Post by logan on Apr 1, 2009 5:29:47 GMT -5
Logan: Fat fuck?
Prancing back and fourth inside the waiting room of Loganvision Inc. A real network company that has a deal with WCF programming, a network company that either agreed or was bribed to be named Loganvision for Logan's personal promo time on television. The fat bellied star tries to hold his patience, prancing about in the room, waiting for the head of programming to meet him in some fancy room. Even away from the presence of wrestling the United States championship is with him, slung over his right shoulder, his hand tightly gripped over it. Someone finally comes into the waiting room to meet an anxious Logan.
Bobby Cheesewiz: Logan! Mr. Pretzel is waiting for you.
The network employee greets Logan, smiling. Logan attempts to walk past him but stops midway through, looks him up and down, an unsettling stare coming from the US champ.
Logan: Thanks, Bobby Cheesewiz.
Nodding, the employee shows Logan to the big CEO room of Loganvision. Taking no time, Logan storms in, the big cheese, Mr. Pretzel, exhaustingly sits in his office chair noticing Logan. He must've just finished a big meeting judging by how fatigued he appears.
Mr. Pretzel: Hey.. what can I do for you?
Still keeping the United States belt pressed to his shoulder, Logan nods, taking a seat in front of Pretzel's desk.
Mr. Pretzel: Nice belt.
Logan: Right. I'm asking that you ban Apollo Griffin from all WCF programming, from Loganvision itself.
Mr. Pretzel: The astronaut?
Logan: Space shuttle.
Mr. Pretzel: Oh..
Logan: No! Apollo Griffin, the fake musician whose a fake wrestler. Did you hear what he said on Loganvision? Kids watch this stuff. He can't say that!
Mr. Pretzel: You're right. If I couldn't let your encounter with Brad Kane's wife go on the air then..
Logan: My encounter? What?
Mr. Pretzel: See? It's like it never even happened, just disappeared.
Logan: And that's why your the man in charge of Slam, PPV's, and most importantly.. Loganvision. This can't be allowed, you must do something. Know how many people he hurt? Know how many overweight fans that stuff their faces with hotdog's and increase the daily chance of heart attack or stroke that he hurt because of what was said? Loyal fans, that buy my DVD's, that's who he hurt.
Mr. Pretzel: How do we get to him?
Logan: Just um..
Mr. Pretzel: Exactly, tell me how we get to a astronaut that lives in a space shuttle.. on the moon. I assume? Logan. This being sounds all too powerful to simply ban. You've stepped on the wrong toes this time. I can't help.
Simply staring at the curious Mr. Pretzel, dumb founded, Logan turns to the camera signaling to end. The Loganvision program cuts off.
Prancing back and fourth inside the waiting room of Loganvision Inc. A real network company that has a deal with WCF programming, a network company that either agreed or was bribed to be named Loganvision for Logan's personal promo time on television. The fat bellied star tries to hold his patience, prancing about in the room, waiting for the head of programming to meet him in some fancy room. Even away from the presence of wrestling the United States championship is with him, slung over his right shoulder, his hand tightly gripped over it. Someone finally comes into the waiting room to meet an anxious Logan.
Bobby Cheesewiz: Logan! Mr. Pretzel is waiting for you.
The network employee greets Logan, smiling. Logan attempts to walk past him but stops midway through, looks him up and down, an unsettling stare coming from the US champ.
Logan: Thanks, Bobby Cheesewiz.
Nodding, the employee shows Logan to the big CEO room of Loganvision. Taking no time, Logan storms in, the big cheese, Mr. Pretzel, exhaustingly sits in his office chair noticing Logan. He must've just finished a big meeting judging by how fatigued he appears.
Mr. Pretzel: Hey.. what can I do for you?
Still keeping the United States belt pressed to his shoulder, Logan nods, taking a seat in front of Pretzel's desk.
Mr. Pretzel: Nice belt.
Logan: Right. I'm asking that you ban Apollo Griffin from all WCF programming, from Loganvision itself.
Mr. Pretzel: The astronaut?
Logan: Space shuttle.
Mr. Pretzel: Oh..
Logan: No! Apollo Griffin, the fake musician whose a fake wrestler. Did you hear what he said on Loganvision? Kids watch this stuff. He can't say that!
Mr. Pretzel: You're right. If I couldn't let your encounter with Brad Kane's wife go on the air then..
Logan: My encounter? What?
Mr. Pretzel: See? It's like it never even happened, just disappeared.
Logan: And that's why your the man in charge of Slam, PPV's, and most importantly.. Loganvision. This can't be allowed, you must do something. Know how many people he hurt? Know how many overweight fans that stuff their faces with hotdog's and increase the daily chance of heart attack or stroke that he hurt because of what was said? Loyal fans, that buy my DVD's, that's who he hurt.
Mr. Pretzel: How do we get to him?
Logan: Just um..
Mr. Pretzel: Exactly, tell me how we get to a astronaut that lives in a space shuttle.. on the moon. I assume? Logan. This being sounds all too powerful to simply ban. You've stepped on the wrong toes this time. I can't help.
Simply staring at the curious Mr. Pretzel, dumb founded, Logan turns to the camera signaling to end. The Loganvision program cuts off.
