Post by Roy Vezina on Sept 29, 2024 16:26:21 GMT
The camera opens in a cramped, dingy janitor’s closet, barely lit by a flickering neon light from outside. The fog machine is doing its best to fill the room with fake smoke, giving the whole thing a cheap horror movie vibe. The Punch Line—Roy Vezina, Harv Norris, and Rick Hull—are crammed together, clearly trying to hold back their laughter as they begin their ridiculous act. The mood is mockingly eerie as Roy, wearing a torn black robe and a half-mask that’s supposed to mimic Kalidah’s, steps forward with a flourish.
Roy Vezina (as “Canidah”): (throwing his arms wide, surrounded by the terrible fake smoke, speaking in a mock, eerie tone) “Welcome to Motel Montreal! Where nightmares come true, eh? But not just any nightmares—no! The Canadian kind. Maple syrup… that never pours! Hockey sticks… that break on the first slap shot! And… NO POUTINE!”
Harv Norris, in a ridiculous, messy blonde wig that looks nothing like Lotte’s usual style, wobbles forward, holding a mop like it’s some kind of magic staff. His attempt at a spooky voice is ruined by his thick Newfoundland accent, making his performance all the more absurd.
Harv Norris (as “Lotte”): (in a wobbly, exaggerated voice) “Ohhhh, Canidah! What are we gonna do, b’y? Roy Vezina’s gonna come after ya, and he’s gonna wipe ya right off da map! We can’t stop ‘em!”
Rick Hull stands off to the side, barely containing his laughter as he points a flashlight directly at the camera, pretending it’s some kind of magical artifact. He’s grinning like a kid trying to hold it together during a school play.
Rick Hull: (trying to sound serious but cracking up) “Oh no, not Roy Vezina! What are we gonna do? He’s comin’ for the Motel Montreal! Someone tell the Beast of Hotel California… oh, wait… I mean… Motel Montreal that Roy’s coming to take that PMLL title!”
Roy, fully committed to the over-the-top parody, spins dramatically in place, arms flailing as he laughs maniacally like a cartoon villain.
Roy Vezina (as “Canidah”): (mock trembling) “Oh no! Please, Roy Vezina, spare me! I can’t handle your devastating power… or your deadly puck skills!”
All three of them break into uncontrollable laughter for a moment, clearly enjoying how ridiculous this all is. Harv almost drops the mop, and Rick stumbles back into some stacked cleaning supplies, knocking a few bottles over. Roy quickly regains his composure, tossing the mask and robe aside, wiping a tear from his eye as he steps forward to address the camera.
Roy Vezina: (smirking, still catching his breath from laughing) “Alright, alright. We’ve had our fun, but let’s get serious. Kalidah—yeah, that’s right, Eli—we’re done with the mind games. All this nightmare nonsense? It’s not gonna save you. At Golden Road, you’re walking into the ring with me. And I’m walking out with that PMLL Heavyweight Championship.”
Harv, still trying to recover from laughing too hard, drops the wig onto the floor and leans forward, wiping at his face with the mop in a failed attempt to look serious.
Harv Norris: (barely intelligible, still speaking through his thick accent) “Aye, b’y, you’ve got all da masks and spooky crap, but we’re not scared of ya. At da end of da day, yer just another guy in a mask, eh? An’ Roy’s gonna show ya what da Punch Line’s all about!”
Rick, clearly amused by the whole thing, points the flashlight directly at the camera, making strange shadows dance across the walls of the tiny janitor’s closet.
Rick Hull: “Yeah, Eli, you can bring your Ambush, your weird Motel Montreal vibes, all of it. But we’ve got the tag titles, and now Roy’s about to bring home the big one. Your time’s up, man.”
Roy, now fully back in his element, steps right up to the camera, his tone shifting to serious confidence, but with a glint of arrogance.
Roy Vezina: “Kalidah, you want to scare people. You want them to see you as this monster lurking in the shadows. But I see you for what you really are—a guy hiding behind a mask, desperate to hold on to that title. At Golden Road, that ends. The Punch Line is taking over, and there’s nothing you or your Ambush can do about it.”
Harv, wiping fake sweat off his brow, cracks a grin and nods eagerly.
Harv Norris: “Aye, b’y, you can try all da spooky stuff you want, but we’re walkin’ outta Golden Road wit’ da gold, and yer gonna be left wonderin’ where it all went wrong, eh?”
Rick and Roy share a quick fist bump before Roy gives the camera one last intense look, pointing directly into the lens.
Roy Vezina: “Kalidah, Motel Montreal, Ambush—none of it matters. At Golden Road, your nightmare comes to an end. And me? I’m your reality check. You can hide behind the mist and the masks, but when that bell rings, it’s all gonna come crashing down. I’ll see you soon… and don’t worry, I’ll be sure to send you back to Motel Montreal when it’s all over.”
With that, the Punch Line can’t help but break into laughter again as they awkwardly shuffle out of the cramped janitor’s closet, knocking over a broom and a bucket in the process. As they disappear into the distance, the fake fog continues to spill out, leaving the ridiculous scene behind as the camera lingers for just a moment longer before fading to black.
Roy Vezina (as “Canidah”): (throwing his arms wide, surrounded by the terrible fake smoke, speaking in a mock, eerie tone) “Welcome to Motel Montreal! Where nightmares come true, eh? But not just any nightmares—no! The Canadian kind. Maple syrup… that never pours! Hockey sticks… that break on the first slap shot! And… NO POUTINE!”
Harv Norris, in a ridiculous, messy blonde wig that looks nothing like Lotte’s usual style, wobbles forward, holding a mop like it’s some kind of magic staff. His attempt at a spooky voice is ruined by his thick Newfoundland accent, making his performance all the more absurd.
Harv Norris (as “Lotte”): (in a wobbly, exaggerated voice) “Ohhhh, Canidah! What are we gonna do, b’y? Roy Vezina’s gonna come after ya, and he’s gonna wipe ya right off da map! We can’t stop ‘em!”
Rick Hull stands off to the side, barely containing his laughter as he points a flashlight directly at the camera, pretending it’s some kind of magical artifact. He’s grinning like a kid trying to hold it together during a school play.
Rick Hull: (trying to sound serious but cracking up) “Oh no, not Roy Vezina! What are we gonna do? He’s comin’ for the Motel Montreal! Someone tell the Beast of Hotel California… oh, wait… I mean… Motel Montreal that Roy’s coming to take that PMLL title!”
Roy, fully committed to the over-the-top parody, spins dramatically in place, arms flailing as he laughs maniacally like a cartoon villain.
Roy Vezina (as “Canidah”): (mock trembling) “Oh no! Please, Roy Vezina, spare me! I can’t handle your devastating power… or your deadly puck skills!”
All three of them break into uncontrollable laughter for a moment, clearly enjoying how ridiculous this all is. Harv almost drops the mop, and Rick stumbles back into some stacked cleaning supplies, knocking a few bottles over. Roy quickly regains his composure, tossing the mask and robe aside, wiping a tear from his eye as he steps forward to address the camera.
Roy Vezina: (smirking, still catching his breath from laughing) “Alright, alright. We’ve had our fun, but let’s get serious. Kalidah—yeah, that’s right, Eli—we’re done with the mind games. All this nightmare nonsense? It’s not gonna save you. At Golden Road, you’re walking into the ring with me. And I’m walking out with that PMLL Heavyweight Championship.”
Harv, still trying to recover from laughing too hard, drops the wig onto the floor and leans forward, wiping at his face with the mop in a failed attempt to look serious.
Harv Norris: (barely intelligible, still speaking through his thick accent) “Aye, b’y, you’ve got all da masks and spooky crap, but we’re not scared of ya. At da end of da day, yer just another guy in a mask, eh? An’ Roy’s gonna show ya what da Punch Line’s all about!”
Rick, clearly amused by the whole thing, points the flashlight directly at the camera, making strange shadows dance across the walls of the tiny janitor’s closet.
Rick Hull: “Yeah, Eli, you can bring your Ambush, your weird Motel Montreal vibes, all of it. But we’ve got the tag titles, and now Roy’s about to bring home the big one. Your time’s up, man.”
Roy, now fully back in his element, steps right up to the camera, his tone shifting to serious confidence, but with a glint of arrogance.
Roy Vezina: “Kalidah, you want to scare people. You want them to see you as this monster lurking in the shadows. But I see you for what you really are—a guy hiding behind a mask, desperate to hold on to that title. At Golden Road, that ends. The Punch Line is taking over, and there’s nothing you or your Ambush can do about it.”
Harv, wiping fake sweat off his brow, cracks a grin and nods eagerly.
Harv Norris: “Aye, b’y, you can try all da spooky stuff you want, but we’re walkin’ outta Golden Road wit’ da gold, and yer gonna be left wonderin’ where it all went wrong, eh?”
Rick and Roy share a quick fist bump before Roy gives the camera one last intense look, pointing directly into the lens.
Roy Vezina: “Kalidah, Motel Montreal, Ambush—none of it matters. At Golden Road, your nightmare comes to an end. And me? I’m your reality check. You can hide behind the mist and the masks, but when that bell rings, it’s all gonna come crashing down. I’ll see you soon… and don’t worry, I’ll be sure to send you back to Motel Montreal when it’s all over.”
With that, the Punch Line can’t help but break into laughter again as they awkwardly shuffle out of the cramped janitor’s closet, knocking over a broom and a bucket in the process. As they disappear into the distance, the fake fog continues to spill out, leaving the ridiculous scene behind as the camera lingers for just a moment longer before fading to black.