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M.W. Grossard vs. Jean Rabesque

SteveA

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(the screen comes in on a GLCW backdrop, and as we slowly back away, Jean Rabesque comes into focus, today he is wearing his "SIMPLY THE BEST" t-shirt, which is one of the more popular out there today, as well as the rest of the normal gear, he promptly removes his shades, smiles for a second, and speaks)

Rabesque: I figured it would come to this. I busted my ass for months, I did everything that they asked of me. I worked hurt, I worked sick, and every time I produced. I beat the big names, I wrestled the main events, and I became the #1 contender. And then, I got my title shot, and it produced the MATCH OF THE YEAR in the GLCW for 2003. Jean Rabesque and Maelstrom in an absolute epic that saw me pass out at the end. Yeah, on that day Maelstrom was better, but the fans also showed their respect to the best two wrestlers the GLCW has to offer.

But what happened after that night? All the hard work, all the determination, and I was quickly thrown back into the scrap heap. Heck, not even in contention, sent to "wait my turn" once again. It's not that I expect to get a title shot every time, because that would be ludicrous, but this.... I didn't really expect this. I thought if anything Malec and Krusher knew business better than this. Throwing the man who everyone respects, who everyone wants to see at the top of the card, back into the midcard is a sham.

But what else am I going to do? I'm going to do the exact same thing I did for months as I was constantly overlooked for a title shot. I'm going to continue to kick every single ass that is thrown in front of me and gently remind those at the top the kind of mistake they're making. Hopefully, my performance in the ring will get the point across, and I hopefully won't have to resort to other things.

(Rabesque pauses for a moment, catches his breath, and then resumes)

It's been a little while since the fans of the GLCW have seen me in a singles match, but rest assured I've been keeping busy. I have a lot on my plate right now, but MWG, don't think for one second that I haven't had time to take a look at what I have ahead of me. You are step one on my unnecessary return, and I can assure you that this will not be the most..... pleasant of experiences.

I have been noticing what you've been doing MWG, this constant drive towards respectability, even if it is only for the sole purpose of keeping your job. I've noticed how your little punk Maximized has been keeping you in line. But I still notice that underneath it all, you're still the same sideshow freak that you've always been.

I'm not really sure that being a freak is something that ever really goes away. It's something that stays with you. While I'm proud that you're generally wearing men's clothes, and not completely making a fool of yourself, I still think you don't have what it takes to make it inside the wrestling ring at Wired. You just don't.

It really doesn't matter what you say, or what your little boy says, or what other sick stunt you try to play, of what longwinded crap you spew. You're still nothing but a sideshow that is stepping into the ring with the man that should be the F'N main event! There's a reason you are where you are Grossard, and there's a reason you are who you are. Those who can behave credibly and not act like.... well.... like you, Grossard, have no need to. Just the same, men who can wrestle don't need to wear dresses. That says it all Grossard. It really, really does. No false gimmicks, no false hype, I am Jean Rabesque.

(fade out)
 

NotorisSTD

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strange

(CUEUP: "Girl's not grey" by AFI...)
(upside-down GLCW logo banner...An unusually dour MWG stands, one hand on hip, cigarette in the other, "Sex, Violence, whatever" T-shirt...THE SECOND HOTTEST SELLING ITEM available at all GLCW merchandising stands, cutoff at the stomach and black thong
underwear...)

"The American Idol"
"The hardcore legend"
"the surreal"
"No Gimmicks Needed"
EM DUBAYA GEE: If you Spend enough time observing anyone...all you really need is a surface knowledge of their hopes and fears and what makes them tick 'n all that...you learn how they're going to react to almost any given circumstance. You don't really need to wait for them to speak, because you've heard it all before. I'm not clairvoyant,
but I can see the future by subscribing to a rarely shaken belief of mine that nothing ever really changes...

Here we have an obvious example in sexual vanilla himself...
Mr. Big Shot main event superstar has to lower himself to wrestling one of the sad pathetic average "boys."..or girls, as it were...Ch'know, like a person on the wrestling hierarchy
ladder where he was 6 months ago and will be again next time he gets a job somewhere the president doesn't like him as much as these two extraordinary gentlemen...Nevermind that I'm a legit TV star while you're still just a sports entertainer. It's a travesty none the less. Life is frustrating s'm times, huh Jean? Y'Want me to Rub it m'make it better muffin?...


I don't know anything about who you, Jean Rabesque are in real life, but I've been watching you on TV for years. I wasn't exactly shocked at your tone when commenting on our matchey watche...better
than me, that I'm a joke, I suck, I'm a nothing, a nobody, no one, and that you're wonderful beyond description, and you will end my career and ruin my life when my legs are reduced to dust by the awesome cosmic force that is your figure four leg lock...

I saw this coming because it's what you said to just about every opponent you've had in the last four years. I also know while you've had more than your fair share of victories, he's never ended anyone's career, nor is your ugly ass T-shirt the hottest selling article of GLCW merch. It's not even close...

(CUTTO: Bostwick B. Maximized, dressed as a regular arena flunky, sitting behind a GLCW merchandise stand...)

BBM: Oh sh1t son. We've done gone and run out of Rage of Fire foam fingers AGAIN!!!

(Abby the Nazi, dressed in arena flunky garb, swastika drawn on her forehead with a sharpie rises from under the table...)

ABBY: F(bleep) you, cream puff. I found one more. (raises the surviving RAGE finger from bellow the table...tis an oversized orange glove thing with a single finger raised from a first, bearing the phrase "RAGE OF FIRE: THIS GOES IN MY BUM")

(CUTTO: MWG...)

MWG: Speaking of consistency, obviously I've just GOT to make the same accusation every opponent Jean Rabesque has ever had has made before me. However, most people call you a homosesssual based on you French Canadian ancestry. For some reason the same sorts of
doods who decide they don't like gay people decide they don't like the French, so they assume their must be a connection?...er something?
I donno. Buh Me? I don't think Jean Rabesque is gay because he can speak French. I think he's gay cuz I've pleasured myself to this video Of Jean Rabesque giving head and luvin' it...

(CUTTO: Footage of a chap who may or may not be Jean Rabesque sucking off "Masturbating Lenny" at the conclusion of his final IWF appearance a few years ago. It's mostly censored out, but anyone who saw that show knows what they're seeing...)

MWG: Don't worry Jean, I've been there...and then some. I understand. It's okay. Friggin' religious zealot a$$holes mess up everybody's head is all it is. It's who you are. It's okay, babe...It's okay...So like, can we have sex now? C’mon hon…y’know what you’ve got. Those washboard abbs. That preadolescent ass….I know we've got this match and everything, and the integrity of the sport is important to you, but it really wont be a conflict of interest. You'd be surprised how easily I can sleep with someone and then giggle while I shove broken glass up their nose. So don't say Je t'adore. Just walk away. I'm too fast for love...

To you it's making love, to me it's porking...We're different you and I. We see artificiality differently too...To you, a gimmick is...well, any color besides grey...To me, a gimmick is anything one uses to market oneself, which means that you frequently tooting his own horn...even more than you toot other dood's horns, hee hee hee...for not having a gimmick is a gimmick in of itself. So his whole personality is not only drab beyond all hope, but one big ole logical catastrophe...But here's the tricky part. Just like I told the last one...This isn't an act. This is me. This is a shoot. It's always been a shoot. Which makes me a bahgillion times more honest than the one who supposed to be the most honest at
all...No false hype, No false Gimmicks, No Gimmicks Needed, I'm M.W.friggin'G...

And yeah, my stint on MTV was nothing but a marketing adventure, so I'm a hypocrite. So friggin' what? I've been called worse...An oversexed burned out hasbeen. A freak. A joke with a fluke
world title run. Hey, speaking of which, d'ja know like, I TOTTALLY pinned Maelstrom once, which apparently you're like, nawt good enough at this wrestling thing to do? But ch'know, all that stuff is kinda true. So I can hang, baby. It's cool...(starts breathing hard, as if repressing a fury which cannot be properly articulated...)But you
Jean Rabesque, you notoriously bland, one dimensional, endlessly repetitive, walking composite of several not very much less boring characters...Have the gaul to call me long winded? (snorts...and makes a noise somewhere between a giggle and a sob) I'm long winded am I?...heh. long winded. whoooo. (paces back and fourth across the screen for two ticks...then predictably snaps, screeching and wailing as if very much upset about something...) LONG WINDED?!?!?! F(bleep) YOU!!! YOU F(bleep)ING SUCK, you overrated pompous a$$hole!!! You wanna talk sh(Bleep) to me?!?!?! I'LL F(Bleep)ING KILL YOU. I'll slit your throat, guzzle your hemorrhaging living juice, and rape your corpse...I know where you sleep, you damn monkey...Trust me,
sister...You don't wanna cross swords with Em Dubya. She's a b1tch something awe-full...
 

SteveA

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Cute....

(the screen comes in on the GLCW banner, facing right side up once again, as Rabesque stands in front, a smile on his face, as he sheds the shades, sheds the bandana, and runs his fingers through his short dark hair, smiles again, and speaks)

Rabesque: Do you ever stop Grossard, and actually listen to yourself? Do you take a second and try to comprehend the things you say? I'm curious, because for the rest of us out here, it's a challenge, and I was wondering if it was the same for you. You start illogically and then it goes downhill from there. Yeah, I know that's part of the schtick. I know it's part of the sideshow, but could you please just once, JUST ONCE, make some sense. Or maybe it's just some tactic of making it more difficult by the day to find a coherent response to something that is growing more and more unintellgible by the day. Who knows, I guess I'll have to try anyway.

I have no problem being just a sports entertainer. It's in my blood. That's what I was born to do. And it's been proven that those who try to multi-task, almost inevitably fail, unless they have some...special quality. And MWG, while you may be.... special, I don't really think you exactly fit the mold of what that means. Sure, you're a mediocre TV star, you're a mediocre wrestler. Put them together and you have something that's really not all that bad. But unfortunately, only half of that is going to matter inside the ring. I'm 0% TV star, and 100% wrestler. If we were entering some kind of competition to who could perform better on MTV, you'd whip ass for sure. Too bad that has NOTHING to do with the task at hand. I focus on one thing and one thing only. I suggest you might trying to do the same.

I also don't back down from my previous statements about your...ability. Sure at one time you were a champion, not even a fluke a champion, a LEGIT champion. You even beat the almighty Malestrom (Chuckles). But where are you now MWG? What has become of you? Where exactly were you for all that time? Sure, the past is the past and put together one hell of a resume! But let's talk about the present for a second. You couldn't Mael's jock anymore... (chuckles) as much as you might want to. Hell, I'm not even sure you can handle "Showtime" Steven James, God bless him, who hasn't won a singles match in what seems like 14 years. You're just a shell MWG, and it's a shame, and it's an embarrassment.

(CUTTO: Split screen of the infamous IWF "incident," on one side it was our good buddy Lenny with the double, on the other side it was Rabesque watching the action take place live)

(CUTTO: back to the studio)

Rabesque: You know, I kind of hoped the issue would die someday, and the weak among us continue to bring it up. That footage says it all. It wasn't me, I wasn't out there. That was just an ungrateful owner who failed to realize that I made his league credible when no one else would dare step into it. I was a two time champion of that league, as well as holding another title for 13 months. I won everything in that league, and held every title I wanted. But then the owner decided he had a "favorite," and the rest as they say is history. I had already told him I was on my way out, and that was the final straw. Nothing more.... nothing less.

And again, another man that miscontrues the catch phrase. (chuckles) To repeat for the 100th time, I have never said anything about me being "No Gimmicks Needed," but instead NO FALSE GIMMICKS is all bout me not pretending to be something I'm not. It's not about me trying to market myself as some kind of character. It's about Jean Rabesque The Man, and Jean Rabesque The Wrestler. Yeah, I boast about myself, and I do it frequently. And you know what? I'm going to continue to do it until someone decides to shut me up, right in the middle of the ring. Sure, everyone gets tired of it, and then I challenge them to step up and put their money where their mouth is. And still to this today, NO ONE, not a single person has been able to prove their superiority to me as a technical wrestler. NOT A ONE! If you want to be next MWG, step up to the plate. It would be my pleasure to humble yet another. I've made quite a living doing that very thing.

Now, as for us.... MWG, if only you were so lucky. I got to be honest, part of the reason I don't live in Quebec anymore is because I don't swing that way. And if I did, what the hell would I be doing with you? Come on, look at yourself, look again, and be realistic. You'd be lucky to get barnyard animals to sleep with you. (chuckles) And I know the ideas are running through your head alright for the next promo, so you can just go ahead and stop right now, because none of us want to see that.

And before you go on your next little tirade, I have two words for you.... SPARE US. The little thing at the end of your last spot. As... cute as it might have been, no one's buying it. You just end up looking like more of a tool than you already did. Sorry, but the truth hurts.

Oh, and one more thing, check the stats, my shirts outsell them all. It's not really something I can explain... it's just the way it is. No false gimmicks, no false hype, I am Jean Rabesque.

(fade out)
 

NotorisSTD

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Age
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Boston and other places.
maybe it's like ah...something...something...

(CUEUP: "false angel" by mindlikewater...)
(MWG is once again in front of an upside down GLCW banner, in a giant yellow skirt, "happy noodle boy" T-shirt, butterfly wings, and a long black wig up in pigtails. He sheds his T-shirt, sheds his skirt, sticks a hand down his boxers Al Bundy style, throws his wig across the room, clips his toenails, takes his tongue piercing out, puts a tongue colored filler thingy in it's place so the hole doesn't heal, contemplates the nature of existence, goes to the bathroom to masturbate and do drugs, returns, does a happy dance, gets an eyelash stuck in his eye and has to take another 3 minutes to remove it, lights a cigarette to celebrate his triumph over the eyelash, stares at the wall for another 3 minutes, and then starts talking...)

"verbal entropy"
EM DUBYA GEE: I might talk baby talk, but at least I bother to say anything at all. You, commander Jean, went over how I'm a weirdo and you're going to win against me in your first vignette. And the other stuff you added for some sort of misguided attempt at color was just plain wrong. Not only can I still hold Mael's jockstrap, might
I say I do a darn spiffy job of it...

(CUTTO: The doorway into Maelstrom's personal locker room post GLCW show. MWG and “Maelstrom”…a guy who looks just like Maelstrom, but is actually just an actor playing Maelstrom, stand by the door in towels, having just taken a shower. “Mael” is flanked by four blonde groupies...A little editted in logo in the corner of the screen reads “reenactment of actual events…”)

MAEL: Uh, hey ummm....MW? I know we used to be enemies 'n everything, but could ja do me a favor?

MWG: Sure.

MAEL: Great. Would ja mind making sure nobody steals my jock while I'm railing these 16 year old Swedish quintuplets?

(the quintuplets squeal and giggle...)

MWG: No prob.

MAEL: Thanks dood. (pulls his jock strap out from under the towel, hands it to MW, and escorts his entourage into his locker room)

MWG: Kean Gear. (holds mael's jock strap up to the camera, smirks and nods knowingly, then throws up the bullhorns, as if to say "I Rock!!"...)

(CUTTO: MWG in present time...)

And hey now, that's a sexy camera trick. Lemme try...

(CUTTO: split sceen. On one side MWG is sitting in a corner chewing dead skin off the bottom of his feet, on the other is MWG watching the incident live from the other side of the room, eating an egg foo yung sandwich...)

(CUTTO: um...the original shot again)

MWG: And of course I already squashed Steven James, but it's not like I expect you to do your homework on stuff like that. Afterall, knowing what's already happened interferes with your creativity
when interpreting the past.

You wanted to know what I did during my little hiatus slash vacation slash excommunication from pro wrasslin'? Well, amongst other things I trained a bunch of Doe eye kids with big hearts 'n big dreams. They were my babies. My pets. I fed and nurtured them and cleaned up their mess...Then they all got jobs in the IWF. so I watched the show and followed the constant backstage drama. So your covers kinda blown with me babe. After Manson fed you your own butthole, what you could've done is admitted he was and is like, a gillion times better than you and dealt with it...or at least understood that professional sports has always been political, so whatever sucsess you've had was due to favoritism as much as anyone else’s. Y'really Think the Patriots getting a zillion dollar new stadium and winning the superbowl in the same year was a coincidence?....Anyway you didn't do either of those things, because
it would've taken a pair of testicles...where you...have...a...vagina...Which is why you went out of your
way to ruin your last match. You figured "what the hell, I'll be blowing this sexy compulsively masturbating stud after the show anyway. I might as well do it now, so I'll be able to blame his sexiness for this imminent loss..." The Crack Rock Crowders were knocking you around worse than Dick Cheney at a Dixie Chicks concert, and you took the easy way out...That was actually a pretty chicken sh(bleep) call too, huh guy?...Act-chually, you don’t care about the time honored tradition of the sport all all. You’re a hypocrite and a coward.

As this isn't Greco Roman Olympic style wrestling, being a great technical wrestler matters about as much as being on a TV show...Technically, Maelstrom proved he was a better wrestler than you like, gyeee, last week? Oh, I know you're good Jean...(licks lips) you're very good. You're just no where near as good as
you say you are. Which makes you either insecure about your short (grunts) comings or delusional or stupid. You're quite sound
of body and method. Your most prominent flaws lie in your brain meats. Your ass...sessment of my abilities is just kinda funny. I've been over all that already. I'm all washed up. My body is being held together by steel plates and silicone. My nads have been the size of pool balls ever since my body upped my testosterone to compensate for the estrogen I was getting during the sexual reassignment fiasco. I've picked up a few token victories since my return. I beat Stevie James. I beat Jarred Justice. Y'know. The fodder. The curtain (makes a loose fist and shakes it up and down) jerkers. Nobody impressive. I haven't beaten anybody like you, Jean Rabesque.

But what if I did?

Yeah, superficially there's probably no good reason I should be able to beat an athlete of your caliber. But Rage of Fire has a title shot, pumpkin. Anything's possible these days. In spite of the good reasons why I should go down, all the bad reasons are in solidly my favor. For example, If you happen to get hit on the head really really hard while you’re wrestling circles around me, the I’ll pin you while you’re unconscious, then slide your tounge up my bum and take a picture. Which makes this one of those I've got everything to gain and nothing to loose situations. And then there's you, who could wind up a humiliated shattered husk who loses to midcarders...just Like me. So F(bleep) you b1tch, you've got my balls in your mouth...

Was it a little immature and silly for me to go on about how I was gonna kill you? I guess. Whatever. I get called the wrong names, I get emotional. I crossed the line. Sowwey. So like, would it be okay if I went on about how I'd REEEEALLY like to kill you? Cuz letting me ravage your sphincter was basically your last chance to justify your existence. You're not providing any other useful function as a human being, so if you're not gonna be my personal sex muppet the question becomes why SHOULDN'T I kill you? You're wasting air, you're
wasting food, your carcass could probably feed a family of 6 in a third world country for 2 weeks, but f(bleep) them, I broke my blow up doll last night 'n need a replacement...The morally incorrect thing to do would be to let you keep living. So maybe I'll take a razor blade to your main arteries while you sleep, maybe I'll drop
you on your head the wrong way at Wired, maybe I'll poison your food, maybe I'll read you depressing horrible goth poetry 'till you hang yourself, maybe I'll just win the friggin' match and say F(bleep) the morally correct thing to do...Here's where you tell me that'll never happen. Whatever. I don't except you to admit I could ever beat
you. Not even after I kill you...(chuckles, and slaps himself on the forehead) Duh. you'll be dead. You wont be saying anything at all...for real this time.
 

SteveA

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Fun With Tony

(the camera comes in on on the glcw.com logo, and then to GLCW studios, where Tony Ross sits, dressed in what I guess you could call his normal gear, a GLCW logo blazened across the upper corner of his shirt, as he sits on a stool in the middle of the studio, we see the entire studio at a distance, and then the camera zooms on Tony, he carries a clipboard in front of him)

TONY ROSS: "Good evening ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to another segment of "One on One with Tony," to be broadcasted over the internet on our website glcw.com. With us today is the man at the most recent Riptide that nearly became the Great Lakes Champion, and one of the most beloved wrestlers today, of course I speak of Jean Rabesque. Jean joins us from his training center in Cincinnati. Good evening Jean, welcome and how are you?"

(CUTTO: Split screen, on one half of the screen is Ross, with "GLCW STUDIOS" superimposed under his name, on the other side, "CINCINNATI" is marked below Rabesque, Rabesque wears black, but no bandana)

JEAN RABESQUE: "I'm doing quite well Tony, thanks for having me."

ROSS: "You've had a busy schedule as of late, after that brutal match with Maelstrom you have an upcoming tag match on Riptide and then you have a one on one match with Madonna Wayne Grossard on Wired. First off, let me ask you about your spirits following your confrontation with Maelstrom."

RABESQUE: "Well, obviously Tony I'm a bit disappointed. I mean, you're talking to a guy that fortunately hasn't had to endure much losing over a long career. I knew going into that match it was going to take one hell of a performance to get it done. I think I proved to the world that I am definitely in that caliber, I had opportunities to win, and in the end, I made one mistake and someone of Mael's caliber is going to capitalize on it. But I'm holding up, I have a couple of opportunities to get back in the saddle here, to start all over if you will."

ROSS: "When you stay 'start over,' what exactly are you referring to? You've been somewhat critical of GLCW management as of late."

RABESQUE: "Well, whoever it is making those decision, be it Krusher, Malec or whomever, has determined that they're going to send me back down to the bottom. I was a bit upset at the start but I've generally resolved myself to the fact that there really is nothing that I can do about it. I just have to suck it up, do my job, and put on one hell of a show for the fans."

ROSS: "And when talk about this so-called 'demotion,' you are undoubtedly referring to one Madonna Wayne Grossard. But Jean, MWG is a former world's champion, despite however unorthodox he may be."

RABESQUE: "Was being the key term there Tony. I've said it before, the man has become a shell of himself, a mere sideshow freak. I truly wish he would just stop cluttering up the airwaves so someone worthwhile could take his spot. But, the higher ups determined that he is worthy of a spot here in the GLCW, so that's just something I'm going to have to deal with."

ROSS: "And how do you plan on dealing with some of his peculiar behavior?"

RABESQUE: "I think the key to dealing with someone like MWG is just not to let any of his antics get to you. That's one thing he always has been a master at and still is a master at, getting inside your head and forcing mistakes on his opponent. I know what's going to happen at Wired, he's going to go for all the, for lack of a better term, homosexual behavior that MWG has become famous for. Earlier in my career, back in the days of Beau Michaels, I would really let things like that bother me. Hell, Tony, I think you even called some of those matches. He'd pull the stunts, and I'd freak out, and then I would end up giving him the advantage. Fortunately, I learned from that experience, and now I know how to prepare against whatever he has in store."

ROSS: "And what about his tirades that have been coming at the end of his spots? Some of them have been, well... I guess you could call them graphic."

RABESQUE: "It's a stunt Tony, we've all seen this time and time before. He's trying to get noticed. I'm not exactly sure by whom, but nonetheless, it's all a ploy. Just take it for what it is. I mean it's one thing for a person to threaten you like that, but it's something totally different when you KNOW that person isn't capable of backing up a single thing they say. And MWG, as much as you may try to convince us all, you're not folling anyone. And not even that little manager of yours can help."

ROSS: "That brings me to my nexy question. Maximized... what kind of role do you see him playing in this match?"

RABESQUE: "You know, I really don't know the guy too well. He seems like a decent enough fellow, it might just be that he's totally mixed up with the wrong person. Hey, I'm all for someone trying to make a buck, but I think he might be going after a trivial pursuit on this one. As far as the match goes, it's just another thing you have to be aware of. Keep your head up, and it won't be a problem. I've dealt with far worse from JC before."

ROSS: "You mention JC, but as of late you seemed to be developing a kinship of sorts with one Dakota Smith. You and his father Nevada were tag team partners at a time. Do you see him possibly being a factor in this match?"

RABESQUE (chuckles): "You know, I don't really see a reason why he would be, but I do have a great deal of respect for Dakota. He's young, he's a raw talent, but it is impossible to ignore just how much talent is there. I would be happy to grab his back whenever he needs it, and if I get in trouble, I wouldn't mind seeing him do the same."


ROSS: "Back to the subject of Grossard, he claimed that your Greco-Roman background has about as much as basis to the match as his TV background. Do you really buy that claim?"

RABESQUE (again chuckling): "Tony, MWG does some stupid things, in fact, he says A LOT of stupid things, and I honestly think this one tops them all. Last I checked, this was Great Lakes Championship WRESTLING. There's nothing there about being a TV entertainer. Sure, before the match, have a good time MWG, knock your socks off. But none of that is going to amount to a hill of beans after I rip your arm off and beat you with the bloody stump. My wrestling background means nothing?? Have you been paying attention? The era of the flashy sports entertainer with no ring skills has come and gone. This era credits man that can actually get it done inside the squared circle, and trust me MWG, I'm not talking about getting it done the one way you're capable of."

ROSS: "Finally, the IWF, MWG has consistently tried to being it up, would you like to close the door on this issue.... once and for all?"

RABESQUE: "Sure, I'd love to, but unforutnately there is nothing new for me to say. I wasn't there, the footage proves that. Just a crooked promoter who could accept reality that's all."

ROSS: "Jean Rabesque, we would like to thank you for joining us and good luck in your upcoming matches."

RABESQUE: "Thanks Tony."

ROSS: "That's all for tonight. Join us again next week on glcw.com. Godo night!"

(camera fades away and eventually fades out)
 

NotorisSTD

League Member
Joined
Jan 1, 2000
Messages
397
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0
Age
37
Location
Boston and other places.
"Fun with Tony," = way too easy...

(Bostwick B. Maximized sits behind his desk, grinning and sweating with shaking hands, cuz like Tender Branson said; amphetamines are the American drug...you're anxious all the time, but you get a million things done and your middle name is accomplishment...Our subject rocks conservative yet spiky blond hair, "Evanescence" T-shirt under a red sports jacket, jeans, and big round sunglasses....)

"Dirty yuppie scum"
BOSTWICK B. MAXIMIZED: What's up party people? (clears throat) Some have pointed out that the presence of M.W. Grossard's creative advisor and career counselor on television has deluded as of late. We are not in the business of putting ourselves over at the expense of the talent. It's simply not productive story telling. However recent comments made by one of our favorite workers...the consummate professional,Jean Rabesque, have prompted a response...

Mr. Rabesque, as you know, you don't become successful in this business by being a "nice guy." You get successful in this business by skinning your competition alive, and or attaching yourself to the underbelly of someone who will do it for
you, I.E. your upcoming opponent. While we very much appreciate all you've given our company, we regret that your efforts are essentially for nawt. You resent being forced to start again "from the bottom." M.W. Grossard, while presently slumming it a bit, is a proven success in Japan. Dragonball Z. Hentai. Pokemon. That little cat thing.
NON STOP HITS, m'man. Now that his run on MTV's "The Real World: Colorado" has concluded, his star credibility rating can go no where but up. He has no competition. The other cast members are either dead or insane. The network has no one else to market, which equals cash money bank, cats 'n doggie dogs....

As you don't have the charisma or the mainstream appeal to ever make it to the top...our research has shown that being a little French actually rates lower with the Wal-Mart demographic than being, well, REALLY Queer...Your entire tenure with us will consist of coming within an eyelash of realizing the dream...only to get knocked down once again to midcard hell...where your pansy ass belongs. We're sorry...(cackles) Well, actually we don't care.

And now...From all the way in the back of the food stamp line, and straight outa matha F(bleep)kin' low cash...Raise yo motha f(bleep)kin' pipes in the air!! For the one man sex crime spree, The American Idol, no false gimmicks, no false hype, The Surreal EM...DUBYA...GEEEEE...It's pimpin'! bit<hes...


(cueup: "unstoppable" by Death by Stereo...)
(GLCW logo banner...this time with a big ole "X" spray painted over it. A sullen yet smirking, MWG stands...long black and red skirt, butterfly wings, no shirt, "Apathy" freshly tattooed across his stomach, hair mussed up, smoking a cigarette, being devious...)

M.W. GROSSARD: I can see the beginning of the end....

Right, so I remember...When I first came back, the idea was to reincarnate my wrestling career for the sake of a backward self help seminar. Being famous killed all my noble qualities and stroked all the well...less socially tactful sides of myself...The idea was to make the worst decision I possibly could. Get it over with. I realized cutting my penis off wouldn't get the job done. It was just a quick fix. I had to become a famous monster again to come out the other end able to build something better. Only....I was wrong. Bostwick showed me this, even if it was maybe only an accident...He put me on that show, where I reduced the other cast members to retarded monkey children, unable to intelligibly speak. My spunk muffled anything they tried to say...I ruined the show and everyone
connected with it...They worked hard for recognition that's all mine now. I picked up a news paper the other day...half the front page was a giant picture of Ben Afflec And Jennifer Lopez. There's no world anymore. Just TV. Our lives are significant in terms only of how many people are watching. There's nothing about me that needs to be fixed. I destroyed a Reality show. Now I have to destroy GLCW, and in the process become it's only recognizable personality. Once I've gotten all the airtime, everyone else will cease to exist...Then I'll move onto another show. Lather...rise...repeat...Until I'm the only one left on earth...

Which is interesting...cuz, well...Jean...What I didn't realized until I watched your little webcam interview that the era of the chopless sports entertainer was over. I had thought it wasn't an era so much as an integral cog in the machine of pro wrestling...After all, if you weren't gauged against so called "Side shows," you'd be the crazy one for fighting in spandex all the time...But I can admit my perception was askew. If the truth is what you say, everything's changed...

Believe it or not, I wouldn't mourn dishonesty's stranglehold on the the wrasslin' biz. I'm not that kind of girl...See....I've gotta secret...(motions on finger towards himself, 'n snickers playfully...) C'mere, so I can tell you...(Camera zooms waaaay in. The frame is the bottom half of MW's eyeballs to his chin...as
one will do when sharing something private, he whispers...) The Madonna Wayne Grossard of 1998? the kid who won the big title and everyone thought was such a wonderful creature? He was a lot dumber than I am, and he knew maybe a quarter as many wrestling holds as I do. Superficially I'm a just shell. In terms of my marketability, my value as a "sideshow," I already peaked. That's why someone tells you you're supposed to work a match against me, and you get your panties all bunched up. I'm not as big of a star as you'd like me to be. In your mind I've been the guy who fills TV time smashing up nobodies. The only watchable match I've had so far was my first one in 3 years...So really, you know exactly dick about what I can do...My celebrity status defines how you see me. For all your talk about my "abilities," they're moot in your eyes...

Which is no reason to be overly dismissive. of course I could kill you. So could every crackhead on your block. You could kill me too, y'know...maybe if you snuk up on me with hedge clippers or something...But oooohoooo, Mr. Super Guy Jean Rabesque would never do something unchivalrous like that. He'll use an interviewer guy to backhandedly warn me to not pull any funny stuff. But he'd never play clusterf(bleep)k cards himself...but I fear no Pandorian. Send in Dakota Smith. Send Mael. Send those four horsemen rip-off guys whos ears you used to blow in. I think I paid Suicide 10 dollars for a hand job two nights ago. He's working the corner of St. Stevens street, so pick him up and send him too...Send 'em all. We'll have ourselves a circle jerk. Engineer whatever excuse you want to save face with your (makes quote marks with fingers) "fans." You go and wash your hands of everything and come out looking like the good guy. I'll go to the bathroom, not wash my hands, then make a pizza and serve it to people who will then get violently ill. Then I'll tell them they're sick because I didn't wash my hands before I made their
pizza. Then I'll giggle...Just like I will when I'm using your blood as a lubricant. Because that IS the kinda girl I am. Think about it, won't you, B1tch?

(CUTTO: MWG's profile on the sex offender channel. Above his list of convictions there's a head shot of MWG gritting his teeth, throwing up a double handed bull horn sign....pinkies extended from two fists.)
 

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