Post by Natural ICE Beckman on Aug 3, 2014 16:01:14 GMT -5
Mr. Smith: WORLD CHAMPION NATURAL ICE BECKMAN!!
(Mr. Smith, ICE Beckman’s agent, is pounding on ICE’s hotel room door.)
Mr. Smith: Where the heck is he?
(Mr. Smith pounds on the door some more.)
Mr. Smith: We have opponents...and lots of him...he better not be over dosing somewhere after his World Title Win celebration.
(Mr. Smith tries to open the door, but it is locked.)
Mr. Smith: Darn it, I should have known this was going to happen after all those late night texts I got from him last night...”I Won! No thanks to you” and “Fuck! I won! You are the agent of a World Champion” and the strangest one...”gtg, she’s here.”
(Mr. Smith smiles as a maid walks by him in the hall and waits for her to turn the corner so he can go back to knocking.)
Mr. Smith: Man, I wish could quit working this psycho...but who knows what other info besides my social security number he has on me...plus I didn’t mind that percentage of his World Champion bonus I collected.
(Mr. Smith knocks louder than ever and finally the hotel suite door flings open.)
PJ: What...do....you...want?
Mr. Smith: Um...sir..uh...
PJ: What? Say...what...already.
Mr. Smith: Um, do you know you are nude?
PJ: Well I am sorry if I am rude, but I fucking had a really drunk night.
Mr. Smith: NUDE...You are Naked!
PJ: Oh...(looks down)...OH! My wiener is exposed, whoops.
Mr. Smith: Didn’t you know that you were wearing no clothes?
PJ: I thought it was a bit chilly, but I like the breeze.
Mr. Smith: Fine, whatever, have you seen Mr. Beckman?
PJ: You mean John?
Mr. Smith: No, I mean Mr. ICE Beckman.
PJ: I didn’t know people referred to him as Mr. Beckman...I’ve heard cops call him sir, judges call him young man and my wife call him the devil reincarnated... but Mr. Beckman, that is new.
Mr. Smith: Yes, okay, so have you seen-...WHOA!
PJ: What now?
Mr. Smith: You are peeing!!!
PJ: No, I am P...J.
Mr. Smith: I am telling you that you are urinating right now!
PJ: Well I am sorry I am irritating, but that is just how God made me!
Mr. Smith: You Are Pissing on the carpet!
PJ: Oh...OHHHH...and...I am....done....wait, now I am done.
Mr. Smith: Just tell me where ICE Beckman is, please.
PJ: I think he is down at the hotel bar or with her or...Atlantis is a real underwater city, right?
Mr. Smith: No, it isn’t...now I have to go.
PJ: Why?
Mr. Smith: Where do I start? Maybe due to your smell, your nudeness...also I need to get my shoes cleaned...as long as the bottom my pants due to the spray factor.
(Mr. Smith begins to walk away, down the hotel hallway, as PJ calls out to him.)
PJ: Hey! I am done going #1; you can come back now...wait, now I have to do a #2!
(Mr. Smith doesn’t respond, only shutters as he walks onto the elevator...Down it drops, Floor 5, Floor 4, Floor 3, Floor 2...Bottom Floor...Mr. Smith gets off the elevator, shaking his leg dry as best he can. He is walking through the lobby when he sees ICE Beckman at the swanky bar named Atlantis. He stomps over towards the WCF World Champion with frustration and annoyance as companions.)
ICE: I am telling you; I pinned my team mate and my gal, plus the current world champion.
Bartender: As for the ones who mattered; are they still both with you?
ICE: More so now than ever.
Bartender: Because of that...(points to the World Title)...
ICE: I would prefer to think it’s my charming personality. But-
Mr. Smith: There you are.
ICE: Fucking shit, I was talking to someone.
Bartender: It’s okay, I have other customers to help.
Mr. Smith: Please, Mr. Beckman. I have to speak with you on business.
ICE: Nobody calls me, Mr. Beckman, not even-
Mr. Smith: Yes, not even judges, cops and PJ wife. I went over this already with you friend PJ; who by the way I just had to see Naked. Plus, he peed on me.
ICE: I told that fucking chunk to keep his god damn pants on.
(The pile of coats next to ICE at the bar rustles and speaks.)
Pile of Coats: You’re the one who challenged him to drink the entire mini bar.
Mr. Smith: Did that jacket just talk?
ICE: That is no jacket...(ICE pulls the coats away to reveal his older brother, John Beckman.)...It’s my brother, John, with a massive hangover.
John: How come I didn’t get the no hangover gene like you?
ICE: Probably the same reason you didn’t get the ability to win a World Title gene.
John: Shut it.
ICE: Besides I think the no hangover thing of mine is more a product of living my whole life in the State of Wisconsin, the place were alcoholism was maybe not invented, but at least perfected.
Mr. Smith: Please, we need to get to work.
ICE: Work, no you got that fucking wrong, the work is done, time to fucking celebrate. See, I got the World title now.
Mr. Smith: Oh contraire, my phone has been ringing off the hooks about endorsement deals and business opportunities. In fact I have booked meetings for us all day long.
ICE: Alright, fuck it, I will do them, lucky for you, you found me in a good fucking mood.
Mr. Smith: I don’t understand.
John: He means he got laid.
Mr. Smith: Yes, okay...so the meetings will be in conference room B right here at the hotel. And please don’t bring your Drunk Money Crew.
ICE: Why the fuck not?
(Just then ICE’s other annoying friend, the nerd one, comes running up.)
DEE: Hey, ICE, good news! The hotel desk clerk told me that Robert Downy Jr. once also stayed in our Suite. You know, IRONMAN! Super cool news right, remind me to steal the pillow cases he may have slept on. Oh and he also said people have been complaining about PJ, or as he referred to him as, “the big fat naked guy who keeps trying to invite other hotel guests into his room”.
Mr. Smith: That is why...and please ICE don’t be late.
(Mr. Smith shakes his head and walks away.)
DEE: He didn’t seem too excited about Ironman.
ICE: Yeah, I am sure he isn’t going to go fucking blog or tweet about it or anything.
DEE: Well I AM! And you can post it on your wrestling promo like you did a few weeks ago!!
(ICE watches DEE run off to the hotel’s free computer room.)
ICE: Don’t worry WCF, I won’t be adding that to the promo.
John: Thank God.
ICE: Since when do you fucking bother watching my WCF promos?
John: Oh, I wasn’t talking about that, I was just happy I kept my vomit down.
ICE: Well time to grab a coffee and buck up, for Dee, PJ and you will be joining me for those meetings.
John: I thought Mr. Smith didn’t want that.
ICE: And that is exactly why it will happen. I am the Fucking World Champion, it’s my world now.
John: How is that any different than the last few months?
ICE: Look at my belt it’s shinier and bigger now. Otherwise it’s about the same, now fucking hurry up.
John: Where are you going?
ICE: To pay a hotel maid a few hundred dollars to dress PJ...Is there such thing as a rent a nanny business, like a pizza delivery type service but with nannys who watch full grown men?
John: Um...prison?
ICE: Never mind, I will figure something out.
(Natural ICE Beckman finishes off his shot of whiskey and chases it with a nice foamy beer from a big tall pint as John puts his head down at the bar. ICE leaves his brother to rest at the bar and begins to head for the elevators. He rides them to the top of the hotel and is quickly into his suite. ICE goes over to the table and sits down working with some fun white powder as he speaks to himself....)
ICE: So here we go again. Steve Orbit and Jayson Price, as known as the front line of Pantheon fodder.
(Snorts a line and follows it with a drink.)
ICE: I took your title Steve. It is mine now. I own it. And come this Sunday you will have to watch me walk out to the ring with it strapped around my waist...or should I hang it over my shoulder Steve? What would give you a better view of what was once was that now is mine?
(ICE cuts himself off another line and begins to make it neat on the table.)
ICE: So Steve, how you going to handle this one? I remember a few weeks back, your talk about how I had to earn my spot. So, have I earned it? You either say yes to that question and prove to the people that you think you’re the best WCF has to offer. Or you say no and admit to the world that Steve Orbit is once again nothing but a guy trying to budge inline for another World title shot.
(ICE takes the line and begins to poor himself a shot to cannonball down.)
ICE: Then there is Jayson. I guess I am so damn light, I floated above you. And now I am up here, the King of the Mountain, holding the very thing that you dream about at night. But now those dreams are nightmares and the thing that made you wake up at night in a cold sweat is reality. What do you do when nightmares come true? You run, but Seth won’t let you and this Sunday at Slam I will once again make an example of which of us is truly the lead act and which is just playing second fiddle.
(ICE pounds down the shot of whiskey and begins to search around for a baggie of pot. He begins to make a joint as he speaks.)
ICE: I came here in the WCF just a few short months ago and look at me now, top dog in a kennel full of rabid k-9s. I told you WCF that the ICE AGE would COMETH, well now it is here and with it comes the bitter cold truth. The truth that ICE Beckman is a fucking beast, a warrior, and what he wants, he fucking gets. But I am not fat on my wins yet, no, I am still hungry, still much to prove and having this title around my waist is part of the plan, but not the whole fucking end game. For if you think I am done, I have only just fucking begun....my hate is growing and with it...my appetite.
(ICE Beckman heads to the balcony with his weed in hand as the scene zooms in on the World title on the table as the scene fades to the next...
Later, still at the hotel...In Conference Room B.
...Mr. Smith comes walking into the hotel’s conference room and looks over with displeasure to see, John Beckman, coffee in hand, PJ, luckily for the viewers at home dressed and DEE, tapping on his phone, surrounding the WCF World Champion, ICE Beckman, all sitting at a long table.)
Mr. Smith: I thought I said NOT to bring them
ICE: And that is why they are here.
Mr. Smith: But- never mind, fighting with you is just too hard.
ICE: Now you sound like Steve Orbit.
John: Can we hurry the first meeting up, my head is killing me.
PJ: Me too, after hotel security kicked me in the groin when I was nude.
John: Not that head.
Mr. Smith: Can I just bring the first group of people who wants to present a business idea to ICE alright? I mean those ladies are getting impatient!
DEE: We were in the middle of a conversation-
PJ: Did you say ladies? Shut the fuck up! Bring them in...I have singles...(checking his wallet and then his pocket)...I mean quart- dime- nickels! Who wants to earn a Nickel the fun way!
(PJ’s eyes go wide as a chorus line of women begin to dance into the room. Their high kicks expose their long legs as they perform their moves across the room. The chorus line dancer in the middle speaks for the group of sexy lady entertainers.)
Mr. Smith: May I introduce to you, the Natural ICE Beckman Dancers!
Head Dancer: With a Price of course.
ICE: Why the fuck would I want to have Price’s girls? That is like paying for crabs or herpes.
Mr. Smith: She isn’t one of-, she is a nice girl, they all are.
Head Dancer: As long as we’re paid right.
PJ: Oh...OHH!!..they are sluts...no, wait Whores. Hooker Whores!
Head Dancer: Pardon me?
John: A group of attractive women who dance in honor of you? That sounds just about right for you.
ICE: Good point...My Own Line of Natural ICE Dancers...Approved!
Head Dancer: Thank you so much. This is dream come true for us; not since that dancing dog act beat us out of America’s Got Talent have we been so happy!!
(The girls high five and celebrate a little. They run out of the room with their high energy as PJ tries to follow, Dee grabs him and yanks him back down into his chair at the table.)
ICE: Well that was fucking kinda fun; what you got next Mr. Smith?
Mr. Smith: Good, for if you liked that one, I think you will really like this on...Gentlemen-
John: And PJ.
Mr. Smith: Yes, right...let me introduce you to my brother...the Inventor of the Natural ICE Beckman Mouse Pad!!!
(A man, just a few years younger than Mr. Smith, but who looks a lot like him, comes walking into the room. He doesn’t say anything at first, just slowly pulls out a few Mouse Pads with ICE Beckman's picture on them. He places one pad in front of each member of the Drunk Money Crew sitting at the table, before calmly and purposefully taking his place in front of the table.)
Mr. Smith’s Brother: Hello.
Mr. Smith: Hello.
Mr. Smith’s Brother: Hi.
ICE: Holy Shit! Fucking move it along already.
Mr. Smith: Sorry, Mr. Beckman, let’s move it along, alright.
Mr. Smith’s Brother: Okay...so...Hello.
John: This is making my hangover worse; all I can focus is it since this presentation is so boring.
PJ: I don’t get it, I thought Mouses lived in holes in the wall. When did they all get pads of their own?
DEE: It’s not mouses, it’s mice.
PJ: I think I know what a mouse is Dee, my Foam Lake trailer is infested with them.
Mr. Smith: Please, sirs, let my brother do his presentation.
Mr. Smith’s Brother: Thank you....Hello and welcome.
ICE: Oh my God, does my drug dealer sell guns as well?
DEE: OH, ICE, don’t even joke about killing yourself.
ICE: Kill the WCF Champion? The WCF Fans would be like lost sheep. No, I was talking about shooting him.
John: Hey this picture on the mouse pad is just a sticker.
(John Beckman peels the top covering of the mouse pad off and reveals a different WCF Superstar!)
ICE: THAT IS FUCKING STEVE ORBIT! What the FUCK?!
Mr. Smith’s Brother: Um...um...he was champ...um...Hello?
Mr. Smith: Okay, I think that is the end of this presentation.
ICE: Fucking Right It Is...Natural ICE Beckman Mouse Pads...REJECTED!!
(Mr. Smith helps his boring and dull brother right out of the conference room door.)
DEE: Good choice, Mouse pads are not necessary anymore anyhow.
PJ: Yeah, they got my trailer.
Mr. Smith: I think maybe you will like this next meeting a little more.
(Mr. Smith props open the door and motions for someone to come on in. Two men come walking in, the first one if a very fat man with a big long grey beard who is wearing a pair of jeans and a Packer’s jersey. The second man is wearing a suit, is in his 30s and has very clean look.)
PJ: Hey, that’s Ralph, he is the Mayor of Foam Lake.
Ralph: Hey I’m Ralph.
ICE: I voted for Ralph, he is quite the public speaker.
Ralph: Yep.
Eddie: And, um, I am Eddie and I am Assistant to the Assistant Director of the East Rutherford Travel Tourism Association.
Mr. Smith: Mr. Beckman, these two men represent the cities of Foam Lake-
PJ: WOO, FOAM LAKE!!
Mr. Smith: Okay, yes and this gentlemen represents East Rutherford, New Jersey, home of last week’s Ultimate Showdown event. And they each are trying to become the official hometown of your Top Ten.
John: The what? The official hometown for those should be the bottom of a bottle and the butt of a joint.
ICE: Yeah, I don’t really remember writing too many of those, but I do know I write them like fucking fast, like I am on coke.
John: You were on coke.
ICE: Exactly! Alright I pick-
Mr. Smith: No, wait, Mr. Beckman, to help you choose, both have created their own top ten list of reasons why you should be them.
DEE: Oh this should be fun!
Mr. Smith: Yes, okay here we go...Mr. Mayor of Foam Lake, would you like to go first?
Mayor: Sure. #10. Booze.
ICE: There is a lot of booze in Foam Lake.
Mayor: #9. Hunting.
John: That’s true, my car has been accidentally shot several times while having to drive around that town.
ICE: I don’t know about that accidentally part; people in Foam Lake kinda think you’re a dick.
Mayor: #8. Home of Satan’s Pizza.
PJ: We have a Pizza place?
DEE: That is ICE’s dog name.
PJ: ICE has a dog?
Mayor: #7. Fishing.
John: In Foam Lake that is also known as, drinking in a boat.
ICE: I could go for some of that right fucking now.
Mayor: #6. Trapping Wildlife.
John: There sure are a lot of ways to hurt animals legally in this town.
PJ: I know, it’s making me tear up as hear this.
Mayor: #5. One road.
ICE: That does make giving directions fucking easy.
Mayor: #4. Lots of bars.
DEE: How is that different than the #10 reason, Booze?
ICE: The bar atmosphere is something to take into account.
John: Meaning Packer talk and dead animal stories.
Mayor: #3. Green Bay Packer Country.
ICE: God Bless the Green and Gold.
DEE: Amen.
PJ: Amen.
John: What is with it with the whole State of Wisconsin and that team?
Mayor: #2. The Women.
John: What? That one has to be a point for East Rutherford.
ICE: I don’t know, what they lack in looks they make up for in willingness and creativity, I mean we got us some long boring winters to fill and gotta do something indoors.
Mayor: #1. Your Hometown.
ICE: Oh, now that is a fucking good number one.
Mr. Smith: And now, your turn Eddie.
Eddie: Ok, thank you Mr. Smith. Um, hello, um...hello.
ICE: Oh fuck, he is Mr. Smith’s Brother Double.
Eddie: Um, okay, I don’t really get that reference, but let me move on. #10 The IZOD Center.
PJ: That is fun to say, IZOD. IZZZZZOOODDDDD.
Eddie: Okay, um, #9. A little bit of a strange one, but the former home of the NBA team the New Jersey Nets.
ICE: The NBA sucks and is fucking boring anyhow.
DEE: I think you’re mad just cuz the Milwaukee Bucks didn’t ask you to try out.
ICE: All I was fucking saying is they’d be lucky to have a Champion like me. Lord knows they ain’t getting one anytime soon.
Eddie: #8. We are the birthplace of College Basketball commentator, Dick Vital.
ICE: Yeah Baby!
Eddie: #7. We were home of Wrestlemania 29.
ICE: Fucking Wrestle-what?
Mr. Smith: That doesn’t, well, I mean I am not quite sure if, but, let’s move on.
Eddie: Okay, sorry, um, #6. Home of MetLife Stadium, home of the NFL teams the Jets and the Giants.
John: Don’t you mean the New York Jets and the New York Giants?
ICE: They play in your state, but their cheating on you with another state. Sorry Eddie that’s a point against.
Eddie: Oh darn, um, I was really hoping to get this to help my job and maybe get a raise so I could ask Monica to marry me and-
PJ: Oh man, this guy is fucking more boring than the other boring guy.
DEE: PJ, shhh, that is rude to say.
PJ: Don’t worry he can’t hear me, we are behind the table.
Eddie: Um, I can hear you.
ICE: Just fucking move it along Eddie, I have a fucking world championship showoff and I want to get to the arena early so I can walk around and rub my win in people’s faces.
Eddie: Okay, sorry, #5, kinda of a funny one, We are better than Old Jersey.
The Drunk Money Crew:.....
Eddie: Um, that was a joke, but okay, um, #4 You are having your fun hotel party right here, right now.
ICE: We are also having these boring meetings right here, right now.
Eddie: Oh, yeah, that’s a good point. Um, #3, we are close to...the best city in the World...NEW YORK CITY!!
John: Part of your presentation about your city is bragging about another city?
ICE: That reminds me of Jeff Purse for some reason.
Eddie: #2. We no longer have the cast of the Jersey Shore filming in our state.
PJ: What?! I loved that show, full of sluts that even I maybe coulda have gotten.
DEE: PJ, why did you keep forgetting your married and talking about sex with other women?
PJ: Oh yeah, whoops, man my bitch wife would be pissed if she was here.
ICE: Don't worry Dee, with PJ its just talk, although I don't think that is by fucking choice.
Eddie: And, um the #1 Reason you should pick East Rutherford as your official home of your Top Ten List...it’s where you become the WCF WORLD CHAMPION!! HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT ENERGY!?!
ICE: I pick Foam Lake.
Mr. Smith: Oh, that was sudden.
ICE: There you have it...Foam Lake...APPROVED!
PJ: YES!!
ICE: East Rutherford, New Jersey...REJECTED!!
John: That’s just like what Jay Z and their Russian owner did to them when they moved the Nets.
Eddie: Um, okay, well, thanks for your...time...I suppose...(sniffles)...
ICE: Oh my fucking God, get him out of here before he pulls a Dee and cries like a Bitch.
DEE: Hey! You know I don’t like that term.
ICE: Well fucking congrats, Mayor, happy I picked Foam Lake?
Mayor: Yep.
(The Mayor follows Mr. Smith, who is leading a teary eyed Eddie out of the conference room.)
ICE: That is the best politician I have ever known; keeps it nice and short.
John: Huh, you might have something there.
(Mr. Smith comes back into the room.)
Mr. Smith: Alright, sir, the next meeting is with someone I think you know and have worked with before. Now I know he is a bit strange, but I think you’re a fan.
(Mr. Smith opens the door to the conference room and in walks a strange creature, but a very well-known one.)
Catsy: Good Shit.
(Standing there is a robot, that has the skin of a dead cat stretch across it’s metal frame. The robot cat is dressed for success in a very fancy suit.)
ICE: Catsy, what are you doing here?
Catsy: Logan is off, well, Logan is off. And that has opened my calendar...some.
ICE: Good shit.
Catsy: And I have come here to offer my services, part time of course. I am a very business Cat.
ICE: What the fuck do you mean, services?
Catsy: Let me show you.
(Catsy turns towards Mr. Smith and slashes him across the face with his metal claws! Catsy than grabs Mr. Smith by the tie and yanks him down to the ground. Catsy then kicks ICE’s agent, making him roll out of the conference room.)
John: What the fuck was that?
Catsy: My services, as ICE's new agent.
ICE: Catsy as my new agent...no more boring Mr. Smith...APPROVED!!
(ICE gets up to greet Catsy as the promo comes to an end.)
Championship Responsibilities
(Mr. Smith, ICE Beckman’s agent, is pounding on ICE’s hotel room door.)
Mr. Smith: Where the heck is he?
(Mr. Smith pounds on the door some more.)
Mr. Smith: We have opponents...and lots of him...he better not be over dosing somewhere after his World Title Win celebration.
(Mr. Smith tries to open the door, but it is locked.)
Mr. Smith: Darn it, I should have known this was going to happen after all those late night texts I got from him last night...”I Won! No thanks to you” and “Fuck! I won! You are the agent of a World Champion” and the strangest one...”gtg, she’s here.”
(Mr. Smith smiles as a maid walks by him in the hall and waits for her to turn the corner so he can go back to knocking.)
Mr. Smith: Man, I wish could quit working this psycho...but who knows what other info besides my social security number he has on me...plus I didn’t mind that percentage of his World Champion bonus I collected.
(Mr. Smith knocks louder than ever and finally the hotel suite door flings open.)
PJ: What...do....you...want?
Mr. Smith: Um...sir..uh...
PJ: What? Say...what...already.
Mr. Smith: Um, do you know you are nude?
PJ: Well I am sorry if I am rude, but I fucking had a really drunk night.
Mr. Smith: NUDE...You are Naked!
PJ: Oh...(looks down)...OH! My wiener is exposed, whoops.
Mr. Smith: Didn’t you know that you were wearing no clothes?
PJ: I thought it was a bit chilly, but I like the breeze.
Mr. Smith: Fine, whatever, have you seen Mr. Beckman?
PJ: You mean John?
Mr. Smith: No, I mean Mr. ICE Beckman.
PJ: I didn’t know people referred to him as Mr. Beckman...I’ve heard cops call him sir, judges call him young man and my wife call him the devil reincarnated... but Mr. Beckman, that is new.
Mr. Smith: Yes, okay, so have you seen-...WHOA!
PJ: What now?
Mr. Smith: You are peeing!!!
PJ: No, I am P...J.
Mr. Smith: I am telling you that you are urinating right now!
PJ: Well I am sorry I am irritating, but that is just how God made me!
Mr. Smith: You Are Pissing on the carpet!
PJ: Oh...OHHHH...and...I am....done....wait, now I am done.
Mr. Smith: Just tell me where ICE Beckman is, please.
PJ: I think he is down at the hotel bar or with her or...Atlantis is a real underwater city, right?
Mr. Smith: No, it isn’t...now I have to go.
PJ: Why?
Mr. Smith: Where do I start? Maybe due to your smell, your nudeness...also I need to get my shoes cleaned...as long as the bottom my pants due to the spray factor.
(Mr. Smith begins to walk away, down the hotel hallway, as PJ calls out to him.)
PJ: Hey! I am done going #1; you can come back now...wait, now I have to do a #2!
(Mr. Smith doesn’t respond, only shutters as he walks onto the elevator...Down it drops, Floor 5, Floor 4, Floor 3, Floor 2...Bottom Floor...Mr. Smith gets off the elevator, shaking his leg dry as best he can. He is walking through the lobby when he sees ICE Beckman at the swanky bar named Atlantis. He stomps over towards the WCF World Champion with frustration and annoyance as companions.)
ICE: I am telling you; I pinned my team mate and my gal, plus the current world champion.
Bartender: As for the ones who mattered; are they still both with you?
ICE: More so now than ever.
Bartender: Because of that...(points to the World Title)...
ICE: I would prefer to think it’s my charming personality. But-
Mr. Smith: There you are.
ICE: Fucking shit, I was talking to someone.
Bartender: It’s okay, I have other customers to help.
Mr. Smith: Please, Mr. Beckman. I have to speak with you on business.
ICE: Nobody calls me, Mr. Beckman, not even-
Mr. Smith: Yes, not even judges, cops and PJ wife. I went over this already with you friend PJ; who by the way I just had to see Naked. Plus, he peed on me.
ICE: I told that fucking chunk to keep his god damn pants on.
(The pile of coats next to ICE at the bar rustles and speaks.)
Pile of Coats: You’re the one who challenged him to drink the entire mini bar.
Mr. Smith: Did that jacket just talk?
ICE: That is no jacket...(ICE pulls the coats away to reveal his older brother, John Beckman.)...It’s my brother, John, with a massive hangover.
John: How come I didn’t get the no hangover gene like you?
ICE: Probably the same reason you didn’t get the ability to win a World Title gene.
John: Shut it.
ICE: Besides I think the no hangover thing of mine is more a product of living my whole life in the State of Wisconsin, the place were alcoholism was maybe not invented, but at least perfected.
Mr. Smith: Please, we need to get to work.
ICE: Work, no you got that fucking wrong, the work is done, time to fucking celebrate. See, I got the World title now.
Mr. Smith: Oh contraire, my phone has been ringing off the hooks about endorsement deals and business opportunities. In fact I have booked meetings for us all day long.
ICE: Alright, fuck it, I will do them, lucky for you, you found me in a good fucking mood.
Mr. Smith: I don’t understand.
John: He means he got laid.
Mr. Smith: Yes, okay...so the meetings will be in conference room B right here at the hotel. And please don’t bring your Drunk Money Crew.
ICE: Why the fuck not?
(Just then ICE’s other annoying friend, the nerd one, comes running up.)
DEE: Hey, ICE, good news! The hotel desk clerk told me that Robert Downy Jr. once also stayed in our Suite. You know, IRONMAN! Super cool news right, remind me to steal the pillow cases he may have slept on. Oh and he also said people have been complaining about PJ, or as he referred to him as, “the big fat naked guy who keeps trying to invite other hotel guests into his room”.
Mr. Smith: That is why...and please ICE don’t be late.
(Mr. Smith shakes his head and walks away.)
DEE: He didn’t seem too excited about Ironman.
ICE: Yeah, I am sure he isn’t going to go fucking blog or tweet about it or anything.
DEE: Well I AM! And you can post it on your wrestling promo like you did a few weeks ago!!
(ICE watches DEE run off to the hotel’s free computer room.)
ICE: Don’t worry WCF, I won’t be adding that to the promo.
John: Thank God.
ICE: Since when do you fucking bother watching my WCF promos?
John: Oh, I wasn’t talking about that, I was just happy I kept my vomit down.
ICE: Well time to grab a coffee and buck up, for Dee, PJ and you will be joining me for those meetings.
John: I thought Mr. Smith didn’t want that.
ICE: And that is exactly why it will happen. I am the Fucking World Champion, it’s my world now.
John: How is that any different than the last few months?
ICE: Look at my belt it’s shinier and bigger now. Otherwise it’s about the same, now fucking hurry up.
John: Where are you going?
ICE: To pay a hotel maid a few hundred dollars to dress PJ...Is there such thing as a rent a nanny business, like a pizza delivery type service but with nannys who watch full grown men?
John: Um...prison?
ICE: Never mind, I will figure something out.
(Natural ICE Beckman finishes off his shot of whiskey and chases it with a nice foamy beer from a big tall pint as John puts his head down at the bar. ICE leaves his brother to rest at the bar and begins to head for the elevators. He rides them to the top of the hotel and is quickly into his suite. ICE goes over to the table and sits down working with some fun white powder as he speaks to himself....)
ICE: So here we go again. Steve Orbit and Jayson Price, as known as the front line of Pantheon fodder.
(Snorts a line and follows it with a drink.)
ICE: I took your title Steve. It is mine now. I own it. And come this Sunday you will have to watch me walk out to the ring with it strapped around my waist...or should I hang it over my shoulder Steve? What would give you a better view of what was once was that now is mine?
(ICE cuts himself off another line and begins to make it neat on the table.)
ICE: So Steve, how you going to handle this one? I remember a few weeks back, your talk about how I had to earn my spot. So, have I earned it? You either say yes to that question and prove to the people that you think you’re the best WCF has to offer. Or you say no and admit to the world that Steve Orbit is once again nothing but a guy trying to budge inline for another World title shot.
(ICE takes the line and begins to poor himself a shot to cannonball down.)
ICE: Then there is Jayson. I guess I am so damn light, I floated above you. And now I am up here, the King of the Mountain, holding the very thing that you dream about at night. But now those dreams are nightmares and the thing that made you wake up at night in a cold sweat is reality. What do you do when nightmares come true? You run, but Seth won’t let you and this Sunday at Slam I will once again make an example of which of us is truly the lead act and which is just playing second fiddle.
(ICE pounds down the shot of whiskey and begins to search around for a baggie of pot. He begins to make a joint as he speaks.)
ICE: I came here in the WCF just a few short months ago and look at me now, top dog in a kennel full of rabid k-9s. I told you WCF that the ICE AGE would COMETH, well now it is here and with it comes the bitter cold truth. The truth that ICE Beckman is a fucking beast, a warrior, and what he wants, he fucking gets. But I am not fat on my wins yet, no, I am still hungry, still much to prove and having this title around my waist is part of the plan, but not the whole fucking end game. For if you think I am done, I have only just fucking begun....my hate is growing and with it...my appetite.
(ICE Beckman heads to the balcony with his weed in hand as the scene zooms in on the World title on the table as the scene fades to the next...
Later, still at the hotel...In Conference Room B.
...Mr. Smith comes walking into the hotel’s conference room and looks over with displeasure to see, John Beckman, coffee in hand, PJ, luckily for the viewers at home dressed and DEE, tapping on his phone, surrounding the WCF World Champion, ICE Beckman, all sitting at a long table.)
Mr. Smith: I thought I said NOT to bring them
ICE: And that is why they are here.
Mr. Smith: But- never mind, fighting with you is just too hard.
ICE: Now you sound like Steve Orbit.
John: Can we hurry the first meeting up, my head is killing me.
PJ: Me too, after hotel security kicked me in the groin when I was nude.
John: Not that head.
Mr. Smith: Can I just bring the first group of people who wants to present a business idea to ICE alright? I mean those ladies are getting impatient!
DEE: We were in the middle of a conversation-
PJ: Did you say ladies? Shut the fuck up! Bring them in...I have singles...(checking his wallet and then his pocket)...I mean quart- dime- nickels! Who wants to earn a Nickel the fun way!
(PJ’s eyes go wide as a chorus line of women begin to dance into the room. Their high kicks expose their long legs as they perform their moves across the room. The chorus line dancer in the middle speaks for the group of sexy lady entertainers.)
Mr. Smith: May I introduce to you, the Natural ICE Beckman Dancers!
Head Dancer: With a Price of course.
ICE: Why the fuck would I want to have Price’s girls? That is like paying for crabs or herpes.
Mr. Smith: She isn’t one of-, she is a nice girl, they all are.
Head Dancer: As long as we’re paid right.
PJ: Oh...OHH!!..they are sluts...no, wait Whores. Hooker Whores!
Head Dancer: Pardon me?
John: A group of attractive women who dance in honor of you? That sounds just about right for you.
ICE: Good point...My Own Line of Natural ICE Dancers...Approved!
Head Dancer: Thank you so much. This is dream come true for us; not since that dancing dog act beat us out of America’s Got Talent have we been so happy!!
(The girls high five and celebrate a little. They run out of the room with their high energy as PJ tries to follow, Dee grabs him and yanks him back down into his chair at the table.)
ICE: Well that was fucking kinda fun; what you got next Mr. Smith?
Mr. Smith: Good, for if you liked that one, I think you will really like this on...Gentlemen-
John: And PJ.
Mr. Smith: Yes, right...let me introduce you to my brother...the Inventor of the Natural ICE Beckman Mouse Pad!!!
(A man, just a few years younger than Mr. Smith, but who looks a lot like him, comes walking into the room. He doesn’t say anything at first, just slowly pulls out a few Mouse Pads with ICE Beckman's picture on them. He places one pad in front of each member of the Drunk Money Crew sitting at the table, before calmly and purposefully taking his place in front of the table.)
Mr. Smith’s Brother: Hello.
Mr. Smith: Hello.
Mr. Smith’s Brother: Hi.
ICE: Holy Shit! Fucking move it along already.
Mr. Smith: Sorry, Mr. Beckman, let’s move it along, alright.
Mr. Smith’s Brother: Okay...so...Hello.
John: This is making my hangover worse; all I can focus is it since this presentation is so boring.
PJ: I don’t get it, I thought Mouses lived in holes in the wall. When did they all get pads of their own?
DEE: It’s not mouses, it’s mice.
PJ: I think I know what a mouse is Dee, my Foam Lake trailer is infested with them.
Mr. Smith: Please, sirs, let my brother do his presentation.
Mr. Smith’s Brother: Thank you....Hello and welcome.
ICE: Oh my God, does my drug dealer sell guns as well?
DEE: OH, ICE, don’t even joke about killing yourself.
ICE: Kill the WCF Champion? The WCF Fans would be like lost sheep. No, I was talking about shooting him.
John: Hey this picture on the mouse pad is just a sticker.
(John Beckman peels the top covering of the mouse pad off and reveals a different WCF Superstar!)
ICE: THAT IS FUCKING STEVE ORBIT! What the FUCK?!
Mr. Smith’s Brother: Um...um...he was champ...um...Hello?
Mr. Smith: Okay, I think that is the end of this presentation.
ICE: Fucking Right It Is...Natural ICE Beckman Mouse Pads...REJECTED!!
(Mr. Smith helps his boring and dull brother right out of the conference room door.)
DEE: Good choice, Mouse pads are not necessary anymore anyhow.
PJ: Yeah, they got my trailer.
Mr. Smith: I think maybe you will like this next meeting a little more.
(Mr. Smith props open the door and motions for someone to come on in. Two men come walking in, the first one if a very fat man with a big long grey beard who is wearing a pair of jeans and a Packer’s jersey. The second man is wearing a suit, is in his 30s and has very clean look.)
PJ: Hey, that’s Ralph, he is the Mayor of Foam Lake.
Ralph: Hey I’m Ralph.
ICE: I voted for Ralph, he is quite the public speaker.
Ralph: Yep.
Eddie: And, um, I am Eddie and I am Assistant to the Assistant Director of the East Rutherford Travel Tourism Association.
Mr. Smith: Mr. Beckman, these two men represent the cities of Foam Lake-
PJ: WOO, FOAM LAKE!!
Mr. Smith: Okay, yes and this gentlemen represents East Rutherford, New Jersey, home of last week’s Ultimate Showdown event. And they each are trying to become the official hometown of your Top Ten.
John: The what? The official hometown for those should be the bottom of a bottle and the butt of a joint.
ICE: Yeah, I don’t really remember writing too many of those, but I do know I write them like fucking fast, like I am on coke.
John: You were on coke.
ICE: Exactly! Alright I pick-
Mr. Smith: No, wait, Mr. Beckman, to help you choose, both have created their own top ten list of reasons why you should be them.
DEE: Oh this should be fun!
Mr. Smith: Yes, okay here we go...Mr. Mayor of Foam Lake, would you like to go first?
Mayor: Sure. #10. Booze.
ICE: There is a lot of booze in Foam Lake.
Mayor: #9. Hunting.
John: That’s true, my car has been accidentally shot several times while having to drive around that town.
ICE: I don’t know about that accidentally part; people in Foam Lake kinda think you’re a dick.
Mayor: #8. Home of Satan’s Pizza.
PJ: We have a Pizza place?
DEE: That is ICE’s dog name.
PJ: ICE has a dog?
Mayor: #7. Fishing.
John: In Foam Lake that is also known as, drinking in a boat.
ICE: I could go for some of that right fucking now.
Mayor: #6. Trapping Wildlife.
John: There sure are a lot of ways to hurt animals legally in this town.
PJ: I know, it’s making me tear up as hear this.
Mayor: #5. One road.
ICE: That does make giving directions fucking easy.
Mayor: #4. Lots of bars.
DEE: How is that different than the #10 reason, Booze?
ICE: The bar atmosphere is something to take into account.
John: Meaning Packer talk and dead animal stories.
Mayor: #3. Green Bay Packer Country.
ICE: God Bless the Green and Gold.
DEE: Amen.
PJ: Amen.
John: What is with it with the whole State of Wisconsin and that team?
Mayor: #2. The Women.
John: What? That one has to be a point for East Rutherford.
ICE: I don’t know, what they lack in looks they make up for in willingness and creativity, I mean we got us some long boring winters to fill and gotta do something indoors.
Mayor: #1. Your Hometown.
ICE: Oh, now that is a fucking good number one.
Mr. Smith: And now, your turn Eddie.
Eddie: Ok, thank you Mr. Smith. Um, hello, um...hello.
ICE: Oh fuck, he is Mr. Smith’s Brother Double.
Eddie: Um, okay, I don’t really get that reference, but let me move on. #10 The IZOD Center.
PJ: That is fun to say, IZOD. IZZZZZOOODDDDD.
Eddie: Okay, um, #9. A little bit of a strange one, but the former home of the NBA team the New Jersey Nets.
ICE: The NBA sucks and is fucking boring anyhow.
DEE: I think you’re mad just cuz the Milwaukee Bucks didn’t ask you to try out.
ICE: All I was fucking saying is they’d be lucky to have a Champion like me. Lord knows they ain’t getting one anytime soon.
Eddie: #8. We are the birthplace of College Basketball commentator, Dick Vital.
ICE: Yeah Baby!
Eddie: #7. We were home of Wrestlemania 29.
ICE: Fucking Wrestle-what?
Mr. Smith: That doesn’t, well, I mean I am not quite sure if, but, let’s move on.
Eddie: Okay, sorry, um, #6. Home of MetLife Stadium, home of the NFL teams the Jets and the Giants.
John: Don’t you mean the New York Jets and the New York Giants?
ICE: They play in your state, but their cheating on you with another state. Sorry Eddie that’s a point against.
Eddie: Oh darn, um, I was really hoping to get this to help my job and maybe get a raise so I could ask Monica to marry me and-
PJ: Oh man, this guy is fucking more boring than the other boring guy.
DEE: PJ, shhh, that is rude to say.
PJ: Don’t worry he can’t hear me, we are behind the table.
Eddie: Um, I can hear you.
ICE: Just fucking move it along Eddie, I have a fucking world championship showoff and I want to get to the arena early so I can walk around and rub my win in people’s faces.
Eddie: Okay, sorry, #5, kinda of a funny one, We are better than Old Jersey.
The Drunk Money Crew:.....
Eddie: Um, that was a joke, but okay, um, #4 You are having your fun hotel party right here, right now.
ICE: We are also having these boring meetings right here, right now.
Eddie: Oh, yeah, that’s a good point. Um, #3, we are close to...the best city in the World...NEW YORK CITY!!
John: Part of your presentation about your city is bragging about another city?
ICE: That reminds me of Jeff Purse for some reason.
Eddie: #2. We no longer have the cast of the Jersey Shore filming in our state.
PJ: What?! I loved that show, full of sluts that even I maybe coulda have gotten.
DEE: PJ, why did you keep forgetting your married and talking about sex with other women?
PJ: Oh yeah, whoops, man my bitch wife would be pissed if she was here.
ICE: Don't worry Dee, with PJ its just talk, although I don't think that is by fucking choice.
Eddie: And, um the #1 Reason you should pick East Rutherford as your official home of your Top Ten List...it’s where you become the WCF WORLD CHAMPION!! HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT ENERGY!?!
ICE: I pick Foam Lake.
Mr. Smith: Oh, that was sudden.
ICE: There you have it...Foam Lake...APPROVED!
PJ: YES!!
ICE: East Rutherford, New Jersey...REJECTED!!
John: That’s just like what Jay Z and their Russian owner did to them when they moved the Nets.
Eddie: Um, okay, well, thanks for your...time...I suppose...(sniffles)...
ICE: Oh my fucking God, get him out of here before he pulls a Dee and cries like a Bitch.
DEE: Hey! You know I don’t like that term.
ICE: Well fucking congrats, Mayor, happy I picked Foam Lake?
Mayor: Yep.
(The Mayor follows Mr. Smith, who is leading a teary eyed Eddie out of the conference room.)
ICE: That is the best politician I have ever known; keeps it nice and short.
John: Huh, you might have something there.
(Mr. Smith comes back into the room.)
Mr. Smith: Alright, sir, the next meeting is with someone I think you know and have worked with before. Now I know he is a bit strange, but I think you’re a fan.
(Mr. Smith opens the door to the conference room and in walks a strange creature, but a very well-known one.)
Catsy: Good Shit.
(Standing there is a robot, that has the skin of a dead cat stretch across it’s metal frame. The robot cat is dressed for success in a very fancy suit.)
ICE: Catsy, what are you doing here?
Catsy: Logan is off, well, Logan is off. And that has opened my calendar...some.
ICE: Good shit.
Catsy: And I have come here to offer my services, part time of course. I am a very business Cat.
ICE: What the fuck do you mean, services?
Catsy: Let me show you.
(Catsy turns towards Mr. Smith and slashes him across the face with his metal claws! Catsy than grabs Mr. Smith by the tie and yanks him down to the ground. Catsy then kicks ICE’s agent, making him roll out of the conference room.)
John: What the fuck was that?
Catsy: My services, as ICE's new agent.
ICE: Catsy as my new agent...no more boring Mr. Smith...APPROVED!!
(ICE gets up to greet Catsy as the promo comes to an end.)
Championship Responsibilities