Post by Johnny "True Brit" Brown on Aug 11, 2011 15:51:32 GMT -4
Lost In translation
I have defeated this earthworm with my words. Imagine what I would have done with my fire breathing fists. Man Charlie Sheen is one coked out dude.
Here i am sat in a shitty motel in... Well i don’t care where. Amazingly the place has Wi-Fi. My mysterious sponsor says i need to check my feedback, doesn’t he realise fans don’t like me, fans aren’t supposed to like me. I’m no cool heel looking to sell merch or bring back a long obsolete band to make me relevant. I’m Johnny Brown, ‘Cool Britannia’ a man with true British grit, that was what got us through the Blitz; as me’ great Nan would say, god rest her.
I think this shithole was last decorated during the war, the wallpaper is brown and hanging off the wall. You’d thought the mould would hold it up. It kinda reminds me of a place in West Brom me and me’ folks squatted in once. One big difference is that Brom is a haven of racial enlightenment when compared to this place. If the local rag said a tanning business was run outta town for making folks ‘too dark’ I’d believe it.
I’m ok; with my shaved head the keep calling me brother, either they’ve watched too many wrestling promos or their hat collections includes hoods.
With fingers a blur; that why the birds love me, I flick past the typical IWC feedback, quoting the current meme, or even old ones. In response to “SBSat”, No my shirt isn’t too tight and onto the stuff that matters. Note: it matters to my sponsor not me.
Apparently you can’t understand my accent, you complain about my mixed syntax an’ juxtaposition, which let’s face it is quite intelligent considering the usual drivel APW fans allow to fall out of their slack jaws. Before I continue narrating this piece allow me to reiterate if i may (was that clear enough “APWrools69”) I DON’T F’N CARE!
Yeah it’s my job to talk you into the building, to make you want to come and see me get my arse kicked but let’s face it with the two guys they’ve put me up against... that aint gonna happen. Teddy an’ Tommy as good as you seem to think they are NOT as good as me.
As you can see in this shot, I’m scanning info sent to me by my sponsor’s team. Info about Demon’s time in the Outkasts and the kinda shit they pulled, not too shabby. He looks different, might not even be him, perhaps he deserves the favoured status given ta ‘im by the masses. I’m still not sold, jeh-sus his name is Ted... Ted Soul... the big bad Demon is called Theodore Soul? I’m not sure which part of that i find the most amusing do ya think ‘is dad is David Soul of Starsky and Hutch fame? The blonde dude that sang Siilllver Layyyyydeeee OK singing aint my strong point, but look at the footage, I’m pissing me’self, and for those that don’t understand the Queens English, that means I’m laughing... a lot, not that me’ pants are now filled with a warm yellow fluid.
So, Theodore you were born to that name rather than choosing it in a misguided belief that it would strike fear into the hearts of your opponents? You need to slap your parents the next time the doctors let you visit them in the funny farm, after enduring your riposte to my initial outing I cannot wait to shatter the illusion that you’re something special, the hype that you’ve surrounded yourself with wont help you when we step into the ring. Of course your previous alliance with the third man in our dance might.
You, Kash and Tommy were the ‘Influential Minds’, ummm yeah great name. Judging by your combined history you’re just as likely to kick each others’ arses as you are mine so we might be good. Tommy’s drug abuse seems to have driven a wedge in your alliance before; this time I have a pair of size 12’s that’ll drive a wedge between yer ears.
You two can skip to the ring ‘olding ‘ands I don’t care; if you brawl down the aisle like it was a Big Fat Gypsy Wedding I don’t care! That’s becoming my catchphrase, a t-shirt opportunity looms mee thinks. If sells anything can.
Whatever ‘appens ‘appens, me’ sweating the whys and wherefores of the given situation aint gonna change $hit. If ya take a look at ‘me mug you can see that I can take a kicking, my nose has been spread more times than Jordan an’ that Welsh bird from Big Bro’ combined.
I tell ya what Tommy, you like a bet don’t ya? It’s no secret! Why don’t we place a wager? Do ya ‘ave Williams ‘ills over ‘ere? Me’ granddad and me used to spend hours in WH when we was on our hols, most kids played on Yarmouth beach, me I used to watch the desperate old men hoping for some old nag avoids the glue factory long enough to romp ‘ome. Most were too drunk to realise what was going on ‘alf the time, I’d rob their tickets or wallets when they got too rat-arsed or when their fat fishwife of a missus comes and drags them out ; while their ‘alf dozen dirty faced screaming nippers run riot. Ah ‘orse racing... the sport of kings.
Anyhow Tom Tom as i was saying before I took a wander down memory lane, let me offer you an extra incentive let’s see who can punch Demon the most, let’s see who can get more kicks in, £10 per blow, winner takes the pot. If either hits there finish its a grand straight, what do ya say?
If ya feeling rich we could up the ante... come on Tom i know you can feel it in ya blood, the desire to gamble and win, if you’ve lost yer nutsack in a card game already that’s cool, at Asylum i just have a bigger ‘ill to climb.
Mr. Invisible Knox, so far you are a non-factor, Demon... well that’s another story. You have finally found a voice, one that doesn’t seem to have a real opinion other than disliking me. You see Mr Soul i do rant ‘ere an’ there.
Yer see TED, I have thoughts of my own, thoughts that are not limited to DEMON SMASH! Are you just a one-dimensional 'rassler from the 80’s talking about winning the big gold belt and talking in clichés, “your darkest times are about to begin now” WTF man? *click* consider me the shining light, think of me as a Red, White ‘n’ Blue Lantern using my light to rid APW of the dross you bring...
So what if you repeat my promo verbatim, BTW cockamamie? Seriously what are you thinking using words like that? Again it just shows how out of touch you are, I take the viewers behind the curtain; whether they like it or not, I drag them kicking and screaming into my world, and no I couldn’t give a damn what they think, I’m an unashamed self-publicist looking glass. APW is the avenue for me to tell the world about me. It’s not a sob story it’s my story. I don’t ask for nor expect quarter or sympathy and i sure as hell don’t give either...
Knox; you piece of 237lb window dressing come to fight or stay the hell out of our way.
I’m Johnny Brown and your both gonna get yer f’n ‘eads KICKED IN!
Red and white Formica is everywhere. Typical of a mom n’ pop dinner anywhere in the U.S. Johnny Brown is drawn to these places like a moth to a flame. Places like this were his dining room growing up. He once set a record amongst his kin for most sugar and ketchup packets hidden on his person, the exact figure is lost amongst less pleasant childhood memories but at the time damn he was proud of it.
It kept the family in food for a few days, well that and some day old bread from Londis, a bit of muck on your face and a few tears courtesy of a sibling dead arm and they would give it to you for nothing. Or at least that’s the story Johnny recounts. Tales of sugar and sauce sandwiches coupled with comedowns oh they are fun.
Faced with a full English breakfast, lean carbs be damned, Johnny is ready for the challenge, a slurp of Rosie Lee and it’s on.
Damn phone!!!! You know your timing sucks. ‘Ello Johny Brown ‘ere, want ya want? Alright “boss”... naw I’m just getting some scram down me’ neck before i ‘it the road... yeah I’ve filmed part of me’ promo last night... yeah I’ve done the narration, they’re just gotta splice it an’ we’ll get it sent over...
You’re right, they’ are running scared or something, I expected more, Demon had all the hype but so far has failed to deliver, maybe he thinks shilling ‘is wares is beneath him, the dude has been a top line act all over the globe, with success comes ego. I have problem putting this punk b*tch in his place, Knox too.
Britain owns America, we have since day one, those ungrateful brave and the bold pu$$ies turned on us, well let me be the Ambassador of Violence showing them that we made them and now we can break them. Yeah i know more borderline xenophobia, yes it’s not racism when you’re the same race, but never let facts get in the way of a good animal analogy... What oh the gold finds him line? Well flies find shit what does that prove?... exactly look I might ‘ang around a bit there’s a tasty bird ‘ere i wanna check out...sweet as, later
With his brief and pretty much non-sensical conversation out of the way Johnny makes short work of his “scram” (it’s a British thing I assume) when he’s done he makes sure the “tasty bird” attention is sought. He clips her wings with a charming smile as he switches to full on English charmer. He takes her hand as she reaches for the plate smeared with egg yolk.
Good morning fair maiden, i don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure. Allow me to introduce myself I’m Jonathan Brown III, and you are...
Exactly as planned the waitress covers her giggling mouth, just showing a delicious slice of tongue, as its tip traces her pearly whites.
Jolene... tee hee. You speak so well, not like folk from around here Mr. Brown, sir.
Please call me John. Jolene what would you say if i said i could take you away from all this and back to Blighty with me?
Leave here, why i wish for it every day, could you take me with you?
Of course my dear, I tell you what... what time do you finish your shift in this fine establishment?
Just over an hour from now.
Well y fait Jolene, I am staying in a quaint room at the local motel, trying to experience the real heart and soul of this... this... place, why don’t you pop over and we can make plans, the rooms 101.
Jonny, sorry Jonathan writes down his details on a napkin and leaves with a smile and a polite nod. The bell on the door rings as he leaves covering his parting comment he makes to himself.
Some dumb tarts gonna get ‘er back doors smashed in!
I have defeated this earthworm with my words. Imagine what I would have done with my fire breathing fists. Man Charlie Sheen is one coked out dude.
Here i am sat in a shitty motel in... Well i don’t care where. Amazingly the place has Wi-Fi. My mysterious sponsor says i need to check my feedback, doesn’t he realise fans don’t like me, fans aren’t supposed to like me. I’m no cool heel looking to sell merch or bring back a long obsolete band to make me relevant. I’m Johnny Brown, ‘Cool Britannia’ a man with true British grit, that was what got us through the Blitz; as me’ great Nan would say, god rest her.
I think this shithole was last decorated during the war, the wallpaper is brown and hanging off the wall. You’d thought the mould would hold it up. It kinda reminds me of a place in West Brom me and me’ folks squatted in once. One big difference is that Brom is a haven of racial enlightenment when compared to this place. If the local rag said a tanning business was run outta town for making folks ‘too dark’ I’d believe it.
I’m ok; with my shaved head the keep calling me brother, either they’ve watched too many wrestling promos or their hat collections includes hoods.
With fingers a blur; that why the birds love me, I flick past the typical IWC feedback, quoting the current meme, or even old ones. In response to “SBSat”, No my shirt isn’t too tight and onto the stuff that matters. Note: it matters to my sponsor not me.
Apparently you can’t understand my accent, you complain about my mixed syntax an’ juxtaposition, which let’s face it is quite intelligent considering the usual drivel APW fans allow to fall out of their slack jaws. Before I continue narrating this piece allow me to reiterate if i may (was that clear enough “APWrools69”) I DON’T F’N CARE!
Yeah it’s my job to talk you into the building, to make you want to come and see me get my arse kicked but let’s face it with the two guys they’ve put me up against... that aint gonna happen. Teddy an’ Tommy as good as you seem to think they are NOT as good as me.
As you can see in this shot, I’m scanning info sent to me by my sponsor’s team. Info about Demon’s time in the Outkasts and the kinda shit they pulled, not too shabby. He looks different, might not even be him, perhaps he deserves the favoured status given ta ‘im by the masses. I’m still not sold, jeh-sus his name is Ted... Ted Soul... the big bad Demon is called Theodore Soul? I’m not sure which part of that i find the most amusing do ya think ‘is dad is David Soul of Starsky and Hutch fame? The blonde dude that sang Siilllver Layyyyydeeee OK singing aint my strong point, but look at the footage, I’m pissing me’self, and for those that don’t understand the Queens English, that means I’m laughing... a lot, not that me’ pants are now filled with a warm yellow fluid.
So, Theodore you were born to that name rather than choosing it in a misguided belief that it would strike fear into the hearts of your opponents? You need to slap your parents the next time the doctors let you visit them in the funny farm, after enduring your riposte to my initial outing I cannot wait to shatter the illusion that you’re something special, the hype that you’ve surrounded yourself with wont help you when we step into the ring. Of course your previous alliance with the third man in our dance might.
You, Kash and Tommy were the ‘Influential Minds’, ummm yeah great name. Judging by your combined history you’re just as likely to kick each others’ arses as you are mine so we might be good. Tommy’s drug abuse seems to have driven a wedge in your alliance before; this time I have a pair of size 12’s that’ll drive a wedge between yer ears.
You two can skip to the ring ‘olding ‘ands I don’t care; if you brawl down the aisle like it was a Big Fat Gypsy Wedding I don’t care! That’s becoming my catchphrase, a t-shirt opportunity looms mee thinks. If sells anything can.
Whatever ‘appens ‘appens, me’ sweating the whys and wherefores of the given situation aint gonna change $hit. If ya take a look at ‘me mug you can see that I can take a kicking, my nose has been spread more times than Jordan an’ that Welsh bird from Big Bro’ combined.
I tell ya what Tommy, you like a bet don’t ya? It’s no secret! Why don’t we place a wager? Do ya ‘ave Williams ‘ills over ‘ere? Me’ granddad and me used to spend hours in WH when we was on our hols, most kids played on Yarmouth beach, me I used to watch the desperate old men hoping for some old nag avoids the glue factory long enough to romp ‘ome. Most were too drunk to realise what was going on ‘alf the time, I’d rob their tickets or wallets when they got too rat-arsed or when their fat fishwife of a missus comes and drags them out ; while their ‘alf dozen dirty faced screaming nippers run riot. Ah ‘orse racing... the sport of kings.
Anyhow Tom Tom as i was saying before I took a wander down memory lane, let me offer you an extra incentive let’s see who can punch Demon the most, let’s see who can get more kicks in, £10 per blow, winner takes the pot. If either hits there finish its a grand straight, what do ya say?
If ya feeling rich we could up the ante... come on Tom i know you can feel it in ya blood, the desire to gamble and win, if you’ve lost yer nutsack in a card game already that’s cool, at Asylum i just have a bigger ‘ill to climb.
Mr. Invisible Knox, so far you are a non-factor, Demon... well that’s another story. You have finally found a voice, one that doesn’t seem to have a real opinion other than disliking me. You see Mr Soul i do rant ‘ere an’ there.
Yer see TED, I have thoughts of my own, thoughts that are not limited to DEMON SMASH! Are you just a one-dimensional 'rassler from the 80’s talking about winning the big gold belt and talking in clichés, “your darkest times are about to begin now” WTF man? *click* consider me the shining light, think of me as a Red, White ‘n’ Blue Lantern using my light to rid APW of the dross you bring...
So what if you repeat my promo verbatim, BTW cockamamie? Seriously what are you thinking using words like that? Again it just shows how out of touch you are, I take the viewers behind the curtain; whether they like it or not, I drag them kicking and screaming into my world, and no I couldn’t give a damn what they think, I’m an unashamed self-publicist looking glass. APW is the avenue for me to tell the world about me. It’s not a sob story it’s my story. I don’t ask for nor expect quarter or sympathy and i sure as hell don’t give either...
Knox; you piece of 237lb window dressing come to fight or stay the hell out of our way.
I’m Johnny Brown and your both gonna get yer f’n ‘eads KICKED IN!
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Red and white Formica is everywhere. Typical of a mom n’ pop dinner anywhere in the U.S. Johnny Brown is drawn to these places like a moth to a flame. Places like this were his dining room growing up. He once set a record amongst his kin for most sugar and ketchup packets hidden on his person, the exact figure is lost amongst less pleasant childhood memories but at the time damn he was proud of it.
It kept the family in food for a few days, well that and some day old bread from Londis, a bit of muck on your face and a few tears courtesy of a sibling dead arm and they would give it to you for nothing. Or at least that’s the story Johnny recounts. Tales of sugar and sauce sandwiches coupled with comedowns oh they are fun.
Faced with a full English breakfast, lean carbs be damned, Johnny is ready for the challenge, a slurp of Rosie Lee and it’s on.
Damn phone!!!! You know your timing sucks. ‘Ello Johny Brown ‘ere, want ya want? Alright “boss”... naw I’m just getting some scram down me’ neck before i ‘it the road... yeah I’ve filmed part of me’ promo last night... yeah I’ve done the narration, they’re just gotta splice it an’ we’ll get it sent over...
You’re right, they’ are running scared or something, I expected more, Demon had all the hype but so far has failed to deliver, maybe he thinks shilling ‘is wares is beneath him, the dude has been a top line act all over the globe, with success comes ego. I have problem putting this punk b*tch in his place, Knox too.
Britain owns America, we have since day one, those ungrateful brave and the bold pu$$ies turned on us, well let me be the Ambassador of Violence showing them that we made them and now we can break them. Yeah i know more borderline xenophobia, yes it’s not racism when you’re the same race, but never let facts get in the way of a good animal analogy... What oh the gold finds him line? Well flies find shit what does that prove?... exactly look I might ‘ang around a bit there’s a tasty bird ‘ere i wanna check out...sweet as, later
With his brief and pretty much non-sensical conversation out of the way Johnny makes short work of his “scram” (it’s a British thing I assume) when he’s done he makes sure the “tasty bird” attention is sought. He clips her wings with a charming smile as he switches to full on English charmer. He takes her hand as she reaches for the plate smeared with egg yolk.
Good morning fair maiden, i don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure. Allow me to introduce myself I’m Jonathan Brown III, and you are...
Exactly as planned the waitress covers her giggling mouth, just showing a delicious slice of tongue, as its tip traces her pearly whites.
Jolene... tee hee. You speak so well, not like folk from around here Mr. Brown, sir.
Please call me John. Jolene what would you say if i said i could take you away from all this and back to Blighty with me?
Leave here, why i wish for it every day, could you take me with you?
Of course my dear, I tell you what... what time do you finish your shift in this fine establishment?
Just over an hour from now.
Well y fait Jolene, I am staying in a quaint room at the local motel, trying to experience the real heart and soul of this... this... place, why don’t you pop over and we can make plans, the rooms 101.
Jonny, sorry Jonathan writes down his details on a napkin and leaves with a smile and a polite nod. The bell on the door rings as he leaves covering his parting comment he makes to himself.
Some dumb tarts gonna get ‘er back doors smashed in!
