Post by adm on Aug 18, 2011 20:15:10 GMT -6
I can't be a legend yet. I'm not dead.
Maynard James Keenan
A bell rings and a very disturbed group of twenty-somethings pile into what looks like a classroom. Kristoff Liam Bates is at the front, wearing a lab coat. The chalkboard has "Welcome to Bates' One-Night Course in defeating JackHammer", along with the line "Master of Technical Wrestling, Kristoff Liam Bates." He looks at the crowd of males, all possibly drunk and pulled from a bar.
"Good evening, class."
He points at the chalkboard with a long, slender wooden pointer. Tapping the board for attention.
"May I have your attention please, eyes to the front. Yes. I am Kristoff Bates, and welcome to my one-night course in defeating JackHammer. Or as we all love to call him in nCw, Jobber #2."
A shudder of laughter ripples through the room as Bates takes part in a small chuckle before resuming his "teacher" role. He takes the chalk and writes on the board "Jackhammerus, Idioticus".
"Ok, now who knows what this is?"
A nerdy-looking 19-year old in the back row raises his hand, "JackHammer?"
"And who can tell me what the description for this species of hominid is?"
Another hand, this time from a drunk frat boy, "Uh...he's a giant douchebag?"
"You're right, but you are missing one key component." Bates pulls down the overhead projector screen and puts up a picture of a brain. "You see here, a human brain. In Jackhammerus Idioticus, the majority of this is full of holes and shrunken beyond repair. The largest sector is that of the Amygdala, which is known for irrational behavior and aggression. Also it is the reason people vote Republican."
Another row of laughter runs through the room. Bates beats the pointer on the board to get their silence.
"Now, since he is so unintelligent, I have another question to ask. When, and I must ask you, WHEN, have you ever seen me teach a class before now?"
Everyone raises their hand. He laughs to himself and nods. They all respond with a resounding "Never!"
"Good, good. Now, what, then, is the purpose of making a fool of himself by pretending he was taking over a class I never taught? Anyone? No one? Well I'll answer. It is because he is AFRAID. Afraid of something I have that he doesn't. I have intellect, intelligence, as it were, over him. He is a cro-magnon in the modern times. He is a Neanderthal long beyond his expiration date. He feels intimidated by my skill and intellect, therefore he has to compensate with playing teacher to try and fill that void his personality lacks. Much like a redneck with a small penis who buys a big truck, they do it to impress others for the things they feel insecure about."
All the jocks in the room slink into their seats at the mention of trucks, and the nerdier of the class laugh at them. Bates beats the pointer against the board again to get their attention.
"So, class, is there anything really to learn from this, except how stupid this Neanderthal is?"
They all shake their heads.
"Good, good. Now, on to the next lesson. How to defeat a Giant. Now, as I displayed last week..."
A few jocks in the back laugh, only to get a glare of doom to shut them up.
"As I was SAYING, last week I displayed a very uncommon method of winning. I got my ass beat, to the point of the opponent being disqualified. Now, this is a very non-recommended route and I doubt I will employ it again, but it got me a win over Lex Senseless nonetheless. However, this week, there is the David versus Goliath in the second act, and what does that mean?"
A jock with a cross around his neck raises his hand, "Uh...that means that you have to hit him with a slingshot like the bible, right bro?"
"Uh, no, bro...I don't. I have to use a METAPHORICAL slingshot. In my case, perhaps a jumping CPU Trouble, or knocking out his knees so I can put him in the Suffocating Cubicle. Either way, it works measures to use their height to an advantage. As displayed by the law of Gravity from Sir Isaac Newton, the speed of gravity is nine point eight one meters per second squared. Thus, if I ascend seven feet into the air, or approximately two point two meters, I will exert a force..."
Bates is boring the jocks, but keeps the nerds on their seats with the technical details. He is writing a diagram on the board of Hammer and the height of his head to the mat. He writes a few numbers and begins to do math as he continues to speak.
"Of the weight of his head, multiplied by the distance to the ground over the acceleration of gravity, which accounts for approximately two seconds of travel time, to result in a net force of twelve Newtons onto the skull of JackHammer, which would produce, among other things, a concussion or temporary loss of consciousness."
The jocks all yawn, and Bates raps the pointer violently.
"Alright, I'll break for fifteen so you idiots can go get coffee to wake you up from your drunken slumbers."
****
So, Hammer, where do you get off? I mean, seriously. You believe you can ignore my personality and traits for some rehash of a "great moment" you had imagined me doing. I am no teacher, though I have a college education. I have an MBA, if you even know what that is. It is an accounting degree, which a lot of business executives, accountants, and financial advisers have. I was the last of those, and lost my job to a Punjab who could do what I did for half the cost, and a simple interpreter in the bundle. I'm glad I'm here, though, I get to show idiots like you that two plus two does actually equal four...instead of three due to the lack of concentration you have and inability to count over three.
Seriously, Hammer, what is your problem? You have a personality defect predispositioned to violence and aggression with lots of alcoholism toward anyone and everyone around you. You fly off the handle, you attack security, and you drink...heavily. You are also a big man, so you probably have the Mark Calloway reflex of thinking due to your size, you are ultimately given the ability to do what you please. This is where you are wrong, subhuman trash. If my victories over Gib have shown you nothing, the big usually fall harder, and they are just as easy to beat as the equal or small. It is all a matter of strategy and technique. Without those, you cannot win ANY match. But you don't know about winning. You don't do it much. So don't get your hopes up.
Also, while I'm on the topic of your inaccuracies; I'd like to know when I became a nemesis for you. Now, I realize men like Ace, and Dark Prophet, and Sexy Jason have been there in your storied and lackluster career, but when did my name get added to that. As far as I recall I have victories over you, and they meant nothing to me then, or now. You are a never-was, with dreams of being someone. Your intelligence has you believe you are a threat to anyone on this roster, that they all are your "nemesis" because you see it that way. Well, we are, in a way. We all block your no-talent ass from ascending beyond the trash heap you crawled out of. Now please, listen close to my closing arguments and remember, I'm not your nemesis, just a man who is SMARTER than you, and will BEAT you on Sunday.
****
Back in the classroom, Bates has taken off the professor getup for his usual in-ring attire. He looks like a businessman in a bar fight, if the bar was an upscale establishment with a four-star restaurant attached. He has opened the floor to questions from the class and is taking them like a politician does in town hall meetings, but with less lies and dodging of questions.
"Mr. Bates, do you think Potter has a chance against you at Nothing to Lose?"
"Uh, no, I don't. He will find out Sunday what I have planned for our match, and he'll really enjoy the idea of losing so utterly he'll probably go cry to his mommy in England and ask for tea and crumpets."
"Bates, do you have anything to say to Rob Diamond?"
"Yeah, I do. Why don't you return my calls, bro? I thought we were friends. I mean, you let me sleep in your, uh...nevermind, I don't think you want that one getting out."
The class is beginning to laugh, but he glares at them. Obviously, he's almost let something slip he doesn't want anyone to know. And now Bates is nervous. His guard is down. He begins to pace the room as he calls for the next question.
"Do you think you will be World Champion?"
"One day, after Steve Awesome looks in the mirror and stops loving himself so much to see me creeping up the rankings."
"Will you ever beat Adam Knite?"
"I already have, in a tag match at least once, and possibly a singles match before he was Champion. Next question."
"Mr. Bates, are you gay?"
He stops dead in his tracks, mid-pace. His eyes close tight and he exhales deeply. He is trying to find the answer, he is trying to say no without yelling. He is trying to keep his composure. The man who uttered it, looks a lot like Chad Lights might have if he were younger. Bates can almost hear the taunts of his classmates when he was the poor nerd in High School. The one without a girlfriend, who was too "weird" for many friends outside of the AV club and his Dungeons and Dragons club. His fists ball and he begins to approach the student, his lip quivering.
"I'm not gay."
Bates is calm in his delivery, but he is continuing to approach him. The rest of the class gets up out of their seats at the tables as he sits there, visibly trembling as Bates approaches.
"I'm not gay."
His arm reaches up, the fuse has lit and he is ready to unload.
"I am NOT gay."
He is at the desk, his fist pounds down in front of the student, who visibly pisses himself to the chagrin of the rest of the class. They would laugh if they couldn't feel the tension.
"I AM NOT GAY!"
Bates winds up, his shoulder lighting the punk as the explosive firepower of his fist smashes right across the face of the twenty-something student. Everyone else gets around Bates and begins to try to pull him off as he kicks the student.
"I AM NOT GAY! I AM NOT GAY! I AM NOT GAY!"
He repeats himself, screaming as he locks in the Suffocating Cubicle triangle choke on the poor, helpless individual. The camera goes black as the fifteen or so other individuals all try and pry Bates loose, the student choking and passing out in the submission hold.
Maynard James Keenan
A bell rings and a very disturbed group of twenty-somethings pile into what looks like a classroom. Kristoff Liam Bates is at the front, wearing a lab coat. The chalkboard has "Welcome to Bates' One-Night Course in defeating JackHammer", along with the line "Master of Technical Wrestling, Kristoff Liam Bates." He looks at the crowd of males, all possibly drunk and pulled from a bar.
"Good evening, class."
He points at the chalkboard with a long, slender wooden pointer. Tapping the board for attention.
"May I have your attention please, eyes to the front. Yes. I am Kristoff Bates, and welcome to my one-night course in defeating JackHammer. Or as we all love to call him in nCw, Jobber #2."
A shudder of laughter ripples through the room as Bates takes part in a small chuckle before resuming his "teacher" role. He takes the chalk and writes on the board "Jackhammerus, Idioticus".
"Ok, now who knows what this is?"
A nerdy-looking 19-year old in the back row raises his hand, "JackHammer?"
"And who can tell me what the description for this species of hominid is?"
Another hand, this time from a drunk frat boy, "Uh...he's a giant douchebag?"
"You're right, but you are missing one key component." Bates pulls down the overhead projector screen and puts up a picture of a brain. "You see here, a human brain. In Jackhammerus Idioticus, the majority of this is full of holes and shrunken beyond repair. The largest sector is that of the Amygdala, which is known for irrational behavior and aggression. Also it is the reason people vote Republican."
Another row of laughter runs through the room. Bates beats the pointer on the board to get their silence.
"Now, since he is so unintelligent, I have another question to ask. When, and I must ask you, WHEN, have you ever seen me teach a class before now?"
Everyone raises their hand. He laughs to himself and nods. They all respond with a resounding "Never!"
"Good, good. Now, what, then, is the purpose of making a fool of himself by pretending he was taking over a class I never taught? Anyone? No one? Well I'll answer. It is because he is AFRAID. Afraid of something I have that he doesn't. I have intellect, intelligence, as it were, over him. He is a cro-magnon in the modern times. He is a Neanderthal long beyond his expiration date. He feels intimidated by my skill and intellect, therefore he has to compensate with playing teacher to try and fill that void his personality lacks. Much like a redneck with a small penis who buys a big truck, they do it to impress others for the things they feel insecure about."
All the jocks in the room slink into their seats at the mention of trucks, and the nerdier of the class laugh at them. Bates beats the pointer against the board again to get their attention.
"So, class, is there anything really to learn from this, except how stupid this Neanderthal is?"
They all shake their heads.
"Good, good. Now, on to the next lesson. How to defeat a Giant. Now, as I displayed last week..."
A few jocks in the back laugh, only to get a glare of doom to shut them up.
"As I was SAYING, last week I displayed a very uncommon method of winning. I got my ass beat, to the point of the opponent being disqualified. Now, this is a very non-recommended route and I doubt I will employ it again, but it got me a win over Lex Senseless nonetheless. However, this week, there is the David versus Goliath in the second act, and what does that mean?"
A jock with a cross around his neck raises his hand, "Uh...that means that you have to hit him with a slingshot like the bible, right bro?"
"Uh, no, bro...I don't. I have to use a METAPHORICAL slingshot. In my case, perhaps a jumping CPU Trouble, or knocking out his knees so I can put him in the Suffocating Cubicle. Either way, it works measures to use their height to an advantage. As displayed by the law of Gravity from Sir Isaac Newton, the speed of gravity is nine point eight one meters per second squared. Thus, if I ascend seven feet into the air, or approximately two point two meters, I will exert a force..."
Bates is boring the jocks, but keeps the nerds on their seats with the technical details. He is writing a diagram on the board of Hammer and the height of his head to the mat. He writes a few numbers and begins to do math as he continues to speak.
"Of the weight of his head, multiplied by the distance to the ground over the acceleration of gravity, which accounts for approximately two seconds of travel time, to result in a net force of twelve Newtons onto the skull of JackHammer, which would produce, among other things, a concussion or temporary loss of consciousness."
The jocks all yawn, and Bates raps the pointer violently.
"Alright, I'll break for fifteen so you idiots can go get coffee to wake you up from your drunken slumbers."
****
So, Hammer, where do you get off? I mean, seriously. You believe you can ignore my personality and traits for some rehash of a "great moment" you had imagined me doing. I am no teacher, though I have a college education. I have an MBA, if you even know what that is. It is an accounting degree, which a lot of business executives, accountants, and financial advisers have. I was the last of those, and lost my job to a Punjab who could do what I did for half the cost, and a simple interpreter in the bundle. I'm glad I'm here, though, I get to show idiots like you that two plus two does actually equal four...instead of three due to the lack of concentration you have and inability to count over three.
Seriously, Hammer, what is your problem? You have a personality defect predispositioned to violence and aggression with lots of alcoholism toward anyone and everyone around you. You fly off the handle, you attack security, and you drink...heavily. You are also a big man, so you probably have the Mark Calloway reflex of thinking due to your size, you are ultimately given the ability to do what you please. This is where you are wrong, subhuman trash. If my victories over Gib have shown you nothing, the big usually fall harder, and they are just as easy to beat as the equal or small. It is all a matter of strategy and technique. Without those, you cannot win ANY match. But you don't know about winning. You don't do it much. So don't get your hopes up.
Also, while I'm on the topic of your inaccuracies; I'd like to know when I became a nemesis for you. Now, I realize men like Ace, and Dark Prophet, and Sexy Jason have been there in your storied and lackluster career, but when did my name get added to that. As far as I recall I have victories over you, and they meant nothing to me then, or now. You are a never-was, with dreams of being someone. Your intelligence has you believe you are a threat to anyone on this roster, that they all are your "nemesis" because you see it that way. Well, we are, in a way. We all block your no-talent ass from ascending beyond the trash heap you crawled out of. Now please, listen close to my closing arguments and remember, I'm not your nemesis, just a man who is SMARTER than you, and will BEAT you on Sunday.
****
Back in the classroom, Bates has taken off the professor getup for his usual in-ring attire. He looks like a businessman in a bar fight, if the bar was an upscale establishment with a four-star restaurant attached. He has opened the floor to questions from the class and is taking them like a politician does in town hall meetings, but with less lies and dodging of questions.
"Mr. Bates, do you think Potter has a chance against you at Nothing to Lose?"
"Uh, no, I don't. He will find out Sunday what I have planned for our match, and he'll really enjoy the idea of losing so utterly he'll probably go cry to his mommy in England and ask for tea and crumpets."
"Bates, do you have anything to say to Rob Diamond?"
"Yeah, I do. Why don't you return my calls, bro? I thought we were friends. I mean, you let me sleep in your, uh...nevermind, I don't think you want that one getting out."
The class is beginning to laugh, but he glares at them. Obviously, he's almost let something slip he doesn't want anyone to know. And now Bates is nervous. His guard is down. He begins to pace the room as he calls for the next question.
"Do you think you will be World Champion?"
"One day, after Steve Awesome looks in the mirror and stops loving himself so much to see me creeping up the rankings."
"Will you ever beat Adam Knite?"
"I already have, in a tag match at least once, and possibly a singles match before he was Champion. Next question."
"Mr. Bates, are you gay?"
He stops dead in his tracks, mid-pace. His eyes close tight and he exhales deeply. He is trying to find the answer, he is trying to say no without yelling. He is trying to keep his composure. The man who uttered it, looks a lot like Chad Lights might have if he were younger. Bates can almost hear the taunts of his classmates when he was the poor nerd in High School. The one without a girlfriend, who was too "weird" for many friends outside of the AV club and his Dungeons and Dragons club. His fists ball and he begins to approach the student, his lip quivering.
"I'm not gay."
Bates is calm in his delivery, but he is continuing to approach him. The rest of the class gets up out of their seats at the tables as he sits there, visibly trembling as Bates approaches.
"I'm not gay."
His arm reaches up, the fuse has lit and he is ready to unload.
"I am NOT gay."
He is at the desk, his fist pounds down in front of the student, who visibly pisses himself to the chagrin of the rest of the class. They would laugh if they couldn't feel the tension.
"I AM NOT GAY!"
Bates winds up, his shoulder lighting the punk as the explosive firepower of his fist smashes right across the face of the twenty-something student. Everyone else gets around Bates and begins to try to pull him off as he kicks the student.
"I AM NOT GAY! I AM NOT GAY! I AM NOT GAY!"
He repeats himself, screaming as he locks in the Suffocating Cubicle triangle choke on the poor, helpless individual. The camera goes black as the fifteen or so other individuals all try and pry Bates loose, the student choking and passing out in the submission hold.