The camera starts rolling, fixated on a sharp dressed man as he takes his seat and adjusts his tie. The white haired man with the bowler hat dabs the contents of what appears to be a Sweet 'n' Low pack of sugar into his coffee. He takes a sip; a satisfied smile dances across his lips. The Gentleman gazes at the camera with a coy, knowing look, accompanied by a very Cheshire-esque smirk.
"I'm often asked what makes a decent host. Being the second longest running host, behind only the honoured Ray, I believe I can provide a rough outline of an answer. Interns, pay attention."
Duels Young Samurai, sparks flying as steel clashes against steel - cane sword against katana -, but ever the champion fencer the Gentleman is quick to disarm his foe and smash a hard kick into the younger man's chest. Saiyan Assassin throws a fist, but the punch is caught inexplicably inside a gaping void... inside the Gentleman's bowler hat. Suddenly, a monstrous demonic black panther lunges from the darkness, clawing and biting at his face while he screams like a little girl.
MEET THE GENTLEMAN
(Imagine as the background song)
"First off," the Gentleman begins saying, "a host should always be respectful, and certainly kind. I've always been of mind that forging healthy, positive relationships with both co-workers and the audience is not only the best means to earn respect, but also a lifelong friendship that will accompany one's career to the end of their days."
Laughing manically, the Gentleman unleashes an army of the undead on Ray, Steel, Haku, Bella, Question, Kra and the Abe's; some of which bust through the ground, grab a panicked Steel, and drag him into in the abyss. The poor host screams "EMPLOYEE EVALUATION DAY SUUUUUUCKS!"
"Why, I've even taken Edge - one of our youngest - under my wing. I've been slowly but surely training him as my protégé."
Edge is pimp slapped so hard he's knocked through several walls, as the Gentleman bellows after him, "YOU CALL THAT WITTY REPARTEE?!
"A host should treat everyone with respect, especially the ladies. Call me old fashioned, I will gladly accept such a label without shame."
Haku attempts to slice him in twain, he quickly kicks her off her feet, grabs her in a romantic fashion as she falls, puts her down gently... and punches her in the face into unconsciousness.
"A flair for showmanship; a great radio persona; an ability to work off material with your partners in the Announcer's Booth; a voice that oozes and flows like a river of honey and chocolate, capturing the imagination of your audience..."
Gentleman and Joan are trading light and dark magic attacks at one another, in-between sword fighting. As she gains the advantage, forcing him into a corner, he suddenly drops the Cane as a show of defeat... and immediately gazes into her eyes.
For some reason, Joan flinches, as if locked into paralysis. He takes her hand, gentlemanly of course, kisses it, and begins speaking, using the ability "A Voice Made For Radio." The effect is symbolized by the use of Sympathy for the Devil's bridge in place of whatever it is he is saying to her. A blush spreads across Joan's cheeks... and Gentleman slams her in the gut with an uppercut of dark fire, sending her rocketing into the sky.
"Of course, one must occasionally be firm about one's convictions. Sometimes, a little discipline is needed. We run a tight ship around here, I can't make exceptions if anyone - even a good friend - slacks off. We're here to do a job, so let's be professional!"
Xl9 is busy writing for FiMFiction, typing away his latest 10,000 word Rainbow Dash love story... when he notices the casting of a shadow looming over the computer screen.
"So, I see you're using valuable company time... for My Little Pony fanfiction. You know where this is going."
"... Oh, shi-!"
The Gentleman clasps the back of Xl9's skull and slams his face repeatedly into the computer monitor.
"It's a cross to bear, I admit, but I do accept it with grace. I sometimes have to regulate my own actions. Self-discipline, after all, is key to professionalism."
Cue the Gentleman howling like a madman before burying his face into a pile of cocaine on the tits of a random prostitute at a seedy nightclub
"I'm the closest thing to a boss around these parts, being active assistant manager. It's endeared me to everyone here, and I like to think I'm the elder brother everyone looks up to."
Everyone in question tiptoes behind the Gentleman, weapons drawn, ready to pay him back... he just turns around and summons Lil'Kafka out of the depths of his hat yet again, sending the hardened warriors screaming for the door. Gentleman only smiles fondly as Kafka tears them apart, their screams sweet music to his ears
"And that's why I'm the best host in this business."
DEATH BATTLE ROYALE!!!
--- --- ---
The Gentleman, after a long day of smacking other co-hosts around... walks out of a flower shop, carrying a large bouquet of white roses. A cigarette jutting between his lips, he heads over to the nearest café. He has a date with a beautiful French woman, and he wouldn't miss it for the world.
The Gentleman whistles "Sympathy for the Devil" all along the way...