Post by "The Hottest Shit Going" on Oct 7, 2009 17:30:59 GMT -4
"Damn it Martha, these fucking roaches just wont die. I keep bug spraying, I bomb the house with pesticide yet these nasty shits keep scampering across my floor."
"Calm Down Wilbur, you know how you get with your blood pressure and all." Martha responds to her husband. "You know what happens when you do everything yourself, remember that bird feeder, and that cabinet for the shed?"
The old man hangs his head as his eyes show a disgusted look. "Yeah I remember, the bird feeder looked more like a toilet, and I nearly took the shed down trying to hang the cabinet. So what do you suggest then Martha, I can't take anymore of these God awful bugs running past me every morning, and every evening when I wake up to pee."
"I already have it handled, I called the Heavenly Pest Control, and they are on their way."
The old man grunts in disapproval as he goes back to reading his morning paper. Martha continues to cook breakfast at the stove when the door bell rings. Wilbur doesn't budge a bit knowing his wife of forty years will be answering the door so he can peacefully read the mornings news. Martha wipes her hands on her apron just and then reaches for the door knob. As she opens the door her eye gaze upon a shocking site. A man dressed in a pair of jeans and a white t0shirt with a hockey mask over his face almost resembling Casey Jones from the Ninja Turtles burst into her doorway. The man has a golf bag slung over his shoulder with an arsenal that would make Casey Jones eat his heart out. A voice mutters out from behind the mask, "Herrile Ess Untrol"
Puzzled Martha looks at the man in confusion. Suddenly the mask is lifted to reveal none other then Michael Lively. "Sorry ma'am Heavenly Pest Control, it's kind of hard to talk with my big whipping mask on." The old woman welcomes Michael Lively into her home.
"Wilbur the Pest Control man is here" She hollers out. A simple grunt is heard back in response. "Would you like something to drink sir?" the sweet old woman asks Michael Lively. "Why yes I would" Michael replies. They head to the kitchen dinning room area of the home where she pours Michael Lively a glass of lemonade. The old man lower his paper a bit glaring at Michael Lively appalled by his get up. Michael take the glass of lemonade and begins gulping it down in a hurry. Small drops of juice runs down the sides of his mouth hit his chin and then dive bomb to the floor. This infuriates Wilbur.
""You messy young punk, your dripping lemonade all over my floor, you have a hole in your mouth or something" the old man boats out loudly. "Wilbur leave the man alone, he is thirsty." Martha calls out in a gentle voice. Lively senses the old mans dislike for him, and begins to play those nerves like the strings on a fiddle. He slams the empty glass down next to Wilbur startling him.
"So what kind of pest problem to you folks have, Rats, Snakes, Millipedes?"
Wilbur and Martha then both look at each other in shock over the millipede question and then both respond in unison "Roaches"
""Ahhhh, the old roach problem eh! No fear because Heavenly Pest Control specializes in roach removal. You see the first thing you must do..."
Lively then moves close to the wall putting his ear to it as if listening for something
"""Is disrupt their living environment"
Lively then begins banging on the wall real hard scarring the old couple.
"""Once you do that these sick little bastards will send out a scout. You see some pest control guys want to fool this scout. They want to lure him into a false sense of security by baiting him with poison food to take back to the nest of these filthy shits. NOT ME, EHH-EHH (in a Stone Cold type of voice). What I like to do is get that fucking scout, torture his ass for invading the home. Then finish him off by tearing his little body in half..."
Just then a roach runs across the floor. Michael Lively looks at the old couple as if I told you so, and then cups the roach into his hands. He sits at the table next to Wilbur, and pinches the bug in between his fingers. With his other hand he begins flicking the roach in the face.
"""You see this is serious torture for a roach."
Lively then takes the roach and dunks him into Wilbur's coffee.
"""Now this fucker is hatting life, roaches can't swim, and they hate caffeine."
Wilbur looks sick as he stares at his coffee. Lively then stands and rips the bug in half. He holds the two piece into the air and scream out in a maniacal laugh as if he just created a death ray to destroy the earth. Martha moves in close to Wilbur not feeling real comfortable with Michael Lively.
"""Now once you have this fucker sentenced to death and have carried out the orders first hand, you must then bring down the vengeance of Heaven upon these rotten sons of bitches. You must show them first hand what they are in store for..."
Lively then plunges both fists into the dry wall breaking through and burring himself down to his elbows. Martha screams in shock as Lively has just ruined her wall.
"""Don't worry these bastards are seeing first hand what I did to their scout, and soon...ahhh..here they come."
Lively then quickly pulls his hands from inside the wall with a hand full of roaches crushing them and flinging them over his shoulder. Crumpled roaches parts and guts splatter all over the kitchen table in front of Martha and Wilbur. The woman faints from shock, as the old man begins to dry heave.
"""Some of these fuckers will get to scampering, while others will try to hide it out like hopping the worst is over. Little do they know the best for me is yet to come."
Lively then takes out a baseball bat and begin beating the shit out of the drywall, and shoving lamps and tables aside jamming holes everywhere. As roaches show their faces Michael Lively begins waffling them with his bat. Just then he takes out the golf club, smashes the TV set and roaches begin pouring out from the screen. His feet begin river dancing on top of the nasty bugs with his hands on his hips. Wilbur then stands from the table, his temper beyond overfilled makes his way over toward Michael Lively. His fists clenched, and arms shaking with fury. He is stopped dead in his tracks as Michael Lively calls out.
"""WAIT...the queen, we must ruin her if you wish to be free from these nasty pests."
Lively bends down softly, picks a large roach with a funny color and scoops it into his hands.
"""Here she is..."
Lively then throws it at Wilbur and the big latches on to his chin. The mans jumps up and down scared and disgusted. Lively charges sideways and smashes the bug with a deadly pest exterminating super kick. Wilbur catches the boot on the mush falls backward unconscious smashing through a coffee table. Lively quickly pulls out a receipt books and begins writing in it.
"""Scout removal, destruction of stowaways, and most of all queen annilation...you folks are looking at about two thousand dollars. I take cash, check, or money order...sorry no credit cards the fees these days are out of control."
Lively places the receipt on the mans chest as the scene fades out.
As we come back just seconds later we are backstage at Overdrive we see the villain Michael Lively standing there in a hockey mask, and a golf bag. The fans inside the arena boo his presence on the tron. As he absorbs the hatred the man then removes the mask and stares deep into the camera.
"""It seems the APW has a pest problem. Heavenly Pest Control has been called in here tonight to help rid this place. It seems an army of cockroaches has sent out a scout. He's been snooping around, trying to see what it would be like to call this place home for him and his large family of insects. Well, I'm paid damn good to make sure this place is rodent and pest free. So tonight I walk to that ring and smash this fucking roach first hand. Joe Martinez, you my friend unless you are too stupid to realize are that fucking pest."
Lively then sets the golf bag on the ground.
"""You see Joe, your are an annoyance. Every time we turn on the lights there you are, scampering around bringing the property values down, you filthy shit. Well I don't know about anyone else here but I can only take so much, I mean dealing with Level One, BDC, and now having to stomach the fact that you keep popping up. Well enough is enough, I rid the APW of it's overgrown human cockroach. I'm not sure what goes through your mind. You have a big ego, and truthfully I see nothing wrong with that. In some ways I can respect that, but where you go horribly wrong is accompanying that massive ego is a sack of shit talentless prick. You see Joe two plus six doesn't equal four. Your formula for success isn't adding up. First you run in here as if the world owes you something. Now this I can relate to, I did something similar, only when I came in and challenged a main eventer...I won. You came in like a ball of fire and fizzled out rather fast. Then once you realized that Level One was too much to dick for you to take in that young little throat, you moved onto to me. Well sunshine I may not have the length of out world champion, but I can touch the sides of tuna can real well. Point being Joe your fucked. Tonight it won't be an epic match, it won't be a tough challenge for me, simply just another night. Almost as if we are at a house show with some local jobber trying to get squashed. You haven't a chance against me Joe. Skillfully in the ring I am light years above you, you can not even compete on my level. Now toss in the Mic skills, and son I really feel bad for you. It's as if you just unlatched from your mamma's tit, and came waddling up to play. This isn't kindergarten Joe, and I am no Elmo. You tickle the JESUS and I will slap the shit out of you. These are all things you will surely learn. Why?, well because you have been begging for it. No single person has committed career suicide like you have. First calling out the Level One, I mean hell I was pulling for you, or at least for him to tear his ACL or something cause he's the biggest douche in the biz. Now you run around the back in your whittle stroller pulling the Binky from your lips screaming how you want the JESUS. Well you have just been penciled in for a one on one with JESUS, and I'm sure it's going to be memorable for ya. I don't pull punches, pay down, or take dives. I'm a hundred percent heterosexual superstar, when a pussy stands before me I royal fuck it up, leave it laying there trembling in pain. Well you walking twat, it seems I had better glove up and get ready to put in work because according to my clock, you the next puss in line...BITCH!!!"
Lively then looks to the side and leaves the fans with nothing but static as he super kicks the cameraman once again.
"Calm Down Wilbur, you know how you get with your blood pressure and all." Martha responds to her husband. "You know what happens when you do everything yourself, remember that bird feeder, and that cabinet for the shed?"
The old man hangs his head as his eyes show a disgusted look. "Yeah I remember, the bird feeder looked more like a toilet, and I nearly took the shed down trying to hang the cabinet. So what do you suggest then Martha, I can't take anymore of these God awful bugs running past me every morning, and every evening when I wake up to pee."
"I already have it handled, I called the Heavenly Pest Control, and they are on their way."
The old man grunts in disapproval as he goes back to reading his morning paper. Martha continues to cook breakfast at the stove when the door bell rings. Wilbur doesn't budge a bit knowing his wife of forty years will be answering the door so he can peacefully read the mornings news. Martha wipes her hands on her apron just and then reaches for the door knob. As she opens the door her eye gaze upon a shocking site. A man dressed in a pair of jeans and a white t0shirt with a hockey mask over his face almost resembling Casey Jones from the Ninja Turtles burst into her doorway. The man has a golf bag slung over his shoulder with an arsenal that would make Casey Jones eat his heart out. A voice mutters out from behind the mask, "Herrile Ess Untrol"
Puzzled Martha looks at the man in confusion. Suddenly the mask is lifted to reveal none other then Michael Lively. "Sorry ma'am Heavenly Pest Control, it's kind of hard to talk with my big whipping mask on." The old woman welcomes Michael Lively into her home.
"Wilbur the Pest Control man is here" She hollers out. A simple grunt is heard back in response. "Would you like something to drink sir?" the sweet old woman asks Michael Lively. "Why yes I would" Michael replies. They head to the kitchen dinning room area of the home where she pours Michael Lively a glass of lemonade. The old man lower his paper a bit glaring at Michael Lively appalled by his get up. Michael take the glass of lemonade and begins gulping it down in a hurry. Small drops of juice runs down the sides of his mouth hit his chin and then dive bomb to the floor. This infuriates Wilbur.
""You messy young punk, your dripping lemonade all over my floor, you have a hole in your mouth or something" the old man boats out loudly. "Wilbur leave the man alone, he is thirsty." Martha calls out in a gentle voice. Lively senses the old mans dislike for him, and begins to play those nerves like the strings on a fiddle. He slams the empty glass down next to Wilbur startling him.
"So what kind of pest problem to you folks have, Rats, Snakes, Millipedes?"
Wilbur and Martha then both look at each other in shock over the millipede question and then both respond in unison "Roaches"
""Ahhhh, the old roach problem eh! No fear because Heavenly Pest Control specializes in roach removal. You see the first thing you must do..."
Lively then moves close to the wall putting his ear to it as if listening for something
"""Is disrupt their living environment"
Lively then begins banging on the wall real hard scarring the old couple.
"""Once you do that these sick little bastards will send out a scout. You see some pest control guys want to fool this scout. They want to lure him into a false sense of security by baiting him with poison food to take back to the nest of these filthy shits. NOT ME, EHH-EHH (in a Stone Cold type of voice). What I like to do is get that fucking scout, torture his ass for invading the home. Then finish him off by tearing his little body in half..."
Just then a roach runs across the floor. Michael Lively looks at the old couple as if I told you so, and then cups the roach into his hands. He sits at the table next to Wilbur, and pinches the bug in between his fingers. With his other hand he begins flicking the roach in the face.
"""You see this is serious torture for a roach."
Lively then takes the roach and dunks him into Wilbur's coffee.
"""Now this fucker is hatting life, roaches can't swim, and they hate caffeine."
Wilbur looks sick as he stares at his coffee. Lively then stands and rips the bug in half. He holds the two piece into the air and scream out in a maniacal laugh as if he just created a death ray to destroy the earth. Martha moves in close to Wilbur not feeling real comfortable with Michael Lively.
"""Now once you have this fucker sentenced to death and have carried out the orders first hand, you must then bring down the vengeance of Heaven upon these rotten sons of bitches. You must show them first hand what they are in store for..."
Lively then plunges both fists into the dry wall breaking through and burring himself down to his elbows. Martha screams in shock as Lively has just ruined her wall.
"""Don't worry these bastards are seeing first hand what I did to their scout, and soon...ahhh..here they come."
Lively then quickly pulls his hands from inside the wall with a hand full of roaches crushing them and flinging them over his shoulder. Crumpled roaches parts and guts splatter all over the kitchen table in front of Martha and Wilbur. The woman faints from shock, as the old man begins to dry heave.
"""Some of these fuckers will get to scampering, while others will try to hide it out like hopping the worst is over. Little do they know the best for me is yet to come."
Lively then takes out a baseball bat and begin beating the shit out of the drywall, and shoving lamps and tables aside jamming holes everywhere. As roaches show their faces Michael Lively begins waffling them with his bat. Just then he takes out the golf club, smashes the TV set and roaches begin pouring out from the screen. His feet begin river dancing on top of the nasty bugs with his hands on his hips. Wilbur then stands from the table, his temper beyond overfilled makes his way over toward Michael Lively. His fists clenched, and arms shaking with fury. He is stopped dead in his tracks as Michael Lively calls out.
"""WAIT...the queen, we must ruin her if you wish to be free from these nasty pests."
Lively bends down softly, picks a large roach with a funny color and scoops it into his hands.
"""Here she is..."
Lively then throws it at Wilbur and the big latches on to his chin. The mans jumps up and down scared and disgusted. Lively charges sideways and smashes the bug with a deadly pest exterminating super kick. Wilbur catches the boot on the mush falls backward unconscious smashing through a coffee table. Lively quickly pulls out a receipt books and begins writing in it.
"""Scout removal, destruction of stowaways, and most of all queen annilation...you folks are looking at about two thousand dollars. I take cash, check, or money order...sorry no credit cards the fees these days are out of control."
Lively places the receipt on the mans chest as the scene fades out.
As we come back just seconds later we are backstage at Overdrive we see the villain Michael Lively standing there in a hockey mask, and a golf bag. The fans inside the arena boo his presence on the tron. As he absorbs the hatred the man then removes the mask and stares deep into the camera.
"""It seems the APW has a pest problem. Heavenly Pest Control has been called in here tonight to help rid this place. It seems an army of cockroaches has sent out a scout. He's been snooping around, trying to see what it would be like to call this place home for him and his large family of insects. Well, I'm paid damn good to make sure this place is rodent and pest free. So tonight I walk to that ring and smash this fucking roach first hand. Joe Martinez, you my friend unless you are too stupid to realize are that fucking pest."
Lively then sets the golf bag on the ground.
"""You see Joe, your are an annoyance. Every time we turn on the lights there you are, scampering around bringing the property values down, you filthy shit. Well I don't know about anyone else here but I can only take so much, I mean dealing with Level One, BDC, and now having to stomach the fact that you keep popping up. Well enough is enough, I rid the APW of it's overgrown human cockroach. I'm not sure what goes through your mind. You have a big ego, and truthfully I see nothing wrong with that. In some ways I can respect that, but where you go horribly wrong is accompanying that massive ego is a sack of shit talentless prick. You see Joe two plus six doesn't equal four. Your formula for success isn't adding up. First you run in here as if the world owes you something. Now this I can relate to, I did something similar, only when I came in and challenged a main eventer...I won. You came in like a ball of fire and fizzled out rather fast. Then once you realized that Level One was too much to dick for you to take in that young little throat, you moved onto to me. Well sunshine I may not have the length of out world champion, but I can touch the sides of tuna can real well. Point being Joe your fucked. Tonight it won't be an epic match, it won't be a tough challenge for me, simply just another night. Almost as if we are at a house show with some local jobber trying to get squashed. You haven't a chance against me Joe. Skillfully in the ring I am light years above you, you can not even compete on my level. Now toss in the Mic skills, and son I really feel bad for you. It's as if you just unlatched from your mamma's tit, and came waddling up to play. This isn't kindergarten Joe, and I am no Elmo. You tickle the JESUS and I will slap the shit out of you. These are all things you will surely learn. Why?, well because you have been begging for it. No single person has committed career suicide like you have. First calling out the Level One, I mean hell I was pulling for you, or at least for him to tear his ACL or something cause he's the biggest douche in the biz. Now you run around the back in your whittle stroller pulling the Binky from your lips screaming how you want the JESUS. Well you have just been penciled in for a one on one with JESUS, and I'm sure it's going to be memorable for ya. I don't pull punches, pay down, or take dives. I'm a hundred percent heterosexual superstar, when a pussy stands before me I royal fuck it up, leave it laying there trembling in pain. Well you walking twat, it seems I had better glove up and get ready to put in work because according to my clock, you the next puss in line...BITCH!!!"
Lively then looks to the side and leaves the fans with nothing but static as he super kicks the cameraman once again.
