WINDS OF CHANGE
THIS IS A SUBMISSION FROM LOCAL TALENT TO PRIME TAG TEAM SURVIVOR! WE HAVE CHOSEN OUR FINAL COMPETITOR FOR TAG TEAM SURVIVOR! THE FOLLOWING IS THE VIDEO SUBMITTED!
Voice 1: Hey, is this thing working? I never did one of these before.
The screen shakes chaotically, the image of the person holding the camera blurring by as they struggle to figure out which end is the right one.
Voice 2: Joe, maybe you should let me work the phone.
Voice 1: No, no, no, wait, I got it, I got it.
He decidedly does not have it.
The video feed blurs by several times, and then briefly cuts to black.
After a few seconds more of the sounds of fumbling confusion, the view becomes steady. A young man with green eyes and his black hair done in the dumbest topknot possible takes up most of the screen, as though he’s taking a selfie. He wears a suit without a tie, but the jacket is so obnoxiously and loudly green that you’d think the man was Irish and not mostly Italian.
You don’t know it yet, but his name is Joe Fontaine.
Joe Fontaine: Heyyy. There we go! Hey, Sid, look! Figured out the camera.
Sid Phillips: Amazing.
Sid Phillips’s sarcasm can be felt from the dark parts of space, where only outer gods dwell and didn’t even care to notice. Not that the man holding the phone really cares himself, though. He mugs for his phone camera like a liquid that’s more sugar than coffee.
Joe Fontaine: We’re here in fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada! Yeah, boy-eeee!
Behind Joe, a lot of people are giving him strange stares. That’s because they’re being filmed in a McDonalds in Vegas. Joe and Sid are seated in a corner, far and away from the odd stares that the pair are now getting because of the volume of Joe’s voice.
The video feed blurs as Joe turns the phone around and points it at Sid, a very large man whose body could be used to grate cheese. Sid gives the phone a tired look, the kind that suggests that he had a headache.
Joe Fontaine: Hey, Sid! Say something for the camera!
Sid shakes his head, but acquiesces.
Sid Phillips: Something for the camera.
Joe Fontaine: Great!
Joe turns his phone back towards himself, giving the viewing audience a good view of his right nostril for a moment before pulling it back a bit.
Joe Fontaine: Well, we decided to stop by McDonalds because we were hungry, and…
Sid Phillips: (interrupting) For the love of all that’s holy, Joe, we’re not promoting McDonalds for this thing. Not for free, anyway. Maybe if some McDonalds marketing director was here right now, we could swing that and maybe get like ten bucks and a free Whopper or something, but that’s not happening.
Joe Fontaine: Well, no. Of course not. Whoppers are from Burger King.
Sid Phillips: That’s not really my point…
Joe Fontaine: Yeah, but think about it. What if they did offer Whoppers? It would change the game. All of the games, even! Many games would change as we know it. It would be hysteria. MASS hysteria. You suddenly add Burger King Whoppers to the McDonalds menu, and you’ve got mayhem. Taco Bell would have to go and get Blizzards from Dairy Queen. Dairy Queen would have to get, I don’t know, the Baconator. Which I think is a sandwich that can’t be bargained with. A sandwich that doesn’t feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And it will absolutely not stop, ever, until you are fed.
Sid Phillips: Joe, we’ve known each other since we were five. So trust me when I tell you that I’m about six… no, five seconds from powerbombing you through this table.
It is a McDonalds table, so putting him through one of those would take some kind of effort. A kind of effort that Sid Phillips would love to exert if it means stopping Joe from continuing his tangent. Joe knows this, and visibly gulped on-screen.
Joe Fontaine: Okay, okay, geez.
He turns his attention back to his camera.
Joe Fontaine: Alright, so the folks at home or whoever gets to watch this might be wondering who we are! Don’t you think they’re wondering who we are, Sid?
Sid Phillips: If I said ‘yes’, would it get you to your point sooner? Why didn’t you let me do this?
Joe Fontaine: (ignoring him) Alright! So this…
He flips the phone so that he pointed the camera at Sid. Unfortunately, this means that the camera is shooting upside-down. Sid visibly rolls his eyes and tries to cooly pick up and eat a French fry.
Joe Fontaine: This is Sid Phillips. Riot, some might call him. He’s the master of the Exploding Cyclone Homicide Driver!
Joe smiles like that was the best thing in the world about his best friend.
Sid Phillips: Alright. Sure. I didn’t pick the name, but sure, I’ll claim mastery of that thing.
Joe then turns the phone back towards himself. Right-side up, this time.
Joe Fontaine: And I’m Joe Fontaine. The Tempest!
He makes his free hand into a claw shape, and whips it around a few times as though that denotes what his nickname was.
Joe Fontaine: We’re just a couple of second-generation wrestler boys out of Phoenix. You can call us the Winds of Change. Sound familiar? It could! Anyway, we’re just a couple of real cool customers. The coolest, actually. In fact, some call me Smooth Joey Cool.
Sid Phillips: You’re the only one who calls you that.
Joe Fontaine: They don’t know that. Why’d you tell them? Oh, but hey, speaking of names and all, are you going to take Baron’s advice and add a ‘von’ in the middle of your name? You know, “Riot” Sid von Phillips? You’d be great at parties.
Sid Phillips: For the record, I’m going to have PRIME foot the bill when I powerbomb you through this table if you keep saying stuff like that.
Joe smiles, and returns to looking at the phone.
Joe Fontaine: Anyhoodle, the two of us, we’re going to enter this whole Survivor thing. It should be great! Especially when we win. Winning’s the best part.
Joe flips the phone back over to show Sid. Sid’s mouth is full of Big Mac. Sid glares at the phone, the burger halfway in his mouth. He growls a bit at it. How dare you.
Joe Fontaine: Don’t you think so, Sid?
Sid swallows his food.
Then he reaches over, quick as a coiled snake, and snatches the phone from Joe’s hand.
Sid Phillips: That’s enough of that.
The scene turns topsy-turvy as Sid fumbles with the device, gifting viewers with a stellar view of half of his thumb as he stares down at the phone.
Sid Phillips: Seriously, were you livestreaming this to the PRIME people? Holy shit, Joe, your cell phone bill is going to go through the roof. Yeah, I’m shutting this down now. I hope they don’t kick us out for this shit.
Joe Fontaine: Wait, wait, wait!
More fumbling around, and then… black.