Post by Deleted on Jan 21, 2013 8:38:28 GMT -5
"Scoutmaster" Stuart Slane is standing outside the PNC Center. He's got on a Boy Scouts of America grey tee shirt under a red flannel jacket. The United States Championship is resting on his broad shoulder. A huge, shit eating grin (not that he would call it that: Stu eschews coarse language) adorns his flushed face.*
"Any more grievances to share with us, Steeltoe Joe?" he asks facetiously, "Any more anonymous complaints to direct towards me? No? Well, luckily I have the one you didn't read tonight."
Slane fishes a crumpled up piece of paper from his jacket pocket and unfolds it. After archly clearing his throat, he recites its contents:
"It's so unfair having to wrestle Scoutmaster Stuart Slane! He's too gosh darned good. Why has The Lord foresaken me so?"
He folds up the paper and sticks it inside his coat.
"Well, 'anonymous', I can see your point. Yes, it is unfair having to wrestle me, especially when MY championship is on the line. I've never lost a title defense and don't plan to start with the likes of you... whoever you are. As for why God has abandoned you, far be it from me to speak for our Creator, but I suspect it is because you are a bad person and a worse wrestler. Even the Almighty's sense of charity has its limits, after all."
Stu's fingers reach up and he gives the plate on his title belt a rub, "My advice to you, 'anonymous': say fifty "Hail Marys" and look somewhere else for championship gold. This one is spoken for, by a real, righteous, Right American."
"Any more grievances to share with us, Steeltoe Joe?" he asks facetiously, "Any more anonymous complaints to direct towards me? No? Well, luckily I have the one you didn't read tonight."
Slane fishes a crumpled up piece of paper from his jacket pocket and unfolds it. After archly clearing his throat, he recites its contents:
"It's so unfair having to wrestle Scoutmaster Stuart Slane! He's too gosh darned good. Why has The Lord foresaken me so?"
He folds up the paper and sticks it inside his coat.
"Well, 'anonymous', I can see your point. Yes, it is unfair having to wrestle me, especially when MY championship is on the line. I've never lost a title defense and don't plan to start with the likes of you... whoever you are. As for why God has abandoned you, far be it from me to speak for our Creator, but I suspect it is because you are a bad person and a worse wrestler. Even the Almighty's sense of charity has its limits, after all."
Stu's fingers reach up and he gives the plate on his title belt a rub, "My advice to you, 'anonymous': say fifty "Hail Marys" and look somewhere else for championship gold. This one is spoken for, by a real, righteous, Right American."
