Post by Curtis D. Kanyon on Mar 26, 2010 20:15:45 GMT -6
*Dear reader...no wait...viewer? Wrestling enthusiast? Whatever the heck you are! We see Dirty Deal still traversing the arena for our upcoming PPV.*
Ron: I can't believe I was gonna block this off! You see all this stuff?
*Curtis picks up a pipe.*
Curtis: Yeah. I'm glad our match is xtreme rules. If there's anything I love more than kicking ass, it's kicking ass with no limits. And trust me, I will have no limits kicking there clowny asses all over the ring. We've had this air around us since those freaks cost us our belts. This cloud of bad luck or something. I just...I feel that when we beat the hell out of these guys, that cloud goes away. It has to. We're Dirty Deal! We kick ass. We kick tons and tons of ass. We can beat these punk bitches on our worst day, I know it.
Ron: I know it.
Russell: I know it.
Curtis: Yeah, you better know. Well my plan, is to make sure luck plays absolutely no factor in this match.
*Curtis tosses the pipe and looks over a 2x4. Ron looks pleased. Bu then he spots something out of the corner of his eye and pulls out a barbedwire 2x4!*
Ron: I love wrestling arenas. All the good stuff is within reach.
Curtis: Oh yeah, that's good. That works for the plan. You see, we're not going to let luck play a factor, because we're going to beat Magically Delicious until they can't move. I mean bash there brains in until they don't have a pulse. Make sure they can't move. I don't mean the kind of don't move like after some really hot and furious sex when you just collapse and don't want to move. No, I mean, literally, beaten to holy hell so that they cannot move, they cannot breathe, they cannot even think. I'm talking dead. That is the kind of pissed off I am at these two.
Ron: Honestly, they don't deserve it. They are so pissant that they don't deserve to be Kruegered, except for the fact that they screwd us of our belts.
Curtis: And threw us in the garbage.
Ron: Oh yeah, hated that too.
Russell: I would.
Ron: Yeah, he would, wouldn't he Curt?
Curtis: You know Ron, I think you're right.
*Ron starts stalking Russell with the barbwire 2x4.*
Russell: Hey now.
*Russell backs up into Curtis and turns around. Curtis grabs him and back body drops him into the nearby dumpster.*
Russell: WHY!? THIS IS GROSS!
Ron: You want to hang with Dirty Deal, you must feel our pain!
Curtis: FEEL IT RUSSELL! Feel it! You had your ugly mug slapped on that crappy picture too!
Ron: The worst atrocity of that was his head was on a white man's body.
Curtis: Just wrong.
Ron: Heretic really.
Curtis: He is voodoo after all. ****ing voodoo? That "magic" hasn't been relevant in decades. Possibly even hundreds of years! I mean, you know something is pretty wuss when Disney makes a movie about it. You think you're smack talk was funny? Why don't you do something comical funny man? MAKE US LAUGH YOU PUDGY FACED CLOWN BOY! Because all I got was a lame duck trying not to act like a lame duck. Trying to be hip and dropping names left and right. We're Dirty Deal, we roll deep with the best of the best, but we're the best of the best of the best, so we don't need to "name drop."
Ron: Because our faces are bigger than any name we could mention.
*Russell tries to climb out of the garbage and Curtis pie faces him back in.*
Curtis: I can understand one thing Hexx is saying. He doesn't want to be a joke. His team wants to be taken seriously! GOOD FOR THEM! They picked the best damn team to pick a fight with. Problem is, we're too high on the food chain. They picked a fight with there eyes that their fists can't win. We're going to bash there brains in.
*Ron finds a table. Smacks it to make sure it's durable.*
Ron: Yeah, this might work.
Curtis: We're going to break there bones. No doctors, voodoo or real, will be able to help them. We're going to beat them, then we're going to destroy them, then we're going to turn them into pulp, and then, when everyone things it should be over, when the ref wants to ring the bell...we add a dash of RAZZLE DAZZLE!
Ron: Razzle dazzle?
Curtis: Razzle dazzle! No chance of luck. None. No way they walk out of the arena. We end them and their pathetic tag team existence. They will finally be taken seriously...in the intensive care unit.
Ron: **** yeah.
*Ron grabs the table and Curtis picks up the 2x4.*
Curtis: This is going to be fun.
*Curtis and Ron walk off. Russell finally starts to make his way out of the dumpster as the scene fades out.*
Ron: I can't believe I was gonna block this off! You see all this stuff?
*Curtis picks up a pipe.*
Curtis: Yeah. I'm glad our match is xtreme rules. If there's anything I love more than kicking ass, it's kicking ass with no limits. And trust me, I will have no limits kicking there clowny asses all over the ring. We've had this air around us since those freaks cost us our belts. This cloud of bad luck or something. I just...I feel that when we beat the hell out of these guys, that cloud goes away. It has to. We're Dirty Deal! We kick ass. We kick tons and tons of ass. We can beat these punk bitches on our worst day, I know it.
Ron: I know it.
Russell: I know it.
Curtis: Yeah, you better know. Well my plan, is to make sure luck plays absolutely no factor in this match.
*Curtis tosses the pipe and looks over a 2x4. Ron looks pleased. Bu then he spots something out of the corner of his eye and pulls out a barbedwire 2x4!*
Ron: I love wrestling arenas. All the good stuff is within reach.
Curtis: Oh yeah, that's good. That works for the plan. You see, we're not going to let luck play a factor, because we're going to beat Magically Delicious until they can't move. I mean bash there brains in until they don't have a pulse. Make sure they can't move. I don't mean the kind of don't move like after some really hot and furious sex when you just collapse and don't want to move. No, I mean, literally, beaten to holy hell so that they cannot move, they cannot breathe, they cannot even think. I'm talking dead. That is the kind of pissed off I am at these two.
Ron: Honestly, they don't deserve it. They are so pissant that they don't deserve to be Kruegered, except for the fact that they screwd us of our belts.
Curtis: And threw us in the garbage.
Ron: Oh yeah, hated that too.
Russell: I would.
Ron: Yeah, he would, wouldn't he Curt?
Curtis: You know Ron, I think you're right.
*Ron starts stalking Russell with the barbwire 2x4.*
Russell: Hey now.
*Russell backs up into Curtis and turns around. Curtis grabs him and back body drops him into the nearby dumpster.*
Russell: WHY!? THIS IS GROSS!
Ron: You want to hang with Dirty Deal, you must feel our pain!
Curtis: FEEL IT RUSSELL! Feel it! You had your ugly mug slapped on that crappy picture too!
Ron: The worst atrocity of that was his head was on a white man's body.
Curtis: Just wrong.
Ron: Heretic really.
Curtis: He is voodoo after all. ****ing voodoo? That "magic" hasn't been relevant in decades. Possibly even hundreds of years! I mean, you know something is pretty wuss when Disney makes a movie about it. You think you're smack talk was funny? Why don't you do something comical funny man? MAKE US LAUGH YOU PUDGY FACED CLOWN BOY! Because all I got was a lame duck trying not to act like a lame duck. Trying to be hip and dropping names left and right. We're Dirty Deal, we roll deep with the best of the best, but we're the best of the best of the best, so we don't need to "name drop."
Ron: Because our faces are bigger than any name we could mention.
*Russell tries to climb out of the garbage and Curtis pie faces him back in.*
Curtis: I can understand one thing Hexx is saying. He doesn't want to be a joke. His team wants to be taken seriously! GOOD FOR THEM! They picked the best damn team to pick a fight with. Problem is, we're too high on the food chain. They picked a fight with there eyes that their fists can't win. We're going to bash there brains in.
*Ron finds a table. Smacks it to make sure it's durable.*
Ron: Yeah, this might work.
Curtis: We're going to break there bones. No doctors, voodoo or real, will be able to help them. We're going to beat them, then we're going to destroy them, then we're going to turn them into pulp, and then, when everyone things it should be over, when the ref wants to ring the bell...we add a dash of RAZZLE DAZZLE!
Ron: Razzle dazzle?
Curtis: Razzle dazzle! No chance of luck. None. No way they walk out of the arena. We end them and their pathetic tag team existence. They will finally be taken seriously...in the intensive care unit.
Ron: **** yeah.
*Ron grabs the table and Curtis picks up the 2x4.*
Curtis: This is going to be fun.
*Curtis and Ron walk off. Russell finally starts to make his way out of the dumpster as the scene fades out.*