Post by Doc Henry on Jul 9, 2011 18:28:28 GMT -5
As the camera fades in, we are treated to a bumper view of a car pulling onto an interstate, I-85 to be exact. The shot changes to an overpass, and we see a 2010 Bugatti Veyron Super Sport speed past underneath. As the shot changes to a camera sitting on the dashboard of the car, we see a very nervous Hank Brown strapped in the passenger seat. Doc smiles, "Ya really need to lighten up Henry, life is so fun. Take this car for example, 1200 HP, a top speed of about 267 MPH, and we're only going half that at the moment. Not only that, but this baby definitely has a kick ass sound system, all for a low price tag of $2.7 million. Tell me Hank, when was the last time you did a buck thirty?"
Hanks pale face just stared out the windshield, "I... I've... ne... never done... m... more... than 70..."
Doc smiled and the engine reved as he sped up, "Well, then it's your lucky day, we'll triple that and hit 210. You better have some depends on, your sitting on the finest Italian leather."
Hank nods his head, and seems to relax as Doc effortlessly winds through traffic. "Doc, why would you spend almost $3 million dollars on a car? I mean that's a huge amount of money."
Doc shrugs, "It's quite simple, because I can. People know that I am a very wealthy man, but this car was a drop in the bucket, I paid cash for it. Trust me, if you ever have the chance to pay cash for a new car, don't hesitate man, the feeling is great. Especially if it's as cherry as this, that was some service the dealer provided. You don't need to worry either Hank, my net worth is just fine, I'll never miss the money I spent. Hell if'n I wanted to, I could very well afford to by all the assets and rights to WCF, burn it all, and never miss the money, but that wouldn't be my style, no I'd sell it all for a profit."
Hank nods, and fiddles with his briefcase, pulling out a notepad and a pencil. "This week on Slam, your booked in a four way match for a slot in the Ultimate Showdown, the losers bracket against Roy Speede, Mr. FPV, and Steve Thunder. Any thoughts?"
Doc simply floored the car, speeding up to top speed, and the light faded as if a cloud of darkness settled on the area. "Hank, this is hardly a loser's bracket, as there is a combined 12 championships between all involved. This should be called the second chance bracket. All CD did naming it that was to piss me off, and when I get pissed, people bleed and get hurt..." To accentuate this point, Doc's driving while still under control has an air of recklessness to it. Well as much as driving 250MPH carries anyhow. "Hank, anyone who had earned a title, cannot be called a loser."
"So, what about your opp...
"Jesus fucking Christ Hank, shut up and let him talk..." Mary sat up, and leaned between the seats from the back.
"Steve Thunder is a former US Champion, and currently the only man in this match without a title belt around his waist. Steve was doing so well, then he fell off the scene and into obscurity. Now this jackoff thinks he can just stroll back into the WCF and take my spot in the Ultimate Showdown match. This is not going to happen. Steve, you don't hold a candle my friend. You might as well not show up, and go home this Monday and take it up the ass from your lover."
Doc slowed up just a bit as he weaver through a clog of vehicles, "Mr. FPV... Mr. Fucking Punkass Vagina... What a load of shit he was spewing. Yeah, ok I'll admit, he's been mildly impressive, but his only success in the title picture was with the help of Roy Speede. Mr. FPV is nothing but a fucking hypocrite. The little pussy whines and bitches about 'southern stereotypes', and the little dickless wonder is from Atlanta. Ya knew what, Mr. FPV can keep running his little mouth all be wants. He thinks that he has had a bad day, well I got news for him, that's nothing compared to what he'll go through Monday. Especially after I leave with a spot in the Ultimate Showdown match, then go celebrate by starting a fire in his momma's pretty little panties, and then fucking his lover up the ass before flat out bricking in her mouth.
As for Roy Speede, well, I see him as my only real competition in this match, but that ain't saying much. Roy has been bragging about the fluke win he had over me in the WCF Classic. Roy, lets face facts, I had been in a demoralizing rut, and had yet to unleash the evil within. You couldn't even beat Logan in a singles match. He had you outclassed and out matched in every way. Now, I know, I am 0-2 in one on one matches with Logan, but here's the kicker... Logan had to rely on outside help to knock my ass out to win both times. I am better than him, and better than Speede."
Mary slide down between the seats, and into Doc's lap, her lower body still in the back of the car. Hank's eyes widen and a look of jealousy comes across his face as he watches Mary. Doc just looks at Hank and smiles. "Hank last week I held back, I went into the match expecting an easy win. I underestimated Kaylyn, and because of that I didn't go there. I didn't go to that dark place in my soul, that place where the bravest men shit themselves in fear. This time I will, this time the evil in me, my whole fiber and being as the lord of fucking darkness himself will bathe in the blood of my opponents.
This type of match favors me, the Southern Rogue, the man who doesn't need to rely on others to succeed. I excel with multiple opponents, and every time I come out on top. No one man in this company has had multiple opponents team up to eliminate him first than me. The plus side is, there is one referee, and four men going at it in the ring. The ref can't watch all of us at all times, and that is where I'll do my damage. It only takes a fraction of a second to injure someone, and I am very capable of injuring all three of them. Not only that, but I look forward to it.
Speede, FPV is no tag partner, he doesn't have your back, no, I can read it on his soul. That man wants this spot in the Ultimate Showdown match. Trust me, neither one of you are going to get it, I WILL!
I Have clawed for two years to reach a World Championship match. I debuted in the WCF on the Slam before Ultimate Showdown PPV two years ago. Don't think for one second that I'm gonna let three bitch punks stop me from reaching my goal, and that is to walk out the World Champion. Monday night on Slam, the Devil will ride once more. There will be no reservation, or holding back. I'll be handing out ass whippings and bubble gum, and I'm all out of bubble gum. You see, destruction and pain will be handed out to all involved as I make my stand, take my moment and step into that ring to claim what is MINE, a shot at the World Championship. This is the year of Doc, and I'm not taking any prisoners, I'm out for blood..."
The camera angle switches to a view from the back window, where we see Mary still administering Doc, and we get a good shot up her skirt and see a wet spot in the crotch of her panties before we are jerked backwards out of the car and into the sky as the black Bugatti speeds off into the distance...
Hanks pale face just stared out the windshield, "I... I've... ne... never done... m... more... than 70..."
Doc smiled and the engine reved as he sped up, "Well, then it's your lucky day, we'll triple that and hit 210. You better have some depends on, your sitting on the finest Italian leather."
Hank nods his head, and seems to relax as Doc effortlessly winds through traffic. "Doc, why would you spend almost $3 million dollars on a car? I mean that's a huge amount of money."
Doc shrugs, "It's quite simple, because I can. People know that I am a very wealthy man, but this car was a drop in the bucket, I paid cash for it. Trust me, if you ever have the chance to pay cash for a new car, don't hesitate man, the feeling is great. Especially if it's as cherry as this, that was some service the dealer provided. You don't need to worry either Hank, my net worth is just fine, I'll never miss the money I spent. Hell if'n I wanted to, I could very well afford to by all the assets and rights to WCF, burn it all, and never miss the money, but that wouldn't be my style, no I'd sell it all for a profit."
Hank nods, and fiddles with his briefcase, pulling out a notepad and a pencil. "This week on Slam, your booked in a four way match for a slot in the Ultimate Showdown, the losers bracket against Roy Speede, Mr. FPV, and Steve Thunder. Any thoughts?"
Doc simply floored the car, speeding up to top speed, and the light faded as if a cloud of darkness settled on the area. "Hank, this is hardly a loser's bracket, as there is a combined 12 championships between all involved. This should be called the second chance bracket. All CD did naming it that was to piss me off, and when I get pissed, people bleed and get hurt..." To accentuate this point, Doc's driving while still under control has an air of recklessness to it. Well as much as driving 250MPH carries anyhow. "Hank, anyone who had earned a title, cannot be called a loser."
"So, what about your opp...
"Jesus fucking Christ Hank, shut up and let him talk..." Mary sat up, and leaned between the seats from the back.
"Steve Thunder is a former US Champion, and currently the only man in this match without a title belt around his waist. Steve was doing so well, then he fell off the scene and into obscurity. Now this jackoff thinks he can just stroll back into the WCF and take my spot in the Ultimate Showdown match. This is not going to happen. Steve, you don't hold a candle my friend. You might as well not show up, and go home this Monday and take it up the ass from your lover."
Doc slowed up just a bit as he weaver through a clog of vehicles, "Mr. FPV... Mr. Fucking Punkass Vagina... What a load of shit he was spewing. Yeah, ok I'll admit, he's been mildly impressive, but his only success in the title picture was with the help of Roy Speede. Mr. FPV is nothing but a fucking hypocrite. The little pussy whines and bitches about 'southern stereotypes', and the little dickless wonder is from Atlanta. Ya knew what, Mr. FPV can keep running his little mouth all be wants. He thinks that he has had a bad day, well I got news for him, that's nothing compared to what he'll go through Monday. Especially after I leave with a spot in the Ultimate Showdown match, then go celebrate by starting a fire in his momma's pretty little panties, and then fucking his lover up the ass before flat out bricking in her mouth.
As for Roy Speede, well, I see him as my only real competition in this match, but that ain't saying much. Roy has been bragging about the fluke win he had over me in the WCF Classic. Roy, lets face facts, I had been in a demoralizing rut, and had yet to unleash the evil within. You couldn't even beat Logan in a singles match. He had you outclassed and out matched in every way. Now, I know, I am 0-2 in one on one matches with Logan, but here's the kicker... Logan had to rely on outside help to knock my ass out to win both times. I am better than him, and better than Speede."
Mary slide down between the seats, and into Doc's lap, her lower body still in the back of the car. Hank's eyes widen and a look of jealousy comes across his face as he watches Mary. Doc just looks at Hank and smiles. "Hank last week I held back, I went into the match expecting an easy win. I underestimated Kaylyn, and because of that I didn't go there. I didn't go to that dark place in my soul, that place where the bravest men shit themselves in fear. This time I will, this time the evil in me, my whole fiber and being as the lord of fucking darkness himself will bathe in the blood of my opponents.
This type of match favors me, the Southern Rogue, the man who doesn't need to rely on others to succeed. I excel with multiple opponents, and every time I come out on top. No one man in this company has had multiple opponents team up to eliminate him first than me. The plus side is, there is one referee, and four men going at it in the ring. The ref can't watch all of us at all times, and that is where I'll do my damage. It only takes a fraction of a second to injure someone, and I am very capable of injuring all three of them. Not only that, but I look forward to it.
Speede, FPV is no tag partner, he doesn't have your back, no, I can read it on his soul. That man wants this spot in the Ultimate Showdown match. Trust me, neither one of you are going to get it, I WILL!
I Have clawed for two years to reach a World Championship match. I debuted in the WCF on the Slam before Ultimate Showdown PPV two years ago. Don't think for one second that I'm gonna let three bitch punks stop me from reaching my goal, and that is to walk out the World Champion. Monday night on Slam, the Devil will ride once more. There will be no reservation, or holding back. I'll be handing out ass whippings and bubble gum, and I'm all out of bubble gum. You see, destruction and pain will be handed out to all involved as I make my stand, take my moment and step into that ring to claim what is MINE, a shot at the World Championship. This is the year of Doc, and I'm not taking any prisoners, I'm out for blood..."
The camera angle switches to a view from the back window, where we see Mary still administering Doc, and we get a good shot up her skirt and see a wet spot in the crotch of her panties before we are jerked backwards out of the car and into the sky as the black Bugatti speeds off into the distance...
