Wave of Mutilation (Senor Pinchy Promo for DOMINION 19)

(The camera opens on a dark room with walls covered in plastic as the haunting howl of a concertina squawks the unmistakable opening notes of “I Hope You Suffer” by AFI.  Lightning flashes in the dusk painted window and suddenly Senor Pinchy appears in the center of the room with a table in front of him.  He glowers over a covered dish positioned directly under his nose as his claws sit at either side of the plate clasping a knife and a fork.  The surly voice of a seafaring shanty singer cuts through the silence as the beat of a bodhran joins in on the shanty.)



“I got two garras for ye
The last visions as ye scuttle away”


Senor Pinchy: I have a’suffered enough losses porque bottom feeding parejas.

“Ye lubber smitten with au jus.
So horrible aye dare not speak ye name”


Senor Pinchy: Axel Talapianotch es de new culprit in a long, long, stretch a’ crimes contra mi win record.  Clearly I am not problema, si? I am dos times pareja campeonato, si?  That leaves only one freaky weirdo mang to blame for mi problema, si?

“Aye! Face off the starboard, ahoy!
Well blow me down and walk the plank!”

Senor Pinchy: I mean what kind of stupida comes on a’telivision dressed like extraterrestre?  Dat’s silly as mierda, mang!

“I gave my heart to the sea
Thine booty shalt not beat again.”


Senor Pinchy: As por Daniel Horrorfish?


(Pinchy lifts the cover off of his dinner plate, revealing a steak and a lobster tail.  He jabs his knife into the steak and his fork into the lobster and brandishes the ribeye up toward camera lens threateningly.)

Senor Pinchy: I know we no have a’beef, si? But if j’ou step on a’my turf during mi high tide?


(Pinchy takes a big bite out of the steak and tosses it over his shoulder, before lifting the lobster tail high up in the air.)

Senor Pinchy: I…

a’hope...


j’ou...

...surfer!

(A lute joins in on the merriment with a hard thrashing interlude as the concertina hemming and hawing.  Pinchy rips the lobster meat from it’s shell over his head and slowly lowers it into his waiting mandibles.  He slurps it back gruesomely, before letting out a big burp and flipping the table in slow motion.)


“I hope yoo hoo
I hope ye a surfer!
I hope yoo hooo
I hope ye a surfer!
I hope yoo hooo
Scurvy landlubber
I hope ye
Are a decent surfer! Arrgh!”

“CUT! CUT!”

(The studio bell rings as the lights come up on the sound stage.  The walls part in different directions as the director storms the set.  A worried group of world weary pirates carrying arcane instruments join Pinchy and the director with worried looks on their collective faces.)

Lead Singer: I gave it me all, cap’um!  I know Poopdeck Pat may've been goin' 'gainst the tide.  Yarr...

(The Lead Singer cuts his one good eye back at the concertina player, who holds his squeezebox up to cover his face in embarrassment.)

Director: No, no, you guys did great.  I don’t know why you had to be here to do it live, but you were great.  Why don’t you boys go ahead and take five and hit craft services while the star and I have a chat?


(The lead singer turns to his swarthy crew.  They all shrug. The lead singer turns back and tap the director on the shoulder before he can get into a full blown conversation with Pinchy.)

Lead Singer: Pardon me manners cap’um, but yer landlubber talk makes nigh sense to I or me first mates.

Director:...Huh?

Senor Pinchy: Perdoname senor director, I speak Pirate.


(Pinchy flutters his mandible and clears his throat, before dropping down in a rickety stance and holding out one of his pincers like a hook as he covers one eye with the other.)

Senor Pinchy: Aye! Ye swarthy amigos should pillage the galley, yarrrrrr!

(The lead singer nods and beckons for his merry men to follow as the clearly frustrated director puts a hand on Pinchy’s shoulder.)

Senor Pinchy: Es problema? Es no problema! A’take sesenta y cinco!


Director:  No, no...oh god no.  I don’t think we have any film left in the can.   It’s just...I’m trying to figure out what you mean by “I hope you surfer”.


Senor Pinchy: Ah, si, so many an aqua gringo a’like to hop on driftwood and glide into el oceano.  Also, a’lobster y steak es llamado ‘surf y turf’, si?

Director: I get that, and I even get the really really vague parallels between surf n’ turf and surfing, but I still don’t get what ‘I hope you surfer' means. The lyrics to the song we’ve written for you are ‘I hope you ARE a surfer.’

Senor Pinchy: Si, ‘I a’hope j’ou surfer’.  Es same, si?

Director: No.

Senor Pinchy: No?

Director: Well, not really.  But I get that English isn’t your first language.  I’m sure your fans will get it.

Senor Pinchy: a’fans?

Director: Si, si, like...ummm like amigos that you don’t know.

Senor Pinchy: I know what fans means, pendejo!  I a’have nada fans.

Director: Now I find that hard to believe.

Senor Pinchy: Si...ehh...wasn’t always this way.  Pinchy es macho guerrero.  A’by himself, he beat everyone.  Undefeated even.  No pinfall, submission, or a’count out on record.

Director: See? So you win a lot.  Fans should love that.

Senor Pinchy: No.

Director: No?

Senor Pinchy: No, porque Luchamundo a’keeps pairing me up with pendejos who lose.  Primera it was bruja Searia, then Alfish Gamer.  E now? I have been stuck with Axel Talapianotch, who es also a loser.  He such a loser, he cosplays to matches.  Es muy loco.

Director: Boy, I’ll say…

Senor Pinchy: A’last week, he cost me victoria.  Now I a’pinch him until he bleeds verde alien sangre.

Directory: What does all of this have to do with our production today? Don’t get me wrong, it’s been creepy and weird, but it doesn’t read ‘alien’.  

Senor Pinchy: Si, am doing Daniel Horrorfish promo ademas.  Daniel es man with bad haircut y attitude.  He ehhhh kinda like you Director man.


Director: I’ll have you know this haircut cost me 800 smackers.


Senor Pinchy: En pesos?

Director: NO!


Senor Pinchy: Ayeayeaye, I could’ve messed j’our hair up like dat por ehhh...4 sand dollars.


Director: Yeah? Well you’re not Jen Atkin so who cares?

Senor Pinchy: Who de shell es Fin Atkin?

Director: Listen, I really don’t care what we’re doing here today, so long as you’re happy with the final product.  Are you happy?

Senor Pinchy: No.

Director: No?

Senor Pinchy: No, am crabby.  Eh? Eh? Es muy divertido.

Director: Uh huh, whatever that means.

Senor Pinchy: Regardless…

Director: We cut like eleven of those out of the script.

Senor Pinchy: REGARDLESS! I t’ink j’ou did a good job, mang.

Director: Thanks.  If you’ve had your fill, then my boys and I will call it a day.

Senor Pinchy: Ehhh...un memento.

Director: Please don’t tell me you want another take?

Senor Pinchy:..uno mas?

Director: Fine, whatever.  RUN IT BACK!  Set design, put those walls back up.  Gophers, escort the pirates from catering.  Roll sound.  Lights, camera, action!


(The camera cuts to black as Pinchy begins to open his mouth to speak.)