Post by Deleted on Jun 14, 2016 5:54:17 GMT
A man in a hazmat suit advances through an apocalyptic landscape, his goal unclear as he eyes piles of charred corpses. He notices that one is gripping some Pollo Bucket. The man knows he can't enjoy chicken through his hazmat suit, but he also knows the toxic conditions could spell his doom. The feed cuts, to La Cucaracha, this time standing in front of a diagram of earth's geologic eras.
La Cucaracha: In the beginning there was the cockroach.
Sure, there was bacteria, single-cell organisms, amoebas, and all that shit, but I'm not a scientist. I'm a wrestler. Point being, I'm carrying on a grand tradition here. Step on us, spray us, invite to one of your fancy motels, we still keep on keepin' on. Punch me, suplex me, Nebula Kick me until there's no tomorrow. If you've got an Extinction Level Event in your back pocket, you might actually put me down long enough for a two-count.
And it's just not resilience I got working for me. I'm resourceful. Jason Orion, if you look at me and just see a t-shirt gun, foam cockroaches, an official La Cucaracha t-shirt, and sparkler antenna headbands, you're not looking hard enough. Yeah, I'm a merchandising juggernaut. And yes, I've captured the enlarged hearts of America's fast food-eating populace. But dude, seriously, I'm a fucking genius. Do you think it was just wrestling that kept this Golden Egg Championship around my waist? I mean, except for that time DC Wiland stole it.
You know what? Never mind. Bad example. So I got outsmarted once. Then I made a solemn promise it would never happen again. See, I got this philosophy: Win every match by any means necessary and get paid. Been working out well so far, but now I gotta get by you. The Supremo Champion. You're the foot stomping down on me, but you didn't expect this roach to counter your stomp with an eye gouge. Things are gonna get dirty, Jason. They pretty much have to, if I'm going to stand a chance at winning.
And I really want to win this one. Being Golden Egg Champion is great, but do you have any idea how my profile is gonna skyrocket after I become the first double-champion in Pollomania? One of us is going to make history and the other is walking out empty handed. And honestly, don't you have some self discovery to embark on since changing your name? You're a completely different person than you used to be! You probably have completely different tastes, feelings, thoughts, hopes, and dreams.
Maybe wrestling isn't even what you want to do anymore. Maybe you'd like to open a bike shop or grow your own cucumbers. You can totally do that, dude. I'm not going to judge you. And if you decide to pursue your true passion outside of the ring, just know that your Supremo Title is in good hands. My point is, just don't try. Think about how shitty you'll feel if you give your all in our match and still come up short. That'd be terrible.
Don't you want to be able to look yourself in the mirror, Jason? I hope you can. The only way to do that is to roll the fuck over and let me win. That way, you can tell yourself, "Self, maybe I COULD'VE beaten La Cucaracha," instead of having to say, "Goddammit, La Cucaracha beat me at my best, because she's the shit and everybody loves her. I should just kill myself."
Don't do that, dude. Call a suicide prevention hotline and talk about your feelings. I would talk to you, but I'm gonna be busy running victory laps with my new belt. Just remember, when everyone in St. Louis is cheering for me and screaming about how great I am, you're still not alone. Even if everybody else loves me more and is rooting for me to beat you and maybe end your career by botching a piledriver. Relax, dude. I'm not even sure how to do a piledriver. But I am sure how to do the Hiss of Death, and if that happens, well, you know how the story concludes.
In the end, there was the cockroach. And that cockroach was the Supremo Champion. See ya, dude.
La Cucaracha gives the camera a wave as the feed cuts back to the man formerly in the hazmat suit. As his flesh burns off, he enjoys a chicken wing.
La Cucaracha: In the beginning there was the cockroach.
Sure, there was bacteria, single-cell organisms, amoebas, and all that shit, but I'm not a scientist. I'm a wrestler. Point being, I'm carrying on a grand tradition here. Step on us, spray us, invite to one of your fancy motels, we still keep on keepin' on. Punch me, suplex me, Nebula Kick me until there's no tomorrow. If you've got an Extinction Level Event in your back pocket, you might actually put me down long enough for a two-count.
And it's just not resilience I got working for me. I'm resourceful. Jason Orion, if you look at me and just see a t-shirt gun, foam cockroaches, an official La Cucaracha t-shirt, and sparkler antenna headbands, you're not looking hard enough. Yeah, I'm a merchandising juggernaut. And yes, I've captured the enlarged hearts of America's fast food-eating populace. But dude, seriously, I'm a fucking genius. Do you think it was just wrestling that kept this Golden Egg Championship around my waist? I mean, except for that time DC Wiland stole it.
You know what? Never mind. Bad example. So I got outsmarted once. Then I made a solemn promise it would never happen again. See, I got this philosophy: Win every match by any means necessary and get paid. Been working out well so far, but now I gotta get by you. The Supremo Champion. You're the foot stomping down on me, but you didn't expect this roach to counter your stomp with an eye gouge. Things are gonna get dirty, Jason. They pretty much have to, if I'm going to stand a chance at winning.
And I really want to win this one. Being Golden Egg Champion is great, but do you have any idea how my profile is gonna skyrocket after I become the first double-champion in Pollomania? One of us is going to make history and the other is walking out empty handed. And honestly, don't you have some self discovery to embark on since changing your name? You're a completely different person than you used to be! You probably have completely different tastes, feelings, thoughts, hopes, and dreams.
Maybe wrestling isn't even what you want to do anymore. Maybe you'd like to open a bike shop or grow your own cucumbers. You can totally do that, dude. I'm not going to judge you. And if you decide to pursue your true passion outside of the ring, just know that your Supremo Title is in good hands. My point is, just don't try. Think about how shitty you'll feel if you give your all in our match and still come up short. That'd be terrible.
Don't you want to be able to look yourself in the mirror, Jason? I hope you can. The only way to do that is to roll the fuck over and let me win. That way, you can tell yourself, "Self, maybe I COULD'VE beaten La Cucaracha," instead of having to say, "Goddammit, La Cucaracha beat me at my best, because she's the shit and everybody loves her. I should just kill myself."
Don't do that, dude. Call a suicide prevention hotline and talk about your feelings. I would talk to you, but I'm gonna be busy running victory laps with my new belt. Just remember, when everyone in St. Louis is cheering for me and screaming about how great I am, you're still not alone. Even if everybody else loves me more and is rooting for me to beat you and maybe end your career by botching a piledriver. Relax, dude. I'm not even sure how to do a piledriver. But I am sure how to do the Hiss of Death, and if that happens, well, you know how the story concludes.
In the end, there was the cockroach. And that cockroach was the Supremo Champion. See ya, dude.
La Cucaracha gives the camera a wave as the feed cuts back to the man formerly in the hazmat suit. As his flesh burns off, he enjoys a chicken wing.