Post by The Doc on Apr 1, 2007 16:01:54 GMT -5
CAPTION: SCENE SET-UP GOES HERE
SMP: [pressing a strip of white medical tape to his forehead…]
Okay, I’ve been silent long enough. I’ve let the tension that has festered back in BOB…fester long enough. In fact, it’s festered so long it could be considered an Uncle Fester by now, and his nephew just applied for internship at my alma mater… HACKUM BOSOM STATE UNIVERSITY.
NH: Oh dear Lord…
SMP: I graduated summa cum loudly, ya know?
NH: Hmpf!
SMP: Anyway, I can see Heidi is only here for sarcastic quips and bland asides, so I’m going to cut right to it…
Okay douja, I’m going to have to…. “give a nigga his props.” It wasn’t a technical masterpiece, but if I remember correctly… I said it wasn’t going to be one.
You gave me all you had, in the small amount of time booking gave us, and we gave ‘em a decent little spot. However, despite nearly bleeding out I almost got ya.
And you know it…
If it wasn’t for some purported rule that you can’t have a Moving Bus Match with a moving bus that’s not a moving bus… I’d be wearing that BOB LEGEND TITLE at this very moment.
And you know it…
And after Asshole Van Halen smacked me on the noggin with a chair, and knocked me out cold, and held me there for a free shot… you passed and clocked him instead. I respect you for that.
And you now know it.
NH: Should I play a violin or something?
SMP: AXL! The only thing, and I mean the ONLY thing I agree with you on is this…
I do believe Sabastian Bach could take Tupac. And if Shakur wasn’t dead, I’m sure BigBoss would find a way to sign them up for the next Web Cast On Demand to prove it in hopes of earning a buck. Hell, he’ll probably book it anyway…
But I’m not here to opine on Big B’s crappy booking…
I’m here to tell you this. Actually it’s a story.
NH: Hoo boy…
SMP: No, this won’ t take long.
You say I deserve your anger? You say you want to prove you’re better than I? So, you hit me with a chair and try to double me up and run me out of here…
I know why that is. Do you?
Do you even know why this promotion called me back?
Here’s a little metaphorical synopsis…
Engineer Charles Steinmetz was once again called out of retirement by General Electric to help locate a vexing problem in a complex system.
Eventually, he made an “X” with a piece of chalk on a small component in one machine.
GE’s other engineers examined the component and were amazed to find the defect in that precise location.
But the company was taken aback when Steinmetz’s invoice arrived: It was for $10,000.
So they asked him to itemize…
His response: “Making one chalk mark: $1; knowing where to place it: $9,999.”
[SMP takes a deep breath…]
I know where to place the “X”.
And buddy, that “X” is going to be placed right on your forehead… because YOUR defect resides inside your skull if you think you’re going to hit me with a chair and skip off gaily into the night without repercussions.
You have ignited a fire in me that has long since smoldered its last ember.
And you better PRAY to whomever it is a guy like you prays to that I don’t see you in that tournament, because I’m making it a personal vendetta to make it to the finals, I may even HELP you make it to the finals, just so I can get my hands on you…. And when I do, I’ll take that desecrated, faux-like shitty, pseudo quasi Swiss Army Belt you manufactured and shove it STRAIGHT UP YOUR DOOKIE POOT CRUSTY ASS!
GET IT?
GOT IT?
GOOD!
[Several moments of uncomfortable silence pass as SMP glares at the camera while simultaneously foaming at his mouth. He wipes his chin, and suddenly, a smile appears.]
SMP: On second thought. I was impressed by your initiative. I’m overwhelmed that you have the guts to jump on The Smooth Operator and openly challenge the greatest wrestler to ever grace this planet.
I have a proposition for you…
Instead of us taking a little chair shot and making a whole monster deal out of it… how about we team up and rule this promotion with an iron fist?
What do you say?
APRIL FOOLS!
I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!
CAPTION: FADE OUT
SMP: [pressing a strip of white medical tape to his forehead…]
Okay, I’ve been silent long enough. I’ve let the tension that has festered back in BOB…fester long enough. In fact, it’s festered so long it could be considered an Uncle Fester by now, and his nephew just applied for internship at my alma mater… HACKUM BOSOM STATE UNIVERSITY.
NH: Oh dear Lord…
SMP: I graduated summa cum loudly, ya know?
NH: Hmpf!
SMP: Anyway, I can see Heidi is only here for sarcastic quips and bland asides, so I’m going to cut right to it…
Okay douja, I’m going to have to…. “give a nigga his props.” It wasn’t a technical masterpiece, but if I remember correctly… I said it wasn’t going to be one.
You gave me all you had, in the small amount of time booking gave us, and we gave ‘em a decent little spot. However, despite nearly bleeding out I almost got ya.
And you know it…
If it wasn’t for some purported rule that you can’t have a Moving Bus Match with a moving bus that’s not a moving bus… I’d be wearing that BOB LEGEND TITLE at this very moment.
And you know it…
And after Asshole Van Halen smacked me on the noggin with a chair, and knocked me out cold, and held me there for a free shot… you passed and clocked him instead. I respect you for that.
And you now know it.
NH: Should I play a violin or something?
SMP: AXL! The only thing, and I mean the ONLY thing I agree with you on is this…
I do believe Sabastian Bach could take Tupac. And if Shakur wasn’t dead, I’m sure BigBoss would find a way to sign them up for the next Web Cast On Demand to prove it in hopes of earning a buck. Hell, he’ll probably book it anyway…
But I’m not here to opine on Big B’s crappy booking…
I’m here to tell you this. Actually it’s a story.
NH: Hoo boy…
SMP: No, this won’ t take long.
You say I deserve your anger? You say you want to prove you’re better than I? So, you hit me with a chair and try to double me up and run me out of here…
I know why that is. Do you?
Do you even know why this promotion called me back?
Here’s a little metaphorical synopsis…
Engineer Charles Steinmetz was once again called out of retirement by General Electric to help locate a vexing problem in a complex system.
Eventually, he made an “X” with a piece of chalk on a small component in one machine.
GE’s other engineers examined the component and were amazed to find the defect in that precise location.
But the company was taken aback when Steinmetz’s invoice arrived: It was for $10,000.
So they asked him to itemize…
His response: “Making one chalk mark: $1; knowing where to place it: $9,999.”
[SMP takes a deep breath…]
I know where to place the “X”.
And buddy, that “X” is going to be placed right on your forehead… because YOUR defect resides inside your skull if you think you’re going to hit me with a chair and skip off gaily into the night without repercussions.
You have ignited a fire in me that has long since smoldered its last ember.
And you better PRAY to whomever it is a guy like you prays to that I don’t see you in that tournament, because I’m making it a personal vendetta to make it to the finals, I may even HELP you make it to the finals, just so I can get my hands on you…. And when I do, I’ll take that desecrated, faux-like shitty, pseudo quasi Swiss Army Belt you manufactured and shove it STRAIGHT UP YOUR DOOKIE POOT CRUSTY ASS!
GET IT?
GOT IT?
GOOD!
[Several moments of uncomfortable silence pass as SMP glares at the camera while simultaneously foaming at his mouth. He wipes his chin, and suddenly, a smile appears.]
SMP: On second thought. I was impressed by your initiative. I’m overwhelmed that you have the guts to jump on The Smooth Operator and openly challenge the greatest wrestler to ever grace this planet.
I have a proposition for you…
Instead of us taking a little chair shot and making a whole monster deal out of it… how about we team up and rule this promotion with an iron fist?
What do you say?
APRIL FOOLS!
I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!
CAPTION: FADE OUT