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Much mo’ Great

January 11th, 2008

The Great

(The Great is at home, playing Smackdown vs. Raw 2004, when his 10 year old son, Nick, joins him on the couch.)

Nick: Dad, whatcha doing?

“The Great”: The Great is training, son. Can’t you see?

Nick: You’re playing a game, how’s that training?

“The Great”: Just watch. The Great has created a Death character and given him a kneelift. Now, notice The Great character The Great has created. See how The Great character blocks the kneelift when the real The Great presses the L2 button? The Death character staggers, then The Great presses L1 after the finisher icon appears, and WHAMMO! There’s the Twist of Great! New champion!

Nick: Dad, you’re a doofus! That’s so gay!

“The Great”: The Great is not gay. But after seeing your Grandma’s wooly mammoth the other day, The Great almost converted.

Nick: Huh?

“The Great”: Never mind, kid. Your day will come when you will understand. But while it’s still fresh in The Great’s mind, The Great is jotting down cha-cha clippers for Granny’s birthday present.

Nick: What?

“The Great”: When your south mane looks like a hula skirt, it’s time to break out the trimmer.

Nick: You’re retarded, Dad! You make no sense!

”The Great”: Oh, The Great makes plenty of sense. That’s why The Great is confident The Great will defeat Death at New Horizon and become its ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS.

Nick: Whatever, you want to play Halo 3?

“The Great”: No, The Great doesn’t want to play Halo 3. The Great wants to play Smackdown vs. Raw 2004 and learn so many maneuvers that Death can’t possibly counter them all. Like this one, what do you think?

(The Great presses an exact combination of buttons)

Nick: HA! You put sexual walking in your moves? That’s REALLY gay! Why don’t you just add taunt woman victory and go all the way gay?

“The Great”: Um, that was the wrong combination. It must be a programming fault or something.

(The Great presses more buttons)

Nick: A shoulder claw?

“The Great”: It could work under the right circumstances.

Nick: Dad, let me load your moveset if you’re going to look at this to train. Your moves are dumb.

“The Great”: The match is close to a week away, Nick. The Great doesn’t have time to learn new moves.

Nick: Well, you’re shit out of luck, Dad.

“The Great”: What did you say?

Nick: You’re spit out of luck, Dad! You’re SPIT out of luck!

“The Great”: Okay, for a moment there The Great thought you cursed. But anyway, and on second thought, The Great is not sweating it. The Great is a lock to make history and win the title in The Great’s second match.

Nick: Why you say that?

“The Great”: The Great has the fans. The Great has the power. The Great has been training and taking vitamins and running and doing everything The Great needs to do to win. And The Great has the fans’ support. The Great received a letter from a Brawlers on a Budget fan just the other day, showing support.

Nick: One letter?

“The Great”: One letter? Considering Brawlers on a Budget’s total number of fans, that’s like 78% right there. The Great has overwhelming support. The Great means really, what fan in the 18 to 34 male demographic that this promotion seems to cater to, cannot get behind The Great? What guy in that category does not have a wife, or girlfriend, or mother in law, or even mother that doesn’t constantly wear on their last nerve? They can associate—- with The Great. With The Great—- they can relate.

Nick: I don’t understand.

“The Great”: Not everybody in the stands can see themselves as a boney reaper of souls, or a doctor with metal teeth, or a hockey player, or a gothic mayor, or a gay Italian, and whatever that other guy is. But they can see themselves as a guy getting constantly nagged by females. Or having their bank accounts drained to nothing. Just like The Great. They sympathize with The Great. The can feel The Great’s pain. The Great’s victory will be their victory. Because The Great will show them that no matter how downtrodden the female will make you feel, you can still overcome and be a winner.

Nick: Dad, I’m only 10 years old. I don’t understand what you’re saying.

“The Great”: One day you will, son. You’ll understand about that and also about that mysterious hair that begins appearing in places it didn’t before. And then gets neglected, like your Grandmother’s. Maybe not as extreme as your Grandmother’s— but there will come a time when this will all make sense.

Nick: Sure, Dad. Whatever! I’m going to play Halo 3!

(Nick runs off)

“The Great”: Then go. Go play your Halo 3. The Great needs to be alone and train anyway. That’s enough of Smackdown vs. Raw 2004. The Great needs to go and secretly ingest high quantities of steroids and then work out. The Great is becoming so huge that by New Horizon, Massive Man Rendition 1st is going to have to change his name to Massive “But not as massive as The Great” Man Rendition 1st.

Death, you may be the Death there is, the Death there was, and the Death that ever will be.

But The Great has sent BigBoss’ wife a pair of Prada shoes, because The Great is certain The Great’s Wife has already bought another pair by now.

The Great hoped The Great didn’t have to resort to bribery, but The Great has to do what The Great has to do.

The Great will grace you soon.

Will it be a Great day for Death, or Death for The Great? Hold on, neither one of those sounds very positive for The Great.
Son of a bitch!

(The Great throws down his PS2 controller and storms off.)

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  1. January 15th, 2008 at 15:51 | #1

    *The camera fuzzes over for a second, before there’s a loud bang as Mr. Paradox brings the flat of his sword down on it. The picture clears, and he and Dr. Thrilla are sitting in front of it, Thrilla taking swigs from a fifth of Jack Daniels. Paradox balances the edge of his sword on his fingertips.*

    Mr. Paradox: The last good wrestling game was WWF Smackdown for the Playstation. After that… all downhill from there.

    Dr. Thrilla: *Inebriated metal clanging*

    Mr. Paradox: What do you mean you don’t play wrestling games? Geez, Thrilla, what do you play?

    Dr. Thrilla: *Inebriated metal clanging*

    Mr. Paradox: Huh. Never took you for the Guitar Hero type.

    Dr. Thrilla: *metal clanging to the tune of “John the Fisherman”*

    *Mr. Paradox looks to the camera, drawing his sword’s tip along the ground.*

    Mr. Paradox: THE GREAT, huh? There’s a name that should count as assisted suicide. Trust me, when we meet, and it’ll be soon… you’ll be begging for your severed limbs back.

    *The camera then dies.*

    Mr. Paradox: Crap.

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