Post by Deleted on Sept 1, 2015 17:26:06 GMT
“I am one sexy bitch, Woody.”
Grin is posing in front of a mirror. Draped over his broad shoulders, we see a fresh new bathrobe, pink and covered in unicorns. Woody is propped up next to the mirror, sitting in a chair and holding a purse. His note-face has a bored look drawn on it. Next to them, an opened cardboard box has the words “TO WOODY AND GRIN, FROM HOLLY AND BRUTE” scrawled on the side in marker.
Grin strikes a vogue-like pose and speaks:
“I mean, DAMN. Unicorns and rainbows make anyone look good, but I make THIS look good, amirite?”
Cut to Woody. His face still looks very bored. His arm is held up, and there’s a shiny foil “thumbs up” sticker attached to it. Grin does one more spin and shimmies his butt a few times, admiring what he sees in the mirror. He then looks into the box again, saying:
“Oh, and a can of Axe body spray! Finally, ONE of us will get to smell like a jar of Jersey Shore farts! Gosh, it sure was nice of Lady Bozo and her pet caveman to send us these gifts! What do you think of your gift, Woody?”
Cut to Woody, whose face appears to be rolling its eyes. There’s a can of furniture polish in the dustbin next to him. Grin shakes his head and makes “tsk tsk” sounds, then says:
“You need to learn how to accept gifts better, Woody! It’s the least you can do! I mean, how sincere is our gratitude going to seem next week, when we’re beating their heads into face-flavored lollipops? Carpe diem, acorn-brains!”
Cut to Woody, who is leaning his head on his hand. The other hand holds up a can of termite spray. Grin shrugs and responds:
“OK, fine, but to be fair, it DID clear up your little ‘infection’. Just think of how nice it is that you’ll be able to concentrate fully on the match without the distraction of itchy crotch-goblins! Make sure Holly knows exactly how much you appreciate having such unprecedented clarity in a Pollomania ring!”
Cut to Woody, who is crossing his arms and looking away. Grin stops his posing and goes over to Woody, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Alright, buddy, then let’s look at this another way - they’re mocking us. I know this, you know this. Now, we can either sit here like drippy little cry-muffins and let that bother us, or we can show off just how impotent and weenie-riffic their grade-school attempts at humor really are! I, for one, will not be letting two Canadian clowns with dollar-store funny-book gimmicks get under my skin! In fact, I plan on saving these cookies for the match itself, and spoiler alert - I hope they have ass-dentures, because this box does NOT contain lube!”
Cut to Woody. His note-face now has an evil grin drawn on it.
(final count: 489 words, 3 cans of spray-on chemicals, and 12 cookies that are literally gonna go to Holly's thighs)
Grin is posing in front of a mirror. Draped over his broad shoulders, we see a fresh new bathrobe, pink and covered in unicorns. Woody is propped up next to the mirror, sitting in a chair and holding a purse. His note-face has a bored look drawn on it. Next to them, an opened cardboard box has the words “TO WOODY AND GRIN, FROM HOLLY AND BRUTE” scrawled on the side in marker.
Grin strikes a vogue-like pose and speaks:
“I mean, DAMN. Unicorns and rainbows make anyone look good, but I make THIS look good, amirite?”
Cut to Woody. His face still looks very bored. His arm is held up, and there’s a shiny foil “thumbs up” sticker attached to it. Grin does one more spin and shimmies his butt a few times, admiring what he sees in the mirror. He then looks into the box again, saying:
“Oh, and a can of Axe body spray! Finally, ONE of us will get to smell like a jar of Jersey Shore farts! Gosh, it sure was nice of Lady Bozo and her pet caveman to send us these gifts! What do you think of your gift, Woody?”
Cut to Woody, whose face appears to be rolling its eyes. There’s a can of furniture polish in the dustbin next to him. Grin shakes his head and makes “tsk tsk” sounds, then says:
“You need to learn how to accept gifts better, Woody! It’s the least you can do! I mean, how sincere is our gratitude going to seem next week, when we’re beating their heads into face-flavored lollipops? Carpe diem, acorn-brains!”
Cut to Woody, who is leaning his head on his hand. The other hand holds up a can of termite spray. Grin shrugs and responds:
“OK, fine, but to be fair, it DID clear up your little ‘infection’. Just think of how nice it is that you’ll be able to concentrate fully on the match without the distraction of itchy crotch-goblins! Make sure Holly knows exactly how much you appreciate having such unprecedented clarity in a Pollomania ring!”
Cut to Woody, who is crossing his arms and looking away. Grin stops his posing and goes over to Woody, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Alright, buddy, then let’s look at this another way - they’re mocking us. I know this, you know this. Now, we can either sit here like drippy little cry-muffins and let that bother us, or we can show off just how impotent and weenie-riffic their grade-school attempts at humor really are! I, for one, will not be letting two Canadian clowns with dollar-store funny-book gimmicks get under my skin! In fact, I plan on saving these cookies for the match itself, and spoiler alert - I hope they have ass-dentures, because this box does NOT contain lube!”
Cut to Woody. His note-face now has an evil grin drawn on it.
(final count: 489 words, 3 cans of spray-on chemicals, and 12 cookies that are literally gonna go to Holly's thighs)