad to have a friend like you old chum. Doubly glad i didn’t go with my first guess of Blastoise.
Bellagio: Moving on.
He flips the final card over. It practically pops with vibrant colors, all emanating from an exquisitely excited man in the center. Reno’s expression becomes very grave. He stares deeply into the visage of his caricatured nemesis.
Reno: Buddy. Love. The once and, should the humanoids get their wish, future king. In spite of his growing senility, a formidable competitor. Only known weaknesses: glass bottles and the liquor therein.
Mustang begins biting a finger nail. Wracking his brain for more holes in his enemies defenses.
Reno: Known accomplices: a foot long fellow who…
Reno shoots up to his feet in ecstatic realization.
Reno: By the hoodoo milk that fed him! Eureka!
Bellagio is fairly bowled over by the sudden burst of energy. Mustang is now vibrating with devious intent. Skulking back and forth across the classroom carrying his chair-desk with him on his waist.
Reno: That’ it sensei! If we want to get to the big man we’ll have to start small. Didn’t Plato say something about that?
Bellagio: I’m not sure. I just like the smell of it.
Reno: Nevertheless. Wisdom is as wisdom does. And pal…
He shoots a malevolent grin towards Bellagio who shrinks just a bit at what it could portend.
Reno: We’re gonna wizz all over these dumbasses.
Professor B turns to where he can best figure an audience would sit for this kind of treatment, stretching the collar of his shirt to it’s breaking point.
Bellagio: Sheesh!