Noise
October 22nd, 2006, 04:10 PM
The scene cuts to Voltaire pacing in his dark room illuminated only by a small candle. Yeah. Nothing new. What? The light flashes on! That room had a light? Who knew? Voltaire is looking pretty annoyed by the light and stares at the doorway, where Carl Tuckerson is standing, probably in hopes of getting an interview. Voltaire attacks him with his uh, voice. Tuckerson shrugs him off.
Voltaire: What in the hell do you think you’re doing?
Tuckerson: I’m about to get an interview.
Voltaire: From who?
Tuckerson: You, if you don‘t mind.
Voltaire: Well, I do. Close the door and shut the light off on your way out.
Tuckerson hesitates, but leaves, knowing that Voltaire wouldn’t hesitate to kill him. Voltaire goes back to his pacing. After a few moments, the light flashes on again, and the door slams open and it’s “Schlomo” Joe Rother. Voltaire walks up to Schlomo and grabs him by the collar.
Voltaire: And what the f*ck do you want?
Schlomo: Hey dude, chill out, all I want is an interview.
Voltaire: Well, go interview someone else.
Schlomo: Duuuuddeeeee, what’s your problem? You won your match last week; you moved on, you should be happy.
Voltaire has the uh… “I’m going to f*cking kill you” look in his eyes. Schlomo’s pager starts beeping.
Schlomo: Oh, hey dude, can we do this another time? It's Simpson’s mom. I’m gunna get me some action tonight.
Voltaire: …
Voltaire pushes Schlomo away, and causes him to fall into the hallway from the force of it. Voltaire kills the light, and slams the door, and tries to enjoy his pacing again, until…
*knock-knock*
Voltaire looks in awe that he’s been interrupted again. He opens the door, and without bothering to see who it is, he grabs the man and is about to punch him until he realizes that it’s James Simpson, his boss. Oh sh*t.
Simpson: What in the HELL do you think you are doing?
Voltaire releases Simpson and steps back a few. Simpson straightens up his suit, and continues.
Simpson: You really must be crazy. Do you want to be out a job?
Voltaire is still rather pissed, but manages to hold off on making any mistakes here. He just shakes his head once.
Simpson: Good. Then you’d better get ready for your match, it’s next. And if you EVER lay a hand on me again, and you WILL be regretting it, is that understood?
Voltaire nods, and Simpson leaves, shutting the door. Voltaire proceeds to take a chair and throw it at a wall, while letting out a scream of anger. Screen fades out.
Voltaire: What in the hell do you think you’re doing?
Tuckerson: I’m about to get an interview.
Voltaire: From who?
Tuckerson: You, if you don‘t mind.
Voltaire: Well, I do. Close the door and shut the light off on your way out.
Tuckerson hesitates, but leaves, knowing that Voltaire wouldn’t hesitate to kill him. Voltaire goes back to his pacing. After a few moments, the light flashes on again, and the door slams open and it’s “Schlomo” Joe Rother. Voltaire walks up to Schlomo and grabs him by the collar.
Voltaire: And what the f*ck do you want?
Schlomo: Hey dude, chill out, all I want is an interview.
Voltaire: Well, go interview someone else.
Schlomo: Duuuuddeeeee, what’s your problem? You won your match last week; you moved on, you should be happy.
Voltaire has the uh… “I’m going to f*cking kill you” look in his eyes. Schlomo’s pager starts beeping.
Schlomo: Oh, hey dude, can we do this another time? It's Simpson’s mom. I’m gunna get me some action tonight.
Voltaire: …
Voltaire pushes Schlomo away, and causes him to fall into the hallway from the force of it. Voltaire kills the light, and slams the door, and tries to enjoy his pacing again, until…
*knock-knock*
Voltaire looks in awe that he’s been interrupted again. He opens the door, and without bothering to see who it is, he grabs the man and is about to punch him until he realizes that it’s James Simpson, his boss. Oh sh*t.
Simpson: What in the HELL do you think you are doing?
Voltaire releases Simpson and steps back a few. Simpson straightens up his suit, and continues.
Simpson: You really must be crazy. Do you want to be out a job?
Voltaire is still rather pissed, but manages to hold off on making any mistakes here. He just shakes his head once.
Simpson: Good. Then you’d better get ready for your match, it’s next. And if you EVER lay a hand on me again, and you WILL be regretting it, is that understood?
Voltaire nods, and Simpson leaves, shutting the door. Voltaire proceeds to take a chair and throw it at a wall, while letting out a scream of anger. Screen fades out.