Post by Psychotic Circus on Aug 16, 2011 3:23:40 GMT -5
The camera starts going down the halls of the backstage area of the Mayan theature, it stops in front of a door simply labeled:
The door is swung open by the arm of the camera man and reveals a hazy room with hot pink everything. Hot pink shag carpet, hot pink lighting, hell, it even had hot pink strippers working the hot pink stripper poles. Anyways, in the middle of all of this sits a desk between the two(probably under aged) strippers, and sitting at that desk, trying to hide his hot pink bong, sat Grimey C. Whiskey. He bunched up some papers with his cheasy smile and prepared to make an address to all the new Fighty fighty persons with his godawful accent.
"Hey-wow. I, am Grimey C. Whiskey, the general man-a-ger of GEE-HAITCH-DUBBA-YOU LIVE. It has come to my attention that my workload here is getting bigga. Alota new talent is starten' to spring up and some pretty heafty ahmount a contract work has gone through the maaail. And all of these hopeless, ah ah ah...I mean, all of these frwesh, yuuung and talented peoples will be appearing on my show first. That's right, Smarky Smark and all his pompus British man-a-risms and tea biz-cuts can suck me rwight off!"
Grimey pulls his face closer and points his thumb towards one of the strippers, his eyebrows and penciled on mustache going crazy.
"Just like how one of deez hot bettys is gonna lata oooon."
His (more than likely dabbed with maskcarra) eyes slit as his smile widens.
"Anyways, back to fwacking business! Do ya eva feelz that you're in a slump? Or that your not living up to your po-tent-tal? Grimey C's got the fwackin' awnser! It's called GEE-HAITCH-DUBBA-YOU LIVE! We may not appear in the fancy auditoriums that TEE-AN-TEE gets to show off at, but we get ta' travel da' all across this great nation, and perform our hearts out to the real fanz, the hardcore side of dis' great business....mainly because da' company doesn't pump as much dough into our brand. I don't unda-stand why dey' think a man with a degree in business managment could be a bedda book-a then da' dude selling fake rolexes out in the parking lot, crazy, I know. But, Grimey C has a bedda business plan den' dat. Grimey C is in da' business of making staaarz! It's dis' simpal, you come here and perform, even if ya have ta' do double duty on TEE-AN-TEE, you come here and do a show, wrestle ya fwackin' heart out, and you could be lookin' at a shot at the estimed GEE-HAITCH-DUBBA-YOU T.V title. Aaaahhh! Doesn't dat' just put a fire in ya' loins? See, da' T.V title is the path ta' gwrestness! Look what it did fer the ol' Mighty Man. It basically made da' boy a staaar. Now he's getting title shotz left and right, and his fwackin' potential is SO groovey it's out of site!"
"It's simple, the T.V title is defended every week, live on national television. Your chancez of gettin' a shot are through the roof compared to the other hunks-a-gold around here. But, with that one title reign over here, you've got braggin' rights that half da' locker room doesn't have. Dis' is da' easy way of gettin' yer' name known around deez parts. Dis' could cat-a-pulp you into the star light and maybe one day being da' boss around here. Unlike all youz saps out der' trying ta do everythingz da' hard wayz, like talking bad aboutz da' company, and rappenz galz to makez a name fer ya-selfs....."
Grimey looks deeply into the camera.
"I guess I shouldn't be talkin' badz about those typess, they may be running da' company today evenz...Anywayz, datz' my propasition. Come here, do da' work, and make a namez fer ya-selvz. We alrightz? Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! We alzrightz. Now get da fwack out a my office, bitch!"
EOT
GRIMEY C. WHISKEY.
RULER OF ALL THINGS LIVE.
RULER OF ALL THINGS LIVE.
The door is swung open by the arm of the camera man and reveals a hazy room with hot pink everything. Hot pink shag carpet, hot pink lighting, hell, it even had hot pink strippers working the hot pink stripper poles. Anyways, in the middle of all of this sits a desk between the two(probably under aged) strippers, and sitting at that desk, trying to hide his hot pink bong, sat Grimey C. Whiskey. He bunched up some papers with his cheasy smile and prepared to make an address to all the new Fighty fighty persons with his godawful accent.
"Hey-wow. I, am Grimey C. Whiskey, the general man-a-ger of GEE-HAITCH-DUBBA-YOU LIVE. It has come to my attention that my workload here is getting bigga. Alota new talent is starten' to spring up and some pretty heafty ahmount a contract work has gone through the maaail. And all of these hopeless, ah ah ah...I mean, all of these frwesh, yuuung and talented peoples will be appearing on my show first. That's right, Smarky Smark and all his pompus British man-a-risms and tea biz-cuts can suck me rwight off!"
Grimey pulls his face closer and points his thumb towards one of the strippers, his eyebrows and penciled on mustache going crazy.
"Just like how one of deez hot bettys is gonna lata oooon."
His (more than likely dabbed with maskcarra) eyes slit as his smile widens.
"Anyways, back to fwacking business! Do ya eva feelz that you're in a slump? Or that your not living up to your po-tent-tal? Grimey C's got the fwackin' awnser! It's called GEE-HAITCH-DUBBA-YOU LIVE! We may not appear in the fancy auditoriums that TEE-AN-TEE gets to show off at, but we get ta' travel da' all across this great nation, and perform our hearts out to the real fanz, the hardcore side of dis' great business....mainly because da' company doesn't pump as much dough into our brand. I don't unda-stand why dey' think a man with a degree in business managment could be a bedda book-a then da' dude selling fake rolexes out in the parking lot, crazy, I know. But, Grimey C has a bedda business plan den' dat. Grimey C is in da' business of making staaarz! It's dis' simpal, you come here and perform, even if ya have ta' do double duty on TEE-AN-TEE, you come here and do a show, wrestle ya fwackin' heart out, and you could be lookin' at a shot at the estimed GEE-HAITCH-DUBBA-YOU T.V title. Aaaahhh! Doesn't dat' just put a fire in ya' loins? See, da' T.V title is the path ta' gwrestness! Look what it did fer the ol' Mighty Man. It basically made da' boy a staaar. Now he's getting title shotz left and right, and his fwackin' potential is SO groovey it's out of site!"
"It's simple, the T.V title is defended every week, live on national television. Your chancez of gettin' a shot are through the roof compared to the other hunks-a-gold around here. But, with that one title reign over here, you've got braggin' rights that half da' locker room doesn't have. Dis' is da' easy way of gettin' yer' name known around deez parts. Dis' could cat-a-pulp you into the star light and maybe one day being da' boss around here. Unlike all youz saps out der' trying ta do everythingz da' hard wayz, like talking bad aboutz da' company, and rappenz galz to makez a name fer ya-selfs....."
Grimey looks deeply into the camera.
"I guess I shouldn't be talkin' badz about those typess, they may be running da' company today evenz...Anywayz, datz' my propasition. Come here, do da' work, and make a namez fer ya-selvz. We alrightz? Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! We alzrightz. Now get da fwack out a my office, bitch!"
EOT
