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+---- Thread: Mark Flynn in "Micheal Graves" (/showthread.php?tid=48221)
Mark Flynn in "Micheal Graves" - Mark Flynn - 11-20-2024
Previously…
Quote:Tote/Tate/Wilson scrolls through hundreds of wrestling tweets.
…
“Okay.”
…T/T/W takes a deep breath.
“Irwin.”
“I’m going to tell you something.”
“And I want you to be calm.”
…
“Okay?”
…
“Mark Flynn.”
T/T/W sighs.
[yellow“IS retiring.”[/yellow]
…
“BUT! That doesn’t mean I was wrong about the other things, okay?”
T/T/W starts to turn around.
“That doesn’t mean he’s not hims-”
…
Irwin is off the bench.
…
And his chains rest on the floor.
…
Left on the ground?
T/T/W’s nail file.
…
On the wall?
An open window.
…
T/T/W pinches her brow.
“Goddammit.”
”So, I ran!”
“Evading law enforcement at every turn… Having to think one step ahead… Completely entering my hunters’ mind, anticipating their every move!”
“Through sheer force of will, I became a master of disguise! Able to assume the form of anything from a light pole! To a garbage can! To a Hispanic mother and her two children at the drop of a hat!”
“I ran over a th-”
”Do it.”
…Irwin glances up from his dramatic retelling of his heroic escape.
”...What, sir?”
”You said you’d become a master of disguise, and could assume the form of a Hispanic mother AND her two kids at the drop of a hat.”
”...Well, maybe not *assume the form* completely… but… I *could* bear a passing resemblance that the police would think… I was a small Latin American family.”
”Bullshit.”
”No, really!” Irwin shakes his head, insisting emphatically! ”I totally could, sir! I had to do it multiple times on my way here!”
”Then, do it!” Flynn dares Irwin, as a hand surreptitiously reaches into his pocket…
”It’s not something I can do at will! It’s a reflex! A survival tactic I’ve trained into my core! Like a chameleon! Or a Condylostylus fl-!”
WHEEEEE OOOOOOOOOOOOOH! WHEEEEEEEEEE OH!
All of a sudden, the sound of police sirens!
”Cops!”
That moment, the camera pans to Flynn’s face, as off-screen, there’s the sound of flesh and bone shifting…
Transforming…
…As Flynn’s expression turns to one of astonished horror!
…
Following by begrudging acceptance, accompanied by a single clap.
”Fine, yeah, okay. I’ll admit when I’m wrong… You *can* become a small Latin-American family right there, Ir-dawg.”
…The camera pans backwards as muscles detense and shift…
And by the time it arrives back to Irwin, he’s redonning his trademark glasses.
“Anyway, where was I I ran across six states! All the way from a courthouse in New York! Over one-thousand mi-”
”Question.” Flynn raises a hand.
Irwin is flummoxed by the interruption, but nods. ”Uh… g-go ahead, Mister Flynn?”
”Why were you in New York?”
…
”Mister Flynn, I was charged with… murder? Of Maximillian Duhast?”
“Remember? 1029 W. 123rd St? You and Mister Kaye and Mister King and Mister Pryce and I all played Clue?”
…
”Uh-huh.”
…Flynn scratches his chin.
”Uh… What was I wearing at the time?”
…Irwin sighs.
[white]”A paisley safari outfit with monocle, a la Col-”
Flynn snaps his fingers! ”A la Colonel Mustard! That’s right! I remember now!”
…
”You killed that guy!”
Irwin horrifiedly shakes his head. ”S-sir! I promise I didn’t! That’s what I kept calling you about! About Mister Clinton could defend me in court!”
…Flynn squints. ”Oh yeeeeeeeeah.”
…
”Well, that asshole’s gone now. The law office has closed up shop…”
”...Oh!” Irwin dry-swallows. ”...Really? You sure?”
”Evicted permanently from his last residence.” Flynn mutters, as he taps the side of his head. ”I’ve converted the frat house of voices in my head into a single-tenant dwelling.”
…
Irwin breathes a sigh…
”Well, to be honest, sir…”
…
”That’s a huge relief!”
…Flynn squints.
”Really? You don’t want Super-Attorney to bail you out?”
…Irwin grits his teeth.
”I mean… Admittedly, that is going to make the issue of my… freedom... more complicated.” Irwin shakes his head. ”But, sir! I mainly came all this way because I was worried you were in danger!”
…
”Danger, Irwinner?”
”...I felt… through our cosmic connection. The bond we share!”
Flynn coughs. *KERAGH*parasocialrelationship*WHEEZE*”
”What?”
”Nothing, go on.”
”The last time I spoke to you… You were acting 100% like Mister Clinton! And I couldn’t… *feel* you. It was like you were gone! Completely stripped from this mortal plane!”
”But, I get here and…” …Irwin knocks on the wooden table. ”It’s you!” Irwin stretches out of his seat, to clench Mister Flynn into a hug. “You’re really you, Mister Flynn!”
Flynn wretches, as he shoves back the poor nerd to arm’s length. ”Of course, I’m ME, Irwin. Who else would I be?!?”
Irwin shakes his head. ”Right, of course! I’m just so glad to get back to where we left off!” Irwin reaches into a drawer, retrieving his trapper-keeper with Flynn’s face on it, (right where he left it).
Irwin licks the pen, and flips to a fresh page.
”So, what’s our scheme, huh? What will Mark Flynn do to take over the wrestling world?!?”
…
”Uh…”
“It’s.”
“‘Micheal Graves’, actually…”
“And we’re…”
“*throat-clear*”
“Unionizing wrestling.”
…
”What?”
Okay.
Graves.
Your fifteen minutes are up.
Time to go back to irrelevance.
Aw, don’t be said.
We all had a nice laugh, huh?
We turned the wrestling world on its head, didn’t we?
For two whole months.
‘Micheal Graves’ went from being the wrestling industry’s punchline…
To TOP-TIER TALENT.
Your name is LITERALLY #1 on the ELO chart.
(in quotes, cuz we all know who’s actually numero one).
And all it took?
Was a little substitute casting.
For the
GREATEST.
WRESTLER.
WHO EVER LIVED.
…
Since Day One.
To don the ‘Dark Warrior’ mantle.
And create the single most captivating story on Thursday Night.
…
What did I say I would do?
I told the whole Anarchy Roster.
I could come in and take the belt…
ANY TIME I WANTED.
…
And I did.
…
It’s been fun.
A gas.
A laugh-and-a-half.
…
But now?
Halloween was last month.
Time to hang up the costume.
And shove the dead back in their Graves.