Post by Paul Mall on Oct 5, 2021 20:20:24 GMT -5
“So it’s like a Choose Your Own Adventure,” CVO says, scratching her head, thumbing through a handcrafted pamphlet.
The Natural American Spirit nods, shoving a Newport in between his lips and lighting the end with his Bic. “Yeah, dude. It’s called ‘PAUL: The Game.’ Pretty cool, huh?”
The Cat was not sure how to react. Paul’s book, which was just a stack of notebook paper with two pieces of green construction paper stapled together as the cover, looked more like an elementary school project than something you would actually buy at Barnes & Noble.
“Why?”
Considering the fact that CVO was asked to star as “Alien Truck” in Paul’s D.I.Y. movie a couple of weeks ago, she really should have known better than to ask such a thing. Thankfully, Paul has a very rational answer waiting in the wings for just such an inquiry.
“Well, you know how most wrestlers like us have merchandise? T-shirts, hats, action figures and what not?” Paul explains, smoke flowing out of his nostrils. “I got to thinking about how people might be tired of the same old stuff, so I wanted to come up with something new and different! To be able to give the fans a real interactive experience.”
CVO puts a friendly hand on Paul’s shoulder, shaking her head. “And your idea was a book.”
“You don’t like it.” Mall frowns. “Crap! I really thought I had something good this time.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth. I didn’t say that I didn’t li...ah, fuck, who am I kidding,” CVO retorts, unable to contain herself. “I hate it. But NOT the idea, man -- just the absolutely AWFUL execution of it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, for starters,” she explains, flipping back through the text, “this is a hundred pages that lets the reader choose what you do in a match against Tsukiko.”
“Exactly!” Paul quips. “They get to choose their own adventure. For me. That way, if they don’t enjoy our actual match, they can do it their way.”
“And that’s fine, but most of these Choose Your Own Adventure books have an actual adventure to choose. Look at this page right here,” CVO says, turning to the middle of the book.
“A fourth of the book is just the reader deciding whether or not to attempt a wrestling move or wave to your mother,” CVO scoffs. “And the rest of it is Tsukiko kicking your ass!”
“Well, yeah,” Paul attempts to explain, “I didn’t want it to come off as too biased toward me.”
Van Owen slaps Paul in the face. Lightly though, because that type of blow from her would usually knock someone out. But still hard enough to cause his cigarette to go careening off in the distance.
“It’s your book! It’s SUPPOSED to be biased toward you,” she shouts. “And there’s only one scenario where you win in the entire damn thing!”
“And I wasn’t going to point it out, but it’s pissing me off too much,” CVO fumes. “The one page where you actually get the victory via some psychopath literally murdering you? You misspell your own name. Really, Paul?”
“Well, uh…” Mall stammers, afraid that he’s about to be the recipient of a much harder smack to his jaw. “I actually did that on purpose.”
“Why?”
Again, not a question that she really needs to know the answer to, but she’s certainly going to get.
“Just in case the guy who makes the flyers for the CruiserClash cards buys a copy of the book, I wanted him to feel like anyone can make an honest mistake, and that it’s OK.”
CVO, who had already rared back her left arm to deliver a backhand, is caught off guard by the response.
“That’s...wow. That’s actually really thoughtful,” she blurts. “Wait a second, though. Did you already make a bunch of copies of this without getting anyone’s opinion on whether or not it was a smart idea?”
Paul shrugs his shoulders and grins sheepishly.
“How many?”
“Uh,” he responds, really wanting to tell a lie here, but his dad had always told him never to do that to his friends. “Like ten-thousand?”
SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!
The Natural American Spirit nods, shoving a Newport in between his lips and lighting the end with his Bic. “Yeah, dude. It’s called ‘PAUL: The Game.’ Pretty cool, huh?”
The Cat was not sure how to react. Paul’s book, which was just a stack of notebook paper with two pieces of green construction paper stapled together as the cover, looked more like an elementary school project than something you would actually buy at Barnes & Noble.
“Why?”
Considering the fact that CVO was asked to star as “Alien Truck” in Paul’s D.I.Y. movie a couple of weeks ago, she really should have known better than to ask such a thing. Thankfully, Paul has a very rational answer waiting in the wings for just such an inquiry.
“Well, you know how most wrestlers like us have merchandise? T-shirts, hats, action figures and what not?” Paul explains, smoke flowing out of his nostrils. “I got to thinking about how people might be tired of the same old stuff, so I wanted to come up with something new and different! To be able to give the fans a real interactive experience.”
CVO puts a friendly hand on Paul’s shoulder, shaking her head. “And your idea was a book.”
“You don’t like it.” Mall frowns. “Crap! I really thought I had something good this time.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth. I didn’t say that I didn’t li...ah, fuck, who am I kidding,” CVO retorts, unable to contain herself. “I hate it. But NOT the idea, man -- just the absolutely AWFUL execution of it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, for starters,” she explains, flipping back through the text, “this is a hundred pages that lets the reader choose what you do in a match against Tsukiko.”
“Exactly!” Paul quips. “They get to choose their own adventure. For me. That way, if they don’t enjoy our actual match, they can do it their way.”
“And that’s fine, but most of these Choose Your Own Adventure books have an actual adventure to choose. Look at this page right here,” CVO says, turning to the middle of the book.
“A fourth of the book is just the reader deciding whether or not to attempt a wrestling move or wave to your mother,” CVO scoffs. “And the rest of it is Tsukiko kicking your ass!”
“Well, yeah,” Paul attempts to explain, “I didn’t want it to come off as too biased toward me.”
Van Owen slaps Paul in the face. Lightly though, because that type of blow from her would usually knock someone out. But still hard enough to cause his cigarette to go careening off in the distance.
“It’s your book! It’s SUPPOSED to be biased toward you,” she shouts. “And there’s only one scenario where you win in the entire damn thing!”
“And I wasn’t going to point it out, but it’s pissing me off too much,” CVO fumes. “The one page where you actually get the victory via some psychopath literally murdering you? You misspell your own name. Really, Paul?”
“Well, uh…” Mall stammers, afraid that he’s about to be the recipient of a much harder smack to his jaw. “I actually did that on purpose.”
“Why?”
Again, not a question that she really needs to know the answer to, but she’s certainly going to get.
“Just in case the guy who makes the flyers for the CruiserClash cards buys a copy of the book, I wanted him to feel like anyone can make an honest mistake, and that it’s OK.”
CVO, who had already rared back her left arm to deliver a backhand, is caught off guard by the response.
“That’s...wow. That’s actually really thoughtful,” she blurts. “Wait a second, though. Did you already make a bunch of copies of this without getting anyone’s opinion on whether or not it was a smart idea?”
Paul shrugs his shoulders and grins sheepishly.
“How many?”
“Uh,” he responds, really wanting to tell a lie here, but his dad had always told him never to do that to his friends. “Like ten-thousand?”
SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!