Post by Gib on Jan 4, 2013 12:41:12 GMT -6
Joe Everyman…
Wow… This is the best tag team that can be put in the ring against us, against the greatest and longest reigning champions of all time. Joe piddles his way to another partner to drag down into the depths of mediocrity. I know you guys had a great win against Team Mexico last week, and I know that you think you are on a roll, but let’s be honest. Your asses suck canal water, that is literally the nicest thing I can say about you, because Joe, I have watched you fail too many times to give you a second thought.
Or is it different this time? Did you find your smile? Are you training and changing and becoming the very best you can be? Are you like a little GI Joe Action figure primed and ready for battle? You are nothing Joe, you can talk about how many times you have been on the cusp, but being on the cusp only means that you aren’t good enough to get over it. Hell, my left nut was on the cusp of greatness for a long time too, until my right nut seized the limelight all for himself.
Now my right nut has his own product line, cologne, shaving cream named after him and what do you have Joe? The Joe Everyman action figure complete with the ability to lie on its back for extended periods of time? That is your skill, getting beat, getting humiliated and I will give you credit, no matter how many times you lose you come raring back refreshed and ready for another run that subsequently ends in another failure.
I don’t know whether to congratulate you based on your tenacity or mock you based on your inability to straight up see how incredibly mediocre you are, how many times you have been given a chance to rise to the top, but you aren’t cream are you? You sink, like a ****ing rock, like dead weight.
I tell you what, the only thing sadder then getting your ass kicked week after week would be a grown man getting excited over getting a puppy and a wii u for Christmas.
Oh say what? You essentially treated those presents with the same regard as a normal man would for having a child.
So this week, you promised that we won’t know what hit us. Dude, have you forgotten that I have been in the same ring with you before? And you know what I probably won’t know what hit me. I won’t know because after you hit me last time I swear I was fighting a girl scout, and not one of those normal ones with the badges for orienteering and tying knots, I am talking about the one that has no badges because she is a quadriplegic. There, I said it I know it isn’t politically correct and that I will probably have to have a counseling session about it but you hit like a quadriplegic girl scout.
What is going to happen this week is the following. You come to the ring and face us, we kick the ever loving dog **** out of you. You cry internally, then probably externally, then you question your life and career choices while I take your closest female relative out for a nice lobster dinner…
And never call her again.
{Scene opens and Gib storms into his living room. Xander and Jenny sit on the couch watching television, snuggled up with one another. The expression on his face is one of a man that just saw a ghost.}
Xander: What’s up pop?
Gib: I was driving around town when an object of such striking, glorious, yet vile magnificence nearly jettisoned my eyeballs, testicles, and nipples simultaneously from my body: A man clothed in tattered, grime-encrusted, rags having hair so dirty and matted it had formed one huge, helmet-like substance atop his head taking a **** on the sidewalk. Now, I consider myself what one might call, a world traveler having gone to all the reached of planet earth for years as a wrestler and have thus seeing my fair share of the homeless, helpless, hobos of our society. What I saw today will forever be flash fried into my memory not because of the bum's filthiness, nor his choice of lavatory, nor the ravenous snarl he hurled at me while flashing deranged, beady eyes. Nay, this bum, my friend, was the lord bum in all categories.
Jenny: What could you possibly be talking about?
Gib: I understood at once the magnitude of my discovery but was shaken from my trance by the visage which befell before me, because I saw hanging low a fleshy meatstick and indeed, the beasts donger was nearly dragging on the ground while he lavished in the frosty morn, relieving himself. At that point I realized that what once may have been his pants had turned into a science project of astronomical proportions. Nearly no resemblance to pants remained as the inseam had rotted away assuredly from constant pants-pissing and furious masturbation. This left the impression that he was wearing a twisted, psychotic, kilt of sorts; leaving his crusty buttocks and gentitalia free to dance in the cold, freezing Oswego air.
Xander: What did you do at that point?
Gib: Well, when he pulled up his trousers and tucked his meatstick into his waistband he approached a dumpster and immediately started rummaging. I approached and tried to make contact with him and ran away like one of those fancy, knickerbocker-sporting, nancy boys because as I stood he rummaged through garbage while rumbling "WELL LOOK WHAT WE HAVE HERE" as if he had discovered the cup of Christ Himself. And he hadn’t discovered it, it was nothing more then a half rotten head of lettuce, and I ran, I ran so far away.
Jenny: That sounds like quite the traumatic experience.
Gib: And the most traumatic part of the whole story is of course that he probably had more athletic talent then either of my opponents this weekend.
Jenny: Ouch…
Xander: Headshot…
Gib: **** yeah!
Hey Ortega, so you say that you have been saying good things about me for the last few weeks, and making quaint threats, well I must tell you that they haven’t gone unnoticed.
Wait, unnoticed is the opposite of noticed, let me rephrase what I just said, your comments have not gone noticed. I won’t lie, you don’t even register on my radar for potential enemies. I mean, Joe Everyman shows up because I like an easy win as much as the last time but honestly, the two of you shouldn’t be known as the “Second Rate Riders”, you should be known as the “We wrestle in a mediocre fashion whenever we decide to do our job riders.”
The fact is, you said that we know you are the greatest tag team in the division and I must say, I thought Joe Everyman was mildly retarded, but if he is Corky Thatcher to the retarded world then you are that dude from that Gilbert Grape movie, the one with that big fat woman you know, the one that looks like your mom, and I know that because when I had intercoursal relationships with her it was like throwing a hotdog down a hallway.
But I digress.
I think it is funny after two wins you have the audacity to claim supremacy to us. I mean, A) You have Joe Everyman as a Parter and B) You are on the team as well. I mean, I know our accomplishments of beating every tag team in the world, and every other tag team that has stepped up since May. That is almost eight months ago. No other title reign in this company has come close to our 267 day title reign, not even close.
But you are better aren’t you? You really are a moron. Because when it comes down to it, I think your biggest accomplishment here, is that you created the first stable ever. Holy crap, hold the damn phones. You got a whole bunch of people hungry for power together and did what has been done a thousand times before everywhere else in the world.
And a tag title reign right? Was it a long one?
God… I don’t know why I bother. It is like people forget the reality of the situation. You want to talk pedigree? How about my world title reigns, how about my utter domination of this entire roster when I was forty eight years old? How about my singles match victory over the current world champion a couple months ago?
Open your eyes, you aren’t the next big tag teams. You are canon fodder to give me something to do, a toy to be played with. And I am going to play with you Davey, I am going to take you apart piece by piece, moment by moment until you can no longer stand. When you wake up Monday, I want you to think about what you said last week, I want you to realize that your legacy is nothing and will be nothing.
And also, you said Joe Everyman was the best wrestler on the roster…
BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH
Douchebag.
{Scene opens, a counselor sits in a room. She is an older woman, attractive and classy, you know like the kind of woman you are going to put a little Old Spice on for, maybe even break out a little package of Cracker Barrel Cheese. Gib enters the door, he is wearing a cape and a pair of tights, you know like the one superman wears, only they are just the part that covers his ass and nuts, not the whole leg. His legs are obscenely hairy, I mean to the level that it isn’t humane whatsoever.}
Lady: Please have a seat.
Gib: Why don’t you have a seat.
Lady: Because I am already seated.
Gib: Oh yeah well… How about you, uhhh… Yeah. I am just going to sit down…
{You see Gib’s face redden slightly as he looks down at his attire. He sits, crossing his legs in an unseductive manner. Well, he meant for it to be seductive, but there was no way it actually was.}
Lady: Please, spare me. I have read your files. I have watched your matches. I am not offended easily and have had a long day, so if we can get this over with I would be grateful.
Gib: I have something long.
Lady: No, based on those tights you don’t.
{Gib lowers his head, unable to gain his composure.}
Lady: So, you are a fifty year old man, you are in great physical condition you have a long and illustrious career behind you. So why are you destroying your body, why are you going out and acting like a little child each and every week.
Gib: Because it makes people laugh.
Lady: So you are saying that you self dignity and respect are worth a simple laugh because let me be quite frank here, no one finds it becoming.
Gib: Everyone laughs, I have plenty of friends.
Lady: Everyone in the wrestling world laughs, but outside of the wrestling world and to everyone you meet on a casual basis, I am quite sure they think you are mildly retarded.
{Gib just looks at her, puzzled}
Gib: Well, luckily I don’t give a rats ass what people think about me, I am who I am. I live a happy life, I have so much to be proud of.
Lady: I won’t dispute that, but the way you go about showing this is, in the forms of our society odd. I mean look at what you are wearing, where is your sense of reasonable behavior for adults?
Gib: Like I said I don’t really care.
Lady: I think you do, and I think this is all an act.
Gib: I think you are way off base and have never dealt with a person that doesn’t quite fit into your little diagnosis book over there
Lady: Yes, I think you are correct because never in my wildest imaginations did I think an adult male would come into my office dressed like a toddler at Halloween.
{Gib stands up, he turns and leaves}
Lady: Did something I said bother you?
Gib: No not something, just basically all of it.
{He storms out the door, slamming it behind him, Simon is in the waiting room.}
Simon: Woah, did she get to you, you look pissed.
{Gib turns and grabs Simon by the shoulders. Looking him deep in the eyes}
Gib: I am so sorry…..
{Simon looks at him and Gib reaches down with both hands grabbing his ass in a heavy embrace}
Gib: That I didn’t grab your ass from this angle yet. Dude, that chick is a firecracker… I think I am in love.
Simon: Jesus man, you don’t ever give up.
Gib: No I don’t. And I think now would be a suitable time for a high five
{The two jump in the air, high fiving each other as the scene pauses, catching them in the air, arms outstretched in the ultimate display of brotherhood.}
Wow… This is the best tag team that can be put in the ring against us, against the greatest and longest reigning champions of all time. Joe piddles his way to another partner to drag down into the depths of mediocrity. I know you guys had a great win against Team Mexico last week, and I know that you think you are on a roll, but let’s be honest. Your asses suck canal water, that is literally the nicest thing I can say about you, because Joe, I have watched you fail too many times to give you a second thought.
Or is it different this time? Did you find your smile? Are you training and changing and becoming the very best you can be? Are you like a little GI Joe Action figure primed and ready for battle? You are nothing Joe, you can talk about how many times you have been on the cusp, but being on the cusp only means that you aren’t good enough to get over it. Hell, my left nut was on the cusp of greatness for a long time too, until my right nut seized the limelight all for himself.
Now my right nut has his own product line, cologne, shaving cream named after him and what do you have Joe? The Joe Everyman action figure complete with the ability to lie on its back for extended periods of time? That is your skill, getting beat, getting humiliated and I will give you credit, no matter how many times you lose you come raring back refreshed and ready for another run that subsequently ends in another failure.
I don’t know whether to congratulate you based on your tenacity or mock you based on your inability to straight up see how incredibly mediocre you are, how many times you have been given a chance to rise to the top, but you aren’t cream are you? You sink, like a ****ing rock, like dead weight.
I tell you what, the only thing sadder then getting your ass kicked week after week would be a grown man getting excited over getting a puppy and a wii u for Christmas.
Oh say what? You essentially treated those presents with the same regard as a normal man would for having a child.
So this week, you promised that we won’t know what hit us. Dude, have you forgotten that I have been in the same ring with you before? And you know what I probably won’t know what hit me. I won’t know because after you hit me last time I swear I was fighting a girl scout, and not one of those normal ones with the badges for orienteering and tying knots, I am talking about the one that has no badges because she is a quadriplegic. There, I said it I know it isn’t politically correct and that I will probably have to have a counseling session about it but you hit like a quadriplegic girl scout.
What is going to happen this week is the following. You come to the ring and face us, we kick the ever loving dog **** out of you. You cry internally, then probably externally, then you question your life and career choices while I take your closest female relative out for a nice lobster dinner…
And never call her again.
{Scene opens and Gib storms into his living room. Xander and Jenny sit on the couch watching television, snuggled up with one another. The expression on his face is one of a man that just saw a ghost.}
Xander: What’s up pop?
Gib: I was driving around town when an object of such striking, glorious, yet vile magnificence nearly jettisoned my eyeballs, testicles, and nipples simultaneously from my body: A man clothed in tattered, grime-encrusted, rags having hair so dirty and matted it had formed one huge, helmet-like substance atop his head taking a **** on the sidewalk. Now, I consider myself what one might call, a world traveler having gone to all the reached of planet earth for years as a wrestler and have thus seeing my fair share of the homeless, helpless, hobos of our society. What I saw today will forever be flash fried into my memory not because of the bum's filthiness, nor his choice of lavatory, nor the ravenous snarl he hurled at me while flashing deranged, beady eyes. Nay, this bum, my friend, was the lord bum in all categories.
Jenny: What could you possibly be talking about?
Gib: I understood at once the magnitude of my discovery but was shaken from my trance by the visage which befell before me, because I saw hanging low a fleshy meatstick and indeed, the beasts donger was nearly dragging on the ground while he lavished in the frosty morn, relieving himself. At that point I realized that what once may have been his pants had turned into a science project of astronomical proportions. Nearly no resemblance to pants remained as the inseam had rotted away assuredly from constant pants-pissing and furious masturbation. This left the impression that he was wearing a twisted, psychotic, kilt of sorts; leaving his crusty buttocks and gentitalia free to dance in the cold, freezing Oswego air.
Xander: What did you do at that point?
Gib: Well, when he pulled up his trousers and tucked his meatstick into his waistband he approached a dumpster and immediately started rummaging. I approached and tried to make contact with him and ran away like one of those fancy, knickerbocker-sporting, nancy boys because as I stood he rummaged through garbage while rumbling "WELL LOOK WHAT WE HAVE HERE" as if he had discovered the cup of Christ Himself. And he hadn’t discovered it, it was nothing more then a half rotten head of lettuce, and I ran, I ran so far away.
Jenny: That sounds like quite the traumatic experience.
Gib: And the most traumatic part of the whole story is of course that he probably had more athletic talent then either of my opponents this weekend.
Jenny: Ouch…
Xander: Headshot…
Gib: **** yeah!
Hey Ortega, so you say that you have been saying good things about me for the last few weeks, and making quaint threats, well I must tell you that they haven’t gone unnoticed.
Wait, unnoticed is the opposite of noticed, let me rephrase what I just said, your comments have not gone noticed. I won’t lie, you don’t even register on my radar for potential enemies. I mean, Joe Everyman shows up because I like an easy win as much as the last time but honestly, the two of you shouldn’t be known as the “Second Rate Riders”, you should be known as the “We wrestle in a mediocre fashion whenever we decide to do our job riders.”
The fact is, you said that we know you are the greatest tag team in the division and I must say, I thought Joe Everyman was mildly retarded, but if he is Corky Thatcher to the retarded world then you are that dude from that Gilbert Grape movie, the one with that big fat woman you know, the one that looks like your mom, and I know that because when I had intercoursal relationships with her it was like throwing a hotdog down a hallway.
But I digress.
I think it is funny after two wins you have the audacity to claim supremacy to us. I mean, A) You have Joe Everyman as a Parter and B) You are on the team as well. I mean, I know our accomplishments of beating every tag team in the world, and every other tag team that has stepped up since May. That is almost eight months ago. No other title reign in this company has come close to our 267 day title reign, not even close.
But you are better aren’t you? You really are a moron. Because when it comes down to it, I think your biggest accomplishment here, is that you created the first stable ever. Holy crap, hold the damn phones. You got a whole bunch of people hungry for power together and did what has been done a thousand times before everywhere else in the world.
And a tag title reign right? Was it a long one?
God… I don’t know why I bother. It is like people forget the reality of the situation. You want to talk pedigree? How about my world title reigns, how about my utter domination of this entire roster when I was forty eight years old? How about my singles match victory over the current world champion a couple months ago?
Open your eyes, you aren’t the next big tag teams. You are canon fodder to give me something to do, a toy to be played with. And I am going to play with you Davey, I am going to take you apart piece by piece, moment by moment until you can no longer stand. When you wake up Monday, I want you to think about what you said last week, I want you to realize that your legacy is nothing and will be nothing.
And also, you said Joe Everyman was the best wrestler on the roster…
BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH
Douchebag.
{Scene opens, a counselor sits in a room. She is an older woman, attractive and classy, you know like the kind of woman you are going to put a little Old Spice on for, maybe even break out a little package of Cracker Barrel Cheese. Gib enters the door, he is wearing a cape and a pair of tights, you know like the one superman wears, only they are just the part that covers his ass and nuts, not the whole leg. His legs are obscenely hairy, I mean to the level that it isn’t humane whatsoever.}
Lady: Please have a seat.
Gib: Why don’t you have a seat.
Lady: Because I am already seated.
Gib: Oh yeah well… How about you, uhhh… Yeah. I am just going to sit down…
{You see Gib’s face redden slightly as he looks down at his attire. He sits, crossing his legs in an unseductive manner. Well, he meant for it to be seductive, but there was no way it actually was.}
Lady: Please, spare me. I have read your files. I have watched your matches. I am not offended easily and have had a long day, so if we can get this over with I would be grateful.
Gib: I have something long.
Lady: No, based on those tights you don’t.
{Gib lowers his head, unable to gain his composure.}
Lady: So, you are a fifty year old man, you are in great physical condition you have a long and illustrious career behind you. So why are you destroying your body, why are you going out and acting like a little child each and every week.
Gib: Because it makes people laugh.
Lady: So you are saying that you self dignity and respect are worth a simple laugh because let me be quite frank here, no one finds it becoming.
Gib: Everyone laughs, I have plenty of friends.
Lady: Everyone in the wrestling world laughs, but outside of the wrestling world and to everyone you meet on a casual basis, I am quite sure they think you are mildly retarded.
{Gib just looks at her, puzzled}
Gib: Well, luckily I don’t give a rats ass what people think about me, I am who I am. I live a happy life, I have so much to be proud of.
Lady: I won’t dispute that, but the way you go about showing this is, in the forms of our society odd. I mean look at what you are wearing, where is your sense of reasonable behavior for adults?
Gib: Like I said I don’t really care.
Lady: I think you do, and I think this is all an act.
Gib: I think you are way off base and have never dealt with a person that doesn’t quite fit into your little diagnosis book over there
Lady: Yes, I think you are correct because never in my wildest imaginations did I think an adult male would come into my office dressed like a toddler at Halloween.
{Gib stands up, he turns and leaves}
Lady: Did something I said bother you?
Gib: No not something, just basically all of it.
{He storms out the door, slamming it behind him, Simon is in the waiting room.}
Simon: Woah, did she get to you, you look pissed.
{Gib turns and grabs Simon by the shoulders. Looking him deep in the eyes}
Gib: I am so sorry…..
{Simon looks at him and Gib reaches down with both hands grabbing his ass in a heavy embrace}
Gib: That I didn’t grab your ass from this angle yet. Dude, that chick is a firecracker… I think I am in love.
Simon: Jesus man, you don’t ever give up.
Gib: No I don’t. And I think now would be a suitable time for a high five
{The two jump in the air, high fiving each other as the scene pauses, catching them in the air, arms outstretched in the ultimate display of brotherhood.}
