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Muscle Returns!; NFN #42 - RP 1
Topic Started: Jan 29 2014, 01:11 PM (81 Views)
Maksimilian
Member Avatar
NEWera Rookie
[ * ]
Central Park
New York City, New York


We open in a white Central Park, a small crowd of people gathered in the light snow to observe a completely shirtless, completely huge Maksimilian. He seems to have turned this small section in the park into his own personal Muscle Beach, with a squat rack and weight bench set up to the right of the view. He himself is going through some stretches. The Bethesda Fountain can be seen in the distance.

Abruptly the view starts shaking amidst cursing. "These fuckin' things... so many goddamn..." The camera drops and focuses in on a crotch mostly obscured by an overhanging beer gut. "Jesus!" The gut wobbles enticingly as the mystery figure continues to struggle, eventually pulling it up, giving the viewer a guided tour of a stout, unfortunate body, swathed in a coat and scarf. He's turning away from the camera toward Maks, who is now getting himself under the squat rack. "Hey, can we edit shit out on this thing?"

"Hanh??"

Harold Lombardi rolls his eyes and faces the camera. A squat man who looks like he's on the bad side of fifty, taking a cigar out of his mouth as he favors the camera with a sleazy smile. "Hello, NEWera. Lemme introduce myself. My name is Harold Lombardi, and the schmuck behind me is Maksimilian - but I think yer already acquainted." Harold takes a second to puff on his cigar, streams of undulating and no-doubt foul-smelling smoke flowing from his nostrils and mouth. Maksimilian begins his warm-up reps. "Think 'a me as a manager an' trainer all in one. A Renaissance man. Plus, English is my first language, unlike the bozo."

Harold flicks ash. "Can you believe he thought tossin' a salad had something t'do with food? Hah!"

"Anyway, first off, I want to thank NEWera's bookin' team for going easy on Maks. Startin' fresh again ain't too easy, an' 'Fearsome' Crest Falcon,"
with luxurious air-quotes, "is just the sorta low-impact guy he needs to knock off all that ring rust. I'll admit, back in my early fresh-faced days up in the city, it was always a treat to watch good ol Crest 'Calculating' Falcon whenever he got a chance to hit the scene up there. I'm a big fan, Cresticular, don't get me wrong, but don't get mad at me when Maksimilian gets a little too rowdy and busts all th' bones in yer arm."

Maks grunts as he racks a ponderous amount of weight onto the bar. He shouts over, "Old man! Be a bit nice, eh? It is all friendly competition!" He puts the weight on his neck and hoists it up - people clap, it's a great time. Lombardi makes a fart noise with his mouth.

"Pffrrrppppt!"

It's super gross.

He clamps the cigar back in his teeth. "With that outta the way, lemme clear the air on a couple'a things Crestest-the-Best-in-a-Vest brought up. I asked Maks what all this perewhatever and glasthing was about, an' he ain't never heard of 'em, so I think you just made up some words and blasted 'em outta yer ass. That's fear-mongering, an' it's a dirty trick. The crowd's gonna love Maks 'cause he's a good guy an' a hell of a fighter, an' I won't have you draggin' his name down with a bunch of scary foreign words."

"Number two, as you can all clearly see, Maks's leg is completely healed after his inhumanly brutal beating at the hands'a Blake Blomberg, Tommy Zeller, an' Mike Voland at Vindication, right here in New York City. He's rehabbed, he's trained back up, an' he's stronger than ever, an' just between you, me, and my left nut, don't be surprised if he comes looking for some payback."
Harold turns and shouts, "Hey! Leave off the squats! Do some curls and then take a lap!"

Maks responds, "Da!" and racks the weight, stretching out before sitting down at the weight bench, reaching below the camera's field of view for the dumbbells. Harold once again turns toward the camera, shivering for a second. "Russian psycho. At least wear a vest instead of rubbin' it in." He loudly clears his throat, hawks, and spits to the side.

"An' finally, most importantly, Maksimilian has absolutely nothing to do with any Communist conspiracies to damage the American government." On cue, Maks begins doing alternating bicep curls, holding a big heavy-looking hammer in one hand and a dense sickle in the other. "Personally I ain't sure he can spell Communism, much less understand the complex socio-economic structures that would be necessary to create a true, working classless system. While it is true that he owns a copy of the Communist Manifesto, it was given to him as a gift by an extremist family member. I repeat: Maksimilian is not a Communist."

Maks lifts the hammer and sickle over his head, grinning to a clapping and laughing crowd. *in russian* "{Workers of the world, unite!}"

"Wh-- oh Jesus, Joseph, and Mary!"

Harold executes an impressive spin and slams his hand down on the camera lens. A few moments later, the video ends.
AIM: pat@friendpeople.org || OOC Twitter: @ThePatware || IC Twitter: REALMaksimilian

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1x NEWera North American champion (4/14 - )
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