Kick The Baby!
On screen, on Trey Vincent’s newly bought first season of “South Park,” we hear familiar voices. “Kick the baby!” Then, a different voice says “Don’t kick the baby.” The baby is then kicked through the bus windows.
“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA,” Vincent bellows out laughter.
Vincent lights up a cigar. As we zoom back from the TV screen, we see the back of Vincent’s head and then a cloud of smoke.
“Ah, that’s good. Hardcore JJ is gonna be the baby that I’m gonna kick through something. Probably not a bus window since I doubt there’ll be a bus there. But yeah.” A deep inhale was followed by another cloud of smoke. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he said quite content.
Vincent turned around.
“Old school promo time. You see, unlike real feds like PIW, where I don’t have to make stupid promos about matches, this is BOB. This is my hell for all my successes I guess. But fine. At some point, hopefully this year, Trey Vincent will sports entertain Hardcore JJ at BOB’s Pay-Per-View. That little summabitch doesn’t stand a CHANCE against the Sports Entertainment Icon, Trey Vincent.”
Vincent put the cigar in his mouth and stood up as the episode continued to play on his television screen. Vincent stretched and headed toward the bedroom.
“Need proof? Fine. Hey, um, YOU,” he said to the woman in his bed. “Damn, my memory sucks.
“Excuse me?” asked the woman who Trey knows wants to be a softcore porn star, but for the life of him, he can’t remember what her name is. To draw a parallel, it’s like her name is on a Web site in a part of his mind that he just can’t access for some reason. Likely because he doesn’t want to log on since dial-up is sooooo slow. And then open up Internet Explorer and then type in the address and then search thru said site for the one little piece of info he needs when it’s really such a small part of this promo anyway. “You don’t remember my name?”
“Um. Not at the moment.”
“Man, those drugs VossMan gave you WERE good, huh? No wonder why he’s the virtual drug kingpin.”
Vincent laughed nervously and looked at the camera. “She kids, she kids.” *Ahem* “Anyway, instead of YOU telling me your name, how about you just bring that little doll out here.”
“OK,” she said rolling her eyes. For your reading and imagining pleasure, this chick has long black hair with streaks of blonde, red and purple. She looks like one of those chicks from that show “Scrubs.” And she’s got a really big rack. Today, she is dressed in a tight black T-shirt, stone-gray hooded sweater and red pants. She’s carrying a Stone Cold Steve Austin brawling buddies dealie thingee.
She handed Vincent the toy. Vincent smiled, grabbed her and kissed her. Eventually working it so he slowly bent her backward and kissed her all the way to the ground. Once satisfied, he unlocked their lips and she looked up at him all lovey-dovey, and put her hands over her chest.
“Now, I know there are issues I have yet to address. Mainly Sarah costing me the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS by trying to seduce the Franchise Player through song during my match with Kurt Angel. Fine. I have a weakness for hot chicks with a good set of lungs. I cannot tell a lie. But I will SNATCH that title back by taking care of business with a little three-year-old poop stain named Hardcore JJ.
“And YES, it’s true. Incurable apathy has finally destroyed the Rant Zone. But hell, this is for a title, so I HAVE to show up here. Trey Vincent may be dumb, but he ain’t an idiot. And if somehow Trey Vincent loses to that little accident JJ, well, then this federation makes absolutely NO sense at all.”
He cocked an eyebrow a second. As if in thought. Then, Vincent reached down and picked up the little SCSA doll. “Now. This is about how tall Hardcore JJ is. And this is the gimmick that toothless jackass wants to emulate. So here’s what we’re gonna do JJ. This IS you as far as I’m concerned.”
Vincent opened the glass door that took him out to a little, um, outside area. He is in a penthouse, what the hell do you call those things? Not a fire escape. It’s like
“Shut up you annoying narrator. Quit making TV look like a jackass. Now.” Vincent sat the little toy on the stone ledge.
MeeeeeeeeeeOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWW!
THUD!
Spinning around, Vincent looked at the wall to find a golden cat. Amazingly, the cat rolled onto its feet, stood up and walked into Vincent’s penthouse. Inside, he walked up to the wannabe softcore porn queen who was on the floor, smoking. The cat got on her chest, swatted the cigarette from her mouth and stuck into into its mouth!
The cat took a long drag. He pulled the cigarette out of its mouth and blew the smoke in the woman’s face. She coughed and hacked. The cat dropped the cigarette on the floor, stepped on it with a paw and headed toward the front door. The sound of the door opening and closing was heard.
After that surreal moment, Vincent looked up and across the street at his neighbor.
“HAVE TO AIM BETTER THAN THAT SCRUB!!!! YOU NEED TO AIM YOUR PUSSIES BETTER!!!!”
The man on the roof of the building across the street shook his fist at Vincent.
“BWAHAHAHAHAHA,” Vincent said flipping off the man who had CAT-apulted the kitty at Vincent, an attempt at payback for an earlier incident that is best not gone into here. Let’s just say a pussy got quite familiar with that man’s crotch.
“Now.” Vincent held the brawling buddy thing as if he were about to punt a football. “KICK THE BABY!”
After dropping the stuffed toy, he wound up and kicked that little summabitch about 20 feet in the air…OK, 10.but he SHANKED it! And on the way down, it was headed for the street below.
With a smile, Vincent leaned over the ledge and watched as the stuffed Stone Cold headed to the street below. Luckily there were no cars coming.
Well, at least there weren’t when I thought that.
Suddenly a black Oldsmobile and a yellow taxi cab were coming at each other from opposite directions. The Olds on Trey’s side of the street, the cab coming the other way.
THUD!
SCREECH!
CRUNCH!
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!
“This can’t be good,” Vincent sighed. “Oh well. Anyway. Hardcore JJ, I’m gonna punt you like a football and KICK YOU LIKE THE BABY YOU ARE! This is a MAN’S sport. This is not ONLY a man’s sport, but an ADULT’S sport. Trey Vincent will not allow a little toothless jackass to make a mockery of this business in which Trey Vincent is the brightest star. THE ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS is coming back where it belongs.
“The place where ratings follow. The most entertaining man on the planet. The most entertaining there is, was, or ever will be. The excellence of entertainment. What are you gonna do when my EGO-mania drips all over you? And speaking of dripping”
The woman sat up as Vincent came back into the penthouse.
“We’ve got business to attend to”