Mail Call

Roleplay Roleplay by KURTIS RAY
On Thu, Jul27, 2017 11:54pm America/Phoenix
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Mail Call
(A video clicks to life, displaying a leather sofa with a low glass table in front of it, laden with various parcels. The camera adjusts up and down, finally coming completely int focus. After a moment, Kurtis Ray appears from off screen, taking a seat on the couch. He lifts up what appears to be a remote, clicking it a couple of times to zoom the camera in closer, then leans back with a bemused expression.)

KURTIS: So It's come to my attention, been crammed down my throat, really, that people have been worried about me, since the whole deal with Syndicate screwing me out of the Crusade Cup, me screwing myself out of the WWX Undisputed championship, and then completely falling apart in a match with whatever #JakeIdol is calling himself these days. Wannabe DJ loser is the number one contender now? How far we've fallen.

(Kurtis sighs, shaking his head and leans forward, tenting his fingers in front of his face.)

KURTIS: Whatever, Doesn't really matter right now. And I know I'm booked on the triumphant return of Friday Night Fury under Jason Bourne or Evan Bourne or New Bourne or whatever the devil his name is. And I'll be there, never you fret. First Fury of a new era? I'll sure as hell be there to make some kinda mark. With the brilliant talent that I've been paired up with, it's almost guaranteed to be the kind of match that makes you go 'meh.' I've beaten every other person in that ring clean, so I don't think there's much else to say, is there?

(Kurtis smirks, picking up one of the parcel's off the table, flipping it over in his hands.)

KURTIS: I got a buttload of mail lately, from fans that still stuck with me through my dark turn. I guess I'm supposed to be grateful? I mean these are the people who cheered for Syndicate when he screwed me over. I'm gonna open up this mail, and I appreciate the good will, but don't think this changes anything.

(Kurtis rips open the first parcel, producing a T-shirt. He holds it up so he can see what's printed on it and snorts before turning it around to the camera. It's clear he's trying not to laugh. The shirt is plain other than a poorly drawn gold star with the words "You Lost" on it.)

KURTIS: Caught me off guard with this one. Pretty good, universe. Cute. Next!

(He pauses for a moment before pulling the shirt over his head, revealing it to be far to small, but he is unphased as he gathers another parcel. This one is larger and something heavy is in it, judging by the 'clump' it makes when the box hits the table. Kurtis struggles with the tape for a moment, finally getting it open. He looks shocked, covering his mouth with one hand before taking out the contents to show it to the camera. It is an almost perfect replica of the undisputed championship title, except it has been modified so the word "champion" is replaced with the word "CHUMP.")

KURTIS: WWX Undisputed Chump, Kurtis Ray. Alright, guys, you might just be winning me back. This is outstanding. I think this belt might be my new favorite. I might just have to start bringing this to the ring with me.

(Kurtis laughs, admiring the belt, and slinging it over his shoulder.)

KURTIS: Whoever sent this, thank you. I know a lot of work went into it, and I honestly appreciate the gift. I know I turned my back on you guys, entirely over sour grapes. Doesn't change how I feel about Syndicate, dude is slime, and I will hate the fact you guys cheer for him and feed his delusion to the end of time... But on Fury, you might just see the hype train come home.

(Kurtis' eyes fall on another large box, though this one is surprisingly fancy compared to the others. He lifts it up on the table, removing an envelope from the top that appears to be a card.)

KURTIS: There's no return address. Huh.

(Kurtis fishes out a folded piece of paper. The mirth disappears from his face as he regards the paper, and his eyebrows furrow.)

KURTIS: The time for talk is over? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

(Kurtis turns the card for the camera, revealing the handwritten note in block text. There is no signature and nothing obvious to identify who sent it to him. Kurtis examines the box for a moment looking for how it opens. Finally he pulls off a piece of paper tape and lifts the flap. There is a pop and a hissing sound, and Kurtis jumps as the box blasts confetti into the air.)

KURTIS: A glitter bomb? Really? Motherf-

(Suddenly there is another, much louder blast of noise, the a bright flash before the feed cuts to an ominous "Signal Lost.")

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