Post by Jove Belane on Jun 5, 2017 22:46:12 GMT -5
PONY.
There’s a flash and you’re face to face with Harvey Lohman. Behind him, you can see only red. The upward view gives him a god like presence, despite his outward appearance of ‘hipster jerk’. His cheshire grin is matched only by his eyes--their glow somehow magnified by the thick lenses of his black horn rimmed glasses.
“I cherish you, one and all. I thank you for joining us this evening. Charmed, as always. The last time we met at Lights Out, my client fell just a step short of earning himself at, as it would turn out, a shot at the Championship belt. Pity, am I right? Ah well, unlike many, my client, Jove Belane doesn’t feel discouragement. He simply sits down like a dutiful little quarterback on monday morning and he studies the tape. He looks at what he did wrong. He finds ways to do it better, ‘next time’.”
The camera zooms out slightly to frame in Harvey’s shoulders. He steps forward and the camera pans around to reveal that he’s standing within a grand penthouse apartment. In the background, just barely blurred, you can make out the presence of Jove Belane, seated at a bar with a rich red countertop. He’s smoking a cigarette.
“How dangerous, Jove Belane. He doesn’t think about the consequences of his bad behavior. Cancer aside, he doesn’t seem to be the least bit concerned with the laws regarding smoking inside in California.”
Harvey shows a toothy smile now as he shrugs his shoulders.
“This feeble and regretful human form only affords us so many days upon this earth. What Jove does with his--that’s his business. I’m sure Aokigahara and Kimitsu could relate. Both seem bent on self destruction, or the destruction of others. How quaint. Fight Club fan roll call!”
Harvey holds a hand up,
“I for one am a huge fan of Fight Club. All of Chuck’s books, for that matter. All of those little nuances. Oh my god, right? ‘Self improvement is masturbation’, all that..”
Harvey drops his arm to his side and suddenly looks a bit cross.
“That’s not for me. Not for me at all. My favorite tale Chuck told was one called Lullaby. Why? Well, it’s a stellar work of fiction...and...it’s an excellent segway into Jove’s speech about putting Kimi to sleep at Light’s Out. Right? See what I did there?”
He chuckles,
“Oh and before I go, I must stay, stellar effort thus far, Union members. It would be such an easy jab to assault Jove over his name and you haven’t. Up until now, of course. Congratulations.”
Harvey begins a slow clap before stopping abruptly, keeping his hands pressed together. His eyes narrow.
“Just remember, Jove or Jupiter both come from the term, Jovis. This is, for those lacking a classical education, latin, meaning ‘Sky god or bright god of heaven’. Yes. Some argue that the name Jehovah, or Yahweh, derived from this term. The moral to this story, everyone, is that ‘Jove’ is the name for god. Prepare for judgement.”
Harvey winks as he steps out of the way of the camera. The camera travels across the penthouse apartment and circles around the bar. Finally the camera comes to a stop to give a clear view of Jove as he puts out his cigarette and looks up. He speaks intimately, as if he’s speaking to a trusted bartender.
“First, let’s get this out of the way, when I think of Kimitsu, I think of a song. The song is called Pony.”
Jove reaches for a remote and hits play. The song begins playing, not too loud to drown him out, but loud enough to clearly make out the words.
“Kimi has a lot more history with this organization than I do. She’s ‘come back to stake her flag and claim Union as her own’ much in the same way tyrants and imperialists drew a demilitarized zone between the Northern and Southern halves of her homeland. How’s that working out for them?”
He lets out a scoff and the cameraman hands him a drink. It’s whiskey-neat. He wets his lips.
“Global conflicts aside, Kimitsu has returned to Union Battleground because she wants to be noticed. She’s no longer complacent and claims she has limitless potential. She expounds on her own prowess at length, almost as if she’s written it down in a cute notebook covered in stickers and memorized it. The key is, she wants to be seen--she wants to be known. She wants to bask in the glow of the fans and her peers. She’s that pretty pony looking to hook up.”
He takes another sip and pulls out another cigarette.
“This urge she has is no different than the urge an unnoticed girl feels when she wants attention. She puts on the right clothes, the right makeup, and she puts herself out there. She wants to be noticed. She wants to be the spectacle. Yes, this is all the result of her deep insecurities. Deep seeded insecurities. I could point the proverbial finger at Aoki and say that he’s the center of this insecurity. The guy takes punches for five dollars, right? He’s always showing off when she’s around--stealing her spotlight. How is this possible? She’s the cute one, right? She’s the shiny one with all of the potential, but still, she hasn’t found her niche. Insecure and lonely, she is.”
Jove lights up his smoke.
“California regulations be damned. I don’t know if you know this, or care, but the woman I both love and hate is currently in an intensive care unit. Her child is asleep in a crib in my bedroom and I’m not father material. Also, don’t talk to me about fucking smoking right now. When the time comes, I’ll shoot one of those PSA’s about smoking like I’m Yul Brynner coughing up my last lung. My woes aside, I’m not the one putting myself out there, putting the ‘cart before the pony’ claiming Union Battleground for myself when I haven’t done a thing to earn it.”
He ashes his cigarette.
“Yes, I knocked Azrael into the past. You and I were both surprised when we realized my finisher had the capability to achieve time-travel. That aside, I fell short of the big win, when I watched my match decided without me. That shit will happen, but it doesn’t alter my resolve.”
He exhales and makes room for another gulp of whiskey.
“Our cutsie little pony, Kimi, is going to tell you that the battleground won’t be able to survive her, but this is merely Kimi confirming that she’s ignorant to what’s going on around her. Union was the strong organization it is, right now, before she ever arrived. It will be the same strong organization it currently is, when she starts to chafe from all the rubbing. The only thing she currently has going for her is the fact that her previous promotion, AWE, went down the drain. She can pin her lack of success on that fact. Well played, if you ask me. Either way you slice it, she’s a seven passing herself off as a ten with that caked on makeup and ‘look at me’ attitude.”
“Is the girl getting the message yet?”
He exhales through his nose.
“Every time Kimitsu steps out onto her stage, she’s dropping her little panties and she’s rubbing one out. She wants that attention and she’ll get it anyway she can. In her case, she’s doing so with masturbation. Nearly every word escaping her lips highlights this activity. She’s going to crush her opponents. She’s going to intimidate. She’s going to take over. So on and so forth. I need not explain further. It’s all masturbatory and self-congratulatory.”
He lets out a little laugh.
“I’ve had this conversation with Azrael already. My match with Kimitsu will not be as final as she’d like you to believe. We will walk away from the match, no matter who wins. I will be left with the reality that all I’ve really learned is that Kimitsu has worked southern slang into her vocabulary. ‘Y’all’ and ‘ain’t’. Where did this come from? It doesn’t matter. Kimitsu won’t get me killed. All she’s going to do is leave me wondering if I should be disgusted or aroused.”
Jove finishes his whiskey and butts out his cigarette.
“Now I’m going to speak to you directly, Kimitsu. If there is anything to learn when we meet at Lights Out, it will be humility. You will be so focused on your self-imposed prowess that you won’t learn it, but still, it’s something to scribble in your notebook. If I am to be your teacher, I suggest you make sure Aoki has your sticker covered notebook, ringside so he can take notes. You need to be knocked down a peg and I figure I’m the guy to do it. Why? Well, I’m at the bottom, Pony. I’ll give you a glimpse of just how far you can fall.”
END.
There’s a flash and you’re face to face with Harvey Lohman. Behind him, you can see only red. The upward view gives him a god like presence, despite his outward appearance of ‘hipster jerk’. His cheshire grin is matched only by his eyes--their glow somehow magnified by the thick lenses of his black horn rimmed glasses.
“I cherish you, one and all. I thank you for joining us this evening. Charmed, as always. The last time we met at Lights Out, my client fell just a step short of earning himself at, as it would turn out, a shot at the Championship belt. Pity, am I right? Ah well, unlike many, my client, Jove Belane doesn’t feel discouragement. He simply sits down like a dutiful little quarterback on monday morning and he studies the tape. He looks at what he did wrong. He finds ways to do it better, ‘next time’.”
The camera zooms out slightly to frame in Harvey’s shoulders. He steps forward and the camera pans around to reveal that he’s standing within a grand penthouse apartment. In the background, just barely blurred, you can make out the presence of Jove Belane, seated at a bar with a rich red countertop. He’s smoking a cigarette.
“How dangerous, Jove Belane. He doesn’t think about the consequences of his bad behavior. Cancer aside, he doesn’t seem to be the least bit concerned with the laws regarding smoking inside in California.”
Harvey shows a toothy smile now as he shrugs his shoulders.
“This feeble and regretful human form only affords us so many days upon this earth. What Jove does with his--that’s his business. I’m sure Aokigahara and Kimitsu could relate. Both seem bent on self destruction, or the destruction of others. How quaint. Fight Club fan roll call!”
Harvey holds a hand up,
“I for one am a huge fan of Fight Club. All of Chuck’s books, for that matter. All of those little nuances. Oh my god, right? ‘Self improvement is masturbation’, all that..”
Harvey drops his arm to his side and suddenly looks a bit cross.
“That’s not for me. Not for me at all. My favorite tale Chuck told was one called Lullaby. Why? Well, it’s a stellar work of fiction...and...it’s an excellent segway into Jove’s speech about putting Kimi to sleep at Light’s Out. Right? See what I did there?”
He chuckles,
“Oh and before I go, I must stay, stellar effort thus far, Union members. It would be such an easy jab to assault Jove over his name and you haven’t. Up until now, of course. Congratulations.”
Harvey begins a slow clap before stopping abruptly, keeping his hands pressed together. His eyes narrow.
“Just remember, Jove or Jupiter both come from the term, Jovis. This is, for those lacking a classical education, latin, meaning ‘Sky god or bright god of heaven’. Yes. Some argue that the name Jehovah, or Yahweh, derived from this term. The moral to this story, everyone, is that ‘Jove’ is the name for god. Prepare for judgement.”
Harvey winks as he steps out of the way of the camera. The camera travels across the penthouse apartment and circles around the bar. Finally the camera comes to a stop to give a clear view of Jove as he puts out his cigarette and looks up. He speaks intimately, as if he’s speaking to a trusted bartender.
“First, let’s get this out of the way, when I think of Kimitsu, I think of a song. The song is called Pony.”
Jove reaches for a remote and hits play. The song begins playing, not too loud to drown him out, but loud enough to clearly make out the words.
“Kimi has a lot more history with this organization than I do. She’s ‘come back to stake her flag and claim Union as her own’ much in the same way tyrants and imperialists drew a demilitarized zone between the Northern and Southern halves of her homeland. How’s that working out for them?”
He lets out a scoff and the cameraman hands him a drink. It’s whiskey-neat. He wets his lips.
“Global conflicts aside, Kimitsu has returned to Union Battleground because she wants to be noticed. She’s no longer complacent and claims she has limitless potential. She expounds on her own prowess at length, almost as if she’s written it down in a cute notebook covered in stickers and memorized it. The key is, she wants to be seen--she wants to be known. She wants to bask in the glow of the fans and her peers. She’s that pretty pony looking to hook up.”
He takes another sip and pulls out another cigarette.
“This urge she has is no different than the urge an unnoticed girl feels when she wants attention. She puts on the right clothes, the right makeup, and she puts herself out there. She wants to be noticed. She wants to be the spectacle. Yes, this is all the result of her deep insecurities. Deep seeded insecurities. I could point the proverbial finger at Aoki and say that he’s the center of this insecurity. The guy takes punches for five dollars, right? He’s always showing off when she’s around--stealing her spotlight. How is this possible? She’s the cute one, right? She’s the shiny one with all of the potential, but still, she hasn’t found her niche. Insecure and lonely, she is.”
Jove lights up his smoke.
“California regulations be damned. I don’t know if you know this, or care, but the woman I both love and hate is currently in an intensive care unit. Her child is asleep in a crib in my bedroom and I’m not father material. Also, don’t talk to me about fucking smoking right now. When the time comes, I’ll shoot one of those PSA’s about smoking like I’m Yul Brynner coughing up my last lung. My woes aside, I’m not the one putting myself out there, putting the ‘cart before the pony’ claiming Union Battleground for myself when I haven’t done a thing to earn it.”
He ashes his cigarette.
“Yes, I knocked Azrael into the past. You and I were both surprised when we realized my finisher had the capability to achieve time-travel. That aside, I fell short of the big win, when I watched my match decided without me. That shit will happen, but it doesn’t alter my resolve.”
He exhales and makes room for another gulp of whiskey.
“Our cutsie little pony, Kimi, is going to tell you that the battleground won’t be able to survive her, but this is merely Kimi confirming that she’s ignorant to what’s going on around her. Union was the strong organization it is, right now, before she ever arrived. It will be the same strong organization it currently is, when she starts to chafe from all the rubbing. The only thing she currently has going for her is the fact that her previous promotion, AWE, went down the drain. She can pin her lack of success on that fact. Well played, if you ask me. Either way you slice it, she’s a seven passing herself off as a ten with that caked on makeup and ‘look at me’ attitude.”
“Is the girl getting the message yet?”
He exhales through his nose.
“Every time Kimitsu steps out onto her stage, she’s dropping her little panties and she’s rubbing one out. She wants that attention and she’ll get it anyway she can. In her case, she’s doing so with masturbation. Nearly every word escaping her lips highlights this activity. She’s going to crush her opponents. She’s going to intimidate. She’s going to take over. So on and so forth. I need not explain further. It’s all masturbatory and self-congratulatory.”
He lets out a little laugh.
“I’ve had this conversation with Azrael already. My match with Kimitsu will not be as final as she’d like you to believe. We will walk away from the match, no matter who wins. I will be left with the reality that all I’ve really learned is that Kimitsu has worked southern slang into her vocabulary. ‘Y’all’ and ‘ain’t’. Where did this come from? It doesn’t matter. Kimitsu won’t get me killed. All she’s going to do is leave me wondering if I should be disgusted or aroused.”
Jove finishes his whiskey and butts out his cigarette.
“Now I’m going to speak to you directly, Kimitsu. If there is anything to learn when we meet at Lights Out, it will be humility. You will be so focused on your self-imposed prowess that you won’t learn it, but still, it’s something to scribble in your notebook. If I am to be your teacher, I suggest you make sure Aoki has your sticker covered notebook, ringside so he can take notes. You need to be knocked down a peg and I figure I’m the guy to do it. Why? Well, I’m at the bottom, Pony. I’ll give you a glimpse of just how far you can fall.”
END.