Post by THE Willie Pete on Jan 14, 2020 12:57:15 GMT -5
THE WICKED WITCH
She gazed upward at the rectangle as it approached her. She didn’t know how or why it was there, but it was there. It grew closer and closer.
She thought she was invincible, so she never thought to move.
CRASHHHHHHHSSSSPLAAATTTTT
She was one of two Wicked Witches, now in past tense, she was the lesser of the two.
The rectangle, of course, was a house. The door to that house blew open and out stepped Willie Pete into gorgeous Technicolor®. He was wearing a beautiful blue and white gingham pinafore dress with a fitted bodice and straps fixed at the front and back by oversized sparkling white buttons. Underneath the pinafore was a high neck white blouse with puffed sleeves. His hair was done up in pigtails.
He walked down the steps and turned his attention to the ruby red slippers sticking out from underneath the house-still on the feet of that former Wicked Witch.
“Wendy, I’m going to level with you: you need help. I’m not talking ‘mental help’ because a woman who literally made a deal with the devil is clearly perfectly sane, no, I’m saying that you actually need help. You spent the majority of your last promo (yes, I have a VHS player) showcasing all of this cool gear you could have used at Guerilla Warfare, but ultimately you didn’t end up using any of it. In fact, you said you didn’t need it all.
BUT, here’s the thing:
When it came time for Guerilla Warfare, you walked out to the ring, took out like what, one nobody guy? Skull boy something or other? Then you were eliminated by BRYAN WILLIAMS. The very guy you used as your FIRST example of someone you’d destroy with your magical knife boots. This really sucks.
You probably should have worn the gadgets.”
There was no time for song and dance or any lollipop guilds. No no. It was all ruined promptly with a burst of red smoke. Willie took two steps back, noticeably confused and scared. The red smoke dissipated revealing the WICKED WITCH!
She stormed the house which had crushed the other and much lesser Wicked Witch! She angrily stomped her feet, “WHO KILLED MY OBVIOUSLY LESSER SISTER?!” Screeched the Witch!
“Uh, not me, I wasn’t driving that house, but it played out like,” Willie mimicked a house falling, then mimed a Wicked Witch looking up afraid, then at the point of impact he blew a raspberry and clapped his hands together, “Worked out well for me though, she had big feet!”
Close up shot of the ruby red slippers.
“I’ll get you, dickmunch, and your stupid dog too!¹” complained the Wicked Witch before once again vanishing in a ploom of red smoke!
¹ Due to time restraints, the dog and other companions have been omitted. Though, technically Willie is part Scarecrow, because he needs a brain.
"You’re so insanely confident and that’s a really good thing, it pairs well with your hair and the look in your eyes, but it might be something you’d want to work your way UP to. Because, right now, from where I’m standing, you’re more of a ‘work in progress’ than ‘ready to conquer the world’.
Hey, even Alexander the Great needed some warm-up battles.
I’m concerned that the ‘Devil’ sold you a bag of BULLSHIT. In fact, there’s a chance that it might not have even been the Devil at all. Sorry to say, there’s a chance that the Devil doesn’t walk the earth and doesn’t grant people wicked talents just for their souls.
What if you don’t own your own soul now? Think about that. Your soul belongs to some pretend Devil guy and you still can’t win at wrestling? That sucks!
Sure, you beat some Gen Z chick, but she was too worried about the Koalas and Kangaroos burning to death ‘down undah’ right now to concentrate on the match with you."
We caught up to Willie, skipping down the Yellowbrick Road. He was heading north and just wanted to find a place to eat. He wasn’t hassling anyone. Then one of the flying monkeys who was also an unemployed clown, pulled up and cut him off in a police cruiser.
The monkey sniffed, “You know you’re asking for trouble, wearing those ruby red slippers looking the way you do! Where are you heading? I’ll get you going in the right direction!”
Willie tousled one of his pigtails thoughtfully, before climbing into the cruiser.
“I’m just going to drive you beyond the Yellow Brick Road limits. We don’t take kindly to your kind around here.”
“My kind?” Willie questioned as he pulled his skirt to cover his supple bare leg.
“Drifters. We let you come around, before we know it, we have a dozen guys just like you around.”
“Why are you pushing me?”
“What did you say?”
“I said, why are you pushing me? All I wanted was something to...”
CUE VHS tape tracking, for a moment pure white noise, then black.
JUMPCUT to Willie Pete brandishing a belt-fed M-60 light machine gun as he cut down wave after wave of Flying Monkeys. This is all set to totally rad action movie music. Cut to his pig tails bobbing in the air with each and every round fired. Zoomed out, Willie is up to his ankles in spent shell casings.
GUN JAM! Willie was overwhelmed by the Flying Monkeys who were also clowns in varied states of employment!
SMASHCUT
(ASSUME THAT WILLIE WHOOPED ALL ENEMIES, MADE IT TO EMERALD CITY, AND IS HEADED FOR FINAL SHOWDOWN WITH WICKED WITCH)
Willie was soaked and his pigtails were ruined. He was walking slowly, dragging one leg, as he approached the sound of bickering. Or better, begging. He carried an MP5 in his hands, but it was empty. Useless.
“WITCHHHH”
He came around the corner to find the WICKED WITCH with a gun to the head of the Wizard. She wasn’t surprised to see Willie; almost seemed like she was expecting him.
Willie breathed out, “So what happens now, WITCH?!”
The WITCH sighed, “It’s a good question, Willie. I mean, I haven’t been following any of what’s going on since the First Blood reference.”
Willie held out the MP5 and dropped the gun. The Wizard whimpered, maybe because he knew his role in the whole affair was pointless.
“Now, what was it you said mimed to me?” the WICKED WITCH mimicked a house falling, then mimed a Wicked Witch looking up afraid, then at the point of impact she blew a raspberry and clapped her hands together…
BUT IT WAS A SUBPAR IMITATION!
Willie started to laugh, the Witch started to laugh, the Wizard started to laugh, everyone was laughing!
The WITCH aimed at Willie while Willie simultaneously squeeged out his beard! Willie flung the hand full of water at the WITCH! Right in her face! Boom! WATER!
“I’M MELTING! MELTING! LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE DONE!”
“Gross!”
"I think there’s talent in you. I mean, I see talent when I look at you. A lot of talent. Like, so much talent that I have to take regimented breaks to absorb it all, but you’ve shown little to back it up. When I stand back and look at the sum of all your parts, it’s hard not to see a lot of talk and very little...anything else.
Maybe if you hadn’t been eliminated from the Guerilla Warfare match so unceremoniously, or had actually shown the abilities you claim you have, then you’d look more legit?
I get that you’re like devil chick, wicked witch; so you can’t give credit where it may or may not be due, but when all of the people you treated like simpletons beat you up, you looked really DUMB. It’s simple: You said they were nothing, then you got beat by that same ‘nothing’. Do the math, it doesn’t come out in your favor.
STILL, I see your talent and I think about it at night before I go to bed. Or when I look at one of the many posters I have of you."
As the WITCH melted, Willie came in close. She breathed out, coughing up her glowing green blood.
“What the hell are you?” he asked.
She retorted, “What the hell are you?”
Then Willie noticed something on her wrist. Something she just activated. It was beeping. A countdown of some kind. She spread her mandibles (yes she had them all along) and began laughing. A heavy, throaty laugh. Almost like Sonny Landham, but whatever.
It took a while, but finally Willie put two and two together and made a run for it! The faster he ran, the louder she laughed. A jet of electricity climbed up into the air before violently retracting backwards, causing a blinding explosion of white.
Willie’s blue and white gingham pinafore skirt flew up, showing off his knickers, as he was thrown into the air! Right before the blast wave hit him, he clicked his heels together!
“There’s no place like hommmeeeeee!”
"So what have we established? You’ve got the talent inside you, but you need help to harness it. You should have worn that gear at Guerilla Warfare, because you were completely destroyed. Your ego knows no bounds and hasn’t really been earned. Finally, pretty sure that ‘Devil’ you sold your ‘soul’ to was BALONEY!
BUT if you want to believe you really your soul, that’s fine; just saying, you got a shit return on your investment.
Also, you can totally be that ‘be all end all’ wrestler-god if you’re willing to earn it. Until then, you look like one of those crazy folks on Youtube who make even the Infowars guy stop and say, “Holdup.”
In closing, what I’m saying is, Wendy, even with all that bravado, you still look like someone even I could BEAT.
That’s BAD."
END
(Finally, right?)
She gazed upward at the rectangle as it approached her. She didn’t know how or why it was there, but it was there. It grew closer and closer.
She thought she was invincible, so she never thought to move.
CRASHHHHHHHSSSSPLAAATTTTT
She was one of two Wicked Witches, now in past tense, she was the lesser of the two.
The rectangle, of course, was a house. The door to that house blew open and out stepped Willie Pete into gorgeous Technicolor®. He was wearing a beautiful blue and white gingham pinafore dress with a fitted bodice and straps fixed at the front and back by oversized sparkling white buttons. Underneath the pinafore was a high neck white blouse with puffed sleeves. His hair was done up in pigtails.
He walked down the steps and turned his attention to the ruby red slippers sticking out from underneath the house-still on the feet of that former Wicked Witch.
“Wendy, I’m going to level with you: you need help. I’m not talking ‘mental help’ because a woman who literally made a deal with the devil is clearly perfectly sane, no, I’m saying that you actually need help. You spent the majority of your last promo (yes, I have a VHS player) showcasing all of this cool gear you could have used at Guerilla Warfare, but ultimately you didn’t end up using any of it. In fact, you said you didn’t need it all.
BUT, here’s the thing:
When it came time for Guerilla Warfare, you walked out to the ring, took out like what, one nobody guy? Skull boy something or other? Then you were eliminated by BRYAN WILLIAMS. The very guy you used as your FIRST example of someone you’d destroy with your magical knife boots. This really sucks.
You probably should have worn the gadgets.”
There was no time for song and dance or any lollipop guilds. No no. It was all ruined promptly with a burst of red smoke. Willie took two steps back, noticeably confused and scared. The red smoke dissipated revealing the WICKED WITCH!
She stormed the house which had crushed the other and much lesser Wicked Witch! She angrily stomped her feet, “WHO KILLED MY OBVIOUSLY LESSER SISTER?!” Screeched the Witch!
“Uh, not me, I wasn’t driving that house, but it played out like,” Willie mimicked a house falling, then mimed a Wicked Witch looking up afraid, then at the point of impact he blew a raspberry and clapped his hands together, “Worked out well for me though, she had big feet!”
Close up shot of the ruby red slippers.
“I’ll get you, dickmunch, and your stupid dog too!¹” complained the Wicked Witch before once again vanishing in a ploom of red smoke!
¹ Due to time restraints, the dog and other companions have been omitted. Though, technically Willie is part Scarecrow, because he needs a brain.
"You’re so insanely confident and that’s a really good thing, it pairs well with your hair and the look in your eyes, but it might be something you’d want to work your way UP to. Because, right now, from where I’m standing, you’re more of a ‘work in progress’ than ‘ready to conquer the world’.
Hey, even Alexander the Great needed some warm-up battles.
I’m concerned that the ‘Devil’ sold you a bag of BULLSHIT. In fact, there’s a chance that it might not have even been the Devil at all. Sorry to say, there’s a chance that the Devil doesn’t walk the earth and doesn’t grant people wicked talents just for their souls.
What if you don’t own your own soul now? Think about that. Your soul belongs to some pretend Devil guy and you still can’t win at wrestling? That sucks!
Sure, you beat some Gen Z chick, but she was too worried about the Koalas and Kangaroos burning to death ‘down undah’ right now to concentrate on the match with you."
We caught up to Willie, skipping down the Yellowbrick Road. He was heading north and just wanted to find a place to eat. He wasn’t hassling anyone. Then one of the flying monkeys who was also an unemployed clown, pulled up and cut him off in a police cruiser.
The monkey sniffed, “You know you’re asking for trouble, wearing those ruby red slippers looking the way you do! Where are you heading? I’ll get you going in the right direction!”
Willie tousled one of his pigtails thoughtfully, before climbing into the cruiser.
“I’m just going to drive you beyond the Yellow Brick Road limits. We don’t take kindly to your kind around here.”
“My kind?” Willie questioned as he pulled his skirt to cover his supple bare leg.
“Drifters. We let you come around, before we know it, we have a dozen guys just like you around.”
“Why are you pushing me?”
“What did you say?”
“I said, why are you pushing me? All I wanted was something to...”
CUE VHS tape tracking, for a moment pure white noise, then black.
JUMPCUT to Willie Pete brandishing a belt-fed M-60 light machine gun as he cut down wave after wave of Flying Monkeys. This is all set to totally rad action movie music. Cut to his pig tails bobbing in the air with each and every round fired. Zoomed out, Willie is up to his ankles in spent shell casings.
GUN JAM! Willie was overwhelmed by the Flying Monkeys who were also clowns in varied states of employment!
SMASHCUT
(ASSUME THAT WILLIE WHOOPED ALL ENEMIES, MADE IT TO EMERALD CITY, AND IS HEADED FOR FINAL SHOWDOWN WITH WICKED WITCH)
Willie was soaked and his pigtails were ruined. He was walking slowly, dragging one leg, as he approached the sound of bickering. Or better, begging. He carried an MP5 in his hands, but it was empty. Useless.
“WITCHHHH”
He came around the corner to find the WICKED WITCH with a gun to the head of the Wizard. She wasn’t surprised to see Willie; almost seemed like she was expecting him.
Willie breathed out, “So what happens now, WITCH?!”
The WITCH sighed, “It’s a good question, Willie. I mean, I haven’t been following any of what’s going on since the First Blood reference.”
Willie held out the MP5 and dropped the gun. The Wizard whimpered, maybe because he knew his role in the whole affair was pointless.
“Now, what was it you said mimed to me?” the WICKED WITCH mimicked a house falling, then mimed a Wicked Witch looking up afraid, then at the point of impact she blew a raspberry and clapped her hands together…
BUT IT WAS A SUBPAR IMITATION!
Willie started to laugh, the Witch started to laugh, the Wizard started to laugh, everyone was laughing!
The WITCH aimed at Willie while Willie simultaneously squeeged out his beard! Willie flung the hand full of water at the WITCH! Right in her face! Boom! WATER!
“I’M MELTING! MELTING! LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE DONE!”
“Gross!”
"I think there’s talent in you. I mean, I see talent when I look at you. A lot of talent. Like, so much talent that I have to take regimented breaks to absorb it all, but you’ve shown little to back it up. When I stand back and look at the sum of all your parts, it’s hard not to see a lot of talk and very little...anything else.
Maybe if you hadn’t been eliminated from the Guerilla Warfare match so unceremoniously, or had actually shown the abilities you claim you have, then you’d look more legit?
I get that you’re like devil chick, wicked witch; so you can’t give credit where it may or may not be due, but when all of the people you treated like simpletons beat you up, you looked really DUMB. It’s simple: You said they were nothing, then you got beat by that same ‘nothing’. Do the math, it doesn’t come out in your favor.
STILL, I see your talent and I think about it at night before I go to bed. Or when I look at one of the many posters I have of you."
As the WITCH melted, Willie came in close. She breathed out, coughing up her glowing green blood.
“What the hell are you?” he asked.
She retorted, “What the hell are you?”
Then Willie noticed something on her wrist. Something she just activated. It was beeping. A countdown of some kind. She spread her mandibles (yes she had them all along) and began laughing. A heavy, throaty laugh. Almost like Sonny Landham, but whatever.
It took a while, but finally Willie put two and two together and made a run for it! The faster he ran, the louder she laughed. A jet of electricity climbed up into the air before violently retracting backwards, causing a blinding explosion of white.
Willie’s blue and white gingham pinafore skirt flew up, showing off his knickers, as he was thrown into the air! Right before the blast wave hit him, he clicked his heels together!
“There’s no place like hommmeeeeee!”
"So what have we established? You’ve got the talent inside you, but you need help to harness it. You should have worn that gear at Guerilla Warfare, because you were completely destroyed. Your ego knows no bounds and hasn’t really been earned. Finally, pretty sure that ‘Devil’ you sold your ‘soul’ to was BALONEY!
BUT if you want to believe you really your soul, that’s fine; just saying, you got a shit return on your investment.
Also, you can totally be that ‘be all end all’ wrestler-god if you’re willing to earn it. Until then, you look like one of those crazy folks on Youtube who make even the Infowars guy stop and say, “Holdup.”
In closing, what I’m saying is, Wendy, even with all that bravado, you still look like someone even I could BEAT.
That’s BAD."
END
(Finally, right?)