Mr Main Event
League Member
For the Television title! Go!
Smallz vs. Gant
- Thread starter Mr Main Event
- Start date
(FADEIN to the closing moments of Onslaught, the main event match between Christian Sands and the GXW Television champion Boogie Smallz.)
GV: Step-over toehold facelock by Sands! Smallz may be in trouble here!
BS: I can't believe this is happening!
Smallz struggles to make it to the ropes, but Sands breaks the hold long enough to drag Smallz to the middle of the ring and re-apply it. Smallz makes it to the ropes again and the referee forces a break. Sands tries to maintain the offense, but Smallz nails him with a roaring elbow. He then executes a head-and-arm suplex, sending Sands across the ring. Smallz then slumps in a corner, waiting for Sands to stand up. After a few moments, Sands pulls himself up and Smallz crosses the ring in strides and goes for a superkick, but Sands ducks it. Smallz deftly spins around though and unleashes a picture-perfect running knee lift to Sands' jaw. Smallz drops on top of him and hooks the leg but only gets 2 and half before Sands gets a foot on the rope.
BS: Sands's not going down without a fight by God!
GV: What the hell is this guy made of?!
Smallz pounds the mat in frustration and then pulls Sands up into a standing head scissors. Sands backdrops his way free, but Smallz lands on his feet, runs to the ropes, and comes back with a flying forearm that rocks Sands. Smallz quickly executes his Power Bong maneuver, drops on top of the challenger, and gets a hard-earned 3-count.
GV: It's over!
(The match ends with Boogie lighting up a blunt in the ring, the image becomes still and the camera zooms out to reveal Boogie watching the tape of his victory. He is wearing a light blue Fubu velour jogging suit, his hair is unbraided and “froed” out. He has the TV title on the couch next to him, as he grabs a bong off of the table in front of him and smokes up. He takes in as much smoke as he can, holds it in for a few seconds and then releases it into the air. He coughs a little, takes a drink of water, and unpauses the match he was watching.)
BS: Sands put up quite a fight, but Boogie Smallz retains his Television title!
GV: But how will he fare against Ricky Gant?
BS: There's only one way to find out the answer to that! Tune in to Fallout live on pay-per-view! Good night from Madison Square Garden!
(Boogie takes another hit from the bong, puts it down, and lets out another huge cloud of smoke, before he begins to speak.)
BOOGIE SMALLZ: Some people think they are so hot, they think they are on fire…yet when they step up against me…I extinguish the flame. There once was a busta’ named Christian Sands who talked a gang of ish…but didn’t back up a damn bit of it! Sands, were my first defense…I will always treasure tha ass-whippin’ I gave you. (Smiles) But seriously, that’s just a glimpse of what is to come to all tha crackas out there that try to step to Boogeezey.
When I first got herre, I thought they might put me on their last pay per view, but it didn’t pan out. I was signed to GXW, but they wouldn’t let their next big thing on tha show ‘cuz they wanted to have proper build up? What tha kcuf is that? (Shakes his head.) And so now that I am a household name and my stock is steadily rising in GXW, they decide to showcase my talents for tha world to see…or at least on a GX-Dub level, ‘cuz this ain’t my first pay per view show, and have me defend my newly won Television title against a guy that won a battle royal. First of all, I didn’t win some gimmicky match to get my title shot…I earned it by actually beating people! Ricky Gant…tha only chance you had to get a title match was to throw some mofos out of a ring, because errybody knows you sure as hell couldn’t pin any of them!
(Boogie takes another hit off his bong and marinates in the smoke for a moment.)
Thinkin’ about it, I’m just glad that I’m gonna have the chance to beat yo’ punk ass in my hometown in front of my peeps. Damn…you’re from NYC too, right? (Smirks.) Maybe you should cancel your request for tickets, dawg, you know…tha ones you requested in hopes that Mama Gant might come to MSG and see her son in the biggest match of his career. Because if you want your mom to witness her son gettin’ beat down and all bloodied up, worse than what they did to Pesci in Goodfellas, you may just want to reconsider your request. Mama or not…I don’t give a kcuf who ya got there to back you up…I ain’t holdin’ back. I had to fight and struggle to get this far in my career, to become a singles champion, and I ain’t about to let some snowflake futhamucka take that ish away from me! You wanna rant about sumthin’, you Dennis Miller punk wannabe, well after Fallout it ain’t gonna be possible. One…I’m walkin’ out with tha title. Two…you ain’t gonna have ish to say…because Three…a futhamucka can’t say ish when he’s has a GOT DAMN broken jaw! Think about it…but most importantly…BELIEVE ‘DAT!
(FADE TO BLACK as a commercial airs for…Roos…shoes for your feet, pockets for your stuff. Roos.)
GV: Step-over toehold facelock by Sands! Smallz may be in trouble here!
BS: I can't believe this is happening!
Smallz struggles to make it to the ropes, but Sands breaks the hold long enough to drag Smallz to the middle of the ring and re-apply it. Smallz makes it to the ropes again and the referee forces a break. Sands tries to maintain the offense, but Smallz nails him with a roaring elbow. He then executes a head-and-arm suplex, sending Sands across the ring. Smallz then slumps in a corner, waiting for Sands to stand up. After a few moments, Sands pulls himself up and Smallz crosses the ring in strides and goes for a superkick, but Sands ducks it. Smallz deftly spins around though and unleashes a picture-perfect running knee lift to Sands' jaw. Smallz drops on top of him and hooks the leg but only gets 2 and half before Sands gets a foot on the rope.
BS: Sands's not going down without a fight by God!
GV: What the hell is this guy made of?!
Smallz pounds the mat in frustration and then pulls Sands up into a standing head scissors. Sands backdrops his way free, but Smallz lands on his feet, runs to the ropes, and comes back with a flying forearm that rocks Sands. Smallz quickly executes his Power Bong maneuver, drops on top of the challenger, and gets a hard-earned 3-count.
GV: It's over!
(The match ends with Boogie lighting up a blunt in the ring, the image becomes still and the camera zooms out to reveal Boogie watching the tape of his victory. He is wearing a light blue Fubu velour jogging suit, his hair is unbraided and “froed” out. He has the TV title on the couch next to him, as he grabs a bong off of the table in front of him and smokes up. He takes in as much smoke as he can, holds it in for a few seconds and then releases it into the air. He coughs a little, takes a drink of water, and unpauses the match he was watching.)
BS: Sands put up quite a fight, but Boogie Smallz retains his Television title!
GV: But how will he fare against Ricky Gant?
BS: There's only one way to find out the answer to that! Tune in to Fallout live on pay-per-view! Good night from Madison Square Garden!
(Boogie takes another hit from the bong, puts it down, and lets out another huge cloud of smoke, before he begins to speak.)
BOOGIE SMALLZ: Some people think they are so hot, they think they are on fire…yet when they step up against me…I extinguish the flame. There once was a busta’ named Christian Sands who talked a gang of ish…but didn’t back up a damn bit of it! Sands, were my first defense…I will always treasure tha ass-whippin’ I gave you. (Smiles) But seriously, that’s just a glimpse of what is to come to all tha crackas out there that try to step to Boogeezey.
When I first got herre, I thought they might put me on their last pay per view, but it didn’t pan out. I was signed to GXW, but they wouldn’t let their next big thing on tha show ‘cuz they wanted to have proper build up? What tha kcuf is that? (Shakes his head.) And so now that I am a household name and my stock is steadily rising in GXW, they decide to showcase my talents for tha world to see…or at least on a GX-Dub level, ‘cuz this ain’t my first pay per view show, and have me defend my newly won Television title against a guy that won a battle royal. First of all, I didn’t win some gimmicky match to get my title shot…I earned it by actually beating people! Ricky Gant…tha only chance you had to get a title match was to throw some mofos out of a ring, because errybody knows you sure as hell couldn’t pin any of them!
(Boogie takes another hit off his bong and marinates in the smoke for a moment.)
Thinkin’ about it, I’m just glad that I’m gonna have the chance to beat yo’ punk ass in my hometown in front of my peeps. Damn…you’re from NYC too, right? (Smirks.) Maybe you should cancel your request for tickets, dawg, you know…tha ones you requested in hopes that Mama Gant might come to MSG and see her son in the biggest match of his career. Because if you want your mom to witness her son gettin’ beat down and all bloodied up, worse than what they did to Pesci in Goodfellas, you may just want to reconsider your request. Mama or not…I don’t give a kcuf who ya got there to back you up…I ain’t holdin’ back. I had to fight and struggle to get this far in my career, to become a singles champion, and I ain’t about to let some snowflake futhamucka take that ish away from me! You wanna rant about sumthin’, you Dennis Miller punk wannabe, well after Fallout it ain’t gonna be possible. One…I’m walkin’ out with tha title. Two…you ain’t gonna have ish to say…because Three…a futhamucka can’t say ish when he’s has a GOT DAMN broken jaw! Think about it…but most importantly…BELIEVE ‘DAT!
(FADE TO BLACK as a commercial airs for…Roos…shoes for your feet, pockets for your stuff. Roos.)
T
TheTruth
Guest
(The scene opens up to a blue backdrop with the GXW logo in the middle. A single man waering blue jeans and a black t-shirt is sort of pacing in front of the camera. He stops, and slowly turns to the camera.)
The Rant Ricky Gant: GXW. The Fallout Pay Per View. A chance at the prestigious Television championship. A title of huge magnifications, considering that the vast majority of Americans are glued to the idiot box 24/7. I’d like to say how honored that I am to step into the ring for that piece of tin, but I’d be knee deep in my own bullshit if I did. Whoopie I threw a few people out of the ring and now I get to be top contender for a second string title. Well slap my ass and call me Suzie. Then again, let me withdraw that statement, after looking around the GXW locker room, I think a few people may want to take that literally.
Although I can be grateful that I have an opponent who has the moral fiber to match the importance of the title which he shoulders. I mean let’s take a look at Boogie Smallz shall we. Nothing to really probe into on this character right. After all the guy is representing. Just take a look at him, he’s the real deal. No gimmick, just pure gangsta. Ain’t that right Boog? Your jive talking, fast walking, and ‘earth smoking’to the bone. It has nothing to do with the popularity of 420, gangsta rappers or any of that ‘shizznitz’. Ain’t that right?
Not like you had been hanging your hopes on a disco revival before finally breaking out with your ‘true self’. You wouldn’t be a sell out that would prance around in polyester trying to be the black Travolta? And you certainly wouldn’t lower yourself to having a whigger side kick that followed you around like a puppy dog. Oh wait, my bad. You did wear polyester, you did do disco. And you did have a whigger sidekick. I guess that’s a little better than throwing a midget into the mix to be your own little mini-me. Oh wait, my bad. Disco Midget. Almost forgot all about that.
So no really, I understand. You’re beyond that now. You are down with your true self now. It has nothing to do with it being the popular thing and getting over. I’m sorry that I even doubted you for a second (Gant does a ‘RVD’ self pointing and as he talks.) Boog. E. Smallz.
Now as for you being a New Yorker, I think you should step back and rethink that statement. See I happen to know that you are a southern hick who spent what Summer vacation once or twice with his big city aunt. Grow up in Louisiana your whole life, spend six months in the NYC and all of a sudden it’s your hometown and your people? Give it a rest. You’re a phony.
Ironically though, you claiming NYC when you barely stepped on it’s turf is fairly irrelevant. Because you are too stupid to even realize where the match is going to take place. You were in NYC when you cut that promo. You had just finished a match at MSG. Big bad New York kid like you doesn’t even know when he’s in the Garden? Man you think that you’d at least have looked at some postcards before running your mouth as a New Yorker.
See the pay per view will be in Greensboro, North Carolina. I’ve heard that it’s the third biggest city in the state. You should be very familiar with it. Isn’t it where you, the whigger and the midget wrapped your self in polyester and danced together to Abba? You know the place, I’m sure you do.
Maybe you should put down the props of your gimmick and grab yourself a big toke of reality, because you’ve just OD’ed on the Rant.
The Rant Ricky Gant: GXW. The Fallout Pay Per View. A chance at the prestigious Television championship. A title of huge magnifications, considering that the vast majority of Americans are glued to the idiot box 24/7. I’d like to say how honored that I am to step into the ring for that piece of tin, but I’d be knee deep in my own bullshit if I did. Whoopie I threw a few people out of the ring and now I get to be top contender for a second string title. Well slap my ass and call me Suzie. Then again, let me withdraw that statement, after looking around the GXW locker room, I think a few people may want to take that literally.
Although I can be grateful that I have an opponent who has the moral fiber to match the importance of the title which he shoulders. I mean let’s take a look at Boogie Smallz shall we. Nothing to really probe into on this character right. After all the guy is representing. Just take a look at him, he’s the real deal. No gimmick, just pure gangsta. Ain’t that right Boog? Your jive talking, fast walking, and ‘earth smoking’to the bone. It has nothing to do with the popularity of 420, gangsta rappers or any of that ‘shizznitz’. Ain’t that right?
Not like you had been hanging your hopes on a disco revival before finally breaking out with your ‘true self’. You wouldn’t be a sell out that would prance around in polyester trying to be the black Travolta? And you certainly wouldn’t lower yourself to having a whigger side kick that followed you around like a puppy dog. Oh wait, my bad. You did wear polyester, you did do disco. And you did have a whigger sidekick. I guess that’s a little better than throwing a midget into the mix to be your own little mini-me. Oh wait, my bad. Disco Midget. Almost forgot all about that.
So no really, I understand. You’re beyond that now. You are down with your true self now. It has nothing to do with it being the popular thing and getting over. I’m sorry that I even doubted you for a second (Gant does a ‘RVD’ self pointing and as he talks.) Boog. E. Smallz.
Now as for you being a New Yorker, I think you should step back and rethink that statement. See I happen to know that you are a southern hick who spent what Summer vacation once or twice with his big city aunt. Grow up in Louisiana your whole life, spend six months in the NYC and all of a sudden it’s your hometown and your people? Give it a rest. You’re a phony.
Ironically though, you claiming NYC when you barely stepped on it’s turf is fairly irrelevant. Because you are too stupid to even realize where the match is going to take place. You were in NYC when you cut that promo. You had just finished a match at MSG. Big bad New York kid like you doesn’t even know when he’s in the Garden? Man you think that you’d at least have looked at some postcards before running your mouth as a New Yorker.
See the pay per view will be in Greensboro, North Carolina. I’ve heard that it’s the third biggest city in the state. You should be very familiar with it. Isn’t it where you, the whigger and the midget wrapped your self in polyester and danced together to Abba? You know the place, I’m sure you do.
Maybe you should put down the props of your gimmick and grab yourself a big toke of reality, because you’ve just OD’ed on the Rant.
(OORP: Damn, I could have sworn I read it was at MSG on something. Guess I should double-check next time.)
(FADE IN to Boogie Smallz sitting on a stool in a dark room, with only a single light illuminating over his head. The air is thick with smoke, but oddly no blunt to be seen in Boogie’s hands. His hair is ‘froed up and is wearing a HHE t-shirt and black jeans. He looks into the camera and begins to speak.)
BOOGIE SMALLZ: We got a guy herre that is tryin’ to call me out. He’s sittin’ therre attemptin’ to pull my hoe card. He went out and dug up all this dirt…doin’ his best to try and toss it all over my name. (Shakes his head.) But see…all that ish you brought up… tha disco days, tha midget manager, tha polyester…yeah man, you done found me out…it’s all true. Thing is…I ain’t never denied it. I was the Boogie Man, I was on a team called tha Disco Express, I was managed by a drunken midget…and ya know what? We were two-time tag team champions…soon to be three…YA HEARD!
Obviously you know what tha business is like. Let’s just say that black men and wrestling don’t mix, to call us a minority in tha game definitely wouldn’t be an understatement. When I started in tha indies, tha pay sucked and I was doin’ all I could to make ends meet. Then an agent for tha CSWA happened to be at one of my shows. He dug my steez, he saw tha potential that me and potna’ had, and he gave us a break. Damn dawg, we didn’t just double up…we bubbled up! Tha Disco Express blew tha kcuf up and we made a lot of money in tha process. Yeah, maybe I wasn’t diggin’ tha character, but it paid tha rent…it got me out of tha hood, and for that I can’t and won’t be ashamed of it! You throwin’ that shizz up in my face is just gonna piss me off and make me wanna beat yo’ ass down even more! (Mean mugs the camera.)
You don’t see me tryin’ to dig up dirt of you? Why? ‘Cuz I ain’t gotta resort to shizz like that. Errybody knows you ain't ish. You did a few jobs in tha CSWA and now you think you got what it takes to be a superstar herre, in GX-Dub? Maybe ya’ do. You obviously are capable of tossin’ folks over tha top rope, but whether you can actually pin someone…well that’s sort of up in tha air. And pinnin’ me and takin’ this TV title ain’t an option for ya’!
I ain’t no flava of tha week, no one-hit wonder, no fluke…I’m in heavy-rotation, I’m tha number one request, and I ain’t nowhere near reachin’ my all-time peak! Basically put, I’m the blunt-smokin’, hoe chokin’, leave their panties soakin’, not to be confused as tha token…black man. Tha man that erryone herre needs to recognize as tha only true champion in GXW. I ain’t wrestlin’ in no weak-ass mixed tag matches, hidin’ behind other people to defend my title. You won’t find me doin’ skits with Oompa Loompaz. Nah man, I’m tha best damn thing that has happened to this company…hell, I’m tha best thing that has happened to this business! All that CSWA talkin’ needs to just cease, this ain’t Greensboro, even though you so kindly pointed out to me that this match is taking place therre.
Am I capitalizing on 420? What tha kcuf is that? Sounds like somethin’ made up for crackas. I smoke erryday…all day. I don’t need a time, a date, a futhamuckin’ reason…I do it ‘cuz I can! I don’t jump on bandwagons…I’m a trendsetter. I’m a leader, not a follower. See, what I am to this place is a breath of fresh air. I’m sumthin’ new, sumthin’ different, instead of all these pumped up triscuits and quote unquote “cool heels” that have been runnin’ around this biz as long as I’ve been herre! I’m tha truth, tha answer, tha antidote, tha remedy…I’m what this business has been dyin’ for, I’m what tha people crave, and I ain’t gonna deny them of their “fix”. As for you, I’m hookin’ up a fat hit…100 kilos of pure…uncut…Boogie Smallz. I hope you can handle it and not end up like so many others…OD’ed, a chalk outline, covered in a white sheet. Yeah, you can say it won’t happen to you…or you can BELIEVE ‘DAT!
(FADE TO BLACK)
(FADE IN to Boogie Smallz sitting on a stool in a dark room, with only a single light illuminating over his head. The air is thick with smoke, but oddly no blunt to be seen in Boogie’s hands. His hair is ‘froed up and is wearing a HHE t-shirt and black jeans. He looks into the camera and begins to speak.)
BOOGIE SMALLZ: We got a guy herre that is tryin’ to call me out. He’s sittin’ therre attemptin’ to pull my hoe card. He went out and dug up all this dirt…doin’ his best to try and toss it all over my name. (Shakes his head.) But see…all that ish you brought up… tha disco days, tha midget manager, tha polyester…yeah man, you done found me out…it’s all true. Thing is…I ain’t never denied it. I was the Boogie Man, I was on a team called tha Disco Express, I was managed by a drunken midget…and ya know what? We were two-time tag team champions…soon to be three…YA HEARD!
Obviously you know what tha business is like. Let’s just say that black men and wrestling don’t mix, to call us a minority in tha game definitely wouldn’t be an understatement. When I started in tha indies, tha pay sucked and I was doin’ all I could to make ends meet. Then an agent for tha CSWA happened to be at one of my shows. He dug my steez, he saw tha potential that me and potna’ had, and he gave us a break. Damn dawg, we didn’t just double up…we bubbled up! Tha Disco Express blew tha kcuf up and we made a lot of money in tha process. Yeah, maybe I wasn’t diggin’ tha character, but it paid tha rent…it got me out of tha hood, and for that I can’t and won’t be ashamed of it! You throwin’ that shizz up in my face is just gonna piss me off and make me wanna beat yo’ ass down even more! (Mean mugs the camera.)
You don’t see me tryin’ to dig up dirt of you? Why? ‘Cuz I ain’t gotta resort to shizz like that. Errybody knows you ain't ish. You did a few jobs in tha CSWA and now you think you got what it takes to be a superstar herre, in GX-Dub? Maybe ya’ do. You obviously are capable of tossin’ folks over tha top rope, but whether you can actually pin someone…well that’s sort of up in tha air. And pinnin’ me and takin’ this TV title ain’t an option for ya’!
I ain’t no flava of tha week, no one-hit wonder, no fluke…I’m in heavy-rotation, I’m tha number one request, and I ain’t nowhere near reachin’ my all-time peak! Basically put, I’m the blunt-smokin’, hoe chokin’, leave their panties soakin’, not to be confused as tha token…black man. Tha man that erryone herre needs to recognize as tha only true champion in GXW. I ain’t wrestlin’ in no weak-ass mixed tag matches, hidin’ behind other people to defend my title. You won’t find me doin’ skits with Oompa Loompaz. Nah man, I’m tha best damn thing that has happened to this company…hell, I’m tha best thing that has happened to this business! All that CSWA talkin’ needs to just cease, this ain’t Greensboro, even though you so kindly pointed out to me that this match is taking place therre.
Am I capitalizing on 420? What tha kcuf is that? Sounds like somethin’ made up for crackas. I smoke erryday…all day. I don’t need a time, a date, a futhamuckin’ reason…I do it ‘cuz I can! I don’t jump on bandwagons…I’m a trendsetter. I’m a leader, not a follower. See, what I am to this place is a breath of fresh air. I’m sumthin’ new, sumthin’ different, instead of all these pumped up triscuits and quote unquote “cool heels” that have been runnin’ around this biz as long as I’ve been herre! I’m tha truth, tha answer, tha antidote, tha remedy…I’m what this business has been dyin’ for, I’m what tha people crave, and I ain’t gonna deny them of their “fix”. As for you, I’m hookin’ up a fat hit…100 kilos of pure…uncut…Boogie Smallz. I hope you can handle it and not end up like so many others…OD’ed, a chalk outline, covered in a white sheet. Yeah, you can say it won’t happen to you…or you can BELIEVE ‘DAT!
(FADE TO BLACK)
T
TheTruth
Guest
(OORP: You saw MSG at the card you were quoting from. That match was at the Garden.)
(The camera opens up to “The Rant” Ricky Gant walking the streets of New York in the middle of the night. He’s walking down 32nd street heading east, with the epic Madison Square Garden in the background. )
“The Rant” Ricky Gant: Well, well, well. I cut one promo. Just one. And all of a sudden the bong disappears, the cloud of smoke dissipates from the clouded head of Boogie Smallz and he goes into defensive mode about his entire professional history. I knew I had clout here, but I didn’t think that we’d see the revival of the polyester that fast. Did I do it to toss dirt all over your name? To disgrace you? Trust me nothing I could say or do to disgrace you could top your own actions and your self whoring for any gimmick that you think will help you get in the spotlight.
Not only do we get to see one of the sorriest gimmicks of the past years, but we also get to hear the woe is me, seek pity on me, history of the black man. Please forgive me if I don’t shed a tear and immediately call for the GXW to install affirmative action. If you had been a man you’d have stood up for yourself, you’d have made it on your own terms. Not been a sell out Uncle Tom, bending over and letting Merritt stick his hand where the boogie don’t shine, just so he could have his very own black Travolta hand puppet. Did it burn baby burn.
(Gant turns onto 5th Avenue and as the camera pans you can see he’s heading towards the Empire State Building.)
But oh wait, I forgot… you had to do it. You were the black man. Repressed in this world of plantation wrestling promotions. Boo-Hoo. I keep forgetting how white guys have never been saddled with a horrible gimmick, or worked for what basically amounted to dinner and travel money. Only the black man ever suffered to get ahead. Only the black man has ever felt he was being unfairly held down or not used to his full potential. I keep forgetting about this utopian society that us white guys have created for ourselves.
Now you are right, you haven’t tried to dig up any dirt on me. Truth be told, you obviously haven’t done much to find out about me. I guess if you did you wouldn’t have your rhetoric about the little battle royal match, so I do understand it. Perhaps you’ve put the blinders on to who I am and what I can do because you need to build up that confidence of yours.
Oh wait, that’s obviously not it. Because you’re in heavy rotation. Well so was Vanilla Ice. You two do have a lot in common though. You both want to be black.
(The Rant Ricky Gant stops at the Empire State building, the camera pans up to show how enormous the building truly is. The Gant steps inside the door, stops and looks back at the camera.)
I’m going to head up to the top, take some pictures of Manhattan for you and at least give you something to work on as you claim NYC. I’ll throw it in the mail with a map, and maybe some cheat sheets to help you be true to yourself, your peeps and your way of life. Play on, playa.
(Camera fades to black as Gant walks away from the camera, inside the Empire State Building.)
(The camera opens up to “The Rant” Ricky Gant walking the streets of New York in the middle of the night. He’s walking down 32nd street heading east, with the epic Madison Square Garden in the background. )
“The Rant” Ricky Gant: Well, well, well. I cut one promo. Just one. And all of a sudden the bong disappears, the cloud of smoke dissipates from the clouded head of Boogie Smallz and he goes into defensive mode about his entire professional history. I knew I had clout here, but I didn’t think that we’d see the revival of the polyester that fast. Did I do it to toss dirt all over your name? To disgrace you? Trust me nothing I could say or do to disgrace you could top your own actions and your self whoring for any gimmick that you think will help you get in the spotlight.
Not only do we get to see one of the sorriest gimmicks of the past years, but we also get to hear the woe is me, seek pity on me, history of the black man. Please forgive me if I don’t shed a tear and immediately call for the GXW to install affirmative action. If you had been a man you’d have stood up for yourself, you’d have made it on your own terms. Not been a sell out Uncle Tom, bending over and letting Merritt stick his hand where the boogie don’t shine, just so he could have his very own black Travolta hand puppet. Did it burn baby burn.
(Gant turns onto 5th Avenue and as the camera pans you can see he’s heading towards the Empire State Building.)
But oh wait, I forgot… you had to do it. You were the black man. Repressed in this world of plantation wrestling promotions. Boo-Hoo. I keep forgetting how white guys have never been saddled with a horrible gimmick, or worked for what basically amounted to dinner and travel money. Only the black man ever suffered to get ahead. Only the black man has ever felt he was being unfairly held down or not used to his full potential. I keep forgetting about this utopian society that us white guys have created for ourselves.
Now you are right, you haven’t tried to dig up any dirt on me. Truth be told, you obviously haven’t done much to find out about me. I guess if you did you wouldn’t have your rhetoric about the little battle royal match, so I do understand it. Perhaps you’ve put the blinders on to who I am and what I can do because you need to build up that confidence of yours.
Oh wait, that’s obviously not it. Because you’re in heavy rotation. Well so was Vanilla Ice. You two do have a lot in common though. You both want to be black.
(The Rant Ricky Gant stops at the Empire State building, the camera pans up to show how enormous the building truly is. The Gant steps inside the door, stops and looks back at the camera.)
I’m going to head up to the top, take some pictures of Manhattan for you and at least give you something to work on as you claim NYC. I’ll throw it in the mail with a map, and maybe some cheat sheets to help you be true to yourself, your peeps and your way of life. Play on, playa.
(Camera fades to black as Gant walks away from the camera, inside the Empire State Building.)
(FADE IN to Boogie Smallz puffing a blunt while watching Ricky Gant’s latest promo. Boogie looks angered and just shakes his head as he watches. The tapes ends and Boogie takes one more hit before he speaks.)
BOOGIE SMALLZ: Why you wanna twist my ish around? We ain’t talkin’ about head coaches in tha NFL, I’m not out hirin’ Cochran on my payroll, and this has nothin’ to do with plantations and futhamuckin’ slavery. I noticed your little insurance policy had disappeared, probably ‘cuz if you said that ish in his face, he would have beat yo’ punk ass down. I’m talkin’ about tha brotha’ you got as a bodyguard, that you dubbed Token. Now damn, what kind of white devil…that denounces there is any bias to black wrestlers, yet you got one watchin’ your back and you refer to him in a slanderous, racist fashion. You obviously have some deep resentment to African-Americans and if that’s tha case, then ma’fucka’ you need to get an attitude adjustment. (Puffs his blunt.)
Oh let me guess, you got black friends in NYC, so it’s cool if you say it. Carlton, down at tha country club you are a member of don’t count. How many black World champions have there been in GXW? What about in tha CSWA? Hell, what about in all of wrestling? Look at tha numbers. It’s not because there weren’t any around, it’s ‘cuz they never gave us a chance from jump.
It’s just like some rich triscuit to look down on a secondary title. You know why I covet this belt? Do you know why tha TV title means so much to me? Because I can make it worth somethin’. Look at the pieces of crap that diminished it, people like tha Reaver and Kin Hiroshi…a couple of bums. It’s my time to make this title mean somethin’, so when I go on to be tha first black World champ herre, I can look back and be proud of tha legacy I created. This is tha start of a dynasty. (Taps the belt on his shoulder.) Somethin’ you will NEVER be able to do. Nah…you’re too concerned with me. Too worried about takin’ pictures, rather than worried about getting’ hit with tha Power Bong. Too concerned with tryin’ to blast me on TV, doin’ your best negative campaignin’ to try and make yourself look good at my expense. (Puffs his blunt.) You should be, because you obviously can’t beat me…so why not stoop low and toss salt in my game? Hey man, it’s a solid plan, but whoadie…it ain’t gonna work.
I ain’t no studio gangsta, this blunt in my hand ain’t a prop, and I ain’t never won any titles on a damn fluke. I’m tha real deal, Runt, I ain’t no fake processed type brotha’. I’m not some lil’ punk choked up on HATERADE, like you. (Puffs his blunt.) Jealousy is a muthafucka, man. I see it in your eyes, I sense it in your voice, and after seein’ it numerous times since I’ve been herre…I’m used to it. You wish you were as cool as me. You wish you were as popular as me…and it eats away at you that you’re not! So why not spit venom toward me and try to knock my hustle? It’s almost sad you got nothin’ but negative ish to say…nothin’ positive to say…not even about yourself. Low self-esteem, Runt? Your mama not love you enough? She ever encourage you? She laugh at you when the bullies picked on you in school? Yo dawg, you got some deep-seeded issues man…you need to get that shizz checked out.
Stop hatin’, stop tryin’ to be down, basically…get off my dick. (Puffs his blunt.) Leeches…I swear, that’s what all these mofos herre are. They get a match with tha B To Tha Z and they wanna try and go all out. Probably a good idea, considerin’ I’m tha guy erryone came to see…I’m tha true main attraction. And no matter how much you milk this match for all it’s worth…you still are gonna be where you were before…nothing. A jobber, tha man at tha bottom of tha list, just one battle royal away from a title shot. (Smiles and puffs his blunt.) BELIEVE ‘DAT!
(FADE TO BLACK)
BOOGIE SMALLZ: Why you wanna twist my ish around? We ain’t talkin’ about head coaches in tha NFL, I’m not out hirin’ Cochran on my payroll, and this has nothin’ to do with plantations and futhamuckin’ slavery. I noticed your little insurance policy had disappeared, probably ‘cuz if you said that ish in his face, he would have beat yo’ punk ass down. I’m talkin’ about tha brotha’ you got as a bodyguard, that you dubbed Token. Now damn, what kind of white devil…that denounces there is any bias to black wrestlers, yet you got one watchin’ your back and you refer to him in a slanderous, racist fashion. You obviously have some deep resentment to African-Americans and if that’s tha case, then ma’fucka’ you need to get an attitude adjustment. (Puffs his blunt.)
Oh let me guess, you got black friends in NYC, so it’s cool if you say it. Carlton, down at tha country club you are a member of don’t count. How many black World champions have there been in GXW? What about in tha CSWA? Hell, what about in all of wrestling? Look at tha numbers. It’s not because there weren’t any around, it’s ‘cuz they never gave us a chance from jump.
It’s just like some rich triscuit to look down on a secondary title. You know why I covet this belt? Do you know why tha TV title means so much to me? Because I can make it worth somethin’. Look at the pieces of crap that diminished it, people like tha Reaver and Kin Hiroshi…a couple of bums. It’s my time to make this title mean somethin’, so when I go on to be tha first black World champ herre, I can look back and be proud of tha legacy I created. This is tha start of a dynasty. (Taps the belt on his shoulder.) Somethin’ you will NEVER be able to do. Nah…you’re too concerned with me. Too worried about takin’ pictures, rather than worried about getting’ hit with tha Power Bong. Too concerned with tryin’ to blast me on TV, doin’ your best negative campaignin’ to try and make yourself look good at my expense. (Puffs his blunt.) You should be, because you obviously can’t beat me…so why not stoop low and toss salt in my game? Hey man, it’s a solid plan, but whoadie…it ain’t gonna work.
I ain’t no studio gangsta, this blunt in my hand ain’t a prop, and I ain’t never won any titles on a damn fluke. I’m tha real deal, Runt, I ain’t no fake processed type brotha’. I’m not some lil’ punk choked up on HATERADE, like you. (Puffs his blunt.) Jealousy is a muthafucka, man. I see it in your eyes, I sense it in your voice, and after seein’ it numerous times since I’ve been herre…I’m used to it. You wish you were as cool as me. You wish you were as popular as me…and it eats away at you that you’re not! So why not spit venom toward me and try to knock my hustle? It’s almost sad you got nothin’ but negative ish to say…nothin’ positive to say…not even about yourself. Low self-esteem, Runt? Your mama not love you enough? She ever encourage you? She laugh at you when the bullies picked on you in school? Yo dawg, you got some deep-seeded issues man…you need to get that shizz checked out.
Stop hatin’, stop tryin’ to be down, basically…get off my dick. (Puffs his blunt.) Leeches…I swear, that’s what all these mofos herre are. They get a match with tha B To Tha Z and they wanna try and go all out. Probably a good idea, considerin’ I’m tha guy erryone came to see…I’m tha true main attraction. And no matter how much you milk this match for all it’s worth…you still are gonna be where you were before…nothing. A jobber, tha man at tha bottom of tha list, just one battle royal away from a title shot. (Smiles and puffs his blunt.) BELIEVE ‘DAT!
(FADE TO BLACK)