Post by Vonn Richter on Jun 9, 2020 19:08:21 GMT -5
Irina Ivanova is sitting at her office desk partaking in the conventions one would expect of a Russian born femme fatale: Tchaikovsky on the Victrola, chilled Beluga Noble in a glass, a Cohiba Behike between her lips. She’s studying some papers that might be an outline of the latest plot against Moose and Squirrel (can you read Cyrillic? I can’t), and maybe she’s squeezing the life out of some hapless cuck trapped betwixt her powerful thighs (it’s a big desk!) but one should never presume. Anyways, Vonn Richter enters.
Vonn Richter: Privet, Comrade! Uh, Miss Comrade!
He stands there proudly, expecting to be complimented for the five seconds of effort it took him to google how to greet his boss in her native tongue. He waits for a good while.
Irina Ivanova: You wished to meet Comrade Richter?
Vonn Richter: Yeah, I mean Da! I got something to ask you.
The Red Angel taps her cigar in the glass ashtray adorning her desk.
Irina Ivanonva: So ask.
Vonn Richter: It’s about my spot here in Alpha Pro. Like, for the last month I’ve been killing it in the ring, and establishing myself as a force of nature.
Irina Ivanova: This is not asking, Comrade Richter. This is, how you Americans say, shilly shallying?
Vonn Richter: Uh, that doesn’t sound very American to me. Maybe it’s French?
Irina Ivanova: Your point, please.
Vonn Richter: I want a bigger role in Alpha Pro.
She eyed him curiously.
Irina Ivanova: You are asking for a title shot?
Vonn Richter: No, Unless you’re offering one?
Irina Ivanova: I am not.
Richter sadfaces. Then he remembers what he came for.
Vonn Richter: Well, how about Spartan’s old gig?
The request genuinely piqued Irina’s curiosity.
Irina Ivanova: You wish to become the new Commissar of Violence?
Vonn Richter: Not exactly. I mean, I don’t need an official title to jack people up! I want to become APW’s Czar of Swoll.
Irina didn’t follow.
Irina Ivanova: What is ‘swoll’?
Vonn Richter: Me! I’m swoll!
He tears off his shirt and strikes a vacuum pose: simultaneously expanding his rib cage while exhaling all of the air from his lungs. The effect is to highlight his muscled upper body above a narrowed abdominal column.
Irina scrunches up her face in distaste.
Irina Ivanova: Put your shirt back on, Comrade Richter.
Except he can’t, because the shirt is now ripped to rags. He picks up the pieces and holds them in front of his chest. He looks slightly embarrassed.
Irina Ivanova: Why are you wanting to be Alpha Pro’s Czar of Swoll?
Vonn Richter: To get this company in shape! There are too many skinny fat asses on this roster! Too many Dad bods. As the Czar of Swoll I will call out the people who are not making any effort to improve their physiques, and force them to either shape up, or ship out!
Irina thought about what Vonn was asking.
Irina Ivanova: This sounds like you are trying to start trouble, Comrade Richter. That is why I am not saying no.
Vonn smiles.
Irina Ivanova: Yet.
Vonn’s smile vanishes.
Irina Ivanova: Do you wish to be paid more for being Czar of Swoll?
Vonn Richter: Ye-
Irina glares at him.
Vonn Richter: -no. This is all about getting everyone to maximize their gains! It’s like a charity, almost! Of course I’ll do it for free!
Irina Ivanova: Very good. Then you may be Alpha Pro Wrestling’s Czar of Swoll.
Vonn Richter: AWESOME!!! Do I get a badge, like Spartan did?
Irina Ivanova: We can make you a badge.
Vonn Richter: Can I fire people who don’t get with the program?
Irina laughed.
Irina Ivanova: Of course not.
Vonn Richter: Can I fine them?
Irina Ivanova: NO. You can do what you do best, Comrade Richter. You can, what did you say, ‘jack them up’? Yes, that is your power as the Czar of Swoll. Use it wisely. Better yet, do not use it wisely.
She grinned evilly at Richter, and then began to laugh. Her laugh got louder and more raucous to the point that it began scaring Vonn. Was she having some kind of freak-out? He had heard the rumors: the Red Angel was some kind of Russian super spy, like Black Widow but for real. Maybe something he said triggered her sleeper cell programming. Or maybe it was something she saw? Maybe that’s why she didn’t want to see his exposed pecs! Now that she had, her brainwashing had kicked in and now she was primed to go and kill the President, which, that’s politics, but Vonn could be collateral damage! No good conspiracy can afford to have witnesses! Vonn gave his still cackling employer an uneasy smile and cautiously back his way out of the room.
*******
Vonn Richter is dressed as a cowboy; well a cowboy stripper. He glares at the camera.
Vonn Richter: There’s a new sheriff in town, and he is me: the Czar of Swoll.
He points to the badge on his leather vest. It has a strip of masking tape across it that does indeed read CZAR OF SWOLL in block lettering.
Vonn Richter: Spartan shirked his responsibilities but I won’t. I will call out anyone on the roster who is not making the maximum effort to look like a ‘wrestling superstar’, which is ALMOST ALL OF YOU! The only ones who have MY RESPECT by their names is Sarah Lacklan and Mrs. Sarah Lacklan because Sarah’s GOT DEM GLUTES! The rest of you, oh boy, do you need work!
Vonn Richter: Let’s start with my next two opponents for Monday Night Metal. Now, for true, Alex Scott is pretty cut! In a different world we could hang. We could hit the gym together, do some clangin’ and bangin’ and then score some chicks. But Scott is the tag team partner of my blood nemesis Dakota Joseph Franco in another company, and for that he must suffer. I will not focus on his gains, but his losses, and he’s got a lot of them! I will DESTROY Alex Scott to send a message to Franco!
Vonn Richter: Then there is the Prince of Pain Aaron Blaze. Mister Bilocation himself. Look it up if you don’t know what it means!! This pale bastard needs to hit the tanning booth if he wants ME to take him seriously. Get with the program Aaron. You aren’t part of a Hollywood Undead cover band. You are an ALPHA PRO WRESTLING PRO WRESTLER! Look the part or I will take you apart!
Vonn removes two cap pistols from their holsters and fires them into the air.
Vonn Richter: Time for my topical reference. This is APW, not Red Dead Redemption. There is no Redemption for those of you who refuse to tow the line. Just the Red of your blood on my hands and the fact you will be Dead. Alex Scott and Aaron Blaze are the first outlaws I will bring in but they won’t be the last. YIPPIE KAI YAI AYE mother fuckers! Time to bring out the big guns!!!!
The promo ends with Vonn throwing aside his prop pistols, shrugging out of his vest, and flexing his bulging biceps.
Vonn Richter: Privet, Comrade! Uh, Miss Comrade!
He stands there proudly, expecting to be complimented for the five seconds of effort it took him to google how to greet his boss in her native tongue. He waits for a good while.
Irina Ivanova: You wished to meet Comrade Richter?
Vonn Richter: Yeah, I mean Da! I got something to ask you.
The Red Angel taps her cigar in the glass ashtray adorning her desk.
Irina Ivanonva: So ask.
Vonn Richter: It’s about my spot here in Alpha Pro. Like, for the last month I’ve been killing it in the ring, and establishing myself as a force of nature.
Irina Ivanova: This is not asking, Comrade Richter. This is, how you Americans say, shilly shallying?
Vonn Richter: Uh, that doesn’t sound very American to me. Maybe it’s French?
Irina Ivanova: Your point, please.
Vonn Richter: I want a bigger role in Alpha Pro.
She eyed him curiously.
Irina Ivanova: You are asking for a title shot?
Vonn Richter: No, Unless you’re offering one?
Irina Ivanova: I am not.
Richter sadfaces. Then he remembers what he came for.
Vonn Richter: Well, how about Spartan’s old gig?
The request genuinely piqued Irina’s curiosity.
Irina Ivanova: You wish to become the new Commissar of Violence?
Vonn Richter: Not exactly. I mean, I don’t need an official title to jack people up! I want to become APW’s Czar of Swoll.
Irina didn’t follow.
Irina Ivanova: What is ‘swoll’?
Vonn Richter: Me! I’m swoll!
He tears off his shirt and strikes a vacuum pose: simultaneously expanding his rib cage while exhaling all of the air from his lungs. The effect is to highlight his muscled upper body above a narrowed abdominal column.
Irina scrunches up her face in distaste.
Irina Ivanova: Put your shirt back on, Comrade Richter.
Except he can’t, because the shirt is now ripped to rags. He picks up the pieces and holds them in front of his chest. He looks slightly embarrassed.
Irina Ivanova: Why are you wanting to be Alpha Pro’s Czar of Swoll?
Vonn Richter: To get this company in shape! There are too many skinny fat asses on this roster! Too many Dad bods. As the Czar of Swoll I will call out the people who are not making any effort to improve their physiques, and force them to either shape up, or ship out!
Irina thought about what Vonn was asking.
Irina Ivanova: This sounds like you are trying to start trouble, Comrade Richter. That is why I am not saying no.
Vonn smiles.
Irina Ivanova: Yet.
Vonn’s smile vanishes.
Irina Ivanova: Do you wish to be paid more for being Czar of Swoll?
Vonn Richter: Ye-
Irina glares at him.
Vonn Richter: -no. This is all about getting everyone to maximize their gains! It’s like a charity, almost! Of course I’ll do it for free!
Irina Ivanova: Very good. Then you may be Alpha Pro Wrestling’s Czar of Swoll.
Vonn Richter: AWESOME!!! Do I get a badge, like Spartan did?
Irina Ivanova: We can make you a badge.
Vonn Richter: Can I fire people who don’t get with the program?
Irina laughed.
Irina Ivanova: Of course not.
Vonn Richter: Can I fine them?
Irina Ivanova: NO. You can do what you do best, Comrade Richter. You can, what did you say, ‘jack them up’? Yes, that is your power as the Czar of Swoll. Use it wisely. Better yet, do not use it wisely.
She grinned evilly at Richter, and then began to laugh. Her laugh got louder and more raucous to the point that it began scaring Vonn. Was she having some kind of freak-out? He had heard the rumors: the Red Angel was some kind of Russian super spy, like Black Widow but for real. Maybe something he said triggered her sleeper cell programming. Or maybe it was something she saw? Maybe that’s why she didn’t want to see his exposed pecs! Now that she had, her brainwashing had kicked in and now she was primed to go and kill the President, which, that’s politics, but Vonn could be collateral damage! No good conspiracy can afford to have witnesses! Vonn gave his still cackling employer an uneasy smile and cautiously back his way out of the room.
*******
Vonn Richter is dressed as a cowboy; well a cowboy stripper. He glares at the camera.
Vonn Richter: There’s a new sheriff in town, and he is me: the Czar of Swoll.
He points to the badge on his leather vest. It has a strip of masking tape across it that does indeed read CZAR OF SWOLL in block lettering.
Vonn Richter: Spartan shirked his responsibilities but I won’t. I will call out anyone on the roster who is not making the maximum effort to look like a ‘wrestling superstar’, which is ALMOST ALL OF YOU! The only ones who have MY RESPECT by their names is Sarah Lacklan and Mrs. Sarah Lacklan because Sarah’s GOT DEM GLUTES! The rest of you, oh boy, do you need work!
Vonn Richter: Let’s start with my next two opponents for Monday Night Metal. Now, for true, Alex Scott is pretty cut! In a different world we could hang. We could hit the gym together, do some clangin’ and bangin’ and then score some chicks. But Scott is the tag team partner of my blood nemesis Dakota Joseph Franco in another company, and for that he must suffer. I will not focus on his gains, but his losses, and he’s got a lot of them! I will DESTROY Alex Scott to send a message to Franco!
Vonn Richter: Then there is the Prince of Pain Aaron Blaze. Mister Bilocation himself. Look it up if you don’t know what it means!! This pale bastard needs to hit the tanning booth if he wants ME to take him seriously. Get with the program Aaron. You aren’t part of a Hollywood Undead cover band. You are an ALPHA PRO WRESTLING PRO WRESTLER! Look the part or I will take you apart!
Vonn removes two cap pistols from their holsters and fires them into the air.
Vonn Richter: Time for my topical reference. This is APW, not Red Dead Redemption. There is no Redemption for those of you who refuse to tow the line. Just the Red of your blood on my hands and the fact you will be Dead. Alex Scott and Aaron Blaze are the first outlaws I will bring in but they won’t be the last. YIPPIE KAI YAI AYE mother fuckers! Time to bring out the big guns!!!!
The promo ends with Vonn throwing aside his prop pistols, shrugging out of his vest, and flexing his bulging biceps.
