Post by @xL on Nov 7, 2006 4:29:33 GMT -5
>>Time... 11:31 p.m.<<
>>Day... October 31st, 2006, All Hallow's Eve<<
>>Location... GwarTellica Concert - Aurora, IL<<
>>...<<
>>Scene: It was a dark and stormy night. Well... ok, it wasn't that stormy. More like a light drizzle. But it was dark. REALLY dark. It being half past midnight, I guess it would have to be. Unless it was like... a desert. Or something. Anyway, It was dark and drizzling. But inside the AuroraDome [or whatever the arena there is called, sorry, too lazy to check figures and all that kinda sh!t], the lights were bright, the guitar was wailing... and so was the voice of the world's most beloved rock star; Axl VanHalen. The crowd was screaming for him. The girls were adoring him. The guys... the guys wanted to be him. And the strangest thing about this was... it wasn't a dream. No... for this... this was a nightmare. The nightmare of one man. Axl's agent, Rott N. Dealer. Well... ex-agent.<<
>>You see, after BoB went a while without a show, and Axl's album went without a single sold copy, Rott had no choice but to cut Axl loose. But ever since doing so, Rott has been left with no clients, depending on the money from his son's dog fighting winnings. And sadly, a week ago, poor Stewie had his right leg bitten off by a rabid poodle in Round 3 of the Kibbles and Hooves Cup tournament. Left with no income, Rott had to sell his son to a farmer in exchange for a handful of magic beans. Sadly [again], these beans turned out to be nothing more than rat droppings. Surviving on rat droppings alone for an entire week, Rott began to have nightmares... nightmares of Axl VanHalen signing with another agent... an agent that could do the trick, and finally bring Axl to the heights Rott never thought he could. Rott lost all self esteem, until that Halloween night, when he decided to ring Axl up on the phone...]
Rott: Axl... I can't believe I'm doing this... But I've decided that we need to work together again. We need to be a team again, Axl. You and me, like old times. It's the only way we can survive. And I know just the ticket. Let's drop the whole rock thing... and go into folk! Yeah, that's the ticket! We'll call it; Axl and Garfunkle. I've already been in talks with legendary folk singer Marmaduke Garfunkle [no relation], and-
Axl: Rott.
Rott: Yes Axl?
Axl: Shut it. Dude... how should I put it. You? Me? We're done. In the past month or so, I've not only moved past you, I've moved into a new house, dropped my old girlfriend, split up Gwartellica, adopted a taste in New Age music, and most importantly of all... sold out.
Rott: S... s... sold out?
Axl: Yu-yu-yu-YES! What, do you not speak English or something. Fact of the matter is, the rock world... never gave me what I want. What I need. What I DESIRE. And the only reason I didn't succeed in wrestling... besides the fact that BoB hasn't been open for business until the past week, is that I was too focused on a business that doesn't mean SH!T in the end. Sure, my heart lies in rock and roll... but my wallet? Well... my wallet points in a different direction. And that direction? Wrestling.
Rott: Wait... so you're telling me you're quitting rock... to work for BoB?
Axl: Hell no. To me... BoB is dead. And soon... it shall be to every other person on Earth. Including its soon to be EX-employees. For you see, there is only one worthy company in sports entertainment... and that is MY company... the company with the biggest names... the flashiest flare... and the ONLY "Big Boss" That Matters, me. And that company? Will be putting BoB out of business by the end of 2007. Lack of revenue couldn't do it. Lack of talent couldn't do it. Lack of common SENSE couldn't do it. But the one thing that can do it... goes by four little letters. The four letters that will spell out Brawlers on a Budget's final demise...
Axl: W... C... W...
Axl: ... F.
Rott: WCWF?
Axl: You're damn right. And babe... it's only just begun. Goodnight. And sweet dreams.
[As the coversation ends, we see Rott N. Dealer, reluctantly hanging up the phone... as he rests back into bed. He drifts back to sleep, before suddenly beginning to toss and turn... from the obvious nightmares taking hold once more. As Rott settles into a life of nightmares and ratt dropping dinners... we can only imagine what 2007 holds in store for Axl VanHalen... Brawlers on a Budget... and the New Breed of Stupidity itself; ]
- WCWF -
>>Day... October 31st, 2006, All Hallow's Eve<<
>>Location... GwarTellica Concert - Aurora, IL<<
>>...<<
>>Scene: It was a dark and stormy night. Well... ok, it wasn't that stormy. More like a light drizzle. But it was dark. REALLY dark. It being half past midnight, I guess it would have to be. Unless it was like... a desert. Or something. Anyway, It was dark and drizzling. But inside the AuroraDome [or whatever the arena there is called, sorry, too lazy to check figures and all that kinda sh!t], the lights were bright, the guitar was wailing... and so was the voice of the world's most beloved rock star; Axl VanHalen. The crowd was screaming for him. The girls were adoring him. The guys... the guys wanted to be him. And the strangest thing about this was... it wasn't a dream. No... for this... this was a nightmare. The nightmare of one man. Axl's agent, Rott N. Dealer. Well... ex-agent.<<
>>You see, after BoB went a while without a show, and Axl's album went without a single sold copy, Rott had no choice but to cut Axl loose. But ever since doing so, Rott has been left with no clients, depending on the money from his son's dog fighting winnings. And sadly, a week ago, poor Stewie had his right leg bitten off by a rabid poodle in Round 3 of the Kibbles and Hooves Cup tournament. Left with no income, Rott had to sell his son to a farmer in exchange for a handful of magic beans. Sadly [again], these beans turned out to be nothing more than rat droppings. Surviving on rat droppings alone for an entire week, Rott began to have nightmares... nightmares of Axl VanHalen signing with another agent... an agent that could do the trick, and finally bring Axl to the heights Rott never thought he could. Rott lost all self esteem, until that Halloween night, when he decided to ring Axl up on the phone...]
Rott: Axl... I can't believe I'm doing this... But I've decided that we need to work together again. We need to be a team again, Axl. You and me, like old times. It's the only way we can survive. And I know just the ticket. Let's drop the whole rock thing... and go into folk! Yeah, that's the ticket! We'll call it; Axl and Garfunkle. I've already been in talks with legendary folk singer Marmaduke Garfunkle [no relation], and-
Axl: Rott.
Rott: Yes Axl?
Axl: Shut it. Dude... how should I put it. You? Me? We're done. In the past month or so, I've not only moved past you, I've moved into a new house, dropped my old girlfriend, split up Gwartellica, adopted a taste in New Age music, and most importantly of all... sold out.
Rott: S... s... sold out?
Axl: Yu-yu-yu-YES! What, do you not speak English or something. Fact of the matter is, the rock world... never gave me what I want. What I need. What I DESIRE. And the only reason I didn't succeed in wrestling... besides the fact that BoB hasn't been open for business until the past week, is that I was too focused on a business that doesn't mean SH!T in the end. Sure, my heart lies in rock and roll... but my wallet? Well... my wallet points in a different direction. And that direction? Wrestling.
Rott: Wait... so you're telling me you're quitting rock... to work for BoB?
Axl: Hell no. To me... BoB is dead. And soon... it shall be to every other person on Earth. Including its soon to be EX-employees. For you see, there is only one worthy company in sports entertainment... and that is MY company... the company with the biggest names... the flashiest flare... and the ONLY "Big Boss" That Matters, me. And that company? Will be putting BoB out of business by the end of 2007. Lack of revenue couldn't do it. Lack of talent couldn't do it. Lack of common SENSE couldn't do it. But the one thing that can do it... goes by four little letters. The four letters that will spell out Brawlers on a Budget's final demise...
Axl: W... C... W...
Axl: ... F.
Rott: WCWF?
Axl: You're damn right. And babe... it's only just begun. Goodnight. And sweet dreams.
[As the coversation ends, we see Rott N. Dealer, reluctantly hanging up the phone... as he rests back into bed. He drifts back to sleep, before suddenly beginning to toss and turn... from the obvious nightmares taking hold once more. As Rott settles into a life of nightmares and ratt dropping dinners... we can only imagine what 2007 holds in store for Axl VanHalen... Brawlers on a Budget... and the New Breed of Stupidity itself; ]
- WCWF -