Post by Cassius H Kissinger on Apr 19, 2023 1:28:54 GMT -6
Cassius H Kissinger, a veritable mystery, stands proudly with hands on hips and his chest as puffed out as possible. His mask slightly askew and his cape completely flapless from the windless day, The All-American Casshole waits patiently in the middle of a sketchy-at-best looking alleyway. Cameraman Tim Donner (CHK's #1 and #Only fan) gives the man a non-verbal countdown from five before hitting the button and everything goes live. Cassius stands there unawares for several seconds. Tim clears his throat, just enough to snap our Superhero into action! Bang! He punches the air and pauses in that position.
"CINCO DE QUATRO! You are all going to experience a most magnificent masterpiece. Grizzly Duggan, God bless his slightly-less well-bearded soul, he called me on the pay phone on the border of Ohio and Canada. I have been spending time at Mama Kissinger's place and I... well, until now, I have not had a job. Eheh..."
He scratches his head as he finally breaks the impressive punching pose. With a flap of his cape he runs down the alleyway. As he returns, surprisingly winded from the fifteen second sprint, Kissinger checks the watch that isn't on his wrist before placing his hands on his knees to catch his breath.
"I may not know who I must face. I may not have been employed. I may not impress you. But I... am a SUPERHERO! BE AMAAAAAAZED AT MY..."
He makes a play to lift the big green dumpster next to him. Fucking clown shoes over here doesn't even get the big metal box on wheels to do so much as budge. He stops way after the point he should've, thoroughly embarrassing himself.
"WE-HELL... BE AMAZED... AT..."
Kissinger's eyes dart left to right as he tries to figure out a cool thing to do. Unremarkably, he hops onto the brick wall and sort of kicks himself off. Cassius barely even lands whatever that was and flexes triumphantly.
"PARKOOOOOOOOOOOUR, YEAH!"
He points at the camera like the angry monkey in Chris Griffin's closet!
"WE ARE GOING TO THE NETHERLANDS. WE... well, Cassius H Kissinger will be in the Best of Rampage Tournament the Third. He will prove that any man from, let us say Boston, Massachusetts, could be the next United States champion. Even if they forgot their car keys!"
That same finger swirls up into the sky!
"So whether it comes to pass that it will be Andrea Hernandez or Pheonix Winterborn, Ace King or Melody Malone, Moxie or Lavender in the first round of the Best of Rampage Tournament the Third... IT DOES NOT MATTER WHEN THE SUPERHERO COMES..."
Superhero pose.
"I, Cassius H Kissinger, hereby promise to solemnly swear to abide by all rules, regulations, terms, agreements, and standard operating procedures of Best of Rampage Tournament the Third. I, Cassius H Kissinger, hereby promise to solemnly swear to do this for the little man. For the forgotten heroes. For 9/11. For blind midgets. But must importantly."
He hocks a loogie onto the floor. It's more gross than anything. He returns to the pose.
"THE H... STANDS FOR HERO."
The feed fades.
"CINCO DE QUATRO! You are all going to experience a most magnificent masterpiece. Grizzly Duggan, God bless his slightly-less well-bearded soul, he called me on the pay phone on the border of Ohio and Canada. I have been spending time at Mama Kissinger's place and I... well, until now, I have not had a job. Eheh..."
He scratches his head as he finally breaks the impressive punching pose. With a flap of his cape he runs down the alleyway. As he returns, surprisingly winded from the fifteen second sprint, Kissinger checks the watch that isn't on his wrist before placing his hands on his knees to catch his breath.
"I may not know who I must face. I may not have been employed. I may not impress you. But I... am a SUPERHERO! BE AMAAAAAAZED AT MY..."
He makes a play to lift the big green dumpster next to him. Fucking clown shoes over here doesn't even get the big metal box on wheels to do so much as budge. He stops way after the point he should've, thoroughly embarrassing himself.
"WE-HELL... BE AMAZED... AT..."
Kissinger's eyes dart left to right as he tries to figure out a cool thing to do. Unremarkably, he hops onto the brick wall and sort of kicks himself off. Cassius barely even lands whatever that was and flexes triumphantly.
"PARKOOOOOOOOOOOUR, YEAH!"
He points at the camera like the angry monkey in Chris Griffin's closet!
"WE ARE GOING TO THE NETHERLANDS. WE... well, Cassius H Kissinger will be in the Best of Rampage Tournament the Third. He will prove that any man from, let us say Boston, Massachusetts, could be the next United States champion. Even if they forgot their car keys!"
That same finger swirls up into the sky!
"So whether it comes to pass that it will be Andrea Hernandez or Pheonix Winterborn, Ace King or Melody Malone, Moxie or Lavender in the first round of the Best of Rampage Tournament the Third... IT DOES NOT MATTER WHEN THE SUPERHERO COMES..."
Superhero pose.
"I, Cassius H Kissinger, hereby promise to solemnly swear to abide by all rules, regulations, terms, agreements, and standard operating procedures of Best of Rampage Tournament the Third. I, Cassius H Kissinger, hereby promise to solemnly swear to do this for the little man. For the forgotten heroes. For 9/11. For blind midgets. But must importantly."
He hocks a loogie onto the floor. It's more gross than anything. He returns to the pose.
"THE H... STANDS FOR HERO."
The feed fades.
