Masuda Teijin Recast as Bill Murray's Role in Groundhog Day
Oct 3, 2021 8:14:52 GMT -5
Trey Bouchet likes this
Post by Deleted on Oct 3, 2021 8:14:52 GMT -5
Masuda Teijin sits alone in his restaurant to be, a nameless institution of his invention. Tables with upturned chairs surround a single bar stool, a mixed drink and dimming cigarette.
“Conventional wisdom says that tomorrow’s a dangerous thought because you still have to sleep through tonight. Dreams will fade, but only those you can grasp matter. You work every day praying it’s enough to reach your dreamland; but really, few match that plateau. We’re lucky enough to be here and know the person staring back from our phone’s mirrored glass.”
Masuda spins his drink on one finger.
“My dream is to ruin Terra Walker because she couldn’t just win that title. She had to make an example of my misfortunes. We’re all bleating nancies with insufferable problems, but what audacity to spill my goddamn tea that way. It’s rude, disrespectful and unbecoming of a champion.
Everyone in this tourney knows that. My luck, however, has become purgatoric with lessons through blunt force trauma. Why else would I get stuck in a bracket with the same people I goomba stomped to earn my mediocre tournament seeding? Because it wouldn’t be a Teijin romance if I wasn’t driven to existential crisis.
Not this time, assholes!
Likewise, they book Vebbins off her honeymoon whose been so distracted with this gigantic commitment that it’s muzzled her bite. Saddening how talent of her caliber can't spit venom anymore. Like someone declawed Garfield but still expected him to shovel and scarf lasagna.
Am I some joke to you, AW? You can collectively wear me down with passive aggressive taunts. Boo me when I smatter brains with a baseball bat. But do you see me running? Never in my short career has the taste of victory been so near and so sweet. Vengeance might be the coldest dish, but that stark flavor has grounded me on this path of righteousness.”
He extinguishes the cigarette in his drink.
“This tourney has proven my cockroach resilience has a place on Cruiser Clash. Meanwhile, booking still sees me as a clown. They wanted me to fail at Evolution, but I shocked the world with my culinary aptitude. But all I get are these bags of dried chilis promising otherworldly spice.
I’ve overcome these bland salt stacks because my life is 1000% salt!
And your roadblocks mean nothing to someone willing jump them in a mid-2000’s Mitsubishi!”
Teijin is moments from shattering his glass before realizing he’d have to replace that inventory.
“Vebbins has been in the motions as of late. I know this because her mic work, backstage presence and overall dominance has waned. While I will fight for every LGBTQ and beyond for their day in court, this is a different battle. One only suited for those ready to sacrifice all they have.
We’re in a war of attrition and you, Azzy, came here with way too much on your plate. You planned a wedding and have been multitasking ever since this all began. I have people running this operation—and will have culinary experts running my restaurant the day it comes to fruition. I’ve learned that your wildest dreams take ultimate sacrifice… and I’m baring my internal soul for this song of redemption.
It might not be the Hollywood blockbuster our booking czars circle jerk over with Cheyenne Walker or… Paul Mall … but that won’t deter me from destroying every single person between me and my target. I’ll cleave through this nonsense with my rusted machete until vengeance is mine!”
Masuda extinguishes his cigarette.
“What remains of Azurine Vebbins has the impact of National Ice Cream, honoring what moments we desire most for instant gratification. Why else would there be Chocolate Ice Cream Day or even Neapolitan? Because AW’s fans would eat rocks if Biggs and Torture slapped Cruiser Clash’s logo on it.
Proving that Azzy is less than half her old self gives me fucking heartburn. But I’ll take lingering dyspepsia over the runny shits of defeat. Let fans count me out once more on their little polls. For this new Teijin isn’t some lingering migraine, fit of gout or bubble gut. No, I’m for fucking real this time.”
Fade to black.
“Conventional wisdom says that tomorrow’s a dangerous thought because you still have to sleep through tonight. Dreams will fade, but only those you can grasp matter. You work every day praying it’s enough to reach your dreamland; but really, few match that plateau. We’re lucky enough to be here and know the person staring back from our phone’s mirrored glass.”
Masuda spins his drink on one finger.
“My dream is to ruin Terra Walker because she couldn’t just win that title. She had to make an example of my misfortunes. We’re all bleating nancies with insufferable problems, but what audacity to spill my goddamn tea that way. It’s rude, disrespectful and unbecoming of a champion.
Everyone in this tourney knows that. My luck, however, has become purgatoric with lessons through blunt force trauma. Why else would I get stuck in a bracket with the same people I goomba stomped to earn my mediocre tournament seeding? Because it wouldn’t be a Teijin romance if I wasn’t driven to existential crisis.
Not this time, assholes!
Likewise, they book Vebbins off her honeymoon whose been so distracted with this gigantic commitment that it’s muzzled her bite. Saddening how talent of her caliber can't spit venom anymore. Like someone declawed Garfield but still expected him to shovel and scarf lasagna.
Am I some joke to you, AW? You can collectively wear me down with passive aggressive taunts. Boo me when I smatter brains with a baseball bat. But do you see me running? Never in my short career has the taste of victory been so near and so sweet. Vengeance might be the coldest dish, but that stark flavor has grounded me on this path of righteousness.”
He extinguishes the cigarette in his drink.
“This tourney has proven my cockroach resilience has a place on Cruiser Clash. Meanwhile, booking still sees me as a clown. They wanted me to fail at Evolution, but I shocked the world with my culinary aptitude. But all I get are these bags of dried chilis promising otherworldly spice.
I’ve overcome these bland salt stacks because my life is 1000% salt!
And your roadblocks mean nothing to someone willing jump them in a mid-2000’s Mitsubishi!”
Teijin is moments from shattering his glass before realizing he’d have to replace that inventory.
“Vebbins has been in the motions as of late. I know this because her mic work, backstage presence and overall dominance has waned. While I will fight for every LGBTQ and beyond for their day in court, this is a different battle. One only suited for those ready to sacrifice all they have.
We’re in a war of attrition and you, Azzy, came here with way too much on your plate. You planned a wedding and have been multitasking ever since this all began. I have people running this operation—and will have culinary experts running my restaurant the day it comes to fruition. I’ve learned that your wildest dreams take ultimate sacrifice… and I’m baring my internal soul for this song of redemption.
It might not be the Hollywood blockbuster our booking czars circle jerk over with Cheyenne Walker or… Paul Mall … but that won’t deter me from destroying every single person between me and my target. I’ll cleave through this nonsense with my rusted machete until vengeance is mine!”
Masuda extinguishes his cigarette.
“What remains of Azurine Vebbins has the impact of National Ice Cream, honoring what moments we desire most for instant gratification. Why else would there be Chocolate Ice Cream Day or even Neapolitan? Because AW’s fans would eat rocks if Biggs and Torture slapped Cruiser Clash’s logo on it.
Proving that Azzy is less than half her old self gives me fucking heartburn. But I’ll take lingering dyspepsia over the runny shits of defeat. Let fans count me out once more on their little polls. For this new Teijin isn’t some lingering migraine, fit of gout or bubble gut. No, I’m for fucking real this time.”
Fade to black.