To Knox, TQ...

[DWoods]

Missed that Detroit deadline- WHATEV

(FADE-IN: Joe the Plumber’s once again decided to cut a promo from a stranger's house. Having just tinkered with the garbage disposal, smoked about a pound of hash, snorted an eight ball of coke mixed with Ajax, and taken a fistful of varied prescription pills, Joe’s ready to begin as he sits comfortably in the living room.)

JTP: “Hey TQ, SHUT YOUR FUCKIN’ MOUTH, BITCH! Where the fuck did you come from, anyway? You show up on Ol’ Joe’s TV screen, all touchin’ your titties, kneadin’ `em like doughboys or somethin’, and you expect me to get hard and be ready to fuck your tenderoni pussy at the drop of a hat? WELL, LOOK AT YOU, MISS NEEDY! ALWAYS CRAVIN’ THE JOE DICK! You fuckin’ selfish cunt, you better learn some manners and FAST! This ain’t the Nat` Title division you’re stickin’ your pigeon head into – THIS IS THE WORLD TITLE DIVISION! BIG-DICK CONTENDERS CONTENDERIN’ FOR A BELT WITH SOME WORTH TO IT! UGHNNN! Nunna’ that Rook Black faggotry gayin’ up my div’! We don’t play chess – we throw BRICKS! Cinderblocks on PPV! You wanna talk shit, you better be able to back it up – but frigggggg, bitch, even Steve Knox could beat ya! I’d have expected him to be so vexed by your spandex-clad vag that he’d just bust nuts the second you locked up, and in that moment of post-ejaculatory euphoria, you give him the ol’ reach-around schoolboy and win the damn thing!

“But ya DIDN’T! Even the virginal Steve Knox, with his sweaty palms and even sweatier ass crack – ’natural lube for natural ass fucking’ – was able to look at’cha impartially and know, outright fuckin’ KNOW, that you’re just a tranny-in-limbo tryin’ to save up every last penny to finish the j`iiiiiiiiiiiiiib! Well, guess what? All the botex, all the scalpel swipes, all the fuckin’ M.D. manpower in the whole wide world, couldn’t turn ya into the bell of the ball! Sure, Ol’ Joe would stick his dick in ya, but that ain’t sayin’ much, `cause Ol’ Joe once stuck his dick in a fuckin’ slice of expired ham… as it was bein’ chewed on by a rottweiler! My point: I’ll fuck anything! So stay the fuck away, you… whatever your name is… Make me a fuckin’ sandwich or a pie or a fuckin' pubey salad – collect them shits from the drain in your shower and toss some balsamic vinaigrette on there! I DON’T CARRREEEE! Ol’ Joe’s ragin’ right now!

“Let’s break down the situation: Ol’ Joe hasn’t been beaten; you have… in the ring and in the bedroom… by just about every race imaginable and even a few crossbreeds… Second, I’m a beast, and you’re Ann Frank with little boy arms! I bet your “clit” is thicker than those wet noodles! Tell me, did the doctor sculpt that doohickey or was it always that small? OL’ JOE WANTS TO KNOW YOUR EROTIC STORIES, BITCH! TELL HIM! I WANNA READ YOUR DIARY, ANN! I WANNA SMELL THE PUSSY JUICE SOAKIN’ THROUGH THE PAGES! ARRRRGGHHHHHHH! TELL ME A STORY, STORYTELLER! OL’ JOE DOESN’T TELL STORIES; HIS LEGACY IS PASSED ON VIA WORD OF MOUTH BY THE VICTIMS HE’S LEFT BLOODIED AND BATTERED ALONG THE WAY! STRAIGHT FUCKED!

“Cameron Cruise once found Ol’ Joe’s crack supply and promptly returned that shit to him, so he’s not quite on Joe’s ‘shit list.’ Also, Cameron is the father of Kooter Michaels-Cruise, who Ol’ Joe was in a gang with at one point, way back in the fuckin’ late 80s… KMC chokeslams cops and rapes security guards, and every do-dirt scumbag knows that! Now, Ol’ Joe hates him for a number of reasons – but his animalistic, surreal, time-travelin’ adventures ain’t one of ‘em! Ol’ Joe told KMC that he’d look after his Pa, and so that’s what he’s gonna do!

“KNOX, UGLIER LINDSAY TROY… LISTEN UP! I’m the champ, and you two garbage-slingin’ ham-and-eggers ain’t even close to bein’ on my level! You want to hurt Cameron’s feelings? HUH? That boy’s got a whole mess`a feelings! Practically a ball`a yarn of feelings! Ol’ Joe’s feelings were made into a sweater and subsequently lit on fire! But Cameron hurts when you start rantin’ and ravin’ about his shortcomings! Knox, you’re dead – I’m gonna get you in the ring one of these days, and I’m gonna fuckin’ stab you in the throat with my fist! You’re gonna feel my grimy, germ-infested ham hock crawlin’ up your esophagus, surfin’ out onto your tongue, and then BOOM! – punchin’ your teeth out from the INSIDE. Then I’m gonna reach up, jam two fingers in your eyes so them shits are busted for good, and then I’m gonna grab a hold of your little boy haircut and lead ya around the ring, bashin’ your head off of each of the turnbuckles! UGHNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!

“Miss lady bitch- same thing, only I’m enterin’ through that filthy, used-up wilted flower you call a pussy slit! SAME EXACT SEQUENCE, BUT OL’ JOE’S GONNA REALLY HAVE TO GET IN THERE, LIKE HE’S ATTEMPTIN’ TO ROB A VENDING MACHINE OR SOMETHIN’, DOWN ON ALL FOURS, SHOULDER UNHINGED, TONGUE OUT AND TWISTED TO THE SIDE! UGHNNNNNNNN!

“Cameron, Uncle Joe’s gonna get you laid someday soon! After DQ Treat is incapacitated and sprawled out like a Super Bowl date rape advertisement, Ol’ Joe will coach ya – stick ‘er in slowwwww, he’ll say, that’s it, take your ti- no, Cameron, slow- slooow down there, big guy… think of dead puppies! Think of- *disappointment* …Awww shit... I mean, that’s okay! Happens to everyone… Here’s a lamp, just shove it up there so she knows to pick up a pregnancy test on her way home from the hospital.

“Yeah, OL’ JOE SAID THAT!

“Ol’ Joe will never be beaten! It’s his destiny to dominate and fornicate `till the day the doc says ‘Mr. Plummer, you’ve got full-blown AIDS.’ At which point I’ll call up Steve Knox and let him know that his fantasies can finally be fulfilled… and then after the dirty deed’s been done, I’ll turn to him, slap him across the face, and scream, ‘REALITY CHECK, STEVE! YOU’VE BEEN INFECTED! SHOULD’A BEEN A LITTLE MORE INSISTENT ABOUT THE WHOLE RAW ENTRY THING! BUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!’

“Ol’ Joe’s practically foamin’ at the mouth – matter`a fact I think I’m gonna go and OD now, so I better grab a beer and wait for that to happen! Bye!”

(JTP lifts a rocking chair over his head and chucks it through the front window of the house, allowing him to make his mad exit by somersaulting through the open space, onto a pile of broken glass littering the lawn.)

JTP: “YOU’D BE SURPRISED HOW MUCH THIS HURTS! BUHAHAHAHA!”

(FTB)

 

[Frozen Atlantic]

We haven't heard from Teresa Quaranta since laying into Cameron Cruise a little while ago, but the current world champion gets the identical treatment: audio only. Whether this is because she's going through deep emotional turmoil or because Joe's sorry ass probably won't even be champion by the time she gets a shot at it is anybody's guess...

"I think everybody here is contractually obligated to act like that 2 year title run is right around the corner, but how often does someone say 'Oh, world title, not interested, got other stuff to do, I'll get around to it when my schedule clears up.' This is partially because I have better things to do, but it's mostly because Joe the Plumber is like an even less entertaining Tom Green, and even the world title isn't enough to make me fake being interested in the ten minutes it would take to preforate his face for money... "

"Lucky for you, you completely failed at making me interested in you. But the more you talk, the more the guys who book the cards will wonder what I'd do to a slackjawed, pig-****ing, Pabst sipping evolutionary oopsie like you in a match. And I don't play chess or throw bricks or fling my doodie at the roster. I use a whistle to bring you out of the woods like so. I manipulate you into standing in the middle of a grassy field like so. And while you're twitching your nose on camera, snorting coke, thinking up funny synonyms for vagina and trying to get a feel for which direction the leakage from Cammy's rear end is coming from - I pull the trigger just in time for you to hear the bullet that kills you. But please, keep hyping me. The quicker you get carried away, the quicker you'll get carried away..."

 

[DWoods]

Joe the Plumber’s response comes by way of mental ejaculate to the face.

That’s right: Two can play at this game, ya condescending faggot fuck.

JTP: “BUHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! You… talkin’ `bout bustin’ gats… at me? You, a fucking whiny little bitch who just plain sucks ass, no real skill, nothin’ interesting or entertaining to contribute… talking down… t’me?

“Fuckin’ please… Ol’ Joe is ten times better than you at slingin’ ham hocks in the squared circle and putting cocksuckers DOWN, ten times more popular than you, and ten times more known `round these parts than you! Shit, people see a JTP promo come on the picture box and they practically flood their pants with anticipatory pre-cum! That’s how it’s been since the dawn of time; well, since I showed up here and made shit interesting.

“You look at me and you think born dictator. I look at you and I think born dick-taker. Maybe it was God’s cruel idea of a joke to put a human cock vacuum into the body of a MAN, I dunno… But hey, `least ya did us all a favor and got some synthetic tits for the boys to slap around and put the boots to! Good on ya, bitch! But enough is enough is enough, no one even pays attention to you, that’s why when you were draggin’ around that pathetic championship of yours, everyone was speakin’ Ol’ Joe’s name! Ha! That’s fuckin’ facts right there, cunt! Ask anyone – get on your pink Barbie doll cell phone, put the cock-shaped Bluetooth in your ear, and CALL ANYONE- ANYONE AT ALL- and y’know what they’ll say?

“How’s that JTP doin’? Still puttin’ the stamp on bitchmade faggots with pending sex change operations and/or lame ‘awesome’ shticks? Really? Good! That motherfucker CRACKS ME RIGHT UP! ‘BOUUUUSSEEEE!’ ‘UGHNNNNNNN!’ God, I LOVE THAT!

“I get in Eddie Mayfield’s smug, little face, tell him to fuck off, call him a kike, and he knows he can’t fire me because I bring in more money than anyone in this stupid fed. More than you, Knox, Rook, Red, blah blah blah whoevvverrrr, COMBINED. Nova was the only one who really intrigued Ol’ Joe; for one, because he raped my sister on Christmas Eve back in ’93, and two, because he was a money-maker, big-dick player… All trash talk aside, Nova was a WORTHY opponent. He’s been places, accomplished shit, made a name for himself…

“You…? Heh… Ha… BUHAHAHAHAHA! You won’t catch me ever even attempt to say your full name because I. just. don’t. care. that. much.

“You’re worse than Varga and Legion put together because you actually think you’re talented; you actually think you stand a chance against the Greasy Goblin. The truth is you don’t. And you never will. Because I’d turn you into my own personal hand puppet, and give myself puppet BJs from sun up to sun down – and never clean you, not never!

“You say I won’t be champ by the time you get a title shot? DAMN FUCKIN’ RIGHT! I’ll be dead and buried by the time eternity comes to an end! You’re Nat` title, B-squad, A-cup TRASH – not even mediocre, just TRASH – shit that builds up over a period of time without you noticing it, `till one day you’ve got no choice but to put it out to the curb! UGHNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!

“No one wants to watch your romance-novel escapades, just as they don’t want to watch you wrestle… or rather, flop around the ring like a trout on dry land… BOOM!

“Lastly, Ol’ Joe doesn’t care if you’re interested in him or not. Actually, he’s glad you ain't, because if you were he might just have to act on the grimy impulses that fire erratically in his roach-infested brain, and that would be WRONG. Not because he’s particularly adverse to slummin’ with filthy whores -- `cause OBVIOUSLY he ain’t! – but because my fuckin’ your ass would be like when Tyson fucked that tease bitch and got sent to prison! That’d give you way too much publicity, and you don’t deserve that. You deserve to wallow in your own obscurity until the day comes when some fat, redneck trucker, not unlike yours truly, pounds a few too many beers into him and then pounds a few too many sperm in you, knockin’ up your makeshift womb – the immaculate conception! A tranny gets prego! Oh daaamn, that’s wrong, but sooo, soooooo… accurate.

“Now hurry up and suck my dick or get the fuck outta my face, bitch. I’m bored with you, kitchen-dweller. UGHNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!”