Post by Danny Vice on May 25, 2007 11:36:03 GMT -5
Early Sunday morning, hours before the kickoff of yet another exciting WCF Pay Per View Extravaganza, Danny Vice sits down with the one and only Hank "The Tank" Brown to discuss the upcoming Triple Threat Hardcore Title match (among other things).
Hank Brown: Danny, give me a little insight on your feelings heading into Timebomb.
Danny Vice: You want my feelings heading into Timebomb? Have I not been clear enough throughout the week on it? Was my commercial broadcast on what I think of Creeping Death and Johnny Craven not specific and detailed enough for you? Let me put it this way. I am the Hardcore Champion. I am Danny "The Vagrant" Vice. I am the shadow. The human highlight. And the present and future of this great sport. And today, at Timebomb, my title, and my manhood, is being challenged by two men and there is no way in hell I am letting either of them tarnish my run as champion. Here's a better question for you Hank. What are Johnny Craven and Creeping Death's feelings heading into Timebomb?
Hank Brown: Well...I...I...
Danny Vice: I...I...I guess you have no fucking clue. And you know why? Neither of them has been anywhere to be found. Johnny Craven mysteriously disappears, so all we've heard from is two jerkoff managers doing a bad Starsky and Hutch routine in order to figure out what's what. And why did Craven disappear? Why is his house a mess? Because the man can't fight. He can't defend himself. Hey Watson! Hey Carter! You might want to check the little old lady nextdoor to Johnny's house. I hear she has a mean left hook. Here love of female panties is probably what drove her over to Craven's place so she could check out his extensive collection. I'm sure you'll find him tied to a chair in her basement, with one of his own thongs stuffed in his mouth as a gag. And Creeping Death? Well, you don't know how he's feeling heading into Timebomb because the guy's been an absolute apparition all week. He's disappeared. Vanished. Vamoose! He's gone. My best guess is he's sitting on Seth Lerch's bed with a box of tissue, some banana scented hand lotion, and using the self service pump at the gas station of love to Lerch's new kitty cat. So don't come to me with these foolish questions about "how I'm feeling" or "what is my prediction" for tonight's match. I will just make this very simple for you, seeing as your underqualified even for this simple job. Danny Vice wins. 1...2...3. And there's nothing you can do about it.
Vice storms off camera as Brown stands there silently and stunned. Once he begins to gain his composure, Vice walks back into view...
Danny Vice: MEOW!
Hank Brown: Danny, give me a little insight on your feelings heading into Timebomb.
Danny Vice: You want my feelings heading into Timebomb? Have I not been clear enough throughout the week on it? Was my commercial broadcast on what I think of Creeping Death and Johnny Craven not specific and detailed enough for you? Let me put it this way. I am the Hardcore Champion. I am Danny "The Vagrant" Vice. I am the shadow. The human highlight. And the present and future of this great sport. And today, at Timebomb, my title, and my manhood, is being challenged by two men and there is no way in hell I am letting either of them tarnish my run as champion. Here's a better question for you Hank. What are Johnny Craven and Creeping Death's feelings heading into Timebomb?
Hank Brown: Well...I...I...
Danny Vice: I...I...I guess you have no fucking clue. And you know why? Neither of them has been anywhere to be found. Johnny Craven mysteriously disappears, so all we've heard from is two jerkoff managers doing a bad Starsky and Hutch routine in order to figure out what's what. And why did Craven disappear? Why is his house a mess? Because the man can't fight. He can't defend himself. Hey Watson! Hey Carter! You might want to check the little old lady nextdoor to Johnny's house. I hear she has a mean left hook. Here love of female panties is probably what drove her over to Craven's place so she could check out his extensive collection. I'm sure you'll find him tied to a chair in her basement, with one of his own thongs stuffed in his mouth as a gag. And Creeping Death? Well, you don't know how he's feeling heading into Timebomb because the guy's been an absolute apparition all week. He's disappeared. Vanished. Vamoose! He's gone. My best guess is he's sitting on Seth Lerch's bed with a box of tissue, some banana scented hand lotion, and using the self service pump at the gas station of love to Lerch's new kitty cat. So don't come to me with these foolish questions about "how I'm feeling" or "what is my prediction" for tonight's match. I will just make this very simple for you, seeing as your underqualified even for this simple job. Danny Vice wins. 1...2...3. And there's nothing you can do about it.
Vice storms off camera as Brown stands there silently and stunned. Once he begins to gain his composure, Vice walks back into view...
Danny Vice: MEOW!