BAD World Heavyweight Championship: File v Johnson (c)

[TheOriginalSE]

All RP for the BAD World Heavyweight Championship match between PETER FILE and STEVE JOHNSON (c) at Unplugged should be done in this folder. Any RP posted outside of the folder will not count.



The RP deadline is 11:59pm PST on SATURDAY, July 18th, 2009. Angles should be sent to wfwnewrestling@gmail.com ..

 

[Alex Miami]

(Fade into Steve Johnson standing sweaty in his wrestling gear after is match at Raucous. He seems to have made a bit of a mess in the locker room with dented lockers and overthrown benches. Johnson has his back to the camera. He turns around to face the camera.)
Outstanding.! My debut back and I was f…... give me one second

(Takes a deep breath and his blue eyes seem to calm.)

<?XML:NAMESPACE PREFIX = O /><O< p O<>My debut back to WFW, was not what I expected. The federation treated me with disrespect by forcing me to jerk curtain. They put me in a match against Alex Wylde, and then I am sure in effort to bring back their franchise, had the referee turn a blind eye to all of his cheating. Its great to see that of all the champions, I am the only feeling like Rodney Dangerfield.
So the company in an effort to attempt ultimate humiliation assigns my first title defense against Peter File. ( A quizzical look on his face) I mean are they serious?


Honestly, I feel like filing an injunction against defending my title against this… sexual offender. Honestly, this is another sign that the New Era of WFW is out of touch with what wrestling fans want. People come here to be entertained, give their kids someone to look up too. Instead, WFW has to move all the kids 500 feet away from the ring when Peter File walks to the ring. Is this really the signal this organization wants to send to the rest of the world? Every paycheck management signs is not only a slap in the face of decency, but blatant disrespect to all of us bleed and sweat in honor of the fans.


(With a disgusted look in his face as if he had sucked on a lemon)


When Peter File spills blood and sweat, I am sure he has not only violated decency, but probably his victim. Well Peter, I am not a victim or a conquest, I am someone who is willing to beat the masochist out of you, but considerate enough to drop off your unconscious body at the psych ward when I am done with you. To be honest with you, I had never heard of you, and now that I have I am sorry I did. Not because I am scared of you, but because I am disgusted that you even have a contract. I am disgusted by the fact that you will enjoy if I wail on you, and worse I am disgusted by the thought of even thinking what you will do to innocent children and confused drunks after I beat you.


(Sits down on the bench and rests his back against a dented locker. He rests his head in his hands for a few seconds, and then slowly lifts his head and has an intense look in his eyes.)


I am tired Peter. I am tired of reaching a pinnacle, and then because of circumstances out of my control, like WFW closing, or Alex Wylde cheating, that my career suffers. I feel that at 26, I have accomplished more and lost more than most people my age. When I tore my rotator cuff my sophomore year of college I had to rally back to eventually become a national wrestling champion at “The” Ohio State University. At 23 I became the BAD Heavyweight champion and right after I won, WFW folded. I come back to WFW after a 3 year layoff and then get cheated by Alex Wylde.


File I will be ready for you, but I won’t let the rules of this match determine its outcome. The more you go after blood and violence, the more I will employ arm bars and triangle chokes. For every chair shot I will try to suplex you from angles you have never seen. If you try to violate me or the fans, I will pile drive you strong enough from the top rope, so that getting you to the psych ward won’t be the concern but filling out your coroner’s report will be.

(Fade to Black)
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[PeterFile]

(Fade In: Close up of a faded INXS t-shirt, with stains dating back to the Reagen administration. As the camera gently zooms out, we begin to recognize the physique of Peter File as he stands in cutoff jean shorts, Nike Air sneakers and his ratty hair standing in attention in as many directions as gravity can take it. In the middle of a brightly lit parking lot File stands in front of a purple Dodge Ram Van with a dented front panel and oil leaking to the tips of his shoes. Peter begins to giggle with anticipation as the camera seems to nod for him to begin.)

<style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } --> </style> File: Oh.. it is I, the one, the only.. the unconscionable stealer of dreams, dealer of deviance, wetter of beds, the conductor of .. well.. perhaps all the metaphors and similes in the world can't truly describe me, myself, and I. But.. it is quite obvious that I am Peter J. File, and we can all sit around on our evenings discussing the significance of my middle initial, pondering it like a great theorist would a world dilemma.. Oh... it would be so fun, delightful even. Tra-la-la-diddily-la ladies, gentlemen and mmm.. children of all ages under fifteen.

<style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } --> </style> I come to you from these glorious streets on this stellar evening to discuss the issue that lay upon me. An issue that is well.. not near and dear to my heart, but one that has alluded me for a career that has spanned the John Holmes of a time frame. That is .. a nice.. mmm.. thick.. studded.. leathery ugghh... strap around my waist. Something for me to stare at, all the children to gawk at.. and the lockeroom to be jealous of.. as if those late night showers together weren't giving them enough envy. My darlings.. I have been brought on a journey, and it looks as if Birmingham, in the tree lined, Southern-fried, grits n' gravy capital of.. Alabama.. mmm.. shall be the home to such a loooooooong.. mmm.. awaited achievement.

(Peter begins to smile with a grin that reaches seemingly beyond his face.)

File: <style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } --></style>But first, there are some technicalities that must be attended to.. the most obvious is my travel, but it is obvious that someone within the WFW: New Era will mask me in the night and smuggle me across state borders. Second through tenth are all wardrobe related issues.. so I guess, eleventh would be my opponent at Buttplugged.. the current B.A.D. World Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeavyweight Cham-PEEnis of tha' Wa-wa-wa-wa-waaaaaaa-orld.. Steve Johnson? What.. c'mon, a little help in the gimmick department my friends.. this isn't Japan. Hmm.. well let us hope he isn't like most men I've seen in certain Japanese films.. a wink wink.. nudgey, nudgey.

<style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } --> </style> (File raises his hands up in the shape of a phallus.)

File: Ahem. It seems that one man wrecking crew known as S. Johnson or, Stevey A. is upset that he had to jerk the curtain off and face Alex Wylde, only to be double teamed by the referee and his inability to wrap his muscular arms around his opponent. Aww.. booo hoo! Mmm.. it can be said that I've wrapped my hands around much big packs of meat in my day and still come out on top, and.. unfortunately, but sometimes fortunately, the bottom. Now now now.. my friend Stevey, you're upset that Peter File is your opponent.. that you must defend your title against me. It seems as if, at least how you talk about me, that you'd be ecstatic, filled with glee, dancing on the tips of your toes a-la M.J. YOU the greatest big man in sports, gets to man handle me in the center of the ring.. shouldn't such ease come as a godsend to you? After all, it has been quite a while since you've defended that nice shiny belt buckle.. you could be a tad bit rusty around the ol' pipe-a-roonies.

<style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } --> </style> (File stares at the ground, kicking pebbles out of his purview, shaking his head in a horizontal fashion.)

File: You're speaking the same tired lines that many opponents have used against me.. "Oh he's gay!" "Oh he does that! Ew!" "I don't want his mouth near my di.." "Wow.. I've never seen one that large!" and many other catchphrases. It starts to sound like Welcome Back Kotter reruns on TV Land.. I mean gosh, up
your nose with a rubber hose! Ugh..

<style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } --> </style> (File turns his head towards the camera, cocking it towards the lens.)

File: Listen. If kids wanted role models they'd pick firefighters, union organizers, civil rights leaders.. not faux superheroes in tights, torn pants and backwards caps. We're not here to be model citizens.. we're here to do what pays the bills.. ENTER-TAIN.. something you failed to learn in all your years 'training' to become a professional wrestler.. a real craftsman. You wanted to be like Bob Villa, but instead you're just another Norm Abram. Pity. So darling Stevey, come bring me to any padded room of your choosing.. I can only hope that you're there strap.. .mmmm.. strraaapping me in, and seducing me with each wrench of the binds. Y'see, I am no masochist baby girl.. but I've been known to enjoy a whoopin' from time to time, and not even with a hollerin'.

<style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } --> </style> (Peter does a one man line dance in a mocking nature.)

File: You keep *****in', complaining, blah blah blahing your way around the NEW Era.. but you're still full of the same old garbage. "Wah! Cheater!" is all I hear from that perfectly structured jaw of yours as it flaps away with succulent lips. Now, what kind of role model are you for the children if all you can teach them to do is complain when something doesn't go your way? Perhaps the only role you want is someone who pretends to care.. a phony, hmm.. Stevey A. Phony could be your new gimmick.. it has a certain ring.. a lingual masterpiece at its finest.

Now please don't fret to call 1-800-PETER-69 and give me your tips, tricks, ideas, sexual fantasies, equations for thermonuclear devices or a friendly.. hehehe.. chit-chat-a-roonie-doon!

Till next time my lovely bunch of miscreants.. this is your loyal, groveling and always eager Peter J. File signing off.

(Fade Out)

 

[Alex Miami]

Who has the tired gimmicks?

(Fade in to Steve Johnson standing in the parking lot of BJCC arena. Above him glows a sign advertising Unplugged. On the marquis flashes each match. Johnson staring at the sign is wearing black Adidas warm up pants, black Nike Shox, a faded red Ohio State cap backwards, and a black sleeveless Underarmor shirt. As his name flashes on the marquis indicating he is the BAD Heavyweight Champion, he seems to stare and smile.)


Now that is class. It’s a shame the WFW is to busy bilking out every dime of their stars, that only the fans in Alabama will be able to enjoy the show. I mean can you believe this crap… twittering the show. It seems like our ownership, is doing everything possible to maintain their profit share and continue paying the wrestlers oppressive salaries. How much money does each member of the share add to their 401k by twittering this instead of putting us on TV. Hell, there are 3 title defenses on the card. Legends like King Krusher, Larry Tact, and hell even Jared Wells. (Points to the flashing billboard) I see so much talent on this billboard that I am shocked the best we could do is twitter this event. The worst thing about twittering this event is that no one will get to see the show I put on as I defend my championship.


It is so obvious Peter, so blatantly obvious. You may say all your opponents sound the same, but its because you haven’t evolved. You wear the same clothes you were in the 80s, you smell worse than the hacky sack hippies we wouldn’t let in to our parties in college, and the people you date are the same age now as they were in the 80s. You say I am some old tired gimmick, but what are you? Have you changed? You are all big words and shock value. You try to sicken your opponents so you have a psychological advantage, and if that doesn’t work you will cheat to maintain that edge. I say that your gimmick just makes you predictable.

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See I don’t care if you are gay. I don’t care if you pitch or catch or are a top or bottom. What I do take offense with is how you entertain. I don’t think people pay 40 dollars to come see you. I think its more likely you would pay $40 to see them. I don’t think the fans want to watch you wrestle as much as they want you to suffer. While your matches usually develop into some disaster pornography, where you, your opponent, and the fans get off on you being covered in blood, I won’t allow you your fix on my watch. I said it before, and I will say it again, this may be a BAD match, but it is still a WRESTLING MATCH. You can’t line dance your way out of this one, Peter, I am here to give you a serious wrestling match. I am here to finish you off the way King Krusher wanted too.


Peter unlike you, I have a lot to prove. I am trying to create a legacy. Unlike you, I have to follow in the footsteps of Jared Wells who held this title for almost 3 years. That means I have a great responsibility to the fans to put on the best match of the night the way he did. I can’t lose my title in my first defense, and since I have home field advantage being the champion you have to beat me at my game. Can you do that Peter? Can you wrestle without cheapshots involving microphones? Can you wrestle without your opponent fearing your persona? When the bell rings, you will find that I am like nothing you have ever faced.


Peter I wrestle for love of the game, but I will beat you for the love of the fans.

(Fade out as Steve Johnson begins to walk away from the camera towards the arena.)

 

[PeterFile]

(Fade In: Our strapping young lad, Peter File is seen flicking his fingers against a wall and shaking his rear end, which is slightly exposed in stone washed short shorts. He is vaguely reminiscent of a young George Michael.)

File: Stevey, I must agree with you.. the WFW: New Era does a shotty job at promoting themselves, I mean heck.. a File v. Johnson should be seen in many homes.. even though me versus a johnson has generally resulted in a restraining order or two, depending on which school district you're in of course.. luckily we're in Alabama and to my knowledge there are few and far between.. I hope. But, on the safe side we'll change your name from Slick Johnny to.. Slippery Willy, and I'm fairly certain that no one within a pickups distance of the venue would be able to tell the difference. Hell, I'm sure many more would show up just to see a Slippery Willy in person, dontcha' think my darling? I sure do.. but, only time can tell! Tickity-tock-around-the-clock!

<style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } --> </style> So hmm, let us how that Twitter comes in handy and that some fans decide to pack the arena with all their fudge covered hands. If they do, they can see some fine matches, many of which you've eluded to, and for those you haven't.. well, eh.. who cares? The only one that anyone truly cares for is that one between you and I, Stevey baby. The interwebs are buzzing with exciting, heck all the smart marks are already filling up their monthly forum quota with speculation on what will be the outcome of this highly anticipated sppppppppeeeeec-tack-ular! If only I were l33t enough, I could sign up and tell these young whippersnappers in their mothers basements that their idol shall win, and in all his glory make sure that the peepee soaked heck hole known as Steve Johnson finally receives that dreaded Rear Admiral he's been needing.

(Peter begins to laugh to himself, bringing it to a hacking conclusion.)

<style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } --> </style> File: welp, man.. that is got to be the best name for a finishing maneuver ever. Gosh, it is as if I'm the Stephen Hawking of finishers or something.. y'know minus the debilitating nervous disorder and robot voice. Hmm.. maybe I can bust a little jig for you at the show darling, and robot all over your face as you stare up at my gyrating crotch-o-doom! Boogey-oogey ooh! Anywhos. Like homo habilis coming out of the fields and turning into homo rudolfensis, I have evolved, even if your eyes haven't yet adjusted to the change. Y'see, while I am a fan of the 1980's and their seductively good pop hits, Reagen-era tax cuts and bottom feeding leach Wall Street power brokers.. I wouldn't exactly say that the era is still one for which I wish to once again rejoin. Who doesn't enjoy a Bananarama tune now and again? I sure do! So, just because my outer shell confuses you, perplexes you and from the sight of those nipples peeking through that mmm.. so tight shirt of yours, a little turned on.. doesn't mean there isn't more to meet the eye baby cakes. Listen, I am not here to sugarcoat things for you, or for anyone.

<style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } --> </style> Hmm.. there just seems to be one confusing thing about all you've said thus far, and that is how a man who had never heard of me a few days now seems to know all there is about me. This question has truly dogged me, for even though you're a college graduate.. I'm sure the Recreation and Leisure degree didn't require a lot of reading.. so you couldn't have found out about me that way.. and well lets face it.. if it wasn't Sporscenter I appeared on, you didn't watch any video. So, I guess you're just attempting to stereotype me, confine me, mmm.. BOX me.. oh my baby, you need to learn not to be so judgmental! The kids are watching! What will they learn from this! Tsk! Tsk! Tskity-tsk-tsk-shut up!

<style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } --> </style> You'll want to claim I cheat, yet there is no proof of me ever attempting to cheat to win. While cleanliness may not be a personal trait I aspire for, it is something I require in the ring.. for how else can anyone truly begin to appreciate an athlete for who he or she really is? I may be predictable, I may not be.. come Buttplugged we'll find out what you really think when we are no more than an arms length apart for our match.

<style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } --> </style> (Peter lifts his arms to the sky and begins to stretch, and yawn.)

File: I am so very tired of your remarks, they're dull like a British sitcom. My sexual appetite may not offend you, or even concern you on the surface.. but when you squeal like a pig under my mm... enormous girth we'll see if you turn the other cheek. Y'see, I've done my fair share of pitching.. catching.. bobbing for apples.. Tuscaloosa mudslides.. and Dutch ovens, and all the while entertained the millions across the world who have seen this... 'vitriol'... on their boob-tubes. They're probably more offended by the $40 ticket prices than a man parading his sexuality across the screen.. I mean, we're in a depression! FORTY WHOLE DOLLAS? What is this.. especially to see no-gimmicked jerkoffs play in tights?

<style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } --> </style> (In a nasally voice, Peter File begins to imitate that of Steve Johnson.)

File: To be honest with you, I had never heard of you, and now that I have I am sorry I did. A-ha. Stevey, again you point out how you've seen my matches develop into some sort of 'disaster pornography'.. which, I'm not sure what that is.. Katrina? Are you stalking me? You try to say you know nothing of me.. then know all about me.. and then have soiled sheets over the thought of me covered in blood, and God only knows what other secretions are coming from all your various orphases. See, I am a wrestler by trade, and you should know from all your late night fondle-fests that I am nothing but, and just as you say.. a BAD match or not.. there will be wrestling.. and the only thing hardcore will be the scene in the lockeroom after I pin you.. in the ring .. and mm.. in the back. I'm sure there are many in Province Town who would love to see you pinned in the back if you catch my drift.

I'll leave you with this my baby. You're the champeeeen, that is true.. and I'm apparently the novice, or so the card I've been dealt by you. Now, that is not troublesome to me, nor do I truly give it any second thought.. because we all know the first defense of your illustrious reign shall be your last.

(Fade Out)

 

[Alex Miami]

(Fade in to Steve Johnson’s hotel room. As the camera begins to pan around the room, immediately in vision is a sight of a perfectly made bed with a duffle bag lying on top of it. As the camera begins to zoom on Steve Johnson, he is doing push-ups in front of the bed. As the camera beings to focus on Johnson, he is barefoot, wearing only black mesh shorts. As the camera catches him doing his push-ups, it focuses on the BAD title, which is under his face. With each push-up, you can see Johnson almost kiss the belt. After what seems like a couple of push-ups, Johnson slowly stands to grab a towel in his right hand and clean himself up. In his left hand, he grabs the BAD title. After drying himself off and placing the title on his bed he begins to focus on the camera.)


I won’t lie, I am really nervous before my first title offense. I always focused so much on getting a title that I never once realized what it would mean to defend my title. Although I have thought of the many different ways I could lose my title, I think receiving a rear admiral is probably the worst way to go. Peter, I can begin to say why it is that I know so much about you, but could it be that after seeing the way you cheated against King Krusher, that perhaps I had an opportunity to study your game? I disrespect cheaters, especially when they try getting an upper hand against a legend of the game. See I may not know you that well, but when I call you out as a cheater, its not that difficult to see why, the evidence is damning.


As a boy I dreamt on numerous occasions of potential matchups against Ric Flair, Steve Austin, and Royce Gracie. They were all legends in their own time and in their own sports. In those matchups I always won. Yet when I woke up I never had a title in my hand. That all changed a few years ago, when I beat Jared Wells. Now that each morning I wake up with a reminder of not only that match, but of the legend I beat, I know that my dreams are now my responsibility. My responsibility is to never wake up from those dreams of glory, and from hearing fans chant my name with each pinfall or submission.

(He turns his back to the camera grabs a bottle of water and wipes his face down again.)

I honestly have no idea when anyone would pay to see you wrestle. I mean as far as you say, if anyone wants to see men of questionable sexual traits prance around an arena, they could watch male ice dancing, but in the case of our match, they will pay 40 bucks for me to beat you senseless, and I don’t mean with whips and chains.

(Laughs a little and gets serious again)


I am sorry; I am not good at cracking jokes. What I am good at, is wrestling. Even back at OSU I was a big deal on campus, because I could crack skulls and pin shoulders, not because I was popular. I didn’t get off on being so popular; my satisfaction came from being better than my opponent each time I entered the ring. Like you said I may have gotten my degree in Political Science, but I earned my PHD in the gym as a National Champion.

You say you want this to be a wrestling match, then I challenge you to keep it in the squared circle. I challenge you to not to cheat, not to run mysterious attacks, and not to rely on foreign objects to control the pace. This may be a BAD rules match, but you have talked a big game about “cleanliness” in the ring, so lets see it. I promise you though, if you try to do to mee what you did before your match with Krusher, I will make you pay and injure what means most to you.

(His scowl briefly turns into a smile as he mockingly licks his lip the way Peter File does.)

You know what I am tired of is hearing you talk about how you cruise schoolyards for dates. I guarantee, that win, lose, or draw, I will make you writhe in agony for every time you referenced underage kids as conquests leading up to this match. In certain cases, there are some things more important than winning, and in this case, it’s the fans or the children of the fans who you profile every time you lick your lips. Unlike you, I think King Krusher was right in your last match, the fans still want heroes, and in that regard, they need heroes like me, to keep people like you, from having a bully pulpit to justify your whims and desires.


I think the “New Era” of WFW may be awfully misguided by giving you a shot at my title, I also think, and that I may have spent too much time dignifying your lecherous desires. See like I said in my last promo I don’t care if you are gay that is your choice. I don’t care that you are attracted to every guy in this locker room. Although I would hate to think what kind of fantasy’s you conjure up with Golem’s claw.
<O
(Chuckles again)

Instead tonight when I lay my head on the pillow, I will think of how the fans will cheer after I have pinned your shoulders to the canvas for a 1-2-3. When I celebrate my first successful title defense, tomorrow night it will be with all of those people who stayed true to me when I started wrestling in WFW, and through the long lay off. But even more than those people cheering for me, it will be for all of those fans who hate you and hope you lose. My win will be for all of those people who have been victimized by people like you.
<O
(He pauses briefly and stares slowly into the camera. As he does this he gets an intense look in his eye.)

When this match is over, you will realize…………. I wrestle for love of the game, but I will beat you for the love of the fans.

 

[PeterFile]

OOC: I have to laugh, because I really do hold a degree in Political Science.

(Fade In: Outside of the Birmingham-Jefferson Convention Complex, its pale khaki colored walls gleaming in the mid-summer night, as the surrounding lights bounce off its faded facade. In the distance a slight rumbling can be heard, as it gets closer the camera begins to pan and the image of a 1976 rusted Dodge Charger comes in to view. Its spoiler casting an ominous shadow upon the pavement, the brick color of the rust matching with that of the walls around it. Suddenly the car pulls in front of the complex, its engine purring and sputtering all in one violent mix. A man in overalls, no shoes and a trucker cap exits from the drive side door and walks towards the trunk. After pulling a screwdriver from his pocket, he begins to jimmy open the lock and from the depths come a familiar face, that of Peter File, who is dressed in denim shorts, a fanny pack and a white tank top. Around his neck he sports a Polaroid camera, and adorned to his head is a green visor. Shaking the hand of the driver he begins to walk towards the camera.)

File: Welp, it seems I've finally made it to the hmm.. I guess, REGIONALLY famous BJCC Arena in beautiful Birmingham, Alabama. Home to such great American historical moments as.. Segregation, lynching, hating people because they're different, intolerance, ignorance and so many other beautiful moments that we could fill a book with all those tasty nuggets of gold. In just a few hours some of the decedents of those slack jawed yokels will fill the 17,000 seats that adorn the inside of this arena.. and they'll have the pleasure.. mmm.. thats right, the P-L-E-A-S-U-R-E of seeing some of wrestlings finest machines battling for glory. It just happens that one of those men is little ol', P-to-the-File. Soon enough the BAD World Heavyweight Championship will be wrapped around my narrow waist and all the groveling masses will begin to kiss their way up my legs till they.. mmm HIT DA' SPOT! Am I right? Am I right? Hmm.. perhaps I should keep my voice down, I hear they don't like uppity folks around here.. tends to lead to fires and what not. Wouldn't you agree my darling Stevey?

This is a perfect place for your first title.. 'offense' as you so eloquently stated! This town has such a colorful history, even though for a long time it wanted to ignore that color, but anywho.. this could be the place where one of us makes history, or one of us goes home with a tail tucked between their tender thighs. At least though.. you've come to realize a dreaded rear admiral is defiantly something that could force you into obscurity, well more obscurity than that little place you call home now. The same little home you sit at and conjure stories of me being a cheater.. wah-wah-wah what a child. The only thing that got cheated were the fans, they weren't able to see me bend that legend over and teach him a lil' something... SOOOOOOOOOOOOWEEEEEEEEEEEE. Squeal for me Kingy! But alas, that all can be directed towards you.. mmmmmm, I can't wait.

(Peter makes a large grin and giggles to himself before continuing.)

File: Darling. Your dreams are something to seem to turn you on, truly get your motor working and create a rush inside your downtown. For, those legends you name seem to have made your youth more enjoyable and always gave you that odd morning sensation, and a lot of bills for the dry cleaner. Unless of course your mother was good at scrubbing, and by the looks of your knees.. she seems to have had strong ones herself. Hmm, the pressure you put upon yourself seems to create a much higher standard, for well.. lets just say it, someone who's standards equate to a moped ride. As a college boy, I'm sure you may have taken one or two in your day.. but just don't tell your friends, fatties are a no-no!

Y'know, you're quite the comedian, perhaps you should have majored in theater.. but then again, your comfortability around homosexuals leads me to believe you took a class or two, and maybe even studied behind stage.. a winkity winkity. You do hold a degree in Political Science, the department of honor students and football players.. where you question Bakunin, Washington and Marx. It is my hope though, that after our match the only marks you can remember are those across your chest as I dig myself into it... mmmm.. licking at each ripple of muscle.

Now.. if you don't mind, I've got places to see, sights that need exploring.. perhaps a cave or two, I even hear that the churches here don't burn like they used to. Bye bye darling.

(Fade Out)

 

[Alex Miami]

I mean I would have gone general studies, or communication, but now a days its jsut so easy to hate on politics.

I did actually see that OSU has a golf course management major.

F'n Buckeyes

 

[PeterFile]

I found it really funny actually. I'm actually going to get my Masters in Political Science soon as well, and it either goes one of two ways in a PoliSci department.. you're a jock or a nerd, and well I'm a nerd.