Posted by Hayato/Drake/Rain on Apr 1, 2020 18:58:48 GMT -5
DISCLAIMER: This is FULLY IN CHARACTER! It does NOT reflect my actual views on any character and is for comedic purposes only.
A swing band cover of “Devil Trigger” plays as a graphic appears on the screen in golden, shiny cursive, letting us all know that this is The Heavenly Herald with Drake Connors. Drake steps out from behind the curtain and looks upward.
Drake Connors: Dude, they KNOW this is The Heavenly Herald. It’s the fucking title of the RP!
Well, excuse me for trying to inject some dramatic flair into the inaugural episode of the EPIC version of HH!
Drake Connors: Shaddup, writer monkey... Anyway, folks, we’ve got one helluva sheeew for youse guys tonight, so let’s get to it. The Masked Singer is on tonight, and I don’t wanna miss JC Keeton’s elimination and unmasking.
Drake strides languidly to sit behind a desk and shuffles a few papers.
Drake Connors: “Languidly”? Seriously, who talks like that? Besides, we both know these papers are blank and I’m just riffing.
Yes, WE know that, but they don’t! Well, didn’t, till you opened your big mouth and acted like a smartass!
Drake Connors: (shrugs) ‘S what I do, mang. You should know that by now. Anyway, let’s get to it already. First up, Dragan Hillbilly! Okay, dude, we get it, you’re Welsh. Nobody cares. Speak proper English, m’kay? Also, I think at some point I accidentally turned off the subtitles, so nobody knows what the hell you said for a couple of paragraphs there. Sorry ‘bout that, chief. Well, no, not really. It was funny to see everyone’s puzzled faces as you jabbered away in that language containing way too many consonants and not understand a single feckin’ thing that came out of your Freddie Mercury mustache mouth.
Drake Connors: Moving on... Some goober named Ryan Shane thinks it’s a good idea to continue provoking Graham Baker... Your funeral dude, though I don’t for one second understand why these two are fighting over JC in the first place. Guy must really know how to work the shaft and cradle the balls.
DUDE! No gay jokes! That’s totally insensitive!
Drake Connors: It wasn’t a joke. I really don’t understand what’s so appealing about Keeton. Dude’s a cocky little spit-fuck. (shrugs) Maybe if they explained why they were so on his jock I’d get it.
They kinda did.
Drake Connors: Nnnnot really. “He’s my friend!” “Nuh-uh, he’s MY friend! You’ve been replaced!” “Why? WHY?! WHYYYYY?!?” Not one word about what’s so special about JC that they have to fight over him like a couple’a love-sick hood rat ratchet basic bitches.
Come on, man... Stop shitting on their story—
Drake Connors: NO! This is MY show, and I’ll say what I want! You just type the words and shut up, writer monkey! *ahem* Let’s continue, shall we?
Oh, god...
Drake Connors: Shaddup, ya pansy. The Dalmons... Or should I call them the Lannisters, because there seems to be some Cersi/Jamie action going on between those two. You just KNOW they’ve got some three armed, eight legged, three-dicked cyclops locked in the incest attic. Get a room, you sick fucks! Nobody in the EPIC Nation wants to see and brother and sister basically boink each other on Amazon Prime. Ya’ll disgusting.
Drake Connors: Moving right along before I vomit, JC Kweefton and “Hungry” Fat Jobson, or whatever that tubbo’s name is, fucked up and lost to the Wyld Stallyns because, shocker, JC sucks and knocked Jobson out of the ring because he forgot to activate his deadeye aim (that one’s for you, Danny). Then after Fatman and Ribbon left the ring in shame, the Lannisters showed up and creeped everyone out for three minutes propositioning the Wyld guys either for a match or an orgy, it was hard to tell. Either way, barf. NEXT!
Drake flings a blank page over his shoulder, pretending he’d read all of that because he’s an idiot who forgot he’d already revealed the papers are blank.
Drake Connors: Do you WANT me to crawl out of the phone you’re tapping this out on and kick your ass? Because I’ll do it! Anyway... Ōkami no Ame showed up, finally, but just to do a skit with my wife, who apparently knows who the guy is, a fact he’s kept hidden from me for years... Seriously, Ana, tell me who the hell he is!
The voice of Analicia Morales-Connors from behind the curtain yells “Not a chance, hot pants!”, much to Drake’s frustration.
Drake Connors: Not fair, writer monkey. So, yeah, Wolfboy gets to debut at EPIC’s first pay per view, Ana knows who he is and won’t tell me (glares at the curtain), and Nanners is a sick fuck. Yeah, not the best segue, fuck off. The bananaman got his ass kicked by Chiaki, and got so frustrated he tried to kill her by stuffing one of his children down her throat, killing the poor, innocent banana. Guess that’s one way to get out of child support, though you’ll have to get rid of the whole bunch, Nanners m’man.
Drake Connors: Man, poor Diablo Blanco. Dude sets his own ass afire and then wasn’t allowed to compete because Dr. Shady Assfart wouldn’t clear him. But at least he got some Taco Bell out of the deal (with no onions because onions are gross)! And, hey, EPIC has a new official sponsor! Not too shabby for a guy who was wrestling in a kiddie pool before joining EPIC!
Drake Connors: Then Muru finally convinced me he wasn’t trying to molest my son and really is just trying to help, so, uh, thanks? (shrugs) Then Scar’s name got way more appropriate after Hix gave him a Glasgow Grin and some new ink. Aaaaallrighty, then. There are easier ways to show that you’re nuts, but you do you, Hixxy.
Drake Connors: Then it was Game Over for Daniel Dream as by brother from a Japanese mother locked in that heel hook I taught him and Danny boy tapped the floor more frantically than a noob pounding buttons in a game of Tekken. No visually impaired refs in sight this time. Congraturations, a Winner is You, Hayato!
Drake Connors: And then yours truly beat up some guy with feathered 80’s rock n roll hair in a little over two minutes and had an interesting and friendly confabulation with the tiny but feisty Dizzie about OUR upcoming friendly throwdown at Rebirth... Plus I’m pretty sure she looked at my ass as I walked away. Don’t kill her, Ana! Everyone does it. Forget Chris Evans, MY ass is America’s Ass.
Drake smirks a bit.
Drake Connors: Kweefton made excuses to Jobson next. Yawn. Woulda been more enjoyable if Fatman had eaten JC and he had to cut his way out of the fat guy like he was a tauntaun, but nooo, just friendly jabber. *sigh*
Drake becomes visibly excited for the next bit.
Drake Connors: And then my boy, MY son, finally, FINALLY, got to take it to the man who messed his mind up by beating on his mother right in front of him for the first few years of his life. For ten long years he’s held that pain and fury in his chest, and when he finally let it out? Got-damn! Junkie Josh didn’t know what hit him! When the boy called me “dad” for the first time EVER, I’ll admit, I got a little verklempt, a little teary eyed... So I smacked Lokamp’s face into the concrete a few times because I don’t emotion good. I’ve never been prouder of my son.
Drake sniffs a bit, then continues.
Drake Connors: ‘Course I sniffed a bit! It was an emotional moment! Heartless ass! Anyway, Ryan Shane won his match against a Pokémon, then had another tiff with Baker about JC... Guys, work out a time share or something. Jeez.
Drake Connors: I already spoke about Diablo Blanco’s Taco Bell deal, which is really awesome for the guy, so let’s skip ahead to my SECOND most proudest moment of my son’s night, picking up the win over that sexist ass Frank Lowe. For a second it looked like Lowe was gonna unmask the kid and reveal the worst kept secret identity since mine when I played Captain Tightass in WwcF, but the Teenage Mutant Nutty Turtle saved the day and damn near knee-capped Lowe, which gave my kid the opening he needed to seal the deal and put mister “I Don’t Fight Girls Because Cooties” away! If Terra hadn’t done it, I was halfway to running out and punching Lowe in the head myself. Anyway, well done, both of you, and that Muru guy too, I s’pose. Good luck when you and my boy face off, though.
Drake Connors: Anyway, that’s about all the time Amazon, Ana, and Quinn decided to let me have this week, so until next time... FOOK OFF!!!
A swing-band cover of “The In-Between” plays as the scene fades to black...
A swing band cover of “Devil Trigger” plays as a graphic appears on the screen in golden, shiny cursive, letting us all know that this is The Heavenly Herald with Drake Connors. Drake steps out from behind the curtain and looks upward.
Drake Connors: Dude, they KNOW this is The Heavenly Herald. It’s the fucking title of the RP!
Well, excuse me for trying to inject some dramatic flair into the inaugural episode of the EPIC version of HH!
Drake Connors: Shaddup, writer monkey... Anyway, folks, we’ve got one helluva sheeew for youse guys tonight, so let’s get to it. The Masked Singer is on tonight, and I don’t wanna miss JC Keeton’s elimination and unmasking.
Drake strides languidly to sit behind a desk and shuffles a few papers.
Drake Connors: “Languidly”? Seriously, who talks like that? Besides, we both know these papers are blank and I’m just riffing.
Yes, WE know that, but they don’t! Well, didn’t, till you opened your big mouth and acted like a smartass!
Drake Connors: (shrugs) ‘S what I do, mang. You should know that by now. Anyway, let’s get to it already. First up, Dragan Hillbilly! Okay, dude, we get it, you’re Welsh. Nobody cares. Speak proper English, m’kay? Also, I think at some point I accidentally turned off the subtitles, so nobody knows what the hell you said for a couple of paragraphs there. Sorry ‘bout that, chief. Well, no, not really. It was funny to see everyone’s puzzled faces as you jabbered away in that language containing way too many consonants and not understand a single feckin’ thing that came out of your Freddie Mercury mustache mouth.
Drake Connors: Moving on... Some goober named Ryan Shane thinks it’s a good idea to continue provoking Graham Baker... Your funeral dude, though I don’t for one second understand why these two are fighting over JC in the first place. Guy must really know how to work the shaft and cradle the balls.
DUDE! No gay jokes! That’s totally insensitive!
Drake Connors: It wasn’t a joke. I really don’t understand what’s so appealing about Keeton. Dude’s a cocky little spit-fuck. (shrugs) Maybe if they explained why they were so on his jock I’d get it.
They kinda did.
Drake Connors: Nnnnot really. “He’s my friend!” “Nuh-uh, he’s MY friend! You’ve been replaced!” “Why? WHY?! WHYYYYY?!?” Not one word about what’s so special about JC that they have to fight over him like a couple’a love-sick hood rat ratchet basic bitches.
Come on, man... Stop shitting on their story—
Drake Connors: NO! This is MY show, and I’ll say what I want! You just type the words and shut up, writer monkey! *ahem* Let’s continue, shall we?
Oh, god...
Drake Connors: Shaddup, ya pansy. The Dalmons... Or should I call them the Lannisters, because there seems to be some Cersi/Jamie action going on between those two. You just KNOW they’ve got some three armed, eight legged, three-dicked cyclops locked in the incest attic. Get a room, you sick fucks! Nobody in the EPIC Nation wants to see and brother and sister basically boink each other on Amazon Prime. Ya’ll disgusting.
Drake Connors: Moving right along before I vomit, JC Kweefton and “Hungry” Fat Jobson, or whatever that tubbo’s name is, fucked up and lost to the Wyld Stallyns because, shocker, JC sucks and knocked Jobson out of the ring because he forgot to activate his deadeye aim (that one’s for you, Danny). Then after Fatman and Ribbon left the ring in shame, the Lannisters showed up and creeped everyone out for three minutes propositioning the Wyld guys either for a match or an orgy, it was hard to tell. Either way, barf. NEXT!
Drake flings a blank page over his shoulder, pretending he’d read all of that because he’s an idiot who forgot he’d already revealed the papers are blank.
Drake Connors: Do you WANT me to crawl out of the phone you’re tapping this out on and kick your ass? Because I’ll do it! Anyway... Ōkami no Ame showed up, finally, but just to do a skit with my wife, who apparently knows who the guy is, a fact he’s kept hidden from me for years... Seriously, Ana, tell me who the hell he is!
The voice of Analicia Morales-Connors from behind the curtain yells “Not a chance, hot pants!”, much to Drake’s frustration.
Drake Connors: Not fair, writer monkey. So, yeah, Wolfboy gets to debut at EPIC’s first pay per view, Ana knows who he is and won’t tell me (glares at the curtain), and Nanners is a sick fuck. Yeah, not the best segue, fuck off. The bananaman got his ass kicked by Chiaki, and got so frustrated he tried to kill her by stuffing one of his children down her throat, killing the poor, innocent banana. Guess that’s one way to get out of child support, though you’ll have to get rid of the whole bunch, Nanners m’man.
Drake Connors: Man, poor Diablo Blanco. Dude sets his own ass afire and then wasn’t allowed to compete because Dr. Shady Assfart wouldn’t clear him. But at least he got some Taco Bell out of the deal (with no onions because onions are gross)! And, hey, EPIC has a new official sponsor! Not too shabby for a guy who was wrestling in a kiddie pool before joining EPIC!
Drake Connors: Then Muru finally convinced me he wasn’t trying to molest my son and really is just trying to help, so, uh, thanks? (shrugs) Then Scar’s name got way more appropriate after Hix gave him a Glasgow Grin and some new ink. Aaaaallrighty, then. There are easier ways to show that you’re nuts, but you do you, Hixxy.
Drake Connors: Then it was Game Over for Daniel Dream as by brother from a Japanese mother locked in that heel hook I taught him and Danny boy tapped the floor more frantically than a noob pounding buttons in a game of Tekken. No visually impaired refs in sight this time. Congraturations, a Winner is You, Hayato!
Drake Connors: And then yours truly beat up some guy with feathered 80’s rock n roll hair in a little over two minutes and had an interesting and friendly confabulation with the tiny but feisty Dizzie about OUR upcoming friendly throwdown at Rebirth... Plus I’m pretty sure she looked at my ass as I walked away. Don’t kill her, Ana! Everyone does it. Forget Chris Evans, MY ass is America’s Ass.
Drake smirks a bit.
Drake Connors: Kweefton made excuses to Jobson next. Yawn. Woulda been more enjoyable if Fatman had eaten JC and he had to cut his way out of the fat guy like he was a tauntaun, but nooo, just friendly jabber. *sigh*
Drake becomes visibly excited for the next bit.
Drake Connors: And then my boy, MY son, finally, FINALLY, got to take it to the man who messed his mind up by beating on his mother right in front of him for the first few years of his life. For ten long years he’s held that pain and fury in his chest, and when he finally let it out? Got-damn! Junkie Josh didn’t know what hit him! When the boy called me “dad” for the first time EVER, I’ll admit, I got a little verklempt, a little teary eyed... So I smacked Lokamp’s face into the concrete a few times because I don’t emotion good. I’ve never been prouder of my son.
Drake sniffs a bit, then continues.
Drake Connors: ‘Course I sniffed a bit! It was an emotional moment! Heartless ass! Anyway, Ryan Shane won his match against a Pokémon, then had another tiff with Baker about JC... Guys, work out a time share or something. Jeez.
Drake Connors: I already spoke about Diablo Blanco’s Taco Bell deal, which is really awesome for the guy, so let’s skip ahead to my SECOND most proudest moment of my son’s night, picking up the win over that sexist ass Frank Lowe. For a second it looked like Lowe was gonna unmask the kid and reveal the worst kept secret identity since mine when I played Captain Tightass in WwcF, but the Teenage Mutant Nutty Turtle saved the day and damn near knee-capped Lowe, which gave my kid the opening he needed to seal the deal and put mister “I Don’t Fight Girls Because Cooties” away! If Terra hadn’t done it, I was halfway to running out and punching Lowe in the head myself. Anyway, well done, both of you, and that Muru guy too, I s’pose. Good luck when you and my boy face off, though.
Drake Connors: Anyway, that’s about all the time Amazon, Ana, and Quinn decided to let me have this week, so until next time... FOOK OFF!!!
A swing-band cover of “The In-Between” plays as the scene fades to black...