Post by Deleted on Dec 24, 2015 12:05:24 GMT -5
The titantron is intercepted by a video feed transferred from Dag's house once again. He had to go to some length to convince tech to allow him to stream this "promo" when he is supposed to be in the arena, live, hyping up the PPV. If you have learned anything about Dag, which, perhaps I ought to grant you the possibility of sustained ignorance, then you should know that simply isn't Dag's style. So now, he is sitting alone, of course, in his living room, on a soft deep blue couch before a very expensive 52" flat screen. The fancy Hobby Lobby decorations are as prevalent here as in any of his rooms, if not more. If he has to give his thoughts on the idiots in that match, he may as well do it in comfort.
"Here we are again, my good friends. My luxurious house. Isolated, far from any would be neighbors or the likes of you. Was I supposed to show up tonight? Maybe. Did I have a match scheduled? No. Did I see any good reason to have to see, hear of smell your disgusting persons? Absolutely not. Now if you're smart enough you'll put two and two together. If not, it is irrelevant to me. Therefore I intend on doing only what I am absolutely contractually obligated to do, and that's discuss all my opponents for the battle royal this Sunday. I guess it helps that I do kind of want to do this anyway. I've never been one for doing things I don't want to do."
Dag pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket. It is the match card for One.
"So where do I begin? Let's see... Christ, did they add another imbecile since I looked at this list? Brao Kitt... What a stupid name. Well we'll get to him later, seeing as though I don't know jack about him nor do I really intend if I can get away with it. Anyone with a name like that hardly deserves the attention of anyne, let alone someone like me with important things to attend to and relevant people to address. So let's start with everybody's favorite hoodrat, D'Angelo Hall. Boy, I bet this guy thinks he's really somethin'. The blacks always seem to grossly exaggerate their own self worth and ability. Sure, there are a few who proudly stand above the stereotype, like Jimi Hendrix or the new bassist for Alice in Chains. Unfortunately for all of us, Hall is not one of them. He seems to proudly belittle his people with his racist antics, as though he likes making them look bad and proving us Southerners right. Well perhaps I've spent too much time on him already because he seems convinced that he's not even in the battle royal and is instead taking fellow negroid Andre Aquarius.
"Who is Andrea Aquarius, you might ask? I mean, I wouldn't, because I don't give two shits who my opponents are because I know I'm going to win, but you might, because you have to be convinced to blow your social security money on this garbage. In that case, he's an absolute retard. He is intent on poisoning himself with marijuana, which, by the way, is still illegal in all the states not run by incompetent morons, so I have absolutely every intention of reporting him to the police the second we are in one of those states. Well actually I encourage him to continue his self destructive habits. The more pot and booze he consumes the more he'll wear down his own body, making him all the more easy to defeat. So please, continue your illegal, cancerous, stupid habits, all the while thinking you're just the coolest mother fucker. 'Oh look, I smoke weed, aren't I awesome? Please accept me into your social group, I'm too neurotic to create my own identity so I desperately need to fit the mold of your etablished society to feel better about my pathetic life.' Sometimes I surprise myself with how right I am. Now the next one. Hmm, I forget who he is. What about the next guy... Nope. Well it appears I forget who all these people are except Sandy Coconuts. So while I refresh my memory on these generic, non memorable, boring manufactured characters, I'll give my thoughts on this chick."
Dag gets up and grabs his laptop and brings it to a recliner. He sits with the laptop away from the camera and looks into the camera while continuing his speech.
"She's pretty stupid. Well she's really stupid. But after all, she is a woman, so no surprise there. She's a drunk Hawaiian woman who, for some ungodly readon, is here, in the big leagues of WCF. I imagine there's only one explanation for how she got here, and to be honest I can't blame Seth. I mean, she's decent looking. Quite pretty. In other words, I'd pound that sweet ass til it's pulsating red and raw. Ah, I found some info on Bad News Benson. Let's move on, shall we? Hmm... He actually seems like a generic knock off version of me. Too bad he's a complete idiot who didn't out any effort into his little blurb here. We could have worked together. But once again, he just proves that I am practically the only American who understands what's right and wrong. Next.
"Lesean Urban... Well this company has certainly met it's minority quota, I can tell you that. We won't be seeing some black guy on the news pounding his fist on the table because 'THERE HAS TO TO BE MORE BLACKS IN WCF!' like they do with baseball. This guy looks pretty generic. Shit childhood because he refused to leave "tha hood," and... Nevermind, this is just D'Angelo Hall again. Next...
"Colton Moore, what do you bring to the table? 'He is a black belt in brazilian jiujitsu' oh boy, I bet he is, yeah, totally. So he thinks he's the shit because he can kick and punch. Well I've got news for all the "brawlers" out there, this is 'wrestling,' not some jap Super Fighter Street Kicker Punchamania Violence Ultra Fun 53 videogame. If you come at me trying to throw a sloppy ass punch, I'll just grab that arm and lock in the Trump Card before you can even shit your pants. So what else do you bring to the table, like entrance music and crap... 'Doesn't matter?' What is this garbage? Why do all these jack offs not care about how they present themselves? Listen up rookies, you have to make an impression when you come out of that stage. I chose my music becuase it represents me. Listen to the lyrics and see what I mean, basically it says fuck you to everyone who deserves a fuck you. But this clown here thinks he can just make it to the top with some generic garbage that isn't even the same every week. If this is the mindset of my competition, this is just pathetic. Next.
"Jade Shocker. Well the shocker is that this old fuck thinks he can still wrestle. He claims to be a gajillion time world champion, oh surprise, in a defunct company. He claims to be have conquered five feds, oh surprise, he doesn't name any of them. He says people don't know his past, well maybe that's because he's full of shit. This old ass beaner is delusional. Who even let him in the building, let alone sign a contract? This guy is clearly out of his mind. You can't just walk into a muli million dollar corporation and say, 'yeah man, I totally did all these things that I can't really prove or back up, so like, give me a contract, esse'!' That's garbage, that's not how this industry works. He may have slipped his tanned leather ass through the cracks in here, but this Sunday I'm gonna show him that this is not where should-be retirees come to relive their former glory ride to the top off of cheap crowd pops and memories of 'has-dones.' Listen up buddy, because I'm talking right to your over confident face: You've never met anyone from the new generation like me. I'm not going to let someone like you walk right in and take that championship, not before I get my hands on it. I deserve it, not you, and if you somehow got that title shot you'd blow it, because you're too damn old and even any of the idiots I just rattled off could out wrestle you in their sleep. We all have one thing over you, and that's youth. It goes a long way buddy, especially over a has been who I'm sure did his fair share of cocaine back in your so called 'hey day' you love to go on about. Alright, I've wasted enough time on you.
"Oh boy, our buddy Xander Erik here is going the route of originality by being, oh you guessed it, an anti-hero! Oh boy! What kind of anti-hero traits does he portray, you ask? Well let's see... Um... Hmm... Well... He thinks he's cool. Yeah, he's one of those guys. So this clown thinks he's a 'cool' villian and that automatically makes him an anti-hero? Like, 'yeah man, you just beat the shit out of my favorite good guy, but you did it, like, cool, so really, you're the hero.' What a fucking clown. I am absolutely not impressed with the stature of any of my opponents so far. At least he has a representational song, even if it's a shitty one, which is fitting to represent how shitty he is.
"Ahh, yes, I remember this guy. Wallace, the Windy City Wierdo. I'd think he's misplaced, rather he be from the true home of such comedy, Great Britain. I've yet to see this man do anything funny, but with the effort he may well put into his escapades, perhaps I shouldn't be so harsh. It's well on him that I don't poke fun at anyone for how they look, lest I rip the poor guy to shreds. I'm not some shallow woman anyway. I only present relevant facts in my arguments, and I suppose the fact here is that this guy is in the wrong business. Sure, he may be amusing, but pro wrestling is a sport, not a comedy show. In fact, practically every time the big companies have tried to mix comedy into the product, it's failed miserably beyond all comprehension. I can see this going no other direction. Listen here, boy: You may amuse me, but when I get your skinny little ass in that ring, there'll be nothing funny about what I do to you. Consider yourself warned, and consider that full time offer from Chuckle's Laff Lounge.
"Oh, thank goodness it appears I've run through the lot of them. I'm freaking starving. What an ordeal that was, now I'm all worked up and for nothing. After reviewing my competitors it only reaffirms my position as absolute undeniable victor of this battle royal at the grandest show on the company's calendar year. Brilliant. I ought to thank Seth personally for this. It's as though he booked this match just for me to give the finger to all these buffoons who think they're hot shit. Well I really ought to get something to eat now. Continue with your irrelevant lives, ladies and gentlement of the audience."
The feed is shut off.
"Here we are again, my good friends. My luxurious house. Isolated, far from any would be neighbors or the likes of you. Was I supposed to show up tonight? Maybe. Did I have a match scheduled? No. Did I see any good reason to have to see, hear of smell your disgusting persons? Absolutely not. Now if you're smart enough you'll put two and two together. If not, it is irrelevant to me. Therefore I intend on doing only what I am absolutely contractually obligated to do, and that's discuss all my opponents for the battle royal this Sunday. I guess it helps that I do kind of want to do this anyway. I've never been one for doing things I don't want to do."
Dag pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket. It is the match card for One.
"So where do I begin? Let's see... Christ, did they add another imbecile since I looked at this list? Brao Kitt... What a stupid name. Well we'll get to him later, seeing as though I don't know jack about him nor do I really intend if I can get away with it. Anyone with a name like that hardly deserves the attention of anyne, let alone someone like me with important things to attend to and relevant people to address. So let's start with everybody's favorite hoodrat, D'Angelo Hall. Boy, I bet this guy thinks he's really somethin'. The blacks always seem to grossly exaggerate their own self worth and ability. Sure, there are a few who proudly stand above the stereotype, like Jimi Hendrix or the new bassist for Alice in Chains. Unfortunately for all of us, Hall is not one of them. He seems to proudly belittle his people with his racist antics, as though he likes making them look bad and proving us Southerners right. Well perhaps I've spent too much time on him already because he seems convinced that he's not even in the battle royal and is instead taking fellow negroid Andre Aquarius.
"Who is Andrea Aquarius, you might ask? I mean, I wouldn't, because I don't give two shits who my opponents are because I know I'm going to win, but you might, because you have to be convinced to blow your social security money on this garbage. In that case, he's an absolute retard. He is intent on poisoning himself with marijuana, which, by the way, is still illegal in all the states not run by incompetent morons, so I have absolutely every intention of reporting him to the police the second we are in one of those states. Well actually I encourage him to continue his self destructive habits. The more pot and booze he consumes the more he'll wear down his own body, making him all the more easy to defeat. So please, continue your illegal, cancerous, stupid habits, all the while thinking you're just the coolest mother fucker. 'Oh look, I smoke weed, aren't I awesome? Please accept me into your social group, I'm too neurotic to create my own identity so I desperately need to fit the mold of your etablished society to feel better about my pathetic life.' Sometimes I surprise myself with how right I am. Now the next one. Hmm, I forget who he is. What about the next guy... Nope. Well it appears I forget who all these people are except Sandy Coconuts. So while I refresh my memory on these generic, non memorable, boring manufactured characters, I'll give my thoughts on this chick."
Dag gets up and grabs his laptop and brings it to a recliner. He sits with the laptop away from the camera and looks into the camera while continuing his speech.
"She's pretty stupid. Well she's really stupid. But after all, she is a woman, so no surprise there. She's a drunk Hawaiian woman who, for some ungodly readon, is here, in the big leagues of WCF. I imagine there's only one explanation for how she got here, and to be honest I can't blame Seth. I mean, she's decent looking. Quite pretty. In other words, I'd pound that sweet ass til it's pulsating red and raw. Ah, I found some info on Bad News Benson. Let's move on, shall we? Hmm... He actually seems like a generic knock off version of me. Too bad he's a complete idiot who didn't out any effort into his little blurb here. We could have worked together. But once again, he just proves that I am practically the only American who understands what's right and wrong. Next.
"Lesean Urban... Well this company has certainly met it's minority quota, I can tell you that. We won't be seeing some black guy on the news pounding his fist on the table because 'THERE HAS TO TO BE MORE BLACKS IN WCF!' like they do with baseball. This guy looks pretty generic. Shit childhood because he refused to leave "tha hood," and... Nevermind, this is just D'Angelo Hall again. Next...
"Colton Moore, what do you bring to the table? 'He is a black belt in brazilian jiujitsu' oh boy, I bet he is, yeah, totally. So he thinks he's the shit because he can kick and punch. Well I've got news for all the "brawlers" out there, this is 'wrestling,' not some jap Super Fighter Street Kicker Punchamania Violence Ultra Fun 53 videogame. If you come at me trying to throw a sloppy ass punch, I'll just grab that arm and lock in the Trump Card before you can even shit your pants. So what else do you bring to the table, like entrance music and crap... 'Doesn't matter?' What is this garbage? Why do all these jack offs not care about how they present themselves? Listen up rookies, you have to make an impression when you come out of that stage. I chose my music becuase it represents me. Listen to the lyrics and see what I mean, basically it says fuck you to everyone who deserves a fuck you. But this clown here thinks he can just make it to the top with some generic garbage that isn't even the same every week. If this is the mindset of my competition, this is just pathetic. Next.
"Jade Shocker. Well the shocker is that this old fuck thinks he can still wrestle. He claims to be a gajillion time world champion, oh surprise, in a defunct company. He claims to be have conquered five feds, oh surprise, he doesn't name any of them. He says people don't know his past, well maybe that's because he's full of shit. This old ass beaner is delusional. Who even let him in the building, let alone sign a contract? This guy is clearly out of his mind. You can't just walk into a muli million dollar corporation and say, 'yeah man, I totally did all these things that I can't really prove or back up, so like, give me a contract, esse'!' That's garbage, that's not how this industry works. He may have slipped his tanned leather ass through the cracks in here, but this Sunday I'm gonna show him that this is not where should-be retirees come to relive their former glory ride to the top off of cheap crowd pops and memories of 'has-dones.' Listen up buddy, because I'm talking right to your over confident face: You've never met anyone from the new generation like me. I'm not going to let someone like you walk right in and take that championship, not before I get my hands on it. I deserve it, not you, and if you somehow got that title shot you'd blow it, because you're too damn old and even any of the idiots I just rattled off could out wrestle you in their sleep. We all have one thing over you, and that's youth. It goes a long way buddy, especially over a has been who I'm sure did his fair share of cocaine back in your so called 'hey day' you love to go on about. Alright, I've wasted enough time on you.
"Oh boy, our buddy Xander Erik here is going the route of originality by being, oh you guessed it, an anti-hero! Oh boy! What kind of anti-hero traits does he portray, you ask? Well let's see... Um... Hmm... Well... He thinks he's cool. Yeah, he's one of those guys. So this clown thinks he's a 'cool' villian and that automatically makes him an anti-hero? Like, 'yeah man, you just beat the shit out of my favorite good guy, but you did it, like, cool, so really, you're the hero.' What a fucking clown. I am absolutely not impressed with the stature of any of my opponents so far. At least he has a representational song, even if it's a shitty one, which is fitting to represent how shitty he is.
"Ahh, yes, I remember this guy. Wallace, the Windy City Wierdo. I'd think he's misplaced, rather he be from the true home of such comedy, Great Britain. I've yet to see this man do anything funny, but with the effort he may well put into his escapades, perhaps I shouldn't be so harsh. It's well on him that I don't poke fun at anyone for how they look, lest I rip the poor guy to shreds. I'm not some shallow woman anyway. I only present relevant facts in my arguments, and I suppose the fact here is that this guy is in the wrong business. Sure, he may be amusing, but pro wrestling is a sport, not a comedy show. In fact, practically every time the big companies have tried to mix comedy into the product, it's failed miserably beyond all comprehension. I can see this going no other direction. Listen here, boy: You may amuse me, but when I get your skinny little ass in that ring, there'll be nothing funny about what I do to you. Consider yourself warned, and consider that full time offer from Chuckle's Laff Lounge.
"Oh, thank goodness it appears I've run through the lot of them. I'm freaking starving. What an ordeal that was, now I'm all worked up and for nothing. After reviewing my competitors it only reaffirms my position as absolute undeniable victor of this battle royal at the grandest show on the company's calendar year. Brilliant. I ought to thank Seth personally for this. It's as though he booked this match just for me to give the finger to all these buffoons who think they're hot shit. Well I really ought to get something to eat now. Continue with your irrelevant lives, ladies and gentlement of the audience."
The feed is shut off.
