Calamity Jon
League Member
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 52
- Points
- 0
(Audio comes up on a black screen to the booming voices of BENJAMIN "BIG TOM" REMUS and "IRON" JOHN WAITS signing their trademark song - "Adventurrrre ... men of adventurrrrre .... he yells at the crew, they'll have nothing to eat, along the river of men! And it's up one side and back again, along the river of mennnnn ..." - along with a high keening wind often heard in sound effects records from the mid-50's or in Bugs Bunny cartoons.
The video fades in to a stock footage scene of what appears to be a heavily equipped team of six men scaling an icy precipice. Then, it "closes in" to the MEN OF ADVENTURE, fully outfitted in their fringed leather fur trapper regalia and coonskin caps, "climbing" the side of a sheer cliff. A la the Batman tv show of the sixties, it's merely a case of the camera being turned sideways, as evidenced by the rope sagging towards the wall, as do the MoA's coonskin cap tails and fringe. Handfuls of soap chips are thrown from off camera, to simulate pouring snow, and the scene is shot in front of a bluescreen depicting a film of snowy mountains. John and Tom "strain" to pull themselves up a common hardware store rope, as they shuffle along...)
John: "Ho HO! Friend Tom, truly there is no other adventure greater than pitting our own mettle against nature's steely, dry glare of icy hatred, and battling against nature's pet bitch, gravity! It tugs at my entrails, Tom, MY ENTRAILS! TUGGING AT THEM! HO HO!"
Tom: "Ho HO! Yes John, I think it is fair to say that we Men of Adventure, adventurous men as we are, having adventures and being men, we have nary had an adventure greater ... LEST I consider the adventure SO adventurous as we had at Primetime in St.Louis recently! Pitting our gargantuan muscle and hardworn skill (spits out a mouthful of soap flakes) against such mighty competitors as are rarely seen in any arena of sport! Truly, our wits and skills were never so tested but in mighty combat, and only by a margin narrower than a mouse's pubic hair did we emerge with the victory, MUCH LESS OUR VERY LIVES!"
John: (pause) "Has the syphillis reached your brain, Tom? We savaged those poor bastards like ... Young Republicans on Spring Break in a ... um ... virgin factory. We ... Listen, we practically (BLEEP)s-raped those two!"
Tom: "Ho ho, I KNOW, they were PUSSIES! I WAS JOKING! HA HO!" (triumphantly lets go of rope, which promptly affixes itself to the rock face)
John: "Good one Tom, HO HO!" (also drops his rope, the men high five, then pick it up and continue pretending to scale the cliff). But Tom, my friend, I will tell you what is NOT a laughing matter..."
Tom: "A Mexican state official's pregnant daughter pointing at you from across a crowded room?"
John: "A good one, but no, my burly companion." (John sits cross legged on the sheer cliff wall) "Despite our powerful and undeniable impression left on the flaccid empty wineskins of the CSWA during Primetime, we are nowhere to be seen on the card for the upcoming Anniversary Pay Per View. I must ask, 'The hell?' Is it just, friend Tom, is it fair, is it equitable, is it CONCEIVABLE that we be left out? I am only left to wonder why ... WHY ... ignore the first TRUE MEN this federation of ass-hungry whore weasels has ever seen? Did we inadvertently offend them? MY MIND REELS!"
Tom: "With great sweeping movements and looki- oh..." (Tom looks away from the cue card and starts over, with great sweeping movements and looking into the distance) "My good and roughhewn adventure-chum John, I tell you this: This world is a hollow and wasted condom, whose flaccid and dangling tip is barely moistened with the gooey spunk of BRUTE MANHOOD! For the teeming masses of preening cock-a-rows who flutter their pretty tail feathers and caw brashly into the gnawing void - CAW! CAW! CAW! HOOT! CAW! - are little but paper tigers. In fact, they are paper tigers who are dressed up in feathers to look like birds, and you know what that is, my friend John? A SHAM! A FACADE! A crass and meatless mockery of TRUE MEN THE WORLD OVER (by which I mean us). And although it but MURDERS my NOBLE AND PROUD HEART, the CSWA is the HIVE and HAVEN for these KNITTING COCKANINNIES, my friend John!"
"Why are we shunned from the Anniversary card? I will tell you, matey, because WE SCARE THEM ALL! Confronted by TRUE MEN whose BRUTE STRENGTH and UNWAVERING COURAGE makes them seem by comparison but THE FARTS OF TINY MOUSIES ringing in an UNWASHED RESTROOM at the YMCA! They TREMBLE, they SHAKE, they QUIVER IN THEIR BOOTS at the mere mention of our names, and DARE TO SHARE the ring with us? THEY - DARE - NOT! Because our MIGHT is a glorious SWATH OF LIGHTED SWORDS and we CLEAVE DOWN the prattling weaklings before us! Plus, I will HIT SOMEONE WITH A CHAIR, I MEAN IT! Who would dare, John, who COULD dare to face the utter defeat and humiliation they would no doubt face at the very CELEBRATION of their first collective period, these huddlers within a chiffon and lace blood hut? WHO WOULD DARE, my friend John, FACE ... The MEN OF ADVENTURE such as WE!?"
John: (Claps heartily, then offers an Arsenio 'woop woop' before looking 'up' in horror) "By Satan's Nefarious Nuts, my friend Tom, AVALANCHE!"
(CUTTO: stock footage of a skier being overtaken by a wall of plummeting ice and snow, as the voices of John and Tom cry bloody murder. After a moment, CUTTO: John and Tom sitting ass-over-teats in piles and piles of soap flakes and Styrofoam peanuts, the camera having been righted so that they are again sitting on solid ground)
Tom: "Nice try, God, YOU F(BLEEP)G!"
John: "True Big Tom, even all the forces of nature cannot hold down her bastard sons, the MEN OF ADVENTURE! Can the CSWA expect to do better? Can they? CAN they? HO HO!"
Tom: "Ho HO!"
(Slow zoom to Tom and John laughing menacingly in their piles and piles of snow, Tom stopping to spit out a mouthful of bubbling soap, then continuing, and the camera FTB)
The video fades in to a stock footage scene of what appears to be a heavily equipped team of six men scaling an icy precipice. Then, it "closes in" to the MEN OF ADVENTURE, fully outfitted in their fringed leather fur trapper regalia and coonskin caps, "climbing" the side of a sheer cliff. A la the Batman tv show of the sixties, it's merely a case of the camera being turned sideways, as evidenced by the rope sagging towards the wall, as do the MoA's coonskin cap tails and fringe. Handfuls of soap chips are thrown from off camera, to simulate pouring snow, and the scene is shot in front of a bluescreen depicting a film of snowy mountains. John and Tom "strain" to pull themselves up a common hardware store rope, as they shuffle along...)
John: "Ho HO! Friend Tom, truly there is no other adventure greater than pitting our own mettle against nature's steely, dry glare of icy hatred, and battling against nature's pet bitch, gravity! It tugs at my entrails, Tom, MY ENTRAILS! TUGGING AT THEM! HO HO!"
Tom: "Ho HO! Yes John, I think it is fair to say that we Men of Adventure, adventurous men as we are, having adventures and being men, we have nary had an adventure greater ... LEST I consider the adventure SO adventurous as we had at Primetime in St.Louis recently! Pitting our gargantuan muscle and hardworn skill (spits out a mouthful of soap flakes) against such mighty competitors as are rarely seen in any arena of sport! Truly, our wits and skills were never so tested but in mighty combat, and only by a margin narrower than a mouse's pubic hair did we emerge with the victory, MUCH LESS OUR VERY LIVES!"
John: (pause) "Has the syphillis reached your brain, Tom? We savaged those poor bastards like ... Young Republicans on Spring Break in a ... um ... virgin factory. We ... Listen, we practically (BLEEP)s-raped those two!"
Tom: "Ho ho, I KNOW, they were PUSSIES! I WAS JOKING! HA HO!" (triumphantly lets go of rope, which promptly affixes itself to the rock face)
John: "Good one Tom, HO HO!" (also drops his rope, the men high five, then pick it up and continue pretending to scale the cliff). But Tom, my friend, I will tell you what is NOT a laughing matter..."
Tom: "A Mexican state official's pregnant daughter pointing at you from across a crowded room?"
John: "A good one, but no, my burly companion." (John sits cross legged on the sheer cliff wall) "Despite our powerful and undeniable impression left on the flaccid empty wineskins of the CSWA during Primetime, we are nowhere to be seen on the card for the upcoming Anniversary Pay Per View. I must ask, 'The hell?' Is it just, friend Tom, is it fair, is it equitable, is it CONCEIVABLE that we be left out? I am only left to wonder why ... WHY ... ignore the first TRUE MEN this federation of ass-hungry whore weasels has ever seen? Did we inadvertently offend them? MY MIND REELS!"
Tom: "With great sweeping movements and looki- oh..." (Tom looks away from the cue card and starts over, with great sweeping movements and looking into the distance) "My good and roughhewn adventure-chum John, I tell you this: This world is a hollow and wasted condom, whose flaccid and dangling tip is barely moistened with the gooey spunk of BRUTE MANHOOD! For the teeming masses of preening cock-a-rows who flutter their pretty tail feathers and caw brashly into the gnawing void - CAW! CAW! CAW! HOOT! CAW! - are little but paper tigers. In fact, they are paper tigers who are dressed up in feathers to look like birds, and you know what that is, my friend John? A SHAM! A FACADE! A crass and meatless mockery of TRUE MEN THE WORLD OVER (by which I mean us). And although it but MURDERS my NOBLE AND PROUD HEART, the CSWA is the HIVE and HAVEN for these KNITTING COCKANINNIES, my friend John!"
"Why are we shunned from the Anniversary card? I will tell you, matey, because WE SCARE THEM ALL! Confronted by TRUE MEN whose BRUTE STRENGTH and UNWAVERING COURAGE makes them seem by comparison but THE FARTS OF TINY MOUSIES ringing in an UNWASHED RESTROOM at the YMCA! They TREMBLE, they SHAKE, they QUIVER IN THEIR BOOTS at the mere mention of our names, and DARE TO SHARE the ring with us? THEY - DARE - NOT! Because our MIGHT is a glorious SWATH OF LIGHTED SWORDS and we CLEAVE DOWN the prattling weaklings before us! Plus, I will HIT SOMEONE WITH A CHAIR, I MEAN IT! Who would dare, John, who COULD dare to face the utter defeat and humiliation they would no doubt face at the very CELEBRATION of their first collective period, these huddlers within a chiffon and lace blood hut? WHO WOULD DARE, my friend John, FACE ... The MEN OF ADVENTURE such as WE!?"
John: (Claps heartily, then offers an Arsenio 'woop woop' before looking 'up' in horror) "By Satan's Nefarious Nuts, my friend Tom, AVALANCHE!"
(CUTTO: stock footage of a skier being overtaken by a wall of plummeting ice and snow, as the voices of John and Tom cry bloody murder. After a moment, CUTTO: John and Tom sitting ass-over-teats in piles and piles of soap flakes and Styrofoam peanuts, the camera having been righted so that they are again sitting on solid ground)
Tom: "Nice try, God, YOU F(BLEEP)G!"
John: "True Big Tom, even all the forces of nature cannot hold down her bastard sons, the MEN OF ADVENTURE! Can the CSWA expect to do better? Can they? CAN they? HO HO!"
Tom: "Ho HO!"
(Slow zoom to Tom and John laughing menacingly in their piles and piles of snow, Tom stopping to spit out a mouthful of bubbling soap, then continuing, and the camera FTB)