Post by Deleted on Jun 14, 2016 3:56:59 GMT
A bearded old man in wizard garb greedily clutches his Pollo Bucket under one arm, raising a staff to a circling dragon with the other. The dragon spits flame, as the wizard somehow deflects it with his unnatural power. Cut to La Cucaracha's face, as she launches into a promo in a style reminiscent of hostage video.
La Cucaracha: My dream was for the Pollomania egg to explode in a shower of La Cucaracha merchandise, but the corporate office still refuses to get back to me on that one. I can't even claim discrimination any more, because not only do I have one belt, but I've been given an opportunity to win a second one. Y'know, the big one. Claiming 2016 as the Year of the Roach might be a bit premature, but if I walk out of St. Louis as the Golden Egg AND Supremo champs, you're not going to hear the end of it. And yes, I'm going to melt both titles down to create the Pollomania Supreggo Championship. Name pending.
When I arrived in Pollomania with a shitload of charisma, affordable yet stylish merchandise, and questionable wrestling ability, a lot of people thought I'd never make it. To be fair, a lot of that has to do with my diet and lifestyle. Sure, I sleep on an IKEA mattress in the back of a van and I often pour M&M's over my free chicken. I haven't died, because I have the resilience of my namesake and maybe my wrestling ability wasn't so questionable after all. And somehow I moved a shitload of t-shirts and hissing foam cockroaches and finally have enough money to buy an apartment. A fucking studio, even! Needless to say, I'm the most successful person you know. Except for that guy. That one fucking guy.
If I could pull some pied piper shit and make a swarm of cockroaches cover Jason Orion, eat his entire body, and leave only a skeleton behind, believe me, I would. Pollomania needs a new face and it needs to be a face that can consume massive amounts of fast food chicken with no adverse effects. How much Pollo Bucket can you eat and keep standing, Orion? And don't even try to go to the toilet to make room. Let's leave this all on the table. I can put away a lot of chicken tenders, big guy. And you know what? I'll dip every last one of them too. I've developed an immunity to ranch and money mustard. Can you say the same? Then why are you the Supremo Champion?
I guess before I got here, standards were a little different. But times have changed. Jason Orion, you might be a better wrestler than me. In fact, you're definitely a better wrestler than me. But there's one thing I have that you don't: an inherent ability to shill for this company. I'll endorse anything with a Pollo Bucket logo, whether it's chicken, condoms, or napalm. How far would you really go to make sure the soulless vampires who invested in this company get even richer.?
And before you call me a garbage human being, let me just point out that all this is part of a much larger scheme for me to ultimately steal the fortunes of Pollo Bucket's board of directors and make them all unwilling participants in an underground fighting pit. I'm gonna be running this company by 2018, fuckface, so you better stay on my good side. Take a finger-poke of doom and walk away from the Supremo Title now.
Do that thing where a guy who used to be really dangerous goes to live in the woods. You can even get a wife and have kids that don't know about your past. I mean, usually someone with a grudge shows up and kills the guy's family in that case, but I'm sure you'll be fine if you keep an eye out. Tiger Mask Red isn't going to hike all the way up the Appalachian Trail just to fireball your loved ones and bring you out of retirement. I'll leave you alone, too. I swear. I'll be too busy being the fucking Supremo Champ. Everyone wins, dude.
La Cucaracha fumbles for the camera, as the feed cuts back to what was once the wizard, his body now a charred husk. The hungry dragon greedily buries his head in the Pollo Bucket as best he can.
La Cucaracha: My dream was for the Pollomania egg to explode in a shower of La Cucaracha merchandise, but the corporate office still refuses to get back to me on that one. I can't even claim discrimination any more, because not only do I have one belt, but I've been given an opportunity to win a second one. Y'know, the big one. Claiming 2016 as the Year of the Roach might be a bit premature, but if I walk out of St. Louis as the Golden Egg AND Supremo champs, you're not going to hear the end of it. And yes, I'm going to melt both titles down to create the Pollomania Supreggo Championship. Name pending.
When I arrived in Pollomania with a shitload of charisma, affordable yet stylish merchandise, and questionable wrestling ability, a lot of people thought I'd never make it. To be fair, a lot of that has to do with my diet and lifestyle. Sure, I sleep on an IKEA mattress in the back of a van and I often pour M&M's over my free chicken. I haven't died, because I have the resilience of my namesake and maybe my wrestling ability wasn't so questionable after all. And somehow I moved a shitload of t-shirts and hissing foam cockroaches and finally have enough money to buy an apartment. A fucking studio, even! Needless to say, I'm the most successful person you know. Except for that guy. That one fucking guy.
If I could pull some pied piper shit and make a swarm of cockroaches cover Jason Orion, eat his entire body, and leave only a skeleton behind, believe me, I would. Pollomania needs a new face and it needs to be a face that can consume massive amounts of fast food chicken with no adverse effects. How much Pollo Bucket can you eat and keep standing, Orion? And don't even try to go to the toilet to make room. Let's leave this all on the table. I can put away a lot of chicken tenders, big guy. And you know what? I'll dip every last one of them too. I've developed an immunity to ranch and money mustard. Can you say the same? Then why are you the Supremo Champion?
I guess before I got here, standards were a little different. But times have changed. Jason Orion, you might be a better wrestler than me. In fact, you're definitely a better wrestler than me. But there's one thing I have that you don't: an inherent ability to shill for this company. I'll endorse anything with a Pollo Bucket logo, whether it's chicken, condoms, or napalm. How far would you really go to make sure the soulless vampires who invested in this company get even richer.?
And before you call me a garbage human being, let me just point out that all this is part of a much larger scheme for me to ultimately steal the fortunes of Pollo Bucket's board of directors and make them all unwilling participants in an underground fighting pit. I'm gonna be running this company by 2018, fuckface, so you better stay on my good side. Take a finger-poke of doom and walk away from the Supremo Title now.
Do that thing where a guy who used to be really dangerous goes to live in the woods. You can even get a wife and have kids that don't know about your past. I mean, usually someone with a grudge shows up and kills the guy's family in that case, but I'm sure you'll be fine if you keep an eye out. Tiger Mask Red isn't going to hike all the way up the Appalachian Trail just to fireball your loved ones and bring you out of retirement. I'll leave you alone, too. I swear. I'll be too busy being the fucking Supremo Champ. Everyone wins, dude.
La Cucaracha fumbles for the camera, as the feed cuts back to what was once the wizard, his body now a charred husk. The hungry dragon greedily buries his head in the Pollo Bucket as best he can.