You’d think one of these days, Daniel Pollaski might actually shoot a promo, from you know, his own home, but today is evidently not that day. Mainly because there is no way in hell Daniel Pollaski is going to be fitting a full sized arcade cabinet in his apartment anytime soon. As we fade in, Daniel Pollaski and Terrence Thompson are playing on it- a rail shooter that not coincidentally goes by the name Revolution-X. Both men are standing side by side, playing the game, and with sounds of explosions and screams coming from the game.
In the midst of all this, Wendy walks by. She pauses as she sees her husband and manager playing an arcade game, one that, judging by her expression, she had no idea they actually had. She notices the title of the game, and frowns. She then glances to the side, and sees the camera, and her frown deepens.
Wendy: “Oh no. No no no no no!”
Wendy marches to the wall where the game is plugged in, and with a yank, pulls the cord from the wall. And just like that, the game is shut off, immediately followed by a disappointed groan from Terrence and Pollaski.
Terrence: “Whadya do that for?”
Wendy: “I believe I specifically said no more SVW promos being shot in this house.”
Pollaski: “Why? Your stupid boycott of SVW is ov-“
Wendy shakes her head.
Wendy: “It’s not that. It’s that… everytime you’ve shot a promo for SVW… you’ve managed to destroy my living room.”
Momentary pause.
Pollaski: “Okay, so I crashed through your living room window ONCE. That doesn’t mean that every time..”
Wendy: “And the time before that, you drilled holes in my ceiling rigging stage lighting. It took three hours of spackling to fix it. And another week to get you and Terrence to stop trying to see who can say ‘spackle’ in the funniest voice.”
Terrence: “Well, you gotta admit, it’s a fun word to say. SPACKLE!”
Long pause, with Wendy staring at her husband, who finally acquiesces and bows his head.
Terrence: “Sorry.”
Pollaski: “Geez, give us a break, Wendy. It’s a video game, for crying out loud. Terrence and I play these every day. This just happens to be a standalone arcade cabinet.”
Wendy: “Yeah. Where did you get this?”
Short pause.
Terrence: “Pollaski knows this guy…
Wendy takes a deep breath, and sighs.
Wendy: “I should have guessed. So what is this? Some sort of shooting game?”
PollaskI: “No, it’s a sports game, Wendy. That’s why there’s a freaking GUN MOUNTED ON IT.”
Wendy narrows her eyes and gives Pollaski a look that indicates in no uncertain terms that his sarcasm is not appreciated. She looks up at the cabinet again, reading the title.
Wendy: “Revolution-X. This isn’t a game where you shoot Johnny Moxie, is it?”
Pollaski: “Nah. Moxie was like four when this came out, as opposed to just acting like he’s four like he does now. Essentially, it’s about this evil government who abducts one of the greatest rock bands of all time, and you have to liberate them.”
Wendy: “Oh! Air Supply!”
Horrified silence. Pollaski and Terrence’s jaws are both pretty much on the floor here.
Pollaski: “Wha…?”
Wendy points to the arcade cabinet.
Wendy: “I see it now. With the A in the circle and the wings. That stands for Air Supply, right? I like them! I’m all outta love… I’m so lost without you…”
Even though Wendy has a very nice singing voice, this causes Pollaski to look over at Terrence.
Pollaski: “Dude…”
Terrence: “I can’t. She’s my wife. There’s laws and shit.”
Pollaski sighs.
Pollaski: “OY! CASSIE!”
Wendy stops singing as Cassandra DeSlair comes walking into the picture.
Cassie: “Yes?”
Pollaski: “Wendy here just thought Aerosmith was Air Supply.”
Cassie: “I see.”
*SMACK!*
Wendy: “OW!”
Wendy’s caught completely off guard as Cassie slaps her across the face, turns on her heel, and walks away. Wendy holds her cheek for a second, then pulls her hand away, looking at it to see if she’s bleeding. Evidently, she’s not.
Wendy: “This is NOT the kind of example we should be setting for my daughter!”
Terrence, of course, has shown such indignant outrage over his wife being slapped, he’s gone back to plugging in the machine. Wendy, realizing she’s getting zero empathy here, looks back at the game.
Wendy: “So is it any good? This Aerosmith Revolution-X thingie?”
Pollaski looks back at the game, pauses for several seconds, then turns back to Wendy.
Pollaski: “No. The graphics are ugly. The game play is horrible. The collision detection is non-existant. It’s mindlessly repetitive while thinking its cutting edge and cool. And essentially it uses its lame-ass Aerosmith license to suker unsuspecting people into wasting their money. Just like how the real Revolution X are ugly people who are horrible wrestlers who hit like four year old girls, do and say the exact same shit every week, and use chairs to rob good wrestlers of deserving victories. I’d say the wrestling group is pretty close to their namesake, and I can’t wait for my girlfriend and I, along with creepy male nympho –dude, to put those bastards in their place.”
Wendy: “If it’s so lousy, then why did you buy it?”
There’s a long pause, while Terrence and Pollaski exchange glances.
Wendy: “There’s a sledgehammer on the other side of the game, isn’t there?”
Terrence scoffs.
Terrence: “No. Why do you always think Pollaski and I are just going to destroy-“
Terrence is cut off as Wendy walks over to the cabinet, reaches over the other side. Pollaski and Terrence cringe as Wendy pulls out a sledgehammer, and holds it in her arms, glaring at her husband and manager. Again, Pollaski and Terrence exchange glances.
Pollaski: “To be fair, Terrence TOTALLY wanted to use a flame-thrower.”
Terrence: “DUDE!”
Wendy continues to just stand there, icily staring at her husband and manager, as both men slowly begin to get the hint.
Pollaski: “Welp, love to stay and chant, but I got training to do.”
Pollaski quickly leaves the scene. Terrence takes one look at Wendy, and then the sledgehammer she’s holding.
Terrence: “I’ll come with you. I’ll show you how to do the Saskatchewan Spinning Nerve Hold.”
Pollaski: “Dude. Why do I need to know that? I can do an armbar.”
The door slams behind them, leaving Wendy alone in the living room. Rolling her eyes, she sets the sledgehammer up against the arcade game, and turns to walk back towards the kitchen. She takes a step, and looks back at the machine, then over at the kitchen, then back at the machine. Sighing, she pats her jean pockets, and reaches into her left one, procuring a couple quarters. The scene cuts out with Wendy bending over to deposit the coins into the player one slot.
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