Shrimp Cup O Noodles with a little Redemption

[Jimmy The Lock]

NOTE: WE CONTACTED MORGAN FREEMAN ABOUT NARRATING THIS PROMO, TO WHICH HE PROMPTLY RESPONDED "NIGGA PLEASE". THE FOLLOWING WILL NOW BE NARRATED BY AL ROKER.

Monday, March 14th, 2011
11:30 A.M.

There is trouble in paradise at C.R.A.P Enterprises. This past Overdrive, Jimmy and the Riboflavin brothers attempted to infiltrate the show in hopes of gaining inside knowledge on the identity of the vaunted "4th Man" on Team APW. Not only did this plan backfire, the ulterior motives of one Biff Riboflavin were uncovered. He attempted to sell out his boss and mentor in hopes of earning the aforementioned 4th slot. After his offer was rejected by President Jeff (who turned out to be the 4th Member after all) and his plans were discovered, he was subsequently fired from his position by a furious James. However, The IWC Champion was more heartbroken than angry, and since the show has become despondent over the betrayal of a young man whom he'd come to think of as a son. He stopped taking care of himself and began drinking heavily. In just a few short days, went from this



to this



On this particular day, we find the boss sulking in his office. Wearing a robe and slippers, and sipping straight out of a bottle of Jim Beam. An economy sized bag of jalapeno cheddar cheetos sits atop his desk next to a gigantic jar of fluff and mountain of assorted beer and soda cans. He has grown a massive beard, which is unkempt, scraggly, and crusted with tomato sauce from Ultimate Pizza Hot Pockets. "Everytime You Go Away" by Hall and Oates plays in the background as the champion weeps quietly at his desk.

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Tuesday, March 14th,2011
3:30 P.M.

The elevator dings, and the doors part. A sharply dressed man whom we only have a back view of steps off, causing what was a quiet hallway with employees aimlessly drifting about to become a chaotic clusterfuck, as they suddenly begin scrambling to clear a path for this man, who is clearly on a mission. A passing Daniel Tan is mesmerized as well. With his eyes widened, he approaches the man.

Daniel: Woowwwwww. Can you autograph my ph--

FAP!

The man piefaces Daniel, causing him to fall inside mail cart he was pushing. The man then kicks it down the hallway, where the runaway Dan-wagon bowls over two passing employees. The man then approaches the receptionists's desk where Amina Wallace is working.

Man: I'm here to see Jimmy Chambers.

Amina: Sorry sir, but Mr. Chambers just ate a 24 ounce steak and 2 pounds of corned beef hash. He's been in a food coma since 2:00.

Meanwhile in Jimmy's office......

We find the champion reclined all the way back in his swivel chair. He sports the same attire as the day before. The only difference today is, that instead of having a beard crusted with pizza sauce, his beard is now crusted with pizza sauce, chunks of corned beef hash, cigar ashes, dried drool and tears, and what appears to be a Lee press-on nail. Just then, his office intercom buzzes, and we hear a flustered and panicked Amina Wallace on the other end.

Amina: Jimmy! Call security, there's a strange man headed your way, i tried to stop him,but--[/color]

Before James can react, his door is forcefully punched open, and the identity of the mystery man is revealed....

Shit just got real.

One the top five pound for pound baddest men on the planet. A man so dangerous that swine flu crosses the street when it sees him coming. AIDS locks its doors when he walks past its car. He's probably fucking your girlfriend right now. He most likely fucked you sister thirty minutes ago. I'm almost certain that he railed your mother this morning. The one, the only, Emmy Award winning Craig T. mothafuckin' Nelson! He shoots the champion a look of disgust, and then kicks his desk over, causing a gigantic mess as everything on top of it goes crashing to the floor at James's feet. He jumps up in a rage, and gets nose to nose with Craig.

Craig: What are you gonna do!? You wanna make a go of this,Britney!? Take one, i dare ya! Two hits, me hitting you, and your dick hitting the dirt.

James steps back and lowers his fist.

Craig: That's what i thought. I've been watching you Jimmy. You're a great athlete, and an even better businessman. But you've got the mental strength of....Pence Weatherlight. I will not stand idly by while you ruin yourself.

James: Look at me! I'm already ruined, my career is in shambles. You know what, I'm just going to call Jeff, pull out of Rasslemania, and vacate my title---

WHAP!

Craig silences James with a lightening quick backhanded pimp smack.

Craig: See what i did there?

James: Yeah, You just slapped the shit out of me!!!!

Craig: Wrong! I made very stupid, selfish, and impulsive decision, just like you're trying to do. You're not quitting, I can't let that happen. My buddies and i are here to whip you back into fighting shape. And your employees too, because the measure of a man is determined by the company he keeps.

James: Buddies? Coach Dauber is here!?

Meanwhile, in the break room....

Andy Patel reclines on the couch near the vending machines, halfway conscious and under the influence of an unknown narcotic. Noah Riboflavin sits at a round wood table, pawing at his cup o noodles with a plastic fork and reading an issue of Creative Loafing while Ashley Tumbleston fumbles with the soda machine. Suddenly, the break room door swings open, and a familiar voice chimes......

"Hey kids! How you doin'?"

Everyone's eyes cut to the front of the room, discovering that not only does the voice belong to award winning actor and Cultural icon Samuel L. Jackson, but standing next to him is the notoriously unstable Gary Busey. Andy's eyes bulge and he quickly sits up.

Andy: This is some good shit! I am trippin' balls right now!

Sam pats Andy's shoulder to put him at ease.

SLJ: Hey, keep chillin'. You know who we are? We're associates of your boss, Jimmy. You remember your boss, don't you?

Ashley: Of course we remember our boss, douche---

SLJ: I don't remember askin' you a goddamn thing!

Noah: Actually, you didn't direct that question to anyone in particular, so it would be quite easy for Ashley over there to think that was a---[/color]

BOOM!

Gary Busey plunges a metal wastebasket into the midsection of Andy Patel, who howls in pain and turns over on his stomach while farting uncontrollably.

Busey: Oh, I'm sorry. Did i break your concentration?

Noah: No. Why would that break my concentration?

Ashley(whispering to Noah): Why is Gary Busey wearing a suit?

Noah(whispering back): Fuck the suit. Why does he have a Jheri Curl?

Gary suddenly becomes unhinged`and lunges at Noah, grabbing his shirt collar and pulling him from his chair.

Busey: WHAT DOES JIMMY CHAMBERS LOOK LIKE!? DOES HE LOOK LIKE A BITCH!?

Sam quickly intervenes and pulls Gary off of Noah, and after everyone calms down, continues.

SLJ: Looks like me and Gary caught y'all at lunch. Sorry about that. Whatcha havin'?

Noah: Cup O Noodles.

SLJ: Cup O Noodles! The cornerstone of any nutritious lunch. What flavor, Chicken or Beef?

Noah: Shrimp, i got a 24 pack from CostCo.

SLJ: CostCo!

Noah: Why do you keep exclaiming?

SLJ: I can't help it, I do love a good Cup O Noodles. I can't eat them, since I'm an award winning actor who has starred in countless critically acclaimed films, and I'd never reduce myself to such low standards. But it's been a while since i had one. You mind if i have some of yours?

Noah: Go right ahead.

Samuel grabs Noah's Cup O Noodles, staring a hole in him the whole time. He goes to take a sip....

AHHH!

Sam drops the cup, causing Noah's soup to spill on the floor.

SLJ: That shit was pipin' hot, motherfucker! I just scalded my tongue!

WHAM!

The door of the breakroom's bathroom bursts open, and Kenny Riboflavin jumps out wielding a large revolver and waving it wildly.

Kenny: DIE YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!!!!!

Everyone in the room ducks while pleading for their lives, and Noah faints. Kenny lowers the gun and begins laughing hysterically.

Kenny: Hahahahah, i got you guys, it's empty...it's not even loaded!

Unfortunately, nobody shares in Kenny's joy.

Kenny: Get it? Because Samuel L. Jackson's here...and Pulp Fiction....no? Ok.

Over the course of the next few days, Craig T. Nelson, Gary Busey and Samuel L. Jackson would go on to whip James and his employees into shape by forcing them to undergo grueling physical endurance exercises such as cleaning Craig's house top to bottom, washing all of Sam's cars and doing his landscaping, and tending to Gary Busey's collection of shrunken heads. Unfortunately this isn't a Pence Weatherlight promo and we don't have the time to go into unnecessary detail about nondescript bullshit. All you should know is that Jimmy's prepared to fuck shit up at the biggest event of the year.

Saturday, March 26th 2011
Somewhere in Berkeley

This is truly exciting. The biggest event of the year and yours truly is the Captain of Team IWC in the featured War Games match. It will be me and Team IWC squaring off against a nobody, a bitchy little attention whore, a guy who repeats the same shit, and a washed up clown, and that's just Pence Weatherlight. There's also Tommy Knoxville, Captain Klappton and President Jeff, or rather, Hurricane Jeff.

I never saw Jeff being the fourth member. Now that it happened, it makes perfect sense. He is Mr. Rasslemania after all, but more importantly, he's also the man responsible for helping to resurrect my career. Sure, back in the EWC Days he went upside my head with a dustbuster and pinned me for the 24 Hour Combat Championship, but he gave me a title shot two weeks later, so no harm no foul, right? I like Jeff, that's why when EWC went under, i came here. But I'm not here to talk about our friendship or how you've helped me, I'm here to discuss our upcoming encounter at Rasslemania. This is a wrestling promo after all, and even though you're my boss and good friend, i have to hurl at least one insult your way. You may hate me after i say this, but....

You're short. You're really, really short. So short that your the last one to know when it rains. Yeah, yeah, i know, I'm fired.

In all seriousness Jeff, i look forward to the challenge. You've been a great help to me over the years and it's only fitting that we give the people what they paid for. Good luck, but i will not hold back.

AND THAT BRINGS ME TO CAPTAIN KLAPPTON! HE IS THE BIGGEST, TOUGHEST, MEANEST MOTHERFUCKER IN THIS MATCH BUT I DON'T CARE BECAUSE WAR GAMES WILL BE TORTURE GAMES! IT IS WHAT IT IS! WHATEVER HAPPENS HAPPENS! WHAT A TANGLED WEB WE WEAVE WHEN WE FIRST PRACTICE TO DECEIVE! STOP, DROP, SHUT EM DOWN OPEN UP SHOP! OH, NO, THAT'S HOW RUFF RYDERS ROLL!

......Sorry, i got lost in Klapptanese. Honestly, Captain Klappton is a monster. What can you say? The guy is the ultimate immovable object. The Captain is one of my favorite prospects coming up in APW, so it sucks that i have slow his momentum by breaking my foot off in his ass. It's nothing personal Cap, because aside from Jeff, you're one of the two people on either team that i can actually stomach.

I don't care for the Dangertainment losers on my side, but fuck it, I'm stuck with them. Kash, don't make threats you know you won't act on. I'm sure you saw at Blood, Sweat, an Broken Teeth when i made Chris Cyrus my bitch for the second time, and you don't want that problem. Save that crotch grabbing, backwards hat wearing, pants sagging off the ass tough guy bullshit bravado for someone else. You respect means dick to me. I spit on your honor and i piss on your Dangertainment Banner. Stay the fuck in your place, keep your mouth shut and do your job.

And Nate Bishop....seeing as your big "Invasion" lasted all of three weeks, i didn't give enough of a fuck to storm the ring and beat up a bunch of Level One's weak ass cronies who travel in packs because they don't have the sack to stand on their own. While we're on the subject, what have YOU done since the "invasion" besides lose to Rico Casteel? I'll wait....

....

....

Not a goddamned thing.

Enjoy this while it lasts, because teaming with me is the closest either of you shit eating twats will get to the IWC Insane Championship. Face.

And Tommy Knoxville? In case you thought i forgot about you....

.....I did.

Seriously, i don't know who or what the fuck a Tommy Knoxville is, but if anybody's asking "Who do you have to blow to get in the War Games match at Rasslemania?" I'm sure our girl Tommy knows the answer. The only reason you are in this match is because Jeff didn't want Pence Weatherlight to be the only bottomfeeding hacky dipshit on Team APW. I don't care how much pot you smoke, or tattoos you have. You're not man enough to fuck with me. Dismissed!

Quick everyone!

What's the difference between Spencer Pratt and Pence Weatherlight?

While they are both delusional, self absorbed, ego-maniacal, fuckfaceous sacks of Donkey shit suffering from stage four mental fucktardation, at least someone will care when Spencer Pratt dies.

If you look up "Whiny Cunt" in the dictionary, you'll see an action shot of Pence standing in an APW Ring during one of his many segments where he tries to slither his way back into the World Heavyweight Title picture. Fact.

The funny thing about that is, that right after he makes these heartfelt, tear jerking speeches, he goes on to get his ass kicked in his match right after, the only exception being when he "won"`the title of "Captain" over Tommy Knoxville and Captain Klappton, which is pretty fucking redundant considering that the Captain of this company Hurricane Jeff was the 4th member the whole time. Poor Pence, always a sideline hoe, never a bottom bitch.

Other than that "Win", he hasn't had a credible singles victory since he beat a fading BDC at the beginning of the year, so answer me now, what in the fuck makes you think that you deserve a title shot over the likes of Ryan Ruckus, Terry Marvin, or CJ Gates? Bitch please, you're lucky if you even get to sniff the Xtreme title at this point. You'll never be in the Main Event again because you lack the consistency required to contend for a major title. You're hot and cold, it's the story of your life. When you were hot, you had beat Level One and claimed the World Heavyweight Championship twice. But now that you're colder than your sister's tit, you can barely squeak a win out of two retards fighting over peanut to gain Captain status in War Games.

Oh tell us Wise Penceworth, what should a proper wrestling promo look and sound like? Clearly you have it down to a science.

Perhaps some riveting girl talk with Madok with the where the word "fuck" is used three times per sentence?

Some half-assed trash talk with generic insults?

A little homo-centric self pondering while sitting on a bench?

Bitch, don't you ever crook your mouth to insult the originality of my promos, especially when your entire schtick is based on being a "hitman turned wrestler" who constantly whines about being overlooked when you have done absolutely NOTHING to earn the opportunities you beg for. It doesn't matter how many times i berate Biff, make fun of myself, or fist fuck your mother's gritty bunghole in my promos, because they still kick the shit out of your faggot ass melodramatic soap operas 100 times out of 100, 100 times over, any day of any fucking week in history.

You ought to control your hoes, Pence. Your homegirl Madok has gotten quite mouthy lately! She's been talking out of turn alot. I think it's cute, and if i were interested in taking a step back in my career, i might take the opportunity to choke her the fuck out and take that strap off of her. She isn't doing shit with it anyway. But worry not, because at War Games, I'll be more than happy to show you what a strong Pimp Hand looks and feels like.

Take your dick beaters off of Level One's junk, quit sniffing at Sally's cooter and listen very closely. You...are...fucking...weak. You do a good job of convincing everyone of your undying "belief" in yourself. No matter how many times in a row you lose, You are back the next week inexplicably cutting some kind of promo proclaiming your greatness.

"So what if C.J. Gates went medieval on my ass!? Who cares that i got skullfucked by Brandon Young? I'm Mr. Main Event! Sally Talfourd, I'm coming for you at (insert PPV where i talk shit the whole week leading up to it and then make excuses when i under perform), watch your ass!"

And if you think your luck is going to get any better at War Games, well, i guess you'd just be your normal arrogant and delusional self, but the fact is, they won't.

Since your fond of nicknames Pence, I'm sure that you will be overjoyed at this one.

"Mr. Show Opener."

Which is appropriate enough seeing as that's all he'll be good for after getting stomped the fuck out by Team IWC.

Now, was that original enough for you, fuckwad?

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