TBirdSCIL
League Member
Please keep all RP for this match in this folder...
"Rage o' Fire" Jared Wells vs. M.W. Grossard
- Thread starter TBirdSCIL
- Start date
BarryClarkJr
DADDY
The Way We Are...
(Camera opens to Jared Wells leaving Gold's Gym in Baltimore as he is wearing white jogging shorts, and a Jared Wells tee shirt with the sleeves cut off. He then stops and looks into the camera for comments)
RAGE 'o FIRE: 'Ya know I've been in this business for years man. I've faced the best, and I've beaten the best. To quote Apollo Creed from Rocky, "I've retired more men than social security!" There is a reason for everything. I'm in the GLCW for a reason. The long dark road I've been down is finally starting to clear just a little bit. No more demons because I've beaten them too. Most people do not recover from the bull crap I've been through dude! I never want to live that dark life again. Starting out in this business young, earning the world title, then think your god can ruin a man. The ego takes over and you think nobody can stop you.
I guess what I'm trying to say is there is a reason why M.W. Grossard is the way he is. What's up MWG? What's going on man? You wanna talk about somebody that stands out in the crowd. Lights are on man, but nobody is home. MWG, I have no problem with you being the way you are. Personally I think your a great wrestler in my opinion. Yeah big deal, you scare people but you don't scare me. You can try all the mind games you want pal because it's not gonna work. Basically I'm a guy who hit rock bottom in my career and now I'm trying to get it all back and not even an army can stop me now.
I just went through hell in a battle royal, and was just on the verge of being the number one contender in the GLCW. But, too little too late I must say. So the aftermath is that I gotta go one on one with MWG. You can tip toe to the ring, dance, or prance because when the bell rings all my dreams, all my desires will take place. I've never faced somebody like you MWG, but there is a first time for everything. When you walk down that aisle you'll feel the wrath of my fans because they're all on my bandwagon. MWG, do you know what a RAGE-BOMB is? Have you ever been put in one? I will hook the head, I will lift you, and I'll drive you through the mat. Eventually when you wake you'll think is was just a bad dream. Only one problem, it will be REAL, it will be painful and your fairy tale life will crumble. I will bring the RAGE, I will bring the FIRE. What do you plan on bringing?
Tommy Bartlett's Water World in Wisconsin Dells is the place to be. I'm sure it will be sold out like normal. 'Ya see MWG, I'm on a mission to get a chance at becoming the GLCW champion. The quest started in January 2003 and since I've laid the path of RAGE. All I have to say is good luck on trying to stop my dreams, your gonna need it. No stoppin' me, no stoppin' me!
TIME HAS COME TO RAGE...
(FADEOUT)
(Camera opens to Jared Wells leaving Gold's Gym in Baltimore as he is wearing white jogging shorts, and a Jared Wells tee shirt with the sleeves cut off. He then stops and looks into the camera for comments)
RAGE 'o FIRE: 'Ya know I've been in this business for years man. I've faced the best, and I've beaten the best. To quote Apollo Creed from Rocky, "I've retired more men than social security!" There is a reason for everything. I'm in the GLCW for a reason. The long dark road I've been down is finally starting to clear just a little bit. No more demons because I've beaten them too. Most people do not recover from the bull crap I've been through dude! I never want to live that dark life again. Starting out in this business young, earning the world title, then think your god can ruin a man. The ego takes over and you think nobody can stop you.
I guess what I'm trying to say is there is a reason why M.W. Grossard is the way he is. What's up MWG? What's going on man? You wanna talk about somebody that stands out in the crowd. Lights are on man, but nobody is home. MWG, I have no problem with you being the way you are. Personally I think your a great wrestler in my opinion. Yeah big deal, you scare people but you don't scare me. You can try all the mind games you want pal because it's not gonna work. Basically I'm a guy who hit rock bottom in my career and now I'm trying to get it all back and not even an army can stop me now.
I just went through hell in a battle royal, and was just on the verge of being the number one contender in the GLCW. But, too little too late I must say. So the aftermath is that I gotta go one on one with MWG. You can tip toe to the ring, dance, or prance because when the bell rings all my dreams, all my desires will take place. I've never faced somebody like you MWG, but there is a first time for everything. When you walk down that aisle you'll feel the wrath of my fans because they're all on my bandwagon. MWG, do you know what a RAGE-BOMB is? Have you ever been put in one? I will hook the head, I will lift you, and I'll drive you through the mat. Eventually when you wake you'll think is was just a bad dream. Only one problem, it will be REAL, it will be painful and your fairy tale life will crumble. I will bring the RAGE, I will bring the FIRE. What do you plan on bringing?
Tommy Bartlett's Water World in Wisconsin Dells is the place to be. I'm sure it will be sold out like normal. 'Ya see MWG, I'm on a mission to get a chance at becoming the GLCW champion. The quest started in January 2003 and since I've laid the path of RAGE. All I have to say is good luck on trying to stop my dreams, your gonna need it. No stoppin' me, no stoppin' me!
TIME HAS COME TO RAGE...
(FADEOUT)
NotorisSTD
League Member
the tragic glory of...y'know. things.
(CUTTO: Still photo of the Real World cast group hugging and wholesomely grinning...)
BOSTWICK V/O: And now, highlights from the surprise season finale of the Real World: Denver...
(There's no sky to speak of. Just a giant cloud of red and black smoke that hangs over all as far as the eye can see. The hypp post modern artish little building is in flames...Ambulances and police sirens cut through the night like something sharp through something really thin and not very dense...Abby the Nazi girl is being hauled away in handcuffs, thrashing about frantically on her way to the back of a police car...)
ABBY: IT'S HIM!!! HE'S ADOLF HITLER!!! THE LORD JESUS CHRIST!!! HE PULLED THE MICROCHIP OUT OF MY BRAIN!!! LET GO OF ME CREAMPUFFS!!!!! HOW CAN YOU ALL BE SO BLIND?!?!? THE ESKIMOS ARE EATING OUR BABIES!!! LEMME GO!!! I WANNA HELP BEAT THE N(Bleep)ER!!! LEMME GO LEMME GO LEMMEGO LEMMEGO LEMMEGOLEMMEGOLEMMEG-
(Abby's silenced as the car door slams...)
(CUTTO: What looks like a giant charred worm wearing a red and black Halloween mask is tied down to a stretcher being loaded into the back of an ambulance. M.W. Grossard, shivering, blanket draped over his shoulders stands by along with an EMT and a cop...)
COP: You say these are the only two other survivors?
EMT: Indeed. Although I don't know if you can call having your arms burned off and having your whole body covered in third degree burns surviving...
MWG: Ernie, jesus christ baby doll, I'm so sorry....
ERNIE: (monotone voice through throat cancer device pressed up to throat) "eeehhhh....God made me a freak. Now he's made me an abomination. I will make every beautiful creature on earth suffer for what's been done to me."
MWG: Yeah um...good luck with that.
(Ernie moans as he's likewise tossed into the back of the wagon...)
EMT: And you say his legs had been previously amputated?
MWG: Yeah. er something.
COP: How is it you are the arsonist are the only roommates left uninjured?
MWG: I was down the street shooting a promo for a wrestling show when all this happened.
(CUEUP: "everybody hurts" by REM...)
(CUTTO: M.W. Grossard is wearing a tattered old "WWX" T-shirt cutoff at the stomach, a neon purple miniskirt, rainbow socks and giant raver sneakers. Cigarette in one hand, bottle of Stacking 2.3 occasionally making a shaking noise in the other. Standing in front of a 7-11, sneering an utterly inhuman sneer...)
"the American Idol"
M.W. GROSSARD: There is no free will. Everything in manifest. If it makes a bleak sort of sense for something to happen, it'll happen....
Case 'n point; this upcoming triste featuring myself and someone special. someone my career has just about run parallel too, yet if we've ever had a match neither of us remember. You people know him as Mr. Comeback kid. Mr. was a big deal years ago before everyone realized how worthless he was. Mr. Two time loser who finally made good. Mr. WWL. Mr. couldn't cut it on a show people took seriously until just recently. Mr. On TV every 10 minutes weeping like an old woman at a wedding about how wonderful it is to be accepted and respected in a locker room full of finely toned bodies...Well Jarred Wells, I used to be a worth champion, and now I'm a two time loser. I've never gotten too far anywhere considered legitimate by the people who pass those kinds of judgments. And no one in the GLCW locker room will so much as make eye contact with me, much less treat me like a valued contributor to the collective effort that is a weekly wrestling show. I don't wonder why. I like the sauce. I like my nose candy. While I do have a penis and will stick it in just about anything that moves, the heightened estrogen levels in my body have left me basically gender neutral. Before I had the surgery which made that possible, various blunt objects were broken against my spine on a nightly basis in Japanese death matches. I've been known to have an ego. I think everyone sucks compared to me, and I get my panties in a knot if I'm not treated like it. I'm a political, social, physical, legal, and sexual liability. You're most of these things too. You're not smart. you've publicly registered just as many hissy fits as I have. You used to quit the WWL over royalty disputes and the jepordization of "you're slot," something like twice a week. You're notoriously sloppy. And If anyone's got the gaydar to say so, it's me. Rage of Fire's a Ragin' Flamer. We have SOOOO much in common...But we're not equals, sweetie darling. Actually...
I'm a lot better than you.
Your new buddies in the back know it. King Krusher knows it. Your wife and kids know it. Dogs know it.
So when do I become a sentimental favorite? When do I stop having to play the washed up queen who never should've come out of retirement? Where's my uppermidcard push? WHERE ARE MY F(bleep)KING PROPS, Rage?....Well, I'll tell you where they are. They're up King Krusher's ass. I could've licked it out, as you did. Or, OR, I can exploit something else that separates me from you. My superior intellect. I can't feel the way I did before. Don't turn your back on me. I wont be ignored. I'll never be ignored again. Now I know. It doesn't matter what you accomplish. It doesn't matter how hard you work or what your intentions are. Good are evil are moot. What you do is meaningless. It's how many people are watching when you do it. I don't have fans. I have a legion of people who know who I am, but have no ability to form opinions about anything...I've indulged in perverted cheap sex and over the counter drug abuse for a few months, and it's more important than your whole life nevermind your silly little rise back to grace. Your heartfelt struggle to overcome adversity? well the ratings sucked. Wrestling's gotten passe. It's too epic and colorful for anyone to relate to. People want something as mundane and stupidassed as their own lives. Horatio Alger is DEAD. We live in Mediocre Generica. I am a somebody. You're barely a nobody. I could crack open your skull, stab your eyes and eat your brains with a rusty desert fork in the middle of a crowded street in broad day light sweetums, and it would be newsworthy only because I'm f(bleep)ing famous.
Don't talk to me about nightmares and fairy tales and dark places. Don't tell me how bad it was when you thought you were invincible then tell me an army couldn't stop you now. Just shut up and listen frrr a sec, mkay hun? You talk about dreams like you're the only one who has them. You never mention all your glory and self satisfaction only comes at the expense of a superior product being held back. Shaft through the heart, and you're to blame. You give love a bad name. MWG is not the sort of fly honey who's going to take a hosing without dispensing one of her own...oh no sir. (licks lips) No, MWG is a bitter, vindictive, heartless B1TCH....You're not afraid of me, Rage. Lets see what your nasty auntie Madonna Wayne can do about that...
(flashback over. back to the fire scene. A Limo pulls up next to M.W. sitting on the sidewalk. Bostwick B. Maximized hops out and starts flailing his arms about excitedly...)
BOSTWICK: M.W, babe, the numbers are in, You're a STAR AGAIN!! the network's rerunning the surprise pyro ending 12 times a day!!! The 4 dead cast members are getting hour long memorial specials, you and the other two alive ones are getting individual biography shows to chronicle your um...y'know. Dealing with all the ah, sad stuff. They're talking SPINOFF, your own TALK SHOW, testicles of jesus christ, you're gonna play yourself in the FILM ADAPTATION OF YOUR OWN LIFE?!!??!?! (sighs, wipes his face, pops open a bottle of crystal...) We are SO proud of how far you've come. You are now one of us!
(MW smiles, and pops a handful of Stacking 2.3....)
(CUTTO: Still photo of the Real World cast group hugging and wholesomely grinning...)
BOSTWICK V/O: And now, highlights from the surprise season finale of the Real World: Denver...
(There's no sky to speak of. Just a giant cloud of red and black smoke that hangs over all as far as the eye can see. The hypp post modern artish little building is in flames...Ambulances and police sirens cut through the night like something sharp through something really thin and not very dense...Abby the Nazi girl is being hauled away in handcuffs, thrashing about frantically on her way to the back of a police car...)
ABBY: IT'S HIM!!! HE'S ADOLF HITLER!!! THE LORD JESUS CHRIST!!! HE PULLED THE MICROCHIP OUT OF MY BRAIN!!! LET GO OF ME CREAMPUFFS!!!!! HOW CAN YOU ALL BE SO BLIND?!?!? THE ESKIMOS ARE EATING OUR BABIES!!! LEMME GO!!! I WANNA HELP BEAT THE N(Bleep)ER!!! LEMME GO LEMME GO LEMMEGO LEMMEGO LEMMEGOLEMMEGOLEMMEG-
(Abby's silenced as the car door slams...)
(CUTTO: What looks like a giant charred worm wearing a red and black Halloween mask is tied down to a stretcher being loaded into the back of an ambulance. M.W. Grossard, shivering, blanket draped over his shoulders stands by along with an EMT and a cop...)
COP: You say these are the only two other survivors?
EMT: Indeed. Although I don't know if you can call having your arms burned off and having your whole body covered in third degree burns surviving...
MWG: Ernie, jesus christ baby doll, I'm so sorry....
ERNIE: (monotone voice through throat cancer device pressed up to throat) "eeehhhh....God made me a freak. Now he's made me an abomination. I will make every beautiful creature on earth suffer for what's been done to me."
MWG: Yeah um...good luck with that.
(Ernie moans as he's likewise tossed into the back of the wagon...)
EMT: And you say his legs had been previously amputated?
MWG: Yeah. er something.
COP: How is it you are the arsonist are the only roommates left uninjured?
MWG: I was down the street shooting a promo for a wrestling show when all this happened.
(CUEUP: "everybody hurts" by REM...)
(CUTTO: M.W. Grossard is wearing a tattered old "WWX" T-shirt cutoff at the stomach, a neon purple miniskirt, rainbow socks and giant raver sneakers. Cigarette in one hand, bottle of Stacking 2.3 occasionally making a shaking noise in the other. Standing in front of a 7-11, sneering an utterly inhuman sneer...)
"the American Idol"
M.W. GROSSARD: There is no free will. Everything in manifest. If it makes a bleak sort of sense for something to happen, it'll happen....
Case 'n point; this upcoming triste featuring myself and someone special. someone my career has just about run parallel too, yet if we've ever had a match neither of us remember. You people know him as Mr. Comeback kid. Mr. was a big deal years ago before everyone realized how worthless he was. Mr. Two time loser who finally made good. Mr. WWL. Mr. couldn't cut it on a show people took seriously until just recently. Mr. On TV every 10 minutes weeping like an old woman at a wedding about how wonderful it is to be accepted and respected in a locker room full of finely toned bodies...Well Jarred Wells, I used to be a worth champion, and now I'm a two time loser. I've never gotten too far anywhere considered legitimate by the people who pass those kinds of judgments. And no one in the GLCW locker room will so much as make eye contact with me, much less treat me like a valued contributor to the collective effort that is a weekly wrestling show. I don't wonder why. I like the sauce. I like my nose candy. While I do have a penis and will stick it in just about anything that moves, the heightened estrogen levels in my body have left me basically gender neutral. Before I had the surgery which made that possible, various blunt objects were broken against my spine on a nightly basis in Japanese death matches. I've been known to have an ego. I think everyone sucks compared to me, and I get my panties in a knot if I'm not treated like it. I'm a political, social, physical, legal, and sexual liability. You're most of these things too. You're not smart. you've publicly registered just as many hissy fits as I have. You used to quit the WWL over royalty disputes and the jepordization of "you're slot," something like twice a week. You're notoriously sloppy. And If anyone's got the gaydar to say so, it's me. Rage of Fire's a Ragin' Flamer. We have SOOOO much in common...But we're not equals, sweetie darling. Actually...
I'm a lot better than you.
Your new buddies in the back know it. King Krusher knows it. Your wife and kids know it. Dogs know it.
So when do I become a sentimental favorite? When do I stop having to play the washed up queen who never should've come out of retirement? Where's my uppermidcard push? WHERE ARE MY F(bleep)KING PROPS, Rage?....Well, I'll tell you where they are. They're up King Krusher's ass. I could've licked it out, as you did. Or, OR, I can exploit something else that separates me from you. My superior intellect. I can't feel the way I did before. Don't turn your back on me. I wont be ignored. I'll never be ignored again. Now I know. It doesn't matter what you accomplish. It doesn't matter how hard you work or what your intentions are. Good are evil are moot. What you do is meaningless. It's how many people are watching when you do it. I don't have fans. I have a legion of people who know who I am, but have no ability to form opinions about anything...I've indulged in perverted cheap sex and over the counter drug abuse for a few months, and it's more important than your whole life nevermind your silly little rise back to grace. Your heartfelt struggle to overcome adversity? well the ratings sucked. Wrestling's gotten passe. It's too epic and colorful for anyone to relate to. People want something as mundane and stupidassed as their own lives. Horatio Alger is DEAD. We live in Mediocre Generica. I am a somebody. You're barely a nobody. I could crack open your skull, stab your eyes and eat your brains with a rusty desert fork in the middle of a crowded street in broad day light sweetums, and it would be newsworthy only because I'm f(bleep)ing famous.
Don't talk to me about nightmares and fairy tales and dark places. Don't tell me how bad it was when you thought you were invincible then tell me an army couldn't stop you now. Just shut up and listen frrr a sec, mkay hun? You talk about dreams like you're the only one who has them. You never mention all your glory and self satisfaction only comes at the expense of a superior product being held back. Shaft through the heart, and you're to blame. You give love a bad name. MWG is not the sort of fly honey who's going to take a hosing without dispensing one of her own...oh no sir. (licks lips) No, MWG is a bitter, vindictive, heartless B1TCH....You're not afraid of me, Rage. Lets see what your nasty auntie Madonna Wayne can do about that...
(flashback over. back to the fire scene. A Limo pulls up next to M.W. sitting on the sidewalk. Bostwick B. Maximized hops out and starts flailing his arms about excitedly...)
BOSTWICK: M.W, babe, the numbers are in, You're a STAR AGAIN!! the network's rerunning the surprise pyro ending 12 times a day!!! The 4 dead cast members are getting hour long memorial specials, you and the other two alive ones are getting individual biography shows to chronicle your um...y'know. Dealing with all the ah, sad stuff. They're talking SPINOFF, your own TALK SHOW, testicles of jesus christ, you're gonna play yourself in the FILM ADAPTATION OF YOUR OWN LIFE?!!??!?! (sighs, wipes his face, pops open a bottle of crystal...) We are SO proud of how far you've come. You are now one of us!
(MW smiles, and pops a handful of Stacking 2.3....)
BarryClarkJr
DADDY
Only Time Will Tell
(Camera opens up to JARED WELLS standing around the GLCW backdrop wearing his wrestling gear and holding a bottle of Stacking 2.3 in his hand)
RAGE 'o FIRE: Games! Your ALL-LA-BOUT the games right? (Laughs) 'Ol RAGEY is gonna teach you a lesson in GAMES pal. Your fairy tale from the REAL WORLD to your professional career as a wrestler will FINALLY end! You can sit there prancing 'round about yourself, but your words nor will your actions help you. Let me ask you this M-W-G, have you ever been close to death itself? HAVE YOU?! Have you ever lived out of your damn car bummin' money from people? Have you ever had an addiction so bad that it should have killed you? Have you ever had somebody tell you that your gonna be a bright star, give you something and take it away from you? Kick you to the curb?
(...WELLS SNAPS)
NO YOU HAVEN'T YOU SON OF A #####! It drove me crazy! You say nobody will look you straight in the eye!?
(...EVIL LAUGH)
Wait 'till we get into the ring dude! I will not have any second thoughts into putting you through hell. Basically I'm gonna look you eye to eye, nose to nose and ask you if you want to live forever!? I'm asking my fans to forgive me for my actions but there something I gotta do, and even the GLCW boards will be on the of their seats. M-W-G, guys in the back might be scared of you, BUT I'M NOT! You might intimidate the guys, BUT NOT ME! I'm been through too much B-S to let you do this!
(...WELLS SNAPS AGAIN AND THROWS BOTTLE)
HOW DARE YOU SIT THERE AND TALK ALL THAT GARBAGE! Your mouth is like a damn sewage plant!
(...WELLS CALMS DOWN FOR 1min, TAKES DEEP BREATH AND SMILES)
This is good man. This is what M-W-G is good at. Take the easy cheap shot a somebody to get them all confused, angry, <BLEEP> with their head a 'lil bit. If I gotta meet the devil himself just to beat your sorry ass, I WILL. I'm not gonna lie to you M-W-G, I've never had this kind of challenge but I never back down. Me and my fans created 'Rage 'o Fire' years ago man, and the ROAD OF RAGE must continue BRO! If I were you I would take that WWX shirt off because you do not deserve to wear it. Your a disgrace to the GLCW, and to WRESTLING itself. This might sound familiar but enough is enough and it's time for a change. After the RAGE-BOMB BOY, your life will change within seconds. Instead of wearing pink, you'll wear black. Instead of the guys, it will be the girls. AND OH OF COURSE, you'll like to insert it, not be inserted! My fans will understand because they are all on the path of rage. Your way of thinking, your memories, all that crap will be just a scar in your head. I'm not lookin' for any wrestling match....OH NO....I'm lookin' for a fight DUDE!
(...WELLS HOLDS UP THE BOTTLE OF STACKING 2.3, DROPS IT, CRUSHES IT WITH HIS FOOT)
Just come to RIPTIDE plain 'n simple man. Just remember one thing and one thing ONLY...
[/b]...TIME HAS COME TO RAGE...[/b]
(Camera opens up to JARED WELLS standing around the GLCW backdrop wearing his wrestling gear and holding a bottle of Stacking 2.3 in his hand)
RAGE 'o FIRE: Games! Your ALL-LA-BOUT the games right? (Laughs) 'Ol RAGEY is gonna teach you a lesson in GAMES pal. Your fairy tale from the REAL WORLD to your professional career as a wrestler will FINALLY end! You can sit there prancing 'round about yourself, but your words nor will your actions help you. Let me ask you this M-W-G, have you ever been close to death itself? HAVE YOU?! Have you ever lived out of your damn car bummin' money from people? Have you ever had an addiction so bad that it should have killed you? Have you ever had somebody tell you that your gonna be a bright star, give you something and take it away from you? Kick you to the curb?
(...WELLS SNAPS)
NO YOU HAVEN'T YOU SON OF A #####! It drove me crazy! You say nobody will look you straight in the eye!?
(...EVIL LAUGH)
Wait 'till we get into the ring dude! I will not have any second thoughts into putting you through hell. Basically I'm gonna look you eye to eye, nose to nose and ask you if you want to live forever!? I'm asking my fans to forgive me for my actions but there something I gotta do, and even the GLCW boards will be on the of their seats. M-W-G, guys in the back might be scared of you, BUT I'M NOT! You might intimidate the guys, BUT NOT ME! I'm been through too much B-S to let you do this!
(...WELLS SNAPS AGAIN AND THROWS BOTTLE)
HOW DARE YOU SIT THERE AND TALK ALL THAT GARBAGE! Your mouth is like a damn sewage plant!
(...WELLS CALMS DOWN FOR 1min, TAKES DEEP BREATH AND SMILES)
This is good man. This is what M-W-G is good at. Take the easy cheap shot a somebody to get them all confused, angry, <BLEEP> with their head a 'lil bit. If I gotta meet the devil himself just to beat your sorry ass, I WILL. I'm not gonna lie to you M-W-G, I've never had this kind of challenge but I never back down. Me and my fans created 'Rage 'o Fire' years ago man, and the ROAD OF RAGE must continue BRO! If I were you I would take that WWX shirt off because you do not deserve to wear it. Your a disgrace to the GLCW, and to WRESTLING itself. This might sound familiar but enough is enough and it's time for a change. After the RAGE-BOMB BOY, your life will change within seconds. Instead of wearing pink, you'll wear black. Instead of the guys, it will be the girls. AND OH OF COURSE, you'll like to insert it, not be inserted! My fans will understand because they are all on the path of rage. Your way of thinking, your memories, all that crap will be just a scar in your head. I'm not lookin' for any wrestling match....OH NO....I'm lookin' for a fight DUDE!
(...WELLS HOLDS UP THE BOTTLE OF STACKING 2.3, DROPS IT, CRUSHES IT WITH HIS FOOT)
Just come to RIPTIDE plain 'n simple man. Just remember one thing and one thing ONLY...
[/b]...TIME HAS COME TO RAGE...[/b]
NotorisSTD
League Member
phantoms and puppies....
[updated:LAST EDITED ON Jul-22-03 AT 00:55 AM (EST)](CUEUP: "Ruin your life" by Abandoned Pools...)
(A bright sunny day at a puppy ranch somewhere in one of the cuddlier parts of Texas. M.W. Grossard sits upon a lawn chair, long black skirt and a cutoff old black and neon green D-XXX T-shirt, sometimes dragging off a cigarette, sometimes swigging a jug of 15$ vodka, puppies frolicking across everywhich way at his feet, drunk and snide, the a$$hole who ruins every party...)
"the hardcore legend"
M.W. GROSSARD: Mkay Rage of Studly...I need you to shut your mouth and open your ears for just a few minutes. Try to focus, maybe some of this will soak in. You need to get with the program, babe...You can't afford to be such a simp. The key to winning friends, having a good time all the time, and looking absolutely ravishing is to at all times keep in mind; What's out...is...In.
Like I already told you, our lives are like, sorta identical, although I would never lower myself to beg for cash. I suppose swapping fallacio for drugs would be considered less socially
acceptable, if one were to play the morality card. I'm sure that sort of thing was considered common practice when the barter system was still used. I was really into crystal meth for a while, but for some reason nowadays I can't seem to get enough of Stacking 2.3...the worlds strongest brain cell burner. (holds bottle of pills, who knows where they came from, up to the camera and winks) And for the zillionth time, I remind the world that I was WAR champion. I pinned
Maelstrom. I was a famous insane person. I was feared and respected and loved and hated and all that I could be. And Then I was nothing. Overnight. So like, actually, if anyone can relate to your endless melodramatic self absorbed pi$$ing, I can. That doesn't mean I
respect you for having endured some of the things I have or even take you seriously. I'm sensing that what you think of as the grizzly, gloomy, third act of your Behind the Music special, I equate with, y'know, like, the reality of daily life. Blown opportunities, random sex, drinking binges, vomiting on cop cars, STDS, cutting out the bottoms of my pockets so I can masturbate in public, shop lifting, statutory rape, Skipping court ordered NA AA CA and SA meetings, coke
binges, thinking I can see my own thoughts after no sleep or food for a week, my picture on the sex offender channel, fixing midget boxing matches, fake IOUs, forging other people's signature on stuff, eating veal, lying to juries, ticket scalping, stealing umbrellas, strange blue liquid draining from my ear, the exquisite humiliation of going to the emergency room to beg them to remove a rodent from my bum. These things that you barely survived I thrive on. So don't make an ass of yourself by thinking you know about me, Rageums. Nobody ever knows anybody. You are never gonna know me. Prolly you'll never know anything at all...
You think I'm talking garbage and playing head games. Maybe you're right. In which case, it'd be awful stupid to go and get all hot and bothered knowing that was my plan all along. Yet there you are. All hot and bothered. Right where I want you. hmmmm...(licks lips) Try not to blow your load quite yet. It gets worse. I'm actually not bullshitting you. I mean everything I say and because,
like I said, I understand your angst and your quest to reclaim all that lost glory, I'm in a unique position to comment on your condition. The parts of myself I see in you make me more than a little uncomfortable. Probably you feel the same way about me, for a different set of reasons. We both got over by ridding the coat tails of something trendy. DXXX in your case. For me it was Marilyn Manson inspired goth monsterdom and sadomasochistic hardcore matches, and oh yeah, homophobia, but then that NEVER seems to loose it's audience appeal for some reason. Neither of us were talented enough to have any staying power once we went out of style. We were both frauds,
Rageepoo. But I changed. I smartened up. I'm a REALITY TV star now. As long as people are stupid and actors want to be paid, Reality TV's not going anywhere. You're still spouting tired buzzwords and clichés like it's 1998. You smash a bottle of pills and I'm supposed to soil myself with terror? Why not just do a crotch chop 'n tell me to suck it? Maybe then I'll believe you could cripple me, nevermind actually intend to try. Of course I'm a disgrace to wrestling. So are you. The difference between us is I know I'm a disgrace and embrace that...You will turn purple with indignation at my suggestion that you're a
disgrace as soon as you watch this tape...It's your pride, Rage of snuggles. That's what revolts me about you. I don't need to maintain any delusions about who I am. You on the other hand, in spite of all the junk we undeniably have in common, will throw a hissy fit at the accusation that you're anything like me. You want to believe you're better than me just like the rest of these elitist a$$holes, but at least some of them actually did get where they are with genuine hard work 'n talent 'n junk...Which basically makes them kinda stupid and or not lucky enough to get over the way we did...
And you're the one who gets to be angry. You're the one who's going to mess me up...(shakes his head,and grins mischievously) Not on my watch, motherf(Bleep)r. The people you call fans like you cuz you're stupid and angry like they are. They didn't wanna handle a, y'know, real person like me. You don't ever wanna visit your dark
place again, muffin? Screw you! I AM THE DARKPLACE...I'm everything about yourself you've been denying. I'm the dark underbelly of professional wrestling. I'm every doe eyed 18 year old kid with a dream of being a super hero for a living who comes out the other end with two ex-wives, kids who wont talk to him, and a nasty painkiller
habit. I'm a piledriver gone horribly wrong at a BYW show. I'm the kid who got punched out when he asked Maelstrom why signed his autograph book with the name "Nevada Smith." And I will not be ignored by sentimental grundle licks like you any longer.
Except of course, I'm completely full of sh1t and really don't care about any of those people. But hey baby, I'm in it for fun and games. I don't care who gets hurt. Even if it's me, "which it most likely will be," but especially not if it's Rage of Fire, "which it absolutely will be." I guess what I'm really trying to communicate here, is that when I feed Rage his own face, I'll be giggling and stroking myself not because I'm an evil psychopath, but because
I stand for something. Maybe not honestly and certainly nothing along the lines of good or evil. Really, I don't even stand for cynicism. See...I don't wanna live forever. It's the last thing I'll ask. I just wanna live fast...
Y'see kids, even after all this time, "Rage of Fire" Jarred Wells still sucks....(his original cigarette long gone, he pulls another one out of thin air, lights it, and sits back for a second...).....Oops....(chuckles warmly) I did it again. I went and lied to you once more. I AM an evil psychopath.
[updated:LAST EDITED ON Jul-22-03 AT 00:55 AM (EST)](CUEUP: "Ruin your life" by Abandoned Pools...)
(A bright sunny day at a puppy ranch somewhere in one of the cuddlier parts of Texas. M.W. Grossard sits upon a lawn chair, long black skirt and a cutoff old black and neon green D-XXX T-shirt, sometimes dragging off a cigarette, sometimes swigging a jug of 15$ vodka, puppies frolicking across everywhich way at his feet, drunk and snide, the a$$hole who ruins every party...)
"the hardcore legend"
M.W. GROSSARD: Mkay Rage of Studly...I need you to shut your mouth and open your ears for just a few minutes. Try to focus, maybe some of this will soak in. You need to get with the program, babe...You can't afford to be such a simp. The key to winning friends, having a good time all the time, and looking absolutely ravishing is to at all times keep in mind; What's out...is...In.
Like I already told you, our lives are like, sorta identical, although I would never lower myself to beg for cash. I suppose swapping fallacio for drugs would be considered less socially
acceptable, if one were to play the morality card. I'm sure that sort of thing was considered common practice when the barter system was still used. I was really into crystal meth for a while, but for some reason nowadays I can't seem to get enough of Stacking 2.3...the worlds strongest brain cell burner. (holds bottle of pills, who knows where they came from, up to the camera and winks) And for the zillionth time, I remind the world that I was WAR champion. I pinned
Maelstrom. I was a famous insane person. I was feared and respected and loved and hated and all that I could be. And Then I was nothing. Overnight. So like, actually, if anyone can relate to your endless melodramatic self absorbed pi$$ing, I can. That doesn't mean I
respect you for having endured some of the things I have or even take you seriously. I'm sensing that what you think of as the grizzly, gloomy, third act of your Behind the Music special, I equate with, y'know, like, the reality of daily life. Blown opportunities, random sex, drinking binges, vomiting on cop cars, STDS, cutting out the bottoms of my pockets so I can masturbate in public, shop lifting, statutory rape, Skipping court ordered NA AA CA and SA meetings, coke
binges, thinking I can see my own thoughts after no sleep or food for a week, my picture on the sex offender channel, fixing midget boxing matches, fake IOUs, forging other people's signature on stuff, eating veal, lying to juries, ticket scalping, stealing umbrellas, strange blue liquid draining from my ear, the exquisite humiliation of going to the emergency room to beg them to remove a rodent from my bum. These things that you barely survived I thrive on. So don't make an ass of yourself by thinking you know about me, Rageums. Nobody ever knows anybody. You are never gonna know me. Prolly you'll never know anything at all...
You think I'm talking garbage and playing head games. Maybe you're right. In which case, it'd be awful stupid to go and get all hot and bothered knowing that was my plan all along. Yet there you are. All hot and bothered. Right where I want you. hmmmm...(licks lips) Try not to blow your load quite yet. It gets worse. I'm actually not bullshitting you. I mean everything I say and because,
like I said, I understand your angst and your quest to reclaim all that lost glory, I'm in a unique position to comment on your condition. The parts of myself I see in you make me more than a little uncomfortable. Probably you feel the same way about me, for a different set of reasons. We both got over by ridding the coat tails of something trendy. DXXX in your case. For me it was Marilyn Manson inspired goth monsterdom and sadomasochistic hardcore matches, and oh yeah, homophobia, but then that NEVER seems to loose it's audience appeal for some reason. Neither of us were talented enough to have any staying power once we went out of style. We were both frauds,
Rageepoo. But I changed. I smartened up. I'm a REALITY TV star now. As long as people are stupid and actors want to be paid, Reality TV's not going anywhere. You're still spouting tired buzzwords and clichés like it's 1998. You smash a bottle of pills and I'm supposed to soil myself with terror? Why not just do a crotch chop 'n tell me to suck it? Maybe then I'll believe you could cripple me, nevermind actually intend to try. Of course I'm a disgrace to wrestling. So are you. The difference between us is I know I'm a disgrace and embrace that...You will turn purple with indignation at my suggestion that you're a
disgrace as soon as you watch this tape...It's your pride, Rage of snuggles. That's what revolts me about you. I don't need to maintain any delusions about who I am. You on the other hand, in spite of all the junk we undeniably have in common, will throw a hissy fit at the accusation that you're anything like me. You want to believe you're better than me just like the rest of these elitist a$$holes, but at least some of them actually did get where they are with genuine hard work 'n talent 'n junk...Which basically makes them kinda stupid and or not lucky enough to get over the way we did...
And you're the one who gets to be angry. You're the one who's going to mess me up...(shakes his head,and grins mischievously) Not on my watch, motherf(Bleep)r. The people you call fans like you cuz you're stupid and angry like they are. They didn't wanna handle a, y'know, real person like me. You don't ever wanna visit your dark
place again, muffin? Screw you! I AM THE DARKPLACE...I'm everything about yourself you've been denying. I'm the dark underbelly of professional wrestling. I'm every doe eyed 18 year old kid with a dream of being a super hero for a living who comes out the other end with two ex-wives, kids who wont talk to him, and a nasty painkiller
habit. I'm a piledriver gone horribly wrong at a BYW show. I'm the kid who got punched out when he asked Maelstrom why signed his autograph book with the name "Nevada Smith." And I will not be ignored by sentimental grundle licks like you any longer.
Except of course, I'm completely full of sh1t and really don't care about any of those people. But hey baby, I'm in it for fun and games. I don't care who gets hurt. Even if it's me, "which it most likely will be," but especially not if it's Rage of Fire, "which it absolutely will be." I guess what I'm really trying to communicate here, is that when I feed Rage his own face, I'll be giggling and stroking myself not because I'm an evil psychopath, but because
I stand for something. Maybe not honestly and certainly nothing along the lines of good or evil. Really, I don't even stand for cynicism. See...I don't wanna live forever. It's the last thing I'll ask. I just wanna live fast...
Y'see kids, even after all this time, "Rage of Fire" Jarred Wells still sucks....(his original cigarette long gone, he pulls another one out of thin air, lights it, and sits back for a second...).....Oops....(chuckles warmly) I did it again. I went and lied to you once more. I AM an evil psychopath.
BarryClarkJr
DADDY
Victim of Fun...
(Camera opens up to a dark street and all you see is JARED WELLS wearing tan khakis shorts, blue nautica shirt, and tan sandals. He is looking around with no fear, kicking empty beer cans, looking around with his hands in his pockets)
RAGE 'o FIRE: So your human after all EM-GEE-DUBBUA. For once you set aside the REALITY life and actually made some sense. I praise your for it, but it still won't help you dude. REALITY is the big word of the night boys and girls. REALITY is what people tend to soak on and fein more and more of it. It's almost like a drug addiction but not as bad. People tune in and watch people make complete idiots out of themselves. For example M-W-G, the REALITY SHOW QUEEN.....or KING? Whatever you want dude. At RIP-TIDE you will see a REALITY CHECK.
Pain, blood, sweat, tears, and all of the above. The beauty of it is that I'll do it for free. REALITY TV is hot right now, but I'm about change all that. Once I get everybody to tune into RIP-TIDE, the ORIGINAL PEOPLE'S CHAMPION against REALITY SHOW MAN, a new era of REALITY will happen. All of the sudden GLCW ratings go up because of RAGE-TV. And your host truly yours, J-W 'Rage 'o Fire'. And RAGE-TV won't edit out all the bad stuff because it's 100% REAL! Smashing a chair over your face won't be edited. Nor will the RAGE-BOMB be cut out because it's REAL! Last, the blood dripping from your face will for sure get a close up because RAGE-TV is REAL BABY!
To take a line from a song, "What you thought was REAL in life, somehow steers you wrong, and now you just keep drivin' and tryin' where you belong, I know you feel helpless" And for the ending credits; YOUR WINNER....JARED WELLS. The end and enough said. What are you thinking right now M-W-G? Seriously? What is going through that brain of yours? FEAR? SCARED? What?
Let me tell you something, your gonna see a side of me that you've never seen. So bad, it might even make you cry. But it's cool man, I've asked all my people to relax and enjoy because what's left I'm throwing the leftovers out to them. They'll eat your ass alive man. Maybe your right, maybe I babble about the past too much. Maybe I'm old news dude?!
You say what's out is in....I say what's OLD is NEW dude! 'RAGE 'o FIRE' was created by the people, and it stands for the people. I stand for the people because they watch my back. In today's world it's O.K. to F up once and awhile. Nobody is PERFECT man. NOBODY! That's why me and my fans are tight dude! They forgive my sins, and I've shown them that I stand for my words and actions. There are times where I call my fans "THE PEOPLE OF THE SUN". They keep me burnin' in the GLCW. It's almost like giving a vampire some blood.
I'll admit man, my career hit ROCK BOTTOM awhile ago but it's time to do something about it. You've got to give yourself time. TIME will tell man.
Your right about one thing man, I don't know you, nor do I want to know you. But the nice guy that I am, your gonna know who JARED WELLS is. Maybe we are kinda the same? Our dreams, our desires shot to hell. But why? Was it us? It's easy to sit there and point the finger at somebody but that's not the cause. Instead of blaming who, what, and where. Instead of sitting there like some log and let the parade go by, I'm gonna do something about it.
You claim "TO BE THE DARK PLACE?" (...laughs) Well I guess I'm going back to my old roots just to wipe you out! For old times M-W-G, go ahead, put down the STACKING 2.3 and take that dark pill called "E" then put on some creepy techno music. That's what it's gonna be like at RIP-TIDE.
Psychopath? Who, you are? (...laughs) You have no clue pal....no clue what so ever. Honestly, who are you tryin' to fool M-W-G? What's funny is that you think your winning in MIND GAMES but the 'REALITY' is your not. The PATH OF RAGE will continue, and you will be stopped once and for all. 'Ol RAGE can play games too. You say JARED WELLS still sucks? (...Wells almost snaps but collects his thoughts and smiles) You'll find out who really sucks.
RIP-TIDE baby, be there. No excuses, no crying in the GLCW. Buzzwords from 1998? Well,
...TIME HAS COME TO RAGE...
(...close up to Wells face turning angry red)
Don't EVER..............forget it.........it's REALITY, and then your LIFE!
(...FADEOUT)
(Camera opens up to a dark street and all you see is JARED WELLS wearing tan khakis shorts, blue nautica shirt, and tan sandals. He is looking around with no fear, kicking empty beer cans, looking around with his hands in his pockets)
RAGE 'o FIRE: So your human after all EM-GEE-DUBBUA. For once you set aside the REALITY life and actually made some sense. I praise your for it, but it still won't help you dude. REALITY is the big word of the night boys and girls. REALITY is what people tend to soak on and fein more and more of it. It's almost like a drug addiction but not as bad. People tune in and watch people make complete idiots out of themselves. For example M-W-G, the REALITY SHOW QUEEN.....or KING? Whatever you want dude. At RIP-TIDE you will see a REALITY CHECK.
Pain, blood, sweat, tears, and all of the above. The beauty of it is that I'll do it for free. REALITY TV is hot right now, but I'm about change all that. Once I get everybody to tune into RIP-TIDE, the ORIGINAL PEOPLE'S CHAMPION against REALITY SHOW MAN, a new era of REALITY will happen. All of the sudden GLCW ratings go up because of RAGE-TV. And your host truly yours, J-W 'Rage 'o Fire'. And RAGE-TV won't edit out all the bad stuff because it's 100% REAL! Smashing a chair over your face won't be edited. Nor will the RAGE-BOMB be cut out because it's REAL! Last, the blood dripping from your face will for sure get a close up because RAGE-TV is REAL BABY!
To take a line from a song, "What you thought was REAL in life, somehow steers you wrong, and now you just keep drivin' and tryin' where you belong, I know you feel helpless" And for the ending credits; YOUR WINNER....JARED WELLS. The end and enough said. What are you thinking right now M-W-G? Seriously? What is going through that brain of yours? FEAR? SCARED? What?
Let me tell you something, your gonna see a side of me that you've never seen. So bad, it might even make you cry. But it's cool man, I've asked all my people to relax and enjoy because what's left I'm throwing the leftovers out to them. They'll eat your ass alive man. Maybe your right, maybe I babble about the past too much. Maybe I'm old news dude?!
You say what's out is in....I say what's OLD is NEW dude! 'RAGE 'o FIRE' was created by the people, and it stands for the people. I stand for the people because they watch my back. In today's world it's O.K. to F up once and awhile. Nobody is PERFECT man. NOBODY! That's why me and my fans are tight dude! They forgive my sins, and I've shown them that I stand for my words and actions. There are times where I call my fans "THE PEOPLE OF THE SUN". They keep me burnin' in the GLCW. It's almost like giving a vampire some blood.
I'll admit man, my career hit ROCK BOTTOM awhile ago but it's time to do something about it. You've got to give yourself time. TIME will tell man.
Your right about one thing man, I don't know you, nor do I want to know you. But the nice guy that I am, your gonna know who JARED WELLS is. Maybe we are kinda the same? Our dreams, our desires shot to hell. But why? Was it us? It's easy to sit there and point the finger at somebody but that's not the cause. Instead of blaming who, what, and where. Instead of sitting there like some log and let the parade go by, I'm gonna do something about it.
You claim "TO BE THE DARK PLACE?" (...laughs) Well I guess I'm going back to my old roots just to wipe you out! For old times M-W-G, go ahead, put down the STACKING 2.3 and take that dark pill called "E" then put on some creepy techno music. That's what it's gonna be like at RIP-TIDE.
Psychopath? Who, you are? (...laughs) You have no clue pal....no clue what so ever. Honestly, who are you tryin' to fool M-W-G? What's funny is that you think your winning in MIND GAMES but the 'REALITY' is your not. The PATH OF RAGE will continue, and you will be stopped once and for all. 'Ol RAGE can play games too. You say JARED WELLS still sucks? (...Wells almost snaps but collects his thoughts and smiles) You'll find out who really sucks.
RIP-TIDE baby, be there. No excuses, no crying in the GLCW. Buzzwords from 1998? Well,
...TIME HAS COME TO RAGE...
(...close up to Wells face turning angry red)
Don't EVER..............forget it.........it's REALITY, and then your LIFE!
(...FADEOUT)
NotorisSTD
League Member
spacing out....
(CUEUP: "5 and a half minute hallway" by Poe...)
(Another sunny day at the puppy ranch, MwG sits spread eagle playing with several puppy dogs who jump up and bark and all that sort of thing. MWG's in a real tight cutoff "Sealab 2021" T-shirt and a long purple skirt/kilt...)
EM DUBYA GEE: Uh, hi. I thought, maybe instead of talking about my upcoming match and where my career's headed and all that sort of thing, I'd just frolic with fuzzy widdle woodland creatures for 6 or 7 minutes. Observe. (picks up and hugs a puppy) Aw, wooos a snuggly widdle buddy? Wooo a widdle puppy guy? Yesums.
OFF CAMERA VOICE: Did someone say puppies?!?!?!
(An elvis impersonator wearing a crown and fluffy cape gallops into the shot...)
KING: I've got a treat in my pocket I'd like to stick between a pair of puppies, if ya know what I mean...hee hee hee.
MWG: Dood!!! SICK!!!
KING: huh?
MWG: um...guh-iee? Like, Baby dogs?...
KING: (looks around) Oh...OH GOD!! Oh, sorry man. I assumed "puppies" was a metaphor for bre-
MWG: Well it's not you twisted sick a$$hole...
KING: I mean I've never even considered beastiality. I hate animals! I LOVE WOMEN!! (chuckles) Wowee, this reminds me of one time me and Andy Kauffman were at this whore house in Atlantic City, and he said--
MWG: Your wife left you.
KING: Ah---um...(hangs head in shame, and slowly walks away, MWG stares a hole through the kings back all the while....)
MWG: Wheff. thank goodness that guy's gone...(sits blankly staring off into space...lights a cigarette) Damn. the mood for frolicking has left me completely. Elvis impersonators are like, walking buzzkills...(sighs, stands, puppies continue to jump up on his leg...) S'like...ummm, s'long as I got a camera crew 'n everything...like, hey Rageums? meybe you should quit yammering on about reality. Y'know, like, Just because I'm exploiting a pop culture fad doesn't make me an idiot. Reality television is such an oxymoron. One could justify that bile by pointing out that a lot of people are phonies even when they're not being filmed, but this isn't
exactly the forum for half cocked social philosophy, is it? No, we're here to talk about sports entertainment! Watching people hurt each other for money makes a lot more sense than watching people who'd be making fools of themselves anyway make fools of themselves on TV. Well, act-ually, I'm being a little sarcastic and it makes
about the same level of sense, hee hee hee, being very little, which is more than anyone can say for your prediction that
you're going to smack me around like one of those escorts you're always so shocked to find have penis's. So poo on you,
Rage o' Fluffer....
I mean, you people are all just horrible listeners. Just look at Jarred Justice. He accused me of being afraid of what he was going to do to me, and look what happened to him. The useless prick was flaccid and ready for a nap in well under 10 minutes. Totally, Insert viagra joke here. Now you have the audacity to ask me if I'm
scared. It isn't a coincidence that you and Justice are both notoriously stupid. You don't have the balls to shoot me in the kneecaps, and I almost cut my dick off all by myself, so if you're setting out to strike fear into the cockles of my heart your options are pretty fudging limited. The Reality...hee hee, is that the worst
you could ever possibly do to me is knock me out and pin me, and ch'know, I've been knocked out and pinned before. Honestly I've had a lot worse. S'to answer you question Rage of F(bleep)er, no I'm not afraid of you. At all. You go right ahead and turn from a fan friendly teddy bear into a sadistic hate crazed predator. I'm
a sadomasochist, you goon. I shove whisky bottles up my ass to start conversation at parties. I don't wanna fight you for 15 minutes and beat you with a hot shot. I wanna shove my boot up your nose while you say junk that's garbled by your own teeth. I wanna masturbate in an inflatable pool full of your entrails, gizzwad. I wanna bleed. I wanna feel something besides apathy and disgust for a while. Good Rage isn't up to the task,but maybe evil Rage has some stamina....See, it's like you said about preferring a fight to a wrestling match. I want you all tattooed. I want you bad. completely mistreat me. I want you bad. complicated. X-Rated. I want you bad,
bad, bad, bad, BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD...(licks lips, then shoves his hand down his skirt to adjust something.)
Maybe if I was your friend er something I'd think it was super duper that you're on such good terms with your "fans." Since I'm not, I don't care. Popularity isn't as important as notoriety, and I'm a lot
more famous than you. Sadam Hussein gets way higher ratings than some guy who returned a lost kitten to it's owners, but I've been over this already...
You mentioned something about how Riptide's going to be like, more or less like a rave? Which was weird, so lemme make sure I follow you...You're saying at riptide, either I'll sit around waiting for something to happen for four hours, and when nothing does I'll make an angry phone call...OR I'll spend 6 hours or so happy to the point of being veeeerrrry irritating to anyone not as happy as I am, I'll get really cuddly with some people I hardly know, I'll have a brief but potent nervous breakdown aaaand ah....then I'll take some herbal mood balancers in the morning? I disagree. I think Riptide's going to me more like a wiener being stuck in a hollowed out eye socket.
As in, your brain becoming my own personal cumsponge...
Maybe I'm not winning any mind games. Maybe I'm not playing any, and I'm telling the truth. Then what are you supposed to do Captain? What's plan B? Haven’t thought that far ahead? Got nawthin’? Good and screwed? Gonna die? Gonna disappear…here? Guess prolly maybe absolutely, huh pretty?
PUPPY: 'gots that right, homes...MWG is a pimp, and Rage of Urine’s the b1tch…
MWG: Oh mi god, a talking puppy dog!!
PUPPY: Well yeah, but seeing as how you haven't slept or eaten anything but Stacking 2.3 for 6 days,
I wouldn't notify the press...
MWG: wow....
PUPPY: hey look, that Elvis impersonator guy got depressed and hung himself from that tree over there...
(shot spins around to to the tree, Elvis impersonator swing swing swining...)
MWG: Keen gear. Lets roll his body up in a carpet and throw it onto the freeway....
(CUEUP: "I will die screaming" by AFI...)
(CUTTO: Shot of Elvis corpse wrapped in an old carpet being tossed off a bridge, making a "splunk" sound on the pavement,
and being repeatedly run over by assorted types of cars, each traveling at least 70 MPH...all of which bounce around
like crazy when they hit the friggin' thing...)
BOSTWICK V/O: In case anybody’s lawyers are watching, MWG actually doesn’t wish any harm at all to come to the dood the elvis impersonator he thinks he saw was mocking. In fact, there wasn’t an elvis impersonator at all. In fact, you weren’t watching TV this afternoon. You were at the mall eating orange chicken, contemplating weather or not to buy the latest release from your favorite artist, then view a major motion picture while enjoying a large bucket of popcorn….
(CUEUP: "5 and a half minute hallway" by Poe...)
(Another sunny day at the puppy ranch, MwG sits spread eagle playing with several puppy dogs who jump up and bark and all that sort of thing. MWG's in a real tight cutoff "Sealab 2021" T-shirt and a long purple skirt/kilt...)
EM DUBYA GEE: Uh, hi. I thought, maybe instead of talking about my upcoming match and where my career's headed and all that sort of thing, I'd just frolic with fuzzy widdle woodland creatures for 6 or 7 minutes. Observe. (picks up and hugs a puppy) Aw, wooos a snuggly widdle buddy? Wooo a widdle puppy guy? Yesums.
OFF CAMERA VOICE: Did someone say puppies?!?!?!
(An elvis impersonator wearing a crown and fluffy cape gallops into the shot...)
KING: I've got a treat in my pocket I'd like to stick between a pair of puppies, if ya know what I mean...hee hee hee.
MWG: Dood!!! SICK!!!
KING: huh?
MWG: um...guh-iee? Like, Baby dogs?...
KING: (looks around) Oh...OH GOD!! Oh, sorry man. I assumed "puppies" was a metaphor for bre-
MWG: Well it's not you twisted sick a$$hole...
KING: I mean I've never even considered beastiality. I hate animals! I LOVE WOMEN!! (chuckles) Wowee, this reminds me of one time me and Andy Kauffman were at this whore house in Atlantic City, and he said--
MWG: Your wife left you.
KING: Ah---um...(hangs head in shame, and slowly walks away, MWG stares a hole through the kings back all the while....)
MWG: Wheff. thank goodness that guy's gone...(sits blankly staring off into space...lights a cigarette) Damn. the mood for frolicking has left me completely. Elvis impersonators are like, walking buzzkills...(sighs, stands, puppies continue to jump up on his leg...) S'like...ummm, s'long as I got a camera crew 'n everything...like, hey Rageums? meybe you should quit yammering on about reality. Y'know, like, Just because I'm exploiting a pop culture fad doesn't make me an idiot. Reality television is such an oxymoron. One could justify that bile by pointing out that a lot of people are phonies even when they're not being filmed, but this isn't
exactly the forum for half cocked social philosophy, is it? No, we're here to talk about sports entertainment! Watching people hurt each other for money makes a lot more sense than watching people who'd be making fools of themselves anyway make fools of themselves on TV. Well, act-ually, I'm being a little sarcastic and it makes
about the same level of sense, hee hee hee, being very little, which is more than anyone can say for your prediction that
you're going to smack me around like one of those escorts you're always so shocked to find have penis's. So poo on you,
Rage o' Fluffer....
I mean, you people are all just horrible listeners. Just look at Jarred Justice. He accused me of being afraid of what he was going to do to me, and look what happened to him. The useless prick was flaccid and ready for a nap in well under 10 minutes. Totally, Insert viagra joke here. Now you have the audacity to ask me if I'm
scared. It isn't a coincidence that you and Justice are both notoriously stupid. You don't have the balls to shoot me in the kneecaps, and I almost cut my dick off all by myself, so if you're setting out to strike fear into the cockles of my heart your options are pretty fudging limited. The Reality...hee hee, is that the worst
you could ever possibly do to me is knock me out and pin me, and ch'know, I've been knocked out and pinned before. Honestly I've had a lot worse. S'to answer you question Rage of F(bleep)er, no I'm not afraid of you. At all. You go right ahead and turn from a fan friendly teddy bear into a sadistic hate crazed predator. I'm
a sadomasochist, you goon. I shove whisky bottles up my ass to start conversation at parties. I don't wanna fight you for 15 minutes and beat you with a hot shot. I wanna shove my boot up your nose while you say junk that's garbled by your own teeth. I wanna masturbate in an inflatable pool full of your entrails, gizzwad. I wanna bleed. I wanna feel something besides apathy and disgust for a while. Good Rage isn't up to the task,but maybe evil Rage has some stamina....See, it's like you said about preferring a fight to a wrestling match. I want you all tattooed. I want you bad. completely mistreat me. I want you bad. complicated. X-Rated. I want you bad,
bad, bad, bad, BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD...(licks lips, then shoves his hand down his skirt to adjust something.)
Maybe if I was your friend er something I'd think it was super duper that you're on such good terms with your "fans." Since I'm not, I don't care. Popularity isn't as important as notoriety, and I'm a lot
more famous than you. Sadam Hussein gets way higher ratings than some guy who returned a lost kitten to it's owners, but I've been over this already...
You mentioned something about how Riptide's going to be like, more or less like a rave? Which was weird, so lemme make sure I follow you...You're saying at riptide, either I'll sit around waiting for something to happen for four hours, and when nothing does I'll make an angry phone call...OR I'll spend 6 hours or so happy to the point of being veeeerrrry irritating to anyone not as happy as I am, I'll get really cuddly with some people I hardly know, I'll have a brief but potent nervous breakdown aaaand ah....then I'll take some herbal mood balancers in the morning? I disagree. I think Riptide's going to me more like a wiener being stuck in a hollowed out eye socket.
As in, your brain becoming my own personal cumsponge...
Maybe I'm not winning any mind games. Maybe I'm not playing any, and I'm telling the truth. Then what are you supposed to do Captain? What's plan B? Haven’t thought that far ahead? Got nawthin’? Good and screwed? Gonna die? Gonna disappear…here? Guess prolly maybe absolutely, huh pretty?
PUPPY: 'gots that right, homes...MWG is a pimp, and Rage of Urine’s the b1tch…
MWG: Oh mi god, a talking puppy dog!!
PUPPY: Well yeah, but seeing as how you haven't slept or eaten anything but Stacking 2.3 for 6 days,
I wouldn't notify the press...
MWG: wow....
PUPPY: hey look, that Elvis impersonator guy got depressed and hung himself from that tree over there...
(shot spins around to to the tree, Elvis impersonator swing swing swining...)
MWG: Keen gear. Lets roll his body up in a carpet and throw it onto the freeway....
(CUEUP: "I will die screaming" by AFI...)
(CUTTO: Shot of Elvis corpse wrapped in an old carpet being tossed off a bridge, making a "splunk" sound on the pavement,
and being repeatedly run over by assorted types of cars, each traveling at least 70 MPH...all of which bounce around
like crazy when they hit the friggin' thing...)
BOSTWICK V/O: In case anybody’s lawyers are watching, MWG actually doesn’t wish any harm at all to come to the dood the elvis impersonator he thinks he saw was mocking. In fact, there wasn’t an elvis impersonator at all. In fact, you weren’t watching TV this afternoon. You were at the mall eating orange chicken, contemplating weather or not to buy the latest release from your favorite artist, then view a major motion picture while enjoying a large bucket of popcorn….