Post by Deleted on Oct 26, 2015 5:25:36 GMT -5
The scene opens at the Lions Den training facility, where The Crimson Baroness is strolling down the corridor after a hard day’s work - ever since she accidentally gave Chris Bond chlamydia he’s been riding her harder than, well, she ever rode him.
As she passes an open door, The Crimson Baroness stops to do a double take. Inside, sitting alone, is none other than Valcone; he’s still missing his mask after having it stolen, and his mood hasn’t bettered over the last few weeks.
“My dear Valcone,” she says, leaning against the door frame; her crimson lips turn upwards in a smile at the sight of him, “what are you doing here all by yourself?”
“They took my mask… ripped my identity right away from me.” Valcone grumbles, “And you wanna know what the worst part of all this is?! They act like they’re innocent! Like they didn’t do anything! But I know…” Mac--Valcone wags his finger up in the air and shakes his head vigorously, “... I know that it was them! Who else could it be?! NASTY Nest? I don’t think so! He’s the reason I put on the stupid thing because he stuck his DISGUSTING ARMPIT IN MY FACE! UGH!!! I can still feel his sweat particles all over my face!” He covers his face with his hands, wiping down his cheeks as if he were removing Nest’s sweat from it.
She ponders for a second, “They being…” she pauses, briefly, “...Donnie and Bree?”
“Yes THEM! Tweedle Dee and Tweedle NASTY!” he hisses. “With their stupid slang words that sound like GENERIC brand beauty products. I hate them! I hate them so much!” Trying to calm himself down, Valcone sits back down and looks as if he’s ready to cry.
The Baroness walks into the room, closing the door behind her (and the cameraman) as she takes a seat on the bench next to Valcone. A hand placed gently on his thigh as her voice drops to little more than a breathy whisper, “It’s such a shame what they’re doing to you…”
“So… So you think it’s them too?” he asks.
“Of course I do, sweetie.” The Baroness assures him, “He used to be such a nice boy too, but ever since he’s been associating with that Brat, Donnie’s become somewhat of a rascal.”
“A RASCAL?! HE’S NOT A RASCAL! I LIKE THE LITTLE RASCALS! He’s more of a ferret! A stinky, fury, bucktoothed ferret who thinks it’s sooooooo funny to pick on me! He’s… He’s… He’s the worst person in the history of ugly people! He’s even worse than Joey Mcintyre and Jordan Knight’s solo careers!” he huffs and puffs, doing whatever he can to prevent another explosion. “I hate him. I hate Bree. I hate their stupid” he throws his hands up in front of his face and tries to sign, “motions they do with their abnormally long fingers. I hate everything about them both. You know what? I hate Emily too!”
“She probably filled his head with all these ideas. She wants powerful friends, that one, and everybody else around here has wised up to her games…” The Baroness giggles, “...sad, really. She’s so poisonous, and Donnie seems to be infected…” she says without a trace of irony.
“Well… She does kind of resemble a snake and that’s what snakes do.” Valcone replies with a laugh.
“And that Bree’s no better either,” she scoffs, “so jealous and insecure; you should see the way she always clung to Donnie’s arm whenever I was around. Because she knew I could have him just like that-” she snaps her fingers, “-if I wanted. It was truly pathetic. Just like how she resents you for doing what she never could; she sees your matches on FGA shows, the chance to perform in front of the big crowds, and she wants it. She saw the legion of fans that Prince MacRear had…” the mention of the name causes Valcone to glare at her.
“He was a pretty well liked guy, wasn’t he?” Valcone replies, a half smirk forming on his face.
“He really was. But The Brat probably wanted you to suffer the same indignities that have befallen her.” The Baroness mews, sweetly. “To try and embarrass you, to humiliate you. And that’s just not fair.”
“OHH. OHHHHH. SHE DOES LOOK LIKE SOMEONE WHO WOULD DO SUCH AN UGLY THING! WHY THAT NO GOOD, ROTTEN, BEADY EYED BIMBO! I’ll… I’ll… I’ll do something to her, but I just don’t know what yet!” Valcone’s mood changes once again, the smirk on his face fading away and his hands now back over his face to ensure The Baroness wouldn’t see him cry.
“I hate to see you suffer like this, sweetie.” The Baroness coos in his ear, “So I’m going to do you a favor.”
Valcone looks at her curiously, wiping the tears away from his cheeks before he speaks up.
“You’re gonna help me get my mask back?” Valcone asks.
“Exactly…”
As she passes an open door, The Crimson Baroness stops to do a double take. Inside, sitting alone, is none other than Valcone; he’s still missing his mask after having it stolen, and his mood hasn’t bettered over the last few weeks.
“My dear Valcone,” she says, leaning against the door frame; her crimson lips turn upwards in a smile at the sight of him, “what are you doing here all by yourself?”
“They took my mask… ripped my identity right away from me.” Valcone grumbles, “And you wanna know what the worst part of all this is?! They act like they’re innocent! Like they didn’t do anything! But I know…” Mac--Valcone wags his finger up in the air and shakes his head vigorously, “... I know that it was them! Who else could it be?! NASTY Nest? I don’t think so! He’s the reason I put on the stupid thing because he stuck his DISGUSTING ARMPIT IN MY FACE! UGH!!! I can still feel his sweat particles all over my face!” He covers his face with his hands, wiping down his cheeks as if he were removing Nest’s sweat from it.
She ponders for a second, “They being…” she pauses, briefly, “...Donnie and Bree?”
“Yes THEM! Tweedle Dee and Tweedle NASTY!” he hisses. “With their stupid slang words that sound like GENERIC brand beauty products. I hate them! I hate them so much!” Trying to calm himself down, Valcone sits back down and looks as if he’s ready to cry.
The Baroness walks into the room, closing the door behind her (and the cameraman) as she takes a seat on the bench next to Valcone. A hand placed gently on his thigh as her voice drops to little more than a breathy whisper, “It’s such a shame what they’re doing to you…”
“So… So you think it’s them too?” he asks.
“Of course I do, sweetie.” The Baroness assures him, “He used to be such a nice boy too, but ever since he’s been associating with that Brat, Donnie’s become somewhat of a rascal.”
“A RASCAL?! HE’S NOT A RASCAL! I LIKE THE LITTLE RASCALS! He’s more of a ferret! A stinky, fury, bucktoothed ferret who thinks it’s sooooooo funny to pick on me! He’s… He’s… He’s the worst person in the history of ugly people! He’s even worse than Joey Mcintyre and Jordan Knight’s solo careers!” he huffs and puffs, doing whatever he can to prevent another explosion. “I hate him. I hate Bree. I hate their stupid” he throws his hands up in front of his face and tries to sign, “motions they do with their abnormally long fingers. I hate everything about them both. You know what? I hate Emily too!”
“She probably filled his head with all these ideas. She wants powerful friends, that one, and everybody else around here has wised up to her games…” The Baroness giggles, “...sad, really. She’s so poisonous, and Donnie seems to be infected…” she says without a trace of irony.
“Well… She does kind of resemble a snake and that’s what snakes do.” Valcone replies with a laugh.
“And that Bree’s no better either,” she scoffs, “so jealous and insecure; you should see the way she always clung to Donnie’s arm whenever I was around. Because she knew I could have him just like that-” she snaps her fingers, “-if I wanted. It was truly pathetic. Just like how she resents you for doing what she never could; she sees your matches on FGA shows, the chance to perform in front of the big crowds, and she wants it. She saw the legion of fans that Prince MacRear had…” the mention of the name causes Valcone to glare at her.
“He was a pretty well liked guy, wasn’t he?” Valcone replies, a half smirk forming on his face.
“He really was. But The Brat probably wanted you to suffer the same indignities that have befallen her.” The Baroness mews, sweetly. “To try and embarrass you, to humiliate you. And that’s just not fair.”
“OHH. OHHHHH. SHE DOES LOOK LIKE SOMEONE WHO WOULD DO SUCH AN UGLY THING! WHY THAT NO GOOD, ROTTEN, BEADY EYED BIMBO! I’ll… I’ll… I’ll do something to her, but I just don’t know what yet!” Valcone’s mood changes once again, the smirk on his face fading away and his hands now back over his face to ensure The Baroness wouldn’t see him cry.
“I hate to see you suffer like this, sweetie.” The Baroness coos in his ear, “So I’m going to do you a favor.”
Valcone looks at her curiously, wiping the tears away from his cheeks before he speaks up.
“You’re gonna help me get my mask back?” Valcone asks.
“Exactly…”