Post by slick on May 25, 2017 19:42:20 GMT
Scene opens with a shot of a dive bar, the Tic Toc Lounge, on a dreary night. The scene cuts to our hero Slick Doctor, slumped at the empty bar, almost asleep. Rusty the Bartender is wiping the bar, and then begins to speak
Rusty: I think you've had enough ole' pal. Closing time was two hours ago! Don't you have somewhere to be? Rumor has it you signed a contract with the Warrior Wrestling League? What even is that?
Slick: Kinda weird of you to ask me that at the end of the night, when the cameras come in. I have nowhere to be but here right now, so pour me another. . . .
Rusty reluctantly pulls another beer into a mug, and drops it in front of Slick. Slick powers it down, wiping the beer foam from his mouth
Slick: Yeah I did sign a contract with the Warrior Wrestling League. Prezzie Leroy called me up and said "Slick. we need a face of this league. We need a hot bod that will put the babes in the seats. We need you".
So I though about it, looked at the roster. A roster full of broads, out of shape bros, and a bunch of masked freaks. I made old Leroy pay through the teeth to get Slicky D back in the ring. Plus my own locker, filled with top shelf liquors and of course, some buffalo wings. Endless supply.
I figured with the way the USA is heading right now, America needs a double dose of Slickness. And extra Slick is what they'll get. I've been traveling the globe, looking for some strange adventure, and some strange skin. I am finally ready to settle down, and give the people what they want.
Rusty: I saw Johnny Reb had a few things to say about you, any response for that?
Slick: Johnny Revolution? Johnny Rebellion? Johnny Reb? I am not sure he knows who he is, but I will tell him who he isn't. He isn't a guy who can bring the things to the table that the good Doc can. He can't handle a woman like me. He can't match me technically, and he doesn't have the wrestling knowledge that I do. He cannot look as good as me, he can't excite the crowd like I do. But most importantly, the guy can't eat a hot wing like me. Extra spicy, all night long. I feel bad for the feeble guy. When we get in the ring to start this tourney, the north will prevail over the poor Reb. General Sherman style, Then I'll come for the rest of people in the tourney, but right now, I just want another brew.
Scene fades as Slick shakes his head, Rusty has been asleep at the bar for the last 5 minutes. Slick pours himself a beer.
Rusty: I think you've had enough ole' pal. Closing time was two hours ago! Don't you have somewhere to be? Rumor has it you signed a contract with the Warrior Wrestling League? What even is that?
Slick: Kinda weird of you to ask me that at the end of the night, when the cameras come in. I have nowhere to be but here right now, so pour me another. . . .
Rusty reluctantly pulls another beer into a mug, and drops it in front of Slick. Slick powers it down, wiping the beer foam from his mouth
Slick: Yeah I did sign a contract with the Warrior Wrestling League. Prezzie Leroy called me up and said "Slick. we need a face of this league. We need a hot bod that will put the babes in the seats. We need you".
So I though about it, looked at the roster. A roster full of broads, out of shape bros, and a bunch of masked freaks. I made old Leroy pay through the teeth to get Slicky D back in the ring. Plus my own locker, filled with top shelf liquors and of course, some buffalo wings. Endless supply.
I figured with the way the USA is heading right now, America needs a double dose of Slickness. And extra Slick is what they'll get. I've been traveling the globe, looking for some strange adventure, and some strange skin. I am finally ready to settle down, and give the people what they want.
Rusty: I saw Johnny Reb had a few things to say about you, any response for that?
Slick: Johnny Revolution? Johnny Rebellion? Johnny Reb? I am not sure he knows who he is, but I will tell him who he isn't. He isn't a guy who can bring the things to the table that the good Doc can. He can't handle a woman like me. He can't match me technically, and he doesn't have the wrestling knowledge that I do. He cannot look as good as me, he can't excite the crowd like I do. But most importantly, the guy can't eat a hot wing like me. Extra spicy, all night long. I feel bad for the feeble guy. When we get in the ring to start this tourney, the north will prevail over the poor Reb. General Sherman style, Then I'll come for the rest of people in the tourney, but right now, I just want another brew.
Scene fades as Slick shakes his head, Rusty has been asleep at the bar for the last 5 minutes. Slick pours himself a beer.
