Fortune Cookie Say…
[Open at a Chinese food restaurant. Misty Waters and Trey Vincent are seated at a table in the mostly empty restaurant. Misty breaks a fortune cookie in half.]
MW: Fortune cookie say, “Help, I’m being held prisoner in a Chinese bakery!” What’s yours?
[Trey doesn't respond.]
MW: Trey?
TV: Huh? Oh. Right.
[Trey breaks his fortune cookie in half.]
TV: Your present plants are going to succeed? The fuck?
MW: Does that mean SMP’s going to beat you and Kevin the Pyromaniac for the tag titles at Totally Dead?
TV: I don’t know. It wasn’t a capital P. But hey, like Death said, I’m the toughest champion in the game today.
MW: Why does Death keep saying that sort of stuff about you? Because you’re writing his promos?
TV: Probably. But he could actually mean it. Waiter?
Waiter: Yes?
TV: Can I get a Yoohoo?
Waiter: … Yoohoo?
TV: Yeah, the drink.
Waiter: We don’t carry Yoohoo, sir.
TV: What a shock. Nobody does. Thanks. Go away.
[He does.]
TV: Yoohoo. I was watching Rachael Ray the other day. And she showed how you make Yoohoo. It’s really simple. You get a kiddie pool, fill it up with water, and then she strips down, gets in, and takes a giant shit in the pool. Then she mixes it around and tosses in some butter.
MW: What?
TV: Cilantro.
MW: What?
TV: Cloves.
MW: What the hell are you talking about?
TV: Then she rolls around in her own filthy concoction, and then they bottle it.
MW: Trey?
TV: Yes?
MW: That didn’t happen.
TV: Are you sure?
MW: Positive. You must have been dreaming again. She isn’t some hardcore porn cook.
TV: Well, she should be.
MW: You frighten me.
TV: Hey, look! Kevin the Pyromaniac’s here, and he’s doing his impersonation of a Luke Warm rant!
[The camera cuts toward the doorway. It's empty.]
TV: Bravo! Bravo, Kevin. Luke Warm. You wanted the tag titles, you got your shot. Your bad luck? It’s against BOB Vice President In Charge of Everything. So, unless you happen to get Kevin in the ring, you have NO shot of taking this title from me. You’ve only just begun to feel my booking wrath, boys. You want screwjobs? I got screwjobs. There is no way in Minnesota that I’ll ever give you two a NO DQ, no countout sort of match, so these belts will be mine for a long time.
MW: You shouldn’t take SMP lightly, Trey.
TV: I’m not. I’m taking Luke Warm lightly. When I was dirtying diapers, SMP was becoming the Dirtiest Boobie Enhancer in the game today. When Heidi was doing porn, I was just starting to jerk off to it. When they were in the STWF, I didn’t have an ISP connection.
MW: Your point?
TV: They’re old?
MW: Been done.
TV: How about this. SMP is creatively bankrupt. He’s admitted as much in his promos. And you know what hurts the most? He didn’t ask ME to write his promos. He asked some guy named Leary? What is THAT?
MW: Got me…
TV: Well, Plants. As a matter of fact, since I am a former private investigator and have some friends in law enforcement, I’ve put out a warrant for your brain. I’ve also issue an all points bulletin. So if anybody has seen Plants’s brain, please, call your local police department. Alright, let’s finish this.
[Trey breaks another fortune cookie. This one is green for some reason.]
TV: It’s green because it’s a Trey Vincent fortune cookie. Let’s see here…Trey Vincent say you have no chance of winning the Not Good Enough To Fight Alone Tag Titles. Well, there you go, Sil, Luke. I couldn’t sum it up any better than that fortune cookie just did. So I won’t.
MW: Hey, what about Mr. Paradox and Dr. Thrilla? And did Little Good tell you who Soem Guy–
[Static.]
[Dr. Silaconne M. Plants is in a bar with Brianne Warm, Luke's older sister, drinking a YooHoo when Trey's promo comes on.]
SMP: GAK!
BW: What?
SMP: I didn’t know YooHoo had chunks, now it all makes sense!
BW: No, you just have to shake it real good before you drink. Hey, why am I in this promo and not Heidi?
SMP: I dunno. I guess she’s out shooting a porno or something. It seems to be the general consensus lately. I do the promos, she does the pornos, or something to the effect.
[SMP throws his YooHoo into the trash.]
BW: Hey, what did you do that for?
SMP: I just can’t get that image of Rachael Ray pinching a loaf into a kiddie pool. Dammit, Trey!
BW: Yeah, Trey sure is a jerk. He tried to proposition me to let Luke back into BOB.
SMP: You must have said no, because I haven’t seen Luke since I dropped him at New Horizon. That reminds me, how did Trey and Kevin end up with the belts? I thought that angle was over? What happened to booger?
BW: Too many questions! I’m from Bumbledink, remember?
SMP: Okay, I’m going to make this simple. Where in the hell is Luke? And I guess I’m going to have to read New Horizon again, closely this time without skimming, to find out what is going on.
BW: I guess…
[A generic bartender walks up and pours Brianne another Amaretto.]
SMP: Bartender, a fortune cookie, please?
Bartender: Dude, this is a bar. Not an almost empty Chinese restaurant.
SMP: Work with me here, will ya?
Bartender: Okay, hold on a minute.
[The bartender goes to a nearby table and retrieves SMP a peanut from one of the several bowls throughout the bar.]
Bartender: This is the best I can do.
BW: You found your brain! The all points bulletin worked!
SMP: Hold up, whose side are you on?
[SMP cracks open the peanut.]
SMP: There’s an inscription. Find Rachael Ray, and read the message on her chocolate hotdog. It all ties in together.
[SMP scratches his chin]
SMP: What the hell?
CAPTION:
SEVERAL HOURS LATER
RACHAEL RAY’S TOILET
[SMP is looking into the bowl.]
SMP: I can’t see a thing. Where’s my glasses? I can’t read shit without my glasses.
[He looks closer. Squints, and begins reading the turd. ]
SMP: What’s this? “Where do you think those peanuts come from”? The hell?
CAPTION:
BACK AT THE BAR
BW: How’d it go?
SMP: Uh-rah, don’t eat the peanuts.
BW: Okay. Why?
SMP: Just don’t eat the peanuts.
BW: Okay. While you were gone, I got a fortune cookie for you.
SMP: Let me see it, this could be the answer to Totally Dead and Luke and I, as much as I hate him, winning the tag-team titles.
[She hands it to him. He opens it and begins to read.]
SMP: “He who eat peanut, see it rater. He who eat Rachael Ray peanut rearry stoopid”.
BW: I don’t get it.
SMP: Nobody gets it. Better put out another APB for my brain. But Trey, I’ve been winning matches for years without a brain. I’ve been winning titles for years without a brain. I don’t need a brain to beat you. All I need is a STONECUTTER. Come on, Luke! You rat bastard! Show up and let’s win these things. I forgive you for being a dumbass that never post rants! Just one, just one is all we need! I can’t do it alone, obviously from this you can tell.
COME ON, MAN!
[SMP gets on his knees like he’s praying.]
SMP: COME ON, MAN! COME ON! DON’T LEAVE ME, COME BACK!
Bartender: Sir? You have to go. You’re scaring the customers…
SMP: Come on, you rotten no-showing bastard!
Bartender: Security!
[They drag him out mercifully….]