Owner's Cup 2009 - Round 1

A large Asian man stands in the Dehli Airport holding up a sign. He wears an old fashioned tuxedo and a facemask. He bravely stands in the pressing tide of humanity facing the gate arriving from the Untied States. Over the near deafening sound of human voices, a commotion is heard that catches his attention. His ever alert eyes shoots down the runway and sees two large black men making their way down the gangway. A group of children surround them. The shorter of the two black men is speaking in a loud voice.
SoL: That’s right! EVERYWHERE I GO THE NEW BREED GETS RECOGNIZED! Ain’t that right Snookie!
Snookie: That’s right Boss!
SoL: JESUS CHRIST WHAT IS THAT SMELL?!?! Holy fuck! Is that you Snookie?
Snookie: Not me Boss!
SoL: THE NEW BREED DESERVES TO BE BETTER TREATED THIS AND…, IS THAT A MOTHERFUCKING COW TAKING A SHIT IN THE LOBY? WHAT THE FUCK?!?!
Snookie: Hey, look, I know that guy!
Snookie points to Mr. Wang. Since Snookie easy towers over the crowd, his view is unobstructed.
SoL: Thank fucking God! I knew Wevv wouldn’t let me down! Leave a brother hanging in a shithole country like this! Man knows how to show respect!
Sol grabs Snookie's arm and pulls him towards Mr. Wang. Kenzo sees them coming and lowers his sign. After waiting for a herd of goats to cross between them, Sol steps forward and yells over the din in airport.
SoL: DON'T JUST STAND THERE QUASIMODO, LEAD ON TO THE LIMO! CHOP! CHOP!
Mr. Wang’s eyes glitter, but he bows and leads Snookie and Sol out of the airport.
Outside:
A heavily armored limo is parked curbside just outside the baggage area. A steady stream of traffic passes it by, from men on bicycles, motorcycles, horse drawn carriages to modern vehicles.
Inside, Wevv is fearfully looking out the thick windows, while Madison tries to comfort him.
Wevv: You don't see them do you? AH! WHAT WAS THAT?
Madison: Calm down Wevv! We have our people tracking them, and they’re nowhere near here!
Wevv: You can't track them! They just show up! And…take you! Like Burt!
Madison: We won't let that happen! Oh look! Kenzo found Snookie and SoL!
Wevv quickly composes himself, and settles down in his seat. They both put masks on their faces, as the car door opens, and Mr. Wang, Snookie and SoL pile into the car. Once the doors are closed, hidden air pumps quickly start to filter the air. 
SoL: What up Wevv! LOOSER! HA! No worries, man, you got a winner with ya now! Now come on, and let’s take this car to the Penthouse and PARTY!
Snookie grins a big stupid, vacant smile, at Wevv. Wevv just stares back at SoL and Snookie. The silence almost starts to get awkward until:
Snookie: I sang a song about you. It was funny!
Wevv: yes. I heard…about that.
Wevv looks at SoL.
Wevv: You’ll do anything to suck up won’t you? What did you do to him?
Sol: There was an incident on the plane. Some birds –
Snookie: I DON’T LIKE BIRDS! THEY SCARY BOSS! THE FLAPPING WINGS, BOSS! SAVE ME FROM DA BIRDS!
SoL: Easy Snookie! Calm down man! No birds here!
Wevv: Fucking lovely. Samuels outsources the fucking Owner’s Cup to this Pisshole continent, and I get teamed with the Giant Drugged Up Retard over there. Just fucking great. He better be ready by match time. Well, I knew I’d have to carry his ass anyway, so thanks for making my job so much harder SoL. You’re a real pal. Lucky for me, this is the Owner’s Cup. I can always count on things being shaken up, and I can count on some future Villiano twist to be free of you. We’ll win this round, and then you can go on sucking up to the boys, and hoping they still think of you as a legend and not a washed up douchebag.
SoL: HEY! I’m the Mother-fucking NEW BREED! I-
Wevv: Couldn’t afford first class tickets so flew by coach? Are going to be part of  Illuminati 2  “Electric Boogaloo”? Get out of my car.
Mr. Wang helps Sol and Snookie leave the car. Once the doors are closed Wevv sighs and takes off his facemask. Outside, Sol and Snookie keep talking, and SoL is kicking Wevv’s Limo.
Madison: Now what?
Wevv: I suppose I’ll put up with the shit as much as I can. And then, when it gets to be too much, I’ll do what I always do. Point out the weaknesses, martyr myself in the first match before the fall, and then I’ll take over the company, give myself a title shot. And probably loose that as well. Sigh. Oh well. One thing is for sure. When I leave, it will be memorable.
Madison: As in, needing the next generation of family to pay off the damages?
Wevv: Could be. You know, the boys over in Siberia have been working on these black hole generators..
Driver: SIR! We have an alert!
Wevv: WHAT?!?! JESUS CHRIST LET’S GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!!!
Meanwhile: 
Outside:
SoL: You know, there are  27 chapters to that song dickweed! You think I went easy on you in the first one, well, I wasn’t even trying! Just wait until chapter 16 with the midgets and the cottage cheese!! R. Kelley is fucking genius! Hey! You listening? That’s right! Drive away from the New Breed! Can’t take it! That’s right! You see that, hey, what are you giggling at?
Snookie: Monkeys!
Sol looks across the street, and sees it filling up with monkeys. Some nearby people start to vanish inside buildings.
SoL: What the –
Voice: Easy son. They can spook real easy, so just move slow. Take your big friend here and get inside, where you’ll be safe. They don’t take kindly to being laughed at.
SoL: HEY! YOU’RE BURT REYNOLDS!
Burt: Oh dammit.
A sharp hooting is heard from the side, and a monkey with a director’s megaphone throws it down and starts jumping on it. He then goes, yes, apeshit. The street then starts filling up with monkeys. They pour over rooftops and from around corners. They all start to go nuts.
Burt: You’ve done it now son. You’ve ruined Cecil B. DeChimpington’s shot.  He’s gonna be awfully pissed about that.
SoL: Who?
Burt: Cecil B. DeChimpington. He’s the director. You see the group with the movie cameras over by that taxi? Don't look directly at them! Cecil likes to film guerilla style.  Well, Cecil is the leader of this army of monkeys, and he’s making a movie about life in the streets from a monkey’s perspective.
Burt: See, I came over here to do a Bollywood remake of Smokey and the Bandit. Our shoot was overrun by these monkeys. . I’ve worked for some complicated directors before, but let me tell you, that chimp, right over there, you knows what, he’s a genius. I’ve seen some of his work, and it’s fantastic. March Of The Penguins meets Slumdog Million. It’s pure Brilliance.  When the world gets a look at Cecil’s “Monkey Paradise”, I’m going to finally get a damn Oscar. Lifetime achievement is fine, but sometimes you just want a goddamn Oscar.
SoL: So why are you telling me all this? You think the New Breed has nothing better to do than stand around listening to your old ass –
Burt: I’m telling you this so when you get back to civilization, you tell them Burt’s doing OK and to leave me alone. Burt’s finally going to get his Oscar. Now, close your eyes and, more importantly, close your mouth.
 SoL: What the – GAHHH!!
SoL is suddenly pelted head to toe with monkey shit.
Burt Reynolds: Don’t say I didn't tell ya! Let’s go Cecil! Ready! ACTION!
Burt Reynolds hops in a car and drives off, and an army of monkey’s follows him, carrying camera equipment.
SoL wipes his eyes clean. He sputters out, and then fights back retching. Snookie laughs at him between bitefuls of some green substance.
Sol: The hell are you laughing at? Wait, what are you eating?
A man in a turbin and loincloth hands SoL a small plastic container.
Man: Fruit on the bottom curry!!
SoL: Snookie! NO!
Too late, Snookie takes a bite. Suddenly a flock of parrots erupts from behind some crates. Snookie screams like a little girl and runs off, with SoL in hot pursuit.
Later:
In a secure Facility somewhere on the West side of Delhi.
A man walks along a catwalk over a pit of cubicles. Sounds of conversations drift up to him.
“Thank you for calling Dell Technical Support. My name is James. How may I help you?”
“Please make sure your electronic device is turned off before attempting…”
“HEM stands for Human Eradication Mode. You press menu, function, back, enter, back and then menu again. No sir, your TV will return shortly when it runs out of ammo.” - http://www.southparkstudios.com/clips/153342/?tag=Human+Eradication+Mode
Wevv stops and stares down at the pit of Americanized humanity. An Indian man in a suit joins him.
Indian Man: Our preparations are complete, sir. They’re waiting for you in the conference room.
Wevv: Thank you Ameet.
From down below:
“YOU SHUT UP! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT”S LIKE! I SIT IN THIS BOX ALL DAY! AAARRRGGGHH!!” - http://www.illwillpress.com/tech42.html
Wevv: What was that?
Ameet: Let me check sir.
Ameet: Ah. It’s just some crazy squirrel who calls in from time to time. Third operator this month.
Wevv: Excellent. Let us go and meet them.
Wevv marches along the catwalk into a special glass elevator, which rises up and into a conference room. Wevv steps out and immediately begins talking.
Wevv: Greetings ladies and gentlemen! Our current situation is that we are making better than expected progress. The fortuitous location of India for this round of the Owner’s Cup has allowed me to personally oversee this phase of our operations, and I will say, that I am quite pleased.
Wevv: Since some many of the world has outsourced their computer assistance facilities, and also their data processing, this gives us an advantage in access two critical needs. One, we have access to their main database, the same one back in the US, and also we have access to their customer’s personal information. By gaining access to inside the facility, we bypass the need to circumvent cyber security.
Wevv: However, I regret to say, that the system is not foolproof, and we have indeed had such a breach. Regrettable, but with our sterling record of success, until this point of course, we more than mitigate this lapse of security.
Wevv: As far as our associate Mr. Ameet can ascertain, the villains implanted a virus that charges customers of all major credit card companies under our umbrella, a repeating weekly service charge. Since we will be unable to detect this attack until the clients notify us, say, next week sometime, there is little we can do to recover the money. Yes?
Man: Where is the money going?
Wevv: I’m glad you asked. It seems that the money is being sent to a company in the Balkan states, but that is merely a front, as soon as the money hits this companies accounts, it is rerouted to another companies holdings, and so on and so forth.
Man: And where does the money ultimately end up?
Wevv: In a special account we have set up with a special bank account in the Cayman’s where it is finally transferred to our accounts in Cuba.
Man: And who will be held responsible for this attack?
Wevv: Hard to tell. It’s too sophisticated for a terrorist organization, but anything is possible.
Man: I see. And the fate of our loyal friend Mr. Ameet?
Wevv: Well, I’m sure he will do everything possible to get to the bottom, but the breach will raise awareness of the number of outsourced jobs to this area of the world. It might lead to some being brought back to their native countries.
Man: And that could take years. Contracts and all that. Very Well. Proceed Mr. Mang. We approve.
Wevv: Thank you sir.
Man: And good luck to you as Well in the Owner’s Cup.
And with that, the holographic images fade out, and a grinning Wevv Mang, walks to the table and takes a seat. He puts his feet up on the long desk and lights a cigar.
Wevv: I love it when a plan comes together.