Posts Tagged ‘Kurt Angel’

The Gyant Report: ThreatDown!

December 12th, 2008
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Kobe Gyant

A giant logo fills the screen. It’s so big you can’t even read it all, unless by some fluke you have Kobe’s huge television, but that would be impossible because that would mean you ARE Kobe. But I digress… The words The Gyant Report are in gold over a purply background. Fade into Kobe Gyant, who is seated behind a non-descript desk as deafening cheers are heard, so deafening you’d think they were recorded at a football stadium, but no, Kobe is just a giant draw for random unpaid studio audiences. He is styling in a gray wool cap, gray suit jacket, gray scarf, and a beige vest over his #99 Los Santos basketball jersey. Because, you know, he’s a rookie indy wrestler and high school basketball legend, so he’s loaded and can afford fancy outfits, you know.

<--Kobe Gyant-->

Welcome back to “The Gyant Report” everyone. I don’t want to scare you, but I have to. This is the ThreatDown!

A graphic pops up on the screen with a countdown screen and a siren blaring in the background. As we return to Kobe, a picture of American Panda is seen over his left shoulder.

<--Kobe Gyant-->

Threat number 3: Bears! Specifically, American Panda, the BOB’s latest substar. When I first heard about American Panda, I thought, great. We’re finally sticking it to China by having some guy steal their culture while wrestling in a panda suit. But no. It’s an actual panda, people! On one episode of iMPLOSION, he ate Luke Warm. He’s been farting Texan for weeks, stinking up the whole locker room.

This godless killing machine wants to eat my jugular at MegaBrawl II. Now I understand there is a bamboo shortage, but still, I say no, sir. My blood may taste like the finest wine, but you will never get the pleasure of tasting Kobe Vintage 2008. Unless you somehow magically transform into a super hot vampiress with huge gazungas, I don’t neck with men. In conclusion, just like the Atlanta Zoo can no longer afford it’s panda cam, The BOB cannot afford to have American Panda main eventing for the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS.

A picture of Kurt Angel now appears over Kobe’s left shoulder.

<--Kobe Gyant-->

Threat number 2: Angels! No, I’m not talking about K-Rod going to the Mets. I’m talking about one specific Angel. The BOB’s Kurt Angel. Angels are supposed to be messengers of God, while this man appears to be a messenger of that dude from “Pineapple Express”. And trust me, Seth Rogan is not god. If he were, he would’ve gotten Elizabeth Banks to get butt naked in “Zack and Miri make a Porno.”

And Kurt, contrary to what old black and white movies will tell you, it’s not every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings. It’s every time a bell rings, an Angel gets defeated by Kobe Gyant, son! You ain’t gonna be the number one contender for the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS. And speaking of non-contenders…

A picture of The Great replaces Kurt’s picture over Kobe’s left shoulder.

<--Kobe Gyant-->

Threat number one: The Great. Oh yes, Kobe Gyant has looked over your past Rants, The Great. This is a man who has done more doping than the entire Minnesota Vikings defensive line combined! And yet the people cheer this man? Well, The Great, they won’t be cheering you once they see you as the little man you are when compared to Kobe Gyant in the spotlight at the biggest show of them all, MegaBrawl II, son. You’re gonna go down harder than every Denver Broncos running back this year combined with every Spinal Tap drummer ever.

Kobe reaches under the desk.

<--Kobe Gyant-->

There’s more talent in one of my brand new Kobe V.V. (Kobe says Version Five, not two V’s) shoes, now available from shoe gyant Ekin, at stores nationwide that carry the awesome Ekin brand. The Great, you’re about to face an All Star and see first hand why you’re just a bench warmer. Kobe Gyant is gonna lay some voodoo down on you.

Now Kobe brings up a tennis racket from under his desk.

<--Kobe Gyant-->

I’ma sell this bad boy on eBay after it’s covered in blood from me bashing your head in with it, then I’ma sign it, and I’ll be rich, bitch! Just keep hangin’ with that dude who thinks he’s black. You about to feel some real black power. And that’s the wørd. Oh wait. Wrong rip-off. Peace! From the next ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS Kobe space Gyant period! Good night.

Cue closing credits.

Kobe Gyant

Written By
Kobe Gyant

Produced By
Kobe Gyant

©2008 Face/Heel Partners Unlimited

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The Fall of the Hierarchy – part 1

November 17th, 2008
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[The camera opens upon a guillotine… standing ominously in the center of the Castle’s front yard.]

[Many of the townspeople have gathered around. Bakers … car dealers… resteraunt owners… even the chief of police.]

[Four people stand behind the guillotine… their hands and feet shackled, and their faces awash in terror…]

[Former Hierarchy member, Tony Spaghetti.]

[Owner of the local pizza parlor, Mario Spaghetti.]

[Roving Reporter for Sinister Newz, Rebecca Mulesworth.]

[And snOw, sister of former Hierarchy member raYne.]

[Sinister Newz anchorman CJ Mathews had reported earlier on in the day that tonight, these four men and women shall be stripped of their life. They have all spent the day… every passing hour… feeling their lives slip away.]

Sir Lancelot: Ladies and gentlemen… It is my great honor to now present to you… your highness… his majesty… THE KING!

[Suddenly, an Elvis impersonator runs out from the crowd, and begins to gyrate, as the audience chortles.]

Sir Lancelot: GUARDS!!! Remove this swine from the courtyard, and toss him into the dungeon!

“Elvis”: Thank ya, thank ya very- HEY! Watch it with that sword son, yer bruisin’ muh hunka-hunka-burnin’-ass!

[A trio of guards drag the Elvis impersonator away from the scene, heading toward the dungeon to lock him up.]

Sir Lancelot: Now… the one TRUE king… KING AXXXLLL!!!

[A pair of spotlights shine through the night, as the drawbridge lowers. Knights standing upon the castle’s turrets drop confetti down upon the ground below, as the sounds of trumpets and drums fill the air.]

[A commentary desk has been set up beside the moat.]

Wes Rivers: Hello sports fans, and welcome to the first annual Beheading-Mania!!! Heads will roll! This night is sure to be filled with blood, blood, more blood, and October Surprises!

JJ Mynuz: Yo, yo, yo bro…. It’s November.

Wes Rivers: Ah… so it is. In that case, this night is sure to be filled with November… uh… SHOCKING TWISTS!

JJ Mynuz: Yo, yo, yo… Why’d I have to replace Rex Winters again?

Wes Rivers: Because he couldn’t afford a plane ticket out of hell. They’re expensive this time of year.

JJ Mynuz: Yo dawg, dat’s some fxed up crazy sheet right durr.

Wes Rivers: Indeed.

[“King” Axl steps through the massive door… a solemn expression spread over his face. He is obviously still healing from the attack his brother dished out to him. I say “obviously”, mainly due to the fact that instead of carrying a king’s scepter, Axl is carrying a crutch, which he uses to slowly make his way across the drawbridge. Axl breathes heavily with every step he takes… his rusty crown barely staying atop his head, as every time he moves his entire body shakes in pain. His long, tattered and torn robe whips harshly in the cold November wind. The corners of his eyes swell with tears, as he tries desperately to endure the aches in his back and the pounding in his head. Axl finally makes it to the front of the towns people… and he stares at them. He stares and he stares, without muttering a single word. He knows deep down within his soul that not a one of them care for him… And that they’d rather see him die before living another year with him as their mayor. And yet, Axl holds back these thoughts… insisting to believe within his mind that they all adore him.]

[That they are his flock… and he is their shephard.]

Axl: Citizens of the Sinister Kingdom… a dark day has descended upon us. My brother… my very own flesh and blood brother… has betrayed not only me, but this entire city. First? He released the most vile, contemptuous criminal in the Kingdom, without even a moment’s notice… not letting a soul know, and allowing for the wretched bird to come and go from the castle dungeon as he pleased. I had come to believe that the man known as Pigeon was well taken care of, locked away within this castle’s dungeon… when in fact, he had free pass all along to come and go as he wished. And now? NOW?! My brother… he has stabbed me in the back. And not only has he stabbed me in the back, but he’s dug the dagger deep into my skin, and drawn it downward… alongside my spine, and allowing for the blood to flow freely.

Axl: My brother… is now my most sworn enemy.

Axl: And I will not rest until he is no more.

Wes Rivers: Stirring words from our King, wouldn’t you say JJ?

JJ Mynuz: No diggity, no doubt bay-bee! What what! Word to yo’ gram gram!

Wes Rivers: … Yeah, that is a pretty lame line when you think about it.

JJ Mynuz: Jigga-wha’?

[Axl hears the talking between the two “commentators”, and can’t help but turn his attention to the duo.]

Wes: It appears as though our esteemed mayor is looking in our very direction!

JJ: Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, YO! … Wassssaaaappppp! Yo, King, how’s ’bout you an’ me go shoot some hoops aftah dis speech you layin’ down fah deez clowns? I’ll bet you fiddy bucks I can beat yo’ ass in one on one! I’mma rake them benjamins in like they red an’ yellah leaves, ya hurrrd me?! Damn straight, I’mma pick up that cash flow, ya know, cuz it’s all about dat money, money, yeah, yeah! Lemme hear yall say it! It’s about dat money, money –

Crowd: …

JJ: Dat money, money –

Crowd: …

JJ: … Ya know what, fuck yall. I’m goin’ back tah West Newberry… I’m like da only black guy there, but atleast they respect my black ass! My rap skills may suck, but atleast I’m bettah on da mic than dat John Semen foo’… Peace in!

[JJ removes himself from the desk, and walks off.]

Wes: Well… maybe I should send Rex a cab. I’m sure the fare out of hell isn’t THAT much… Not so sure about the fare back TO hell… Cabbies aren’t usually as eager for that trip.

Axl: WES! I could have sworn I got rid of you a long, LONG time ago! Now, since you’re right next to the damn moat… I think it’s time you met my friend Wally.

Wes: Wally? Is he you’re life partner?

Axl: I AM NOT GAY!!!

Wes: Oh, it’s fine Axl! I mean, now that Michelle’s out of the picture, you’ve gotta have SOMEONE. There’s nothing wrong if that someone happens to have a penis twice as long as your baby carrot dick.

Axl: ARRGGH!!! Meet Wally… Wally GATOR!

[Axl drops the crutch, and kicks Wes’ desk back into the commentator’s chest, knocking both him and the table into the moat, ala the movie “300”… only if that scene were played out between a guy sitting behind a desk and a flaming homosexual.]


> > > Flash Report From Sinister Newz < < < CJ Mathews: Folks, I've just received word that Viruz, the brother of our city's King, has called in the feuding brothers' father, Judas Van Halen. Judas has promised to lend his 100% support to the younger of the two brothers, as he says our mayor, Axl, has never shown him the respect a father deserves. He's told Sinister Newz that "after busting his ass for Axl when he was a kid, providing him with a home, three meals a day, and all the love a dad can give, THIS is the way Axl repays him?" Sue Bastian Bach, Viruz and Axl's mother, and our city's former mayor, issued a rebuttle ; "Judas, you do remember we sold Axl for concert tickets... right? We never even saw him until he was a part of BoB!", to which Judas responded, "...Oh." Judas remains on the side of Viruz, and in a great show of support, Judas will be standing at ringside during Viruz's match against his older brother. Sue responded to this by simply stating that she has always loved her son Axl, no matter what he has done... and that she WILL stand at ringside, in his corner, as he takes on his younger brother, December 6th at MegaBrawl 2, live and only on On-Demand. The event will be hosted from the gorgeous outdoor Sin City Stadium, and will be the grandest spectacle of the year for Brawlers on a Budget. Now back to your regularly scheduled long-ass rant. > > > End Flash Report < < < Axl: AND ANOTHER THING - [Hey, could ya hurry this up, it's already 6am, and I really don't feel like writing 2 more hours worth of crappy dialogue.] Axl: >:^(

[ :^P ]

Axl: Fine! Ladies and gentlefolk, I have brought out all four of my prisoners here upon this night. Up until October Surprise, I had planned on allowing them to slowly rot away… giving them a lifetime of torture and dreadful meals, so that I can spend the rest of my life returning to them the hell they put me through. But, after seeing Pigeon escape so easily from his chains…

[The Elvis impersonator is seen running out of the dungeon and toward the castle gates… shouting “Axl ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog!” all the way home.]

Axl: I really need to buy better prison chains… The generic brand just isn’t cutting it. … Anyway, seeing as it’s so hard to keep good prisoners these days… I’ve decided to do away with them here and now. Tonight, each of these four will meet their fate. A grisly fate, which you are all well aware of from the guillotine you see before your eyes. Allow this display tonight to be a lesson to you all. Do not follow in the footsteps of these four… nor the footsteps of that bastard brother of mine. I took him into my home… I allowed him to bask in my glow. I gave him the chance to team with ME, a God amongst mortal men… and to eat, sleep, and drink here, within the confines of the most grandiose palace in all of the kingdoms of all the world.

Axl: I gave my very SOUL to my brother.

Axl: And how did he repay me? By costing me a match with American Panda… By kicking me in the FACE… and by putting me in a match against him, with my career on the line!

Axl: Viruz… wherever you are… When MegaBrawl arrives, I will release upon you the frustrations I’ve let bottle up within for far too long… I will savor every scratch I leave upon your body… I will relish in your ruin…

Axl: And I will watch my hands grip themselves around your throat… and choke the air from your lungs… and finish you. Once and for all.

Axl: People of Sinister City… do not follow in these four people’s footsteps… but most of all, do not follow in those of Viruz. For if you do? You shall meet with the very same fate as them.

Axl: Death… at my hands.

Axl: The Hierarchy is dead. Long live the King.

[Axl snaps his fingers, and Lancelot grabs snOw by the back of her hair… shoving her head into the guillotine, and locking it down, so she may not move.]

[Axl lowers down beside her, and growls in her face… speaking venomously… spitting in her face with every word.]

Axl: It’ll be my pleasure to take your life first, snOw. All that you represent… the same level of raging homosexuality that your brother possesses. It SICKENS me. After years of hearing everyone label me a queer, it’s become one of my life’s goals to remove every last gay man, lesbian woman, and bisexual WHATEVER from the face of this earth. Seeing as I won’t have the chance with your brother… I guess I’ll have to start with you.

Axl: See you in hell.

[Axl stands and raises a thumb to the air. The executioner holds the rope connected to the blade… Axl turns his thumb over, signalling downward. The executioner releases the rope, sending the blade down… down… and finally – ]

> > > Flash Report From Sinister Newz < < < CJ Mathews: Folks, I've just received word from the city council members, that due to our current mayor beheading one of the town's citizens just as this report began, he is hereby stripped of his position as mayor! > > > End Flash Report < < < Axl: ... They can't do that! > > > Flash Report From Sinister Newz < < < CJ Mathews: This just in - Yeah. They can. Effective immediately, Axl has been ousted from his position as mayor, due to rampant acts of stupidity, as well as being a total jackass. I mean, come on, seriously, who cuts some chick's head off simply because she's a lesbian? Sounds like something some evangelical goon like Jerry Falwell would consider. You know, if he weren't dead. An election has been ordered, and will take place in the later part of this rant. For Sinister News, I'm CJ Mathews saying, fuck you Axl, may you burn like a cockroach in a microwave. > > > End Flash Report < < < Axl: ... GODDAMIT!!! You people can't do this!!! You love me! You know it, I know it, this whole damn city knows it! Every last one of you worship the ground I walk on! Citizen in the Third Row: Actually... no. We don't. Axl: ... Well. Atleast I still have my beautiful castle! [Suddenly, a humongous wrecking ball soars through the air, colliding with the huge castle... and instantly wipes it to the ground. Axl only hears the impact... but when he turns around and sees the damage which has been done, he drops to his knees.] Axl: No... NOOO!!! This... this can't be happening. I've lost my girlfriend... I've lost my home... I've lost the mayorship... I've lost the Hierarchy... I've lost on Jeopardy. *rimshot* Axl: And my brother... he's deserted me. I just keep losing and losing... and losing. Axl: ... [Axl remains on his knees... staring off into the wreckage that used to be his castle.] ???: The King is dead, I suppose. Axl: ... Is... is that an angel? ???: Nah. He left your butt too. Kurt's gone... but I'm here. Axl: Wait a minute... I know that voice! [Axl stands up... Huh, maybe his mom's already arrived. Ready to throw her support behind her baby boy at the biggest show of the year. Isn't that speeecial... ] [Axl rises to his feet, turns around, and... hold the phone...] Axl: TIFA!!! Am I ever glad to see you! Tifa Bon Jovi: You better be. I think I have a deal that's going to pull your career out of the gutter it's been in for the past... year. Make that two. By the way, narrator boy. The last name's WITHERSPOON. Axl made me change it to Bon Jovi. But from now on, Axe? I'll be the one telling YOU what to do, capice? Axl: Hey, if you think you can help me, I'll call you anything your little heart desires. ;^) Tifa: You can call me "agent", because from now on, that's what I'll be. I need you to be the client that saves my so-far crummy agency. And the first step to doing that - [Tifa reaches into her pocket and pulls out an iPod.] Tifa: - is this baby right here. [Tifa hands this over to Axl... who looks at it strangely.] Axl: Uhm... what exactly am I supposed to do with an iPod? Tifa: Listen to music. Duh. Axl: -_- Tifa: But seriously. I've got about twenty two tracks on that thing. And each and every one of them is "Anywhere Is", by Enya. And it's on an infinite loop. All you have to do is shove the headphones into your ears, press play, and Anywhere YOU Is? That's where "Anywhere Is" is! :^D Axl: Tifa... you're a fucking GENIUS. It's gonna be a pleasure having you work for me. Tifa: Erm, correction. You'll be working for ME. Whatever I tell you to do, you'll do. Otherwise, your career is going to go down the drain faster than a turd in a vaccum. Axl: Well fine. But I just want you to do one thing for me. Tifa: And what's that? Axl: Show me the money. Tifa: ... What? Axl: I said... show me the money. Tifa: What money? Axl: ... No, you're supposed to SAY it. Say, "Show me the money". Tifa: No. Axl: Oh come on! Say it Tifa! You know you wanna! Say, "Show me the money!" Tifa: UGH... Show me the money. There, now can we please jet? If I'm ever going to save your career, I'm going to need to do a whole helluva lot of work... Axl: Not yet! I need you to say it, one more time, with feeling! Show me the money!!! Tifa: ... Show me the money!!! Axl: Again, and louder! SHOW ME THE MONEY!!! Tifa: SHOW ME THE MON-AAAYYY!!! Axl: Yeah! Now say it one more time, this time while I'm grabbing onto your boobies! Tifa: -_- Axl: Er... Tifa: Axl... If I didn't need you, you'd be lying flat on your ass right now. Axl: Just one boobie? Tifa: AXL!!! Axl: Sorry. |continued|

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There’s No Booze In Hell

September 3rd, 2008
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[A bar? But not just any bar. This is the bar where Death got his big break in the wrestling business. He appeared in his first wrestling promo at this bar many years ago. OK, “big break” is probably pushing it, considering the promo appeared in Metal Edge Wrestling. But you have to start at the bottom, right? Anyway, it looks even more piss stained and decrepit than it did then. The bar area is empty, except for one tall figure wearing a cloak. A bony hand snatches a bottle of beer off the bar. After guzzling it for several seconds, Death’s custom-made cloak is soaked with beer.]

Death: You know….

[Death knee lifts the bar and notices he’s all wet.]

Death: Sonofa! Who stole my skin! BWAHAHAHAHA!

Bartender: Alright, buddy. I think you’ve had just about—

[Death put a bony finger against the man’s throat. Throat cancer. Instant death.]

Voice: The bartender’s dead! LET’S RIOT!

[Sounds of stampeding drunks and crashing furniture.]

Death: Uh oh.

[8 hours later. We return to the scene. Bodies are down everywhere. Looks like Death was busy.]

Death: Me? They did it to themselves. Well, except for that old guy there. He just really annoyed me. Well, now I know why they call them riots. That was hilarious! Although, now there’s not a drop of booze left in the place! Pure hell, right, Trey? It’s like your worst nightmare. A bar without beer. That’s exactly what it’s gonna be like for you at Running On Empty, buddy. Mr. Sports Entertainment Icon. Mr. Franchise Player. Mr. Vice President in Charge of Everything.

Death: Everyone knows I was the brains behind the Skull & Bones Society. And with my newest buddy, Kurt Angel, you know, that guy who beat you for the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS before he ascended to Heaven, a.k.a., Action Wrestling? We’ve formed the Skull & Stoned Society. Theoretically. Not that we’ve worked out any details, but I’m pretty sure we’re cool. I’ll have to check with the guy who runs this place. And I’m not talking about YOU, Trey. You’re just a puppet. And it’s a good thing I’ve got the right to bear arms, cuz I’m shooting, baby!

Death: Anyway…you’re scum. Yadda yadda yadda. Trey, after you die, you’ll be sent to sports entertainment hell, where you’ll be forced to watch CircularAnswer Rants for all eternity. I have more talent in my one finger than you have in your whole body. I have a license to kill. Seriously…

[Death digs in his cloak.]

Death: It’s expired? Oh man. Trey, you and my license are gonna have a lot in common! You’re both gonna be expired! Yeah, come and arrest me for killing without a license, copper!

[How much did you have to drink, Death?]

Death: And Zombie Mr. Fantastic! Quit calling my zombie cheerleader nurse wife! For the last time, Katie’s not interested! *Shakes his bony fist in the air*

Death: And Studnuts, don’t think I’ve forgotten about you. Wait, what was I talkin’ about?

[Death tips over. Fade to blackout.]

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Luke Out Below

August 26th, 2008
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Kurt Angel

[Nighttime. A smoke-filled room. Kurt Angel was watching “Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle” when all of a sudden the lights went out.]

KA: Did I just go blind? Oh wait, no, I can still see the movie.

[Kurt grabs his phone and dials a number.]

KA: Hello, phone company? I’d like to report a power outage. My lights just shut off by themselves. Well, duh, if I knew their phone number, I’d call them. Hello? Hello?

[Kurt dials some other numbers.]

KA: Hello, Pizza Hut? I’d like to report a power outage. No, this isn’t a prank call. No, my name isn’t Dave. It’s Kurt. Kurt Angel. What do you mean now you know it’s a joke? It’s not a joke, it’s so not a joke. Hello? Darnitall!

[Kurt grabs the phone’s antenna and, well…locks on a modified Angel Lock.]

KA: I’ll make you tap! Tap! Tap! Tap!

Phone: *Bleep*

[Kurt interprets the “low battery” warning as a submission and drops the move.]

KA: Whoooo!

[Kurt prances around in celebration.]

KA: Who da evil? I’m da evil! The man who pinned Steve Studnuts at Power is Stolen. Not false, not false. If not for the most corrupt Generic Referee on the planet, you would be looking at the number one contender for the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS. Studnuts. Vincent. Harker. The iAd will go down someday. And when you do, you’ll be the ones on your knees before Axl! And not in a gay way, either, busters!

KA: Instead, I’ve got to face Luke. Luke who? Mr. Luke-Hoo himself. Luke Warm. And mister, that plate glass window is gonna feel like the best day of you’re life after I get through with you at…Neil Patrick Harris is the man! Hey, the light went out? Where’s the phone?

Phone: *Bleep*

KA: I better get a ladder and replace that light bulb.

[Kurt gets a ladder and climbs up.]

KA: Come on, bucko!

[Kurt falls off the ladder.]

KA: Ow.

[After a few seconds of “selling the bump,” Kurt’s back up quickly. He unscrews the bulb and belly-to-light bulb suplexes it?]


KA: Ow!

[Need a light bulb?]

KA: Whoa. The walls are talking to me again!

[Yes, yes. Check the table there for a new light bulb. And here goes Kurt up the ladder again. Amazingly, he gets it in. Then, the light goes out.]

KA: The hell?








[Lights on.]


[Kurt is laying at the bottom of the ladder, surrounded by bits of a broken Cheap-Ass™ Guitar. Who attacked Kurt? Who who? Who who? Who attacked Kurt. Who who, who who. I really wanna know…]

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July 29th, 2008
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Kurt Angel


[The scene? Raccoon City. Kurt Angel has an overweight zombie locked in the Angel Lock.]

KA: Tap! Tap! Tap!

Group of Zombies: You suck. Grrr. You suck. Brains.

[Kurt’s cell phone rings.]

KA: Hang on, Zombie Joe, I’ll finish making you tap out in a jiffy. And when did I get a Verizon cell phone? I MUST have been stoned… Hello? Yes, it’s me. Where am I? Where are YOU? And where is that? And how do I get there from here?

[Meanwhile, the zombie is shuffling up to its feet.]

KA: OK. I’ll be there in a few minutes. I’ve got to make this fat Zombie Joe tap out.


KA: Owww! What the? Did you just eat my hair?

Zombie: *Coughcoughhack*

KA: Oh no! A bald spot! This calls for drastic measures. 411? Get me the number for Sy Sperling. Oh, it’s still you, Death? What did you want anyway? Oh, right. Let me just finish off Fat Zombie Joe.

[Kurt hits an Angel Slam on the zombie right into a conveniently placed wood chipper. Insert horror movie sounds of flesh, muscle and bone being shredded in said wood chipper.]

KA: Time to snort some zombie dust. It’s gonna be a hallucination. A DAMN hallucination! *Snort* Now that’s the stuff. Damn, I should’ve saved his head for a bong…Oh well. Next time. Say, Death, you still there? Do you have a razor I can borrow when I come over. I don’t think I can afford to join the Hair Club for Men. Ha ha very funny. It didn’t cost me a damn thing to join the Hierarchy. Yes, just my soul…but I wasn’t using it anyway.

[Fade to blurry.]

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Hail to the Kings.

July 20th, 2008
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[The scene: The Residence of Evil. The time: 10 o’clock PM, July 19th, 2008. Pigeon and Roydz have just entered through the front door, wearing the Sinister City jerseys they wore to the game. The game they lost. The game Axl bet on… and is now more than pissed off about. As Pigeon and Steve make their way toward the living room couch with solemn expressions, Axl leaps from the couch and clutches Pigeon by his t-shirt collar, pinning him to the wall, as Steve shakes in his tennis shoes.]



Pigeon: Dude, seriously, try mouthwash.

Axl: WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?! ARE YOU MOCKNG ME?! Do you understand that I brought you up from being a jobber to a… well, not exactly a main eventer… or even really a mid-carder… BUT ATLEAST YOU’RE NOT MICHELLE’S BITCH!!!

Pigeon: Yeah, now YOU get that privilege!!!

Axl: WHAT?! I am NOT Michelle’s, nor anyone ELSE’S, bitch! When I dropped Rose like a bad habit, I broke off onto my own! Michelle and I are equals! 50/50!!! Isn’t that right, honey!


Michelle: You mean 20/80, sweetie. You’re forgetting I’M the one with the real power around here.

Axl: … 40/60?

Michelle: 20/80.

Axl: … 30/70?

Michelle: 20/80.

Axl: 25/75, FINAL offer.

Michelle: 20/80.

Axl: [turns back to Pigeon] So, as I was saying, me and Michelle are 20/80 partners. EQUALS!!! … More or less.

Michelle: I’m more, you’re less…

Axl: But you, Pigeon? Or anyone ELSE that isn’t named Michelle, Viruz, Kurt or Garth? Well, the Truth is, noone else is on the same level as the Hierarchy. That’s why we’re CALLED the Hierarchy. Because in this business, there’s a certain order one must follow. There’s the jobbers… there’s the mid-carders… there’s the main-eventers… and then? Then, there’s the people like me and Michelle, that look down on eeeeveryone else, and LAUGH, because while they toil… while they pick fights with eachother and scrape and claw and bruise just to reach the heights of mediocrity, WE’RE on an entirely different plane of existence. We’re the shit.

Axl: Everyone else? They’re just… plain… SHIT.

Pigeon: Your breath SMELLS like shit…

Axl: PIGEON! That’s the last word I’ll hear out of you! Quoth Axl… Nothing more! While the OLD Axl just stood by and let people talk down to him, the NEW Axl will be DAMNED if some no-talent, piss-ant, waste of flesh spouts off at the mouth when what he SHOULD be doing is praising me… WORSHIPPING the ground I walk on!

Pigeon: The hell are you goin’ on about?

Axl: Oh? You think I haven’t been watching the replays on G5? Pigeon, you’re PATHETIC. And not to mention rather stupid.

Pigeon: Hey, just because I live in a small cage attached to the basement ceiling doesn’t mean I’m STUPID! I have to avoid the cats SOMEHOW!!!

Axl: … As I was saying, I have concrete evidence that proves you haven’t been calling Hierarchy matches the APPROVED Hierarchy method! I’ve put together an audio recording of your commentary at UnFOURgiven. Michelle, could you load the tape and press play, please?

[Michelle pulls out a cassette tape, and places it in a stereo, before hitting the ‘play’ button.]

Pigeon: hello gentlemen. it’s your honor to have me, i’m sure.

Styles: Pigeon?

Pigeon: that’s right, mikey styles. the boss is here.

SW: Who, Seth Harker?

Pigeon: no. me! pigeon! you know the deal. since trey vincent wouldn’t allow wes rivers or that other guy out here to do commentary, i’m out here to give heel support to the Hierarchy.

Pigeon: So… what’s the problem?

Axl: It’s just started, fucktard! And besides, referring to yourself as the BOSS?! You’ve ALREADY crossed the line of no return!

SW: Hey, Pigeon, how do you feel about this whole Axl-Michelle thing?

Pigeon: how do i feel about michelle being with Axl? it feels like i just puked my guts out, then somebody sucked up the vomit up into a bag, shoved a tube up my ass, gave me a vomit enema, then hung my legs over my head bugs bunny style until I shot diarrhea vomit straight up in a bloody brown stream that rained down all over my face. that’s how it felt, smegma.

SW: Yeah. That’s how I feel whenever I have to sit through an Axl promo.

[The crowd boos as “Under the Knife” by AC/DC hits. Though I have no idea how this is possible, or has been possible for the last few years, as there seems to be no record of this song existing.]

Styles: And this one’s already under way before Thrilla can even get his introduction. Ken and Mano jumped Harker and are pounding him on the outside.

SW: Yeah. They’re pounding him like the way no doubt Axl is pounding Michelle every night. No disrespect, Pigeon.

Pigeon: she must have an oversized clit. because we all know an oversized clit is one step away from a guy with an undersized chode. so sayeth randall mooby. whatever happened to him?

SW: He got fired.

Pigeon: What, you’re saying she DOESN’T have an oversized clit?

Axl: Well…

Michelle: AXL!!!

Styles: Mano trying to sneak up the other side, but Thrilla jerks him off!

SW: BWAHAHAHA! And I thought Axl was the fag in this match.

Pigeon: scotty, let me borrow a vicodin. you’re obviously feeling no pain tonight.

SW: only if you let me bang whatever rat you take to your room tonight.

Pigeon: no.

SW: Can I at least watch?

Pigeon: *sigh* fine. but keep your pants on this time.

SW: No promises!

Pigeon: Now what’s the problem?

Axl: You disgust me!

Pigeon: Hey, what’s the matter with putting on a little show?

Axl: Not THAT. The fact that you have sex with RATS!

Pigeon: … And you call ME stupid?

SW: Yeah! I hope Roydz is crippled now! I’m pretty sure I could take him in a wheelchair race.

Pigeon: i highly doubt it, scotty. ken couldn’t get the full impact because he’s such a tiny little man and Roydz is a monster. physically, of course, not in the genitalia region. and i swear my wording wasn’t yet another excuse to mention that i have a giant horsecock. even though i do.

Styles: All right, that’s enough of that, Pigeon.

Axl: You weren’t out there to talk about your package! You were OUT there to shill ME. And besides, speaking of me, EVERYONE knows I’m the one with the biggest junk in the Hierarchy!

Michelle: I dunno, I’ve seen Viruz in the shower…

Axl: … You were in the men’s lockeroom shower? … Why?

Michelle: No, not the lockeroom shower. The shower here at the Residence. … I was, uhm… I walked in to use the bathroom, and… He had the curtain open.

Axl: …

Pigeon: Heheh, sure. Looks like your bro’s sharing more than a gene pool with ya, Axl.


Pigeon: if I wasn’t injured I’d beat my back pay out of him right now. Vicodin me.

SW: These don’t grow on trees, Pigeon. Though I sure wish they did!

Pigeon: i know a corrupt doctor with prescription slips. i’ll hook you up later.

SW: Sweet!

Pigeon: Now come on, you can’t POSSIBLY have a problem with THAT!

Axl: I just can’t stand a supposedly “loyal” member of this family chatting away with the ENEMY!

Pigeon: You mean Scotty? Wait… you’re STILL pissed off at him for making fun of you? Isn’t that a bit childish? Wasn’t putting him in a wheelchair enough?

Axl: He still hasn’t learned his lesson! He must suffer for his indiscretions! The travesty that is his commentary career shall be paid in full with the shedding of his blood!

Pigeon: Jesus, when you hold a grudge, you don’t mess around…

[In fast-mo, Harker does the whirly-bird, cracking the ladder into everyone’s head (in order: Ken, Roydz, Mano, Thrilla, then finally Axl). After nailing everyone, Harker collapses to his knees in slow-motion, lifts the ladder off himself, and throws it to the mat before collapsing on it, exhausted! Back to regular speed.]


Pigeon: now that was cool…

Pigeon: … Seriously, what was wrong with that?

Axl: How DARE you praise the work of those outside the Hierarchy! Especially when called upon to praise ME! ME, ME, ME! Do you not understand me when I say ME!?!

Pigeon: I understand you need a tic-tac…

Axl: ARGH!

Pigeon: say, scotty. Would you rather fuck anorexic looking angelina jolie or pregnant angelina jolie?

SW: Doesn’t matter to me, as long as I would be fucking Angelina Jolie. Then I could rub that fact in my arch-nemesis’s face, yes, I mean Brad Pitt, for the rest of his pathetic life. Hell, I could give her quadruplets, Brad. Your sperm are fags!

Pigeon: i actually prefer pregnant angelina. but hell, my dick’s so long, i’d probably get arrested for having sex with a fetus. wait, is that a crime? or do they have to be popped out of the womb before it’s illegal?

Styles: All right, Pigeon!

SW: Bwahaha! You are insane, Pigeon. You should really leave the Hierarchy and become the third commentator on iMPLOSION and these On-Demands!

Pigeon: if they pay me, i’ll do whatever management wants, i’m a money whore i admit it. but they only paid me enough to do this one match. so that’s all you get tonight. speaking of whoring and george carlin, he did make one great point. if fucking is legal and selling is legal, why is selling fucking illegal?

SW: I don’t know, Pigeon. I just don’t know.

Axl: And how DARE you even CONTEMPLATE becoming a commentator!

Pigeon: … But… I wasn’t? I just said I’ll do anything for money… And I also promoted the legalization of prostitution. I think.


Pigeon: … Huh?

Styles: Ken just went straight into the turnbuckle as the ladder fell over.

SW: Must. Not. Do. Owen. Joke…

Pigeon: you’re terrible, scotty. i like it.

Styles: Thrilla just charged at Roydz, but Thrilla got backdropped to the floor! Mano now setting up a large ladder. Oh, what is he doing?

SW: I think Mano’s confused. This isn’t his construction job. You’re supposed to climb the ladder, not build an extension off of it.

Styles: That second ladder is now horizontal to the mat, as you can plainly see fans. I don’t know what Mano has in mind, but I’m sure somebody’s going to get hurt by this. Axl’s back up now. Axl and Mano are brawling on top of that horizontal ladder. Oh no! They both lost their balance and both just got crotched!

Pigeon: hehehehe. *Ahem*

SW: Did you just laugh?

Pigeon: of course not! why would i ever laugh at somebody who’s banging my ex-girlfriend when he just got dropped on his testicles?

Styles: Enter: Harker. Oh no. Axl is now laid out on top of Mano.

SW: Two man sandwiches in one match? Axl’s gotta be loving this match!

Pigeon: by that logic, he’s gonna love it more when he gets sandwiched by Harker and Mano in a minute.

Axl: And now, worst of all, you’re LAUGHING AT ME?! [shoves Pigeon hard into the wall, bringing his face to that of Pigeon’s] YOU BASTARD!

Pigeon: I… I… I… th-th-think… you should try some Colgate.


Pigeon: are we even going to have any other matches tonight?

Styles: I’d assume so.

Axl: And WHAT would be so wrong with my spectacular prescence being felt throughout the night? Just imagine… three full hours of Total Non-Stop Axl!!!

Pigeon: Yeahhh… that may very well be the most boring idea I’ve ever heard.

Michelle: No… I’d say that award goes to the time I agreed to listen to you recite every poem out of ‘The Big BoB Book of Poetry’. XXXTreme’s prose was especially awefultastic…

Styles: Thrilla’s trying to climb that ladder that’s all bent to hell. Axl’s up and shoves Thrilla off onto the top rope throat first. Thrilla with a desperation move sends Axl to the floor. Now Thrilla and Axl brawling out here near us!

SW: I’m so glad Michelle didn’t stick around to see this.

Pigeon: i’m sure she’s happily occupied with one of the boys in the back on her knees in a bathroom stall to kill the time.

Michelle: Oh, I think this fucker should be tossed out for that alone!

Pigeon: Don’t worry, if something needs tossing, just call Axl. I hear he’s especially good with salad…


KF: Ladies and gentlemen, here is the winner of the Beer in the Belly Ladder Match, which guarantees him a shot at the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS at some point during the next 365 days, Axl!

SW: He shouldn’t have even been in this match! He’s already been the OWCTM!

Pigeon: you can thank michelle for that, among other things.


SW: Yes! Thrilla is my new hero!

Styles: Thrilla just KO’ed Axl with a chairshot! Axl wasn’t ready for that! Thrilla’s got the beer? Thrilla’s stealing the beer!

SW: Yes! Brilliant!

Pigeon: i’d so stop him if my leg and head weren’t in such pain. damn you thrilla!

Styles: What a wild start to UnFOURgiven fans! Axl is your winner, but Thrilla’s leaving with the beer. What does it all mean?

SW: Probably a match at the next BOB-On-Demand?

[Michelle stops the tape, and Axl’s face meets with that of Pigeon… his eyes glowing brighter and hotter than the very center of the Earth itself. Axl breathes heavily, and speaks…]

Axl: Pigeon… I trusted you… and I trusted this muscled-up goon Steve, I trusted the BOTH of you to protect the Beer in the Belly Six-Pack for ME. Pigeon, you used an “injury” as an excuse not to get off your lazy, worthless ass. An injury that we both know was just a ruse to shock the fans when they later saw you come out and interfere in the ‘Enter the Vortex’ match.

Pigeon: I still can’t quite figure out the POINT of that ruse…


Pigeon: …

Axl: You still refused to assist in bringing the six-pack back home… where it belongs. [Axl turns to Steve, still grabbing Pigeon by the collar…] And YOU. You were IN THE DAMN MATCH, you lunk headed oaf!!! You could have easily destroyed that beartrap-mouthed beatnik and grabbed the six-pack! But you wanna know why you didn’t? It’s because earlier in the match, you tried to grab the six-pack for YOURSELF! You both made THE single most grievous error that a member of the Hierarchy can make. [Axl turns back to Pigeon] … you put yourself before the King. While Steve went into business for himself in the ladder match, you Pigeon? You worried more about a supposed “injury” to your own fragile little frame than the ultimate good… the salvation of the gold.

Axl: As you know, there are two open slots at ‘Power is Stolen‘, for two members of the Hierarchy to take on Great and Trable for the tag title #1 contendership. Now… before all of this occured, I would have been kind. I would have been generous. When the two of you were in my good graces, you would have been handed over the opportunity on a silver platter. But now?

[Axl suddenly tosses Pigeon from the wall, through the air, and colliding into Steve, as the two topple to the floor. Axl then reaches off camera and pulls on a lever… which releases a trap door beneath the heap of Pigeon and Roydz. The two of them plummet… and plummet… and continue to plummet, until a loud *thud* is heard…]

Axl: Now? You’re going to have… “prove your worth”, so to speak.

Michelle: Huh… Never noticed that trap door till now… or that lever…

Stereo: Plot Hole #903,934 of One Million found!

Axl: Thought you turned that thing off?

Michelle: *shrugs shoulders*

Axl: [Axl turns to the pit… hmm, this appears familiar…] Boys… you’ve just entered your very first ‘Inescapable Pit of No Escape Match’! Win? And you get to face Great and Trable! Lose? … Well, I don’t think you wanna know…

Steve: GRRR!!! This makes me so mad, I could just… I could just… GRRR!!!

Pigeon: …

Axl: Allow me to introduce you to your opponent…

Garth Maul

Steve Roydz

Steve: … Shit. … GRRR!!!

[Garth Maul quickly uses one end of his double-edged lightsaber to slice Steve’s head off, before sticking the other end through his chest and sending his body soaring… and landing in a heap of dead sWo members…]

Garth Maul: Well, it’s a living.

Axl: Wait a minute… [looking down at the pit] … I see Roydz parts, but no Pigeon parts? [looks to Michelle] What gives?

Michelle: Hmm… it must be a case of JBL-Cena-Parking-Lot-itus.

Axl: … Whoozit-Huzzit-Whatzit?

Michelle: See, whenever someone meets with what appears to be CERTAIN-DOOM~!!!1tm, they… well, they vanish. And then later, they reappear without a scratch. Usually, just in time for a big pay-per-view Parking Lot Brawl match.

Axl: Wow… Imagine that. … I’m hungry.

Michelle: I’ll go pick up a couple of burgers at Lardd Hutt. Whaddya want on yours?

Axl: Mmm… How about mayonaise, sardines, gummi bears, and ragu?

Michelle: … How about ketchup?

Axl: That’ll work too. Hey, I’m gonna go speak with Viruz. I have something I need to ask him.

Michelle: Cool. See you in a bit, hun.

Axl: Bye bye, sweetie.

[Axl and Michelle share a sloppy kiss… Axl slaps Michelle on the ass as she walks off. Michelle turns and winks, as Axl smiles devilishly. Axl walks toward the door of Vi’s room… he knocks.]

Vi: [from inside] Come on in…

[Axl opens the door slightly, and looks in…]

Axl: Hey bro… I’ve got an idea, and I think you’re gonna like it.

[Axl steps inside, and shuts the door behind… as “Twisted Transistor” plays into blackness.]




C:// _

C:// Enter … FireScape Explorer.

C:// Enter … Hierarchy MailBox…

C:// Compose.

Dear Kurt,

I’d just like to welcome you to the Hierarchy. With the deadweight now cut loose, we have a group consisting of the absolute greatest talent in the business. But not JUST a group, or a stable, or a faction…

But a family.

Axl is like the brave, noble, strong-willed, and determined father.
Michelle… the courageous, loving, nurturing, and altogether wholesome mother.
Garth is like the wise grandfather, who we can always lean on…

And I am like… Well, like the family pet. Or maybe a cousin or something. Even though I’m Axl’s brother. But that’s neither here nor there…

I just can’t tell you how much I appreciate your entrance into this family. You’re without a shadow of a doubt BoB’s greatest icon, and to have your support… well, no mere words can describe the emotions running through Axl and I when we knew YOU were on OUR side. With you backing us, noone will manage to stand in our way.

But, seeing as words cannot do our gratitude justice, we’ve decided to invite you over for dinner at the Residence of Evil, here in Sinister City. You see, Axl and I have come to an agreement concerning who should challenge Great and Trable at PiS… and we want you to be here to discuss matters concerning the On-Demand.

We look forward to your prescence here…

– Vi

p.s. – Have you ever considered changing your look? Because I’ve drawn something of a possibility for you… When you arrive, I’d like your opinion… You may be interested…

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That’s… How I Roll A Joint

June 12th, 2008
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Kurt Angel

[Wow, it’s been ages since I Ranted. Even though I swear I Ranted sometime in the past four years, I’ll be damned if I can find the proof. Ah, the things these drugs do to my brain. Well, UnFOURgiven is coming up, and I have a date with density. A man named Viruz. But enough of me narrating my own thoughts, let’s focus in on the door of a hotel room. The door has a “Kurt Angel” logo on it. The door opens quickly, and out steps the Greatest Parody Wrestler in the World Wide Web Today®, Kurt Angel, along with Little Good for some reason.]

Kurt: Can you believe Trey Vincent? I’m the only Heaven’s Olympics gold medal winner in Brawlers on a Budget, and they book me into a match with Viruz? Who the freak runs this place? I deserve a shot at the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS. Not false, not false.

Little Good

Little Good: Why don’t you try ranting more than once every five years or so, mate?

Kurt: Oh yeah, buster? When’s the last time YOU ranted?

Little Good: I’m not the one crying like a bloody baby over it, mate. And why am I with you? Ain’t I with those conspiracy nuts?

Kurt: I think they’re getting cut.

Little Good: I can see it now. (Pretending to hold a bullhorn) My firing was an inside job! My firing was an inside job.

[Little Good lights up a cigarette.]

Kurt Angel: Viruz, my dookie has more talent than you. And it was even greener than your mask, buster!

LG: You might wanna see a doc about that, mate. That doesn’t sound right.

Kurt Angel: Where my stash at?

LG: I think you just smoked it all. *Cough* Remember?

Kurt Angel: No. So it must have been good. Viruz, remember, I’m a former ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS. Sure, you may have beaten me before, and you’ll probably beat me again. You just better make sure it’s bad enough that a hospital has to take me in and pump me full of morphine. DAMN full of morphine! ‘Cause that’s how I roll a joint!

LG: New catchphrase? I’m almost impressed. Too bad it is bloody awful. You still suck. Maybe you should wait seven years until your next rant…

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You suck.

April 2nd, 2008
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Definitely the low-point of my career. Hah.


[The picture takes shape around Düff lying in bed, passed out. Next to him, a bottle of Jack Daniels sits upright somehow. It’s about half empty. A line of translucent drool rolls down his chin as he snores. The lights are low and the only thing illuminating the room is the gloomy dusk light shining through a crack in the window. You know how the old motto goes: sleep all day, out all night. Düff lives by that motto. Being single helps. Once in a blue moon, he has a girl in bed next to him. Normally their bed because frankly, he doesn’t need any stalkers. When he breathes in, all that spit accumulated in his gullet pulls back into his throat and he begins gagging. He sits upright and the bottle tips over, spilling all on the bed.]

Düff: Aw, maaan!

[He quickly picks up the bottle, sees there’s about a quarter of the stuff left. Enraged, he tosses it across the room and it shatters next to the window.]

Düff: Great. Just fuckin’ great. All that booze right down the drain. I guess it’s better than Kurt Angel’s career, though.

[He scratches his head.]

Düff: But who the hell is Kurt Angel?

[Düff thinks for a moment and shrugs before curling up on his cot and falling asleep again.]

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Final CountDown [4 grate juz-tiz]

January 19th, 2008
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Viruz: The time… is now. Kurt… your end? It’s here. You have nowhere to run… nowhere to hide. You cannot escape the infexion.

Viruz: Resistence is futile…

Viruz: … You have no chance to survive.

~ Make your time. ~







In AD 2101…

… War Beginning.

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2 Weeks… And Counting.

January 6th, 2008
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“You know who I am… but I know even more about you.”

“I’ve been following you.”

“Tracking you.”

“You’d be surprised at just how many computers there really are up in heaven.”

“And then… you fell.”

“You were given a shot at freedom from this hell hole… and you screwed the pooch, didn’t you?”

“Well, Mr. Angel… your time is ticking away.”

“And soon?”

“It shall have ticked down to the very last second… of the very last minute… of the very last hour… of the very last day…”

“… of the very… last… week.”

[We can see only a mask.. a lime green, Hayabusa-esque, mask, with his black hair dangling about loosely… His eyes… cold as ice… as he stares deeply into the camera… almost piercing a hole straight through, right into the soul of a man he faces in two weeks… Viruz speaks.]

“2 weeks, my friend. 2 weeks… and counting.”

“The Viruz is spreading…”

“Are you ready?”

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