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Hey Nick, come down here!

January 20th, 2008

The Great

(Several hours later, or the time it took to get a moment to do this again, Nick comes down stairs and joins his Dad. (As requested at the end of The Great’s dialogue the other day.))

“The Great”: Well it’s about time! The Great only purchased a two story house, what took so long?

Nick: I had to see the end of Drake and Josh!

“The Great”: The Great really hates that show. Does that one kid still have the lisp?

Nick: Huh?

“The Great”: Never mind. Listen, it’s crunch time. New Horizon is almost here. Ummm—- maybe? Who knows? But it’s close. The Great is not taking any chances. The Great needs one more “putting an ass every 18 inches” promo to prove The Great can run with the title. However, Rent a Rant sucks a fat one and The Great needs your assistance. What are the kids saying these days to trash talk someone? This promo has got to be hip and current.

Nick: Well.

“The Great”: No! The Great needs you to write it down on a sheet of paper and then give the paper to The Great. The Great will then proceed to read your baby fresh, morning dew, new car smelling trash talk for the final push to defeat Death. Hurry, The Great can no longer procrastinate.

Nick: It’s going to take some time.

“The Great”: Fine, The Great will lift weight.

(Minutes later, The Great is wearing his workout gear, several empty pill bottles are laying around and he’s sweaty. Nick runs up to him, hands him a sheet a paper, and scurries away.)

Nick: I’m going to Randy’s!

“The Great”: (to himself and mumbling) Tell Randy The Great enjoys seeing his mommy plant tomatoes in that white halter. The Great would like to can her tomatoes. Or just play with her cans. Or tomatoes.

(The Great realizes he’s in serious jeopardy of a Lorena Bobbitt type situation if his wife sees this, so he quickly gets down to business. He unfolds the note from Nick and starts to read it word for word.)

“The Great”: Death, New Horizon is the Halo 3 of wrestling shows. My Dad is going to kick your butt (my Dad won’t let me say ass). Your—-

((((Editors note: hey, he’s 10, conjunctions are not on his agenda))))

—-all boney . My Dad has muscles that my mom says will make his nuts little. But he has bigger muscles than you cause you don’t have none. Because your all bones. My Dad says he doesnt care that you had three titles here he’s going to beat the doo doo out your butt. Then he’s going to buy me PS3 and some new Xbox 360 games.

(The Great crumples the letter and his shoulders dejectedly sag.)

“The Great”: So much for a screw job of New World Order proportions. That stuff from Nick should firmly cement The Great into a clean loss. The Great will not feel so bad about possibly not getting the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS after delivering that. The Great feels like Roy Munson right now. The Great had it all and threw it away. The Great has hit an all time low. Could it get any worse for The Great?

(And right on cue, perfectly executed.)

The Great’s Wife: HONEY, I’M HOME! AND I’VE BEEN SHOPPING!

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  1. January 20th, 2008 at 19:04 | #1

    ~~~Steve watches The Great’s promo~~~

    Studs: Now THIS motherfucker’s got a shot. And speaking of an ass for 18 inches, that’s not a bad idea. Daddy needs some strange pussy. Ya dig?

    ~~~Steve leaves and quickly returns wearing slacks, dress shoes (no socks), and a tight yellow shirt with the slogan “Dick won’t suck Itself” on it.~~~

    Studs: Time to hit the club.
    Later, faggots.

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