General Chat / Van Chelsea: An NE Movie

The photoshop pictures are a nice touch, I never would have thought of that. Not like I have any photoshopping skills anyway. I'm doing my part to get to Part II.

LMAO @ rctfan.

"Please care."

PART II
The setting: a large piazza in Houston, Texas. In the early morning light, a lone, trenchcoat-wearing figure walks toward a large cathedral on the north end. Entering, he strides down the apse, the loud click of his boots slicing through the holy silence. Van Chelsea moves into a confession box, where he sits down with a pained look of mental anguish.

Van Chelsea: “Forgive me, Fatha, for I have sinned.”

A shadow on the other side of the screen merely nods.

Van Chelsea: “I have caused the death of another, one who I was ordered to capture alive, but who instead ended up flattened on the ground 400 feet below, crushed by the impact of a plummet caused by my incredible karate kick… which I learned from Master Holland, of course… but which nonetheless ended the life of one who will be viewed as innocent. I am wanted in seven different states. People scorn my name. Why can you not use your power to reveal the truth? Why can’t you liberate me?”

The priest on the other side suddenly slams open the screen, revealing himself.



Fatha: “Because we do not exist! This question you ask, why do you insist? Have you seen me recently here? Have you seen me post anywhere near? I have not been sighted for many months now. You might be wondering why I disappear, and how. I tell you in secret, for on projects I do work. I pray you believe me, though I may act like a jerk. But we MUST not be known, not now or ever more. And go Rockets, Spurs, and Mavericks, whichever team wins more!!!”

Van Chelsea: “Um… okay… you know it’s the same exact thing with you every time we do this. Can’t you ever come up with something original?”

Fatha: “Shuttup, foo! I do have something new for you. A new mission to take, and of interest you may make. For this mission contains clues, to your past and the mystery of you. You must go into the east, to battle one ferocious beast. He is known by the name of Slob. His assistant is PenguinBOB. He is a feared vampire of lore. He’s got hot vampiresses galore. With him lies the answer to your past. He will answer every question you will ask. So take this mission without a sigh. I think it’ll interest you a lot, okay, Guy?”

Van Chelsea: “My past, huh? I will do this, but only because I have no memory of my past—only a feeling that I was a completely different person.”

Fatha: “In that case, go down to the lab. You will find useful weapons and tools to nab. I dismiss you now and wish you good luck. Oh, and one last thing: the Lakers SUCK!”

Van Chelsea: “WTF?”

Van Chelsea exits the box. After winding through a few corridors, he enters a vast chamber, bustling with scientific activity, as scholars from all around the globe embark on their various experiments. He is greeted by a pious-looking monk whose humble appearance is disrupted only by his beanie and throwback basketball jersey.



Kumba: “Whaddup VC?!”

VC: “You called?”

Kumba: “I meant my homrboy Van Chelsea, fool. Now get back to yor own hood, G.”

VC: “Okay.”

Kumba: “Anyway, whaddup my man? How’s life been treetin ya?”

Van Chelsea and Kumba grasp hands and do their special handshake, slapping each other multiple times, bumping fists and chests, spinning around, hopping on one foot, head butting, and performing various finger wiggles. Five minutes later, Kumba continues.

Kumba: “Now, the Fatha sez that you gonna take on anotha mision. This one’s wid a maja playa. Check this out, my othr man A. Diddy gonna give you the lowdowm. You know, the 4-1-1. The info. The what’s happpenin, fo shizzle my nizzle?”

Van Chelsea: “Yeah… gotcha…” *cough* “Poser.”

In steps a young Mexican, clean shaven and wearing a robe. His appearance is smooth and sophisticated except for his blank, dark, bloodshot eyes and ridiculous grin on his face.

A. Diddy: “Dude…. All right now… like, okay.”

He stumbles just a moment and then rights himself.

A. Diddy: “Okay, like… yeah. Okay. Deep breaths. All right… dude… like… here’s… like, yeah. Like, okay, here’s…. Whoa, man, I’m so messed up right now.”

Kumba and Van Chelsea wait another minute for Diddy to gather himself.

A. Diddy: “Okay, I’m cool. Whew. Like, okay. This… is like your mission… dude… okay? Like… here’s a picture of like… this chick.”

He hands Van Chelsea a photograph.



Van Chelsea: “WHOA! She is… TOTALLY FLAMINGLY HOT!”

A. Diddy: “Yeah, definitely. Anyway, you—“

Van Chelsea: “I’m speechless. She’s gotta be like the hottest girl on the plan—” *looks down* “Oh crap. Go on.”

A. Diddy: “Anyway, you gotta like… go and like… ya know… like rescue the chick. Like, well, like not actually rescue her ya know… like, more like protect her. Yeah, cuz like she’s under attack ya know? Her name is like, I think like Jess Alexia, and she’s like the last remaining descendant in her family. Like yeah. And the vamps totally want to kill her and all… you gotta like, prevent them from attacking her. You know, even the score and all…”

Van Chelsea: “You want me to SCORE with her?”

A. Diddy: “Dude, chill man, I said even the score. Like, tip the scales. Cuz like… yeah… like she’s got lots of enemies, and like, they’re ganging up on her…”

Van Chelsea: “Gang her?”

A. Diddy: “And you gotta like… spread them out so you can defeat them one by one or something…”

Van Chelsea: “Spread her le—“

A. Diddy: “Dude, you’re like… not even listening to me man. I mean, what am I, like, totally unininitelligibible? Just follow me cuz I got more info…”

Van Chelsea follows, hands folded in front of him, then positions himself conveniently behind a waist-high table.

A. Diddy: “Anyway, she’s also got like this brother, Rage Alexia, or something. I think you gotta make sure he doesn’t die too.

Van Chelsea: “Yeah, yeah, whatever, kill the brother. What about Jess?”

A. Diddy: “Dude…. You’re like more tripped out than I am right now… just chill man. Just make sure she doesn’t die, cuz like, the evil Slob wants to like, eat her or something.”

Van Chelsea: “I’d like to eat her if you know what I—”

A. Diddy: “Anyway, I’m out, dude. Kumba here will, like, let you know what you like need and stuff like that. Yeah….”

A. Diddy stumbles back into a wall, then opens the door to a smoke filled room before spinning into the chamber and pulling the door back with him.

Van Chelsea: “He always like that?”

Kumba: “Fo sho! That’s my homey boy dawg!! WOOT WOOT!!! Anywya, I gots here some nice stuff. Qality materail, yo? They’s be helping ya with your vanpire problemos, you square?”

Van Chelsea: “Okay.”

Kumba: “Now come over here, I show yu my bling.”

Van Chelsea: “Actually… um… why don’t you bring the stuff over here? I’m rather comfortable. Here. In this spot. Yeah, that’s it.”

Kumba looks at him and smirks.

Kumba; “Aight, I hear man. All rite be right back. You GOTS to check this out.”

Kumba disappears for a bit while Van Chelsea nervously mumbles to himself.

Van Chelsea: “All right… um, baseball, history, Shakespeare, roller coasters, thrill rides, yeah, theme parks, Paramount’s King’s Dominion, um, yeah, Hypersonic XLC. That’s a thrust air coaster! That’s a really sweet—NO! Not thrust! No thrusting! Shit… um… school. Um, algebra. Variables… quadratic formula… trigonometry… Abraham Lincoln….”

Meanwhile, Kumba returns lugging a huge suitcase apparently full of interesting gadgets and machinations.

Kumba: “All right, listin up peeps, dis first wepon iz da SHIZ, dawg. You can puts it anywere cuz its hidable and it shoots the thang at supa high speeds yo! You can aimz anywheres and its been HACKED to allow EZ storeage, foo! Diss da bomb diggity! Is the most thrillin thang around!”

Van Chelsea: “Um… it’s a slingshot.”

Kumba: “But it’s HACKED yo!”

Van Chelsea: “No it’s not. You just painted it silver and put a red string around it.

Kumba: “CrazEE, yo?”

Van Chelsea: …..

Kumba: “Aight aight aight, this next thing will gets ya REALLY exited!”

Excite: “Excite? That’s ME! Hey! What’s up everybody! Come to my new lab, where people are making new weapons and stuff from all around the world too! It’s in a chamber, kind of like this one, and I have the best weapons, and all the bounty hunters are coming!”

Kumba: “What the dillio? Who the heck are you, foo?”

Excite: “Who the heck are YOU, foo?”

Kumba: “I asked you first, biotch!”

Excite: “I asked YOU first, biotch!”

Kumba: “Aw, don’t tel me you be saying liek that!”

Excite: “Aw, don’t tell me you be saying like that!”

Kumba: “I’m gonna beet yo ASS, ya little snotfaced punk shit!”

Excite: “I’m gonna beat YOUR—oh shit!”

Kumba charges after Excite, who promptly jets like OJ in a Ford Bronco. Kumba chases the little kid around the lab for about a minute before tackling him and proceeding to beat the pus right off of his face using his $5 copper knuckles from Wal-Mart.

Kumba: “This!” *punch* “Will!” *punch* “Teach!” *punch* “You!” *punch* “To!” *punch* “Copy!” *punch* “Other!” *punch* “People!” *punch* “BITCH!!” *thwack* “Now can you dig that, SUCKAAAAAAAAAA!!!!”

Leaving Excite a bloody mess, Kumba returns to Van Chelsea, who by now has wandered over to watch the assault, keeping his hat over his lap.

Kumba: “No where was I? Oh yeah, da new bomb weppon! Check dis out—”

Van Chelsea: “You know what, just pack it all up. I trust your abilities.”

Kumba: “Aight. Cool.”

Van Chelsea: “But another thing… you’re coming with me.”

Kumba: “WHAT?!?!?!”

Van Chelsea: “I need your expertise.”

Kumba: “I’m sorry, that word’s too advansed fo me.”

Van Chelsea: “I need you to back me up. DAWG.”

Kumba: “Oh, aight. Cool, cool. I got cho back, homey. I take ANYBODY out. Mavericks, Outlaws, flowers, I take them ALL down.”

Van Chelsea: “Riiiiight…”

Kumba: “But I gotta tell you, VC. That Jess? She’s hot and all… but she’s only 17.”

Van Chelsea stops dead in his tracks.

Van Chelsea: “Are you serious?”

Kumba: “Yup.”

Van Chelsea raises his hat and puts it back on his head.

Van Chelsea: “Well, that fixes that. Lets go.”

Van Chelsea picks up his bags and leaves. Kumba follows, and the two begin their journey. Fade to black.

"And go Rockets, Spurs, and Mavericks, whichever team wins more!!!”

This part made me burst out laughing, resulting in an unfortunate drizzle of spit on my monitor.

lmao at the Fatha'! And the expertise bit

Man, that one was hillarious. The Kumba being a wigger never gets old, and Fatha was just great.

I work at SFMM?  Awesome!  If this was Fluxd, I would hunt down G-Rocks and murder him and cook steaks marinaded in his racist bigoted conservative christian rich-kid trust-fund SoCal blood.

PS-

its funny because you think you know politics.

nice job, corky.

Thank god you're here to decode Moonspoon's elaborate humor.

Thank god you're here to decode Moonspoon's elaborate humor.

Maybe you didn't read my full post, jackass.

That was hilarious.

The $5 copper knuckles from Wal-Mart part made me laugh out loud.


I can't wait for the next part.

Yes! I've appeared... (assuming I'm Jess Alexia)

One problem though... I'm 17, not 14. But ah well, life goes on!

Look who's in the movie,
F.S.

Yes! I've appeared... (assuming I'm Jess Alexia)

One problem though... I'm 17, not 14.  But ah well, life goes on!

Look who's in the movie,
F.S.

Whoops... I thought you said you were 14 before. Sorry, I'll change that.

nextpartnextpartnextpartnextpartnextpart

I said main character, asshole.

And yeah, next part.

You are the main character. The main bad character.

am I in the movie :'(

Later. Be patient young sir.

am I in the movie

Stop being a MachChunk.

Omg lol. I can't wait for my part.

I believe that I may be Van Chelsea since I said that I wanted to be a 'good guy who's been left out of the loop'. Except that I also said that I wanted my own name.

Anyway this isn't as funny as Outlaw's first movie, but it is far better at holding my interest. His just seemed so random and sloppy in places where this is done really professional-like.

Oh and

Forgive me Fatha, for I have sinned.

ride6

Yes, I laughed uncontrollably (inside; I was at work) at ^ that quote. I love it.