Post by Philip Burns on Aug 7, 2009 2:54:02 GMT -6
I'm not gonna answer that.
Philip Burns eyeballs his phone which is sitting on the coffee table vibrating
Why? Who is it?
The familiar voice of JP Rush asks from the other side of the room.
Burns: Oh who isn't it? Every joker in nCw with a microphone is all over me with questions. All I am hearing about is losing to Smokin' Aces, Angel jumping down my throat, and this match with Dirty Deal.
JP: I can imagine. I didn't know Angel was going to react like that. He cant be serious about you costing him matches.
Burns: Every defeat we have been handed was the results of some sort of trickery or numbers game. Thats not an excuse, thats a FACT. Burning Angels is indestructible and a dominant tag team and nothing will change that. Its not how often you win, its WHEN you when.
The phone lights up and vibrates again
Burns: Oh for the love of Christ I am getting sick of this.
Burns answers the call.
Burns: Hi Carly. No I do not want to give you an interview. No I do not want to tickle you whispering eye, and no I DO NOT want to talk about your one-time lover Mike Honcho.
Because I am sick of talking. I just want to put Dirty Deal out and be done with this nonsense.
Burns slams his phone shut and puts it back on the table. He stands up and walks around the room to the pool table and grabs a cue.
Burns: Hey Rush, have you ever wondered what the name “Dirty Deal” is all about? I mean seriously! Have these guys not noticed their team name is another way of saying unclean penis? These are the most clueless excuses of flesh I have ever seen.
Burns takes a shot at the cue ball and we hear more than one ball being sunk into a pocket but we cant see which ones.
JP: I get what you are saying. I fully expect you to beat them. Hell I bet if you get ones of those shirts that say “How do you keep an idiot busy for a ten count? Read the other side” and put it on a fan the match would never even start. Why the hell would they order a lynch mob match? Man Ive got almost a foot and about 80 pounds on you and I wouldn't even want to be anywhere near that. You were once a student of Spike Kane, the God of Xtreme! You defeated Mark Evil for the Xtreme Championship is such a dominant fashion he was never the same again Lord rest his soul.
Burns takes another shot and inadvertently jumps the white ball off the table. He chuckles a bit, being the first to admit that billiards is not his strongest point. He walks over to pick it up an places it back on the table. He lays the stick down across the green felt and turns his attention instead to another side of the room where a shuffleboard table sits. Thats right, Philip Burns lives in a man cave. Its full of Bar games, video games, and pictures of dogs playing poker. Hey, its better than the dog pictures that Dirty Deal have. You don't even want to know.
Burns: Yes Mark Evil. I barely remember the rage of that night. I massacred him. Lynch mob match? Please. I am gonna string up Dirty Deal like a classic strat and play to sweet song of victory. When this is all over they are really going to wish they had downloaded the Burning Angels app from the Apple Store.
JP: The what?
Burns takes his first puck and slides it down the shuffleboard table. It lands in the “1” section.
Burns: Damn. Oh you didn't know about that? You just get on your iPhone and put your name into this app and them it declares you the loser in a match versus Burning Angels.
JP: I don't get it...
Burns: Well its a choice between paying 99 cents to lose or actually having to get your ass handed to you to lose. IF Dirty Deal were smart, which they are not they would just buy the app.
JP: classic. I cant help but notice though, you only refer to them as “Dirty Deal” Do you not know their individual names?
Burns takes his second puck and slide it down the table only to have it fall off the edge. He then looks at JP with a dead serious straight face.
Burns: No I do not. Leave it at that.
JP, who has been sitting this entire time stands up and walks over to Phil and gives him a friendly yet thunderous slap/pat on the back.
JP: Well you certainly seem terrified of Ron and Curtis. I'm gonna head out for some strange and leave you to “train”. Catch you later man.
Burns bids him farewell and locks concentration onto this last puck, he slides it down the table with grace and determination. Its lands in the “3” section, hanging slightly off the end off the board. Smiling, he looks quite satisfied.
“JP must be smoking something. I don't know a Ron or Curtis”
He walks away from the table and grabs his gyms bag by the door. He surveys the man cave and turns off the lights just before walking out the door to head downtown to work out and prepare for Sundays challenge.
Philip Burns eyeballs his phone which is sitting on the coffee table vibrating
Why? Who is it?
The familiar voice of JP Rush asks from the other side of the room.
Burns: Oh who isn't it? Every joker in nCw with a microphone is all over me with questions. All I am hearing about is losing to Smokin' Aces, Angel jumping down my throat, and this match with Dirty Deal.
JP: I can imagine. I didn't know Angel was going to react like that. He cant be serious about you costing him matches.
Burns: Every defeat we have been handed was the results of some sort of trickery or numbers game. Thats not an excuse, thats a FACT. Burning Angels is indestructible and a dominant tag team and nothing will change that. Its not how often you win, its WHEN you when.
The phone lights up and vibrates again
Burns: Oh for the love of Christ I am getting sick of this.
Burns answers the call.
Burns: Hi Carly. No I do not want to give you an interview. No I do not want to tickle you whispering eye, and no I DO NOT want to talk about your one-time lover Mike Honcho.
Because I am sick of talking. I just want to put Dirty Deal out and be done with this nonsense.
Burns slams his phone shut and puts it back on the table. He stands up and walks around the room to the pool table and grabs a cue.
Burns: Hey Rush, have you ever wondered what the name “Dirty Deal” is all about? I mean seriously! Have these guys not noticed their team name is another way of saying unclean penis? These are the most clueless excuses of flesh I have ever seen.
Burns takes a shot at the cue ball and we hear more than one ball being sunk into a pocket but we cant see which ones.
JP: I get what you are saying. I fully expect you to beat them. Hell I bet if you get ones of those shirts that say “How do you keep an idiot busy for a ten count? Read the other side” and put it on a fan the match would never even start. Why the hell would they order a lynch mob match? Man Ive got almost a foot and about 80 pounds on you and I wouldn't even want to be anywhere near that. You were once a student of Spike Kane, the God of Xtreme! You defeated Mark Evil for the Xtreme Championship is such a dominant fashion he was never the same again Lord rest his soul.
Burns takes another shot and inadvertently jumps the white ball off the table. He chuckles a bit, being the first to admit that billiards is not his strongest point. He walks over to pick it up an places it back on the table. He lays the stick down across the green felt and turns his attention instead to another side of the room where a shuffleboard table sits. Thats right, Philip Burns lives in a man cave. Its full of Bar games, video games, and pictures of dogs playing poker. Hey, its better than the dog pictures that Dirty Deal have. You don't even want to know.
Burns: Yes Mark Evil. I barely remember the rage of that night. I massacred him. Lynch mob match? Please. I am gonna string up Dirty Deal like a classic strat and play to sweet song of victory. When this is all over they are really going to wish they had downloaded the Burning Angels app from the Apple Store.
JP: The what?
Burns takes his first puck and slides it down the shuffleboard table. It lands in the “1” section.
Burns: Damn. Oh you didn't know about that? You just get on your iPhone and put your name into this app and them it declares you the loser in a match versus Burning Angels.
JP: I don't get it...
Burns: Well its a choice between paying 99 cents to lose or actually having to get your ass handed to you to lose. IF Dirty Deal were smart, which they are not they would just buy the app.
JP: classic. I cant help but notice though, you only refer to them as “Dirty Deal” Do you not know their individual names?
Burns takes his second puck and slide it down the table only to have it fall off the edge. He then looks at JP with a dead serious straight face.
Burns: No I do not. Leave it at that.
JP, who has been sitting this entire time stands up and walks over to Phil and gives him a friendly yet thunderous slap/pat on the back.
JP: Well you certainly seem terrified of Ron and Curtis. I'm gonna head out for some strange and leave you to “train”. Catch you later man.
Burns bids him farewell and locks concentration onto this last puck, he slides it down the table with grace and determination. Its lands in the “3” section, hanging slightly off the end off the board. Smiling, he looks quite satisfied.
“JP must be smoking something. I don't know a Ron or Curtis”
He walks away from the table and grabs his gyms bag by the door. He surveys the man cave and turns off the lights just before walking out the door to head downtown to work out and prepare for Sundays challenge.