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| The Lord of the Reign|
The Titan Tower
Volume II, Chapter Five
ďIn Which Bret Hart Talks to Himself for an HourĒ
Flair, Tazz, Jericho, Heyman and Orton look on as Stacy hands Snickers Crunchers to Haas and Jackie.
Stacy: Itís, like, totally awful that RAW is killing Smackdown in all these cities. Next thing youíll know weíll be cancelled.
Jackie: So whereís Dawn?
Stacy: Oh, sheís probably dead.
Flair: Triple H is a cerebral assassin. He knows exactly what heís doing. Weíve got to surprise him. Have some of our guys show up on RAW and attack Maven or something. Thatíll show him! WOO!
Jericho: We could probably get some other guys together. Cenaís out there right now looking for his chain gang. Heíd probably come back.
Heyman: Nah. To tell you the truth, I canít afford to pay Cena right now anyway. Besides, even with him, weíd still lose, and I donít want to have to fire them all again. Smackdown is doomed to be replaced by Rollerjam.
Jericho: With an attitude like that itís no wonder you got run off TNN.
Heyman: Whoís the General Manager here? Huh? I look around and I donít see one door marked ďChris Jericho - Smackdown GMĒ but, hey look, hereís one that says ďPaul Heyman - Smackdown GMĒ.
Tazz: And one that says Stephanie, one that says Michael Cole, one that says Kurt Angle, one that says David Arque-
Heyman: The doors say a lot of things. But none of them, none says ďChris Jericho.Ē
Flair: Then, what are you going to do?
Later that day, outsideÖ.
London: Uh, itís time to go to the next show, guys. Las Vegas, baby! Yay! Right?
Various puzzled production people and interns stare at London.
London: Hey, look. I know Iím the only guy left, but Iíve really got to make the most of this. Itís pretty much the closest Iíll ever get to being World Champion. Hell, Iíve gotta be the de facto champ as it is right? Load up the ring and the set and everything else, and letís go!
Tazz: Oh, man, Cole. I canít believe this! Weíre actually going to Las Vegas, brotha! Weíve only got one superstar, and itís Paul London. Weíre never gonna win this war.
Cole: Michael Cole and Tazz at ringside!
Tazz: Actually, Cole, weíre standing outside the arena.
Cole: Michael Cole and Tazz at ring-
Tazz: Yeah, yeah.
Jericho: Heymanís just trying to press on despite overwhelming odds. Itís all he can do. Good on him for that, I guess.
Cole: I dress myself now, mom!
Flair: Vegas, baby! Time to style, WOO, and profile. But itís really too bad. Thereís no getting out of Vegas for Smackdown. Heymanís leading them too close to WrestleMania, itís the perfect opportunity for Triple H to destroy him once and for all.
Jericho: A few superstars have agreed to meet us there-
London: Really? Aw, dammit.
Jericho: -maybe itíll be enough to save the show.
Flair: Oh, I doubt it. But I have an idea. Iím going to leave all this up to you. Watch the clock, Chris.
Jericho: Ortonís? Or one that shows the correct time?
Orton: Itís forty-eleven!-
Cole: -at ringside!
Flair: The ring clock. When it comes up to 30, Iíll enter with my mystery, WOO, By God partner, and weíll clean the floor with them. Watch the entrance ramp.
Jericho: I will.
Cole & Orton: Iím a big kid now!
Flair hops into his white limo and drives off, leaving Jericho to stare off into the distance, wondering what the hell Flair was babbling about. Later that day, Stacy Keibler is practicing her spin kicks. Jericho blocks one that gets a little too close.
Jericho: Hey! Look at you! Youíre almost learning how to wrestle.
Stacy: I know, isnít it risky of me? If I get caught learning to wrestle, theyíd probably fire me. But I figure if RAW ever attacks, Iíd better at least have a spin kick to defend myself.
Jericho: Yeah, I guess that makes some kind of sense.
Stacy: But at the end of the day. Iím just a Diva. If you need me, Iíll be dancing in that cage in the background.
Jericho: Yeah, hey, werenít you one of the Nitro Girls? Thatíll be good for you.
Eric Bischoff, meanwhile, is joining up with Triple H at RAW in Oklahoma.
Bischoff: Hunter! Hey! Hey! Iím back, man. No, needÖ uhÖ no need to welcome me. Listen, Heyman has the Smackdown staff and a few of the guys headed for Vegas. Theyíre going to try to hole up there and use the tourists to keep them alive while they ride out the RAW dominance. But really, all theyíve got is Paul London and some producers right now. Maybe a catering crew and some make up ladies.
Triple H: Billy!
Billy Gunn: Yes?
Triple H: I want the DX Army to mount up. Send them out after the Smackdown personnel.
Gunn: Thatís probably not going to be enough people, Hunter. Itís just me, Road Dogg and X-Pac.
Triple H: Just pick up some jobbers and make them unofficial members or something. Get Justin Credible or spraypaint a stranger green and put oil in his hair. Do I have to do everything for you people?
Elsewhere, Benoit, Dreamer and the Hitman are walking straight north.
Dreamer: Oh great. Yeah. Tell us when we get to Canadian customs so I can get out my birth certificate.
Benoit: Knock it off, Tommy.
Benoit: He knows where heís going. Quit bothering him about it.
Dreamer: Christ. Listen to yourself, Benoit. Weíre going north, and last time I checked California is west. The only thing Bret cares about is the title, and if he ever gets it in Canada, heíll never give it up. Ever.
Benoit: Hey, youíve got no idea of what heís gone through in his career. The Montreal screw job, Owen dying, Stu and Helen dying-
Dreamer: Air being breathable, tuna being fish, thatís life, Chris. The both of you should just get over it.
Benoit: I think I can turn him, Tommy.
Dreamer: And I think I can eat a sandwich the size of Denmark and beat someone outside a hardcore match, for a title. But weíre both probably just stupid.
Benoit: Oh, whatever. You donít know what youíre talking aboot.
Dreamer: I know whatís got you all wound up, itís the title. Youíre getting full of yourself and your opinions. Soon youíre going to be putting yourself over up and coming superstars and cutting 30-minute promos.
Benoit: Oh, shove it, Dreamer-
Dreamer: Okay, 6-minute promos-
Benoit: Iíve got this big quest here. Iíve got to save the industry and waltz right into WrestleMania and throw the title in the trash. Iím the only guy to be champion right now. What would you know?
Dreamer: I was ECW Champion once you know. For, like, two minutes.
That night, Tommy and Benoit doze in their tent, while Bret sits on a rock and stares off into the distance.
Hitman: Howís it goiní?
Bret: Oh, gee, Iím surprised youíre even talking to me after all this time.
Hitman: Wow, this concussion thing really messed me up, didnít it?
Bret: Well, apparently, stupid. Normal people donít sit on rocks and talk to themselves.
Hitman: I just wanted to let you know, Iím going to help Benoit.
Bret: Oh come on, Bret, listen to yourself.
Hitman: No, no. You listen, mister. Benoitís a good kid, and this is the right thing.
Bret: Just like it was the right thing to drop the title to Michaels on PPV before we left for WCW?
Hitman: That was different.
Bret: No. No different. Only different in your mind.
Hitman: And your point being? This is my mind.
Bret: Yeah, yeah. I know. Itís just- arenít you just the teensiest bit interested in being champion again.
Bret: Think of the DVD sales!
Hitman: No! No! Youíre bad for the business.
Bret: Come on.
Hitman: I cast thee out!
Bret: I canít believe this.
Hitman: I CAST THEE OUT!
The Hitman falls off the rock.
Hitman: Man, I really didnít need that last rum and coke. But at least I got all that out of my system. Right?
Hitman: Hey! Okay. Good. Time for bed.
The next day, Dreamer is cooking breakfast while Hitman lies huddled in a corner.
Benoit: Are you alright, Hitman?
Hitman: Iím waaaaaay hungover, Chris. Way. Oh, Jesus. Oh, Jesus Christ. Auugggggghhh.
Benoit: Yeah, you were up all damn night yelling at yourself.
Hitman: Yeah. I sure was. I got kinda loaded, so I hit the 7-11. I only wanted to get a pressed Cuban sandwich, but I realized there was about 5 minutes to go before Beer Oíclock, so I got an extra sixer on the off chance you guys woke up and wanted some. But you were knocked out, so drank the six of Molson myself, Ďcause itíd be warm by morning. Then I realized I was still hungry, so I went back by the 7-11 and got some Funyuns and Pemmican. Those were awesome. I think I fell down once, because I got this big-ass bruise on my right arm. Anyway, I also picked us up about two Gatorades for each of us, and a newspaper if you guys want to do some crosswords on the crapper.
Dreamer: Dude, how much did that set you back?
Hitman: Donít worry about it. I put it on my card. You guys can get me back later. Oh, man, I almost forgot: I bought us all these microwavable burritos. Weíve gotta eat these, because my head feels like there were trucks in there last night. Here, eat. But I dibs the shredded beef one.
Dreamer: Donít you want to cook them in our WWE Brand Solar Powered Microwaves first?
Hitman: MICROWAVED Microwavable burritos? Oh, God, Iíll puke.
Benoit: Youíre just going to eat them cold?
Dreamer: Without any churros on the side?
Hitman: ChurrosÖ are you trying to make me blow?
Dreamer: Dude, youíre gross.
Benoit: Iím with Tommy on this one.
Hitman: Fine, fine. Cook the bastards. When the clerk wasnít looking I stole this bottle of Booneís anyway. Gimme a minute to get straight. Hair oí the dog. Thatíll set me up.
Hitman starts taking huge plugs out of the bottle of Booneís. He letís Dreamer zap the burritos, and they swap sections of the morning paper. Just as the morningís repast is winding down and each is thoughtfully sipping on Gatorade (orange - the only choice), Benoit hears something.
Benoit: Hey, whatís that music?
Hitman: Huh? Oh. that. Itís the goddamn theme from DX. Theyíre getting ready. And goddamn, thatís loud.
Benoit: Getting ready to do what?
Dreamer: Getting ready to Suuuuuuuck Iiiiiiiiiit!
Hitman: Thatís not funny you know.
Benoit: So the RAW v. Smackdown war has begun. Signaled by the return of the nWo and DX.
Dreamer: Woah! Would you look at that? Abyss. Nobody will believe this.
Benoit: Why not?
Dreamer: I meanÖ itís a little weird isnít it? Abyss on RAW?
Benoit: Nah, this is about the time theyíll start raiding TNA for guys.
Dreamer: Oh. Yeah. What a downer you are.
Benoit: Geez, sorry. Hey, whereís the Hitman?
Benoit and Dreamer spin and run right into a raised chair. They are soon handcuffed.
Edge: What have we here?
On the way to Las Vegas, The 33% Society leads the producers and jobbers ahead.
Tazz: No, there have been female announcers. Really, there have. But did you hear Lita or Jackie? Sucked, brotha, let me tell you. So itís not really common.
Jericho: Youíre holding them down, Tazz.
Tazz: Listen, brotha, itís not easy being an announcer. Sure every metrosexual or guy in a funny hat is given a job, but to be a real announcer, an announcer like Tazz, I-
Tazz falls off his ATV. It keeps on rolling away.
Tazz: UhÖ somebody wanna go get my ATV for me?
Later that night, Jericho falls asleep. Big poofy clouds surround the scene as Trish Stratus straddles him.
Jericho: Oh, man. I must be dreaming.
Trish: Why? You canít believe Iím all up on you?
Jericho: No, Iíve never been on poofy clouds before, and I sure as hell wasnít a few seconds ago when I lay on the dirt to go to sleep.
Trish: That sucks. Yeah. Hey, so when are you going to win the WWE Title?
Jericho: Never. Donít you pay any attention?
Trish: You totally deserve it.
Jericho: Tell that to the people who matter.
Trish: Are you saying I donít matter?
Jericho: No, thatís not what I meant. I-
Trish: Because, if I donít matter, I guess I could-
Jericho: Hey, isnít this still sort of my dream?
Trish: Oh, yeah. Sorry, weíre talking, but we might just be in your head. Plus, even if this were real, it wouldnít be a real depiction of an equal relationship, you big burning hunk of man. See, Iím all girly and winsome now!
Jericho: Poofy cloudsÖ girlÖ mmm. I miss you, Trish.
Trish: Youíll win it again. Some day. Some day.
Jericho wakes up and hops back on his ATV - only slightly spraining his crotch in the process. The Smackdown crew awakes and continues to ride on. Stacy pulls up along side him.
Stacy: Nice cleavage pendant, who gave you that.
Jericho: Obviously not you.
Stacy: Mine is an Ass pendant.
Jericho: Here comes the mist.
Mist fills the road causing several drivers to crash into each other. Jericho now stands in a luxury box, looking over the ring while Trish practices her T-Shirt gun shooting. Shane McMahon approaches.
Shane: This is what sheís reduced to?
Jericho: Youíre blaming me? She started it.
Shane: Let her go west to the East. They wonít remember her retirement there. She can have a fresh start.
Jericho: She stays because she thinks she can help.
Shane: Help whom? You? Do you really need a valet?
Jericho: Does a valet mean having credibility again?
Shane: No. I was once a valet, and I almost died fighting real wrestlers.
Jericho: I remember fighting real wrestlers.
Shane: You have a long memory.
Jericho hops over the windowsill and walks down to the ring, to speak to Trish.
Jericho: Go. Go to Japan. You can wrestle the Joshi women.
Trish: What? Why do you want me to leave all of a sudden?
Jericho: I donít want you to get dragged down by being in any more of my crappy storylines. Hereís your pendant back.
Trish: Keep it. I have, like, 400 more.
The mist clears.
Stacy: What the heck was that about?
Jericho: Sheís on her way to Japan right now.
London: Does anybody else hear the DX theme?
Theodore Long: I sure do, Playa. Buhleedat!
X-Pac flies off a cliff above them and nails London with the X-Factor. Heís about to tell Teddy to ďSuck ItĒ when heís nailed by an RKO out of nowhere from Orton.
Orton: I canít believe I let that greasy hair touch me. What was I thinking?
Tazz: Shut up. Youíre just more moisturized and sunblocked.
Orton: SPF to Orton!!!!
Heyman: Whatís going on here?
Orton picks up X-PacÖ.
Orton: Look, sir, droids. HahahahaÖ. Iíve always wanted to say that. But seriouslyÖ I donít know. What are droids? Hunter tried to get me to take some, but I said no way. Iím not gay!
Jericho: Thatís X-Pac. DX is on the way!
Heyman: Anybody who can throw a punch, go up front, get your clotheslines ready!
Tazz: Iím gonna suplex somebodyís teeth out, brotha!
Heyman: Stacy, keep on going to Vegas, weíll head DX off.
Stacy: But I can kick!
Heyman: Sure you can. Sure you can.
Stacy: Whatever! Ok, come on, stupid people, letís go to Vegas. Iíve, like, totally got a friend that works at the Luxor. We can stay there.
The Smackdown Ring Crew along with Long, Heyman, Jericho, Tazz, Orton and a few scattered roadies ride head on to meet DX in combat. Tazz reaches out to suplex Road Dogg, but his arms are too stubby, and by the time he gets there Orton has already hit the RKO.
Tazz: Goddammit, let me suplex somebody!
The fight rages on as the DX rejects and Smackdown roadies seem to be pretty evenly matched in terms of how much they suck. Tazz attempts to suplex Viscera, but gets trapped underneath him after Orton flies above and hits an RKO out of nowhere. As things are wrapping up and Smackdown is winning, Jerichoís ponytail gets caught in Justin Credibleís motor scooter, and the scooter pulls Jericho over a cliff and into the Colorado River.
Orton: That was AWESOME! Did everybody see how great I was?
Tazz: Oh, I saw it all right, brotha.
Orton: Hey, whereís Jericho? I wonder if he saw it?
Tazz: Chris? CHRIS?
Orton picks up Justin Credibleís body and swipes the cleavage pendant.
Orton: Hey! Youíre ugly. You donít even have a clompass. (he bonks Credible on the head with his clock necklass) I can tell what time it is. Itís North!
Tazz: Tell me where Jericho is, Justin, or so help me Iíll choke your ass the hell out, brotha!
Credible: Iím already dying, Tazz. He fell off that cliff, now his body is floating down the river.
Credible: And thatís not just the coolest-
Orton: Back to the group then. Thatís where snacks are found.
Credible: Thatís not just the best.
Tazz: To Vegas!
Credible: Thatís JustÖ Incredible.
Heyman: Justin, I know this is a bad time. But, what the hell? Can I have a dollar?
Justin Credible has fallen. Heyman picks his pocket.
Volume II, Chapter Six
ďIn Which the WWE Prepares for a Royal RumbleĒ
Stacy and the rest of the Smackdown staff meet up with the cast of unbelievably lame Smackdown ďSuperstarsĒ that agreed to join them at the Luxor.
Sable: This is what we got? Iím going to go get fired again.
Stacy: Have fun hanging out with Johnny B. Badd!
Haas and Dawn Marie make out for a few minutes while everyone looks away uncomfortably.
Haas: Oh snap! Hey, look! Everybodyís back!
The remains of the ring crew and roadies that stayed to fight DX file into the lobby.
Stacy: Hi, Paul E. Wow, you guys got your asses kicked.
Tazz: Brotha, I gotta tell you something. We lost Chris Jericho.
Stacy: (sniffling) HeÖ he died?
Tazz: No, no. We just canít find him. BahahahahaÖ Iím just kidding.
Stacy: So heís ok?
Tazz: Hahahaha, got ya again. Heís dead.
Stacy: No, really?
Tazz: Okay, Stacy, lemme make this easy for you to understand. My friend Joey Numbers always had this joke. ďWhyíd the monkey fall out of the tree?Ē
Stacy: I donít know. Why?
Tazz: ďĎCause it was DEAD!Ē Ah, hahahahaha!
Stacy: So youíre saying Jericho killed a monkey?
Tazz: Uh, no.
Stacy: So maybe he and a monkey got lost?
Tazz: UhÖ okay. StacyÖ.
Tazz: Jericho was eaten by a monkey. Then someone dropped a bomb on the monkey, and it blew up. Then someone cut that part of the earth away from America, and it drifted off and sunk into the ocean, where someone blew it up again. When it was done blowing up, it blew up again. Then a Space Monkey ate it and blew up. Jerichoís dead.
Stacy: Noooooo! Would my spin-kick have helped?
Heyman: Only if the ocean was a washing machine. Okay. Letís get focused. Mount up the troops and have them watching the Strip. Weíll see them coming!
Theodore: What about the producers and women, playa? Donít haterize.
Heyman: Put them in the hotel. Triple H would be an idiot to attack us in Vegas.
Bischoff: Are they kidding? Itís totally going to be easy to attack them in Vegas. First, thereís an old monorail line going from the Excalibur to the Luxor. Get it running and weíll be inside the frigginí hotel. But I donít know how one gets a monorail going.
Triple H: Simple. A train.
Bischoff: No, no. That joke got used once already.
Triple H: Damn. Okay, Iíve got nothing then. Maybe Dave can cook something up.
Bischoff: Your hopes lie in the planning power of Batista?
Triple H: Yeah. I admit, thatís pretty messed up right there.
Bischoff: He used to live in a swamp.
Triple H: I know, I know. Now shut up.
Triple H lights a pyro, and Booker T dances out.
Triple H: Booker, itís a NEW DAY for the WWE. Get the troops together, and march them out to Vegas. No gambling, no hookers. Itís time for a Royal Rumble with Smackdown.
Booker: I dig it.
Triple H: Remember when I said ďyour peopleĒ couldnít win?
Booker: You damn skippy, hippie!
Triple H: I didnít mean that as a black thing. I meant that as a ďyou not being me thing.Ē
Booker: That makes it all better.
Triple H: But now that youíre with us, the future is open. In another seven or eight years, you will have a number-one contenderís match to vie for my belt.
Booker: I can dig thatÖ SUCKAAAAAAAAA!
Triple H: Yes! Yesssss! Indeed, as you say, ďsucker.Ē
In the forestÖ.
Regal: Itís not that I donít want to believe you, chaps, itís just that I donít.
Chavo: Look over there, holmes! Pyro.
Regal: Itís a RAW show. Thereís always that obnoxious pyro.
Chavo: RAW, huh?
Regal: There was a time once, long ago, when Triple H used to hang out with us technical wrestlers, use all sorts of neat moves. He was a really good wrestler there for a while. Then he got it on with the bossí daughter, got all that booking power, and now all he does is brawl. Bugger him anyway.
Eddie: See that? Itís the nWo, esse. Hunterís going to war, holmes.
Meanwhile, the Colorado river spits Jericho out, and Trish Stratus catches him as he hits the reservoir below.
Jericho: Ow! Are you my mother?
Trish: ShhÖ Iím imaginary.
Jericho: What? Where are the poofy clouds? Why am I imagining you right now?
Trish: Probably because being nearly drowned knocked the crap out of you.
Jericho: Where am I?
Trish: Based on our surroundings, Iím guessing weíre in the Grand Canyon, but I canít tell you anything you canít figure out for your self, because, once again, Iím imaginary.
Jericho: Hot damn. Take off your top.
Trish: Your imagination isnít that good. Think of having a belt and credibility.
Jericho: My imagination isnít that good, either. How about the belt, and you topless?
Trish: Your imagination time has run out. Please deposit 25 cents.
Jericho: I bet the uppercard guys donít have to nickel and dime ImagiNudity.
Jeff Hardy: Did you say ďImagiĒ?
Jericho: Piss off! Now I know I hit my head.
Jeff Hardy: I could read you some of my emoetry.
Jericho: Ugggh. Iím gonna be sick.
Elsewhere, Shane McMahon stands in Seattle where Trish Stratus is preparing to leave Velocity forever.
Shane: Trish, youíve really got to go to Japan. Itís a complete waste of time for you to stay. I mean, whatís keeping you here? Jericho? You know very well whatís going to happen to Jericho. Heís going to claw his way back up to the top of the card, and then heís going to get his ass Pedigreed straight back down. Then heíll retire and the two of you will get into a huge drunken bar brawl. Iím just saving you a lot of grief, here. You donít want to associate with a guy like that. Go shack up with TAKA and wrestle, baby girl. Thatís what youíre good at.
Trish: Maybe youíre right.
Shane: Of course I am. Now go. Booyah!
Trish: Okay, but, before I goÖ can I ask you something? Have you ever felt youíve been part of a dream that was somehow coin-operated?
Shane: My heart says yes, but the rest of me wants to back slowly away.
Trish gets on the bus headed to the docks. Meanwhile, back in Louisiana, Stephanie is making trouble.
Stephanie: Shane! SHANE! Can you hear me? Have you noticed lately that Hunter is running around killing everybodyís pushes? Heís going to knock off the hopes of the entire midcard and all of Smackdown in Vegas. Plus, I doubt if Benoit is going to last all the way to WrestleMania. This will end his career one way or another, and I always thought it would be the writing that got him. Look who heís with! Edge! Could you just imagine? Edge taking the Undisputed Title and spearing everyone until he goes nuts? But come on. Send over your guys from Velocity. Donít let Smackdown die.
In San Francisco, Edge stands outside the Cow Palace and frowns.
Edge: I could have sworn thereíd be a show here tonight.
Al Snow: Hell, I donít know. Iím just counting my lucky stars that I get to put in a cameo.
Edge: Yeah, but you know that youíre totally going to die, right?
Snow: Yeah. Yeah.
Edge: So here we are. Right down the road from WrestleMania itself, with Triple H and Vince McMahon out to knock us off forever. What can we do? Nothing. Itís absolutely heinous.
Snow: ďIn the criminal justice system, sexually-based offenses are considered especially heinousÖ.Ē
Snow: Iím just practicing. I figure maybe I can get a job doing voice-over work.
Edge: Uh, whatever. (to Dreamer) And what about you? Huh? You here to represent Hunter or Vince?
Dreamer: What? No, no! Weíre not representing either one!
Edge: Oh yeah? Whose side are you on, then?
Benoit: We come representing ourselves, though our closest association is Smackdown.
Edge: And you?
Dreamer: ECW, sir. Or OVW, now, I guess.
Edge: And what about the other guy? The one who looks like Gangrel?
Benoit: Are you talking about that awful wig Orton is wearing? I mean we were with a bunch of other guys before, like a stable, but nowÖ not so much. But, hey, we rocked. We had Flair and Jericho and Tazz and Orton and Eddie and Chavo and Christian and-
Edge: Christian? What do you know about my brother?
Benoit: He was okay. Kind of whiny and annoying, but then again, in this company, who isnít?
Edge: Oh yeah? Well now heís dead.
Benoit: Really? Thatís too bad.
Edge: Yeah, somebody totally put a cap in his ass.
Snow: Hey, we found that thing we talked about earlier.
Edge: Come with me, Mr. Benoit.
They walk up to the roof, Edge points down in a nearby alley where Bret Hart is digging through the trash.
Hitman: We used to come here all the time when I was in WCW. You canít tell me there isnít any Hitman merchandise in here. Come on.
Edge: Now thatís just gross. Iím planning on having my buddy Al slam a garbage can on his head.
Al Snow peeks around the street corner and waves at them.
Edge: So, whatíll it be? Shall I make Bret Pancakes?
Hitman: Aha! A Bret Teddy Bear. Come on, little buddy. We can be friends, canít we? You wonít screw me.
Edge signals for Al to start, but Benoit stops him.
Benoit: No. Donít. Thatís Bret Frigginí Hart, man. Whereís your sense of countrymanship? And you think he looks like Gangrel?
Edge: It was from far away and it was dark. What the hell has he done to his hair? And are those Hammer Pants?
Benoit: Hitman! Hey, buddy. Come on into the arena. Iím gonna buy you some popcorn.
Hitman: Popcorn? Really? Awesome.
Bret turns the corner and Al whacks him with Head.
Benoit: Donít hurt him please. Hitman, come on! They wonít hurt you again!
Later that evening, Bret is dragged into Edgeís office.
Edge: Where were you chumpstains going?
Bret: Good question, where were we going?
Hitman: I told you to go away.
Edge: Iím not going anywhere.
Hitman: No, not you. Him.
Bret: Well, Iím not going anywhere either.
Edge: Of course youíre not.
Bret: Shut up for a second would you? Iím trying to get to the bottom of something.
Hitman: No, you shut up.
Edge: I did.
Hitman: Not you, him.
Hitman: I canít believe Benoit screwed us.
Bret: Oh, Benoit screwed us all right, and I hope he breaks his neck again.
Hitman: That wouldnít be very nice. After all heís done.
Bret: What has he done? He stole our belt.
Bret: The precious.
In a janitorís closet, Benoit and Dreamer tire of playing spin the ammonia bottle.
Dreamer: You know what? Letís kick down the door. Iíll distract everyone by hitting them with this mop and you can run off to ĎMania. Quick, put on the belt and make the power go out.
Benoit: Oh yeah, that wouldnít get Vinceís attention at all.
Dreamer: You got any better ideas?
The door swings open.
Edge: Iíve got one. Whoíd have thunk it? Edge with an opportunity for the Undisputed Title. Can you imagine it? WWE Champion Edge?
Dreamer: Oh, come on, Edge. Let Benoit keep the belt. Weíre on our way to WrestleMania. Heís going to throw it away live on PPV. Let Benoit have this one little victory, wonít you?
Coach: Jonathan Coachman here with Edge, and Edge, Iíve gotta tell you, Phoenix is under attack!
Dreamer: There you go, let us go and you guys go off to Arizona.
Edge: Or we take you on our charter plane with us. Letís go.
Benoit: This isnít going to end well. I can tell already.
To be continued...
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|Wolfram J. Paulovich
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From: Fat City, Baby
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|AIM: || ||#2 Posted on 4.3.05 2233.30 |
Reposted on: 4.3.12 2233.30
| So, what? I only get "(with Jeb Tennyson Lund)" credit on OO? And not on any one of the previous three parts? This is no mere oversight; this is an outrage! And outrageous. And rage-outra inducing! |
Why, I have half a mind to unwrite all those things. Just you wait until I get my time machine. Then you'll see!
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|AIM: || ||#3 Posted on 4.3.05 2312.03 |
Reposted on: 4.3.12 2312.08
Originally posted by Jeb Tennyson Lund
So, what? I only get "(with Jeb Tennyson Lund)" credit on OO? And not on any one of the previous three parts? This is no mere oversight; this is an outrage! And outrageous. And rage-outra inducing!
Why, I have half a mind to unwrite all those things. Just you wait until I get my time machine. Then you'll see!
Hey, now. The W is subject to my cut-and-paste-halfassery, thus I don't even credit myself for writing it.
That's it though, when time comes to thank you at the end of the third one, you're getting nothing.
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