Posts Tagged ‘Dr. Thrilla’

I-don’t-even-read-the-shows-these-days promoing

July 7th, 2008

Mr. Paradox

*Completely ignoring that technically, there’s a PPV going on right now, Mr. Paradox sits in front of a cheap TV, Playstation 2 controller in his hands, his eyes narrow.*

Mr. Paradox: Block… Block, damn you! *sound of buttons clicking* Do I have to play as Ryu again? Come on… *Sighs, hits the soft reset combination* Fucking Birdie.

Dr. Thrilla

*Dr. Thrilla walks in, sipping from a bottle of Jack Daniels and accompanied by Cecil.*

Dr. Thrilla: *half-drunk metal clanging*

Cecil: The doctor questions why you aren’t discussing Unfourgiven.

Mr. Paradox: Because I just skimmed through it and wasn’t impressed. For some reason my heart just isn’t in it these days. I don’t know why.

Dr. Thrilla: *Depressed metal clanging*

Cecil: WHat do you mean?

Mr. Paradox: I mean… Well, the excitement’s gone. Back in the days I had feuds that were the stuff of legend. Now? I’m just another two-bit tweener. Even Thrilla has better angles than I do.

Dr. Thrilla: *Unimpressed clanging*

Cecil: The doctor isn’t too happy with how it’s being handled lately, either. He doesn’t even watch iMPLOSION except for his matches.

Mr. Paradox: I can’t gather the excitement to promo more than the once or twice I need to in order to keep from joining XXXTreme Machine on the jobber ranks. It’s just tiresome.

Dr. Thrilla: *Careful metal clanging*

Cecil: The doctor wants to call it “apathy”, but doesn’t want Trey to sue us.

Mr. Paradox: Yeah…

*He hands Thrilla the Player 2 controller, and they resume playing Street Fighter Alpha 3.*

rant , , , , ,

A moment with the Swiss Ar-um, what champ am I?

June 24th, 2008

Steve Studnuts

~~~Steve Studnuts is at the Arizona Center in downtown Phoenix at the Piano Bar, a gaggle of hot chicks navigate around him like the moons to his Jupiter. He has a championship belt draped over his shoulder. A giant arrow, digitalized on the screen appears over the title, with flashing words ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS over it. We join in progress~~~

Studs: So the penis says,”Is that as deep as it gets?”

~~~The girls force laughter.~~~

Studs: BWAAA HAAA HAAA! You get it?

Girl1: Steve, you’re SO funny!

Studs: Yep, but not as funny as motherfuckers that insert their own foot into their mouth!

Girl 2: I can do that!

~~~She removes her pump and seductively sucks her own toes.~~~

Studs: Say now. You’re pretty flexible. What’s your name, honey?

Girl 2: Gertrude.

Studs: What the fuck? How could a hot ass bitch like you end up with such an ugly gatdamn name? I’m gonna call you Sasha.

Girl 2: Isn’t that like, a Croatian name for a man?

Studs: Ya know, I think I heard that somewhere. How about I just call you Sarah?

Girl 2: Sarah? Okay. Why Sarah?

Studs: Let’s just say I’d like to fuck Sarah again. Ya dig? Just like I did at !MPLOSION 8! HA!

Girl 2: Okay!

Girl 3: HEY! Why does girl 2 get all the action? You can call me Sarah!

Studs: Sure, I’ll call you Sarah too. I’ll call all you bitches Sarah, and then we can have a great big Sarah fuckin’ orgy. How about that?

~~~The women giggle and do cheerleading kicks~~~

Studs: Now, excuse me while I conduct some business. Run along and freshen up.

~~~They collectively run to the restroom.~~~

Studs: Dr.Thrilla, I’m happy to see your dumbass wiggin’ out and tearin’ up your own shit for a change, as it’s now painfully obvious you’re what’s known in the biz as a bridge. You and your fag buddy Paradox are all upset about what? You lost a title after just winning it? You just got picked to bridge the title over to somebody else, and free me up to capture the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS.

Like Stan Stasiak did when he took the belt off Pedro Morales so Bruno could get it back. They didn’t want Bruno to beat Morales, so Stasiak got like a five day run as the bridge. Billy Graham was the same thing, in a sense, although he kept it longer and was actually a draw. Truth is, he bridged from Sammartino to Backlund, he was just a lot better than Stasiak. Learn your history, jerkweed —or fuck knuckles like you are doomed to repeat it.

~~~He rubs his chin for second~~~

Studs: Snitskey, huh? Push, huh? As a matter of FACT, faggots, this is the first time I’ve ever held this piece of shit. I’ve been here eight fuckin’ years. Yeah, I’m gettin’ a fuckin’ push because I do what I do and don’t fuckin’ publically cry when I drop a belt to an inferior, non-entertaining, no-charisma-havin’, shit burger like Thrilla. I was out of the tournament, that’s the way it fuckin’ goes. And if you think I knew beforehand that I was replacin’ Joe BananaFucker, then you’re wrong.

The people who matter know the truth, say whatever you want. I didn’t whine about it.

And finally, I have THE ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS, and thank God I got it before Plants did, I’d probably kill myself if he got it before me.

Which reminds me, that motherfucker has more lives than Victor Kiriakis. How is he STILL in the hunt for UnFOURgiven?

Plants, I should just take this title right now and scratch off Heidi’s first part of that safe combination, but what fun would that be? We have to keep the marks thinkin’ you still have a chance.

But first, you have to get by Trey and Kevin in the Triple Threat, and then get by myself and The Great at UnFOURgiven. I wouldn’t worry about Paradox, looks like he fucked himself right into a punishment job. Heh.

Good luck fuckers! I’m off to tear Jerri Li a new asshole.


~~~The girls return~~~

Studs: You bitches ready to fuck? Let’s go!

~~~They stand. Steve puts his arms around two of them, the rest mill around behind them as they all exit, whispering and gesturing to each other. ~~~

Studs: Hey, any of you bitches watch football, or fuck football players and have some inside contacts? I need tickets to some Sin City Icons games this year….


rant , , , , , , , , , ,

Bitter Reaction

June 24th, 2008

Mr. Paradox

*The abandoned warehouse that Mr. Paradox and Dr. Thrilla usually film in now looks like it was hit with a cruise missile. Dr. Thrilla himself is carrying a sledgehammer, clanging in fury and putting holes in the walls.*

Dr. Thrilla: *irate metal clanging*

*Cecil enters the scene, wearing riot gear.*

Dr. Thrilla

Cecil: Doctor, calm down. Just because you lost a meaningless title in a parody federation does not mean it’s the end of the world.

Dr. Thrilla: *incredulous metal clanging*

*The doctor hits the wall again, then bites through the wall with his metal teeth.*

Cecil: Do you really think anybody in this organization is fond of Studnuts? Rude jackass heels are a dime a dozen. He’s our equivalent of Gene Snitsky.

Dr. Thrilla: *Pause, chuckling metal clanging*

Cecil: The title will be off of him by the next PPV. Relax.

*Elsewhere in the building, Mr. Paradox hangs his half of the Not Good Enough to Fight Alone title from a hook, attaching a weight to the bottom half.*

Mr. Paradox: Trey, Trey, Trey… Do you really think I’ll accept being another part of your stupid little games?

*He draws his sword.*

Mr. Paradox: I’d rather be a jobber on the bottom of the pile… one step up from XXXtreme Machine… than hold a title alongside you. I used to be the YGBKIADTAYOOYFM champion. This is an insult to me and to my history in BOB.

*His feet shift.*

Mr. Paradox: And why the hell has Studnuts gotten all the push lately? His promos are nothing but the same dick jokes over and over again. I know it’s in our contract that we all job equally, but fuck that.

*The sword lifts, and he holds it out to his side.*

Mr. Paradox: I reject this title, and demand a shot at Studnuts for the Swiss Army Belt. If you do not grant it, I will just lay down and throw the tag titles anyway. Besides, if you don’t give Kevin back his half of the title he might burn down the arena next time.

*Mr. Paradox swings the sword, and then returns to his original stance and resheathes it. The Not Good Enough to Fight Alone belt sways for a moment, and then is cut in half, the weighted bottom half falling to the floor.*

Mr. Paradox: You may need some duct tape.

rant , , , , , , ,

Who’s on first?

June 7th, 2008

Steve Studnuts

~~~Steve Studnuts is sitting at his computer reading !MPLOSION! 7. After observing him for several minutes, you noticed a range of emotions from exhilaration to dejection. Maybe you didn’t notice. Pay attention, motherfucker. Connie Lingus, Steve’s live-in mooch that looks like the combined mega-sexiness of Cindy Crawford, Darva Conger, Sarah Michelle Gellar, and Angie Everhart, walks up to his left. Jizzabelle Cummins, Steve’s OTHER live-in mooch that resembles the offspring of lesbian sex between Tara Reid and Reese Witherspoon walks up to his right. It’s June. It’s Phoenix. So, it’s fucking hot. Even inside with a/c. Both girls are wearing bikinis that are just enough to cover their titty buttons and nicely trimmed ‘other’ hair.

Steve continues to look at the PC monitor, then opens a large, hardcover book, uses his index finger to scan through a paragraph or two, finds the proper context he’s looking for, then looks up from the screen.~~~

Studs: Fuck.

Connie: What’s wrong, Steve?

Studs: This show. It fuckin’ sucks.

Connie: Show?

Studs: Right here!

~~~He vehemently points at the monitor.~~~

Jizz: Ummm, didn’t you know this before you sat here today? I mean, weren’t you like there or something?

Studs: Huh? Are you fuckin’ stupid?

Connie: Sometimes I think I am.

~~~Connie leaves, but quickly returns with one of those novelty t-shirts with the big, handless, pointing glove that reads, “I’m with Stupid” over it. She stands next to Steve and says nothing for a minute or two while the glove points at him.~~~

Jizz: I know what you mean, girl!

Studs: Are you bitches finished? Let me explain. You see, we’re not real. Ya dig? You two are a couple of tramps some pickle head in North Carolina thought would be dream chicks to him circa 1999. I don’t really wrestle. I’m a parody. You gals are fake, too.

~~~Connie squeezes her ample breasts.~~~

Connie: I don’t know. I feel pretty REAL to me.

Studs: I can see this shit is fuckin’ pointless. So let’s skip the explainin’ and get down to some fuckin’ bizness.

~~~He stands from the computer and faces his highly sexual, minus the zany misunderstandings and wacky goings-on, 2/3 of this Three’s Company.~~~

Studs: I got a free pass back into the tournament since Joe whatever the fuck his name was got hurt, but now Trey has booked me against Sarah. Know what that means?

Connie: No.

Jizz: Me either.

Studs: It means I’m FUCKED! Trey ain’t gonna book me over his bitch. I was hopin’ that, ya know, bros before hos would come into effect but I’m not sure that it will.

Connie: Is that like dicks before chicks?

Studs: I’m I Axl? No, it’s not anythin’ like dicks before fuckin’ chicks. Bros before hos means you pick your buddy over some snatch when the shit gets thick. When the chips are down, you pick your pal over some deep thigh gash.

Jizz: That sounds kinda gay, Steve.

Studs: It ain’t fuckin’ gay! Dudes do it all the time. Go to the game with your buddy and drink beer, or stay at home watchin’ some motherfuckin’ bullshit like Sleepless in Seattle with a stank bimbo? Bros before hos! But I don’t think Trey is gonna go bro. I think he’s gonna go ho. I’m fucked.

Jizz: That would make me think bro before ho if YOU’RE fucked. Get it? Huh? You get it?

Studs: Bitch. Just shut your fuckin’ pie hole and look nice, okay? That’s all you’re really supposed to do. Look good. Shut the fuck up.

Connie: Does any of this matter, the thing with Trey and Sarah?

Studs: Yes, it fuckin’ matters! I got it all figured out. You see, we’re down to the final eight goin’ into UnFOURgiven. Me, Sarah, Trey, Kevin, Plants, Paradox, The Great, and Dr. Thrilla. Now then, I don’t know much about this guy that calls himself The Great, other than he has a dumb fuckin’ name. He’s got Dr. Thrilla. That’s a toss up in my book, ain’t neither one of them worth a fuck.

Jizz: But didn’t Thrilla just beat you?

Studs: ANY-way. Plants and Paradox got paired up to face Trey and Kevin. Now, Trey wouldn’t advance himself with the possibility of havin’ to face Sarah, and besides, look at his fuckin’ partner. He can barely see over the gatdamn rim of his roster pic box. Not only that, all the little motherfucker does is light shit on fire and get pinned by shit that shouldn’t be pinnin’ shit. 99 fuckin’ percent of the stuff that pins him ain’t even breathin’. Plants and Paradox should move on, if they don’t kill each other in the process.

Connie: Okay? So?

Studs: So that leaves Sarah against me. Since Trey will most likely not make the final, you know gatdamn well Sarah will. So, I’m fucked. Jobbed to a slit, by my best friend. Ain’t that some fuckin’ shit?

Jizz: You don’t know that. You can win, right?

Studs: Are you even fuckin’ listenin’ to me? I don’t stand a chance. And that fucks up my plans to keep SMP from winning. Maybe I’ll just do a run-in durin’ his match and make sure Trey and Kevin win.

Connie: Why do you care if Plants wins? Why would you want to stop him? What’d he do to you?

Studs: He didn’t do anythin’ to me, but I sure did somethin’ to somebody. Somebody he’s jonesing for. Ya dig?

Jizz: I’m confused.

Studs: We know that. Trust me, we fuckin’ know that. Look, in a fuckin’ nutshell, Nurse Heidi and I went out, we had a camera, I gave Heidi the tape cause I have like 2000 of them hidden around here from you bitches, Heidi got nervous, got a floor safe, jerked off The Flunky and got an extra set of keys to BOB’s prop closet, wrote the safe combination across the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS, the NGETFA tag-team titles, and the Swiss Army Title, put the tape in the safe, told Plants she’d come clean about the tape if he won the Grand Slam tournament and won all four titles, which is about as likely as Hillary fuckin’ Clinton as president, and here we are. I have to stop The Doc from getting his hands on those four titles, it’s the only way he can line up the combination. And then he’ll know.

Connie: Know what?

Studs: What’s on the fuckin’ tape.

Jizz: So what’s on it?

Studs: I just told you.

Connie: No you didn’t, you just said “the fuckin’ tape”.

Studs: Yes.

Jizz: Yes, what?

Studs: That’s it.

Connie: What’s it?

Studs: Who’s on first.

Jizz: Huh?

Studs: No, he’s in the bleachers getting a blowjob. Heh.

Connie: Stop it, Steve! You’re being a child! What’s on that tape?

Studs: You wanna know? I guess you bitches just became fans of Silaconne M. Plants, huh?

Jizz: We already are!

~~~Both girls squeeze their tits~~~

Studs: The OTHER Silaconne M. Plants! The DOCTOR! FUCK! The only way ANYBODY is gonna find out what’s on that tape is if SMP wins all the belts at UnFOURgiven, line them up in the precise configuration, and decode the safe combination. And since he hasn’t won the fuckin’ OWTTM in like, forty fuckin’ years of tryin’, I think the secret is safe. In the safe. Ya dig?

Connie: Go Plants! We want to know what’s on the tape!

Jizz: Yeah! Whoo! Go SMP! Umm, who’s SMP?

Studs: Heh. One other thing before I get off here. Jerry Li, do you ever read a fuckin’ show? You had my picture in your locker room at !MPLOSION! 6 lustin’ over me and pickin’ out slutty bikinis to wear, then I rough you up a bit, like you like it, you save me from getting stabbed to death by Paradox, and then you didn’t even mention me in any of your promos, bitch. What the fuck? Follow the story lines, you metal faced chink. We could’ve already fucked by now.

Connie: Steve? We totally heard that.

Studs: Oh, did I say that out loud? I was just kiddin’. Yeah, that’s it.
Sarah? I may not beat you at !MPLOSION! 7, but I sure am gonna try and beat you up until your fallopian tubes bleed, you conniving, friend splittin’ hussy! Sometimes when you win, you lose. Ya dig?

You might advance, but there won’t be anything left of you for the championship match… that’s not an idle threat, a promise, or a fuckin’ guarantee.

That bitch, IS….. A….. FACT!

Your bad luck day just got a whole lot fuckin’ worse.

Because I’m Steve Studnuts, and you’re not.



rant , , , , , , , , ,

Direct Provocation

May 30th, 2008
Comments Off on Direct Provocation

Mr. Paradox

*In a low-rent apartment in South Dakota, Mr. Paradox is gluing the plaster statue of Godzilla 2000 back together after the Stonecutter delivered to it at iMPLOSION. He is wearing a particle mask and goggles, but his eyes are still visible and narrow with anger.*

Mr. Paradox: God damn it. StompTokyo will have my legs broken for this one.

Dr. Thrilla

*Elsewhere in the apartment, presumably in a room not reached by the fumes and plaster dust, Dr. Thrilla is polishing his beartrap, wearing his Thrilla Life outfit, as Cecil sorts a set of index cards. He turns to the camera and begins to clang.*

Dr. Thrilla: *rhythmic, threatening metal clanging*

Cecil: The doctor notes that his next match will be against the Great. He has this to say.

Dr. Thrilla: *obscene, angry metal clanging*

Cecil: Any man who would force his own son to appear in BOB promos is an abomination of a human being. The Great does not deserve a chance at any titles.

Dr. Thrilla: *threatening metal clanging*

Cecil: When the Doctor is through with you, you’d best hope your son has good decision-making skills, because he’ll be sending you to a nursing home.

Dr. Thrilla: *mocking metal clanging*

Cecil: And to Pete Trable, you make ICP look like the Beastie Boys. You haven’t done a decent rap song since the days you still feuded with Atomo.

Dr. Thrilla: *flashes a gang sign, concluding metal clanging*

Cecil: Peace.

*In the main room, the statue is now repaired, and Mr. Paradox turns to the camera, still in particle mask and goggles.*

Mr. Paradox: Trey, Kevin… I’m thinking of making a bet with Dr. Plants. We pick one of you, he uses a scalpel, I use a sword, and the one who leaves his target less recognizable wins. I don’t make bets I can’t win, either…

rant , , , , , , , , , , ,

A Moment With The Champion

May 15th, 2008
Comments Off on A Moment With The Champion

Dr. Thrilla

*Dr. Thrilla appears in the middle of an empty bar (any bar is empty when he’s in it), wearing the Swiss Army Belt around his waist and drinking from a large wooden mug. It’s unclear what, exactly, is in it. Cecil sits next to him, sipping a martini and trying not to stare, and Mr. Paradox winds a bandage around his leg.*

Mr. Paradox

Mr. Paradox: Those piercings hurt like a bitch when Jerri Li spears you. Ow…

Cecil: One would think someone who uses a sword for an illegal weapon would be used to lacerations.

Mr. Paradox: Doesn’t mean they stop hurting. Especially when they’re above my scar tissue.

Dr. Thrilla: *half-drunken metal clanging*

Mr. Paradox: Not funny, Thrilla.

Dr. Thrilla: *laughing metal clanging*

Mr. Paradox: Screw you. I used to be a champion, you know.

Cecil: Yes, because you booked the match you won it in.

Dr. Thrilla: *sigh, romantic metal clanging*

Mr. Paradox: You know the girl’s not really interested, right? She went to Steve Studnuts just to get beaten up.

Dr. Thrilla: *in-denial metal clanging*

Mr. Paradox: Hey, it’s what you get when you try to date a full-blown masochist. Don’t cry to me when she dumps you for a torturer.

*Dr. Thrilla begins clanging the melody of “I Love You Baby”, and Mr. Paradox sighs, getting himself a beer.*

rant , , , , , , , ,

Speaking his language

May 9th, 2008
Comments Off on Speaking his language

Steve Studnuts

~~~Steve Studnuts is singing as Connie Lingus walks in~~~

Studs: …..and I’m proud to be an A-MER-I-CAN!
That can get pussy for free.
And I won’t forget the MEN WHO DIED!
That means for puss for me…

From behind, with a dick that’s cleaner than Treeeeeeeeeeey’s
‘Cause there ain’t no doubt, I love PUS-SAAAAAAAAY!

Thank God, that— I’m— not—– gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!

Connie: Steve, you really are one note. Aren’t you?

Studs: What the fuck? I can carry a tune! But I’ll save that for another day. Ya dig? I need you to do somethin’ for me.

Connie: I’m not going to sing backup.

Studs: Oh no, this is easy. Even you can handle it. Stand over here by me and hold these fuckin’ cards. Okay? Every ten seconds or so, after I make wet pussy noises by pinchin’ my cheek and pullin’ it quickly over and over to make my mouth flap, show the marks the cards to translate what I say. Just like Dr. Thrilla does with that faggot Cecil. I’m gonna communicate on Thrilla’s level, so the mother fucker can understand me.

Connie: Are you serious? I mean really?

Studs: Sure! He fuckin’ metal clangs, that’s what he does. I’ll simulate the juicy sounds of pussy gettin ribbed out by my ginormous dong sausage….’cause that’s what I do.

Connie: This is very immature, Steve.

Studs: So? Just hold the fuckin’ cards. And don’t read them. I’ll be Jay, and you’ll be like that fuckin’ Silent Bob guy, okay?

Connie: Okay. I guess? Hand me the cards…

Studs: Fuck yeah! Here we go, get that first fuckin’ card ready!

~~~Steve pinches his cheek quickly and pulls on it back and forth~~~

* cheek induced simulated sounds of moistened pussy getting boned *

~~~Connie holds up the cards, you can now read the first one~~~


* cheek induced simulated sounds of moistened pussy getting boned *

~~~Connie drops the first card, you can now read the next one. This process will be repeated numerous times.~~~


* cheek induced simulated sounds of moistened pussy getting boned *


* cheek induced simulated sounds of moistened pussy getting boned *


* cheek induced simulated sounds of moistened pussy getting boned *


~~~Steve now begins to simulate jerking off.~~~


* simulated masturbation *


* simulated masturbation *


* simulated doggy style humping gesture *
* simulated doggy style humping gesture *
* simulated doggy style humping gesture *


* shoots you the bird *



rant , , , ,

Weapons of Choice

May 5th, 2008
Comments Off on Weapons of Choice

Mr. Paradox

*In a garage somewhere in South Dakota, Mr. Paradox and Dr. Thrilla are standing amid a rather large pile of junk.*

Mr. Paradox: Thrilla, if you’re going to battle Steve Studnuts on an even level, we’ll have to establish what you can do and what he can do.

Dr. Thrilla: *metal clanging*

Dr. Thrilla

Mr. Paradox: Exactly. Now, both of you are heels, but you’re different types. He’s a rude dick heel. You’re a cheating monster heel. Attempting to sink to his level will just cost you fan support.

Dr. Thrilla: *questioning metal clanging*

Mr. Paradox: Trust me, I used to fight him, Thrilla Life won’t get you anywhere. That’s why, if you want to win the fight, you’ll have to play to your own strengths. Illegal weapons will be key to this. I’ve gathered a few here… Cecil!

*Cecil rolls a large, old-fashioned cannon into view.*

Mr. Paradox: This is an antique from BOB’s past. It’s the sheep-loaded cannon Pzremslwvk used against the Universal Donors back in 1999… I have one of the sweaters from that night.

Dr. Thrilla: *confused metal clanging*

Mr. Paradox: Yes, that explains the bits of wool on the fuse. Either way, we don’t have any sheep, but I was thinking we could fire Cecil out of it.

Cecil: No, thank you, sir.

*Mr. Paradox now takes out a Singapore cane.*

Mr. Paradox: This is Tommy Dreamer’s old trademark. Doesn’t really do much damage, but it makes a good noise.

Dr. Thrilla: *suggesting metal clanging*

Mr. Paradox: I considered that, but it turns out the vines from “The Ruins” don’t actually exist. Damn. *tosses it aside and holds up a large metal sign*

Dr. Thrilla: *rubs hands together, eager metal clanging*

Mr. Paradox: Thought you’d like this. It’s an “Adopt-a-Highway” sign. Folds pretty easily, but that just increases the damage potential.

Dr. Thrilla: *suggesting metal clanging, gestures to the cannon*

Mr. Paradox: Fire it out of the cannon? There’s an idea…

Cecil: Or we could just do a run-in.

Mr. Paradox: I read The Death of WCW again this weekend. No thanks. It didn’t do the nWo much good in the long run…

*Cut to black.*

rant , , , , , ,

An attempt to find purpose

April 19th, 2008
Comments Off on An attempt to find purpose

Mr. Paradox

*In South Dakota, Mr. Paradox and Dr. Thrilla are playing gin rummy, Cecil sitting on the sidelines. Mr. Paradox sighs.*

Mr. Paradox: Sometimes I wonder… what exactly am I in the company now? Face or heel?

Dr. Thrilla: *metal clanging*

Dr. Thrilla

Cecil: The doctor always assuemd you were a heel.

Mr. Paradox: That’s what I used to think, but aside from occasionally threatening the bookers and using a sword in the ring, I don’t do anything really heelish. But I’m not really a face, either. I don’t get face pop.

Dr. Thrilla: *metal clanging*

Cecil: You do seem to focus more on personal gain than on screwing anyone over, with the exception of Steve Studnuts.

Mr. Paradox: And he’s a heel. Heel/heel feuds aren’t unheard of, but…

Dr. Thrilla: *metal clanging*

Mr. Paradox: You know, doctor, you’re right. That’s what I am. I’m a Do-What-I-Feel-Like tweener.

Dr. Thrilla: *metal clanging*

Cecil: The doctor wonders what he is.

Mr. Paradox: You’re a heel.

Dr. Thrilla: *metal clanging*

Mr. Paradox: Yes, I’m sure. To be frank, doctor… you’re ugly. Men with bear traps for teeth are never faces, even if they don’t use street signs as weapons.

Dr. Thrilla: *metal clanging*

Mr. Paradox: Yes, Thrilla LIfe is a heel, too.

*The camera cuts off.*

rant , , , , , ,


April 7th, 2008
Comments Off on Meditation

Mr. Paradox

*Three men sit side-by-side in the lotus position, holding their arms out at their sides. Dr. Thrilla is on the left, Cecil on the right, and Mr. Paradox in the middle. They sit on a blanket atop a layer of snow.*

Mr. Paradox: We are not at a loss for things to do this promo…

Dr. Thrilla

Dr. Thrilla: *reflective metal clanging*

Cecil: The doctor says, “Ommmmmm…”

*They lift their hands over their heads as rain pours down.*

Mr. Paradox: We will crush the Snapmare Kid like an insect…

Dr. Thrilla: *reflective metal clanging*

Cecil: The doctor says, “Ommmmmm…”

*Their hands reach in front of them as they sit on hardened ground, the sun shining down.*

Mr. Paradox: We will continue to do promos even with our bitchy connection…

Dr. Thrilla: *reflective metal clanging*

Cecil: The doctor says, “Ommmmmm…”

*They stand, ankle-deep in mud.*

Mr. Paradox: Spring in Minnesota is weird.

Dr. Thrilla: *reflective metal clanging*

Cecil: No need to do that anymore, doctor.

rant , , , , , ,