Post by hamstergirl on Jul 4, 2009 10:41:20 GMT -5
[Hamster Girl is sat in a coffee shop (not Starbucks) with Sammy Stoner, sipping on a latte. Stoner is trying his best to cut his carrot cake with a fork, but his hand is shaking too violently. Hamster Girl stirs her drink with a plastic spoon.]
HG: What’s wrong Sammy?
SS: I can’t believe you signed up for that deathmatch tournament, I feel like I’m going to have a heart attack.
HG: Oh don’t sweat it. There’s a big cuddly hippo booked, so it can’t be that bad.
SS: What about Death?! He’s the Grim frickin Reaper for crying out loud!
HG: You’re just trying to upset me. You don’t think I’ll win my title back?
SS: NO!
HG: You’re a big stupid meanie.
[Stoner lights up a cigarette and tries to calm his nerves.]
SS: I need a vacation. Geneva sounds nice.
HG: Where’s that, Germany?
SS: You flunked out of high school didn’t you?
HG: I’m still in high school!
SS: *sigh* Let’s just pray you face Sam, Sam The Dancing Yam or something. I hate to think what would happen if you had to fight Death in this tournament… and I don’t even want to imagine what Jerri would do to you.
HG: She’s a big pussycat really.
SS: Yeah, with rabies.
HG: I didn’t know she was Jewish.
SS: Rabies, not rabbis! It means she slobbers at the mouth and tries to tear you apart with her teeth.
HG: Nah, I searched up S&M on the internet, just as research in case I ever have to fight her, and it’s just a bunch of people in black lingerie who like a smack on the butt while they’re kissing.
SS: You are way too innocent for your own good. Maybe if you insult Sam, Sam in a rant you’ll get booked against him.
HG: Let’s do it now! I can beat that guy easy.
[She looks at the camera.]
HG: Sam, Sam… you’re a big smelly dork with silly glasses! Oh yeah, you cheese me off so much with your dumb little yam costume I want to kick your butt from here to cancun!
SS: I’m sure he’s quaking in his boots.
HG: He better be!
SS: Now I don’t have to worry, you wont even make it past the first round.
HG: Hey!
HG: What’s wrong Sammy?
SS: I can’t believe you signed up for that deathmatch tournament, I feel like I’m going to have a heart attack.
HG: Oh don’t sweat it. There’s a big cuddly hippo booked, so it can’t be that bad.
SS: What about Death?! He’s the Grim frickin Reaper for crying out loud!
HG: You’re just trying to upset me. You don’t think I’ll win my title back?
SS: NO!
HG: You’re a big stupid meanie.
[Stoner lights up a cigarette and tries to calm his nerves.]
SS: I need a vacation. Geneva sounds nice.
HG: Where’s that, Germany?
SS: You flunked out of high school didn’t you?
HG: I’m still in high school!
SS: *sigh* Let’s just pray you face Sam, Sam The Dancing Yam or something. I hate to think what would happen if you had to fight Death in this tournament… and I don’t even want to imagine what Jerri would do to you.
HG: She’s a big pussycat really.
SS: Yeah, with rabies.
HG: I didn’t know she was Jewish.
SS: Rabies, not rabbis! It means she slobbers at the mouth and tries to tear you apart with her teeth.
HG: Nah, I searched up S&M on the internet, just as research in case I ever have to fight her, and it’s just a bunch of people in black lingerie who like a smack on the butt while they’re kissing.
SS: You are way too innocent for your own good. Maybe if you insult Sam, Sam in a rant you’ll get booked against him.
HG: Let’s do it now! I can beat that guy easy.
[She looks at the camera.]
HG: Sam, Sam… you’re a big smelly dork with silly glasses! Oh yeah, you cheese me off so much with your dumb little yam costume I want to kick your butt from here to cancun!
SS: I’m sure he’s quaking in his boots.
HG: He better be!
SS: Now I don’t have to worry, you wont even make it past the first round.
HG: Hey!