Post by Gib on Jun 15, 2012 9:40:17 GMT -6
The Forgotten…
The Hall of Famers…
The pompous self serving…
You would think that the chip on your shoulder would have been knocked off when Daye and I completely took you by surprise a few weeks ago but you are still prancing around acting like you are the uncrowned champions that winning the titles is a foregone conclusion.
Prancing like one Mr. Richard Simmons.
I am not sure if you noticed, but my career has taken on a life of its own along with the rejuvenating force that is Simon Daye. Together we came in as the underdog, an unrefined tag team who no one pegged as being the two to stop the reign of the incumbent tag team champions, no one expected us to tear through the International Invitational but here we are.
Heads high… Standing proud… We have not been the throw away tag team that people expected. We defeated the best teams in the International Invitational, the ones that are still around today. And when they split us up and make us fight in singles matches, we still win, we still persevere and overcome.
We aren’t placeholders; we aren’t some fly by night group or a flash in the pain. Simon and I represent the very best that the tag team division has to offer. We represent what a team should be, two people working cohesively not two egos trying hard to get alone.
Individually you guys are each two of the most accomplished members of the nCw roster. But what you don’t understand when you constantly put yourself on these pedestals is that I have reached the accolades you have, I did it in less time and I did it when I was in my late forties.
And Spike, there is that other thing working against you this match. There is a Famularo in it. And we all know your track record against us. Sure, you have been on the winning end of a tag match here and there but when it came down to it, when it has really mattered you have fell short.
And birdbrain… Well, I don’t have much to say to you that I haven’t already said. I know you will talk about how my legacy is tarnished or how I am a disgrace, but when it comes down to it you are the moron that punched a teenage girl in the face on national television then talked down a legend for acting a bit childish.
I think we all know who the bigger moron is here homo.
{Scene opens to the basement of Gib’s training facility. He sits behind Jenny as she works on the elliptical machine. He watching her intently before standing up, showing the world just how excited he is through his sweat shorts. Gib hits a solid slap}
Gib: Excellent game there, I mean, real top notch.
Jenny: Uhhh… Thanks.
{You can tell she is getting used to it by her sheepish smile}
Gib: I have to bench some weight…
{He goes over to the bench and lies down his protrusion standing straight up. He starts to lift and as he does he make sensual grunting noises, and when I say sensual I mean sensual like a rhinoceros trying to copulate with a canary.}
Jenny: That is an interesting breathing method you use.
{Gib blasts through the set and stands up hopping on his feet, his johnson bouncing}
Gib: I can’t help it, the endorphins they are strong within me I just get so excited to work out, to pump the iron. Hell, that is what happened the day that both Xander and Zelda were conceived. I had ground breaking matches and then went and performed coitus uninterruptus with their mother’s. Boom, loveshot, baby batter explodes, baby conceived.
{Jenny is trying to hold back laughter as Gib continues}
Gib: See, people need to watch out when I get going, when I get fired up because sometimes I get backed up you see, and sometimes I need to be like all…
{He holds his hand out and gyrates his hips}
Gib: And then others times I have to do something like…
{He starts waving his arm around his head like he has a lasso and the gyrating continues reaching a fevered pitch.}
Gib: And then sometimes when the time is right I am like…
{He grabs imaginary hips in front of him and fake spanks the air, Jenny’s face is getting red from her holding back laughter as Gib finally clenches his body tight and screams the aforementioned style of sensual grunting}
Gib: And then I am like, you should go, I need to get some sleep.
{Jenny bursts out laughing before hopping off the elliptical machine}
Jenny: So I should watch out then?
Gib: No, you are spoken for. But be glad you aren’t wearing a skirt.
Jenny: Why is that?
Gib: Because what I just did standing here would most certainly have impregnated you.
{Jenny puts her head down and then speaks to Gib, changing the subject out of nowhere}
Jenny: I haven’t heard from Xander for weeks, what do you think is going on?
Gib: He and Zelda are trying to find themselves; there is nothing to worry about. He knows what he has in you, he is trying to be fifteen places at once, right now his sister needs him. He isn’t going anywhere…
Jenny: How do you know?
Gib: Because if he isn’t around I would have to be all… BOOM! LOVESHOT!
{Jenny laughs and Gib walks over, bringing her in for a completely appropriate and respectful hug which she certainly needed.}
Jenny: I just wish I knew where he was. Is there any place you used to go when you needed to think?
Gib: Yes, there was… Oh no….
{Gib releases the hug and runs up the stairs slamming the door behind him as the scene fades}
Criminal Intent, are you still holding on to false hope? You lost to us in the tag tournament, then you lost to The Forgotten and now you are still finding your way into the biggest match for all the gold. It is funny, people say we are stereotypical American’s but there you guys sit, week after week attempting to force your brand of retarded dialect to the world, recounting your struggles in the ring with various stages of your previous incarcerations.
Here is a hint, something that you should really think about, no one gives a **** about you in prison, and no one gives a **** in the least. I don’t care about your forced dinner dates with Carly Robbins, I am not sure whether you realize it or not but she is like a door knob, everyone gets a turn.
I know, you will strike back with wit and retort, things which I have no idea how to defuse because quite frankly when either one of you talk, I literally feel the intelligence being sucked out of my ear, I feel that above all your stories and tales of bravado as convicts make you look like a couple of dishonest asshats.
I mean, if two are the hardest criminals in Australia, serving time for something which I am unsure of because I honestly can’t get through an entire video of either of you get beat by a 50 year old man and a former commentator…
Australia needs to amp up the in prison beatings. Shouldn’t you have torn me apart? And yet I merely needed a few seconds in the ring with the two of you to completely turn your dreams into sludge, like dried semen on the back of a hooker.
Even my metaphors are better then you, I just can’t wait for you guys to finally realize that being big in Australia means nothing in regards to the whole world that surrounds it. Go play with some dingoes and then after you are done you can **** yourself.
{Scene opens, a cloud of dust follows a truck down a desert road, behind the wheel is Gib, he has a look of intent on his face as the truck continues at top speed, barreling straight ahead to the place where he once found solace in the most tumultuous time of his life. After a few moments you see the truck come to a halt, the wheels locking up and the truck skidding to a stop a few feet before hitting the trailer that sits in the middle of the deserted road somewhere undefined.}
{Gib rushes to the front of the door and pushes it open}
Gib: Zelda?
{He walks into the room, empty bottles litter the floor, the place is in certain disarray, Gib walks through the main area and down the hall, he pushes open the doors and the rooms look neat and tidy, like no one has been in them for quite a long time.}
Gib: Xander, where in the hell are you?
{He walks back out to the main living area, his booted foot crushes bottles as he walks}
Gib: I should have torched this damn place…
{He walks past pictures that have been torn from the walls, there are many pictures still pinned up, pictures of the family of Steve Awesome, a pen knife with what appears to be crusted blood on it. Gib takes his hand and pulls the pictures off the wall, throwing them to the ground.}
{He storms out the door and looks around, it is completely desolate. He shakes his head slowly}
Gib: I am too late…. *** damn it, I am too late.
{Gib walks towards the truck and steps inside. He sits in the driver seat for a minute before slamming his hands on the steering wheel and laying out a string of profanity that would make the child of a sailor and a trucker blush as the scene fades}
It started with you Internationals and it is only fitting that you somehow keep finding a way to weasel your way into matches. I can’t even tell you when the two of you had been part of a winning match. I have defeated you guys in singles matches, we have humiliated you in tag matches and hell you even lost to Criminal Intent a few weeks ago.
I am not playing games with the two of you; you were a great tag team, really, top notch. But the problem was, you were top notch when there were no other teams to compare you to. You beat some random Mark Evil tag team and then a couple of clowns to win the titles and you held them for a long time.
What is it? Third longest in nCw history right? But, that will forever be remembered as the darkest time for our tag division in nCw. When great teams join a division they bring out challengers, and the opposite is true.
Now that Simon and I are the tag champs, everyone wants to step into the division, we have brought respect and excitement back to the struggling division, we did what you were unable too and now, it is time for the two of you to go back to your own countries, it is time to go back and wrestling in a barn surrounded by donkey’s el Nacho Grande.
It is time to go back and plan more attacks on unsuspecting countries attacking them from the backside, just like you attack your little Mexican buddy every week.
You can say I have no honor, but that doesn’t effect me in anyway, as a matter of fact anything anyone in this match says will hold no weight because I guarantee that I have heard everything that you have to say at least a hundred times.
And I still come forward.
Winning…
Crushing…
Defying odds…
Because that is what Famularo’s do, defy odds and dominate. This weekend will be no different. Daye and I are on a roll, and nothing can stop us.
Amurika will prevail.
The Hall of Famers…
The pompous self serving…
You would think that the chip on your shoulder would have been knocked off when Daye and I completely took you by surprise a few weeks ago but you are still prancing around acting like you are the uncrowned champions that winning the titles is a foregone conclusion.
Prancing like one Mr. Richard Simmons.
I am not sure if you noticed, but my career has taken on a life of its own along with the rejuvenating force that is Simon Daye. Together we came in as the underdog, an unrefined tag team who no one pegged as being the two to stop the reign of the incumbent tag team champions, no one expected us to tear through the International Invitational but here we are.
Heads high… Standing proud… We have not been the throw away tag team that people expected. We defeated the best teams in the International Invitational, the ones that are still around today. And when they split us up and make us fight in singles matches, we still win, we still persevere and overcome.
We aren’t placeholders; we aren’t some fly by night group or a flash in the pain. Simon and I represent the very best that the tag team division has to offer. We represent what a team should be, two people working cohesively not two egos trying hard to get alone.
Individually you guys are each two of the most accomplished members of the nCw roster. But what you don’t understand when you constantly put yourself on these pedestals is that I have reached the accolades you have, I did it in less time and I did it when I was in my late forties.
And Spike, there is that other thing working against you this match. There is a Famularo in it. And we all know your track record against us. Sure, you have been on the winning end of a tag match here and there but when it came down to it, when it has really mattered you have fell short.
And birdbrain… Well, I don’t have much to say to you that I haven’t already said. I know you will talk about how my legacy is tarnished or how I am a disgrace, but when it comes down to it you are the moron that punched a teenage girl in the face on national television then talked down a legend for acting a bit childish.
I think we all know who the bigger moron is here homo.
{Scene opens to the basement of Gib’s training facility. He sits behind Jenny as she works on the elliptical machine. He watching her intently before standing up, showing the world just how excited he is through his sweat shorts. Gib hits a solid slap}
Gib: Excellent game there, I mean, real top notch.
Jenny: Uhhh… Thanks.
{You can tell she is getting used to it by her sheepish smile}
Gib: I have to bench some weight…
{He goes over to the bench and lies down his protrusion standing straight up. He starts to lift and as he does he make sensual grunting noises, and when I say sensual I mean sensual like a rhinoceros trying to copulate with a canary.}
Jenny: That is an interesting breathing method you use.
{Gib blasts through the set and stands up hopping on his feet, his johnson bouncing}
Gib: I can’t help it, the endorphins they are strong within me I just get so excited to work out, to pump the iron. Hell, that is what happened the day that both Xander and Zelda were conceived. I had ground breaking matches and then went and performed coitus uninterruptus with their mother’s. Boom, loveshot, baby batter explodes, baby conceived.
{Jenny is trying to hold back laughter as Gib continues}
Gib: See, people need to watch out when I get going, when I get fired up because sometimes I get backed up you see, and sometimes I need to be like all…
{He holds his hand out and gyrates his hips}
Gib: And then others times I have to do something like…
{He starts waving his arm around his head like he has a lasso and the gyrating continues reaching a fevered pitch.}
Gib: And then sometimes when the time is right I am like…
{He grabs imaginary hips in front of him and fake spanks the air, Jenny’s face is getting red from her holding back laughter as Gib finally clenches his body tight and screams the aforementioned style of sensual grunting}
Gib: And then I am like, you should go, I need to get some sleep.
{Jenny bursts out laughing before hopping off the elliptical machine}
Jenny: So I should watch out then?
Gib: No, you are spoken for. But be glad you aren’t wearing a skirt.
Jenny: Why is that?
Gib: Because what I just did standing here would most certainly have impregnated you.
{Jenny puts her head down and then speaks to Gib, changing the subject out of nowhere}
Jenny: I haven’t heard from Xander for weeks, what do you think is going on?
Gib: He and Zelda are trying to find themselves; there is nothing to worry about. He knows what he has in you, he is trying to be fifteen places at once, right now his sister needs him. He isn’t going anywhere…
Jenny: How do you know?
Gib: Because if he isn’t around I would have to be all… BOOM! LOVESHOT!
{Jenny laughs and Gib walks over, bringing her in for a completely appropriate and respectful hug which she certainly needed.}
Jenny: I just wish I knew where he was. Is there any place you used to go when you needed to think?
Gib: Yes, there was… Oh no….
{Gib releases the hug and runs up the stairs slamming the door behind him as the scene fades}
Criminal Intent, are you still holding on to false hope? You lost to us in the tag tournament, then you lost to The Forgotten and now you are still finding your way into the biggest match for all the gold. It is funny, people say we are stereotypical American’s but there you guys sit, week after week attempting to force your brand of retarded dialect to the world, recounting your struggles in the ring with various stages of your previous incarcerations.
Here is a hint, something that you should really think about, no one gives a **** about you in prison, and no one gives a **** in the least. I don’t care about your forced dinner dates with Carly Robbins, I am not sure whether you realize it or not but she is like a door knob, everyone gets a turn.
I know, you will strike back with wit and retort, things which I have no idea how to defuse because quite frankly when either one of you talk, I literally feel the intelligence being sucked out of my ear, I feel that above all your stories and tales of bravado as convicts make you look like a couple of dishonest asshats.
I mean, if two are the hardest criminals in Australia, serving time for something which I am unsure of because I honestly can’t get through an entire video of either of you get beat by a 50 year old man and a former commentator…
Australia needs to amp up the in prison beatings. Shouldn’t you have torn me apart? And yet I merely needed a few seconds in the ring with the two of you to completely turn your dreams into sludge, like dried semen on the back of a hooker.
Even my metaphors are better then you, I just can’t wait for you guys to finally realize that being big in Australia means nothing in regards to the whole world that surrounds it. Go play with some dingoes and then after you are done you can **** yourself.
{Scene opens, a cloud of dust follows a truck down a desert road, behind the wheel is Gib, he has a look of intent on his face as the truck continues at top speed, barreling straight ahead to the place where he once found solace in the most tumultuous time of his life. After a few moments you see the truck come to a halt, the wheels locking up and the truck skidding to a stop a few feet before hitting the trailer that sits in the middle of the deserted road somewhere undefined.}
{Gib rushes to the front of the door and pushes it open}
Gib: Zelda?
{He walks into the room, empty bottles litter the floor, the place is in certain disarray, Gib walks through the main area and down the hall, he pushes open the doors and the rooms look neat and tidy, like no one has been in them for quite a long time.}
Gib: Xander, where in the hell are you?
{He walks back out to the main living area, his booted foot crushes bottles as he walks}
Gib: I should have torched this damn place…
{He walks past pictures that have been torn from the walls, there are many pictures still pinned up, pictures of the family of Steve Awesome, a pen knife with what appears to be crusted blood on it. Gib takes his hand and pulls the pictures off the wall, throwing them to the ground.}
{He storms out the door and looks around, it is completely desolate. He shakes his head slowly}
Gib: I am too late…. *** damn it, I am too late.
{Gib walks towards the truck and steps inside. He sits in the driver seat for a minute before slamming his hands on the steering wheel and laying out a string of profanity that would make the child of a sailor and a trucker blush as the scene fades}
It started with you Internationals and it is only fitting that you somehow keep finding a way to weasel your way into matches. I can’t even tell you when the two of you had been part of a winning match. I have defeated you guys in singles matches, we have humiliated you in tag matches and hell you even lost to Criminal Intent a few weeks ago.
I am not playing games with the two of you; you were a great tag team, really, top notch. But the problem was, you were top notch when there were no other teams to compare you to. You beat some random Mark Evil tag team and then a couple of clowns to win the titles and you held them for a long time.
What is it? Third longest in nCw history right? But, that will forever be remembered as the darkest time for our tag division in nCw. When great teams join a division they bring out challengers, and the opposite is true.
Now that Simon and I are the tag champs, everyone wants to step into the division, we have brought respect and excitement back to the struggling division, we did what you were unable too and now, it is time for the two of you to go back to your own countries, it is time to go back and wrestling in a barn surrounded by donkey’s el Nacho Grande.
It is time to go back and plan more attacks on unsuspecting countries attacking them from the backside, just like you attack your little Mexican buddy every week.
You can say I have no honor, but that doesn’t effect me in anyway, as a matter of fact anything anyone in this match says will hold no weight because I guarantee that I have heard everything that you have to say at least a hundred times.
And I still come forward.
Winning…
Crushing…
Defying odds…
Because that is what Famularo’s do, defy odds and dominate. This weekend will be no different. Daye and I are on a roll, and nothing can stop us.
Amurika will prevail.
