Prankster’s Log 2018.04.30

2018.04.30
Lunch Time Punch

The initial feed of her live video stream is a little static-y at first. When it finally comes into view, it appears to be the inside of a subway bus careening down the tunnel. There are a few shady individuals seated at various locations throughout this particular car, though they all seem to be unaware that they were being recorded. The screen flips around and there sits the ever-vigilant face of none other than “The Prankster” Lara Bratton.

“Well, howdy-doo, ladies and gentleman!”

She gives a little cackle as she tries to hold the phone steady, but the train causes it to swing back and forth a little. She’s dressed as she was in her previous vignette: Ripped leather jacket, torn jeans, long sports socks tucked into her oversized steel-toed boots. The only thing different would be the Black Flag t-shirt she has on underneath her jacket. Her face is painted still, white with mascara tears streaking down her cheeks. Earbuds are firmly planted inside each of her ear and the cable traces back towards the device she holds in her hand.

She’s leaning back in her seat, feet kicked up over the chair in front of her. “Just taking a little train ride, unwinding a little and clearing my head. You know, everyday normal kinda stuff.”

The teared face along with her slightly crazy smile can be rather off-putting, “So as we talked about in our previous episode, Bōryoku kōi dai 1 is coming up and I have a match with this chick who is called Nova.”

Lara brings the phone a little closer so she can whisper, “She seems a little okay, but she certainly isn’t about personality now, isn’t she?” The phone is pulled back, “So, that being said, I’m afraid I’m gonna have to beat her up and take her lunch money and go spend it at Starbucks and get me a lovely unicorn frappacino. I heard it’s made out of real unicorns! Don’t no one tell PETA. They’re always out ruining our fun.”

She clears her throat, “That being said, as much as I might like little miss Nova, I’m afraid I like money more and that means I gotta whip her ass, get that big fat ‘W’ and then move on to that nice and juicy battle royale.” She leans in again, “That’s french for royal, for those who got lost,” she whispers, then pulls back. The train comes to a stop which causes her to lurch forward and the phone wavers around a bit. “Goddamn! Who’s driving this thing anyway? Dennis the Menace? Excuse me for a moment,” she says as she gets herself back into a comfortable position.

“Where was I? Oh yeah, battle royal. It’s an open invitational battle royal which means that all I have to do is walk my plucky self on down to that ring and climb on in and start beating folks up. And there’s one witchy woman in which I want to give a nice ass whooping. Ain’t that right, Judy-Judy.”

A frown suddenly crosses her face, “Speaking of little miss Jetson, hey powers-that-be, how come tattoo breath over there is gracing the cover of the damn poster for VeeBeeUno? Especially when you have someone as pretty as me on your roster! I woulda wore my good t-shirt. It only has one rip, and it’s a Sex Pistols one. But instead you got a tattooed, naked witch on the front and you even covered up the good parts with a damned title.”

She leans in close, “Between you and me, she seems like that kinda girl. You know /that/ kind. Yeah, that kind. That’s the kind. Right. But don’t tell her I said so, she seems a little sensitive.”

The train comes to another stop and she finally manages to get out of her seat, “Hold on a sec, fanboys.” The scene begins to move as Lara Bratton makes her way off the train and into the subway. She picks up the phone and positions it in front of her, “Now where was I? Oh yeah, you could have had men for the cover. But I supposed Judy-Jude needed some extra cash for a new cauldron, some eye of newt and a new broomstick.” She leans in, “I heard she gained a few pounds and had to upgrade to a thicker model.”

“Anyway! I’m coming to the open invitational and gonna win my match against Nova and then toss Judy right out of the ring and win me two matches in one night! Oh hey, check this guy out.”

Lara turns around and points her phone at some guy with a Gilligan hat and a ZZ-top beard, “Hey! Buddy! Mug a seaman or something? What’s up with the hat?”

The man furrows his brows when he realizes he’s being recorded and waves her off. “Leave me alone.”

“What? Don’t be shy, little buddy. Get it? Get it? Little buddy. I crack myself up sometimes. Hey mister! Why you gotta be like that? I’m just asking a nice innocent question. I mean, how long has it been since you got off that island?”

He finally has had enough and he walks away. “Well, what a spoil sport. Probably upset because he could never bone Ginger or Mary Anne. Hmph!” She flips the camera back around to her and begins to walk as she gets on an escalator.

“Violent Behavior the First, I’m coming not only to win my match against Champagne Supernova, but that battle royal as well. I’m bringing my lunchbox, but I can’t promise it’ll have any sandwiches in it. Sorry, Judy! You’ll just have to feed off the souls of children as you usually do after you lead them to your gingerbread house.”

She gets to the top of the escalator and then walks over to the turnstile and glances around. “Don’t try this at home, kiddos.” She hops over it instead of putting money into it and someone is heard yelling, “Hey you!”

“Whoopsies! I gotta go, true believers. But don’t you worry, you’ll see my pretty little face in your tiny devices soon enough. Get the lotion ready! But until then, I gotta run. Literally.”

She begins to run as someone is heard running after her, screaming “Stop that girl!” She is heard screaming back, “I’m a woman! I got boobs and everything!”

The feed cuts out.