RAGE declares WAR . . .

[BarryClarkJr]

{...camera opens up to backstage live at Riptide as the show has finally ended, you see the camera man running towards the back of the locker room area and you see 'Rage 'o Fire' just wearing boxers, all sweaty, and his eyes look to be a bit puffy from the attack earlier. He is throwing everything he can get his hands on. Finally he calms down for comments...}

JARED WELLS: M.W. Grossard, mister sneaky man. What's going on flake? How was your night? Are you having a good time? WELL, I'M NOT! The fact that I got my ass kicked *BEFORE* I even got to the ring really pissed me off. Oh, I love the pepper spray, very classy dude. But, I'm not mad about the loss my man. Oh No! I'm mad because of the way things went. Hey, I saw your face when I ripped the wig and dress off. You were shocked then? Wait 'till next round pal. I got something in store for you.

Me and my fans could sit here and scream and cry, but we won't. I have a TV title shot coming up, then after that, M-W-G, your finished. Enjoy the victory, go shoot the shows, go shoot the crap, whatever. Your a marked woman.....errrrr.....man. Choose your destiny, because your career in the GLCW will fade out faster than your three dollar haircut. You wanna dance bro? Well RAGE, he always leads. See you soon there buttercup....

...TIME HAS COME TO RAGE...

{...F/O...}

 

[NotorisSTD]

bitter much?

(MWG’s chilling out after the show in a cozy old bathrobe. Abby the Nazi, sitting on his lap, lights his cigarette while Bostwick paces around the room…)

“the surreal”
M.W. GROSSARD: mkay. Bostwick, hunny? Be a prince and call somebody who can tell me what the hell “fade faster than a three dollar haircut” means?

BOSTWICK: You want it, you got it. (whips out a cell phone, frantically dials, and can be heard rambling unintelligibly off camera for the rest of the spot…)

M.W. GROSSARD: For the life of me Ragesicle sweetums, I can’t understand what you’re upset about….well, why you’re upset at me anyway. Obviously, anyone in your shoes would be seething 24/7. But…I mean…gyyyeee, as if it’s my fault you suck. Of course I was shocked when you took the wig off. Never in a gahzillion years would I have thought you would be such a sexy chick. I simply couldn’t help myself.

My fans…are passionate fans. I can’t be held responsible for what they’re going to do when their love for me overcomes their reason.

ABBY: it’s true. I acted alone, out of my love for MW, and my hatred for all races except white Protestant heterosexuals. As was the case with the unfortunate candle lit shrine, which turned our house in Denver into a beautiful enflamed mosaic of death.…Vote Swartzaneger (spl) for California governor.

MWG: Um…yes. Do that.

I came to the show tonight intending to prove that what I had been saying was true. Honestly, I didn’t think it would be that easy. There was a split second reflex it took for me to hit my big move…and you ceased…to…exist…immediately. (snaps his fingers) like that. So you eyes hurt. Whoopdeedo. I broke a nail before the match. I didn’t complain. You shouldn’t be complaining now. You should be happy. You could’ve just gotten knocked unconscious. Instead you got to have sex with a third tier TV star. Did you thank me? I don’t think so. I’m never absolutely sure what you’re trying to tell me, but I think I detect a threatening tone in your voice. Y’know my mother had a saying…don’t write checks when you’re hemorrhaging out the anus…You’ve had your ass fed to you. Keep pestering me, and your whole world’s gonna turn into an ugly snuff porn flick, You dumb slut…