Post by jasoncash on Dec 30, 2016 20:56:37 GMT -5
What a fucking One, right? Joey Flash wins the world title. And the trios war was won by Beachkrew. Im sure those motherfuckers are going to play it off like they won without even breaking a sweat. They cocky fucks after all..but we all know I was a fucking battle for the ages. Both teams gave it their all. Both teams limped out. Is this whole thing over? Fuuuuuck no. ZT and Pantheon are the top two stables in the business. Of course it isn't over! Enough of my bullshit. Lets get to it.
Jason Cash was beat up. His ribs were taped. Both eyes were black. And he was missing a tooth. Guy looked liked he'd been in a war as he stood on Erik Black's wrestling mat. Jason looked like he'd been in a car wreck, but did it bother him? No. Jason Cash had a certain gleam in his eye. It was never about winning for him. It never had been. He simply loved to fight. Where most thrived to gain gold...fame...Jason Cash only wanted a good fight. Some called him weird. Some respected the hillbilly even more.
Now, I mentioned Erik Black's mat. Jason WAS in Erik's home, but Erik wasn't there. Instead, Frankie Everheart stood across from our hillbilly hero. Frankie stood out in the all white room. His skin was tan as if he'd spent his whole life on the surface of the sun. His head was shaved and his brown eyes peirced through Jason. His black mma shorts hung down to his knees.
Frankie never like Jason. You see, Frankie was Erik Black's best student. He took everything seriously. He kept to a strict diet. He kept to a strict training routine.
Fighting was his life, but Erik never signed him to a Zero Tolerance contract. Erik always told him that he wasn't ready. The guy was undefeated among amateurs. He'd gone through his opponents like a hot knife through butter but he wasn't ready? And Jason Cash was? And that's why Frankie hated Jason Cash. Cash was brash. He was stupid. And he didn't have any real fighting skills. Not the kind Franke had anyway. Sure the guy could throw a hellacious right hook and he could take a beating, but the guy couldn't do a technical wrestling move to save his life. So why would Cash be signed, but not him? He hated Cash more than Jaymz did.
Frankie: I dont fucking know why, but Erik wanted me to train you in some jiu jitsu.
Cash nodded his head. He'd wondered why he was asked to visit Erik's home while Erik wasn't there, but thought no more of it when he found the beer.
Frankie: Look at you. Your ribs are taped up. You have two black eyes and a tooth missing. Why the smile? You got your ass kicked.
Frankie shook his head. Jason just laughed.
Jason: Hell son. It aint bout winnin. It's the sumbitchin journey. It's how ya got there. You just gone take that asswhoopin or are ya gonna fight back?
Frankie sighed to himself.
Frankie: What in the actual fuck does that even mean? You lost. End of story.
Jason: It was a good ass fight. Them sumbitches gave us a fight the likes of which my ass aint never seen 'fore. Them sumbitches fought back hard son. An we did too.
Jason took a drink of his beer before stretching his arms.
Frankie: It doesn't matter. Im here because Erik wants you to be better. Right now, you fucking suck..With you "It's all about the fight" bullshit.
Jason grinned and motioned for Frankie to bring it. And Frankie did. He rushed Jason with a flurry of punches and a kick to the ribs. All of which landed. Jason fell to his knees. He kneeled there with a hand on his ribs and a smile on his face. He got up and motioned again. And again, Frankie rushed him with a flurry of punches and a kick to the ribs. Everything was done with perfect form. Everything landed. Jason fell to a knee. He kneeled there with a hand on the right side of his torso and a smile on his face.
Frankie: What's so fucking funny? You're getting your ass kicked.
Jason: All that fightin trainin...an ya still don't know bout fightin.
Jason barely had time to react before Frankie attacked again. Flurry of punches, all connecting with Jason's body and face. However, Jason caught the kick. He stepped inside and tripped Frankie. Frankie fell on his back. Jason Cash smiled down on him.
Jason: Better luck next time?
Frankie was furious. His skin burned with rage. Im sure I you looked close enough, you could see smoke coming out of his ears. How did this happen? Jason Cash was just a drunkard.
Frankie tried a leg sweep from his back. Jason easily jumped it. He landed on his feet with a smile. Frankie got up. He rushed Jason with a tackle. Jason simply rolled through it, basically ddting Frankie.
Jason: Still thank it aint all about the fight?
Frankie quickly got up.
Frankie: Fuck that nonsense.
Frankie rushed with a flurry of punches, ending with a kicked to Jason's right leg. Jason laughed as he got up.
Frankie: What the fuck is so funny?
Jason rubbed his thigh.
Jason: All that trainin..An ya aint got no fight in ya. Ya gotta have fun in that rang, Frank. You don't sumbitchin have fun in there. That's why Erik aint never sign ya. Ya just dont damn it have fun. Shep? That sumbitch has a fuckin blast when his ass fights. That's what makes him good. Hell Erik loves a good fight. Gives that sumbitch a way to test his skill. You? You aint never gone be shit till ya have fun in a sumbitchin fight.
Frankie was highly pissed. How could Jason, a simple minded hillbilly who does nothing but drink, beat him? Experience? No. Skill? Fuck no. Maybe Jason was right. Maybe you really do have to love fighting to actually be great. I mean..You could be ok like Jared Hopmes and Wade Moor. Or you can be great like Jason Cash, Salem Sheppard, Crazy J...even Johnny Rabid. Of course Frankie Everheart would deny it. And he did.
Frankie: Not when you have the skill I do!
Jason saw the right hook coming. He ducked it, spun Frankie around, and hit a massive Rebel Yell. Frankie laid there trying to catch his breathe.
Jason: Good talk.
Jason got to the door but stopped and turned around.
Jason: Ya remind my ass of Beachkrew. See. You can do this..that..the other thang. Flippity dos..flippity donts..but if ya don't love a good fight, ya dont win wars. See..Theyre just cocky as all hell..Just like you. But them sumbitches don't like a good fight. That's why they went an rounded up everybody they felt threatened by...So they each didnt think they could damn it lose. No fight in em...An its cause of that..That they gone lose this sumbitchin war. Frank..When ya understand that ya gotta love a good ass fight..THEN you gone be great.
Jason walked out of the training room, leaving young Frankie Everheart alone to think. Maybe Jason was right. After all, he was extremely successful in the wrestling business. He'd held numerous titles over the years, but they never seemed to matter to him. He never got that familiar twinkle in his eyes when he won a belt. No..the twinkle in his eyes came due to what he considered a good fight. The man simply loved to fight. He always had.
And we cut to Jason's small, seventies era single wide trailer. The place was packed. There was a party going on because..Fuck it..Its close to New Years, right? Right. So Jason Cash and company were partying. There was beer. There was food. There was a topless woman in the corner talking to a plant. Maybe she got into Shep's stash. There was even a woman screaming "Take this shit outside". Of course that was Jason's wife Nicole. She was angry as hell. Why? Well Jason never told her about the party. They were loud and baby Molly wouldn't go to sleep due to all the noise.
Shep: Man this Hank Williams shit is depressing as fuck.
Jason ignored his partner. His wife was yelling at him after all.
Jason: Sorry, hoss. Ole Hank aint goin nowhere. We gotta get the shit outa here anyway. Wife is losin her shit.
Shep's jaws dropped. He knew that an angry Nicole Cash was a dangerous one.
Shep: Fuck, homie.
Crazy J: The fuck yall talking about?
Shep: Cash wife wants us out.
There was nothing said. Nothing needed to be said. Nicole wanted the party moved, so they moved it...To Jason's barn. And what was Jason's barn? Well..the million dollar house. Oh yes. Our hillbilly hero had turned that house into a barn.
And so there among the topless women, Shep and his veggies, Crazy J, a few midgets and that biych talking to a plant, were chicken, and a goat.
Shep was scared shitless. He didn't know if his weed was laced or what, but he kept seeing midgets with flaming heads. It scared the hell out of him.
Jason: Fuckin hell, Shep. Yer eyes all bugged out.
Shep looked over to Cash. He looked normal like he always did.
Shep: Im freaking out, homie. Im seein fuckin midgets with their heads on fire.
Cash laughed and damn near spit out his beer. He didn't, however. Would have been a waste if he did.
Jason: Aint no midgets at all, hoss. Fuck wrong with ya? Gettin scared bout Slam?
Was he really? Fuck no he wasn't. Why would he be? Was Cash simply screwing with Shep? Of course.
Shep: Fuck no, homie. Imma win that shit. Gone beat your ass, that fuckin condom's ass..AND theivin steven's ass. All that ass is gonna get whooped.
Cash laughed again. Something flew out of his right hand. It hit Shep in the face, knocking him down. He screamed loud enough to drown out the music. It was about that time when Crazy J walked over to see what the commotion was.
Crazy J: Fuck Shep. Why are you making out with that midget?
Cash had thrown a blonde haired midget woman at Shep. Shep himself didnt really know what the actual fuck was going on. All he knew was that there was something with a flaming head on him and he was trying desperately to get it off.
Shep: Midget? Get it the fuck off me.
Man: Shut up! Oh really? Dont tell me. You know you like it.
The voice came from Jason's right and off camera. Jason tipped his beer back and looked over at the guy.
Jason: Who the fuck is this sumbitch? You brang his ass, J?
Crazy J shrugged his shoulder.
Crazy J: Not a fucking clue, bruh. Fucker just kind of showed up.
Jason shook his head.
Jason: So much fer ZT security, right? We can't damn it go no sumbitchin where..but folks what talks to they selves just walks right the hell on in.
J looked behind him in the direction. The man who was arguing with himself was. He shrugged his shoulders.
Crazy J: You think we should help Shep? He's freaking the fuck out about that midget.
Jason shook his head and looked down. Shep was still trying to get the midget woman off of him. Jason and J found this hillarious.
Crazy J: Dont you have a promo to shoot?
Jason looked over at the camera.
Jason: The hell ya thank Im doin? This here sumbitch with the camera..filmin the whole damn thang. I reckon he wants me to talk bout the opinents an what not.
Jason cleared his throat.
Jason: So Jason, how do you sumbitchin feel bout the match at slam? You be facin Shep, an actual condom wrapper, and steven seagal..er..Singh.
Jason took a drink of beer.
Jason: Well, Mr. Cash. I dont damn it thank much of em. Im a fighter. Shep a fighter. Cap'n Pantyhose aint...and Steven must be some kinda sanger. Shep gone fight. Cap'n gone try an shove his whole head up some woman's snatch...and Steve gone sang us a song. The hell else you wanna know?
Jason cleared his throat.
Jason: Well how do ya sumbitchin feel bout havin to fight yer tag partner?
Jason drank his beer.
Jason: Aint nothin but a thang. My ass will fight any damn body. This mess don't get personal. It's all business. An..well..Im gone have to beat his ass. That is..if that sumbitchin midget dont get him first.
Jason cleared his throat to change his voice.
Jason: But ole Shep aint no push over.
Jason laughed to himself.
Jason: You fuckin right his ass aint no pushover. He a bad sumbitch..but that don't damn it matter. His ass ain't got the experience my ass got. Sumbitch's a natural fighter.
Jason cleared his throat and tried to look professional.
Jason: Do ya happen ta thank old Cap'n is dangerous?
Jason drank some beer.
Jason: Shit naw. That sumbitch ain't worth a squirt of piss....with his chunky eyes. Aint worth a damn in that rang..outa that rang...in a pool. In a car. Or a bar. He just ain't worth a damn. That's why his ass ain't damn I winnin. He a bum. An don't get my ass started on Theivin Steven. He gotta big mouth. Sumbitch sure can talk some shit though. It's like a gift from God. Sumbitch can strang the puns together...sumbitch can't fight though...thats why I'm gone Ben him over and literally shove my boot up..his...ass.
Jason coughed again.
Jason: Those were some toughwords, Mr. Cash. The good Captain has been a great addition to wssf. He's a tag champion. He's just..swell.
Jason drank a beer.
Jason: The hell you say? That sumbitch wears a damn condom an thanks he got super powers. What's his super powers? Gettin his ass whooped? He got the good ass power of bein a fuckin midget chink? How bout the power oghittin like a bitch? His cupeth runeth over with the bitch. That sumbitch couldn't whoop his own ass an he thanks he gone whoop mine? Shiiiiit. That sumbitch in for a rude ass awake in, son. Hell he in for a damn nightmare.
Jason coughed to change hisboice.
Jason: So.e might say that you is a racist for saying chink.
Jason drank a beer.
Jason: My ass aint no damn racist. It's just that..you know..that sumbitch got the chinky eyes, a teeny dick an he can't drive. Prolly good as hell at math. That sumbitches tag partner in there though. Ole Steven Sang. He a damn thief. Sumbitch was sittin in a damn corner at the war just damn kt waitin for a pin. Then his ass stole it. His ass aint tough. Im tough. Shep is tough. That sumbitch is soft. That sumbitch is like mashed tators. That sumbitch gone get a boot right up his ass. Sumbitch aint gone know what to do with his self. He prolly gone leave the condom kid by his self. Sumbitch gone get his ass whooped.
Jason coughed to change his voice
Jason: Thank you Mr. Cash. You are the baddest sumbitch walkin.
Jason looked over at J, who was busy watching Shep roll around with the midget.
Jason: That mess good enough? Now lets help Shep out.
Scene fades
Jason Cash was beat up. His ribs were taped. Both eyes were black. And he was missing a tooth. Guy looked liked he'd been in a war as he stood on Erik Black's wrestling mat. Jason looked like he'd been in a car wreck, but did it bother him? No. Jason Cash had a certain gleam in his eye. It was never about winning for him. It never had been. He simply loved to fight. Where most thrived to gain gold...fame...Jason Cash only wanted a good fight. Some called him weird. Some respected the hillbilly even more.
Now, I mentioned Erik Black's mat. Jason WAS in Erik's home, but Erik wasn't there. Instead, Frankie Everheart stood across from our hillbilly hero. Frankie stood out in the all white room. His skin was tan as if he'd spent his whole life on the surface of the sun. His head was shaved and his brown eyes peirced through Jason. His black mma shorts hung down to his knees.
Frankie never like Jason. You see, Frankie was Erik Black's best student. He took everything seriously. He kept to a strict diet. He kept to a strict training routine.
Fighting was his life, but Erik never signed him to a Zero Tolerance contract. Erik always told him that he wasn't ready. The guy was undefeated among amateurs. He'd gone through his opponents like a hot knife through butter but he wasn't ready? And Jason Cash was? And that's why Frankie hated Jason Cash. Cash was brash. He was stupid. And he didn't have any real fighting skills. Not the kind Franke had anyway. Sure the guy could throw a hellacious right hook and he could take a beating, but the guy couldn't do a technical wrestling move to save his life. So why would Cash be signed, but not him? He hated Cash more than Jaymz did.
Frankie: I dont fucking know why, but Erik wanted me to train you in some jiu jitsu.
Cash nodded his head. He'd wondered why he was asked to visit Erik's home while Erik wasn't there, but thought no more of it when he found the beer.
Frankie: Look at you. Your ribs are taped up. You have two black eyes and a tooth missing. Why the smile? You got your ass kicked.
Frankie shook his head. Jason just laughed.
Jason: Hell son. It aint bout winnin. It's the sumbitchin journey. It's how ya got there. You just gone take that asswhoopin or are ya gonna fight back?
Frankie sighed to himself.
Frankie: What in the actual fuck does that even mean? You lost. End of story.
Jason: It was a good ass fight. Them sumbitches gave us a fight the likes of which my ass aint never seen 'fore. Them sumbitches fought back hard son. An we did too.
Jason took a drink of his beer before stretching his arms.
Frankie: It doesn't matter. Im here because Erik wants you to be better. Right now, you fucking suck..With you "It's all about the fight" bullshit.
Jason grinned and motioned for Frankie to bring it. And Frankie did. He rushed Jason with a flurry of punches and a kick to the ribs. All of which landed. Jason fell to his knees. He kneeled there with a hand on his ribs and a smile on his face. He got up and motioned again. And again, Frankie rushed him with a flurry of punches and a kick to the ribs. Everything was done with perfect form. Everything landed. Jason fell to a knee. He kneeled there with a hand on the right side of his torso and a smile on his face.
Frankie: What's so fucking funny? You're getting your ass kicked.
Jason: All that fightin trainin...an ya still don't know bout fightin.
Jason barely had time to react before Frankie attacked again. Flurry of punches, all connecting with Jason's body and face. However, Jason caught the kick. He stepped inside and tripped Frankie. Frankie fell on his back. Jason Cash smiled down on him.
Jason: Better luck next time?
Frankie was furious. His skin burned with rage. Im sure I you looked close enough, you could see smoke coming out of his ears. How did this happen? Jason Cash was just a drunkard.
Frankie tried a leg sweep from his back. Jason easily jumped it. He landed on his feet with a smile. Frankie got up. He rushed Jason with a tackle. Jason simply rolled through it, basically ddting Frankie.
Jason: Still thank it aint all about the fight?
Frankie quickly got up.
Frankie: Fuck that nonsense.
Frankie rushed with a flurry of punches, ending with a kicked to Jason's right leg. Jason laughed as he got up.
Frankie: What the fuck is so funny?
Jason rubbed his thigh.
Jason: All that trainin..An ya aint got no fight in ya. Ya gotta have fun in that rang, Frank. You don't sumbitchin have fun in there. That's why Erik aint never sign ya. Ya just dont damn it have fun. Shep? That sumbitch has a fuckin blast when his ass fights. That's what makes him good. Hell Erik loves a good fight. Gives that sumbitch a way to test his skill. You? You aint never gone be shit till ya have fun in a sumbitchin fight.
Frankie was highly pissed. How could Jason, a simple minded hillbilly who does nothing but drink, beat him? Experience? No. Skill? Fuck no. Maybe Jason was right. Maybe you really do have to love fighting to actually be great. I mean..You could be ok like Jared Hopmes and Wade Moor. Or you can be great like Jason Cash, Salem Sheppard, Crazy J...even Johnny Rabid. Of course Frankie Everheart would deny it. And he did.
Frankie: Not when you have the skill I do!
Jason saw the right hook coming. He ducked it, spun Frankie around, and hit a massive Rebel Yell. Frankie laid there trying to catch his breathe.
Jason: Good talk.
Jason got to the door but stopped and turned around.
Jason: Ya remind my ass of Beachkrew. See. You can do this..that..the other thang. Flippity dos..flippity donts..but if ya don't love a good fight, ya dont win wars. See..Theyre just cocky as all hell..Just like you. But them sumbitches don't like a good fight. That's why they went an rounded up everybody they felt threatened by...So they each didnt think they could damn it lose. No fight in em...An its cause of that..That they gone lose this sumbitchin war. Frank..When ya understand that ya gotta love a good ass fight..THEN you gone be great.
Jason walked out of the training room, leaving young Frankie Everheart alone to think. Maybe Jason was right. After all, he was extremely successful in the wrestling business. He'd held numerous titles over the years, but they never seemed to matter to him. He never got that familiar twinkle in his eyes when he won a belt. No..the twinkle in his eyes came due to what he considered a good fight. The man simply loved to fight. He always had.
And we cut to Jason's small, seventies era single wide trailer. The place was packed. There was a party going on because..Fuck it..Its close to New Years, right? Right. So Jason Cash and company were partying. There was beer. There was food. There was a topless woman in the corner talking to a plant. Maybe she got into Shep's stash. There was even a woman screaming "Take this shit outside". Of course that was Jason's wife Nicole. She was angry as hell. Why? Well Jason never told her about the party. They were loud and baby Molly wouldn't go to sleep due to all the noise.
Shep: Man this Hank Williams shit is depressing as fuck.
Jason ignored his partner. His wife was yelling at him after all.
Jason: Sorry, hoss. Ole Hank aint goin nowhere. We gotta get the shit outa here anyway. Wife is losin her shit.
Shep's jaws dropped. He knew that an angry Nicole Cash was a dangerous one.
Shep: Fuck, homie.
Crazy J: The fuck yall talking about?
Shep: Cash wife wants us out.
There was nothing said. Nothing needed to be said. Nicole wanted the party moved, so they moved it...To Jason's barn. And what was Jason's barn? Well..the million dollar house. Oh yes. Our hillbilly hero had turned that house into a barn.
And so there among the topless women, Shep and his veggies, Crazy J, a few midgets and that biych talking to a plant, were chicken, and a goat.
Shep was scared shitless. He didn't know if his weed was laced or what, but he kept seeing midgets with flaming heads. It scared the hell out of him.
Jason: Fuckin hell, Shep. Yer eyes all bugged out.
Shep looked over to Cash. He looked normal like he always did.
Shep: Im freaking out, homie. Im seein fuckin midgets with their heads on fire.
Cash laughed and damn near spit out his beer. He didn't, however. Would have been a waste if he did.
Jason: Aint no midgets at all, hoss. Fuck wrong with ya? Gettin scared bout Slam?
Was he really? Fuck no he wasn't. Why would he be? Was Cash simply screwing with Shep? Of course.
Shep: Fuck no, homie. Imma win that shit. Gone beat your ass, that fuckin condom's ass..AND theivin steven's ass. All that ass is gonna get whooped.
Cash laughed again. Something flew out of his right hand. It hit Shep in the face, knocking him down. He screamed loud enough to drown out the music. It was about that time when Crazy J walked over to see what the commotion was.
Crazy J: Fuck Shep. Why are you making out with that midget?
Cash had thrown a blonde haired midget woman at Shep. Shep himself didnt really know what the actual fuck was going on. All he knew was that there was something with a flaming head on him and he was trying desperately to get it off.
Shep: Midget? Get it the fuck off me.
Man: Shut up! Oh really? Dont tell me. You know you like it.
The voice came from Jason's right and off camera. Jason tipped his beer back and looked over at the guy.
Jason: Who the fuck is this sumbitch? You brang his ass, J?
Crazy J shrugged his shoulder.
Crazy J: Not a fucking clue, bruh. Fucker just kind of showed up.
Jason shook his head.
Jason: So much fer ZT security, right? We can't damn it go no sumbitchin where..but folks what talks to they selves just walks right the hell on in.
J looked behind him in the direction. The man who was arguing with himself was. He shrugged his shoulders.
Crazy J: You think we should help Shep? He's freaking the fuck out about that midget.
Jason shook his head and looked down. Shep was still trying to get the midget woman off of him. Jason and J found this hillarious.
Crazy J: Dont you have a promo to shoot?
Jason looked over at the camera.
Jason: The hell ya thank Im doin? This here sumbitch with the camera..filmin the whole damn thang. I reckon he wants me to talk bout the opinents an what not.
Jason cleared his throat.
Jason: So Jason, how do you sumbitchin feel bout the match at slam? You be facin Shep, an actual condom wrapper, and steven seagal..er..Singh.
Jason took a drink of beer.
Jason: Well, Mr. Cash. I dont damn it thank much of em. Im a fighter. Shep a fighter. Cap'n Pantyhose aint...and Steven must be some kinda sanger. Shep gone fight. Cap'n gone try an shove his whole head up some woman's snatch...and Steve gone sang us a song. The hell else you wanna know?
Jason cleared his throat.
Jason: Well how do ya sumbitchin feel bout havin to fight yer tag partner?
Jason drank his beer.
Jason: Aint nothin but a thang. My ass will fight any damn body. This mess don't get personal. It's all business. An..well..Im gone have to beat his ass. That is..if that sumbitchin midget dont get him first.
Jason cleared his throat to change his voice.
Jason: But ole Shep aint no push over.
Jason laughed to himself.
Jason: You fuckin right his ass aint no pushover. He a bad sumbitch..but that don't damn it matter. His ass ain't got the experience my ass got. Sumbitch's a natural fighter.
Jason cleared his throat and tried to look professional.
Jason: Do ya happen ta thank old Cap'n is dangerous?
Jason drank some beer.
Jason: Shit naw. That sumbitch ain't worth a squirt of piss....with his chunky eyes. Aint worth a damn in that rang..outa that rang...in a pool. In a car. Or a bar. He just ain't worth a damn. That's why his ass ain't damn I winnin. He a bum. An don't get my ass started on Theivin Steven. He gotta big mouth. Sumbitch sure can talk some shit though. It's like a gift from God. Sumbitch can strang the puns together...sumbitch can't fight though...thats why I'm gone Ben him over and literally shove my boot up..his...ass.
Jason coughed again.
Jason: Those were some toughwords, Mr. Cash. The good Captain has been a great addition to wssf. He's a tag champion. He's just..swell.
Jason drank a beer.
Jason: The hell you say? That sumbitch wears a damn condom an thanks he got super powers. What's his super powers? Gettin his ass whooped? He got the good ass power of bein a fuckin midget chink? How bout the power oghittin like a bitch? His cupeth runeth over with the bitch. That sumbitch couldn't whoop his own ass an he thanks he gone whoop mine? Shiiiiit. That sumbitch in for a rude ass awake in, son. Hell he in for a damn nightmare.
Jason coughed to change hisboice.
Jason: So.e might say that you is a racist for saying chink.
Jason drank a beer.
Jason: My ass aint no damn racist. It's just that..you know..that sumbitch got the chinky eyes, a teeny dick an he can't drive. Prolly good as hell at math. That sumbitches tag partner in there though. Ole Steven Sang. He a damn thief. Sumbitch was sittin in a damn corner at the war just damn kt waitin for a pin. Then his ass stole it. His ass aint tough. Im tough. Shep is tough. That sumbitch is soft. That sumbitch is like mashed tators. That sumbitch gone get a boot right up his ass. Sumbitch aint gone know what to do with his self. He prolly gone leave the condom kid by his self. Sumbitch gone get his ass whooped.
Jason coughed to change his voice
Jason: Thank you Mr. Cash. You are the baddest sumbitch walkin.
Jason looked over at J, who was busy watching Shep roll around with the midget.
Jason: That mess good enough? Now lets help Shep out.
Scene fades