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More glitter

August 29th, 2008

The Great

(The Great and Pete Trable are sitting in The Great’s dinning room. They’re at the table surrounded by various trinkets to construct what looks like an elementary school project. Cardboard. Glitter. Elmer’s® glue sticks. More construction paper of different colors. Faux rubies and diamonds. And leather. )

The Great: The trick is to make Dr. Plants think he’s in a title match to WIN belts instead of lose them. Then he’ll choke. And we’ll capture the titles!

Pete: Yo, dis glue stinks. Can’t we just kick dey ass, yo?

The Great: The Great has done research. The Great knows Dr. Plants has a history of dropping the proverbial ball when titles are at stake. If you and The Great can make SMP think our titles are better and on the line—

Pete: I get you, dogg. Yo, Nick, hook a bruddah up wit some more glit.

Nick: You’re using all my glitter! MOM!

The Great: Johnny, any suggestions on how to make these championship belts more presentable? Aren’t you kindergartners doing stuff like this all the time?

Little Johnny: Please, Father. You know I’m only in kindergarten due to my age restrictions. I don’t participate in “their little projects.” I’m there because I have to be. Otherwise, you could easily bypass me to college sophomore where I could be, right now, fratting with some co-eds instead of doing this juvenile project with you Neanderthals.

The Great: That didn’t answer The Great’s question.

Little Johnny: Well then it’s simple. More glitter.

Nick: MOM!

Pete: Hey yo, ain’t we gonna get in trouble fo’ creatin’ our own titles an’ shit?

The Great: The Great doesn’t think so. This is under different circumstances. This is borne of necessity, not ego driven. Steve Studnuts will not sell our moves. Plants is the key to our success. Show him the titles, whisper to him while calling spots that they’re at stake, and watch him crumble. It’s foolproof.

Little Johnny: Simpletons. You lesser species really amuse me.

Nick: Dad? What are co-eds?

Little Johnny: What a dolt! Are you positive that he and I are from the same Breeder? I want a DNA test done.

The Great: Boys, stop that! The Great and Pete must concentrate. Formulate.

Little Johnny: Your brains, they do hibernate.

Pete: YO! I ‘bout to pop a tiny little cap in yo’ tiny little—-


Nick: MOM!


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  1. August 29th, 2008 at 14:34 | #1

    Studs: Hey, faggots… you gals keep puttin’ that glitter on those belts like that, they’re gonna end up lookin’ better than the shit we got now.

    And stop doin’ that, you’re gonna get that meathead Plants all fucked up.

  2. August 29th, 2008 at 16:44 | #2

    ~~~Steve Studnuts is packing for a trip to the beach.~~~

    Studs: One more thing before I go, you guys think you can make plans against us? And think they’re gonna work?

    No way, because you’re gatdamn right I ain’t gonna sell any of your shit. I’m iAd. It’s a law I don’t sell. Sorry.

    I just won’t tag Plants in so he can choke. Heh.

    Plans are not foolproof when planned by fools. Ya dig?

    ~~~He grabs an industrial sized box of rubbers~~~

    Studs: I’m in a hurry, so Trey… thanks for takin’ care of that pesky little problem known as Death. I do owe ya, buddy.

    Just think back, you ain’t scared of that bony motherfucker.

    You laugh at Death, remember? One of my all time favorite promos…


    Studs: See ya in a week, fags.

    ~~~He grabs his suitcase and turns away from the camera~~~

    « Last Edit: Aug 29, 2008, 4:44pm by Steve Studnuts »

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