Post by serranopoblano on Apr 27, 2022 14:02:19 GMT -5
Following his surprise appearance on Pursuit of the Ring, Project: Honor’s Triple A Champion, Serrano Poblano, has sequestered himself inside his Hotter Than Hell Test Kitchen. He has not only done this out of fear of losing his prized championship, but also to prepare for what could be the fight of his life. With the lives of his friends hanging in the balance, Serrano has been hard at work inventing a new element of spice…a man-made masterpiece that will give him the strength, speed, and agility necessary to overcome a dangerous foe such as…Dafoe. Fortunately for us, he has left a camera rolling to record this stupendous moment in time.
The counters of his test kitchen are cluttered with steaming pots and pans, smoking beakers, and hand-written notes (in cursive) that are haphazardly strung about. The man in question is wearing a long, white lab coat and a pair of safety goggles as he paces back and forth. His perfectly spiked hair betrays the fact that he has not slept for days, and even more surprisingly, he has barely taken a break to eat. Not far away is his dear friend, Noah Hope, who watches Serrano with a look of concern.
SERRANO POBLANO: Agent Alan Ward…Thomas Wake…Special Agent Paul Smecker…Norman Osbourne…Sergeant Elias Groden…Jesus Christ of Nazareth…J.G. Jopling…which face will you show me at Disputed Territory, Willem? Have I truly concocted a recipe that will prepare me for any one of them?
He continues to mutter to himself, contemplating the many roles that Willem Dafoe has not just played, but inhabited. Unbeknownst to Serrano and Noah, high above their heads, an incredibly gross cockroach is crawling across the ceiling. Then, due to the evaporation from the assorted pots and pans, the disgusting insect loses its grip and plummets downward into an open beaker of mysterious sauce.
NOAH HOPE: I still say we need to go back to formula…
SERRANO POBLANO: There’s no time. He may very well murder and devour El Puma, Guy, and Rapture. Needless to say, the world would be a much darker place without their loving ways. My secret sauce remains untested but if the calculations that Cal Culus and Trig O’Nometry provided are correct, it may hold the secret to my success.
NOAH HOPE: Serrano, please, the performance enhancers aren’t ready! The data just doesn’t justify this test. Now I’m asking you for the last time, we can’t do this!
SERRANO POBLANO: Don’t be a coward. Risks are a part of kitchen science.
NOAH HOPE: Let me reschedule. With a proper sous chef and a volunteer. I mean, if you just give me two weeks…
SERRANO POBLANO: Two weeks?! In two weeks I’ll have lost to Willem Dafoe and our friends will be dead. Sometimes, you’ve gotta do things yourself. Get me the pestochloraparascene.
NOAH HOPE: For what?
SERRANO POBLANO: It begins catalyzation when the vapor hits the bloodstream
Meanwhile, the cockroach desperately tries to free itself from the beaker, but to no avail. Mere moments later, Noah reluctantly grabs the test tube and hands it over to Serrano. With a determined look in his eyes, he holds the tube up and stares at it…
SERRANO POBLANO: Forty thousand years of evolution and we’ve barely even tapped the vastness of spicy potential…
With that, Serrano puts the beaker to his lips and chugs down every last drop of sauce, cockroach included.
COCKROACH: Oh fuck meeeeeeee….!
After ingesting the sauce, he violently throws the beaker to the floor, shattering it like some kind of mad scientist or movie villain. As Noah continues to observe with great concern, Serrano sits down on the kitchen counter and begins to strap a modified blender to his head. Once it’s secure, he then places a meat thermometer under his tongue before sliding his fingers into the open slot of a toaster.
SERRANO POBLANO: Oh…that’s cold…
Serrano then gives Noah a nod of his head, and reluctantly, Hope plugs in the toaster and blender. Serrano takes a deep breath before moving his fingers against the toaster’s exposed wiring as a green mist whirls around his head from the blender strapped on top of it. Then, unsurprisingly, Serrano falls into a fit of gurgling convulsions.
NOAH HOPE: Serrano? Oh god…
An egg timer goes off somewhere in the background, and confusing it for an EKG monitor, Noah quickly unplugs the machines before rushing to the side of his friend.
NOAH HOPE: Oh god, oh god, oh god…Serrano!
Noah rips the makeshift helmet off of Serrano’s head, and without checking for a pulse, he begins to perform chest compressions. Then, as if waking from the dead, Serrano’s eyes shoot open and he wraps his hand around Noah’s neck.
SERRANO POBLANO: Back to formula?!
With a mighty shove, Serrano sends Noah hurtling backwards through a large pane of glass that actually served no purpose in being there in the first place. Then, with his friend unconscious, Serrano leaps to his feet on the countertop, his facial features twisted as he hisses at the camera.
SERRANO POBLANO: The power…coursing through my veins…it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before! It’s as if the sewer system of my arteries has been flushed out and replaced by Phaal Curry! I have the undeniable urge to eat garbage and sleep in Amber Heard's shit-soaked sheets!
Serrano then leaps off the counter, performing a triple somersault in mid-air before landing directly in front of the camera.
SERRANO POBLANO: Willem Dafoe…my foe…you made a fatal mistake when you threatened the lives of my friends. Now the end of times will rain down upon your head, and within the toxic fallout of my flatulence, only the cockroach will survive. No longer will you face the inept and dim-witted Serrano Poblano at Disputed Territory…Now you face…EL CUCARACHA! MWHA HA HA HA HA HA!!!
Serrano continues to cackle as he looks to the heavens, the stage now set for his epic showdown with Willem Dafoe…
The counters of his test kitchen are cluttered with steaming pots and pans, smoking beakers, and hand-written notes (in cursive) that are haphazardly strung about. The man in question is wearing a long, white lab coat and a pair of safety goggles as he paces back and forth. His perfectly spiked hair betrays the fact that he has not slept for days, and even more surprisingly, he has barely taken a break to eat. Not far away is his dear friend, Noah Hope, who watches Serrano with a look of concern.
SERRANO POBLANO: Agent Alan Ward…Thomas Wake…Special Agent Paul Smecker…Norman Osbourne…Sergeant Elias Groden…Jesus Christ of Nazareth…J.G. Jopling…which face will you show me at Disputed Territory, Willem? Have I truly concocted a recipe that will prepare me for any one of them?
He continues to mutter to himself, contemplating the many roles that Willem Dafoe has not just played, but inhabited. Unbeknownst to Serrano and Noah, high above their heads, an incredibly gross cockroach is crawling across the ceiling. Then, due to the evaporation from the assorted pots and pans, the disgusting insect loses its grip and plummets downward into an open beaker of mysterious sauce.
NOAH HOPE: I still say we need to go back to formula…
SERRANO POBLANO: There’s no time. He may very well murder and devour El Puma, Guy, and Rapture. Needless to say, the world would be a much darker place without their loving ways. My secret sauce remains untested but if the calculations that Cal Culus and Trig O’Nometry provided are correct, it may hold the secret to my success.
NOAH HOPE: Serrano, please, the performance enhancers aren’t ready! The data just doesn’t justify this test. Now I’m asking you for the last time, we can’t do this!
SERRANO POBLANO: Don’t be a coward. Risks are a part of kitchen science.
NOAH HOPE: Let me reschedule. With a proper sous chef and a volunteer. I mean, if you just give me two weeks…
SERRANO POBLANO: Two weeks?! In two weeks I’ll have lost to Willem Dafoe and our friends will be dead. Sometimes, you’ve gotta do things yourself. Get me the pestochloraparascene.
NOAH HOPE: For what?
SERRANO POBLANO: It begins catalyzation when the vapor hits the bloodstream
Meanwhile, the cockroach desperately tries to free itself from the beaker, but to no avail. Mere moments later, Noah reluctantly grabs the test tube and hands it over to Serrano. With a determined look in his eyes, he holds the tube up and stares at it…
SERRANO POBLANO: Forty thousand years of evolution and we’ve barely even tapped the vastness of spicy potential…
With that, Serrano puts the beaker to his lips and chugs down every last drop of sauce, cockroach included.
COCKROACH: Oh fuck meeeeeeee….!
After ingesting the sauce, he violently throws the beaker to the floor, shattering it like some kind of mad scientist or movie villain. As Noah continues to observe with great concern, Serrano sits down on the kitchen counter and begins to strap a modified blender to his head. Once it’s secure, he then places a meat thermometer under his tongue before sliding his fingers into the open slot of a toaster.
SERRANO POBLANO: Oh…that’s cold…
Serrano then gives Noah a nod of his head, and reluctantly, Hope plugs in the toaster and blender. Serrano takes a deep breath before moving his fingers against the toaster’s exposed wiring as a green mist whirls around his head from the blender strapped on top of it. Then, unsurprisingly, Serrano falls into a fit of gurgling convulsions.
NOAH HOPE: Serrano? Oh god…
An egg timer goes off somewhere in the background, and confusing it for an EKG monitor, Noah quickly unplugs the machines before rushing to the side of his friend.
NOAH HOPE: Oh god, oh god, oh god…Serrano!
Noah rips the makeshift helmet off of Serrano’s head, and without checking for a pulse, he begins to perform chest compressions. Then, as if waking from the dead, Serrano’s eyes shoot open and he wraps his hand around Noah’s neck.
SERRANO POBLANO: Back to formula?!
With a mighty shove, Serrano sends Noah hurtling backwards through a large pane of glass that actually served no purpose in being there in the first place. Then, with his friend unconscious, Serrano leaps to his feet on the countertop, his facial features twisted as he hisses at the camera.
SERRANO POBLANO: The power…coursing through my veins…it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before! It’s as if the sewer system of my arteries has been flushed out and replaced by Phaal Curry! I have the undeniable urge to eat garbage and sleep in Amber Heard's shit-soaked sheets!
Serrano then leaps off the counter, performing a triple somersault in mid-air before landing directly in front of the camera.
SERRANO POBLANO: Willem Dafoe…my foe…you made a fatal mistake when you threatened the lives of my friends. Now the end of times will rain down upon your head, and within the toxic fallout of my flatulence, only the cockroach will survive. No longer will you face the inept and dim-witted Serrano Poblano at Disputed Territory…Now you face…EL CUCARACHA! MWHA HA HA HA HA HA!!!
Serrano continues to cackle as he looks to the heavens, the stage now set for his epic showdown with Willem Dafoe…