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M.S.R.P. II • View topic - "That's Why They Call Me Nutter"

M.S.R.P. II

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PostPosted: Mon Apr 03, 2006 11:22 pm 
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As Bob walked down one of Jersey City’s streets, he couldn’t help think about how different things are here compared to the rest of America he’d visited, but then again those were touristy places and that was his problem. Bob dreamt about coming to America and winning big at Las Vegas with a few clever hands at poker but Lady Luck wasn’t a friend to the man people affectionately called “Nutter”. He quit his quit as a doorman and with his savings got on a plane from Heathrow Airport and flew non-stop to Las Vegas. When he arrived in Vegas he realised he had a huge problem…… He couldn’t gamble for shit, he lost money on the sports because he didn’t understand any of the games rules, he lost on the Poker because he could never keep a straight face when that big hand came up and he lost at Blackjack because he kept asking for another card just to get closer to 21, even if he already had 20.

So here the man was, he had the American Dream in his heart, a few dollars in his pocket and not a lot of sense in his head, but he felt people had achieved greater and more difficult things with higher odds stacked against them. With this in mind he looks round for a bar to spend a few dollars and a couple hours in.

Bob stops outside a rough looking bar declaring its name as “The Boardwalk”, somewhere deep inside he knows this is the type of place he’s looking for, so with a slight smile on his face he enters the bar. Inside “The Boardwalk” it is quite dark and dingy but to “Nutter” it feels just like home, he wanders over to the bar and orders a bottle of whatever generic brand of beer the bar serves, pays for it and with bottle in hand wanders over to the pool table. As he takes a swig of his beer, he takes note of the three men round the pool table having a game, all three men we’re going for the generic “Classic Rocker” look, the first one was wearing a faded Van Halen shirt, a shaved head and a small van-dyke style goatee, the second wore a heavily faded AC/DC shirt and was cleanly shaven but had long dark hair. The last wore a new looking Motorhead shirt, had long dark hair and a large grizzly beard, just to double check Bob looked down at himself and yes he fit the bill, with his well worn jeans, his generic shirt and leather coat, so without any hesitation he pulled out his last $300 (not counting the $150 or so he kept in his socks) and spoke to the three men.

“Hi, you one of you guys fancy a game of pool with $300 as a bet. Just to make things interesting?” said Bob in a slightly sleazy way that even he was surprised he could achieve, then suddenly he had the feeling he’d had the past weekend at Vegas, the feeling everything was going down the shitter.

The skinhead rocker, shifted his weight slightly and spoke ”Nah, but if you don’t mind Mr. Limey, we’ll take that money from you anyways” he said just before he swung for Bob. He cursed himself for rushing it, he brought out the money too soon, leaving himself open to a mugging. He barely dodged the punch from the skinhead, but while he was concentrated on the skinhead, the Motorhead guy had swung the pool cue in his hands at Bob and it thudded into his ribs, knocking some of the wind from him. Rolling with the blow, Bob threw a punch at the man’s stomach and then grabbed him by the shoulders and headbutted the guy square in the face, breaking his nose with a sickening crunch. As the Motorhead guy drops to the floor, Bob turns to see two pool cues being swung at his face and with no time to react they strike him with a force that knocks him to the ground, over the next few minutes or so while they kick and hit him, Bob realises he’s lost the fight. Soon after they grab “Nutter” and dump him outside the bar, leaving him with a parting present of a swift kick before they re-enter the bar.

Laying on the sidewalk Bob takes his shoe off and fishes around for the cash he keeps down their and after he finds it, he sets off in search for a way to even up the odds.


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PostPosted: Thu Apr 13, 2006 11:04 am 
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Bob walks back towards “The Boardwalk” bar, feeling the reassuring weight of the brass knuckles in his pocket. He arrives at the door, takes a deep breath and enters the bar still smelling musty, Bob walks over to the bar and notices his face in the mirror at the back of the bar, his face is already swelling from the fight earlier and the thought of the fight earlier just pisses him off. ”How could I have been so stupid to let myself get mugged like that?” he thinks to himself, stood leaning on the bar he manages to look over his shoulder at the pool table and sees the three men there, not sure whether to wait for his chance or goes straight in, Bob just leans there waiting for fate to decide to him. After a few minutes of trying to make a decision, the broken nosed “Motorhead” wearing shirt guys heads off to the bathroom, with two round the pool table and one in the bathroom Bob decides its time to do it. He slips his hand into his pocket

As he walks over he realises that the men haven’t noticed him yet and even more luckily they are facing away, so with a smirk on his face Bob taps skinhead rocker on the shoulder and says in his best posh accent ”Excuse me sir?”, as the skinhead turns round to see what’s happening Bob head butts the guy sending him crashing in the side of the table. The long haired AC/DC guy snaps out of his surprise, just in time to have the full force of Bob’s brass knuckles hit him under the chin, knocking him out cold. Bob sighs, kicks both of the men for good measure and satisfied he made little to no noise, heads into the bathroom for the next guy.

As he enters the bathroom, a bouquet of foul smells enter his nostrils and he almost gags on the heavy taste of shit in the air. Quickly realising that the last guy he has to deal with is in one of the stalls, he never thought it would be this easy. Standing in front of the only occupied stall, he leans back and then with all his might kicks at the stall door, shattering the lock and forcing the door to swing inwards to the surprise of the “Motorhead” guy sat on the toilet stinking the place up with shit. ”Oh yeah its me again” says Bob, just as he grabs him by the back of the head and brings his knee to meet the guy’s already broken nose, but still a sickening crunch is heard and he passes out. So with the three men all incapacitated, Bob goes through each of their pockets and takes what he can of value. Just before he leaves the bar, Bob places $50 on the bar and says ”Sorry about that, but they took a liberty with me. Here’s fifty bucks for the trouble”, Bob then leaves the bar thinking about what the hell is gonna happen next.

Request:
- Any money/items from the pockets of the three men.
- Any criticisms/advice

OOC: Sorry for the time delay between the two parts, been busy trying to sort out a car since mine got stolen.


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PostPosted: Thu Apr 13, 2006 11:21 am 
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Me!

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Professional RPing eh? Try pretentious, boring, and snobbish.
When a staffer says your piece looks great- don't believe them. They're pulling your leg, trying to get you to stay here. The real critics are long gone and stabbed.


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PostPosted: Thu Apr 13, 2006 2:12 pm 
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When I came over to check on this piece, I thought this was going to be one of those shitty, rushed posts just so money could be gathered- but it was a surprise for when I started reading. Is it mean for me to laugh at Bob? Of all the pieces I've read, this is probably the funniest, most realistic thing I've ever read. I really love that thing you did with your character- making him appear so pathetic until a sudden burst of something pops over his head. From his "WTF" arrival in Las Vegas, the pun-ny descriptions about his fate in gambling and down to his getting beat up- all of these were just nicely described. Short and sweet without compromising the introduction of your character.

Where the hell did you get this character idea? I mean, he does sound a lot like some metal rockhead would actually beat up.
Poor guy.
Now, I'm going to give you back the three hundred dollars you've been mugged, then I'm going to take fifty off you, but since you've made Motorhead boy swim in poop, I'll be giving you an additonal four hundred dollars. How does that sound? If you'd like to talk about it, hit me up. Enjoy the money.

I hope you don't break away from how you write. You've skipped some apostrophes- so I think you only had to proofread this thingy for it to have been free of errors. I'm still laughing after re-reading your thingy. It's great to have you on board Bob.

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Professional RPing eh? Try pretentious, boring, and snobbish.
When a staffer says your piece looks great- don't believe them. They're pulling your leg, trying to get you to stay here. The real critics are long gone and stabbed.


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