Post by Your JESUS on Jun 5, 2008 22:08:17 GMT -4
Sitting in a rental car in the drive thru of Carls Jr., Sabur pulls up to the menu to order. The Irish Hammer then orders a Famous Star combo without cheese, no onions and no tomato's, he then upsizes the drink and asks for a Dr. Pepper. The voice answers from the squawk box with the total, the Hammer then pulls forward a bit waiting for the car in front of him, a few minutes pass as it them becomes Sabur's turn at the window. The APW superstar then hands over a ten dollar bill to the cashier, as the man then hands the Hammer his large beverage. The cashier hands over the bag of food, and then attempts to hand Sabur back some change, but is stopped by the large muscle bound man.
Sabur: You keep that change, the economy isn't going to fix itself without a little help from people giving it a boost.
Cashier: Cool thanks, oh your Sabur from the APW...
The Irish Hammer then smiles at the cashier.
Cashier: You are my favorite wrestler, I used to love Hacksaw Jim Duggan, but now in my mind he has been replaced by you, although he was an Intercontenital champion, and you, no belts, so you will have to step it up a bit.
Sabur: Gee thanks (As the anger inside the man beast grows)....Jim Duggan...humph!
Cashier: It's cool Man Cow....you'll get there, even John Green grabbed gold a couple of times in his career, yours will come.
Sabur clenches his hand on the steering wheel, then notices he didn't recieve a straw. The cashier quickly passes one out to Sabur, who then pulls the man out of the window by his shirt. The cashier's face is drawn in close to the Irish Hammer. Sabur with an extreme intensity within his eyes, glares at the young man.
Sabur: You know....I fucking hate Jim Duggan, and I hate the fact that people keep talking to me about titles, and history.
Sabur then gooses the gas pedal, the car lunges forward a little pulling the cashier out the window more.
Sabur: I tell you what kid....you will never forget the Hammer, and neither will the rest of the world.
Sabur then slams down the gas pedal of the car, the tires sreech as the car lurches forward the cashier is dragged completly out of the drive thru window. Sabur then lets go of the mans shirt as his body crashes to the pavement below the window. Sabur's rental car speeds off as his large hand dives into the bag, and yanks out some steaming hot french fries. The clump of carbed up yummies is smashed into the frothing mouth of the Genetic Powerhouse. Sabur then contiues on to the venue. His car pulls into the back lot of the arena and takes a place in a parking spot. The door flies open, and out steps the Human Carnivor Sabur with Famous Star still on his breath. The big man snatches out his gear for the evenings event. Sabur slings the strap of the bag over his shoulder, he stops as he does so, and thinks to himself how he wished that was title belt resting upon the mass of muscle that is his shoulder, then closes the door of the rental and heads into the arena to check in for the show. He walks over to one of the production managers to let it be known the Irish Hammer has entered the building when the man nods in the direction of Sabur acknowledging that he noticed his presance. The Hammer then heads through the back workings of the arena after being directed to his locker room. He finds the door, and walks in setting his bag down, and has a seat. The locker room of Sex and Violence although not as lavish as say the Church of Kaos locker room, it's no jobber palace, although there isn't much left of Sex and Violence. Tony now has defected, and Trevor is ridled with injuries. Sabur has a seat and leans back to relax for a bit to ease his mind, and forget about somethings before gearing up for his in ring performance.
Meanwhile in the arena about a half an hour prior to the show begining. The fans that have arrived early are yet again for a special treat, although they yet do not know exactly what they are in store for. Then the music of Hardcore Kid hits...the fans begin to stir, rather a little unsure of why they showed up early to see the Hardcore Kid. As the music continues....out from the curtain struts Razor Ryan dressed like THK, with a bandanna around his head with the hair drapped over it, and a leather jacket adorning his upper body. The fans then chuckle at the Bad Guy attemting to preform his best THK impersination as he makes his way toward the ring. The Ryan then snags himself a mic as he enters, then goofily preforms the Hardcore Kid trademark stance (Truthfully I'm stretching here with this one, who knows if he has a trademark stance, cause the fans aren't the only ones taking a shit on THK promo's, snore ZZZZZZZZZZ, good thing they are short). Razor dressed in the THK garb then holds the mic up with his mouth open, and eyes wide, almost as if he is ready to speak those famous Bad Guy words of Hey Yo....Then out it comes....
Ryan: Straight to Hell !!!!!!!!!!!
The fans then chuckle at Ryan, as he then shrugs his shoulders, and throws a smile out to the crowd. The mic then rises back to his mouth and then he speaks again.
Ryan: Now you people are in store for a hell of a treat......
Ryan then looks confussed, then realizes something is missing.
Ryan: Yeah thats it.....there are two members of this loosing team, Ladies and Gentlemen my partner, and one half of the worst...uh I mean best tag team to ever step through the ropes, the ICEMAN.....
The music hits, as the lights turn blue, and a fog hits the stage. A minute of suspense goes by then out walks the Irish Hammer Sabur dressed in the classic Mr. Freeze outfit from Batman. The suit large and akward on the massive muslce frame of the man cow, and Sabur wadles down the aisle toward the ring, half way down the ramp, Sabur stops and shoots a freeze ray gun out to the crowd, and the white mist similar to a fire extingusher sprays into the air, as the fans mixed with laughs and cheers to the mockery that Razor and Sabur are preforming. Sabur enters the ring, and then too grabs a mic, takes a spot center ring,. as Ryan looks at Sabur a little confussed.
Ryan: Hey... you are supossed to be the ICEMAN.
Sabur: Yeah thats who I'm dressed as.
Ryan: No dude your Mr. Freeze
Sabur: Eitherway I'm cold as ice, and twice as nice, and tonight me and THK are going to do what we do best...
Ryan: Lose
Sabur: Easy Kid...I just beat Razor Ryan last week.
Ryan in his THK getup looks at the ridiclous Sabur shocked and a bit pissed, pulls off the bandanna
Ryan: Hey Yo....
Sabur: Yeah I beat him, now since he is used to loosing and pulling the job, it's time to do it one more time, and then on to those tag titles, and we Cold as Hell, will be the next tag champs, tell them Kid.
Sabur then slaps Ryan on the shoulder, as Ryan still shocked that Sabur brought up his loss last week. Sabur shoots him a glance like stick with the charachter. Ryan then snaps back into THK mode, real lazy, no skills on the mic, and very little talent.
Ryan: Thats right Icy,
Sabur: Umm, I love Icy's, the blue ones are the best...
Ryan (slapping five with Sabur) WORD, anyway...wait...hold up. (looking around)....something's missing...
Sabur: A "W" in the win/loss column...
Ryan: Yeah that could be it.
Sabur: Not for me..don't forget I beat the Bad Guy.
Ryan then glares right into the soul of Sabur as the Irish Hammer smirks at his partner.
Ryan: No..I got it we need Cindy Shannon..
Just then some generic music hits the PA sound system, like Tara Jacobs hits the bottom of managements cock. The fans cheer...and out struts Lil Dick dressed in a minature dress, and a wig on. The lil midget stumbles down the ramp, aparently not used to walking in heels. Dick kicks off the shoes, and bare foots it to the ring.
Lil Cindy Dick: Alright fellows...first Iceman...I'm not hot for you, in fact I can't stand you, when I'm all hot and bothered on a late night session of X, it's the Irish Hammer that I strum my puss to, not you Jason, so now that the air is cleared on that, what makes you two think you even capable of becoming tag champions. I mean THK your a dark match contender at best, and Iceman, the biggest acomplishment you have is the win over Razor Ryan....
The fans laugh and ooooh, as Ryan in THK gear turns his back obviously upset with the reference to his loss last week.
Ryan: Hey Yo.....This is bullshit....
Sabur: (pulling off his Mr. Freeze headgear) Listen Bad Guy...We are a good team, and we just need a little more work, but you running around here calling your self a jobber, thats bullshit.
Ryan: Fuck...I lost to Jason Royce, and have been on a loosing tear as of late, then the tag titles, I feel like I let you down.....
SLAP!!!!
Sabur: Hey snap out of it, we come out here and entertain the fans with some fun hy-jenks, and then in the middle of the ring give the competition a run for their money. Anything can happen on any given night, and who doesn't pull a job now and then, hell sometimes doing a job makes the business more fun, and besides lets us examine the wrestling business. You take Triple H in the begining, loosing to guy's like Marc Mero, and Ultimate Warrior, wrestling in pig slop matches, a real jabrone if you ask me...He then slides in, and slips the bosses daughter some steamy sausage, and blammo instant bad ass, no one is better then Triple H, and he's ontop of the ountain, 12 title reigns, and they say he can't be beaten...catch my drift.
Ryan: So I have to find Hurricane Jeffs offspring and fuck it, then we will be legends, and champions.
Sabur: (Holding his hand over his face, shaking his head) No dude, now examine the situation here in APW. Jeff, the president, the man in charge, best friends with Kenny Lambardo, Blammo World champion, and Dianna fiance' of Kaos, who's sister is Tara Jacobs. Blammo Tag Champions, Now when your bangin' premium puss like Dianna, and your buddy is in charge, the best thing you can do is slide you friend the sister of your girl. So basically it's a famlily thing here at the top, I mean hell look at Lively, He gobbles on the salty nuts of Kaos, and there you have it, Championship material. Either Kaos sweats gold, or....well, we will leave it at that, He probally pisses platinum. What I'm trying to tell your Ryan, is you need to wake up, shape up, and step up. I'm not drinking the cool aid, or taking the red pill, I'm walking around here doing what I feel, fucking up whoe ever needs fucking up, and you my friend need to hop on board, or get out of the fucking boat, it'll move faster with less weight.
Sabur drops his mic, and exits the ring, followed by a slightly angered Razor. The two make their way up the ramp as Lil Dick is still in the ring, showing of his legs for the crowd, and lifting his dress up a little to gain some whistles, what an attention whore.
Awhile later the Pyro ignites, and the show is off and running, the dark matches are done, and it's time for the opening constest. The match takes places and then APW goes to commercial as the stage hands begins setting up the makeshift bar at the right of the entranceway during the comercial break. APW interviewer Phil walks out with his black jeans on, and a t-shirt that reads "THE SHITFACE SEAGULL" , he then walks over and takes his place behind the bar, grabs his white towl as the tech crew set him up with a wireless head piece microphone, the crew then scurry's off backstage as the countdown from commercial begins, and then it's live once again.
Phil: Well.....folks glad you could join me at the Shitface Seagull once again, for those of you new to the APW, I'm Phil, and this is my bar.....This week I have beefed up security a bit, and hired me a few big bouncer's, cause frankly this next guest scares me, and assaulted me last week, and as precaution I'm ready for anything. Ladies and Gentlemen, he is on a rampage as of late, and later tonight he is that very ring, in action....Welcome......The Irish Hammer....SABUR!!!!
Deftones "My Own Summer" hits the sound system as the arena goes dark, Sabur walks out to strobing orange lights, and then looks over toward the bar with a deadly stare. The fans Moo the large mass of muscle as he walks over to the bar. Sabur pulls up a stool, and has a seat at the bar. The Irish Hammer places his elbows on the edge of the counter top, looks over at Phil, as the bouncer's quickly take notice. Sabur then stands from the stool looking at the bouncers, and then grabs a mic.
Sabur: Nice....you three fucks think you can tame the wildest beast to be set free, you think you've got what it takes to stop an angry bull, I think not, but Phil you get credit for trying. Simply put...if I want hop the bar and snap your little neck, there isn't a damn thing these monkey's can do about it. The way I see it is, you may have just cost these men some time off from work, cause the won't be much help as bouncer with the treads of my boot stuck in their ass, and their head spun around backwards from me snapping their spines.
The crowd erupts with cheers of the thought of Sabur beating the shit out of bouncer's.
Sabur: Hear that Phil, thousands of people want me to bash through your shitty bouncers, But Phil thats not what I want.....No first I will start off by ordering a drink, Jack and Coke, easy on the Coke. Second I would like to applogize for last week....
Phil: Well thats kind of you Sabur, I knew you where a classy enough man to step up and.....
Sabur: I said I'd like to....but I wont, you see you knew full well what you signed up for as an interviewer in the wrestling business, I mean come on kid this isn't you first rodeo, and I'm sure plenty of people are going to come in down the line, insult you, spit on you, and possibly whip your ass.
The crowd pops with the thought of little Phil getting whipped.
Sabur: Wow now these peole wish to see someone play spin the bottle with you Phil, and then shove it right up your ass......Ha...I like you Phil I really do, and I don't think on this evening, you have much to worry about, but
Phil: Well last week....
Sabur: First thing is first Phil....I'm so glad you set up a nice fancy bar up here away from that ring, you see it seems as of late it's been deemed un-original to walk into the middle of the ring cut a wrestling promo....no, walking around having a camera follow you as you tend to a child's ice cream needs, now thats original. Tara last week said here comes the pain is a cliche', yet running a motorcycle toward the ring then cycling it around the squared circle...that there folks is originality at it's finest.
Sabur then pulls out his cell phone acting like he is recieving a call, and the words can be heard on the mic.
Sabur: Yeah....oh...I'll tell her....(Hangs up the phone) Tara...Mean Mark Calloway just called and said he wants his entrance back you theiving slut...
The crowd pops with excitment
Sabur: Slut...oh thats right your not a slut, you fought for your virginity....I'm sure it was a hard thing to accomplish cause I'm sure the line wasn't really around the block to get a piece of a wide-hipped, grimy, gothic, musty cunt. I mean in High School, the chubby chicks that got no attention, and the rather queer guys of the drama team all dressed in goth, to be shocking, and it's all really not that shocking to me The Dark make-up, or not, I'm sure all the young boys smelled the stench from between your legs, and the sweet from your thighs rubbing together was probally cooking that roast beef sandwich below, so I'm sure all those little eager fellas said "no thanks". Now the Dark Paladin of the Kaotik has brought the pathetic highschool, dark goth style to the APW in another original move, cause that gimmick hasn't come down the pike before. The success that Spirit has achieved is pretty much aligning herself with talented people, and rides their coat tails. In the end of that tag match where was Tara Jacobs....thats right bloodied, and broken out of the ring, while Dianna steped up and snaged the titles.....Hum.
Sabur then takes a drink from the glass, breathes in some fresh air from the arena, and then continues.
Sabur: Tara doesn't step forward, she doesn't walk out and bring the first words.... no she sits in the back waiting for someone to come out with originality, then she sits there like a teacher picking apart someones promo with a red pen like someone getting graded on an essay. Spirit has nothing, and brings nothing to the table, she is a leech, and has latched herself on the talents of others. Dianna Steel shows up her in the APW, to display her talents, and then the leech soon follows, ataching herslef to the neck, sucking the talent filled blood, and basking in the glory of others hardwork. She ran her mouth about the silly gimick's that I ran with...yeah coming up with a comedy relief for the people to tune in for has no creativity involved.
Sabur then takes a deep breath, and then continues.
Sabur: The fans of APW strugle for their hard earned money, each and every week, and when the get off of work, plop down on the couch, flip on the tube. As the screen comes to life.....I'm sure the people of the world wish to forget their misseries or unwind from the daily stress by watching some dark misserable fuck like Raven, Undertaker, or Vampiro.....and now the Musty Cunt Tara Jacobs.....or would they love to be entertained by a smart ass always into something humorous, and midgets, she questions the midget....Midgets are solid gold, and "That" fucking midget would work her over....and thats a shoot....
The fans laugh at the fact Sabur just uttered that Lil Dick would work circles around Spirit.
Sabur: What.....thats just as believable as a dumpy little women getting over on a solid mass of muscle, with arms bigger then both her legs. Now shoot style....I would eat Tara Jacobs for breakfast, spit her rotting bones out, and piss on the remains. Tara wants to spew the garbage that I'm good at beating up on backstage un-trained workers. Yet, she is a APW trained wrestler, exactly trained, not shoot style, trainined....and a trained monkey she is. A foutanate person she is, due to her alliances, and friendships. She lathers up those lips with Black lipstick, cause the managment here has thing for goth, and black rings un the bases of their cocks....thats right bases, cause the Spirit takes it all....deep as it can go....she's "OVER" due to politics...not cause of talent...or origanal thoughts, she's over cause her jaw can unhinge, and her lack of gag reflex....and thats enough on that topic, cause we wouldn't want to disrupt the flow of things here.
.The fans cheer rampidly for their Irish Hammer.
Phil: Well the fact is still the same....you have yet to achieve your goal of becoming a champion....
Sabur: Yes...you have a point...and I have not picked up any straps here yet.
The fans boo at the fact their man cow is title-less thus far in APW.
Sabur: Simmer down...I'm not bitchin' by any means....I have had a number of title shots...and there is no one to blame but myself, so some self reflection was preformed....and wa-la, here we are, a present day Human Wrecking Machine....I'm not gonna bitch and complain about needing a title shot, I didn't do it before...I just earned them, and the next one will be earned, as me and the Bad Guy step foot in that ring once again, against the true Job Squad, Royce and Kid. Really fellas, the facts are simple, you can't hold my nuts let alone wash my jock strap, in the ring you skills are weak, and we are the dominant. The two of them are space filling dark match jabrones, Hell I could go out there by myslef, and give those two bitches a royal beat down. So later on in the middle of that ring, the APW tag team will serve up a feast. You see Rachel Ray can whip up a fancy meal in under thirty minutes....Well Sabur Ray is a cooking, and the menu of the evening is ass whippings. I'm gonna blend up the competition which just happens to be two talentless bottom feeders. The oven is preheated and thats left is to bake up the meal. The fans of the world have already geared up for me and Razor vs. "That Team" for the gold, So in my mind the match is already booked, and all thats left is to bring home the gold. The Genetic Powerhouse is on a mission for blood, My goal is to strap up, and the body count will stack up along the way.
The fans scream with cheers for Sabur, and then simulatneously begin Moo'ing for the Irish Hammer. Sabur downs his drink and then slams the glass down for a refill.
Sabur: I don't care how hard someone hits, cause ask any opponent, I'm no slouch, hell Phil knows, I don't care if your a former World Champion from the twelve grade, or some self proclaimed God, you step in my ring, and your limbs belong to me. Now your life, well thats my present for you to keep, so you can spread the word, the Irish Hammer is sick, Sabur is blood thirsty, and his strength doesn't end, He is just as strong toward the end of the fight as he is in the begining. Let it be known, that ring out there in front of those fans.....it belings to me.....and ALL OF YOU people are just guests....TO MY HOUSE OF PAIN!!!!!
The fans erupt with cheers.
Sabur: Do you hear that Phil.....
Phil Nods in approval.
Sabur: Now Thats is talent....It's a known fact that coming out here and making to people hate you is one of the easier tasks in the world of wrestling, but to walk out here and have the fans hang on your every word....have them show up to shows earlier, just to see what you may or may not be up to...
The fans explode with cheers.
Sabur: Have them chant for you.....or see you dress up as a Thundercat, Nature Boy Ric Flair, talk to cars, play Deal or Shitier Deal, or name a midget after a penis, and still have them begging for more, all while walkng to the ramp and performing night after night in the middle of that ring, that my friends is talent. You see I may not be "OVER", with the management, or the stock holders, or the fourtanate ones, yet the merch flies of the shelves, and the fan base is insane, so fuck what you think... needless to say, The opponents of mine have come out and publicly wished for originality, and begged for something real, so we will leave the drama to the church, and a dull drama they bring, family feuds, and backstabbing, cause that my friends screams original, or General Hospital, or One Life to Live, and from this day forward you will be subjected to weddings which by the way is so 91' ,and church sermons from the CoK, and the Hammer will come out here nail down the competition, and soon lock up those tag titles.
The fans cheer for Sabur, and then begin moo'ing as the Irish Hammer swigs down his next drink, slams it to the floor of the stage. The glass shatters as the bouncer's look ready for the Hammer to do something funny. Sabur walks over toward the group of security, and delivers them a good old fashion crotch chop, and then turns toward the fans with his arms raised in the air. The fans Moo at Sabur who cups his hand to the crowd listening for the calls. The Genetic Powerhouse then cups his hands around his mouth and lets out a loud MOOOO!! to the pleasure of the fans, and then his mouth can be read "There has never been someone like me" he then pounds his fist to his chest with love for the fans. The scene then fades to a commecial segemnt for the upcoming Test for the Best.
Sabur: You keep that change, the economy isn't going to fix itself without a little help from people giving it a boost.
Cashier: Cool thanks, oh your Sabur from the APW...
The Irish Hammer then smiles at the cashier.
Cashier: You are my favorite wrestler, I used to love Hacksaw Jim Duggan, but now in my mind he has been replaced by you, although he was an Intercontenital champion, and you, no belts, so you will have to step it up a bit.
Sabur: Gee thanks (As the anger inside the man beast grows)....Jim Duggan...humph!
Cashier: It's cool Man Cow....you'll get there, even John Green grabbed gold a couple of times in his career, yours will come.
Sabur clenches his hand on the steering wheel, then notices he didn't recieve a straw. The cashier quickly passes one out to Sabur, who then pulls the man out of the window by his shirt. The cashier's face is drawn in close to the Irish Hammer. Sabur with an extreme intensity within his eyes, glares at the young man.
Sabur: You know....I fucking hate Jim Duggan, and I hate the fact that people keep talking to me about titles, and history.
Sabur then gooses the gas pedal, the car lunges forward a little pulling the cashier out the window more.
Sabur: I tell you what kid....you will never forget the Hammer, and neither will the rest of the world.
Sabur then slams down the gas pedal of the car, the tires sreech as the car lurches forward the cashier is dragged completly out of the drive thru window. Sabur then lets go of the mans shirt as his body crashes to the pavement below the window. Sabur's rental car speeds off as his large hand dives into the bag, and yanks out some steaming hot french fries. The clump of carbed up yummies is smashed into the frothing mouth of the Genetic Powerhouse. Sabur then contiues on to the venue. His car pulls into the back lot of the arena and takes a place in a parking spot. The door flies open, and out steps the Human Carnivor Sabur with Famous Star still on his breath. The big man snatches out his gear for the evenings event. Sabur slings the strap of the bag over his shoulder, he stops as he does so, and thinks to himself how he wished that was title belt resting upon the mass of muscle that is his shoulder, then closes the door of the rental and heads into the arena to check in for the show. He walks over to one of the production managers to let it be known the Irish Hammer has entered the building when the man nods in the direction of Sabur acknowledging that he noticed his presance. The Hammer then heads through the back workings of the arena after being directed to his locker room. He finds the door, and walks in setting his bag down, and has a seat. The locker room of Sex and Violence although not as lavish as say the Church of Kaos locker room, it's no jobber palace, although there isn't much left of Sex and Violence. Tony now has defected, and Trevor is ridled with injuries. Sabur has a seat and leans back to relax for a bit to ease his mind, and forget about somethings before gearing up for his in ring performance.
Meanwhile in the arena about a half an hour prior to the show begining. The fans that have arrived early are yet again for a special treat, although they yet do not know exactly what they are in store for. Then the music of Hardcore Kid hits...the fans begin to stir, rather a little unsure of why they showed up early to see the Hardcore Kid. As the music continues....out from the curtain struts Razor Ryan dressed like THK, with a bandanna around his head with the hair drapped over it, and a leather jacket adorning his upper body. The fans then chuckle at the Bad Guy attemting to preform his best THK impersination as he makes his way toward the ring. The Ryan then snags himself a mic as he enters, then goofily preforms the Hardcore Kid trademark stance (Truthfully I'm stretching here with this one, who knows if he has a trademark stance, cause the fans aren't the only ones taking a shit on THK promo's, snore ZZZZZZZZZZ, good thing they are short). Razor dressed in the THK garb then holds the mic up with his mouth open, and eyes wide, almost as if he is ready to speak those famous Bad Guy words of Hey Yo....Then out it comes....
Ryan: Straight to Hell !!!!!!!!!!!
The fans then chuckle at Ryan, as he then shrugs his shoulders, and throws a smile out to the crowd. The mic then rises back to his mouth and then he speaks again.
Ryan: Now you people are in store for a hell of a treat......
Ryan then looks confussed, then realizes something is missing.
Ryan: Yeah thats it.....there are two members of this loosing team, Ladies and Gentlemen my partner, and one half of the worst...uh I mean best tag team to ever step through the ropes, the ICEMAN.....
The music hits, as the lights turn blue, and a fog hits the stage. A minute of suspense goes by then out walks the Irish Hammer Sabur dressed in the classic Mr. Freeze outfit from Batman. The suit large and akward on the massive muslce frame of the man cow, and Sabur wadles down the aisle toward the ring, half way down the ramp, Sabur stops and shoots a freeze ray gun out to the crowd, and the white mist similar to a fire extingusher sprays into the air, as the fans mixed with laughs and cheers to the mockery that Razor and Sabur are preforming. Sabur enters the ring, and then too grabs a mic, takes a spot center ring,. as Ryan looks at Sabur a little confussed.
Ryan: Hey... you are supossed to be the ICEMAN.
Sabur: Yeah thats who I'm dressed as.
Ryan: No dude your Mr. Freeze
Sabur: Eitherway I'm cold as ice, and twice as nice, and tonight me and THK are going to do what we do best...
Ryan: Lose
Sabur: Easy Kid...I just beat Razor Ryan last week.
Ryan in his THK getup looks at the ridiclous Sabur shocked and a bit pissed, pulls off the bandanna
Ryan: Hey Yo....
Sabur: Yeah I beat him, now since he is used to loosing and pulling the job, it's time to do it one more time, and then on to those tag titles, and we Cold as Hell, will be the next tag champs, tell them Kid.
Sabur then slaps Ryan on the shoulder, as Ryan still shocked that Sabur brought up his loss last week. Sabur shoots him a glance like stick with the charachter. Ryan then snaps back into THK mode, real lazy, no skills on the mic, and very little talent.
Ryan: Thats right Icy,
Sabur: Umm, I love Icy's, the blue ones are the best...
Ryan (slapping five with Sabur) WORD, anyway...wait...hold up. (looking around)....something's missing...
Sabur: A "W" in the win/loss column...
Ryan: Yeah that could be it.
Sabur: Not for me..don't forget I beat the Bad Guy.
Ryan then glares right into the soul of Sabur as the Irish Hammer smirks at his partner.
Ryan: No..I got it we need Cindy Shannon..
Just then some generic music hits the PA sound system, like Tara Jacobs hits the bottom of managements cock. The fans cheer...and out struts Lil Dick dressed in a minature dress, and a wig on. The lil midget stumbles down the ramp, aparently not used to walking in heels. Dick kicks off the shoes, and bare foots it to the ring.
Lil Cindy Dick: Alright fellows...first Iceman...I'm not hot for you, in fact I can't stand you, when I'm all hot and bothered on a late night session of X, it's the Irish Hammer that I strum my puss to, not you Jason, so now that the air is cleared on that, what makes you two think you even capable of becoming tag champions. I mean THK your a dark match contender at best, and Iceman, the biggest acomplishment you have is the win over Razor Ryan....
The fans laugh and ooooh, as Ryan in THK gear turns his back obviously upset with the reference to his loss last week.
Ryan: Hey Yo.....This is bullshit....
Sabur: (pulling off his Mr. Freeze headgear) Listen Bad Guy...We are a good team, and we just need a little more work, but you running around here calling your self a jobber, thats bullshit.
Ryan: Fuck...I lost to Jason Royce, and have been on a loosing tear as of late, then the tag titles, I feel like I let you down.....
SLAP!!!!
Sabur: Hey snap out of it, we come out here and entertain the fans with some fun hy-jenks, and then in the middle of the ring give the competition a run for their money. Anything can happen on any given night, and who doesn't pull a job now and then, hell sometimes doing a job makes the business more fun, and besides lets us examine the wrestling business. You take Triple H in the begining, loosing to guy's like Marc Mero, and Ultimate Warrior, wrestling in pig slop matches, a real jabrone if you ask me...He then slides in, and slips the bosses daughter some steamy sausage, and blammo instant bad ass, no one is better then Triple H, and he's ontop of the ountain, 12 title reigns, and they say he can't be beaten...catch my drift.
Ryan: So I have to find Hurricane Jeffs offspring and fuck it, then we will be legends, and champions.
Sabur: (Holding his hand over his face, shaking his head) No dude, now examine the situation here in APW. Jeff, the president, the man in charge, best friends with Kenny Lambardo, Blammo World champion, and Dianna fiance' of Kaos, who's sister is Tara Jacobs. Blammo Tag Champions, Now when your bangin' premium puss like Dianna, and your buddy is in charge, the best thing you can do is slide you friend the sister of your girl. So basically it's a famlily thing here at the top, I mean hell look at Lively, He gobbles on the salty nuts of Kaos, and there you have it, Championship material. Either Kaos sweats gold, or....well, we will leave it at that, He probally pisses platinum. What I'm trying to tell your Ryan, is you need to wake up, shape up, and step up. I'm not drinking the cool aid, or taking the red pill, I'm walking around here doing what I feel, fucking up whoe ever needs fucking up, and you my friend need to hop on board, or get out of the fucking boat, it'll move faster with less weight.
Sabur drops his mic, and exits the ring, followed by a slightly angered Razor. The two make their way up the ramp as Lil Dick is still in the ring, showing of his legs for the crowd, and lifting his dress up a little to gain some whistles, what an attention whore.
Awhile later the Pyro ignites, and the show is off and running, the dark matches are done, and it's time for the opening constest. The match takes places and then APW goes to commercial as the stage hands begins setting up the makeshift bar at the right of the entranceway during the comercial break. APW interviewer Phil walks out with his black jeans on, and a t-shirt that reads "THE SHITFACE SEAGULL" , he then walks over and takes his place behind the bar, grabs his white towl as the tech crew set him up with a wireless head piece microphone, the crew then scurry's off backstage as the countdown from commercial begins, and then it's live once again.
Phil: Well.....folks glad you could join me at the Shitface Seagull once again, for those of you new to the APW, I'm Phil, and this is my bar.....This week I have beefed up security a bit, and hired me a few big bouncer's, cause frankly this next guest scares me, and assaulted me last week, and as precaution I'm ready for anything. Ladies and Gentlemen, he is on a rampage as of late, and later tonight he is that very ring, in action....Welcome......The Irish Hammer....SABUR!!!!
Deftones "My Own Summer" hits the sound system as the arena goes dark, Sabur walks out to strobing orange lights, and then looks over toward the bar with a deadly stare. The fans Moo the large mass of muscle as he walks over to the bar. Sabur pulls up a stool, and has a seat at the bar. The Irish Hammer places his elbows on the edge of the counter top, looks over at Phil, as the bouncer's quickly take notice. Sabur then stands from the stool looking at the bouncers, and then grabs a mic.
Sabur: Nice....you three fucks think you can tame the wildest beast to be set free, you think you've got what it takes to stop an angry bull, I think not, but Phil you get credit for trying. Simply put...if I want hop the bar and snap your little neck, there isn't a damn thing these monkey's can do about it. The way I see it is, you may have just cost these men some time off from work, cause the won't be much help as bouncer with the treads of my boot stuck in their ass, and their head spun around backwards from me snapping their spines.
The crowd erupts with cheers of the thought of Sabur beating the shit out of bouncer's.
Sabur: Hear that Phil, thousands of people want me to bash through your shitty bouncers, But Phil thats not what I want.....No first I will start off by ordering a drink, Jack and Coke, easy on the Coke. Second I would like to applogize for last week....
Phil: Well thats kind of you Sabur, I knew you where a classy enough man to step up and.....
Sabur: I said I'd like to....but I wont, you see you knew full well what you signed up for as an interviewer in the wrestling business, I mean come on kid this isn't you first rodeo, and I'm sure plenty of people are going to come in down the line, insult you, spit on you, and possibly whip your ass.
The crowd pops with the thought of little Phil getting whipped.
Sabur: Wow now these peole wish to see someone play spin the bottle with you Phil, and then shove it right up your ass......Ha...I like you Phil I really do, and I don't think on this evening, you have much to worry about, but
Phil: Well last week....
Sabur: First thing is first Phil....I'm so glad you set up a nice fancy bar up here away from that ring, you see it seems as of late it's been deemed un-original to walk into the middle of the ring cut a wrestling promo....no, walking around having a camera follow you as you tend to a child's ice cream needs, now thats original. Tara last week said here comes the pain is a cliche', yet running a motorcycle toward the ring then cycling it around the squared circle...that there folks is originality at it's finest.
Sabur then pulls out his cell phone acting like he is recieving a call, and the words can be heard on the mic.
Sabur: Yeah....oh...I'll tell her....(Hangs up the phone) Tara...Mean Mark Calloway just called and said he wants his entrance back you theiving slut...
The crowd pops with excitment
Sabur: Slut...oh thats right your not a slut, you fought for your virginity....I'm sure it was a hard thing to accomplish cause I'm sure the line wasn't really around the block to get a piece of a wide-hipped, grimy, gothic, musty cunt. I mean in High School, the chubby chicks that got no attention, and the rather queer guys of the drama team all dressed in goth, to be shocking, and it's all really not that shocking to me The Dark make-up, or not, I'm sure all the young boys smelled the stench from between your legs, and the sweet from your thighs rubbing together was probally cooking that roast beef sandwich below, so I'm sure all those little eager fellas said "no thanks". Now the Dark Paladin of the Kaotik has brought the pathetic highschool, dark goth style to the APW in another original move, cause that gimmick hasn't come down the pike before. The success that Spirit has achieved is pretty much aligning herself with talented people, and rides their coat tails. In the end of that tag match where was Tara Jacobs....thats right bloodied, and broken out of the ring, while Dianna steped up and snaged the titles.....Hum.
Sabur then takes a drink from the glass, breathes in some fresh air from the arena, and then continues.
Sabur: Tara doesn't step forward, she doesn't walk out and bring the first words.... no she sits in the back waiting for someone to come out with originality, then she sits there like a teacher picking apart someones promo with a red pen like someone getting graded on an essay. Spirit has nothing, and brings nothing to the table, she is a leech, and has latched herself on the talents of others. Dianna Steel shows up her in the APW, to display her talents, and then the leech soon follows, ataching herslef to the neck, sucking the talent filled blood, and basking in the glory of others hardwork. She ran her mouth about the silly gimick's that I ran with...yeah coming up with a comedy relief for the people to tune in for has no creativity involved.
Sabur then takes a deep breath, and then continues.
Sabur: The fans of APW strugle for their hard earned money, each and every week, and when the get off of work, plop down on the couch, flip on the tube. As the screen comes to life.....I'm sure the people of the world wish to forget their misseries or unwind from the daily stress by watching some dark misserable fuck like Raven, Undertaker, or Vampiro.....and now the Musty Cunt Tara Jacobs.....or would they love to be entertained by a smart ass always into something humorous, and midgets, she questions the midget....Midgets are solid gold, and "That" fucking midget would work her over....and thats a shoot....
The fans laugh at the fact Sabur just uttered that Lil Dick would work circles around Spirit.
Sabur: What.....thats just as believable as a dumpy little women getting over on a solid mass of muscle, with arms bigger then both her legs. Now shoot style....I would eat Tara Jacobs for breakfast, spit her rotting bones out, and piss on the remains. Tara wants to spew the garbage that I'm good at beating up on backstage un-trained workers. Yet, she is a APW trained wrestler, exactly trained, not shoot style, trainined....and a trained monkey she is. A foutanate person she is, due to her alliances, and friendships. She lathers up those lips with Black lipstick, cause the managment here has thing for goth, and black rings un the bases of their cocks....thats right bases, cause the Spirit takes it all....deep as it can go....she's "OVER" due to politics...not cause of talent...or origanal thoughts, she's over cause her jaw can unhinge, and her lack of gag reflex....and thats enough on that topic, cause we wouldn't want to disrupt the flow of things here.
.The fans cheer rampidly for their Irish Hammer.
Phil: Well the fact is still the same....you have yet to achieve your goal of becoming a champion....
Sabur: Yes...you have a point...and I have not picked up any straps here yet.
The fans boo at the fact their man cow is title-less thus far in APW.
Sabur: Simmer down...I'm not bitchin' by any means....I have had a number of title shots...and there is no one to blame but myself, so some self reflection was preformed....and wa-la, here we are, a present day Human Wrecking Machine....I'm not gonna bitch and complain about needing a title shot, I didn't do it before...I just earned them, and the next one will be earned, as me and the Bad Guy step foot in that ring once again, against the true Job Squad, Royce and Kid. Really fellas, the facts are simple, you can't hold my nuts let alone wash my jock strap, in the ring you skills are weak, and we are the dominant. The two of them are space filling dark match jabrones, Hell I could go out there by myslef, and give those two bitches a royal beat down. So later on in the middle of that ring, the APW tag team will serve up a feast. You see Rachel Ray can whip up a fancy meal in under thirty minutes....Well Sabur Ray is a cooking, and the menu of the evening is ass whippings. I'm gonna blend up the competition which just happens to be two talentless bottom feeders. The oven is preheated and thats left is to bake up the meal. The fans of the world have already geared up for me and Razor vs. "That Team" for the gold, So in my mind the match is already booked, and all thats left is to bring home the gold. The Genetic Powerhouse is on a mission for blood, My goal is to strap up, and the body count will stack up along the way.
The fans scream with cheers for Sabur, and then simulatneously begin Moo'ing for the Irish Hammer. Sabur downs his drink and then slams the glass down for a refill.
Sabur: I don't care how hard someone hits, cause ask any opponent, I'm no slouch, hell Phil knows, I don't care if your a former World Champion from the twelve grade, or some self proclaimed God, you step in my ring, and your limbs belong to me. Now your life, well thats my present for you to keep, so you can spread the word, the Irish Hammer is sick, Sabur is blood thirsty, and his strength doesn't end, He is just as strong toward the end of the fight as he is in the begining. Let it be known, that ring out there in front of those fans.....it belings to me.....and ALL OF YOU people are just guests....TO MY HOUSE OF PAIN!!!!!
The fans erupt with cheers.
Sabur: Do you hear that Phil.....
Phil Nods in approval.
Sabur: Now Thats is talent....It's a known fact that coming out here and making to people hate you is one of the easier tasks in the world of wrestling, but to walk out here and have the fans hang on your every word....have them show up to shows earlier, just to see what you may or may not be up to...
The fans explode with cheers.
Sabur: Have them chant for you.....or see you dress up as a Thundercat, Nature Boy Ric Flair, talk to cars, play Deal or Shitier Deal, or name a midget after a penis, and still have them begging for more, all while walkng to the ramp and performing night after night in the middle of that ring, that my friends is talent. You see I may not be "OVER", with the management, or the stock holders, or the fourtanate ones, yet the merch flies of the shelves, and the fan base is insane, so fuck what you think... needless to say, The opponents of mine have come out and publicly wished for originality, and begged for something real, so we will leave the drama to the church, and a dull drama they bring, family feuds, and backstabbing, cause that my friends screams original, or General Hospital, or One Life to Live, and from this day forward you will be subjected to weddings which by the way is so 91' ,and church sermons from the CoK, and the Hammer will come out here nail down the competition, and soon lock up those tag titles.
The fans cheer for Sabur, and then begin moo'ing as the Irish Hammer swigs down his next drink, slams it to the floor of the stage. The glass shatters as the bouncer's look ready for the Hammer to do something funny. Sabur walks over toward the group of security, and delivers them a good old fashion crotch chop, and then turns toward the fans with his arms raised in the air. The fans Moo at Sabur who cups his hand to the crowd listening for the calls. The Genetic Powerhouse then cups his hands around his mouth and lets out a loud MOOOO!! to the pleasure of the fans, and then his mouth can be read "There has never been someone like me" he then pounds his fist to his chest with love for the fans. The scene then fades to a commecial segemnt for the upcoming Test for the Best.
