Post by Jimmy Zane on Oct 29, 2011 23:09:21 GMT -6
[This has just turned into a weird situation, hasn't it? I mean seriously. Babaloo has talked Jimmy into testing his wanna be time machine that he built out of a freaking Pinto? It has more problems than you could ever list in a million years!
Barely Runs!
Muffler is rusted through!
It has to get to 88 Miles Per Hour?
I got twenty bucks that says that piece of **** don't get to 44 miles per hour, going downhill, pedal the medal, with nitrous! That ****box will be lucky to make it to the end of the block. But hey, this should make for some exhiliarating television, right? I know I will be glued to the set for the next episode. Because honestly, this can't be good!
OH LOOK!
Ricky Johnson finally came out from under his rock to grace us with his presence. You know I would buy for a dollar? A freaking muzzle for that dog ugly wife of his. I would also buy a muzzle for him, or at least a dictionary and a thesaurus so he can come up with something a bit more intelligent than "I am gonna beat you up bad!"
Ricky! Dude...
You sound like the bully in elementary school! Next thing you know you are going to be telling Jimmy to meet you at the bike rack at 3:30. It's obvious that you aren't into this match one bit. You don't care, and that's fine. But at least pretend, will ya? Either look like you are happy to be on the Pay Per View, or don't show up. You are just making everyone else look bad. Just make sure you come to terms with a few simple facts that everyone else already knows, Ricky.
1) You will never be world champion.
2) You window of opportunity has closed.
3) You cannot and will not beat Jimmy Sunday Night.
Learn it.
Live it.
Love it.
DEAL WITH IT!]
(The last time we saw Jimmy and Babaloo, they were pulling out onto the street in the rust bucket Pinto turned Time Machine that Babaloo built. Jimmy looks down the long road ahead of him and looks at Babaloo and smiles. He guns it, and the little Pinto slowly rolls forward, trying to move forward, the stress of the engine whining loudly as it tries to react to the sudden flooding of gas into the carburetor. The engine chokes a little bit and then stalls.)
Seriously?
Babaloo - Jimmy! You can't treat her like that! You have to take it slow and easy!
How the hell are we going to get to 88 miles per hour if we are going slow! We need to speed it up, man!
(Jimmy pumps the gas pedal as he turns the key. The motor turns over, but it will not start. He continues to try, but nothing happens. Suddenly, the smell of gas fills the car, an obvious sign that the engine is flooded. Jimmy slams his hands on the dash.)
Dammit!
Babaloo - It smells like its flooded.
Ya think?
Babaloo - Pop the hood.
(Jimmy pops the hood and they both get out. Babaloo opens the hood and they both look down at the ragged 6 cylinder engine. Babaloo leans down and takes the breather off and tinkers with the carb. He takes a rag he has tucked into the hood compartment and soaks up some of the gas. He then holds the carb flaps open and tells Jimmy to try it now. Jimmy gets in the car and turns the key. The engine begins to turn over and finally starts. Babaloo smiles, puts the breather back and shuts the hood. He walks around and climbs back in with Jimmy.)
Babaloo - OK. Let's take it nice and easy. Once we get going, then you can give it some gas.
Are you sure this piece of **** can hit 88 miles per hour?
Babaloo - No, but I think it can.
This is a bad dream man.
Babaloo - I know it can, I know it can. Just messing with ya. Let's go!
(Jimmy slowly presses the throttle and the car begins to move forward. Slowly accelerating and getting up to 30 miles per hour. He smiles and gives it a bit more gas and the car starts to scoot down the road at a pretty good pace. 40 miles per hour and climbing!)
I think it's gonna get there, Babaloo!
Babaloo - I told you! Just ease it up there, and we will make history!
Oh yeah! Future, here we come!
Babaloo - YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE HAW!
(They speed faster, slowly increasing their speed down the narrow pavement. As they zoom past a stationary camera, the scene fades out.)
----------------------------------
Ricky, I am so glad you decided to speak about our upcoming match this week. I will be honest though, I figured I would get a lot more from you this week. I figured there would be more anger in your voice and in your heart. I figured I would hear all kinds of threats about payback for you not being the World Champion....
blah blah blah
How it was me who cost you that title...
blah blah blah
But make no mistake about it. I cost you nothing, Rick. You had nothing to lose in that match. Not a single thing. You left that match with the same thing you brought into the match.
NOTHING.
I was the one who lost my tag team titles. Me and Lex put our titles on the line and walked away with nothing. And you have the guts to paint me as the goat. Yeah, whatever you want to think, pal.
Let's get this straight right now. I want that National Title shot because I want that National Title. You just sit there and assume that even if I beat you, I can't beat Verona or Conway. If you are so awesome and would easily beat them, as you imply, and I beat you. How does that, in the real world, not your fantasy world, mean that I will automatically lose to them? Are you crazy?
Get over yourself, Rick. You aren't as good as you think you are. You never have been, and you never will be. That's just the facts, Rick. Check the records. Check the past. I have beaten you three times in the past.
THREE TIMES, RICK!
And Sunday night....I make it four!
----------------------------------
(The scene fades back in and picks up where we left off in the last scene. Jimmy and Babaloo are cruising down the road at a whopping 55 miles per hour and climbing. Jimmy is smiling as he slowly accelerates, trying not to flood the car again.)
OK, brother. We are slowly getting there. Let's just hope this damn thing holds up under the pressure of the speed!
Babaloo - It will! I reinforced the frame with some angle iron. It should hold!
Should?
Babaloo - Theoretically speaking.
WHAT!?
Babaloo - Errrmmmm.....if my calculations are correct, that is.
......
Babaloo - What?
Are you freaking kidding me?
Babaloo - No. If my calculations are correct, theoretically the frame should hold.
So basically you have no idea what the hell is going to happen.
Babaloo - We will see when we hit 88 miles per hour! Now step on in Margaret!
(Jimmy looks at Babaloo like he is crazy. Babaloo presses his foot on top of Jimmy's and the car begins to accelerate faster and faster. Flying down the road now at 70 miles per hour! As the car begins to shake, Jimmy's eyes bug out wide as he starts to scream, hoping the car doesn't fall apart as the scene fades to black.)
----------------------------------
You know, Rick, with all the talk about me under performing in matches, and your desire to "beat me like a dog", I can't help but feeling like a pit bull at Michael Vick's house right now. To be honest, I am a bit frightened right now. Don't get our hopes up, Rick, it's not the way you hope it is.
I am frightened that you actually believe you are that bad ass.
I am frightened for YOUR saftey.
You see, Ricky. You have no idea what I am capable of because you haven't done your research. You haven't paid attention. All you know is what you heard from someone else, and most likely, it was wrong too. You aren't smart enough to really delve into who and what I am on your own, so you take other people's words for it, completely blocking out the memory of loss after loss after loss ....
TO ME!
I am not sure how many times you have been dropped on your head, or how many times you have taken a chair shot to the skull, but you have obviously lost the ability to remember anything in the past. So, I will give you this time to pull up the NCW Archives and see for yourself.
*waits and whistles while you research*
*Still waiting*
OK, that should have given you the time to look it up, or at the very least, have someone else do it for you. I know you aren't the sharpest knife in the drawer, Ricky, so I am going to make this easy for you to understand.
YOU...WILL....NOT...WIN.
I certainly hope you understand it. If not, I guess I will have to beat it into you on Sunday Night. So bring your best, chump.
You're gonna need it!
----------------------------------
(The scene fades back in on the speedometer! The rust bucket is reaching 80 miles per hour rapidly. The camera pulls back and Jimmy is hanging onto the wheel with both hands, desperately trying to get to the 88 miles per hour required to travel through time. Babaloo is riding along, hands on the dash, hoping his experiment works.)
Almost to 80, Babaloo. Let's pray that this works!
Babaloo - Way ahead of you
(The car speeds faster and begins to shake at is passes 85 miles per hour. A look of concern and fear crosses Jimmy's face as they get closer and closer to the desired speed. As they pass 85 miles per hour, the electronics begin to light up. Jimmy's eyes bug out in amazement. They reach 86 miles per hour.)
It's going to work! Oh my God, it's going to work!
Babaloo - Come on, baby!
(The car starts to shake as lights glare from around the car! Just as the car hits 87 miles per hour, a sonic boom is heard and the hood flies off the front of the Pinto as smoke begins to bellow from the engine bay. The car begins to slow down as oil covers the windshield. Knocking and pinging can be heard from the engine. Suddenly, a hose busts, and the engine temperature skyrockets. Jimmy slams on the brakes and the car comes to a slow crawl.)
Babaloo - what was that boom? Did we travel through time?
I don't think so, Babaloo.
Babaloo - We were so close!
Yet...so far away.
Babaloo - Stop the car!
(Jimmy finally brings the heap to a stop. Smoke is still rising from the engine bay. They get out and look and see that the oil flowing from the engine has started a fire. Babaloo reaches for the fire extinguisher. He pulls the pin and then squeezes the trigger, and nothing comes out.)[/color]
What the hell?
Babaloo - Dammit! I forgot to get it filled!
(Jimmy just shakes his head and reaches into the car grabbing his jacket and begins to walk off. Babaloo runs away, trying to catch up with him. Jimmy walks calmly back down the road toward the shop and his perfectly good car. He walks towards the camera with the Pinto/Time Machine flaming behind him. Babaloo is seen running and tripping trying to get away from the fire as Jimmy calmly walks away. As Jimmy swings his jacket around his shoulders, the car explodes behind him. Babaloo is thrown to the ground from the force of the blast. Jimmy continues to walk as the scene shifts to slow motion. The force of the blast wisps Jimmy's hair around as he continues to walk without looking behind him...
As a smirk appears on his face, and the fire rages behind him engulfing Babaloo's Time Machine, the scene fades to black.)
Barely Runs!
Muffler is rusted through!
It has to get to 88 Miles Per Hour?
I got twenty bucks that says that piece of **** don't get to 44 miles per hour, going downhill, pedal the medal, with nitrous! That ****box will be lucky to make it to the end of the block. But hey, this should make for some exhiliarating television, right? I know I will be glued to the set for the next episode. Because honestly, this can't be good!
OH LOOK!
Ricky Johnson finally came out from under his rock to grace us with his presence. You know I would buy for a dollar? A freaking muzzle for that dog ugly wife of his. I would also buy a muzzle for him, or at least a dictionary and a thesaurus so he can come up with something a bit more intelligent than "I am gonna beat you up bad!"
Ricky! Dude...
You sound like the bully in elementary school! Next thing you know you are going to be telling Jimmy to meet you at the bike rack at 3:30. It's obvious that you aren't into this match one bit. You don't care, and that's fine. But at least pretend, will ya? Either look like you are happy to be on the Pay Per View, or don't show up. You are just making everyone else look bad. Just make sure you come to terms with a few simple facts that everyone else already knows, Ricky.
1) You will never be world champion.
2) You window of opportunity has closed.
3) You cannot and will not beat Jimmy Sunday Night.
Learn it.
Live it.
Love it.
DEAL WITH IT!]
(The last time we saw Jimmy and Babaloo, they were pulling out onto the street in the rust bucket Pinto turned Time Machine that Babaloo built. Jimmy looks down the long road ahead of him and looks at Babaloo and smiles. He guns it, and the little Pinto slowly rolls forward, trying to move forward, the stress of the engine whining loudly as it tries to react to the sudden flooding of gas into the carburetor. The engine chokes a little bit and then stalls.)
Seriously?
Babaloo - Jimmy! You can't treat her like that! You have to take it slow and easy!
How the hell are we going to get to 88 miles per hour if we are going slow! We need to speed it up, man!
(Jimmy pumps the gas pedal as he turns the key. The motor turns over, but it will not start. He continues to try, but nothing happens. Suddenly, the smell of gas fills the car, an obvious sign that the engine is flooded. Jimmy slams his hands on the dash.)
Dammit!
Babaloo - It smells like its flooded.
Ya think?
Babaloo - Pop the hood.
(Jimmy pops the hood and they both get out. Babaloo opens the hood and they both look down at the ragged 6 cylinder engine. Babaloo leans down and takes the breather off and tinkers with the carb. He takes a rag he has tucked into the hood compartment and soaks up some of the gas. He then holds the carb flaps open and tells Jimmy to try it now. Jimmy gets in the car and turns the key. The engine begins to turn over and finally starts. Babaloo smiles, puts the breather back and shuts the hood. He walks around and climbs back in with Jimmy.)
Babaloo - OK. Let's take it nice and easy. Once we get going, then you can give it some gas.
Are you sure this piece of **** can hit 88 miles per hour?
Babaloo - No, but I think it can.
This is a bad dream man.
Babaloo - I know it can, I know it can. Just messing with ya. Let's go!
(Jimmy slowly presses the throttle and the car begins to move forward. Slowly accelerating and getting up to 30 miles per hour. He smiles and gives it a bit more gas and the car starts to scoot down the road at a pretty good pace. 40 miles per hour and climbing!)
I think it's gonna get there, Babaloo!
Babaloo - I told you! Just ease it up there, and we will make history!
Oh yeah! Future, here we come!
Babaloo - YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE HAW!
(They speed faster, slowly increasing their speed down the narrow pavement. As they zoom past a stationary camera, the scene fades out.)
----------------------------------
Ricky, I am so glad you decided to speak about our upcoming match this week. I will be honest though, I figured I would get a lot more from you this week. I figured there would be more anger in your voice and in your heart. I figured I would hear all kinds of threats about payback for you not being the World Champion....
blah blah blah
How it was me who cost you that title...
blah blah blah
But make no mistake about it. I cost you nothing, Rick. You had nothing to lose in that match. Not a single thing. You left that match with the same thing you brought into the match.
NOTHING.
I was the one who lost my tag team titles. Me and Lex put our titles on the line and walked away with nothing. And you have the guts to paint me as the goat. Yeah, whatever you want to think, pal.
Let's get this straight right now. I want that National Title shot because I want that National Title. You just sit there and assume that even if I beat you, I can't beat Verona or Conway. If you are so awesome and would easily beat them, as you imply, and I beat you. How does that, in the real world, not your fantasy world, mean that I will automatically lose to them? Are you crazy?
Get over yourself, Rick. You aren't as good as you think you are. You never have been, and you never will be. That's just the facts, Rick. Check the records. Check the past. I have beaten you three times in the past.
THREE TIMES, RICK!
And Sunday night....I make it four!
----------------------------------
(The scene fades back in and picks up where we left off in the last scene. Jimmy and Babaloo are cruising down the road at a whopping 55 miles per hour and climbing. Jimmy is smiling as he slowly accelerates, trying not to flood the car again.)
OK, brother. We are slowly getting there. Let's just hope this damn thing holds up under the pressure of the speed!
Babaloo - It will! I reinforced the frame with some angle iron. It should hold!
Should?
Babaloo - Theoretically speaking.
WHAT!?
Babaloo - Errrmmmm.....if my calculations are correct, that is.
......
Babaloo - What?
Are you freaking kidding me?
Babaloo - No. If my calculations are correct, theoretically the frame should hold.
So basically you have no idea what the hell is going to happen.
Babaloo - We will see when we hit 88 miles per hour! Now step on in Margaret!
(Jimmy looks at Babaloo like he is crazy. Babaloo presses his foot on top of Jimmy's and the car begins to accelerate faster and faster. Flying down the road now at 70 miles per hour! As the car begins to shake, Jimmy's eyes bug out wide as he starts to scream, hoping the car doesn't fall apart as the scene fades to black.)
----------------------------------
You know, Rick, with all the talk about me under performing in matches, and your desire to "beat me like a dog", I can't help but feeling like a pit bull at Michael Vick's house right now. To be honest, I am a bit frightened right now. Don't get our hopes up, Rick, it's not the way you hope it is.
I am frightened that you actually believe you are that bad ass.
I am frightened for YOUR saftey.
You see, Ricky. You have no idea what I am capable of because you haven't done your research. You haven't paid attention. All you know is what you heard from someone else, and most likely, it was wrong too. You aren't smart enough to really delve into who and what I am on your own, so you take other people's words for it, completely blocking out the memory of loss after loss after loss ....
TO ME!
I am not sure how many times you have been dropped on your head, or how many times you have taken a chair shot to the skull, but you have obviously lost the ability to remember anything in the past. So, I will give you this time to pull up the NCW Archives and see for yourself.
*waits and whistles while you research*
*Still waiting*
OK, that should have given you the time to look it up, or at the very least, have someone else do it for you. I know you aren't the sharpest knife in the drawer, Ricky, so I am going to make this easy for you to understand.
YOU...WILL....NOT...WIN.
I certainly hope you understand it. If not, I guess I will have to beat it into you on Sunday Night. So bring your best, chump.
You're gonna need it!
----------------------------------
(The scene fades back in on the speedometer! The rust bucket is reaching 80 miles per hour rapidly. The camera pulls back and Jimmy is hanging onto the wheel with both hands, desperately trying to get to the 88 miles per hour required to travel through time. Babaloo is riding along, hands on the dash, hoping his experiment works.)
Almost to 80, Babaloo. Let's pray that this works!
Babaloo - Way ahead of you
(The car speeds faster and begins to shake at is passes 85 miles per hour. A look of concern and fear crosses Jimmy's face as they get closer and closer to the desired speed. As they pass 85 miles per hour, the electronics begin to light up. Jimmy's eyes bug out in amazement. They reach 86 miles per hour.)
It's going to work! Oh my God, it's going to work!
Babaloo - Come on, baby!
(The car starts to shake as lights glare from around the car! Just as the car hits 87 miles per hour, a sonic boom is heard and the hood flies off the front of the Pinto as smoke begins to bellow from the engine bay. The car begins to slow down as oil covers the windshield. Knocking and pinging can be heard from the engine. Suddenly, a hose busts, and the engine temperature skyrockets. Jimmy slams on the brakes and the car comes to a slow crawl.)
Babaloo - what was that boom? Did we travel through time?
I don't think so, Babaloo.
Babaloo - We were so close!
Yet...so far away.
Babaloo - Stop the car!
(Jimmy finally brings the heap to a stop. Smoke is still rising from the engine bay. They get out and look and see that the oil flowing from the engine has started a fire. Babaloo reaches for the fire extinguisher. He pulls the pin and then squeezes the trigger, and nothing comes out.)[/color]
What the hell?
Babaloo - Dammit! I forgot to get it filled!
(Jimmy just shakes his head and reaches into the car grabbing his jacket and begins to walk off. Babaloo runs away, trying to catch up with him. Jimmy walks calmly back down the road toward the shop and his perfectly good car. He walks towards the camera with the Pinto/Time Machine flaming behind him. Babaloo is seen running and tripping trying to get away from the fire as Jimmy calmly walks away. As Jimmy swings his jacket around his shoulders, the car explodes behind him. Babaloo is thrown to the ground from the force of the blast. Jimmy continues to walk as the scene shifts to slow motion. The force of the blast wisps Jimmy's hair around as he continues to walk without looking behind him...
BECAUSE COOL GUYS NEVER LOOK BACK!
As a smirk appears on his face, and the fire rages behind him engulfing Babaloo's Time Machine, the scene fades to black.)
