Post by Deleted on Sept 20, 2015 20:48:08 GMT
Come up on Journeyman Phillips in a dilapidated wrestling ring, arms resting on the top rope. Walter is eating the turnbuckle.
Journeyman: When I started out in this business it was hard work. Real graft. It was just me and my Uncle Mervyn in his garage. He was my first trainer, taught me everything I know. Terrific man. The kids down the street all called him names. "MERV THE PERV!" they would shout. You know how kids can be. They always find stuff to rhyme your name with. He didn't let it get to him though. That was the measure of the man. I'd go round his house every night and he'd lock me in holds and pin me to the mat for hours on end. I'll never forget it was ever so hot in there so he insisted we wrestle in our underpants to make sure we didn't overheat. One day my Father came in and saw us. He began yelling at my Uncle something about prison and registers and being sick in the head. I never did see my Uncle after that but everything I've achieved in this business I owe it all to him. I went onto achieve great things. I've travelled the world a hundred times over. Death matches in Burma, ladder matches in Malta. But this is an opportunity of a lifetime. Half a million dollars and free chicken for life. That beats any shitty gold plated belt hands down. I'm not taking this lightly. This is my retirement package. I can ride off into the sunset with a couple of chi-caritas on each arm. 'ARRIBA ARRIBA!' I'll shout because I'm the chicken king and if anyone accuses me off being disrespectful I'll just shove a couple of Benjamin's down their traps.
But I can't do this on my own. I have two of the most fearsome individuals in all of professional wrestling. 'The Midnight King'. Nirvana. The Prince of Parts Unknown. The man with more bitches than crufts.
And if that doesn't send a shiver down your spine I've got 'The Beast of Boring, Oregon'. 'Wal-Mart' Walter Martin!
Walter looked up from his turnbuckle.
Walter: WALTER HUNGRY.
Journeyman: Yes, Walter. Hungry for success no doubt. Hungry for the blood of The Breakfast Club! Hungry for the blood of any man, woman or child that gets in our path. You may see us and say, 'LOOK AT THOSE OLD FOOLS! They're going to break a hip!' But we are not to be taken lightly. POLLOMANIA, we are coming for you, we are coming for your belts, we are coming for your women!
Walter: WALTER WOMEN!
Journeyman: We are coming for your money, and we are coming for your chicken!
Walter: CHICKEN WALTER!
Journeyman: You may see three dilapidated old timers but we are distinguished veterans! Hipsters of the mat! We are cosmopolitan! We are beatniks, hedonists, bombastic, say me fantastics! We are the Broken Hipsters. And Pollomania, we are coming for YOU!
Cut to black.
Journeyman: When I started out in this business it was hard work. Real graft. It was just me and my Uncle Mervyn in his garage. He was my first trainer, taught me everything I know. Terrific man. The kids down the street all called him names. "MERV THE PERV!" they would shout. You know how kids can be. They always find stuff to rhyme your name with. He didn't let it get to him though. That was the measure of the man. I'd go round his house every night and he'd lock me in holds and pin me to the mat for hours on end. I'll never forget it was ever so hot in there so he insisted we wrestle in our underpants to make sure we didn't overheat. One day my Father came in and saw us. He began yelling at my Uncle something about prison and registers and being sick in the head. I never did see my Uncle after that but everything I've achieved in this business I owe it all to him. I went onto achieve great things. I've travelled the world a hundred times over. Death matches in Burma, ladder matches in Malta. But this is an opportunity of a lifetime. Half a million dollars and free chicken for life. That beats any shitty gold plated belt hands down. I'm not taking this lightly. This is my retirement package. I can ride off into the sunset with a couple of chi-caritas on each arm. 'ARRIBA ARRIBA!' I'll shout because I'm the chicken king and if anyone accuses me off being disrespectful I'll just shove a couple of Benjamin's down their traps.
But I can't do this on my own. I have two of the most fearsome individuals in all of professional wrestling. 'The Midnight King'. Nirvana. The Prince of Parts Unknown. The man with more bitches than crufts.
And if that doesn't send a shiver down your spine I've got 'The Beast of Boring, Oregon'. 'Wal-Mart' Walter Martin!
Walter looked up from his turnbuckle.
Walter: WALTER HUNGRY.
Journeyman: Yes, Walter. Hungry for success no doubt. Hungry for the blood of The Breakfast Club! Hungry for the blood of any man, woman or child that gets in our path. You may see us and say, 'LOOK AT THOSE OLD FOOLS! They're going to break a hip!' But we are not to be taken lightly. POLLOMANIA, we are coming for you, we are coming for your belts, we are coming for your women!
Walter: WALTER WOMEN!
Journeyman: We are coming for your money, and we are coming for your chicken!
Walter: CHICKEN WALTER!
Journeyman: You may see three dilapidated old timers but we are distinguished veterans! Hipsters of the mat! We are cosmopolitan! We are beatniks, hedonists, bombastic, say me fantastics! We are the Broken Hipsters. And Pollomania, we are coming for YOU!
Cut to black.