BOB eWrestling | Rant Zone Archive!

(The Great walks in to Little Johnny’s room as Johnny frantically tries to reboot Cyborg Angelina X. Not like that, you sick, perverted perverts! Get your mind of the gutter! Johnny’s in kindergarten for crying out loud! Shame on you! Shame on you all! Ummmmmmmm.
Yeah.)

The Great: Johnny? What are you doing?

Little Johnny: Obviously rebooting my cyborb in a totally non sexual manner, does it appear otherwise? Your simpleton sidekick, Peter Trable, corrupted her data base with a Toothlesspac Shakur rap that would make even Biz Markie sound coherent.

The Great: Let The Great listen to it.

Little Johnny: No! I will be punished for its vulgarity and innuendo!

The Great: Nonsense, Pete made the rap, how could The Great punish you?

Little Johnny: Okay then, you asked for it.

(Johnny points a remote at the robot, its t.v. screen head comes to life, its accordion tube arms swing in the air like they just don’t care, and just when you think DANGER WILL ROBINSON will blurt out, you hear something worse.)

http://tts.imtranslator.net/39gx

(The Great looks slightly amused.)

The Great: That wasn’t so bad. The Great somewhat enjoyed that.

Little Johnny: That’s the clean part, Father. The Wal-Mart shelf version. The specialty store hardcore, get your parent’s permission to purchase portion in forthcoming. You’ve been warned. I’m completely awash of co-conspiracy, correct?

The Great: The Great guesses so.

(Little Johnny gulps and points the remote again at the robot.)

http://tts.imtranslator.net/39ie

(The Great looks around nervously.)

http://tts.imtranslator.net/39iu

The Great: Umm, that’s probably good. Turn it off.

http://tts.imtranslator.net/39jJ

The Great: Son? Can you turn it off?

(Johnny uses the remote to lower the volume.)

Little Johnny: That’s precisely what I was going to inform you about, Father. Pete locked in the digital voice simulator with an intricate pattern of passwords and trigonometry. I can’t break the code, and I’m still alarmed at the fact I used Pete and trigonometry in the same sentence. He must have accidently created a near impervious protection device on the voice emit. Give me a day or two.

The Great: Fine, just keep the volume down so your mother doesn’t hear it. She’ll ground all of us!

Little Johnny: I don’t sweat the Breeder. Besides, isn’t it on a shopping spree with other greedy spouses?

The Great: Of course.

Little Johnny: I have two days then. At the minimum.

The Great: Do the best you can. The Great can’t afford being kept home with this GYANT encounter on the horizon. The Great, as is Kobe Gyant, is on the threshold of huge things in 2009. The Great and Kobe Gyant are the true future of BOB. Not the current champion who’s rumored to be going to surround himself with a bunch of old STWF guys and putting together some half assed ‘Feature Match Mafia’, not the panda bear, not the wizard guy, nor the chick with the metal on her face or the guy covered in feces, and certainly not the dude that lamely sends his promos in via third party email. No. It’s The Great. It’s Kobe. The Great will give the man his due, he’s very talented and very dangerous. He’s on the rise. But so is The Great. The winner of this match will get the inside track on being the leader of the new BOB. The Headliner of Tomorrow. The Next Big Thing.

Little Johnny: Umm. Wasn’t that Brock Lesnar?

The Great: Is Brock Lesnar in BOB?

Little Johnny: No.

The Great: Then no, it’s not Brock Lesnar. Although The Great heard John Cena was coming to the Brawler’s on a Budget.

Little Johnny: I figured Lesnar would eventually show , he’s been everywhere else it seems. Maybe Kimbo Slice? He’s certainly lost some luster after he got KTFOed. BOB would be a nice fit.

The Great: Did you just say KTFOed?

Little Johnny: Yes. So?

The Great: Since when was it okay for you to swear, even if in letter form?

Little Johnny: Gah? Huh? Oh wait, wait does it mean? I do not know, I’m only in kindergarten, remember. Look at me! I’m five years old!

The Great: Nice try. You’re grounded.

Little Johnny: Okay, I’ll tell the Breeder that you made Pete Trable program my robot to speak like Chuck D and see if you get to iMPLOSION! 16 mister.

The Great: Alright, ALRIGHT! You’re ungrounded.

(The Great then turns to the camera)

The Great: Kobe. It’s game time. The Great doesn’t condone Pete’s silent auction purchase, The Great likes to earn what The Great gets. The Great is going to pretend that you are the tag-team champions and what stands between The Great and GREATNESS in the Brawler’s on a Budget. It’s a new attitude era, and you are The Rock and The Great is Stone Cold. The Great may even pull out a Stunner 03. The Great will see you soon. Son.

(The cyborg Angelina X passes by the camera one last time.)

http://tts.imtranslator.net/39lH

THE GREAT rant

(A camera zooms in on hand written sign taped to The Great’s front door.)

Please come back in a couple of weeks, The Great had to sell The Great’s PC and take a part time second shift job to help cover the costs of XBOX360, a 50 foot USB cable, a router, and Halo 3 for Nick’s Christmas present. The Great will not get into Lori’s expensive tastes or Little Johnny’s Robot Factory 5000. The Great’s wife kept it simple, a brand new, full length mink from Kaufman Furs, two pair of Prada, a new set of china dinnerware, and a 2009 Mercedes-Benz C-Class C350W Sedan. The Mother in Law was happy with the first three seasons of All in the Family DVD set. The Great apologizes for any inconvenience.

Thank you,
The Great

THE GREAT rant

(The Great and Pete “X-Factor” Trable are packing their gear bags for October Surprise. Actually, they should have already done so and be at October Surprise, so this could be a day or so late in translation. Oh well.)

The Great: Pete, are you ready for Snore Games: The Match Be-Yawn? The Great sure is ready. This is the biggest match in The Great’s career. Even bigger than when The Great wrestled Death for THE ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS.

Pete: Why you shoutin’, dawg? I’m right here, yo!

The Great: The Great was told you must capitalize ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS when typing, er, saying it. You should know that, you’ve been in BOB long enough.

Pete: Word. But I never get to umm, say that, since I ain’t never be rasslin’ for it. Feel me?

The Great: The Great gets your point. By the way, The Great must ask you something about what you said back at the Swiss Army Scrabble Scramble.

Pete: Shoot. I be all ears.

The Great: The Great cannot sugar coat this. The Great will not beat around the bush. Although it appears you’ve been beating around some bush during The Great’s moments of working The Great’s day job.

Pete: Word?

The Great: Oh? Pete has for gotten? Let The Great refresh your memory. Here’s what you said. Then feel free to look at The Great. And elaborate.

(The Great pulls out an iMPLOSION! 14 transcript and begins to read)

You said: Then there’s the dude who calls himself The Great
Let me ya’ll a little secret: his first name’s not Nate
His identity
May be a mystery
Even to me
But there is one thing that I know about the Great’s wife
You’ve heard my raps, you know about Barney Fife and word life?
Then you also know I’d love to be in her face, sucka
And you could call Pete Trable a mother— *mic in the air*

Then the crowd said: *BLEEEEP*

And Styles added: OH MY GOD!

(The Great crumples the paper and tosses in on the floor.)

The Great: Well? Explain this to The Great.

Pete: Yo, dawg! I was just playin’! I’m not tryin’ to talk to your girl, your girl can’t even cook, yo! My boo gots to be able to mix up some red beans and rice at the drop of a hat. Fry some chicken if need be, know what I’m sayin’?

(The Great stares at Pete with a look of suspicion.)

Pete: YO! We partnahs! This is the most action I’ve got in BOB, yo! I ain’t stuck in broke ass factions like Heirarchy and sayin’ dumb shit like gram-gram. Since we hook up, I got regular work! I ain’t tryin’ to hate on you and get busy wit your girl. I ain’t tryin’ to hit that!

The Great: Oh, so now The Great’s wife “ain’t worth hitting?”

Pete: Nah, she worth hittin’, I didn’t mean it like that, yo!

The Great: So you WOULD like to hit it.

Pete: Dude, you be twissin’ my words around! Chill, bro! I was just tryin’ to pump up the fans, that’s all! Like I said, my boo gotta cook! She gotta stir up some chitlins and fatback. Pigs feet, yo! All I eat since I got here is Top Ramen and Skahetti O’s! What kinda gangsta eat Skahetti O’s?

The Great: The Great guesses one from the ghetti – o’s? Maybe some Latin gangstas from the— barrios?

Pete: That ain’t right, dawg! Look, I was just Pete bein’ Pete, yo! I was freestylin’, and when I be freestylin’, the raps just flow, know what I’m sayin’? Sometimes I can’t control it.

The Great: Okay. Okay. I guess The Great will accept that apology. But only if you finished that video you promised to make The Great. The one for Angelina X. I hope she didn’t renig on that turkey dinner because The Great didn’t flop for Hawking.

Pete: Yeah, it ain’t cool bein’ a renigger!

The Great: Did you finish it?

Pete: Word! It’s all set. You sang my lyrics like a champ, dawg! Got the sunglasses on there and everythin’. Yo face is a little whack, but I added some beats and it’s all good. Check it out! After Angelina see this, she won’t be able to say no to cookin’ us some bird!

(They go over to The Great’s television and Pete plops a DVD into the player)

The Great: That’s——-well, THAT’S GREAT! You’re right, she can’t say no to THAT! Let’s go to Snore Games and kick some ass, pal!

Pete: WOOooOOoOOoOoOoOOOoRD!

(They grab their bags and leave.)

THE GREAT rant Death, e-fed, e-wrestling, parody, The Great, wrestling, XFactor Pete Trable

(The Great and his wife are sharing an intimate “dinner”, complete with generic soothing background music, candles, and an obvious lack of romance. The Great is gingerly poking at The Great’s food with The Great’s fork.)

The Great’s wife: What wrong, dear? You’re not eating.

The Great: What is this stuff? It’s making The Great’s belly ache.

The Great’s wife: Canned brains! I saw a commerical for them the other day and thought I’d heat some up. You don’t like them, do you?

The Great: Perhaps The Great would like them if The Great was The Great Zombie. The Great wants a turkey dinner with all the trimmings. Honey baked ham. Mashed potatoes and homemade gravy—

(The Great drifts off to a state of consciousness where he could be mistaken as The Great Zombie. He sits there, shoulders slumped, head cocked to the side, blank stare. Drooling.)

The Great: Tuuuuuurkeeeeeeeeeey—

The Great’s wife: OH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!

(The Great is startled back to reality)

The Great’s wife: Is that all you ever think about is yourself? What about me? I slave around here all day, I have needs! And you bought this! What did you buy me?

(She shoves a Scrabble board at him from across the table.)

The Great: The Great had to purchase that. The Great has to train.

The Great’s wife: Oh yeah, for that stupid wrestling promotion that never pays you? To win what? A SCRABBLE GAME? What’s that have to do with WRESTLING?

The Great: The Great needs to win a Scrabble game to determine the best entry for a Swiss Army Belt title match in the Brawlers on a Budget. It could lead to a huge pay date—- for The Great.

The Great’s wife: Do you really expect me to believe THAT? You haven’t made a DIME since you started there!

The Great: That’s nonsense. The Great has most certainly made a dime. At least a dime.

The Great’s wife: Not only are you a money earning laughing stock at wrestling, you take your frustrations out on the boys! Why did you ground Nick and Johnny?

The Great: Huh? The Great did not ground anybody.

The Great’s wife: Then why have they been moping around here for weeks?

The Great: Something to do with XBOX and plutonium, or the fact that those didn’t arrive in the mail, The Great speculates.

The Great’s wife: WHAT? WHAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaT? NICK! GET DOWN HERE! I’ll find out RIGHT NOW what you’re talking about!

(Nick, their 10 year old son, appears at the table. He appears saddened.)

The Great’s wife: Nick, why did your father ground you?

Nick: Huh? I’m not grounded.

The Great’s wife: Then why are you acting like you’ve lost your best friend?

Nick: I did. Well, I didn’t really lose him ’cause he never showed up.

The Great: See?

The Great’s wife: That proves nothing! What was your friend’s name, dear?

Nick: XBOX 360.

The Great’s wife: Oh—

Nick: Hey— (pointing at the Scrabble board) what’s that?

The Great: It’s a game.

Nick: What kind of game? Where’s the controller?

The Great: It’s a board game called Scrabble, son.

Nick: Board game? That’s lame! It doesn’t even hook up to the t.v.! How do you play it?

The Great: You form words using letters and get points.

Nick: Spelling? A spelling game? THAT’S SO FREEGGIN’ GAY!

The Great’s wife: NICK! GO TO YOUR ROOM, YOU’RE GROUNDED!

Nick: AW MOM! What’d I do? MOM? WHAT’D I DO?

The Great: The Great thinks you overreacted.

The Great’s wife: My son will not talk like that.

(The Mother in Law walks into the dinning room at looks at the Scrabble board)

The Mother in Law: SCRABBLE? I love Scrabble! I used to be a champion back in the day!

The Great: Really? The Great might have finally found a reason to like your mother!

The Great’s wife: You’re a pig!

The Great: A lucky pig perhaps—(he looks at his Mother in Law) You want to play?

The Mother in Law: Why yes! I thought you’d never ask! I’ll show you some words that nobody thinks are even words! Like that one time when I won a regional final with “fez”. Z is a twelve pointer, you know? Ah, the memories—

The Great: Don’t talk, please. Just play. The Great will take notes.

(They scurry off to another room.)

The Great’s wife: What about your supper! Aren’t you going to eat?

(offscreen The Great): The Great can’t clean that plate. The Great is stuffed. Feed it to the dog.

The Great’s wife: FINE! See if I break my back cooking for you again anytime soon.
(She begins calling the dog) Come here, girl! Here, girl! *whistles* Come here, Crystal! I have some dinner for you!

(A scraggly white poodle walks into the scene. The Great’s wife sets The Great’s plate on the floor.)

Dog: *whimper*

The Great’s wife: Awww, eat it already for crying out loud!

Dog: *whimper*

The Great’s wife: Spoiled brat! I suppose you want some Scooby Snacks?

Dog: *wags tail*

(Somewhere in a haunted mansion where the gardner is plotting to get away with something that would have worked if it wasn’t for meddling kids.)

Scooby Doo: Scrabble Dabble Doo!

THE GREAT rant e-fed, parody, The Great, wrestling

(THE FOLLOWING IS POSSIBLE DUE TO THE COOPERATION AND CONSENT OF THE OPPOSING HANDLER. THANK YOU!)

Nick: It’s counting down! It’s loading!

(The fuzzy t.v. screen clears and focuses on an attractive brunette.)

Nick: Who’s that woman, Dad?

“The Great”: Shhhhh. Maybe it’s illegal scat porn.

Nick: What?

“The Great”: Nothing, Nick. The Great just understands from another thread that saying “scat” is good for the Brawler’s on a Budget advertising campaign.

Nick: I don’t get it.

Little Johnny: You probably never will. Now quiet, children. This technology is fascinating to say the least.

Watch Angelina X’s Transmission!

Angelina X: Hello gentlemen. Stupendous Steven Hawking, the most intelligent wrestler in BOB history and the most exciting on four wheels, has interrupted your regular viewing by tapping into your satellite service so I can bring you this message. The Great, this is directed at you. I have an offer for you. An offer you certainly cannot resist.

Little Johnny: Ahh, love is in the air. She’s going to give you a shot of leg, old man.

“The Great”: No way. The Great does not stray. And The Great does not think that’s her agenda.

Little Johnny: Her man is the ultimate Intellectual Vegetable. Nerd-like boring and limp as a biscuit. Of course she’s starved for some Horizontal Mombo.

Nick: Biscuits ain’t vegetables! Dad! Is Johnny talking about sex?

“The Great”: No, son. And The Great is not interested. The Great is married.

Little Johhny: Please, Father. I recently read some where that married men were the worst cheaters.

“The Great”: Touche.

Little Johnny: Pardon? Did you just call me a douche?

“The Great”: Ummm. No. The Great said “two shay”.

Little Johnny: Touché. How difficult was that?

Watch Angelina X’s Transmission!

Angelina X: Are you guys finished? I haven’t got all day.

“The Great”: The Great is sorry. What is the offer? The Great is curious. Nick, go to your room just in case this gets R rated.

Nick: Aw man! I’m telling mom!

Watch Angelina X’s Transmission!

Angelina X: It’s not about sex. Nick can stay.

Nick: Yeah!

Little Johnny: Damn.

“The Great”: Johhny, watch your language. What is this offer you have for The Great? But The Great should warn you, The Great doesn’t take bribes.

Watch Angelina X’s Transmission!

Angelina X: Can you stop that? That third person thing is really annoying. I didn’t like it when The Rock was doing it either, and you’re no Rock.

Little Johnny: Ha! She called him The Rack.

Watch Angelina X’s Transmission!

Angelina X: So my voice translation isn’t perfect. I lied earlier, my voice was lost due to the cockroach skin tag on my shoulder. It was a form of cancer that spread to my larynx. Anyway, let’s get down to business. You can give us something we need, and I can give you something you need. If you can guarantee a victory for Steven Hawking at implosion eleven, by whatever means you desire to lose the match, I’ll cook you the largest Thanksgiving dinner you’ve ever seen. Fit for a king, and it’s not even Thanksgiving yet.

(The camera zooms in on The Great. His eyes are glassy and he’s noticeably salivating.)

Nick: Don’t do it, Dad! You need to win!

Watch Angelina X’s Transmission!

Angelina X: Steven Hawking has published several books and he’s rich. I think he can spare the funds for a new ex box three sixty and halo three as well.

(Nick is now having an euphoric seizure on the floor.)

Little Johnny: This is perposterous. I don’t think—-

Watch Angelina X’s Transmission!

Angelina X: I’m sure Steven can score some plutonium also. He has the contacts to get it done.

(Little Johnny faints, curls up into fetal position and starts sucking his thumb.)

Watch Angelina X’s Transmission!

Angelina X: I’m confident you’ll make the right choice. It was great doing business with you, The Great. See you later, hugs and kisses.

THE GREAT rant Angelina X, BOB Wrestling, e-fed, parody, Stupendous Stephen Hawking, The Great, wrestling

(The Great, his ten year old son Nick and his five year old son “Little” Johnny are sitting on The Great’s living room floor. Nick and The Great are playing SMACKDOWN vs. RAW 2004 on PS2 as The Great seems to want to expand his move set. Nick is mostly complaining about the need for Halo 3 and a XBOX360. Dad, of course, ignores his pleas.

Johnny is working on a complex, multifaceted algorithm of sorts when he realizes he’s “on to something”, drops what he’s doing, and begins to speak in his James Earl Jones sounding voice—)

Little Johnny: Father?

“The Great”: (staring at the t.v.) BOOM! TWIST OF GREAT! Did you feel THAT, Nick old boy!? (The Great playfully shoves Nick over)

Little Johnny: (cupping his hands around his mouth) Oh, sperm donor?

Nick: You cheat! Quit blocking my finishers!

Little Johnny: (ahem) Ohhhh, Breeder’s puppet for being a fleshy ATM machine and baby batter PEZ dispenser? I’ve solved your problem.

“The Great”: OFF THE TOP—-WHAMMO! Take that, SON! The Great is starting to DOM—I—-NATE! Tap out, you worthless jobber!

Nick: Dad? That’s a rest hold! Nobody taps to THAT!

Little Johnny: FATHER! You hebetudinous cad! I say I’ve found the solution to your dilemma.

(The Great pauses the game and looks at Johnny.)

“The Great”: Johnny, why do you want to distract The Great when The Great is getting ready to FINISH HIM? What are you rambling about?

Little Johnny: Rambling? Check your tone and attitudinarianism, kind sir. I said, if my calculations are correct, I have solved your—- “problem.”

“The Great”: WHAT problem?

Little Johnny: Is it not a fact you’ll soon be engaged in scripted violence with a quad called Steven Hawking? In case you haven’t noticed, he’s undefeated, as are you, if I recall, in singles competition. However, since you sided with that ragamuffin, street cred-less urchin, Pete Trable, you’ve barely sustained Jimmy Wang Yang status. But I digress.

In straight up, non-tandem, non-clustered “every man for himself” type contests— you’re still on the unscathed list. This must continue or The Breeder will continue to howl at decibels only canines should endure.

“The Great”: Okay, you have The Great’s attention. Tell me.

(Johnny holds up an iPod sized instrument that has a joystick and buttons fastened to it)

Little Johnny: This— is my greatest invention. It’s a universal remote for motorized wheelchairs. Do you see where I’m heading with this?

“The Great”: The Great cannot say The Great fully understands.

Little Johnny: Should I offer an exegesis?

“The Great”: Huh?

Little Johnny: (sighs heavily) Never mind. Just listen, here’s what you do. If memory serves correct, Steven Hawking owns an electric or motorized chair, yes?

“The Great”: The Great doesn’t know.

Little Johnny: Well, if he doesn’t, you buy him a HOVEROUND and tell him it’s a gift from all the guys and gals in BOB. Do this prior to !MPLOSION! 11. Sure, the man is of superior intellect, but we’ll hope that he succumbs to the “friendly gesture” aspect of our scheme. You follow?

“The Great”: The Great does—

Little Johnny: Once he wheels to the ring, gets in, and the bell sounds, I activate my remote and wheel him right back to the dressing room and he gets counted out! I’m a genius.

Nick: That’s cheating!

“The Great”: The Great agrees, The Great feels bad about cheating against a man without the use of his limbs.

Little Johnny: Hold the phone. Didn’t you once try to arrange the construction of a prison yard shank to stab Death with?

“The Great”: Umm, that was a joke.

Little Johnny: Nonsense. You’re not fooling me, you’ll do anything to win. And with this, you can’t lose. You don’t’ even have to hit him.

“The Great”: Son, your inventions have a way of backfiring. Remember the Pete Trable cyborg fiasco?

Little Johnny: I’m still working on that—it’s a work IN PROGRESS.

Nick: Dad, I’m hungry. When’s Mom getting home?

“The Great”: Don’t know, Nick. Her and Lori went shopping. Again. The Great can’t understand why a teenaged girl needs five pair of UGGs.

Little Johnny: Forget UGGs. Buy the HOVEROUND. Give it to Steven Hawking. Watch me work my magic. Remain unbeaten in one-on-one match-ups.

(Nick starts FREAKING out)

Nick: DAD! DAD! LOOK!

(he points at the television)

Nick: Something’s wrong with the t.v.! Something’s coming on!

Little Johnny: Looks as though somebody or something has pirated the lines and is programming into our home. Neat trick, do tell!

Nick: Who is that, Dad? How are they doing that?

“The Great”: The Great doesn’t know, son. Let’s just watch and see what happens—–

THE GREAT rant e-fed, e-wrestling, parody, Pete Trable, The Great, wrestling

(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—-

The Great: MORE GLITTER!

Nick: MOM!

(End)

THE GREAT rant Dr. Silaconne M. Plants, e-fed, parody, Pete Trable, Steve Studnuts, The Great

(Close up shot of The Great, whose head looks very big right now.)

“The Great”: Axl, I guess The Great will go ahead and accept your out of character apology. The Great does, however, still think you’re a tool. At Power is Stolen, The Great and Pete Trable will let that water be under the bridge, we’ll let by gones be by gones. The beating you guys get from us will be punishment enough for your crimes. We’re going to destroy whatever Heirarchy members we face. Hopefully, you’re one of them.

(The camera angle zooms back a bit to reveal The Great and Pete Trable located in an unsavory section of downtown St. Louis. While The Great is dressed in black slacks and a button down shirt, Pete is in full gangsta regalia (well, what he considers “gangsta” anyway)— super baggy jeans, tan Lugz, and a throwback Vince Ferragamo jersey. Despite it being 73 degrees outside and evidence of a slight drizzle, both men are standing next to a lid-less 50 gallon metal drum with a fire burning inside it.)

“The Great”: That’s right, The Heirarchy. The Great and Pete Trable are in East St. Louis. We’ll probably be murdered in less than 10 minutes, so we’re in a hurry to get out of here. Pete insisted to do this in this location, he begged The Great. The Great finally complied. Pete has something to say to you and your group. The Great will standby and listen, and keep The Great’s finger on the trigger of The Great’s Baretta.

(Pete steps in front of The Great. A couple of disheveled winos that were rolling dice to this point, stop and begin a simple beat box routine. Pete’s body starts to move, and when he’s “in time” with the beat boxing, he just blurts out.)

Pete: That’s true, it’s Pete—
In East St. Lou.
Telling all what we gonna—
do to you.

IT’S FRESH!

You never heard this shit be – fore
Look over there – at that crack whore!

Come to P.I.S. and don’t meander.
Cheap Trick’s lead-singer is Robin Zander.
That shit in your hair?—
some call it dander.
Axl, you’re a queer —
and that shit ain’t slander.

My partner is The Great—
but not Alexander.
This match is a slam dunk—
A LeBron one hander!

Oh YEAH—
We – gonna – kick – that – ass
My bullets penetrate—
Yard thick glass.

That last line sucked
I know it’s true
But it hella lot better
Than what you could do.

When I was in your faction
it was kinda like in-traction
An action hero—
without the action.

Your raps made me suck—
in the eyes of the fans
My street cred vanished—
Like Guevara’s hands.

I’m serious, yo!
When you started to rhyme—
You should’ve been arrested
for a death row crime!

But Pete is back
you know that’s right.
Gonna whoop that ass—
in an one-sided fight.

And if you don’t understand
all of my rhymes
Maybe Fraud can return—
and explain this time.

WORD!

Now when you lose to the best—
And you wanna throw rocks
Just remember what happened
To Thrillacox.

Don’t cry when you job—
We just a team you can’t stop
By the time we through—
You’d prefer rape from Spacecop.

OH YEAH!
This shit?
It’s gonna get nasty.
I can’t think of anything to rhyme with nasty.

In short, we’re gonna go—
JOBBER BOWLIN’!
Guess who’s the pins?
At Power is Stolen.

THE GREAT rant Axl, e-fed, e-wrestling, parody, The Great, wrestling, XFactor Pete Trable

(The Great is at his dinner table, surrounded by his family and Pete Trable. This isn’t a fable. Join them to eat if you’re able. Big Daddy V used to be Mable. Scene set-up written by Pete Trable.)

“The Great”: Pete, that was terrible! The Great is moments away from the biggest match in The Great’s career, The Great needs to squeeze in a killer promo to tilt the booker’s decision to The Great’s favor, and you start us off with a weak, lame intro.

Pete: Yo, it’s what was on the index card. I be gettin a lot of lame ass index cards lately, yo.

The Great’s wife: Pete! There’s kids at the table!

Pete: Sorry, ma’am. Could you pass some of that Roast Beef flavored Top Ramen?

The Great’s wife: Certainly! I slaved over this all evening, I hope you enjoy!

“The Great”: Slaved? There’s not even any meat in this!

The Mother in Law: Whah whah whuh whuh WHAH.

“The Great”: What? The Grand Slam match is already written so all this is a watse of time? What are you talking about?

The Mother In Law: Whah whah whah WHUH WHUH WHUH whahwhah whuh.

“The Great”: You read a message in Vent Your Spleen on the Brawlers on a Budget forums? This promo is useless because the outcome is already decided?

The Mother in Law: whuh.

Pete: Steve Studnuts already did a promo, yo. Prior to any messages on the Vent, knowwhatI’msayin? He gonna take it.

“The Great”: Nonsense, that is only possible by assuming the match is predetermined, written and saved on a hard drive somewhere, just waiting to get posted on a website, and that The Great is not flying out Tuesday night, BACK to UnFOURgiven to compete in the main even after having to fly out there once already to do a run-in during Part 1.

The Great’s wife: YEAH! The better reimbuse you for flying out there twice!

Lori: Dad? What’s a run-in?

“The Great”: The Great had to save Pete at the end of his match, because Axl INSISTof having a program with The Great and is doing everything in his power to make it happen. He called The Great non-stop for several days trying to get Nick involved in his storylines and wanting to work The Great in a main event feud. The Great wonders what made Axl think he was main event worthy. The Great said The Great wasn’t interested, thanks but no thanks and Axl persisted. The Great finally had to ignore Axl because everytime The Great tried to politely decline, Axl would come back and contradict everything he said to The Great the previous time and ask again. The Great still said no, and now The Great is running off Axl and Steve Roydz with a chair and staring at Axl like The Great wants to throw down. Needless to say, this happened on the portion of UnFOURgiven that Axl is booking. The Great is not happy with this.

Pete: YOU?! I had to take a superkick from that pillah bitah and play dead, yo!

“The Great”: The Great feels your pain. Axl, read The Great’s lips:
The Great is not interested in feuding with you! The Great is trying to concentrate—-
on the Grand Slam Finale.

With you, The Great wishes not to associate.
Your punch lines are 5 seconds too late.
The feelings are turning to hate.
Apologize, before it’s too late.

Pete: Yo, that wasn’t half bad for a white guy.

Little Johnny: Quite lovely. May we please eat dinner now? My stomach is churning like the tides of a tsunami and I have a multitude of tasks to complete before bedtime.

Nick: Ah, you don’t have nothing to do!

The Great’s wife: Boys! Don’t start that at dinner!

Little Johnny: I DO have something to do, the Father asked me to accomplish a little job for him. With pinpoint accurate GPS coordinates, a sattelite beam refracting light off Uranus—

The Great’s wife: JOHNNY!

Little Johnny: —-and a smidge luck, it just might work.

“The Great”: You’re that confident, son?

Little Johnny: Why, yes, sperm donor. The luck is the tricky part, but I think I can arrange it that the next time Axl goes to type an angle with him and you, and we’ll know this by a device counting precise keystrokes, his hands will evaporate.

“The Great”: That would be great.

Nick: Ha! Less of him to hate!

Pete: Yo, he could no longer masturbate.

Lori: T.M.I., Pete! That’s T.M.I.!

(end)

THE GREAT rant Axl, e-fed, e-wrestling, parody, Steve Roydz, The Great, wrestling, XFactor Pete Trable

(In St. Louis, Missouri, The Great has called for a “family meeting.” The wife deeply sighs, the kids moan, the Mother in Law says, “Whah whah whuh, WHAH?” and Pete Trable pretty much says the same thing, which was, “What da f—k, n—–a?”.

Regardless of the unwillingness, everybody attends the meeting. They are all lined up on the couch, from left to right:

The wife, 15 year old Lori, 10 year old Nick, Pete Trable, 5 year old Johnny, and the Mother in Law, who now wishes to be known as O.G. Granny Master Flash, wearing a bathrobe, a large gold chain, sunglasses (Blu-Blockers) and a black leather pimp hat. The Great paces in front of them. )

“The Great”: As you all well know, The Great survived The Royal Flush Rumble and has advanced to the final eight of the Grand Slam Tournament. The Great was fortunate to draw a very lucky entry into the Rumble, and avoided disaster when the Pete Trable cyborg as a weapon fiasco went awry.

Little Johnny: Ah yes. This we must discuss. Did I not inform you that purified water minus electrolytes was absolutely paramount in initiating the regeneration process? You used electrolyte-enhanced water, didn’t you?

“The Great”: The Great is not sure. The Great used bottled water and The Great didn’t really bother to read the ingredients. The Great didn’t think water had ingredients other than clearness and liquid. Water is water.

Little Johnny: NO! Water is most certainly NOT water, you imbecile! Now, thanks to your blundering on national television, I’ve been made a fool. I’ve been exposed, unjustly, as a charlatan whose creations do not work. How do you suppose I’m going to be invited to the Evil Geniuses of Genocidal Inventions Conventions for the late September, early October sessions? I’ll be ridiculed!

Pete: Ridiculed? Damn, yo, you don’t even know ridicule until you’re naked in front of a crowd and they be chantin’, “You got shrinkage.”

Lori: Hmmm, I don’t know about that. They used a lot of pixilation. Hee hee!

Little Johnny: No, they really didn’t. You did have shrinkage, Peter. I’ve seen children in Pre-K, getting their diapers changed, more hung than you.

Pete: YO! What up wit dat?!

The Mother in Law: Whurd!

“The Great”: Son, The Great apologizes. The Great needed a weapon and The Great couldn’t think of one right away.

Little Johnny: Father, there are times I’m embarrassed to be of your loins. I’ve not even completed my calculations with the cyborg pills, they’re not even ready for use. Otherwise, nimwit, I’d have conquered the world by now. And then you go and use that generic, DIRTY water. It’s a wonder there wasn’t a dangerous chain reaction from incongruent ingredients that caused a mutated side effect even I couldn’t remedy. I swear, there are times I think I could remove your brain, shove it up a gnat’s rectum, shake the gnat violently, and you brain would ricochet around in there like an Air-Soft pellet in Epcot Center.

“The Great”: Son? You’re headed for a spanking, young man.

Little Johnny: I’m sorry! Please forgive me, Father. I’m just really upset right now.

“The Great”: Well, so is The Great. Very upset. The Great’s next match is an encounter with Dr. Thrilla, The Swiss Army Champion. If The Great is victorious, The Great goes on to the final match at UnFOURgiven. But that has not upset The Great. What has upset The Great is that The Great has been accused of forcing some family members, namely “a son”, into Brawlers on a Budget promos, and has been called an abomination of a man for doing such.

Little Johnny: What in the blue flames of Hades is Brawlers on a Budget?

The Great’s wife: It’s that STUPID wrestling thing your dad is doing INSTEAD of getting a REAL second job so we can get LOTS of THINGS we NEED.

Little Johnny: Oh, is that why that strange man snuck into my room the other night? He was an employee of a wrestling promotion? What a relief, I thought it was a Catholic priest trying to cop some video footage of me convalescing in my Jimmy Neutron briefs.

“The Great”: Okay, that’s just about enough of that. The Great says Johnny needs to—-

Nick: Know his role and shut his mouth?

“The Great”: Um, no. The Great is putting Johnny on the back burner. Johnny? Quit talking so much. This is about The Great. Not the Great’s family.

The Great’s wife: Oh no! Hold on a minute! For Christ’s sake. JESUS! For Christ’s sake! It’s ALWAYS about the family!

“The Great”: Not this time. This time, it’s about The Great. The Great is putting The Great’s foot down. The Great needs to be devoid of distraction. The Great, needs to concentrate. The Great, needs to evaluate. The Great, needs to formulate. Then, The Great will dominate.

(The Great directly faces the camera)

“The Great”: Dr. Thilla. You’ve been placed into a very precarious position. On the one hand, you could become the first man in the Brawlers on a Budget to defeat The Great. On the other, you could become the first, of many, men The Great has taken a championship from. The Great assumes a D.Q. win for The Great is not good enough. Only the champions make it to the Grand Slam Finale, and titles don’t switch on D.Q.’s as The Great learned against Death. Therefore, one of us is getting pinned or submitted. One way or the other, Dr. Thrilla, wrestling The Great will make you famous.

Nick: Dad?

“The Great”: Yeah, son?

Nick: Am I still allowed to talk in your promo things?

“The Great”: The Great supposes so.

Nick: Good. Can I have a X-Station Wii60 and The Vortex?!

“The Great”: Shit! MEETING ADJOURNED!

(As the family members scamper in various directions, O.G. Granny Master Flash stands in front of Pete Trable and opens her bathrobe. )

Pete: DAMN, YO! Where dat pixilation at, dogg! Granny Master FLASH, fo’ sho’!

The Mother in Law: Whuh whuh whuh whah whah.

Pete: What? I showed you mine, you show me yours? Yo, I didn’t show you, I was at a wrestling show, girl! Back dat train up!

The Mother in Law: Whuh whah?

Pete: Oh, HELL NAH! Not DAT train!

Lori: MOM! Granny’s rump shaking again!

The Great’s wife: Mom, stop shaking your rear at Pete! Mom? MOTHER! Stop that right now!

(Cut to commercial.)

THE GREAT rant e-fed, e-wrestling, parody, The Great, wrestling, XFactor Pete Trable