Post by Ron Gibson on Aug 12, 2010 23:03:12 GMT -6
*We open up today inside the companies building. Ron Gibson walks around wearing a young gun t-shirt with suit jacket over it. On one shoulder he has doc's tag team title and on the venom's. He struts around the office area. As he turns the corner, walking into the office area. The light from the big ass company windows shine off the titles and blinds everyone. They stumble over knocking little kids out, seeing as it's bring your bastard kid to work day. One guy nearly falls out an open window. Why the company window is open? Who knows.*
Ron: HEY!!! I have to return these to the rightful owners. Keeping those big ass windows open is causing dust to attract to them. SHUTTERS!!! We need big ass window shutters now.
*Everyone just blindly stares at him. He walks up to the huge ass windows, as the titles drop from his shoulders.*
Ron: SHUTTERS!!!! To block the evil sunlight that is coming through. Am I right brother?
*Ron nudging a black man that works in the office*
Ron: You don't like the sunlight. The sunlight is not kind to you. Everyone sitting here is going to get skin cancer. Then our company is going to be sued. Someone seriously close these windows up. Look at this brother, he's turning an even darker shade of black. This can't be good for him. It's like africa in here for him.
*Ron picks up the titles but shouts in pain. As it burns his right hand. He tosses it to the ground.*
Ron: AAAAHHHHHHH That hurt. Stupid pieces of crap. Someone honestly fix this now, else I'm going to fire someone. You....
*Ron points to a spanish employee. Realizes it's wrong and quickly moves his hand to the fat woman instead.*
Ron: The hardest work I seen you do pushing the elevator button. The thing is we're only on the 10th floor. Walk much? Come on baby, you would be a 7 in my book if you just wiped the sweat from under your breasts. But I'm guessing Your fingers don't move unless it's an attempt to grab the last bearclaw. MOVE... DO SOMETHING!!!! Install my shutters because I'm too hot to think about my match this sunday. I'm not even sure who I'm facing.... memory is fading.... IT'S SO DAMN HOT!!!!! Am I right paco? How do you people mow the grass all day without falling over from heat stroke?
Paco: my name isn't paco.
Ron: Oh.... Who the hell am I facing sunday?
*Amber pops out from under one of the desks.*
Ron: DAMNIT AMBER!!! Don't work on the ncw employees. You know this ****ty job is all they have. Working for a guy like leo. Making a guy like me look good, when I'm not. I'm just kissing ass and trying to have my job secured for years to come.
Amber: Are you alright?
Ron: I'm hot... heat exhaustion. I think I'm going to keel over. Damnit.... the sun is ruining me. Making me look like a weak man. HEY!!!!
Amber: I think we need to shut the windows.
Jose: Why? I'm not hot.
*The fat woman stuffing food down her mouth and wiping away the sweat from her breasts. Speaks up.*
Fat Woman: I think he's just nuts.
Amber: Ron... did you take any funny pills? Did you drink something you shouldn't be drinking?
Ron: NO!!!!!!!!! I was however drinking some of that mexicans water earlier. Could it be that? Did he poison me with his liquid hate for me? HUH!!!! PACO!
Jose: It's jose. No, I did nothing to you.
Amber: Let me ask you something hun. Why are you carrying around two lether belts on your shoulder.
Ron: Leather? Solid gold. The young guns lent me them. They allowed me to feel successful again, just so I would be tip top shape this week. I think it's working.
Amber: ....I think success has gone to your head. We need to get a doctor here as soon as possible.
Ron: I don't need a doctor. I need to fight. The hollands? Yeah... that's who's coming to the ring this week. They don't belong on ppv with A-list talent like the young guns with ron gibson. This is where we shine, this is where they shine and I tag along for the ride. Too give them advice because they know just how much knowledge I store in this head of mine. Sure the hollands beat me last time.... but that is the last time. Two weeks ago is old news, ncw fans forgot that easily. Plus, I have called my mulligan for good reason. So even if someone like them wants to throw it in my face. Sunday will pretty much erase all the bragging.
Go back into a two year isolation guys, no one needs you. This company strives without you. I'll even bring your contracts sunday. We can sign off on a legal termination. You guys can be on your ways to a brighter future. Headlining shows where you just show up and sign autographs. And not show up to piss me off. It's better this way. The young guns would agree.... Right Venom?
*Ron stares at an employee named vince. Who just stares at him.*
Ron: He's shy right now. I wouldn't have thought you would be shy. Doc how about you?
Amber: Neither of them are here right now.
Ron: He's right there..... why is it so hot in here? Why are you hot amber? Give me a kiss baby.....
*Ron kisses some woman's baby on the cheek.*
Ron: WOW!!!!!!!! Amazing.... I just want to feint right now from all this. Maybe then I can wake up and the hollands will still be in florida, sitting on their retirement pensions. Not worrying about coming into my ring and hurting seniors.
*Amber paces around, as a doctor finally comes. He brings ron into his small crampy office. Lays him down on his desk and exams him.*
Doctor: Oh... this isn't good. This isn't good at all. Your friend mr. gibson has some serious symptoms right now.
Ron: Doc... you won't have to amputate my penis will you?
Doctor: .....You see mrs ashe. Your friend hasn't won a match in weeks. Maybe even longer if you count partners getting the pin instead of him. The only way he's going to get better now....
Amber: Better before sunday?
Doctor: Well.... he needs a large dose of success in his life quick. Else his drive to bonkers will continue. I think we can give him a quick little bump here.
Amber: A shot?
Doctor: No... Lottery ticket.
Amber: Lottery?
Ron: LOTTERY TICKET!!!! GIVE ME!!!!
*Ron grabs it from the doctors hand. Scratches off one pot of gold.*
Ron: OOOOOH.... GOLD COINS!!! Two more gold coins and I win.
*Ron scratches off another pot of gold and reveals more gold coins. Amber is getting excited. The doctor is getting annoyed and he reaches in his pocket for a syringe. Ron scratches off the last pot of gold to reveal....**
Ron: A ****ING LEPRECHAUN!!!!! That little bitch stoled my gold.
Amber: Did that help him?
Doctor: I'm afraid not. I can give him a shot though. It should give him atleast alittle boost for the ppv. So he doesn't beat on anything that looks at him strange.
Amber: .....That might be a good thing.
Doctor: Too late.
*Ron leaps up and looks at his shoulders. He takes the leather belts down slowly and stares at amber. He walks out of the office and everyone just looks at him. Ron scratches his head.*
Ron: Them hollands are going to die. Andrew Jacobsen? He's going wish I finish that beatdown on collision. If it wasn't for these two assholes getting involved. Throwing around their seniority and forcing the match maker to give in. I could be fighting for the world championship on sunday.
Doctors: Seems to be wearing off already.
Amber: No... he always thinks that.
Doctors: Ah... so all is fine then.
Ron: I'm not going to color code it for you people can see it easier. I'm not going to give it a candy flavor, so it goes down your throats with pleasure. The Hollands retirement tour ends sunday night, when their bus flies off the cliff and brings down everyone who has been nibbling on their ****.
They.... will.... DIE!!!!!! Because they lack the talent of a front office ran team. They lack the motivation of get it done... any means necessary. We will take all the risk for what little reward there is. Hell... all I'm looking for is just alittle success. Hear me god, just alittle success. You ignorant prick!
*Ron looks up at god and smiles at him with disgust. We fade out, as he shakes his angry fist at him*
Ron: HEY!!! I have to return these to the rightful owners. Keeping those big ass windows open is causing dust to attract to them. SHUTTERS!!! We need big ass window shutters now.
*Everyone just blindly stares at him. He walks up to the huge ass windows, as the titles drop from his shoulders.*
Ron: SHUTTERS!!!! To block the evil sunlight that is coming through. Am I right brother?
*Ron nudging a black man that works in the office*
Ron: You don't like the sunlight. The sunlight is not kind to you. Everyone sitting here is going to get skin cancer. Then our company is going to be sued. Someone seriously close these windows up. Look at this brother, he's turning an even darker shade of black. This can't be good for him. It's like africa in here for him.
*Ron picks up the titles but shouts in pain. As it burns his right hand. He tosses it to the ground.*
Ron: AAAAHHHHHHH That hurt. Stupid pieces of crap. Someone honestly fix this now, else I'm going to fire someone. You....
*Ron points to a spanish employee. Realizes it's wrong and quickly moves his hand to the fat woman instead.*
Ron: The hardest work I seen you do pushing the elevator button. The thing is we're only on the 10th floor. Walk much? Come on baby, you would be a 7 in my book if you just wiped the sweat from under your breasts. But I'm guessing Your fingers don't move unless it's an attempt to grab the last bearclaw. MOVE... DO SOMETHING!!!! Install my shutters because I'm too hot to think about my match this sunday. I'm not even sure who I'm facing.... memory is fading.... IT'S SO DAMN HOT!!!!! Am I right paco? How do you people mow the grass all day without falling over from heat stroke?
Paco: my name isn't paco.
Ron: Oh.... Who the hell am I facing sunday?
*Amber pops out from under one of the desks.*
Ron: DAMNIT AMBER!!! Don't work on the ncw employees. You know this ****ty job is all they have. Working for a guy like leo. Making a guy like me look good, when I'm not. I'm just kissing ass and trying to have my job secured for years to come.
Amber: Are you alright?
Ron: I'm hot... heat exhaustion. I think I'm going to keel over. Damnit.... the sun is ruining me. Making me look like a weak man. HEY!!!!
Amber: I think we need to shut the windows.
Jose: Why? I'm not hot.
*The fat woman stuffing food down her mouth and wiping away the sweat from her breasts. Speaks up.*
Fat Woman: I think he's just nuts.
Amber: Ron... did you take any funny pills? Did you drink something you shouldn't be drinking?
Ron: NO!!!!!!!!! I was however drinking some of that mexicans water earlier. Could it be that? Did he poison me with his liquid hate for me? HUH!!!! PACO!
Jose: It's jose. No, I did nothing to you.
Amber: Let me ask you something hun. Why are you carrying around two lether belts on your shoulder.
Ron: Leather? Solid gold. The young guns lent me them. They allowed me to feel successful again, just so I would be tip top shape this week. I think it's working.
Amber: ....I think success has gone to your head. We need to get a doctor here as soon as possible.
Ron: I don't need a doctor. I need to fight. The hollands? Yeah... that's who's coming to the ring this week. They don't belong on ppv with A-list talent like the young guns with ron gibson. This is where we shine, this is where they shine and I tag along for the ride. Too give them advice because they know just how much knowledge I store in this head of mine. Sure the hollands beat me last time.... but that is the last time. Two weeks ago is old news, ncw fans forgot that easily. Plus, I have called my mulligan for good reason. So even if someone like them wants to throw it in my face. Sunday will pretty much erase all the bragging.
Go back into a two year isolation guys, no one needs you. This company strives without you. I'll even bring your contracts sunday. We can sign off on a legal termination. You guys can be on your ways to a brighter future. Headlining shows where you just show up and sign autographs. And not show up to piss me off. It's better this way. The young guns would agree.... Right Venom?
*Ron stares at an employee named vince. Who just stares at him.*
Ron: He's shy right now. I wouldn't have thought you would be shy. Doc how about you?
Amber: Neither of them are here right now.
Ron: He's right there..... why is it so hot in here? Why are you hot amber? Give me a kiss baby.....
*Ron kisses some woman's baby on the cheek.*
Ron: WOW!!!!!!!! Amazing.... I just want to feint right now from all this. Maybe then I can wake up and the hollands will still be in florida, sitting on their retirement pensions. Not worrying about coming into my ring and hurting seniors.
*Amber paces around, as a doctor finally comes. He brings ron into his small crampy office. Lays him down on his desk and exams him.*
Doctor: Oh... this isn't good. This isn't good at all. Your friend mr. gibson has some serious symptoms right now.
Ron: Doc... you won't have to amputate my penis will you?
Doctor: .....You see mrs ashe. Your friend hasn't won a match in weeks. Maybe even longer if you count partners getting the pin instead of him. The only way he's going to get better now....
Amber: Better before sunday?
Doctor: Well.... he needs a large dose of success in his life quick. Else his drive to bonkers will continue. I think we can give him a quick little bump here.
Amber: A shot?
Doctor: No... Lottery ticket.
Amber: Lottery?
Ron: LOTTERY TICKET!!!! GIVE ME!!!!
*Ron grabs it from the doctors hand. Scratches off one pot of gold.*
Ron: OOOOOH.... GOLD COINS!!! Two more gold coins and I win.
*Ron scratches off another pot of gold and reveals more gold coins. Amber is getting excited. The doctor is getting annoyed and he reaches in his pocket for a syringe. Ron scratches off the last pot of gold to reveal....**
Ron: A ****ING LEPRECHAUN!!!!! That little bitch stoled my gold.
Amber: Did that help him?
Doctor: I'm afraid not. I can give him a shot though. It should give him atleast alittle boost for the ppv. So he doesn't beat on anything that looks at him strange.
Amber: .....That might be a good thing.
Doctor: Too late.
*Ron leaps up and looks at his shoulders. He takes the leather belts down slowly and stares at amber. He walks out of the office and everyone just looks at him. Ron scratches his head.*
Ron: Them hollands are going to die. Andrew Jacobsen? He's going wish I finish that beatdown on collision. If it wasn't for these two assholes getting involved. Throwing around their seniority and forcing the match maker to give in. I could be fighting for the world championship on sunday.
Doctors: Seems to be wearing off already.
Amber: No... he always thinks that.
Doctors: Ah... so all is fine then.
Ron: I'm not going to color code it for you people can see it easier. I'm not going to give it a candy flavor, so it goes down your throats with pleasure. The Hollands retirement tour ends sunday night, when their bus flies off the cliff and brings down everyone who has been nibbling on their ****.
They.... will.... DIE!!!!!! Because they lack the talent of a front office ran team. They lack the motivation of get it done... any means necessary. We will take all the risk for what little reward there is. Hell... all I'm looking for is just alittle success. Hear me god, just alittle success. You ignorant prick!
*Ron looks up at god and smiles at him with disgust. We fade out, as he shakes his angry fist at him*