Post by Jayson Matthews on Jul 10, 2010 3:22:19 GMT -6
“I knew I should have taken that left turn at Albuquerque.”
A drowse Jayson Matthews scans a road map as he sits in the driver seat of a Toyota. He reaches over and starts shaking his passenger.
“Johnny! Wake up dude!”
The bearded one barely even moves. Instead he just groans and mumbles.
“Why Miss Berry….I had no idea you’d be naked…”
And then he rolls over and falls back to sleep. Jayson just sighs before chugging the last few gulps of the energizing triple shot expresso. He taps the bottom to make sure he got every last drop and then he chucked the Styrofoam cup right at Johnny’s head. Rotten suddenly snorts awake and glances around himself in a sleepy haze.
“Hey…..I was wondering when you were going to get up!”
He gives a little yawn and stretch.
“I’ve been driving for hours, I think it’s time you took the wheel.”
“Okay you little pansy. You know, when I was a roadie for Motley Crue I had to drive all the way to the next show and I didn’t get a break.”
Johnny takes a glance around the area.
“Where the hell are we anyway?”
Jayson glances at his map.
“Map says were at the Burger Lair, but I‘m not sure what that is or-.”
“Give me that map!”
Johnny snatches it out of Jayson’s hand and it only took one glance before he was glaring down at Jayson with his “How can one person be so damn retarded?” look.
“This….”
He raises the map and points at it with his finger.
“…is a BURGER KING PLACEMAT!”
Jayson slaps his own forehead.
“That explains why the maze was so dang hard!”
Johnny reaches into his dusty jeans and pulls out a pack of Marlboros and sparks one up in pure frustration. He stays silent, until he notices a nearby restaurant in the reflection of the window.
“Okay. For starters….you’re an idiot! Secondly, we’re going to go into that bar and ask directions so we can get to the show and beat the holy hell out of army boy and his flying corpse friend.”
Jayson is still looking at the “map”.
“I don’t know dude. I’m thinking we should look into to this Burger Lair thing….might be pretty cool.”
Johnny grabs the Burger king placemat, crumbles it up and throws it out the window. He gives Jayson a stern look at points toward the Restaurant.
“Let’s go!”
The two get out of the car and head toward the restaurant, meanwhile the camera pans the opposite direction. In the bushes you can see The King holding a unloading a shotgun clip.
“Smart move….”
He opens up the door to the lair and darts inside.
“So what’s it gonna be boys?”
Johnny Rotten and Jayson Matthews stand side by side in front of the Front Office logo. Johnny spits some chewing tobacco into an old pop bottle as he glares into the camera.
“You going to come flying in here with the jokes or what? Talk about how we got beat by NAZI last year?”
“It was a fluke!”
“Make fun of my beard or any one of my many…many vices that plague and haunt my life? Tell the kid how retarded he is? Make fun of him because he never past the tenth grade or laugh at him because he still likes The power rangers?”
“I TOLD YOU NOT TO TELL ANYONE!”
Jayson buries his head in his palms.
“You going to make some joke about how we never wrestle and most of the times when we do we get out asses kicked. Or the strange reason why a grown man would form a tag team with a dumb twenty year old kid from the suburbs?”
Jayson’s lips curl in disgust.
“Don’t worry people. Johnny isn’t like Falcon!”
A nun walking a group of school girls with balloons gasps and stops in her tracks.
“No. I said he isn’t Falcon.”
That clears the air and the nun and her children keep on walking.
“Or are you just thinking to yourself…words are for pussies. And your going to walk into Picture Perfect, all guns blazing and ready and willing to whip our asses and retain the nCw Tag Team Titles.”
He spits another glob of black gook into the cup and then looks back up at the camera.
“If that’s the case….maybe there’s a bit more to you two asshats then I might have originally thought. I still think your both equivalent to one of those giant hefty bags filled to the top with Andrew Jacobsen and Joe Everyman’s used porn rags. But maybe there’s hope for you…but you know…I won’t hold my breath or anything.”
“But really, it don’t matter which way you go. Wether you continue to prove what a giant douche bag you are or you act like you got some sense it don’t matter because come this Sunday…..you’re the one with everything to prove WashingKline. You’re the ones who have to defend those freshly won tag team titles against a team that defeated you soundly in the middle of the ring. Were the one’s that knocked the great and almighty gladiator down a few pegs. Were the team with nothing to lose and everything to gain. If we lose, we go back to being nobody’s and lackey’s to Steve Awesome and his crazy love sick fantasy life. We lose, and everyone in the crowd pats there buddy on the shoulder and smirks and says, Hey..I told you so. But if you lose…..well you just lost to a couple of lackeys. Just a couple of has been, never was’s that do the dirty work for a fifty year old man and his cabana boy. We already did it once. Remember? One solid boot right between the eyes and it was lights out. We beat you one more time and we take all the credibility that you claim to have and we toss it right out the window in front of a sold out Omaha crowd.”
Jayson scratches his head.
“How many people actually live in Omaha?”
Johnny thinks it through.
“Okay…so that’s only like a hundred people tops, but you get the point.”
Jayson leans in closer to the camera.
“He’s trying to tell you that everyone will find out that you suck.”
Johnny nods his head and points toward his brain.
“So try to act like you got some sense army boy.”
“KA-PLOW bitches!”
Fade.
A drowse Jayson Matthews scans a road map as he sits in the driver seat of a Toyota. He reaches over and starts shaking his passenger.
“Johnny! Wake up dude!”
The bearded one barely even moves. Instead he just groans and mumbles.
“Why Miss Berry….I had no idea you’d be naked…”
And then he rolls over and falls back to sleep. Jayson just sighs before chugging the last few gulps of the energizing triple shot expresso. He taps the bottom to make sure he got every last drop and then he chucked the Styrofoam cup right at Johnny’s head. Rotten suddenly snorts awake and glances around himself in a sleepy haze.
“Hey…..I was wondering when you were going to get up!”
He gives a little yawn and stretch.
“I’ve been driving for hours, I think it’s time you took the wheel.”
“Okay you little pansy. You know, when I was a roadie for Motley Crue I had to drive all the way to the next show and I didn’t get a break.”
Johnny takes a glance around the area.
“Where the hell are we anyway?”
Jayson glances at his map.
“Map says were at the Burger Lair, but I‘m not sure what that is or-.”
“Give me that map!”
Johnny snatches it out of Jayson’s hand and it only took one glance before he was glaring down at Jayson with his “How can one person be so damn retarded?” look.
“This….”
He raises the map and points at it with his finger.
“…is a BURGER KING PLACEMAT!”
Jayson slaps his own forehead.
“That explains why the maze was so dang hard!”
Johnny reaches into his dusty jeans and pulls out a pack of Marlboros and sparks one up in pure frustration. He stays silent, until he notices a nearby restaurant in the reflection of the window.
“Okay. For starters….you’re an idiot! Secondly, we’re going to go into that bar and ask directions so we can get to the show and beat the holy hell out of army boy and his flying corpse friend.”
Jayson is still looking at the “map”.
“I don’t know dude. I’m thinking we should look into to this Burger Lair thing….might be pretty cool.”
Johnny grabs the Burger king placemat, crumbles it up and throws it out the window. He gives Jayson a stern look at points toward the Restaurant.
“Let’s go!”
The two get out of the car and head toward the restaurant, meanwhile the camera pans the opposite direction. In the bushes you can see The King holding a unloading a shotgun clip.
“Smart move….”
He opens up the door to the lair and darts inside.
“So what’s it gonna be boys?”
Johnny Rotten and Jayson Matthews stand side by side in front of the Front Office logo. Johnny spits some chewing tobacco into an old pop bottle as he glares into the camera.
“You going to come flying in here with the jokes or what? Talk about how we got beat by NAZI last year?”
“It was a fluke!”
“Make fun of my beard or any one of my many…many vices that plague and haunt my life? Tell the kid how retarded he is? Make fun of him because he never past the tenth grade or laugh at him because he still likes The power rangers?”
“I TOLD YOU NOT TO TELL ANYONE!”
Jayson buries his head in his palms.
“You going to make some joke about how we never wrestle and most of the times when we do we get out asses kicked. Or the strange reason why a grown man would form a tag team with a dumb twenty year old kid from the suburbs?”
Jayson’s lips curl in disgust.
“Don’t worry people. Johnny isn’t like Falcon!”
A nun walking a group of school girls with balloons gasps and stops in her tracks.
“No. I said he isn’t Falcon.”
That clears the air and the nun and her children keep on walking.
“Or are you just thinking to yourself…words are for pussies. And your going to walk into Picture Perfect, all guns blazing and ready and willing to whip our asses and retain the nCw Tag Team Titles.”
He spits another glob of black gook into the cup and then looks back up at the camera.
“If that’s the case….maybe there’s a bit more to you two asshats then I might have originally thought. I still think your both equivalent to one of those giant hefty bags filled to the top with Andrew Jacobsen and Joe Everyman’s used porn rags. But maybe there’s hope for you…but you know…I won’t hold my breath or anything.”
“But really, it don’t matter which way you go. Wether you continue to prove what a giant douche bag you are or you act like you got some sense it don’t matter because come this Sunday…..you’re the one with everything to prove WashingKline. You’re the ones who have to defend those freshly won tag team titles against a team that defeated you soundly in the middle of the ring. Were the one’s that knocked the great and almighty gladiator down a few pegs. Were the team with nothing to lose and everything to gain. If we lose, we go back to being nobody’s and lackey’s to Steve Awesome and his crazy love sick fantasy life. We lose, and everyone in the crowd pats there buddy on the shoulder and smirks and says, Hey..I told you so. But if you lose…..well you just lost to a couple of lackeys. Just a couple of has been, never was’s that do the dirty work for a fifty year old man and his cabana boy. We already did it once. Remember? One solid boot right between the eyes and it was lights out. We beat you one more time and we take all the credibility that you claim to have and we toss it right out the window in front of a sold out Omaha crowd.”
Jayson scratches his head.
“How many people actually live in Omaha?”
Johnny thinks it through.
“Okay…so that’s only like a hundred people tops, but you get the point.”
Jayson leans in closer to the camera.
“He’s trying to tell you that everyone will find out that you suck.”
Johnny nods his head and points toward his brain.
“So try to act like you got some sense army boy.”
“KA-PLOW bitches!”
Fade.