Post by Tyler Scott on Jan 29, 2018 16:14:37 GMT -5
A long time ago in a cosmos far far away...
It is a period of war. The Transgressor Tyler Skywalker, striking from his hidden training base in the East End of London, has won his first victory against the evil Galactic Empire known as the PCW.
During his battles, Tyler Skywalker has formulated secret plans to destroy the PCWs ultimate weapon, the ROSTER, an collection of thick skulled numbnuts each with the power to destroy an entire grape in a single punch!
Pursued by the Empires sinister agents - Tyler Skywalker continues forth on his quest, custodian of plans that can save PCW from it’s own sorry self and restore pride in the wrestling universe....
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The band play that familiar tune as we enter the Cantina on Tatooine.
The grizzliest, weirdest and often pathetic creatures from within the PCW gather together in this corner of the universe.
A big fat slug known as Yukio lies in the corner. With a sweaty slithering tail, he lounges with a undeserving smug look. A squirming tongue hangs out of his slobbering mouth as flies encircle him.
To his right hand side is a strange female with the whitest skin and the blackest hair. The locals know her as Alexa and she had built a reputation for being somewhat unpredictable. She snarls and grunts at anyone who walks past but, in truth, her bad-ass chick persona was long gone. Her main role now is to bring Yukio food and wipe his fat ass when he makes a mess - for which she is incredibly competent at.
The Grimm - the four eyed hairy beast sits in the corner, sipping on a tankard of something lightly alcoholic - presumably some piss-weak hipster craft beer. Stroking his shaggy wiry beard, he tells stories of complete irrelevance in an unexplainable rambling foreign language to whoever is close enough, and drunk enough, to listen.
In the darkest corner of the Cantina sits the mysterious Brenna Gordon. At least we assume she is here. No one has actually ever seen her.
Two crater-faced friends laugh and joke together. Justin and Johnny are a pair of dwarfish douchebags with egos two sizes too big for their miniature statures.
A wolf creature, known as Razor Blade, howls loudly. His bark is worse than his bite. He has a reputation for sitting by the door to the Cantina and challenging everyone who walks in to a drinking contest. He has yet to win one.
Saniti - A two-horned devil with a deranged look in his eye look around the bar. With burning red eyes and a cackling laugh, he hops around the bar from shadow to shadow. He is hardly visible as he stalks, looking for the next opportunity to strike.
The Cantina band jam along with their funky intergalactic smooth jazz sound. The band is made up of Wasp and High Tide as a comedy pairing on the hydraulic flutes; Kyle Shane blowing hot air into the mechanical bagpipes; and Non Compos Mentis on the drums because, let’s face it, he has been beating the same solemn repetitive boring beat for his entire fucking career.
A little green bug with a shifty snivelling demeanour looks over his shoulder, alerted the presence of Tyler Skywalker. He turns his head away as to not make it obvious that he watching, but keeps a beady eye on Tyler as he strolls into the Cantina.
Tyler heads to the bar and catches the bartenders attention. He orders a space-whiskey and takes a seat on the barstool. Next to him, a pair of unsavoury characters take exception to his presence. The first, a big blue bug with hairy pink pedipalps covering its mouth, pushes Tyler and screams in his face. Tyler, amused by his funny appearance, simply returns to his whiskey. But before he can take a sip, he is tapped on the shoulder by the second creature - a humanoid but with the most fucked-up nose you will ever see.
“He doesn’t like you” the creature says grabbing Tyler Skywalker by the shirt. “I don’t like you either!”
“I just want to have a drink.” Tyler responds with no desire to let a good shot of whiskey go to waste.
“Just watch yourself. We are wanted men. I have a death sentence on twelve systems.” The creature pokes him with a bony figure in the chest.
“Yeah yeah, whatever, I’ll be careful.” Tyler says dismissively, rolling his eyes and taking a sip of his drink.
The creature, infuriated, grabs Tyler and screams in his face. “You’ll be dead!” And with that, he throws Tyler Skywalker to the floor.
The Cantina goes silent. The band stops playing. Non Compos Mentis suddenly stops his monotonous thudding - quite reminiscent of his actual career. All eyes turn to the disturbance. Tyler, with a sideways crank of his neck and a brush of his trousers, returns to his feet. He stares back at his newly acquired enemy.
The creature whips out a gun which had been tucked into his trousers, concealed from view. He points menacingly at Tyler but Skywalker does not flinch. With rapid speed, Tyler himself pulls a weapon from his pocket. In a flash, his blue lightsaber bursts open and Tyler slashes in a downward motion. The creature has no time to react as the lightsaber slices cleanly through his forearm, severing wrist from ulna. His hairy hand drops to the floor with the gun still firmly gripped in it, as the creature screams in agony. Blood splatters across the bar floor as the intimidating hum of the lightsaber fills the void of shocked silence.
Tyler Skywalker looks around the bar, satisfied. He lowers and deactivates his lightsaber, the blue beam retracting, his confidence soaring.
The occupants of the Cantina, in realisation that Tyler Skywalker was a person that should not be confronted, simply nod in appreciation and quietly return to their drinks. The band picks up exactly from where they left off. Fucking Non Compos Mentis starts his droning beat again. Everyone gets back to what they were doing - that is all apart from the little green bug, previously lurking in the corner, who skulks off deviously.
The band continue to play their upbeat Martian pop music as Tyler takes a seat in a quilted booth, next to a tall sleek female humanoid. He raises his eyebrow flirtatiously and begins to the talk to her.
Two white Stormtroopers, the enforcers of the PCW universe, enter the Cantina. Gabriel turns to Seromine. Seromine glances at Gabriel. They scan the bar, full of reprobates and criminals, with delusions of power. But in this place their authority counts for nothing. They just stand in entrance before turning and walking back out - powerless to do anything.
Tyler Skywalker makes small talk with a beautiful extraterrestrial woman.
“What do you mean you have never heard of Tyler Skywalker? I am the guy who pinned Hiroshi Yukio is less than 12 parsecs.” He exclaims snuggly. “I might be fast but I can go for ages.”
The woman rolls her eyes and leaves the booth, unimpressed by Tyler’s chat up lines. Tyler goes to follow her but is stopped in his tracks.
“Going somewhere, Tyler?” The verminous little green bobbly-headed fly-like creature appears from behind the corner and places a gun right up against Tyler’s chest.
“Ah Yes, Cosmo.” Tyler knows who the snot-green crustacean is. “As a matter of fact I was just coming to see you.”
Tyler is forced back into his chair by Cosmo, pushing the barrel of the gun into sternum. As Tyler sits at the table, Cosmo takes a seat across from him - right hand resting on the table with the gun pointing at his enemy’s head.
“Tell Justin Michaels that I am coming for his North American championship.”
“It’s too late, Tyler. You don’t have a chance. There is a price on your head so large that every bounty hunter is the galaxy is looking to take you down. I’m lucky I found you first.” The little green Cosmo gives a cackle of laughter as he reflects on how lucky he has been to capture Tyler Skywalker so easily.
Tyler, unconcerned at the gun being pointed in his direction, lifts a boot and place it on the table in front of his front. He leans back in a relaxed and composed manner - uncharacteristically cocky for a man is seemingly immediate danger.
“Yeah but this time, I am back in PCW and I will take every title that comes my way.”
“I don’t think so. I will defeat you and I will go on to win the North American championship.” Cosmo snarls.
Tyler retorts “Over my dead body.”
“That’s the idea” Cosmo sniggers. “I’ve been looking forward to his for a long time.”
“Yes I bet you have!” With that, Tyler Skywalker shoots his blaster from under the table right in the torso of Cosmo. In a ball of flames and a puff of smoke, Cosmo implodes from within - his entrails littering the leather quilted booth. He drops, head first, onto the table with little more than a whimper.
The rest of the canteen again look over towards the disturbance but soon shrug it off as just another Tyler Skywalker incident. They turn and carry on with their nasty drinks and boring conversations once again.
On the table, the sizzling body of Cosmo remains. Tyler takes his boots off the table and casually walks away, leaving a big steamy pile of green mess in the booth. Walking over to the bar, Tyler flicks a compensatory coin towards the bartender. “Sorry about the mess.”
With that Tyler Skywalker strolls out of the canteen, heading towards a North American Championship opportunity, after disposing of the shitty verminous creature, Cosmo.
