Post by Ray Harlan on Jan 15, 2015 1:58:11 GMT
Ray Harlan: "*HACKHACK* Why the hell ain't this loadin' up faster!?"
(The camera cuts to a wide shot of the Harlan Family Household. More specifically, the basement. It is littered with Ray Harlan's dirty laundry, wrinkled shirts and jeans, dirty socks, used napkins and tissues, and paper plates with half eaten food on them, along with crumbled up candy wrappers and potato chip bags. The nearly violent sound of someone coughing up plhem are echoed throughout the entire house, as the camera pans to see Ray Harlan sitting at his computer, angerily. Ray is wearing a white t-shirt, blue gym shorts and white socks, and Ray looks like crap. More than usual. Our big lovable oaf has the flu today, which is quite obvious from his Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer styled nose, which has small pieces of tissue paper lodged inside both nostrils, so that his muscus doesn't drip to his shirt, and the open packet of Coricidin Cough & Flu medicine on his nightstand that holds his computer. Ray is hunched over, and is not too happy with what he sees on his computer.)
Ray Harlan: "This is bull*HACK*shit! I've been downloadin' this fuckin' thing fer nearly three hours now; And it's still at forty percent! I knew I should'a jus' brought it offa Steam!"
(Ray is referring to his copy of Dragon Age: Inquisition, that he brought the other day, before he came down with the flu. Ray's uncle Phil gave him a fifty dollar Visa gift certificate for his birthday, which really surprised Ray since he didn't know his uncle even had fifty dollars to his name. What's even more surprising was getting a present from his uncle, who never gives him any birthday or Christmas presents. Yesterday wasn't actually Ray's birthday, he was born in July, but what Uncle Phil doesn't know won't hurt him. Ray walked a few miles to the local Gamestop in Omaha to purchase Dragon Age, which might be the reason why he has the cold in the first place, it's less than twenty degrees out in Omaha, and Ray only wore a sweater over a long sleeve shirt and sweatpants when he went out to get it.
BANG! The sound of Ray's fist hitting the desk in frustration is the latest in loud sounds vibrating throughout the basement, but at least it's not Ray sneezing, wheezing, or coughing. The camera cuts to a shot of the door opening up, and Ray's Momma peeking downstairs. She walks down the steps and stops at the last step to get Ray's attention.)
Momma Harlan: "Raymond, are you feelin' any better honey?"
Ray Harlan: "No, not really Momma."
Momma Harlan: "Okay dear, I'll call up the doctor and schedule an appointment, hopefully fer later today. If not, I'll try to getcha in first thing tommorow mornin'."
Ray Harlan: "I got work fer tommrorah Momma."
Momma Harlan: "Then you'll hafta call out sick honey, don't wantcha to get any of yer co-workers sick, right?"
Ray Harlan: "Actually, yeah I do wanna Momma. Most of the people in Toys R Us are completely anti-social dicks. Especially Rodrigo. He took the Cuban Sandwich that you made me fer lunch last week and ate it, even when I left a note on top of it that specifically said "Ray Harlan's lunch, do not eat unless you are Ray Harlan". And last time I checked that midget ain't named Ray Harlan, he's named Rodrigo Santos!"
Momma Harlan: "Well too bad Raymond! Yer gonna hafta call out sick if I can't get you in later today!"
(Momma turns around and walks upstairs and out of view from the camera, as Ray shakes his head and turns over to his computer. What Ray sees is something that will raise his blood pressure, moreso than all of the candy that he's eaten so far.)
Ray Harlan: "THIRTY PERCENT!? IT WAS FORTY NOT TWO SECONDS AGO! THIS IS *HACKHACKHACK* SUCH CRAP!"
(Ray's phone, which is seated on the table, begins to vibrate. The caller ID on the phone states "Carson". Carson Ridley is a childhood friend of Ray's, dating back to the first grade. They're both forty three, work at Toys R Us, and have never had any further aspirations in life. Ray picks up the phone, unlocks it and then answers it.)
Ray Harlan: "Hey Carson."
Carson Ridley: "Hey Ray! Where the hell are you man!?"
Ray Harlan: "Home. Why you ask?"
Carson Ridley: "You said you were gonna come over and play NBA2K with me! What the hell gives man!?"
Ray Harlan: "Carson, I--*HACK* I can't man, I have the flu, I've been coughin' all day, I feel like shit man."
Carson Ridley: "Oh, nevermind then. That sounds pretty shitty."
Ray Harlan: "Yeah, an' I got a fatal four way match fer the RWD comin' up in a few days. I really hope this flu goes away 'er else I'll probably lose the damn match."
Carson Ridley: "RWD? Aren't those what the Iraqis have?"
(As you can clearly see, Carson is not the brightest bulb of the bunch. He makes Ray look like Aristotle.)
Ray Harlan: "No Carson, those 'er WMDs, Weapons of Mass Destruction that the Iraqis had. Allegedly."
Carson Ridley: "Well what the hell is RWD?"
Ray Harlan: "Carson, I told you this before, the RWD is the Revolutionary Wrestlin' Division. They base 'emselves out of the south, *HACKHACK* jus' like the UWL, so it makes easy travel fer me goin back an' forth between the two."
Carson Ridley: "Oh right. Fergot you told me that. Why are you in a four way?"
Ray Harlan: "'cause it's gonna be a really cool match, that's why. Travis Rech, the guy that owns RWD, put me in a match with these three guys, Hayden Phoenix, Prince Assad an' Kruzer."
Carson Ridley: "The fuck are those guys? Never heard of 'em before."
Ray Harlan: "Yeah well, you don't follow wrestlin' Carson, so of course you never heard of 'em. Hayden Phoenix and Prince Assad are two guys who 'er goin' after each other, Assad has had the upper hand I think, he's tied with two different people fer twelve points in his Contest of Conquest standin', which is gonna determine the *HACKHACK* World Heavyweight Champ. Assad is a cheap sumbitch, the kind of guy that will beat you to a pulp, be it with his fists or a illegal weapon, he don't care one god damn bit about the rules, he only cares about bein' on top, no matter what cost. He don't even care about me 'er Kruzer in this match, he just wants to murder Phoenix. This guy's one crazy bastard, I gotta keep *HACK* an eye on him."
Carson Ridley: "What about the other two douchebags?"
Ray Harlan: "Well, they ain't douchebags, far as I know it. I mean, *HACK* I beat Hayden Phoenix a month ago or so, and before that he said that he actually likes me, which is odd. He's the first person I've gone up against that actually doesn't completely hate me. Guys usually make fun of me fer livin' with my momma, that's usually just *HACKHACKHACK* jealous 'cause they momma's don't love them know more, or they never had one. I like Phoenix back, but when it comes down to it, I'm gonna put my feelin's fer everyone aside, whether I like 'em or hate 'em, I'm gonna make sure that I take whatever advantage I see, legally of course, and use that to my advantage."
Carson Ridley: "...such as?"
Ray Harlan: "Such as, Assad and Phoenix may pummel each other so bad, that it's jus' me an' Kruzer left in the ring. *HACK* Maybe Assad beats Phoenix up so bad that I can throw Kruzer and Assad outta the ring and hit Hayden with a quick body splash. Maybe me an' Phoenix can double team Assad. I dunno, shit like that."
Carson Ridley: "What about Gruber?"
Ray Harlan: "...Kruzer?"
Carson Ridley: "Yeah sure whatever, that guy. What about him?"
Ray Harlan: "I dunno. When I left the RWD 'cause of my shoulder injury, was about the time he showed *HACKHACK* up on the scene, I think. I dunno much about that guy, so he's sorta a wildcard. He may factor into the match, he may not."
Carson Ridley: "So you know nothing about him and are gonna do nothing about him. Sound strategy."
Ray Harlan: "*HACKHACK*, Ah whatever Carson. I've never had a strategy goin' into a match since I started wrestlin' about six 'er seven months ago. I've been a TV champ and a Match of the Year winner, so it's worked out jus' fine fer me."
Carson Ridley: "So I take it yer not comin' over today?"
Ray Harlan: "No Carson! Did you not listen to me at all!?"
Carson Ridley: "ALRIGHTALRIGHTALRIGHT! God, I was just makin' sure!"
Ray Harlan: "'kay. See you later Carson."
Carson Ridley: "Alright then, good luck on yer match fatass."
(Ray hangs up the phone and lays it back onto the desk. He takes the tissue papers out from his nostrils and tosses them in the nearby trashcan. He looks back at the computer screen, and simply cannot believe what he is seeing.)
Ray Harlan: "TEN PERCENT!? FUCK YOU!"
FADE TO BLACK
(The camera cuts to a wide shot of the Harlan Family Household. More specifically, the basement. It is littered with Ray Harlan's dirty laundry, wrinkled shirts and jeans, dirty socks, used napkins and tissues, and paper plates with half eaten food on them, along with crumbled up candy wrappers and potato chip bags. The nearly violent sound of someone coughing up plhem are echoed throughout the entire house, as the camera pans to see Ray Harlan sitting at his computer, angerily. Ray is wearing a white t-shirt, blue gym shorts and white socks, and Ray looks like crap. More than usual. Our big lovable oaf has the flu today, which is quite obvious from his Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer styled nose, which has small pieces of tissue paper lodged inside both nostrils, so that his muscus doesn't drip to his shirt, and the open packet of Coricidin Cough & Flu medicine on his nightstand that holds his computer. Ray is hunched over, and is not too happy with what he sees on his computer.)
Ray Harlan: "This is bull*HACK*shit! I've been downloadin' this fuckin' thing fer nearly three hours now; And it's still at forty percent! I knew I should'a jus' brought it offa Steam!"
(Ray is referring to his copy of Dragon Age: Inquisition, that he brought the other day, before he came down with the flu. Ray's uncle Phil gave him a fifty dollar Visa gift certificate for his birthday, which really surprised Ray since he didn't know his uncle even had fifty dollars to his name. What's even more surprising was getting a present from his uncle, who never gives him any birthday or Christmas presents. Yesterday wasn't actually Ray's birthday, he was born in July, but what Uncle Phil doesn't know won't hurt him. Ray walked a few miles to the local Gamestop in Omaha to purchase Dragon Age, which might be the reason why he has the cold in the first place, it's less than twenty degrees out in Omaha, and Ray only wore a sweater over a long sleeve shirt and sweatpants when he went out to get it.
BANG! The sound of Ray's fist hitting the desk in frustration is the latest in loud sounds vibrating throughout the basement, but at least it's not Ray sneezing, wheezing, or coughing. The camera cuts to a shot of the door opening up, and Ray's Momma peeking downstairs. She walks down the steps and stops at the last step to get Ray's attention.)
Momma Harlan: "Raymond, are you feelin' any better honey?"
Ray Harlan: "No, not really Momma."
Momma Harlan: "Okay dear, I'll call up the doctor and schedule an appointment, hopefully fer later today. If not, I'll try to getcha in first thing tommorow mornin'."
Ray Harlan: "I got work fer tommrorah Momma."
Momma Harlan: "Then you'll hafta call out sick honey, don't wantcha to get any of yer co-workers sick, right?"
Ray Harlan: "Actually, yeah I do wanna Momma. Most of the people in Toys R Us are completely anti-social dicks. Especially Rodrigo. He took the Cuban Sandwich that you made me fer lunch last week and ate it, even when I left a note on top of it that specifically said "Ray Harlan's lunch, do not eat unless you are Ray Harlan". And last time I checked that midget ain't named Ray Harlan, he's named Rodrigo Santos!"
Momma Harlan: "Well too bad Raymond! Yer gonna hafta call out sick if I can't get you in later today!"
(Momma turns around and walks upstairs and out of view from the camera, as Ray shakes his head and turns over to his computer. What Ray sees is something that will raise his blood pressure, moreso than all of the candy that he's eaten so far.)
Ray Harlan: "THIRTY PERCENT!? IT WAS FORTY NOT TWO SECONDS AGO! THIS IS *HACKHACKHACK* SUCH CRAP!"
(Ray's phone, which is seated on the table, begins to vibrate. The caller ID on the phone states "Carson". Carson Ridley is a childhood friend of Ray's, dating back to the first grade. They're both forty three, work at Toys R Us, and have never had any further aspirations in life. Ray picks up the phone, unlocks it and then answers it.)
Ray Harlan: "Hey Carson."
Carson Ridley: "Hey Ray! Where the hell are you man!?"
Ray Harlan: "Home. Why you ask?"
Carson Ridley: "You said you were gonna come over and play NBA2K with me! What the hell gives man!?"
Ray Harlan: "Carson, I--*HACK* I can't man, I have the flu, I've been coughin' all day, I feel like shit man."
Carson Ridley: "Oh, nevermind then. That sounds pretty shitty."
Ray Harlan: "Yeah, an' I got a fatal four way match fer the RWD comin' up in a few days. I really hope this flu goes away 'er else I'll probably lose the damn match."
Carson Ridley: "RWD? Aren't those what the Iraqis have?"
(As you can clearly see, Carson is not the brightest bulb of the bunch. He makes Ray look like Aristotle.)
Ray Harlan: "No Carson, those 'er WMDs, Weapons of Mass Destruction that the Iraqis had. Allegedly."
Carson Ridley: "Well what the hell is RWD?"
Ray Harlan: "Carson, I told you this before, the RWD is the Revolutionary Wrestlin' Division. They base 'emselves out of the south, *HACKHACK* jus' like the UWL, so it makes easy travel fer me goin back an' forth between the two."
Carson Ridley: "Oh right. Fergot you told me that. Why are you in a four way?"
Ray Harlan: "'cause it's gonna be a really cool match, that's why. Travis Rech, the guy that owns RWD, put me in a match with these three guys, Hayden Phoenix, Prince Assad an' Kruzer."
Carson Ridley: "The fuck are those guys? Never heard of 'em before."
Ray Harlan: "Yeah well, you don't follow wrestlin' Carson, so of course you never heard of 'em. Hayden Phoenix and Prince Assad are two guys who 'er goin' after each other, Assad has had the upper hand I think, he's tied with two different people fer twelve points in his Contest of Conquest standin', which is gonna determine the *HACKHACK* World Heavyweight Champ. Assad is a cheap sumbitch, the kind of guy that will beat you to a pulp, be it with his fists or a illegal weapon, he don't care one god damn bit about the rules, he only cares about bein' on top, no matter what cost. He don't even care about me 'er Kruzer in this match, he just wants to murder Phoenix. This guy's one crazy bastard, I gotta keep *HACK* an eye on him."
Carson Ridley: "What about the other two douchebags?"
Ray Harlan: "Well, they ain't douchebags, far as I know it. I mean, *HACK* I beat Hayden Phoenix a month ago or so, and before that he said that he actually likes me, which is odd. He's the first person I've gone up against that actually doesn't completely hate me. Guys usually make fun of me fer livin' with my momma, that's usually just *HACKHACKHACK* jealous 'cause they momma's don't love them know more, or they never had one. I like Phoenix back, but when it comes down to it, I'm gonna put my feelin's fer everyone aside, whether I like 'em or hate 'em, I'm gonna make sure that I take whatever advantage I see, legally of course, and use that to my advantage."
Carson Ridley: "...such as?"
Ray Harlan: "Such as, Assad and Phoenix may pummel each other so bad, that it's jus' me an' Kruzer left in the ring. *HACK* Maybe Assad beats Phoenix up so bad that I can throw Kruzer and Assad outta the ring and hit Hayden with a quick body splash. Maybe me an' Phoenix can double team Assad. I dunno, shit like that."
Carson Ridley: "What about Gruber?"
Ray Harlan: "...Kruzer?"
Carson Ridley: "Yeah sure whatever, that guy. What about him?"
Ray Harlan: "I dunno. When I left the RWD 'cause of my shoulder injury, was about the time he showed *HACKHACK* up on the scene, I think. I dunno much about that guy, so he's sorta a wildcard. He may factor into the match, he may not."
Carson Ridley: "So you know nothing about him and are gonna do nothing about him. Sound strategy."
Ray Harlan: "*HACKHACK*, Ah whatever Carson. I've never had a strategy goin' into a match since I started wrestlin' about six 'er seven months ago. I've been a TV champ and a Match of the Year winner, so it's worked out jus' fine fer me."
Carson Ridley: "So I take it yer not comin' over today?"
Ray Harlan: "No Carson! Did you not listen to me at all!?"
Carson Ridley: "ALRIGHTALRIGHTALRIGHT! God, I was just makin' sure!"
Ray Harlan: "'kay. See you later Carson."
Carson Ridley: "Alright then, good luck on yer match fatass."
(Ray hangs up the phone and lays it back onto the desk. He takes the tissue papers out from his nostrils and tosses them in the nearby trashcan. He looks back at the computer screen, and simply cannot believe what he is seeing.)
Ray Harlan: "TEN PERCENT!? FUCK YOU!"
FADE TO BLACK
so quickly so sad!
