I’m hardcore, look at my paycheck!
Star Date: Yesterday
As I was depositing my first puny BOB check that I received in the mail, somebody recognized me. It was some chick who had put a restraining order on me about a year ago. Small world. Now she’s a bank teller. Figures THAT’s how somebody would recognize me…
So Pigeon is back in BOB. All his legions of fans can rejoice. I have come to achieve my destiny in BOB. And that doesn’t mean I want some little dinky hardcore title or some belt with a bunch of gadgets sticking out of it, or even the bane of the wrestling world, the tag team titles. No, I want the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS. Does that mean I’ll have to go through the multiple layers of hell known as BOB? Sadly, yes. I’ll have to go through jabroneys like Kevin The Pyromaniac, douja, Sir Zeno, Atomo and all the other pieces of inferior garbage that inhabit this hellhole.
So if it is written by the bookers, so it shall come to pass.
What about me?
What about Pigeon?
[We see Kevin the Pyromaniac sat in front of a very small, black and white television where Pigeon's promotional video has just come to an end. Kevin lifts up a can of gasoline and pours it's contents over said TV set.]
Kevin: The fuck? Who the fuck is Pigeon?
[He throws a few coins into a nearby swear jar.]
Kevin: You come here running your mouth and calling me a jabroney, thinking you’re better than me just because you get paychecks. I am Kevin the Pyromaniac! I am the most hardcore wrestler this sorry federation has seen in months! I have beaten the likes of… well, I beat Little Good at that last PPV. But that’s gotta count for something, right?
[Kevin takes a box of matches and lights one of them, pointing the burning end at the camera as he speaks.]
Kevin: You say you want the OWTTM, what about me? What about Kevin? Don’t I deserve a shot first?
[Kevin looks to a guy off-screen who is shaking his head.]
Kevin: Shut the fuck up! I am hardcore, dammit!
[Kevin drops the lit match onto the TV covered in gas and makes away with the contents of the swear jar. We fade out as the flames rise.]
yo, you don’t want none of dis, bitch! remember when randy johnson’s cracka ass hit that pigeon with dat’ fastball? it will be like dat, bitch…