Post by Jake Titan on Apr 8, 2013 0:00:48 GMT -4
As always Jake Titan is trying to work off a massively owed debt to his tag team partner’s father. This week we find him dressed as Tony the Tiger, obviously not wanting to do this but despite recovering from a victory last week Jake is still in a foul mood. It wasn’t the kids that recognized him and praised him because it’s a breakfast cereal they enjoy but rather the remarks he was getting from other guys. Men who knew who was underneath the suit trying to make a quick buck to pay off a massively owed debt.
Jake had to play nice; he couldn’t afford to get canned from this job. Every little bit helped pay his way back to even. However much he waved around at the kids and pat them on the head had to think: ‘How much do I owe?’
A stupid gig for little pay but it was better than nothing. But what about the rest of the week, what else was Jake going to do? More of the exact same, all courtesy of Leon Roberts and how could Jake ever be thankful? Easy, he ultimately wasn’t grateful in the very least. Normally he’d just leave but Jake also knew that Leon and Randy both knew where he hung out. There was no chance Jake would risk them showing up when he didn’t want them to and ruin his good time.
Monday: He was Tony the Tiger of Frost Flakes. Nothing fancy, just a meet and greet then promote the cereal. Yes, several kids threw up on him and a outrageously gay man made a few passes at him. For the sake of money, Jake kept his cool.
Tuesday: Jake Titan was now Toucan Sam. Oh the gay jokes that would come his way. ‘Everything happens for a reason right? Why is this happening to me?’ this would be Jake Titan’s thought for the entire day. More kids running around, screaming and chanting “Toucan Sam”, while Jake had no problem with children normally; these kids were driving him up the wall.
Wednesday: We find Jake dressed as Count Chocula.
“Ain’t this a damn embarrassment, I mean the fuck?” A non-smooth looing, black Count Chocula stepped out of a locker room. Today Jake Titan was booked to be dressed as Count Chocula and give a speech about proper breakfast nutrition at school in Vaughn, Ontario, Canada.
A short balding man whom was dressed in a suit, one can easily assume he must be the principle, walked up to Jake. “Mister Titan, I’m Principal Edward Anderson. On behalf of Stephen Lewis Secondary School, I wanted to thank you for coming on such short notice.”
“It’s a’ight, mayne. Let’s just get this done. I feel like a choad wearing this stupid outfit.” It was painfully obviously Jake didn’t want to be dressed as Count Chocula and he didn’t want to talk to kids about the importance of breakfast.
The two men walk to the school’s auditorium. Using a small hand mirror, Jake fixed his wig and stepped out. A bright light made it almost impossible for Jake to see anyone in front of him. He cleared his throat just before he walked up to a podium that had a microphone ready. Just as he was about to speak, someone jumped up in the front row.
“YOU SUCK!” Then the boy threw a lunch bag at him.
Suddenly the entire auditorium began to throw anything at Count Chocula, aka Jake Titan. As humiliating as it was, Jake couldn’t do much but just protect his face. The sheer trash quickly turned into eggs and tomatoes. After a few intense minutes of getting beaten by eggs and tomatoes, he looked to see Liberty Roberts standing in the front row. One finger pulling down on her right eye lid, sticking her tongue at him, she was taunting Jake and wasn’t about to stand there and take it.
One of Count Chocula’s fingers pointed towards her. “Yo’ going down!”
Suddenly a ham hit Jake in the side of his head. Unable to resist the momentum, Jake fell off the stage and into a small area where a pianist would play. The bench they would sit on was destroyed by Jake’s weight. His hand rose up slowly and weakly.
“A’ight… who threw da ham?”
“Me mother fucker!” Leon’s voice taunted.
Pained and humiliated, Jake sat up and looked at Leon. “You went to all dat work ta do dis? Serious dawg?”
“Patience is a virtue, one that I’ve been mastering thanks to your negligent ass.” Leon picked the ham up.
“Mayne, I understand eggs and tomatoes, but ham? Why are you throwing hams at me now?” Jake picked up his wig and was led back stage with the Principal and Demonica addressing the kids, thanking them for their time.
“Da fuck man. Dat seriously hurt, I ain’t gunna throw no hams at yo’ punk white ass so why did yo’ punk ass throw hams at me?” How does one react to having hams thrown at them?
Happily, Leon laughed at Jake’s misfortune. Then he patted on his back. “It was multiple hams, it was ONE ham. I needed to stay focused and not dress up like breakfast cereal characters.”
“Man! Dat was your ass having me dress up like this? What kinda black man would willingly dress like Toucan Sam, Tony the Tiger or Count Chocula, HUH?!” There was much anger and passion behind Jake’s words.
His arrogance was what made Leon “The Virus” Roberts charming and even with Jake Titan he had to admit that arrogant charm was a devilish trait that could be a good thing. “Well I crunched the numbers; you still owe my old man eight hundred thousand dollars”
“Well that ain’t bad-“
“You realize I did that as American currency right?” Leon interrupted
Then Jake stopped and thought to himself. Yet he couldn’t figure it out. “How much is dat in Canadian, dog?”
“Eight hundred and thirteen thousand, five hundred and twenty dollars, I hope you have stocks and bonds.”
After not hearing Jake follow him, Leon turned around and realized that Jake was frozen in place. The man was in complete shock over how much money he owed Randy Roberts. “I OWE ANOTHER FOURTEEN THOUSAND DOLLAR?!”
Taking his partners feelings into consideration, Leon pushed Jake to his motorcycle. “Yeah, and you better be ready for Meltdown, asshole.”
“Oh you mean how we gotta face da former North American Champion, Warren Peace? Man he ain’t shit! If he was so damn good, wouldn’t he have held the North American Championship for at least a month? No, he wasn’t good enough to hold the title. He can ruin and end as many careers as he wants like he did his old man’s and his employees but he ain’t ruining me and he ain’t ruining APW.
“I’ll see that little chicken shit fucker ain’t going to beat me. Warren Peace isn’t going be winning this match because we’re the best fucking things to happen to APW since Hurricane Jeff open its doors. Then we got this so called “nightmare” named Niobe? That white bitch ain’t no Niobe! How can dat ho have a proud black name and dat bitch is whiter than yo’ punk ass. I’ve seen her matches and I can’t even get excited thinking about her. But I’ll tell you this. I’m going to make you proud. I’m gunna make my mama proud and we’re going to win dis match. A’ight?
"Warren Peace, you've flamed out before you even lit up. Niobe Martin, you ain't no nightmare. I'm going fuck up in the ring, and then I'm going to take you back to my hotel room and I'm going to fuck your tight, white ass and let you know what it's like to get fucked by a real winner. Hell I'll even let you stay so you can know what it's like to sleep with a winner. So Imma cut this short and say dis. We stealin' da show and we stealin' you Niboe. Peace bitches!"
Jake then hit the camera and it sudden cuts out.
Jake had to play nice; he couldn’t afford to get canned from this job. Every little bit helped pay his way back to even. However much he waved around at the kids and pat them on the head had to think: ‘How much do I owe?’
A stupid gig for little pay but it was better than nothing. But what about the rest of the week, what else was Jake going to do? More of the exact same, all courtesy of Leon Roberts and how could Jake ever be thankful? Easy, he ultimately wasn’t grateful in the very least. Normally he’d just leave but Jake also knew that Leon and Randy both knew where he hung out. There was no chance Jake would risk them showing up when he didn’t want them to and ruin his good time.
Monday: He was Tony the Tiger of Frost Flakes. Nothing fancy, just a meet and greet then promote the cereal. Yes, several kids threw up on him and a outrageously gay man made a few passes at him. For the sake of money, Jake kept his cool.
Tuesday: Jake Titan was now Toucan Sam. Oh the gay jokes that would come his way. ‘Everything happens for a reason right? Why is this happening to me?’ this would be Jake Titan’s thought for the entire day. More kids running around, screaming and chanting “Toucan Sam”, while Jake had no problem with children normally; these kids were driving him up the wall.
Wednesday: We find Jake dressed as Count Chocula.
“Ain’t this a damn embarrassment, I mean the fuck?” A non-smooth looing, black Count Chocula stepped out of a locker room. Today Jake Titan was booked to be dressed as Count Chocula and give a speech about proper breakfast nutrition at school in Vaughn, Ontario, Canada.
A short balding man whom was dressed in a suit, one can easily assume he must be the principle, walked up to Jake. “Mister Titan, I’m Principal Edward Anderson. On behalf of Stephen Lewis Secondary School, I wanted to thank you for coming on such short notice.”
“It’s a’ight, mayne. Let’s just get this done. I feel like a choad wearing this stupid outfit.” It was painfully obviously Jake didn’t want to be dressed as Count Chocula and he didn’t want to talk to kids about the importance of breakfast.
The two men walk to the school’s auditorium. Using a small hand mirror, Jake fixed his wig and stepped out. A bright light made it almost impossible for Jake to see anyone in front of him. He cleared his throat just before he walked up to a podium that had a microphone ready. Just as he was about to speak, someone jumped up in the front row.
“YOU SUCK!” Then the boy threw a lunch bag at him.
Suddenly the entire auditorium began to throw anything at Count Chocula, aka Jake Titan. As humiliating as it was, Jake couldn’t do much but just protect his face. The sheer trash quickly turned into eggs and tomatoes. After a few intense minutes of getting beaten by eggs and tomatoes, he looked to see Liberty Roberts standing in the front row. One finger pulling down on her right eye lid, sticking her tongue at him, she was taunting Jake and wasn’t about to stand there and take it.
One of Count Chocula’s fingers pointed towards her. “Yo’ going down!”
Suddenly a ham hit Jake in the side of his head. Unable to resist the momentum, Jake fell off the stage and into a small area where a pianist would play. The bench they would sit on was destroyed by Jake’s weight. His hand rose up slowly and weakly.
“A’ight… who threw da ham?”
“Me mother fucker!” Leon’s voice taunted.
Pained and humiliated, Jake sat up and looked at Leon. “You went to all dat work ta do dis? Serious dawg?”
“Patience is a virtue, one that I’ve been mastering thanks to your negligent ass.” Leon picked the ham up.
“Mayne, I understand eggs and tomatoes, but ham? Why are you throwing hams at me now?” Jake picked up his wig and was led back stage with the Principal and Demonica addressing the kids, thanking them for their time.
“Da fuck man. Dat seriously hurt, I ain’t gunna throw no hams at yo’ punk white ass so why did yo’ punk ass throw hams at me?” How does one react to having hams thrown at them?
Happily, Leon laughed at Jake’s misfortune. Then he patted on his back. “It was multiple hams, it was ONE ham. I needed to stay focused and not dress up like breakfast cereal characters.”
“Man! Dat was your ass having me dress up like this? What kinda black man would willingly dress like Toucan Sam, Tony the Tiger or Count Chocula, HUH?!” There was much anger and passion behind Jake’s words.
His arrogance was what made Leon “The Virus” Roberts charming and even with Jake Titan he had to admit that arrogant charm was a devilish trait that could be a good thing. “Well I crunched the numbers; you still owe my old man eight hundred thousand dollars”
“Well that ain’t bad-“
“You realize I did that as American currency right?” Leon interrupted
Then Jake stopped and thought to himself. Yet he couldn’t figure it out. “How much is dat in Canadian, dog?”
“Eight hundred and thirteen thousand, five hundred and twenty dollars, I hope you have stocks and bonds.”
After not hearing Jake follow him, Leon turned around and realized that Jake was frozen in place. The man was in complete shock over how much money he owed Randy Roberts. “I OWE ANOTHER FOURTEEN THOUSAND DOLLAR?!”
Taking his partners feelings into consideration, Leon pushed Jake to his motorcycle. “Yeah, and you better be ready for Meltdown, asshole.”
“Oh you mean how we gotta face da former North American Champion, Warren Peace? Man he ain’t shit! If he was so damn good, wouldn’t he have held the North American Championship for at least a month? No, he wasn’t good enough to hold the title. He can ruin and end as many careers as he wants like he did his old man’s and his employees but he ain’t ruining me and he ain’t ruining APW.
“I’ll see that little chicken shit fucker ain’t going to beat me. Warren Peace isn’t going be winning this match because we’re the best fucking things to happen to APW since Hurricane Jeff open its doors. Then we got this so called “nightmare” named Niobe? That white bitch ain’t no Niobe! How can dat ho have a proud black name and dat bitch is whiter than yo’ punk ass. I’ve seen her matches and I can’t even get excited thinking about her. But I’ll tell you this. I’m going to make you proud. I’m gunna make my mama proud and we’re going to win dis match. A’ight?
"Warren Peace, you've flamed out before you even lit up. Niobe Martin, you ain't no nightmare. I'm going fuck up in the ring, and then I'm going to take you back to my hotel room and I'm going to fuck your tight, white ass and let you know what it's like to get fucked by a real winner. Hell I'll even let you stay so you can know what it's like to sleep with a winner. So Imma cut this short and say dis. We stealin' da show and we stealin' you Niboe. Peace bitches!"
Jake then hit the camera and it sudden cuts out.
