Assassins vs. Monsta Boyz
- Thread starter DBrunkGXW
- Start date
JABolich
League Member
Re-Catharsis
(FADEIN: A plain white backdrop. BUFF BELLOWS and FAT FARRELL sit on top of heavy beer kegs. They're both wearing their Hawaiian shirts and matching denim shorts again.)
Buff Bellows: Aight, there's somethin' I gotta get off my chest.
Fat Farrell: Yeah, man. Little somethin' ta say.
Buff Bellows: When we fought the Carnival at Rev, yeah - we didn't beat 'em. They didn't beat US, but hey, we didn't win, an' that's what matters. But when we got backstage after the match, I realized somethin'. Somethin' was missing. Somethin' was draggin' Buff Bellows down.
Fat Farrell: Draggin' down me too, bro.
Buff Bellows: But I've finally figured out what was missing.
The fans.
Since day one the fans have been part of the Monsta Country equation. We've fed off their electricity - taken all their cheers and chants and excitement and turned inta rocket fuel for our careers. Honestly, we owe our successes ta them. But when we fought the Carnies, that fuel wasn't there. It was like bein' in an empty arena.
Fat Farrell: Dawg, what the hell was we thinkin?
Buff Bellows: So yeah, we're goin' back ta what works. Goin' back ta why we got inta this business in the first place - ta make people HAPPY.
Fat Farrell: Yeah, man. Dat's da way ta do it.
Buff Bellows: Then again... Right offhand, I can think of a couple people who ain't gonna be too happy after the big Pizzay-Per-View.
Fat Farrell: Abbott an' Costello?
Buff Bellows: Nope.
Fat Farrell: Dumb an' Dumber?
Buff Bellows: Gettin' warmer.
Fat Farrell: Orion an' Osiris?
Buff Bellows: Give the man a cigar! You've won the prize!
Fat farrell: (girly voice) Ohhhhh myyyy GODDDDD!! EEEEEEEE!!!
Buff Bellows: An' as for these two ass-sassin' unfortunates, they've won themselves a one-way ticket down ta Monsta Country.
'Sup, 'Sassins? How ya doin'?
Well, it's been a while, kids. What's it been now - Six, eight months since we last stepped inna that squared circle? Now, now. I know what yer gonna say. 'Dwehhhh, we kicked yer asses last time we fought you! Har har!' So let's cut ya off at the pass right now. First, ya needed some stupid cage-of-death gimmick match ta do it. Second... that makes ya, what against us? One fer three? Sorry, kids, but we're still two wins up on ya. Handed ya a beatin' at Fallout two-k-two an' at the LAST Battleground. Do the math, kiddies - we're STILLLLL better than YOOOOOOU.
Fat Farrell: Like, comparin' US ta YOU is like comparin' a nuclear missile to a slingshot!
Buff Bellows: As fer why we made an appearance during yer match at Global Warfare - well, we needed somethin' ta do for our big comeback, an' you two seemed ideal. Besides... yer both ugly.
But as if throwin' this li'l match together wan't enough, the suits up in the front office apparently stuck a title shot on the line. Or at least that's what the card says. In any case - even MORE incentive for us ta win. 'Cause we all know that the Monsta Boyz have always... ALWAYS been better champions that the 'Sassins. We put asses in seats. We sell out arenas all across the WORLD. An' our merchandise sells like hotcakes. Bottom line, we know what the fans want, an' we know that what the fans want is what's best for the company an' what's best for US.
An' the fans wanna see Buff Bellows an' Fat Farrell on top of the world again, kickin' YOUR asses, kickin' the Carnies' asses, an' bringin' the belts back ta where they rightfully belong.
Step off, dudes. Yer standin' in the way of a speedin' train, an' if ya don't move, we're just gonna run ya both down an' keep on movin'. 'Cause ain't nothin' gonna stop us from takin' our shot an' once again earning the right ta be called THE GREATEST TAG-TEAM IN THE WORLD.
Fat Farrell: An' still better than YOU.
Buff Bellows: An' that's the bottom line... so you'd betta' believe it.
(FADEOUT)
(FADEIN: A plain white backdrop. BUFF BELLOWS and FAT FARRELL sit on top of heavy beer kegs. They're both wearing their Hawaiian shirts and matching denim shorts again.)
Buff Bellows: Aight, there's somethin' I gotta get off my chest.
Fat Farrell: Yeah, man. Little somethin' ta say.
Buff Bellows: When we fought the Carnival at Rev, yeah - we didn't beat 'em. They didn't beat US, but hey, we didn't win, an' that's what matters. But when we got backstage after the match, I realized somethin'. Somethin' was missing. Somethin' was draggin' Buff Bellows down.
Fat Farrell: Draggin' down me too, bro.
Buff Bellows: But I've finally figured out what was missing.
The fans.
Since day one the fans have been part of the Monsta Country equation. We've fed off their electricity - taken all their cheers and chants and excitement and turned inta rocket fuel for our careers. Honestly, we owe our successes ta them. But when we fought the Carnies, that fuel wasn't there. It was like bein' in an empty arena.
Fat Farrell: Dawg, what the hell was we thinkin?
Buff Bellows: So yeah, we're goin' back ta what works. Goin' back ta why we got inta this business in the first place - ta make people HAPPY.
Fat Farrell: Yeah, man. Dat's da way ta do it.
Buff Bellows: Then again... Right offhand, I can think of a couple people who ain't gonna be too happy after the big Pizzay-Per-View.
Fat Farrell: Abbott an' Costello?
Buff Bellows: Nope.
Fat Farrell: Dumb an' Dumber?
Buff Bellows: Gettin' warmer.
Fat Farrell: Orion an' Osiris?
Buff Bellows: Give the man a cigar! You've won the prize!
Fat farrell: (girly voice) Ohhhhh myyyy GODDDDD!! EEEEEEEE!!!
Buff Bellows: An' as for these two ass-sassin' unfortunates, they've won themselves a one-way ticket down ta Monsta Country.
'Sup, 'Sassins? How ya doin'?
Well, it's been a while, kids. What's it been now - Six, eight months since we last stepped inna that squared circle? Now, now. I know what yer gonna say. 'Dwehhhh, we kicked yer asses last time we fought you! Har har!' So let's cut ya off at the pass right now. First, ya needed some stupid cage-of-death gimmick match ta do it. Second... that makes ya, what against us? One fer three? Sorry, kids, but we're still two wins up on ya. Handed ya a beatin' at Fallout two-k-two an' at the LAST Battleground. Do the math, kiddies - we're STILLLLL better than YOOOOOOU.
Fat Farrell: Like, comparin' US ta YOU is like comparin' a nuclear missile to a slingshot!
Buff Bellows: As fer why we made an appearance during yer match at Global Warfare - well, we needed somethin' ta do for our big comeback, an' you two seemed ideal. Besides... yer both ugly.
But as if throwin' this li'l match together wan't enough, the suits up in the front office apparently stuck a title shot on the line. Or at least that's what the card says. In any case - even MORE incentive for us ta win. 'Cause we all know that the Monsta Boyz have always... ALWAYS been better champions that the 'Sassins. We put asses in seats. We sell out arenas all across the WORLD. An' our merchandise sells like hotcakes. Bottom line, we know what the fans want, an' we know that what the fans want is what's best for the company an' what's best for US.
An' the fans wanna see Buff Bellows an' Fat Farrell on top of the world again, kickin' YOUR asses, kickin' the Carnies' asses, an' bringin' the belts back ta where they rightfully belong.
Step off, dudes. Yer standin' in the way of a speedin' train, an' if ya don't move, we're just gonna run ya both down an' keep on movin'. 'Cause ain't nothin' gonna stop us from takin' our shot an' once again earning the right ta be called THE GREATEST TAG-TEAM IN THE WORLD.
Fat Farrell: An' still better than YOU.
Buff Bellows: An' that's the bottom line... so you'd betta' believe it.
(FADEOUT)
SteelCitySon
League Member
So we meet again ladies...
Fade in. The camera slides along the streamline curves of a glossy black Chevelle. As it nears the hood of the car, we see two individuals who have been absent from GXW in the past weeks. Orion and Osiris, the Assassins as most know them, are dressed in their familiar black suits, hair pulled back into tight ponytails. The moon shines down upon the two, casting faint shadows upon the car. Both men stare intensely at the camera, arms crossed in front of their chests.
Orion: Well girls, indeed it HAS been awhile.
Osiris: Sorry to say, we haven't missed you in the (beep)in' slightest.
Orion: But to answer your question Buffercup, we've been doin' just fine.
Osiris: You know... you're right bout somethin' Buffy... I WAS going to talk about how the last time we met we whipped your asses, but thanks man, you touched on it nicely... it's good that we can move on to other things.
Orion: Farrell...
Orion smacks his head and shakes it slightly.
Osiris: ... you are quite possibly the dumbest mother (beep)er I've ever met. I would have given that award to Buffy the Cupcake slayer over there, but you simply edged him out in sheer girth. "Comparin' us to you is like comparin' a nuclear missile to a slingshot". Holy (beep)... where the hell did you pull that one out of Fat? Were you always that frickin' witty, or did you pick that up over in MCW?
Orion: Alright 'Siris, everyone and their mother knows they're fullb-blown retarded... let's talk about the big question here. So it seems you've jumped the fence once or twice, doesn't it boys? Today you're spitting on fans, tomorrow you're giving handjobs to the front row. You think because you came back wearing lilac and perrywinkle (beep)in' dress shirts instead of your normal garb that you meant anything different to anyone? You still (beep)in' suck, and we're still going to whip your ass. It doesn't matter if you come in here sucking off each and every GXW fan that turns on a television set. It doesn't (beep)ing MATTER if the fans love what you have to offer... because quite frankly, we think it's complete horse(beep).
Osiris: So you need the fans, huh?
Osiris raises a single eyebrow.
Osiris: Funny, I woulda thought the only thing you'd need would be set of (beep)in' balls. Yeah, we kicked the crap out of you last time you were here, and we'll leave it at that. But after that you two little twats decided to elope or some (beep), and you were gone and forgotten. Nobody could have gave a (beep) if you came back. But sure enough, Global Warfare rolls around, and you being the (beep)ing parasitic leaches you are, decide it's time to haul your asses down to the ring. Granted, it may have taken 5 minutes just for Fat to GET THERE... but you were involved, none the less.
Orion: And see, that's just the **** we're talkin' bout fellas. You left like a bunch of *****es, you come BACK like a bunch of *****es. You're the same piece of (beep) team we beat 8 months ago, and you're still the same pussies who ran away when things got heavy. So like we said... unless those new getups of yours came with a set of grapefruits, you're sadly still in need.
Osiris: But that's right... "the Monsta Boyz put asses in seats"... why would anything else matter, huh? Why the (beep) should we care if the rednecks of cross-burning Burmingham or nascar watchin sofa sitters in South Carolina actually like us? You can keep that ****, son, cuz it's for the birds.
Orion: Seriously... so you're (beepin) popular... who the hell cares? Is THAT gonna save your ass when you step between the ropes? (Beep) no. Do we give the slightest (beep) about what the fans think? (Beep) no. GXW fans eat more (beep) than a two dollar hooker. And the sad thing is, now that we've got fans from other (beep)y promotions coming into this... there's an even better chance some more dip(beep)s are going to fall in love with you. I mean, why wouldn't they... you're characters they can relate to... inbred (beep)wads who are a few chromosomes shy of 23.
Osiris: But hey, you wanna continue to suck your own (beep)s, you go right ahead. You can sell all the shirts you want, claim you're down with "monsta country", come out in matching pink tutus, do whatever the (beep) you want... and we'll still hand you your asses. So much for your little return...
Orion: Nah, wait... it was "big comeback". That's right... BIG (beep)ing comeback... that absolutely nobody gives a (beep) about. Why the (beep) you think we didn't even pay you mind after you came stomping into our match?
Osiris: (in his best Farrell voice) Bcuz day r doo doo heds, Buff?
Orion: Because you two just aren't (beep)in' worth it. As bad as this may sound... I couldn't really give less of a (beep) if you two just up and (beep)ing died right now. What the hell, would we lose an integral part of the division? Hell no. GXW obviously needs you about as much as it needs Reuben Fasco. I heard YOU TWO were the ones who initiated the negotiations, and I can't say I was the least bit surprised.
Osiris: What does that say about you as GXW Tag Team title material? That you just aren't... that's what. Sorry to burst your bubble, but you're about as reliable as a knife in a gunfight. What happens if you win the titles and somebody comes along to take 'em from you yet again? You gonna' cry like a bunch of (beep)es and run to Major Championship Wrestling, only to beg your way back to a spot on the roster several months later? There's NOWHERE left for you to go fellas... NO MCW... no running from the fact that you suck complete ass.
Orion: And for as unreliable as you two are, the fans are just as (beep)ing stupid. So be it if they wanna support the two men who turned their back on this place to wrestle some lesser talent. Doesn't matter, I guess, if you decide to call the fans a bunch of donkey-raping (beep)eaters one week, next week you just say you wanna come back to them and they'll forgive you wholeheartedly. (Beep) that. If that's what you call fans, you can (beep)in' keep em.
Osiris: At battleground, it won't matter how many people are chantin' Monsta Boyz, or how many signs you see that have your names on them... because either way we're going to kick the MONSTA (BEEP) outta' you.
Orion: And hey girls, let us know when that supposed train of yours comes rollin' through... because we've been waitin' 8 months and it still hasn't got here.
Orion and Osiris jump into the black Chevelle, driving off into the night. Fade to black.
Fade in. The camera slides along the streamline curves of a glossy black Chevelle. As it nears the hood of the car, we see two individuals who have been absent from GXW in the past weeks. Orion and Osiris, the Assassins as most know them, are dressed in their familiar black suits, hair pulled back into tight ponytails. The moon shines down upon the two, casting faint shadows upon the car. Both men stare intensely at the camera, arms crossed in front of their chests.
Orion: Well girls, indeed it HAS been awhile.
Osiris: Sorry to say, we haven't missed you in the (beep)in' slightest.
Orion: But to answer your question Buffercup, we've been doin' just fine.
Osiris: You know... you're right bout somethin' Buffy... I WAS going to talk about how the last time we met we whipped your asses, but thanks man, you touched on it nicely... it's good that we can move on to other things.
Orion: Farrell...
Orion smacks his head and shakes it slightly.
Osiris: ... you are quite possibly the dumbest mother (beep)er I've ever met. I would have given that award to Buffy the Cupcake slayer over there, but you simply edged him out in sheer girth. "Comparin' us to you is like comparin' a nuclear missile to a slingshot". Holy (beep)... where the hell did you pull that one out of Fat? Were you always that frickin' witty, or did you pick that up over in MCW?
Orion: Alright 'Siris, everyone and their mother knows they're fullb-blown retarded... let's talk about the big question here. So it seems you've jumped the fence once or twice, doesn't it boys? Today you're spitting on fans, tomorrow you're giving handjobs to the front row. You think because you came back wearing lilac and perrywinkle (beep)in' dress shirts instead of your normal garb that you meant anything different to anyone? You still (beep)in' suck, and we're still going to whip your ass. It doesn't matter if you come in here sucking off each and every GXW fan that turns on a television set. It doesn't (beep)ing MATTER if the fans love what you have to offer... because quite frankly, we think it's complete horse(beep).
Osiris: So you need the fans, huh?
Osiris raises a single eyebrow.
Osiris: Funny, I woulda thought the only thing you'd need would be set of (beep)in' balls. Yeah, we kicked the crap out of you last time you were here, and we'll leave it at that. But after that you two little twats decided to elope or some (beep), and you were gone and forgotten. Nobody could have gave a (beep) if you came back. But sure enough, Global Warfare rolls around, and you being the (beep)ing parasitic leaches you are, decide it's time to haul your asses down to the ring. Granted, it may have taken 5 minutes just for Fat to GET THERE... but you were involved, none the less.
Orion: And see, that's just the **** we're talkin' bout fellas. You left like a bunch of *****es, you come BACK like a bunch of *****es. You're the same piece of (beep) team we beat 8 months ago, and you're still the same pussies who ran away when things got heavy. So like we said... unless those new getups of yours came with a set of grapefruits, you're sadly still in need.
Osiris: But that's right... "the Monsta Boyz put asses in seats"... why would anything else matter, huh? Why the (beep) should we care if the rednecks of cross-burning Burmingham or nascar watchin sofa sitters in South Carolina actually like us? You can keep that ****, son, cuz it's for the birds.
Orion: Seriously... so you're (beepin) popular... who the hell cares? Is THAT gonna save your ass when you step between the ropes? (Beep) no. Do we give the slightest (beep) about what the fans think? (Beep) no. GXW fans eat more (beep) than a two dollar hooker. And the sad thing is, now that we've got fans from other (beep)y promotions coming into this... there's an even better chance some more dip(beep)s are going to fall in love with you. I mean, why wouldn't they... you're characters they can relate to... inbred (beep)wads who are a few chromosomes shy of 23.
Osiris: But hey, you wanna continue to suck your own (beep)s, you go right ahead. You can sell all the shirts you want, claim you're down with "monsta country", come out in matching pink tutus, do whatever the (beep) you want... and we'll still hand you your asses. So much for your little return...
Orion: Nah, wait... it was "big comeback". That's right... BIG (beep)ing comeback... that absolutely nobody gives a (beep) about. Why the (beep) you think we didn't even pay you mind after you came stomping into our match?
Osiris: (in his best Farrell voice) Bcuz day r doo doo heds, Buff?
Orion: Because you two just aren't (beep)in' worth it. As bad as this may sound... I couldn't really give less of a (beep) if you two just up and (beep)ing died right now. What the hell, would we lose an integral part of the division? Hell no. GXW obviously needs you about as much as it needs Reuben Fasco. I heard YOU TWO were the ones who initiated the negotiations, and I can't say I was the least bit surprised.
Osiris: What does that say about you as GXW Tag Team title material? That you just aren't... that's what. Sorry to burst your bubble, but you're about as reliable as a knife in a gunfight. What happens if you win the titles and somebody comes along to take 'em from you yet again? You gonna' cry like a bunch of (beep)es and run to Major Championship Wrestling, only to beg your way back to a spot on the roster several months later? There's NOWHERE left for you to go fellas... NO MCW... no running from the fact that you suck complete ass.
Orion: And for as unreliable as you two are, the fans are just as (beep)ing stupid. So be it if they wanna support the two men who turned their back on this place to wrestle some lesser talent. Doesn't matter, I guess, if you decide to call the fans a bunch of donkey-raping (beep)eaters one week, next week you just say you wanna come back to them and they'll forgive you wholeheartedly. (Beep) that. If that's what you call fans, you can (beep)in' keep em.
Osiris: At battleground, it won't matter how many people are chantin' Monsta Boyz, or how many signs you see that have your names on them... because either way we're going to kick the MONSTA (BEEP) outta' you.
Orion: And hey girls, let us know when that supposed train of yours comes rollin' through... because we've been waitin' 8 months and it still hasn't got here.
Orion and Osiris jump into the black Chevelle, driving off into the night. Fade to black.
JABolich
League Member
... 
(FADEIN: A parking lot somewhere. Parked in the center of the lot is a HUGE teal-and-turquoise monster truck with "MONSTA TRUCK" written on the side in jagged red letters. BUFF BELLOWS and FAT FARRELL each lean against one of the truck's behemoth tires.)
Buff Bellows: Question for the peeps. Does anyone else out there see the irony in the 'Sassins tellin' US we suck, considering they're still one for three against us?
Fat Farrell: Well, mang, den dey must suck even more for losin' to us twice!
Buff Bellows: Too true. Now let's get down ta business an' cut apart the latest 'Sassiny masterpiece. So, kids... welcome to "Dismantling Generic 'Sassins Promos 101"! I'm yer prof, Buff Bellows, an' this is my grader, Fat Farrell.
Fat Farrell: No make-up tests!
Buff Bellows: Alright. What's first on the docket, Grader Farrell?
(Fat pulls out a notepad and squints exaggeratedly at it.)
Fat Farrell: First item is-
Buff Bellows: Wait wait wait, let me guess. Retard jokes, right?
Fat Farrell: Correct! You win da prize!
Buff Bellows: Keep it. It's pretty easy ta guess, anyway. Come on, 'Sassins. What else ya got for us, eh? Fat jokes? Gay jokes? Gonna point at me an' call me a big doodoo head? What a couple a' children. Get a life. Grow up, too. Retard was a cool insult in third grade.
Okay. What's next.
Fat Farrell: Uh... some crap about how we change gimmicks at the drop of a dime an' how the fans don't mean sh*t.
Buff Bellows: I saw that coming - an' fortunately, I've prepared. I'll come out an' say right now that tryin'a give up on the fans was the stupidest thing we've ever done. Why do ya think we're back with what works?
As for the fans... Tell me, guys. Have ya ever stopped an' really listened ta those fans? Have ya ever stepped through the curtain an' had the entire arena screamin' yer name at the top of their lungs? Take it from me... There's no feelin' like it in the world. There's just a rush that comes with knowin' that we're makin' people all over the world happy. It's euphoric, man. When ya feel that, ya just start thinkin'... "Man, this is the best feeling in the world." It's like a drug. You'll do anything ta get more. In our case, that means constantly goin' beyond our best day in an' day out ta make those people get outta their seats and cheer their asses off.
But you wouldn't understand what that's like, would ya? No... you two just shlub through yer careers lookin' out for number one - just like everyone else. An' that's why you SUCK. You don't know what it's like ta go out there an' feel the rush an' hear the roar of ten or twenty thousand people screamin' yer name. You two just go out there, throw a couple suplexes, an' collect yer paychecks. An' you call yerselves wrestlers. Without all those fans out there, you wouldn't even BE here. Without people like Buff Bellows an' Fat Farrell ta bring 'em in an' make 'em happy, you'd be sittin' in a poor-house somewhere with the Boss - remember him? - playin' yer stolen copy of Rainbow Six on yer stolen Playstation hooked up ta yer stolen TV an tellin' each other, "Man, we're real Assassins!"
It's self-serving sh*t-sacks like Orion and Osiris who're what's wrong with this sport. An' it's people like Buff Bellows an' Fat Farrell who actually know what it's about - the people. An' as long as we have them cheerin' us on, we're gonna steamroll the tag division like a freight train.
Fat Farrell: Man, without da peeps, there wouldn't be no wrestlin'.
Buff Bellows: Right on, man. So what's next on the list?
Fat Farrell: Hm... we ain't worth it an' we came crawlin' back ta GXW.
Buff Bellows: Ohhhhh yeaaaaahhhh, we came crawlin' back. We crawled right back in an' beat the hell out of ya both on international Pay-Per-View! Though really, the only crawlin' I recall was you two crawlin around on the floor pickin' up yer missin' teeth. An' as for you not payin' us any mind after the match - I doubt yer reasoning. The REASON ya didn't get back at us was because...
YOU GOT CARRIED OUT ON STRETCHERS, YOU F*CKING C*CKMASTERS!!!
Not worth it my ass. Next time ya wanna cover yer butts, try it with somethin' OTHER than Generic Excuse Number Two.
As for us apparently not bein' worth anything - Apparently, Dupree and Zieba disagree, seein' as we were brought back an' immediately allowed a tag title shot, in which we gave the Carnival a run for their money even WITHOUT our usual fan support. Add that to the fact that we remain two for three against you an' will be three for four after Battleground, the fact that Monsta Boyz merchandise outsells Assassins merch by a huge margin, an' the fact that we actually CARE about entertainin' the fans, an' I think we can safely conclude that the Monsta Boyz are worth a LOT more to GXW than the 'Sassins.
Okay. What other dumb crap have they tossed at us, Grader Farrell?
Fat Farrell: Mm, dey say dey don't care 'bout us.
Buff Bellows: Good. Means we'll stomp 'em that much easier. But honestly, 'Sassins, we don't care that you don't care. All we're interested in is whippin' yer asses a third time, takin' our title shot, an' givin' those fans a match ta remember. Though I'm sure they wouldn't mind if we squashed you, so that's always an option.
Fat Farrell: Remember, kiddies: You ain't nothin'. You ain't EVEN nothin'. You's just... bleh.
Buff Bellows: Okay, Grader Farrell. What grade do we give these kids?
Fat Farrell: Hmm... F. For foos.
Buff Bellows: Apropos.
Fat Farrell: I know.
Buff Bellows: So go ahead, 'Sassin foos. Sit there an' mock a dead fed, make fat jokes, an' talk about how yer sooooo cool despite the fact that ya don't even realize what's important in wrestling. But we're still gonna whip ya from post to post in jolly old England. We'll crack open a few beers for ya at the victory party, though. Hell, maybe we'll even let ya come party with us once we take the Carnival's titles back.
But somehow, I think yer gonna be too busy.
Nursin' yer wounded pride.
AN' THAT'S THE BOTTOM LIIIIINE... SO YOU'D BETTA BE-LIEEEEEEEEVE IT!!!
(FADEOUT)
(FADEIN: A parking lot somewhere. Parked in the center of the lot is a HUGE teal-and-turquoise monster truck with "MONSTA TRUCK" written on the side in jagged red letters. BUFF BELLOWS and FAT FARRELL each lean against one of the truck's behemoth tires.)
Buff Bellows: Question for the peeps. Does anyone else out there see the irony in the 'Sassins tellin' US we suck, considering they're still one for three against us?
Fat Farrell: Well, mang, den dey must suck even more for losin' to us twice!
Buff Bellows: Too true. Now let's get down ta business an' cut apart the latest 'Sassiny masterpiece. So, kids... welcome to "Dismantling Generic 'Sassins Promos 101"! I'm yer prof, Buff Bellows, an' this is my grader, Fat Farrell.
Fat Farrell: No make-up tests!
Buff Bellows: Alright. What's first on the docket, Grader Farrell?
(Fat pulls out a notepad and squints exaggeratedly at it.)
Fat Farrell: First item is-
Buff Bellows: Wait wait wait, let me guess. Retard jokes, right?
Fat Farrell: Correct! You win da prize!
Buff Bellows: Keep it. It's pretty easy ta guess, anyway. Come on, 'Sassins. What else ya got for us, eh? Fat jokes? Gay jokes? Gonna point at me an' call me a big doodoo head? What a couple a' children. Get a life. Grow up, too. Retard was a cool insult in third grade.
Okay. What's next.
Fat Farrell: Uh... some crap about how we change gimmicks at the drop of a dime an' how the fans don't mean sh*t.
Buff Bellows: I saw that coming - an' fortunately, I've prepared. I'll come out an' say right now that tryin'a give up on the fans was the stupidest thing we've ever done. Why do ya think we're back with what works?
As for the fans... Tell me, guys. Have ya ever stopped an' really listened ta those fans? Have ya ever stepped through the curtain an' had the entire arena screamin' yer name at the top of their lungs? Take it from me... There's no feelin' like it in the world. There's just a rush that comes with knowin' that we're makin' people all over the world happy. It's euphoric, man. When ya feel that, ya just start thinkin'... "Man, this is the best feeling in the world." It's like a drug. You'll do anything ta get more. In our case, that means constantly goin' beyond our best day in an' day out ta make those people get outta their seats and cheer their asses off.
But you wouldn't understand what that's like, would ya? No... you two just shlub through yer careers lookin' out for number one - just like everyone else. An' that's why you SUCK. You don't know what it's like ta go out there an' feel the rush an' hear the roar of ten or twenty thousand people screamin' yer name. You two just go out there, throw a couple suplexes, an' collect yer paychecks. An' you call yerselves wrestlers. Without all those fans out there, you wouldn't even BE here. Without people like Buff Bellows an' Fat Farrell ta bring 'em in an' make 'em happy, you'd be sittin' in a poor-house somewhere with the Boss - remember him? - playin' yer stolen copy of Rainbow Six on yer stolen Playstation hooked up ta yer stolen TV an tellin' each other, "Man, we're real Assassins!"
It's self-serving sh*t-sacks like Orion and Osiris who're what's wrong with this sport. An' it's people like Buff Bellows an' Fat Farrell who actually know what it's about - the people. An' as long as we have them cheerin' us on, we're gonna steamroll the tag division like a freight train.
Fat Farrell: Man, without da peeps, there wouldn't be no wrestlin'.
Buff Bellows: Right on, man. So what's next on the list?
Fat Farrell: Hm... we ain't worth it an' we came crawlin' back ta GXW.
Buff Bellows: Ohhhhh yeaaaaahhhh, we came crawlin' back. We crawled right back in an' beat the hell out of ya both on international Pay-Per-View! Though really, the only crawlin' I recall was you two crawlin around on the floor pickin' up yer missin' teeth. An' as for you not payin' us any mind after the match - I doubt yer reasoning. The REASON ya didn't get back at us was because...
YOU GOT CARRIED OUT ON STRETCHERS, YOU F*CKING C*CKMASTERS!!!
Not worth it my ass. Next time ya wanna cover yer butts, try it with somethin' OTHER than Generic Excuse Number Two.
As for us apparently not bein' worth anything - Apparently, Dupree and Zieba disagree, seein' as we were brought back an' immediately allowed a tag title shot, in which we gave the Carnival a run for their money even WITHOUT our usual fan support. Add that to the fact that we remain two for three against you an' will be three for four after Battleground, the fact that Monsta Boyz merchandise outsells Assassins merch by a huge margin, an' the fact that we actually CARE about entertainin' the fans, an' I think we can safely conclude that the Monsta Boyz are worth a LOT more to GXW than the 'Sassins.
Okay. What other dumb crap have they tossed at us, Grader Farrell?
Fat Farrell: Mm, dey say dey don't care 'bout us.
Buff Bellows: Good. Means we'll stomp 'em that much easier. But honestly, 'Sassins, we don't care that you don't care. All we're interested in is whippin' yer asses a third time, takin' our title shot, an' givin' those fans a match ta remember. Though I'm sure they wouldn't mind if we squashed you, so that's always an option.
Fat Farrell: Remember, kiddies: You ain't nothin'. You ain't EVEN nothin'. You's just... bleh.
Buff Bellows: Okay, Grader Farrell. What grade do we give these kids?
Fat Farrell: Hmm... F. For foos.
Buff Bellows: Apropos.
Fat Farrell: I know.
Buff Bellows: So go ahead, 'Sassin foos. Sit there an' mock a dead fed, make fat jokes, an' talk about how yer sooooo cool despite the fact that ya don't even realize what's important in wrestling. But we're still gonna whip ya from post to post in jolly old England. We'll crack open a few beers for ya at the victory party, though. Hell, maybe we'll even let ya come party with us once we take the Carnival's titles back.
But somehow, I think yer gonna be too busy.
Nursin' yer wounded pride.
AN' THAT'S THE BOTTOM LIIIIINE... SO YOU'D BETTA BE-LIEEEEEEEEVE IT!!!
(FADEOUT)