Post by suicideking on Sept 16, 2006 16:16:08 GMT -5
Oh Biggzy, I love it when we can talk back and forth like this...you are like talking to a parrot, I say something, and you repeat it back, like it was new or interesting...
And with that, we open to 1/2 of the infamous Sick Individuals, Chad Allen, The Suicide King. He sits quietly in on the hood of a black Dodge Magnum, with vanity plates that say "SCDKNG". He is in the parking lot of the WCF Arena, and his gear bag sits on the ground in front of his car. He wears black jeans, a black trench coat, and the infamous KILL YOURSELF T-shirt. (www.cafepress.com/jesterwear) He chuckles a bit as he continues...)
Or better yet, you are using the Pee Wee Herman defense of "I know you are but what am I?" Quite honestly Biggs, it just sounds stupid.
Honey isn't a slut with diseases, you are...
I don't suck, you do...
I shouldn't kill myself, you should...
Good comebacks there, dumbass. Why don't you play the "I'm rubber and you are glue" defense on me now?
Chad jumps off the hood of his car and pushes his sunglasses down onto his nose a bit, so we can see his eyes.
Simple and blunt, Biggzy. I really don't give a rats ass if you are or are not sleeping with Honey. I don't care that much about your head injury, and I don't care that much about who you see in the freaking gym. I don't care about your previous belts or who you are teamed with, whether it be TiT or GaY or what. I honestly only see you as as damn stepping stone to bigger and better things. Others might be amazed by the resume, the net geeks on the message boards may not think I have a chance in hell of beating you, but I am in the business of proving people wrong. And I don't need a fancy comeback or the friggin Chewbacca Defense to prove it. I just need a little time, a little effort, and the chance to put you out to move me up the ladder. So Biggzy, I will see you in the ring tomorrow. Bring you, Honey, the TiT, and your legacy to ringside for a front row seat for your impending demise.
Chad pushes his sunglasses back up onto his face, picks up his bags, and sets the alarm on his car as he walks into the arena with a chuckle. The last image we see are of the New York plates with "SCDKNG" on them as we fade to black....
And with that, we open to 1/2 of the infamous Sick Individuals, Chad Allen, The Suicide King. He sits quietly in on the hood of a black Dodge Magnum, with vanity plates that say "SCDKNG". He is in the parking lot of the WCF Arena, and his gear bag sits on the ground in front of his car. He wears black jeans, a black trench coat, and the infamous KILL YOURSELF T-shirt. (www.cafepress.com/jesterwear) He chuckles a bit as he continues...)
Or better yet, you are using the Pee Wee Herman defense of "I know you are but what am I?" Quite honestly Biggs, it just sounds stupid.
Honey isn't a slut with diseases, you are...
I don't suck, you do...
I shouldn't kill myself, you should...
Good comebacks there, dumbass. Why don't you play the "I'm rubber and you are glue" defense on me now?
Chad jumps off the hood of his car and pushes his sunglasses down onto his nose a bit, so we can see his eyes.
Simple and blunt, Biggzy. I really don't give a rats ass if you are or are not sleeping with Honey. I don't care that much about your head injury, and I don't care that much about who you see in the freaking gym. I don't care about your previous belts or who you are teamed with, whether it be TiT or GaY or what. I honestly only see you as as damn stepping stone to bigger and better things. Others might be amazed by the resume, the net geeks on the message boards may not think I have a chance in hell of beating you, but I am in the business of proving people wrong. And I don't need a fancy comeback or the friggin Chewbacca Defense to prove it. I just need a little time, a little effort, and the chance to put you out to move me up the ladder. So Biggzy, I will see you in the ring tomorrow. Bring you, Honey, the TiT, and your legacy to ringside for a front row seat for your impending demise.
Chad pushes his sunglasses back up onto his face, picks up his bags, and sets the alarm on his car as he walks into the arena with a chuckle. The last image we see are of the New York plates with "SCDKNG" on them as we fade to black....
