WARNING: The following is the uncensored, unedited promotional segment from Kenny Hardwood. The following footage will be edited and cleaned up for presentation on TV.
"And we're going in five... four..."
Fade into a shot of Kenny Hardwood, the thick Durrty Jerz with the mullet and porn star stashe, wearing a sleeveless white tee, jean shorts that go about one inch above his kneecap and workboots, standing in front of an MCW backdrop. He's got a microphone.
Director: (off-camera) ...three... two...
KH: Hey, what's up MCW? I'm Kenneth O'Halloran, but you can call me Kenny Hardwood. I got that name 'cuz I used to do hardwood flooring for all them Hasidic Jews up in Lakewood, and my buddy Jake gave me that name when we were playing stickball.
But I bet you guys don't give two flying fuc...
Director: (off-camera) No! You're not allowed to use that language. This is going to be on television.
KH: Aight, aight. Anyway, back to what I was saying before this douchebag interrupted me. I got into professional wrestling because I saw all those faggy flips and choreographed little stunts those fruits do in their skivvies, and I thought I could do that too, only be the holy piss out of all of them. Damn, I got into fights with gay bikers who looked tougher than those fairies on TV. Mopped the floor with their limp-wristed asses, all over the bar floor. One time, this biker dude wanted to watch some gay-ass show about the Rolling fuc...
Director: (off-camera) Hey... cool it on the F-notes, man. The editors have their hands full already.
KH: Alright, alright... well, this biker, he wanted to watch some show about the Rolling Stones, man fu... err, screw them right in their faggy asses man, Bruce, it's all about Bruce Springsteen! Fu... err... YEAH! Anyway, he wanted to watch this show, and it was the third quarter of the Giants game man. No one frigging turns the Giants game off, so I busted a beer mug over his head and flung his faggy ass all around the bar. Then I punched his broad in the face cuz the b!tch was giving me lip. I put that b!tch in her place. I don't remember much after that because I think one of those other homos clocked me over the head with a bottle or a chair or something. But anyway, I totally kicked the dude's ass. And he looked ten times gayer than anyone in this freakshow.
So why not give it a shot? I know everything there is to know about that Ultimate Fighting sh!t...
Director: (off-camera) You can't say that word either.
KH: What the f uck, what words can I f uckin' say then?
Director: (off-camera) Well, stay away from the F-bomb, the S-word and any racial or ethnic slurs and you should be alright.
KH: Alright, alright, we're cool, we're cool. I'm pumped.
Kenny pumps his fists.
KH: I'm frigging pumped! YEAH! Anyways, so yeah, I know all there is to know about that Ultimate Fighting stuff man. If those frigging pussies didn't fight so dirty, I'd totally be the king there, but I ain't gotta waste no time dealing with their bull, man. That's why I joined up wrestling, man. I know these fags are too limp-wristed to land a good cheapshot let alone a straight punch.
Like for example, this big ass gook they got me...
Director: (off-camera) Hey, what the hell did I say about the ethnic slurs?
KH: Hey, that ain't bad. It ain't like I called him a chink or a nip.
Director: (off-camera) Those are actually tame to what you called him there.
KH: Alright, man, you're so frigging pissy. Are you sure you ain't some broad on the rag instead of a dude?
Director: (off-camera) I'm not being pissy... I just... you know what, just keep going.
KH: Aight... well, anyway... this... big fat fu... err load, I thought all them goo... err, Orientals were supposed to be skinny. But I bet you got a little dick, don't you?
The director smacks his head. Kenny is oblivious.
KH: Yeah, all you gooks...
Director: (off-camera) Alright, should we just stop filming this and wait until you can come up with something a little less off-color to say?
KH: Hell no man... what's up your ass anyway? You ain't never been to New Jersey before, have you?
Director: (off-camera) Oh I have... I just know quite a bit of people from there who don't talk like you.
KH: Well, you probably know all them Hasidics from Lakewood, or them stuck up snobby b!tches from Cherry Hill or some of them university fags from Rowan. The real Jerz... man, he's real like I am. You want real Jersey? F uck that sh!t, you got him right f ucking here.
Director: (off-camera) You know what... alright, you're real, you're a big f ucking deal. I get it. But for the love of God, Mr. Ray is paying you a crapload of money to wrestle for this company, and you're some wet-behind-the-ears rookie. Just do me a favor and try not to curse.
KH: Alright, alright, we'll do things your way, Mr. Stuck up the Ass. You know, if this was a bar, you'da been thrown into the jukebox by now.
The director smacks his head again. Kenny, once again, is oblivious.
KH: You're so high and f ucking mighty. I should come down there and kick your ass right now. Yeah, how would you like them apples you pillow-biting queer? Huh? Yeah, that's what I thought.
The director's obviously ignoring him.
KH: Now, back to the big Oriental. Drunken Tiger or whatever the hell your name is, you fatass, you probably ate too many eggrolls or too much dog foo young or cat chow mein or whatever you pet-eating bastards eat. I see you, all trying to act tough because you're all big and all, well it ain't the size of the dog in the fight, and it sure ain't the size of the dog in your fat frigging belly either. It's the size of the fight in the dog. I may not look big, but I can handle myself, which is probably more than you can say for yourself.
Yeah, you made your living beating up all them other Orientals. Well, I made mine beating up on other Jersey guys in bars, and I won most of my fights. Everyone knows there ain't no one tougher than a Jersey man, and I'm as Jersey as they get. So you can get off on all those small-dicked, skinny guys you beat up on, but when I lock you in the Monkey Wrench, how are you gonna feel? And how are you gonna feel when I humiliate you in front of everyone out there in that arena? When everyone is cheering for me?
Cuz there's one thing a wrestling crowd loves, and it's not some fat-frig foreigner. It's the blue collar American worker. I paid my dues as a worker, and now it's time to start kicking ass and taking names, and taking this sport back where it belongs. Into the arms of the blue-collar, American worker.
Alright you f ucking *****. Is that good enough?
Director: (off-camera) Yeah, yeah it is.
KH: Yeah, that's right it is. Yeah. I'm gonna go get wasted now. F ucking Pabst Blue Ribbon, that's a man's beer baby. F ucking A. You better hope I don't run into you after I'm done drinking it. F ucking *****.
Kenny storms off-stage.
Director: Sh!t... this one's gonna need a lot of work.