Post by Kevin the Pyromaniac on Jan 20, 2007 9:21:32 GMT -5
The snow was like blood in the setting sun as BOB's worst gimmick forced the third globe of ice on top of his ugly, frozen effigy.
Kevin: I rock! I built a snowman!
Our weedy pyromaniac shoves a carrot into the middle of the cold head before facing the fogged up camera. His lips are chapped from the chilly weather and his words are... stupid.
Kevin: I'm the best in BOB!
He turns to leave and end the promo as Bruce the Kleptomaniac (his old manager for those of you who just skip to your own segments) appears out of nowhere.
Bruce: Kevin, I thought you were dead!
Kevin reaches into his pants and pulls out an enourmous can of gasoline.
Kevin: I'll cover you with this stuff and set fire to you if you don't fuck off, I fire you, remember?
Bruce: No.
Kevin: Well, your contract ended when Death killed me or whatever... I only hired you so I had someone to rant at in my promos.
Bruce begins looking at Kevin's plastic 'the little mermaid' wristwatch with shifty eyes.
Kevin: Oh no, you're not stealing anything off me this time.
Bruce: Kev, I just want to know how you're alive.
Kevin: Hell wasn't bad enough so they sent me back to wrestle for BOB again... forget about that, how did you find me?
Bruce: Dude, this is your mom's house, I've been banging her ever since your funeral.
Kevin: WHAT?! I'll kill you!
Kevin tries to hit his old flat chested valet but is dropped to the ground right away because he's a jobber.
Bruce: You couldn't kill a fly.
Kevin gets back to his feet and grapples with his former friend. Bruce more than easily overpowers him and pushes him into the snowman, which falls on top of our hero forcing him to floor. A referee appears out of thin air and makes the count. 1, 2, 3!
Bruce: You really are a jobber.
He then strolls over to the double wide trailer and gives Kevin's mom a peck on the cheek. The camera zooms in on our fire obsessed loser as he claws his way back to his feet.
Kevin: Motherfucker.
He then stares intently into the lense.
Kevin: Pigeon, you're going downtown charlie brown! When I whip out my matches you will feel the heat and will soon be beat! Hey, that rhymed.
Kevin: I rock! I built a snowman!
Our weedy pyromaniac shoves a carrot into the middle of the cold head before facing the fogged up camera. His lips are chapped from the chilly weather and his words are... stupid.
Kevin: I'm the best in BOB!
He turns to leave and end the promo as Bruce the Kleptomaniac (his old manager for those of you who just skip to your own segments) appears out of nowhere.
Bruce: Kevin, I thought you were dead!
Kevin reaches into his pants and pulls out an enourmous can of gasoline.
Kevin: I'll cover you with this stuff and set fire to you if you don't fuck off, I fire you, remember?
Bruce: No.
Kevin: Well, your contract ended when Death killed me or whatever... I only hired you so I had someone to rant at in my promos.
Bruce begins looking at Kevin's plastic 'the little mermaid' wristwatch with shifty eyes.
Kevin: Oh no, you're not stealing anything off me this time.
Bruce: Kev, I just want to know how you're alive.
Kevin: Hell wasn't bad enough so they sent me back to wrestle for BOB again... forget about that, how did you find me?
Bruce: Dude, this is your mom's house, I've been banging her ever since your funeral.
Kevin: WHAT?! I'll kill you!
Kevin tries to hit his old flat chested valet but is dropped to the ground right away because he's a jobber.
Bruce: You couldn't kill a fly.
Kevin gets back to his feet and grapples with his former friend. Bruce more than easily overpowers him and pushes him into the snowman, which falls on top of our hero forcing him to floor. A referee appears out of thin air and makes the count. 1, 2, 3!
Bruce: You really are a jobber.
He then strolls over to the double wide trailer and gives Kevin's mom a peck on the cheek. The camera zooms in on our fire obsessed loser as he claws his way back to his feet.
Kevin: Motherfucker.
He then stares intently into the lense.
Kevin: Pigeon, you're going downtown charlie brown! When I whip out my matches you will feel the heat and will soon be beat! Hey, that rhymed.