musclemothers (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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maskormenace2016-12-07 08:19 pm
musclemothers) wrote in maskormenace2016-12-07 08:19 pm
02 | VIDEO | MISFIRE
[The scene: a karaoke bar, decked out in holiday lights, a miserable, sticky looking place with miserable, sticky looking waitresses in sexy elf costumes.
The people: one Rusty Venture, currently wearing an ugly Christmas sweater and holding a martini glass that is not, from the looks of it, his first, and one THE MONARCH!!!!, one of the few imPorts whose eyebrows dwarf Rusty’s and wearing… what he’s always wearing, really. Though he has added a festive Santa hat over his crown.
Rusty squints into the camera, takes a hefty gulp of his drink, then says,] Sadie. Sadie, my dear, we are in need of someone to judge a little wager. This imbecile thinks he can outsing me, but we’ll leave it up to a woman of dignity and character to - to judge.
[Yeah, he’s drunk. But so is the Monarch, so at least it's an equal playing field?]
Yeah, like you know anyone of dignity and character, let alone a woman. [ The Monarch rolls his eyes. ] Did you pick a song yet?
Don’t rush genius. I swear, half of these have been done already... [Rusty props the communicator on a nearby table and hops onto the stage with an effeminate sort of flourish, scrolling through the songs available.] There. Twelve Days of Christmas.
[The karaoke midi file begins to play the intro, and so it begins.]
Twelve Days of-- Are you fucking kidding me? Everyone's done-- On the first day of Christmas my arch rival gave to meeee…
You can’t even sing the first line right? [Oh, shit, he missed his cue. Rusty’s voice isn’t pleasant, but he’s hitting the majority of the notes at least.] Oh, shit -- OntheseconddayofChristmas my true love gave to meeeee two turtle doves and a -- okay, see, there are lyrics there. On the screen. Are you illiterate?
[ The Monarch gives up early, talking through most of the next verse. ] Have you ever even done this whole Christmas song shit? Half the point is making it your own!
…And a partridge in a pear treeeeeee.
Come on! All Christmas is is a bunch of traditions stitched together. Why the hell else would people be singing this nonsense? People only want to hear what they’ve already heard before. But I should’ve known that you’d mess this up too. How drunk do I have to --
[oh. He missed a lot. But he’s not going to miss this one. He stretches one arm out like a spindly Liberace as he belts:] FIIIIVE GOLDEN RIIIIIIII--.
[ His arm almost hits the Monarch in the face, so the Monarch's gonna go ahead and just shove him off the stage (while Rusty emits a particularly high pitched screeching sound following a loud thump and a horrified declaration of I’m bleeding!) and the video cuts out as it devolves into the world's scrawniest, shriekiest karaoke bar brawl. ]
[ ooc ; if you need a reference point for these awful voices, you may find the Monarch singing with his wife HERE and Rusty's VA HERE. ]
The people: one Rusty Venture, currently wearing an ugly Christmas sweater and holding a martini glass that is not, from the looks of it, his first, and one THE MONARCH!!!!, one of the few imPorts whose eyebrows dwarf Rusty’s and wearing… what he’s always wearing, really. Though he has added a festive Santa hat over his crown.
Rusty squints into the camera, takes a hefty gulp of his drink, then says,] Sadie. Sadie, my dear, we are in need of someone to judge a little wager. This imbecile thinks he can outsing me, but we’ll leave it up to a woman of dignity and character to - to judge.
[Yeah, he’s drunk. But so is the Monarch, so at least it's an equal playing field?]
Yeah, like you know anyone of dignity and character, let alone a woman. [ The Monarch rolls his eyes. ] Did you pick a song yet?
Don’t rush genius. I swear, half of these have been done already... [Rusty props the communicator on a nearby table and hops onto the stage with an effeminate sort of flourish, scrolling through the songs available.] There. Twelve Days of Christmas.
[The karaoke midi file begins to play the intro, and so it begins.]
Twelve Days of-- Are you fucking kidding me? Everyone's done-- On the first day of Christmas my arch rival gave to meeee…
You can’t even sing the first line right? [Oh, shit, he missed his cue. Rusty’s voice isn’t pleasant, but he’s hitting the majority of the notes at least.] Oh, shit -- OntheseconddayofChristmas my true love gave to meeeee two turtle doves and a -- okay, see, there are lyrics there. On the screen. Are you illiterate?
[ The Monarch gives up early, talking through most of the next verse. ] Have you ever even done this whole Christmas song shit? Half the point is making it your own!
…And a partridge in a pear treeeeeee.
Come on! All Christmas is is a bunch of traditions stitched together. Why the hell else would people be singing this nonsense? People only want to hear what they’ve already heard before. But I should’ve known that you’d mess this up too. How drunk do I have to --
[oh. He missed a lot. But he’s not going to miss this one. He stretches one arm out like a spindly Liberace as he belts:] FIIIIVE GOLDEN RIIIIIIII--.
[ His arm almost hits the Monarch in the face, so the Monarch's gonna go ahead and just shove him off the stage (while Rusty emits a particularly high pitched screeching sound following a loud thump and a horrified declaration of I’m bleeding!) and the video cuts out as it devolves into the world's scrawniest, shriekiest karaoke bar brawl. ]
[ ooc ; if you need a reference point for these awful voices, you may find the Monarch singing with his wife HERE and Rusty's VA HERE. ]
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