Post by chriscompost on Sept 2, 2009 16:55:07 GMT -5
A pickup truck that was once red a long long time ago, now being devoured by rust pulls into the Real Extreme Wrestling parking lot and steam starts to boil over from under it's hood. The driver side door pops open and a small irate gentleman jumps out as if his filthy dirt covered overalls were on fire.
“FUCK!!!” he curses outloud, popping the truck's hood and allowing the steam to hit his already red face.
“WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK!” ejaculates the angered elder, throwing his blue cap right into the steaming motor.
“Told ya' lassie was ove'heatin pops” declared a scrawny young man, leaping out of the passenger door.
“AND WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW 'BOUT CARS YOU SAD EXCUSE FOR A MAN?!! YOU DONT EVEN KNOW HER NAME MORON, HER NAME IS BESSIE NOT LASSIE!!!” screams the angered man. The duel between the two men is interrupted by R.E.W security.
“What seems to be the problem here?” asks a particularly thick looking member of Real Extreme Wrestling's Real Extreme Security team. The older gentleman points at the car looking at the guard as if the guard was from another planet.
The younger fellow does his best to explain the situation,
“Well ya see there, we was on our way to this here...wrasslin organization...I b'leve its called Ring Warriors and well, ol' lassie there started to cough and spit smoke outta her mouth...”
The older gentleman in the cap nearly pops a blood vessel in his eye from anger and slaps the younger man upside the head while screaming in his ear,
“DAMN IT BOY HER NAME'S BESSIE, ITS BEEN HER NAME EVER SINCE SHE CAME FROM THE FACTORY!”
The young man rubs the back of his head as he looks passively at the older gentleman and responds before continuing.
“WELL SHE TOLD ME 'ER NAME'S LASSIE PA AND DAMN IT MAYBE IF YOU WASN'T SO STUCK UP ON CALLIN 'ER BESSIE WE'D BE IN RING WARRIORS RIGHT NOW! *ahem* so I told 'pops to pull over so we could give 'er a break but he insisted that he aint stoppin in no dump like this one, so, you could say, we weren't plannin on talkin to none of yous at all. Ya see, we a high class people and pops here was gon be a huge star down there in Ring Warriors! We saw 'em on TV, nothin he cant handle but I cant say I care much for 'em brawling myself...”
The security guard lifts an eyebrow.
“Well that's a shame. About you car I mean, but you see, we here in Real Extreme Wrestling are hiring...I think our boss might be willing to let you have a few try out matches, if you want...and as far as your car goes, well, I'm not an expert, but I think it'll take more than just cooling off to get going again...”
The small elderly gentleman runs up to the taller security guard and growls at him, shaking a worn, leathery fist into the guard's face and declaring, through clenched teeth,
“YOU DON'T KNOW FUCK 'BOUT CARS SO KEEP YOUR FAT TRAP SHUT! BESSIE JUS NEEDS A LIL ALONE TIME ALONE!”
The guard steps back,
“Suit yourselves. But if you want to make it in the wrestling business, REW is a better bet than Ring Warriors, which I dont believe even exists anymore...”
The guard departs leaving the two men and bessie...or is it lassie, alone.
“So pops, u think u can get 'er started again?!! “ asks the younger man.
“She gon be jus' fine, jus' fine. Just gotta get 'er rollin” says the older man in a soothing tone as he pats the car on the hood.
The older man starts to push the worn our car when with a sudden spark, the front axle falls off, causing the car to do a nosedive into the cement of the Real Extreme Wrestling parking lot.
“FUCK!” cries out the man as the scene fades out.
“FUCK!!!” he curses outloud, popping the truck's hood and allowing the steam to hit his already red face.
“WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK!” ejaculates the angered elder, throwing his blue cap right into the steaming motor.
“Told ya' lassie was ove'heatin pops” declared a scrawny young man, leaping out of the passenger door.
“AND WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW 'BOUT CARS YOU SAD EXCUSE FOR A MAN?!! YOU DONT EVEN KNOW HER NAME MORON, HER NAME IS BESSIE NOT LASSIE!!!” screams the angered man. The duel between the two men is interrupted by R.E.W security.
“What seems to be the problem here?” asks a particularly thick looking member of Real Extreme Wrestling's Real Extreme Security team. The older gentleman points at the car looking at the guard as if the guard was from another planet.
The younger fellow does his best to explain the situation,
“Well ya see there, we was on our way to this here...wrasslin organization...I b'leve its called Ring Warriors and well, ol' lassie there started to cough and spit smoke outta her mouth...”
The older gentleman in the cap nearly pops a blood vessel in his eye from anger and slaps the younger man upside the head while screaming in his ear,
“DAMN IT BOY HER NAME'S BESSIE, ITS BEEN HER NAME EVER SINCE SHE CAME FROM THE FACTORY!”
The young man rubs the back of his head as he looks passively at the older gentleman and responds before continuing.
“WELL SHE TOLD ME 'ER NAME'S LASSIE PA AND DAMN IT MAYBE IF YOU WASN'T SO STUCK UP ON CALLIN 'ER BESSIE WE'D BE IN RING WARRIORS RIGHT NOW! *ahem* so I told 'pops to pull over so we could give 'er a break but he insisted that he aint stoppin in no dump like this one, so, you could say, we weren't plannin on talkin to none of yous at all. Ya see, we a high class people and pops here was gon be a huge star down there in Ring Warriors! We saw 'em on TV, nothin he cant handle but I cant say I care much for 'em brawling myself...”
The security guard lifts an eyebrow.
“Well that's a shame. About you car I mean, but you see, we here in Real Extreme Wrestling are hiring...I think our boss might be willing to let you have a few try out matches, if you want...and as far as your car goes, well, I'm not an expert, but I think it'll take more than just cooling off to get going again...”
The small elderly gentleman runs up to the taller security guard and growls at him, shaking a worn, leathery fist into the guard's face and declaring, through clenched teeth,
“YOU DON'T KNOW FUCK 'BOUT CARS SO KEEP YOUR FAT TRAP SHUT! BESSIE JUS NEEDS A LIL ALONE TIME ALONE!”
The guard steps back,
“Suit yourselves. But if you want to make it in the wrestling business, REW is a better bet than Ring Warriors, which I dont believe even exists anymore...”
The guard departs leaving the two men and bessie...or is it lassie, alone.
“So pops, u think u can get 'er started again?!! “ asks the younger man.
“She gon be jus' fine, jus' fine. Just gotta get 'er rollin” says the older man in a soothing tone as he pats the car on the hood.
The older man starts to push the worn our car when with a sudden spark, the front axle falls off, causing the car to do a nosedive into the cement of the Real Extreme Wrestling parking lot.
“FUCK!” cries out the man as the scene fades out.