Post by Paul Mall on Sept 21, 2021 8:02:17 GMT -5
Paul Mall had grown up to be pretty good at about four things. Wrestling, driving, smoking cigarettes, and manners.
Unfortunately, these qualities left little in the ability box that could go towards becoming a world-famous film director. While the Natural American Spirit certainly embraced the idea of a D.I.Y. promotional video, he’d found it difficult to capture the elaborate setting that he’d dreamed up for it.
This was precisely why fellow Action Wrestling newcomer CVO stood next to him wearing a cardboard cutout of a transfer truck over her standard in-ring attire. It was like what a toddler might wear as an adorable Halloween costume, only slightly more intimidating (and ridiculous.) With fists on her hips, the stone-carved shooter appears to be a little confused herself.
“Wait, before we roll,” she asks, “remind me again, Paul. What’s my motivation for this scene?”
“It’s a little complex,” Paul responds, walking over to where he had marked a little “X” to set his stage direction. “But you’re a truck that cosmic forces have possessed. And those cosmic forces are pretty mad at humans for their failure to develop as a species, still engaging in war and being motivated by greed and stuff. So, they want you to run over any human you see.”
CVO smiles, an excited twinkle forming in her eye. “Gotcha.”
“But I am the scientist-slash-truck driver who is asking you questions and trying to snap you out of it,” he adds.
CVO scratches the top of her head, casting another confused look in his direction. “Wait, so I can actually understand what you’re saying?” Although she’d completely bypassed the absurdity of Paul playing a scientist-slash-truck driver, this was the point she felt most important to clarify.
“Yes. So when I say ‘action,’ I’ll then say ‘c’mon truck, don’t do anything crazy!’ And then you’ll say, ‘it’s time for Maximum Overdrive, human!’ Then you’ll charge at me and we’ll cut,” he directs.
“So the trucks can talk in this movie,” CVO mutters, shrugging her shoulders. “Cool. So I just stop before I knock you over, right?”
“Right,” Paul reaffirms. “In three-two-one...ACTION!”
Thirty seconds later, Paul found himself staring up at the looming figure of CVO standing over him, extending a hand to offer him help off of the ground.
“Sorry. I forgot to hit the brakes on this thing,” she jokes, lifting the dazed director to his feet with a quick jerk of his left arm. “Again.”
“No problem, friend,” Mall replies, shaking the cobwebs away and dusting the dirt off of his clothes. “This acting stuff is pretty hard, so don’t get discouraged. We’ll get it right, eventually.”
Poor gullible Paul remained completely oblivious to all the fun CVO was having simply plowing over him about twenty or thirty times. Especially since she was being paid for the cameo appearance. Still, there was a tinge of sympathy there as she opted to pose a question, giving him a brief break from being trampled on again.
“So Paul, why exactly are you doing this?”
“It’s for the Eliminator Tournament,” Paul explains. “I wanted to do something special for the fans, so I figured making a movie would be pretty cool. But not just any movie: one that really makes you think.”
CVO bites her lower lip, once again perplexed by his logic. “A film about trucks...that kill...that makes you think…”
“Yeah, it’s kind of a metaphor for the match against Kitsumi. See, a lot of people might feel like she’s the evil force in the contest, just like the aliens controlling the trucks. And that I’m the good guy, like the scientist battling the trucks. But without really knowing the motive, maybe the aliens and Kitsumi aren’t the enemy? Maybe we’re all good deep down, but some of us are just misunderstood.”
“That’s deep, man,” CVO lies, chuckling under her breath. “So I hate to question your art, but what do you think about changing the script so that the truck does a moonsault onto the scientist?”
Paul stares at her for a solid five seconds before grinning from ear-to-ear. “That’s frickin' brilliant. Let’s shoot it.”
Unfortunately, these qualities left little in the ability box that could go towards becoming a world-famous film director. While the Natural American Spirit certainly embraced the idea of a D.I.Y. promotional video, he’d found it difficult to capture the elaborate setting that he’d dreamed up for it.
This was precisely why fellow Action Wrestling newcomer CVO stood next to him wearing a cardboard cutout of a transfer truck over her standard in-ring attire. It was like what a toddler might wear as an adorable Halloween costume, only slightly more intimidating (and ridiculous.) With fists on her hips, the stone-carved shooter appears to be a little confused herself.
“Wait, before we roll,” she asks, “remind me again, Paul. What’s my motivation for this scene?”
“It’s a little complex,” Paul responds, walking over to where he had marked a little “X” to set his stage direction. “But you’re a truck that cosmic forces have possessed. And those cosmic forces are pretty mad at humans for their failure to develop as a species, still engaging in war and being motivated by greed and stuff. So, they want you to run over any human you see.”
CVO smiles, an excited twinkle forming in her eye. “Gotcha.”
“But I am the scientist-slash-truck driver who is asking you questions and trying to snap you out of it,” he adds.
CVO scratches the top of her head, casting another confused look in his direction. “Wait, so I can actually understand what you’re saying?” Although she’d completely bypassed the absurdity of Paul playing a scientist-slash-truck driver, this was the point she felt most important to clarify.
“Yes. So when I say ‘action,’ I’ll then say ‘c’mon truck, don’t do anything crazy!’ And then you’ll say, ‘it’s time for Maximum Overdrive, human!’ Then you’ll charge at me and we’ll cut,” he directs.
“So the trucks can talk in this movie,” CVO mutters, shrugging her shoulders. “Cool. So I just stop before I knock you over, right?”
“Right,” Paul reaffirms. “In three-two-one...ACTION!”
Thirty seconds later, Paul found himself staring up at the looming figure of CVO standing over him, extending a hand to offer him help off of the ground.
“Sorry. I forgot to hit the brakes on this thing,” she jokes, lifting the dazed director to his feet with a quick jerk of his left arm. “Again.”
“No problem, friend,” Mall replies, shaking the cobwebs away and dusting the dirt off of his clothes. “This acting stuff is pretty hard, so don’t get discouraged. We’ll get it right, eventually.”
Poor gullible Paul remained completely oblivious to all the fun CVO was having simply plowing over him about twenty or thirty times. Especially since she was being paid for the cameo appearance. Still, there was a tinge of sympathy there as she opted to pose a question, giving him a brief break from being trampled on again.
“So Paul, why exactly are you doing this?”
“It’s for the Eliminator Tournament,” Paul explains. “I wanted to do something special for the fans, so I figured making a movie would be pretty cool. But not just any movie: one that really makes you think.”
CVO bites her lower lip, once again perplexed by his logic. “A film about trucks...that kill...that makes you think…”
“Yeah, it’s kind of a metaphor for the match against Kitsumi. See, a lot of people might feel like she’s the evil force in the contest, just like the aliens controlling the trucks. And that I’m the good guy, like the scientist battling the trucks. But without really knowing the motive, maybe the aliens and Kitsumi aren’t the enemy? Maybe we’re all good deep down, but some of us are just misunderstood.”
“That’s deep, man,” CVO lies, chuckling under her breath. “So I hate to question your art, but what do you think about changing the script so that the truck does a moonsault onto the scientist?”
Paul stares at her for a solid five seconds before grinning from ear-to-ear. “That’s frickin' brilliant. Let’s shoot it.”