(OOC Note: I didn't mean to post this so close to the deadline, but I got caught up in things... won't happen again, I promise)
"Wow, you sure do talk funny."
Cowboy Jimmy in front of a UCW backdrop.
CJD: So yer the great Shawn Jessica Hart. Funny, folks wit' names like the one in the middle are usually ones givin' my pole a good hand waxin' at the Bunny Ranch if'n ya know what I mean. I bet from the looks a' ya, boy, you ain't no stranger t'waxin' a few a' yer own poles. I seen ya walkin' 'round backstage, an' the only folks I done ever seen walk as bow-legged as that were either cowboys or fairies, or maybe both. I heard about Brokeback Mountain. Dang near sends me into a state a' convulsion erry time I hear them words put together. But anyways, I done reckon that ya ain't no cowboy, so I'll leave ya t'that. I mean, there ain't nothin' wrong wit' that an' all, in fact, I could probably refer ya to some nice homo brothels in secluded parts a' Nevada if'n ya know what I mean.
But I ain't here t'be nice an' all, cuz Shawn, you ain't seemin' like a nice guy yerself. Ya seem like one a' them pompous jackasses, y'know, the ones who come up from Dallas on business wearin' their white suits an' bola ties an' ten gallon hats who thinks they done own Oklahoma cuz he's JR Ewing and we're all a bunch a' hicks. Th' kind who always get a piece a' their dongs bit off whenever they talk down t'one of Tulsa's finest streetwalkin' sassies. My favorite down there, Selma, she done always tells me stories, an' the best part is, they cain't do nothin' 'bout it 'cuz then they done get in trouble fer puttin' their ding-dong in a woman fer cash.
Now, does that mean I'mma gon bite a bit a' yer cock off? Well, naw, I don't swing that way Shawn, but that don't mean that you ain't gonna get somethin' you cain't do nothin' 'bout now. This week, on the fancy Reverolution show, yer gon' get the beatin' a' yer lifetime cuz you thinkin' that cuz I ain't that fancy Princeton livin' guy that I don't mean much more than a pile a steer crap. You want that Marx feller, but yer stuck wit' me. An' now, yer stuck wit' gettin' yer head kicked in by an onery Oklahoma cowboy who's pissed as hell that he done got gipped out a' that fancy UNIFIED Championship.
Ya may not be too thrilled t'be in the ring wit' me, but pardner, lemme tell ya. When I'm done wit' ya, yer gon' be wishin' a whore was bitin' off the tip a' yer jimmy rather than what I'mma gon' do t'ya.
Fade