TH
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The always-high last GXW Champion battles the mysterious newcomer from the raver scene.
ST. LOUIS: Boogie Smallz vs. WildChild
- Thread starter TH
- Start date
(FADEIN to Boogie Smallz in front of the TEAM Wrestling logo backdrop.)
BOOGIE SMALLZ: So I’m chillin’ at tha crib one day and I get a call from this Holzerman cat invitin’ me to this big tournament he got for TEAM Wrestling. Tha prize? (Grins.) Tha Chad Merritt Trophy. (Smiles.) Now I can’t say that it would be an honor to have tha prestigious Merritt Trophy…considerin’ I don’t like tha futhamucka, but tha simple fact that so many great athletes in tha biz are in this tournament…walkin’ out tha winner does seem appealin’.
Wildchild…can’t say that I know you, but I saw tha audition tape you sent in to TEAM and I can’t argue that ya got some skillz. But son, your limited talent can only get you so far. Once you are in tha ring with a World champion caliber athlete…you’re out of your league. I’m not tryin’ to brag…I’m just statin’ facts. I ain’t no lil’ punk b**ch…I will kcuf you up!
So before you come out here and try to make peace…save it for your opponent in tha consolation round. ‘Cuz that’ll be about tha only futhamucka that’s gonna listen. Anotha’ triscuit that got his ass whooped and tossed out of tha Invitational Tournament in tha first round!
I’m gonna mess you up, dawg. Not because you pissed me off, but because I got sumthin’ to prove to tha world. Don’t worry, after I beat you down…you’ll have plenty of time to roll on that ecstasy and rave all night long. Once tha match is over…you’ll feel like you just dropped some acid. Dizzy, seein’ colors, hallucinatin’, and you ain’t gotta pay a dime. I’m hookin’ you up, man. What more could ya axsk for? (Grins.)
Fade me out.
(FADE TO BLACK)
BOOGIE SMALLZ: So I’m chillin’ at tha crib one day and I get a call from this Holzerman cat invitin’ me to this big tournament he got for TEAM Wrestling. Tha prize? (Grins.) Tha Chad Merritt Trophy. (Smiles.) Now I can’t say that it would be an honor to have tha prestigious Merritt Trophy…considerin’ I don’t like tha futhamucka, but tha simple fact that so many great athletes in tha biz are in this tournament…walkin’ out tha winner does seem appealin’.
Wildchild…can’t say that I know you, but I saw tha audition tape you sent in to TEAM and I can’t argue that ya got some skillz. But son, your limited talent can only get you so far. Once you are in tha ring with a World champion caliber athlete…you’re out of your league. I’m not tryin’ to brag…I’m just statin’ facts. I ain’t no lil’ punk b**ch…I will kcuf you up!
So before you come out here and try to make peace…save it for your opponent in tha consolation round. ‘Cuz that’ll be about tha only futhamucka that’s gonna listen. Anotha’ triscuit that got his ass whooped and tossed out of tha Invitational Tournament in tha first round!
I’m gonna mess you up, dawg. Not because you pissed me off, but because I got sumthin’ to prove to tha world. Don’t worry, after I beat you down…you’ll have plenty of time to roll on that ecstasy and rave all night long. Once tha match is over…you’ll feel like you just dropped some acid. Dizzy, seein’ colors, hallucinatin’, and you ain’t gotta pay a dime. I’m hookin’ you up, man. What more could ya axsk for? (Grins.)
Fade me out.
(FADE TO BLACK)
D
desphrs
Guest
(Fade in: Wildchild, hoodie'd up against the fall wind, sitting on the back of a park bench, feet on the seat.)
You know, it mighta been nice.
I know a player when I see one. I smell a banger a mile away. As long as we see eye to eye, and we ain't got no beef, then we ain't got no beef.
You watched my tape, Boogie? I watched your tapes, too. You got rhythm in your *blood*. You wrestle with it, you talk trash with it, I bet you live your life with it. Seems to me you are player, and banger, and gangsta, and nothin'-but-a-party all rolled up into one.
That used to be me. Hell, maybe there's part that still is.
(Gets off bench, approaches camera.)
So yeah, it mighta been nice. You, me, telling the rest of TEAM to get the F outta Dodge. Ain't no funny drugs talking here, but I thought you had -- what is it? -- "kindred spirit" written all over you.
Guess that ain't gonna happen now.
See, powers-that-be set it up so you and me, Boogie, you and me go one-on-one to kick off this in-VY-tational. So we ain't gonna be brothers-in-arms unless we lock up, ain't gonna be no meeting of the minds unless I headbutt your stank ass, and the only team we part of? Four big letters hanging from the ceiling.
(Grabs front of camera, brings to face for close-up.)
You've been around this game way too long, Boog. You have nothing to prove. Me? I'm three squares away from a riot, that's how hungry I am. I got nothing to lose.
I say it once for you, and once for the rest of your crew, and once for the rest of the cats in line behind you: Imma turn you into the needle on my next Number One. Imma drop you, wear you out, and toss your ass away.
You hear me, hip-hopper?
(Shoves camera and cameraman to ground, image breaks up, goes to static.)
You know, it mighta been nice.
I know a player when I see one. I smell a banger a mile away. As long as we see eye to eye, and we ain't got no beef, then we ain't got no beef.
You watched my tape, Boogie? I watched your tapes, too. You got rhythm in your *blood*. You wrestle with it, you talk trash with it, I bet you live your life with it. Seems to me you are player, and banger, and gangsta, and nothin'-but-a-party all rolled up into one.
That used to be me. Hell, maybe there's part that still is.
(Gets off bench, approaches camera.)
So yeah, it mighta been nice. You, me, telling the rest of TEAM to get the F outta Dodge. Ain't no funny drugs talking here, but I thought you had -- what is it? -- "kindred spirit" written all over you.
Guess that ain't gonna happen now.
See, powers-that-be set it up so you and me, Boogie, you and me go one-on-one to kick off this in-VY-tational. So we ain't gonna be brothers-in-arms unless we lock up, ain't gonna be no meeting of the minds unless I headbutt your stank ass, and the only team we part of? Four big letters hanging from the ceiling.
(Grabs front of camera, brings to face for close-up.)
You've been around this game way too long, Boog. You have nothing to prove. Me? I'm three squares away from a riot, that's how hungry I am. I got nothing to lose.
I say it once for you, and once for the rest of your crew, and once for the rest of the cats in line behind you: Imma turn you into the needle on my next Number One. Imma drop you, wear you out, and toss your ass away.
You hear me, hip-hopper?
(Shoves camera and cameraman to ground, image breaks up, goes to static.)
(FADEIN to Boogie Smallz watching the Wildchild promo with a confused look on his face. He leans back in his chair, lights his Swisher, and shakes his head while he listens to Wildchild’s comments. The promo ends and Boogie appears to be at a loss for words.)
BOOGIE SMALLZ: Ummm…yeah…I guess…you got me? (Puffs his blunt and shrugs his shoulders.) That is if I could understand what tha kcuf you was tryin’ to say!
I don’t know what kind of sick ish you’re in to “smellin’ bangers” and all, but uh, ya might wanna keep that to yo’self.
(Puffs his blunt and means mugs the camera.)
As far as your claim to me bein’ around long enough and havin’ nothin’ to prove…I gotta argue wit’ that. ‘Cuz see, while I might have been around for a minute…I ain’t exactly spent that whole time main eventin’.
For the past year I’ve been banned from competition in EPW. I’ve been wrestlin’ in CSWA and having a match erry three months ain’t so bad…but it sorta holds up your progress. Tha organization I hold tha World title of…closed up shop. I mean, I could keep goin’ with why I got sumthin’ to prove.
But despite your denial of that…and tha “hunger” you claim to possess…ain’t nobody herre hungrier than me! I’m hungrier than a mafuggin’ hostage, yo! I ain’t ate a damn thang in weeks and tha opportunities presented to me in this Invitational Tournament…they got me chompin’ at tha bit!
So while you may not have nuthin’ to lose…I beg to differ. First off…you will lose blood…thats a given. You could lose your pride, but I doubt you got any. You could lose your self-respect…but by tha looks of ya, ya prolly don’t care. You could lose your life…but by signin’ an open contract…it already proves you’re suicidal.
(Boogie puffs his blunt and rewinds the tape of Wildchild. He presses play.)
WILDCHILD: Imma drop you, wear you out, and toss your ass away.
(Boogie presses stop.)
BOOGIE: That’s funny…I did tha same thang to your mom last night.
(Grins and puffs his blunt.)
Did I hurt your feelings, Wildchild? Did you wanna be friends with me or sumthin’? By tha sound of your promo I could have sworn you were tryin’ to kiss my ass. How could tha thought have crossed your mind that I would team and side with you?
What part of me callin’ you a stupid-ass mafuggin’ triscuit did you get tha inklin’ that we could be boys?
Man…that crystal meth you did last week at that warehouse party has done too much damage to your brain. (Puffs his blunt.)
Now I want you to concentrate. Try to store this sumwherre in your brain that still has some usefulness…preferably sumwherre in tha cerebellum…because we at least think that works on you. You do seem to have some motor skills…so you got that goin’ for ya. But anyway, concentrate and remember this…
I ain’t nobody’s b**ch!
Got that? (Looks wild-eyed at the camera.) Good.
BELIEVE ‘DAT!
(FADE TO BLACK)
BOOGIE SMALLZ: Ummm…yeah…I guess…you got me? (Puffs his blunt and shrugs his shoulders.) That is if I could understand what tha kcuf you was tryin’ to say!
I don’t know what kind of sick ish you’re in to “smellin’ bangers” and all, but uh, ya might wanna keep that to yo’self.
(Puffs his blunt and means mugs the camera.)
As far as your claim to me bein’ around long enough and havin’ nothin’ to prove…I gotta argue wit’ that. ‘Cuz see, while I might have been around for a minute…I ain’t exactly spent that whole time main eventin’.
For the past year I’ve been banned from competition in EPW. I’ve been wrestlin’ in CSWA and having a match erry three months ain’t so bad…but it sorta holds up your progress. Tha organization I hold tha World title of…closed up shop. I mean, I could keep goin’ with why I got sumthin’ to prove.
But despite your denial of that…and tha “hunger” you claim to possess…ain’t nobody herre hungrier than me! I’m hungrier than a mafuggin’ hostage, yo! I ain’t ate a damn thang in weeks and tha opportunities presented to me in this Invitational Tournament…they got me chompin’ at tha bit!
So while you may not have nuthin’ to lose…I beg to differ. First off…you will lose blood…thats a given. You could lose your pride, but I doubt you got any. You could lose your self-respect…but by tha looks of ya, ya prolly don’t care. You could lose your life…but by signin’ an open contract…it already proves you’re suicidal.
(Boogie puffs his blunt and rewinds the tape of Wildchild. He presses play.)
WILDCHILD: Imma drop you, wear you out, and toss your ass away.
(Boogie presses stop.)
BOOGIE: That’s funny…I did tha same thang to your mom last night.
(Grins and puffs his blunt.)
Did I hurt your feelings, Wildchild? Did you wanna be friends with me or sumthin’? By tha sound of your promo I could have sworn you were tryin’ to kiss my ass. How could tha thought have crossed your mind that I would team and side with you?
What part of me callin’ you a stupid-ass mafuggin’ triscuit did you get tha inklin’ that we could be boys?
Man…that crystal meth you did last week at that warehouse party has done too much damage to your brain. (Puffs his blunt.)
Now I want you to concentrate. Try to store this sumwherre in your brain that still has some usefulness…preferably sumwherre in tha cerebellum…because we at least think that works on you. You do seem to have some motor skills…so you got that goin’ for ya. But anyway, concentrate and remember this…
I ain’t nobody’s b**ch!
Got that? (Looks wild-eyed at the camera.) Good.
BELIEVE ‘DAT!
(FADE TO BLACK)