Post by Lord Hastings on Jul 29, 2009 20:31:39 GMT -5
Jason Reeves is in a hallway backstage, wearing a blonde wig, a mini-skirt, and a set of fake tits. Owen Peterson approaches him. They nod to each other.
Peterson: Jason.
Reeves: Owen.
Peterson: You can still respect yourself, dressed like that?
Reeves: Right...and just how IS the Lord-Chief these days?
Peterson: Ah, well played...
Reeves: And actually, the underwear is kind of comfortable.
Peterson: I'll pretend you didn't say that. Anyway, I'm supposed to give you a message from Hastings.
Reeves: Can you pretend you didn't find me?
Peterson: Believe me, right now I sort of wish I hadn't. He wants you to go interview him later.
Hastings: (off-camera) NIGLET! YOU GIVE HIM THAT MESSAGE PROPER!
Peterson sighs.
Peterson: Reeves, ya git yo' stank cross dressing poon-tang ass over here an' interview me so dat we's can spread da nigga message wide ta all o' muh ma fuckin peeps dat got sent down da river, and don't make me shank ya!
Donovan walks into the scene, his newly painted portrait tucked under his arm.
Hastings: That's better.
Peterson: You don't even know what I'm saying.
Hastings: What's that?
Peterson: I said behold the Lord of Pain.
Hastings: Right. Now go to the NiggaCave and hang this.
Peterson: I can't believe you walked out on your match because of this.
Hastings: My what now?
Peterson: You got counted out of your match with Tobias Erndhart when you walked away with this thing.
Hastings: That was a match? I thought that dickhead was just jealous of my painting, ergo the One True Lord-Chief Nigga of Pain gave him a proper beating.
Peterson: Just give it to me, I'll go hang it.
Donovan hands it to him.
Hastings: Make sure you hang it on the eastern wall, so that you can face it when your pray to Mecca.
Peterson: Why in blazes would I be praying to Mecca?
Hastings: Why does Radio Shack ask for your phone number when you buy batteries? I don't know. Just do it.
Peterson glares at him and walks off with the painting.
Hastings: Niglet Dos, dressing like a Niglette isn't going to make you a Niglette Uno, that can only be one top Niglet in the NiggaCourt, I hope you understand that.
Reeves: I don't understand a damn thing you're saying.
Hastings: Now, you may go ahead and conduct your interview, Niglette.
Reeves: I think I want to take my tits off.
Hastings: No.
Reeves: But they're heavy.
Hastings: You should have thought of that before you left the hizouse. Now ask your questions.
Reeves: The One True Lord-Chief Nigga of Pain, you'll be teaming with Travis Roberts on Sentinel against your respective opponents at No Holds Barred, Gabrielle Montgomery and "The Monster" Dredd. Your thoughts?
Hastings: Indeed, Blessed Immortality returns to action this week. You can't help but like our chances, considering this Dread fellow can't spell his own name, and Gabrielle is nothing but a dirty quitter.
Reeves: If you can call an eye poke "The Super Kick" can't he spell his name however he wants?
Hastings: You've got beef with the Super Kick? Listen, you know what I like to use to finish people sometimes? A brainbuster, and I call it "Destiny's Call" because I like to. If I wanted, I could call it "Yo Momma's So Fat." I can call my moves whatever I want.
Reeves: You're renaming your finisher "Yo Momma's So Fat?
Hastings: What the hell is wrong with you, Bitch Tits? I'm not calling my finishers something stupid and contrived. It's "Destiny's Call" and if you keep acting stupid, I will give you the Super Kick.
Reeves: Wait, an eye poke, or you're going to kick me in the face?
Hastings: Does it matter? Point is, no, he should spell his name right. Understand?
Reeves: You'll hurt me if I say I don't?
Hastings: It's entirely possible.
Reeves: Then I understand completely.
Hastings: Anything else? I'm giving you an exclusive here.
Reeves: Can we talk about Calypso?
Hastings: Sure, let's preface it with a Super Kick.
Reeves: Okay! Thank you, One True Lord-Chief Nigga of Pain, for your time!
Reeves scurries away, struggling to hold his juggling fake tits in place. Donovan glances around and spots the camera. He grabs hold of it and slowly pulls it closer to his own face.
Hastings: And let all this be a warning to you, Dredd. I don't care what kind of match we end up having at No Holds Barred, because the Lord of Pain is going to punish you, and make you bleed. It's simply...inevit-
Donovan pulls the camera too close and smacks his face on it.
Hastings: BITCH ASS MOTHER FUCKER!
Donovan shoves aside the camera and stumbles off, rubbing his face.
Peterson: Jason.
Reeves: Owen.
Peterson: You can still respect yourself, dressed like that?
Reeves: Right...and just how IS the Lord-Chief these days?
Peterson: Ah, well played...
Reeves: And actually, the underwear is kind of comfortable.
Peterson: I'll pretend you didn't say that. Anyway, I'm supposed to give you a message from Hastings.
Reeves: Can you pretend you didn't find me?
Peterson: Believe me, right now I sort of wish I hadn't. He wants you to go interview him later.
Hastings: (off-camera) NIGLET! YOU GIVE HIM THAT MESSAGE PROPER!
Peterson sighs.
Peterson: Reeves, ya git yo' stank cross dressing poon-tang ass over here an' interview me so dat we's can spread da nigga message wide ta all o' muh ma fuckin peeps dat got sent down da river, and don't make me shank ya!
Donovan walks into the scene, his newly painted portrait tucked under his arm.
Hastings: That's better.
Peterson: You don't even know what I'm saying.
Hastings: What's that?
Peterson: I said behold the Lord of Pain.
Hastings: Right. Now go to the NiggaCave and hang this.
Peterson: I can't believe you walked out on your match because of this.
Hastings: My what now?
Peterson: You got counted out of your match with Tobias Erndhart when you walked away with this thing.
Hastings: That was a match? I thought that dickhead was just jealous of my painting, ergo the One True Lord-Chief Nigga of Pain gave him a proper beating.
Peterson: Just give it to me, I'll go hang it.
Donovan hands it to him.
Hastings: Make sure you hang it on the eastern wall, so that you can face it when your pray to Mecca.
Peterson: Why in blazes would I be praying to Mecca?
Hastings: Why does Radio Shack ask for your phone number when you buy batteries? I don't know. Just do it.
Peterson glares at him and walks off with the painting.
Hastings: Niglet Dos, dressing like a Niglette isn't going to make you a Niglette Uno, that can only be one top Niglet in the NiggaCourt, I hope you understand that.
Reeves: I don't understand a damn thing you're saying.
Hastings: Now, you may go ahead and conduct your interview, Niglette.
Reeves: I think I want to take my tits off.
Hastings: No.
Reeves: But they're heavy.
Hastings: You should have thought of that before you left the hizouse. Now ask your questions.
Reeves: The One True Lord-Chief Nigga of Pain, you'll be teaming with Travis Roberts on Sentinel against your respective opponents at No Holds Barred, Gabrielle Montgomery and "The Monster" Dredd. Your thoughts?
Hastings: Indeed, Blessed Immortality returns to action this week. You can't help but like our chances, considering this Dread fellow can't spell his own name, and Gabrielle is nothing but a dirty quitter.
Reeves: If you can call an eye poke "The Super Kick" can't he spell his name however he wants?
Hastings: You've got beef with the Super Kick? Listen, you know what I like to use to finish people sometimes? A brainbuster, and I call it "Destiny's Call" because I like to. If I wanted, I could call it "Yo Momma's So Fat." I can call my moves whatever I want.
Reeves: You're renaming your finisher "Yo Momma's So Fat?
Hastings: What the hell is wrong with you, Bitch Tits? I'm not calling my finishers something stupid and contrived. It's "Destiny's Call" and if you keep acting stupid, I will give you the Super Kick.
Reeves: Wait, an eye poke, or you're going to kick me in the face?
Hastings: Does it matter? Point is, no, he should spell his name right. Understand?
Reeves: You'll hurt me if I say I don't?
Hastings: It's entirely possible.
Reeves: Then I understand completely.
Hastings: Anything else? I'm giving you an exclusive here.
Reeves: Can we talk about Calypso?
Hastings: Sure, let's preface it with a Super Kick.
Reeves: Okay! Thank you, One True Lord-Chief Nigga of Pain, for your time!
Reeves scurries away, struggling to hold his juggling fake tits in place. Donovan glances around and spots the camera. He grabs hold of it and slowly pulls it closer to his own face.
Hastings: And let all this be a warning to you, Dredd. I don't care what kind of match we end up having at No Holds Barred, because the Lord of Pain is going to punish you, and make you bleed. It's simply...inevit-
Donovan pulls the camera too close and smacks his face on it.
Hastings: BITCH ASS MOTHER FUCKER!
Donovan shoves aside the camera and stumbles off, rubbing his face.
