Promo

[Guest Deja Vu Kris]

RIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGG!!

 

The sound of several phones ringing at once jars him awake more abruptly than he would have liked. He peeks his eyes open, which proves rather difficult considering their weight and the sunlight beaming directly into them.

 

RIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGG!!

 

“Dude…I’m coming,” mumbles Kris as he dares to open his eyes completely. He starts to look around for a telephone, which, regardless of his strenuous objection, continues to ring. It is then that Kris realizes that he is upside down, which would probably explain why his head is pounding with the force of 20 jackhammers working in a mine field. Kris tastes his own mouth, and the look on his face says everything about why he feels so crappy. Kris, however, is delighted when the phone stops ringing, and he is perfectly content knowing that the person on the other end has given up.

 

Kris pulls himself upright, and sits straight up on the sofa where he had been dangling. He puts his head in his hands, trying, if possible, to stop the trucks rolling around in there. His eyes have somewhat focused now, and he gazes around at the shipwreck that used to be his penthouse.

 

RIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGG!!

 

Kris gives a frustrated sigh, and begins to look for the phone. He rubs his eyes as he tries to determine which direction the ringing is coming from, until he realizes that it is coming from the sofa cushion. He reaches in and pulls out a cordless phone, and he stands up as he looks at the caller id, which shows a Pittsburg area code.

 

Kris presses the talk button and puts the phone to his ear, but before he can even say a word, he takes a tumble and smacks his head on the coffee table!

 

“SHIT,” screams Kris, directly into the phone.

 

“Is that how you always answer the phone, or did I win some kind of 100th caller contest?” replies the voice on the phone, with a very annoyed tone. Kris rolls onto his back while holding his head, and sees some random guy laying at his feet, completely passed out.

 

“Hello?” says the voice on the phone, inquiring if Kris is still there.

 

“Who is this?” asks Kris in a very groggy and hoarse voice.

 

“What do you mean, ‘Who is this?’,” questions the voice, rhetorically. “This is King.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Suicide King you moron,” says King, becoming even more annoyed than he already was.

 

“Dude, what kind of name is that?” says Kris, more poking fun than asking a question. “Dude, we don’t want any brah…and take us off your list.”

 

“Look you dumbass,” yells King, fuming, “it’s Suicide King from the SWF! Don’t play dumb with me!”

 

“Look brah,” says Kris casually before breaking into a round of nasty coughs, “I don’t know no Suicide King or whatever, and I SO don’t know any SWF dude. You must have the wrong number or something.”

 

King sighs heavily into the phone as he can’t believe what he’s about to do, “Dude…it’s Kingsly,” King exclaims into the phone, now wanting to kick his own ass.

 

“DUDE,” Kris remembers, “Kingsly…what’s up brah?”

 

“Where the hell were you guys last night?” asks King. Kris thinks long and hard to himself, but can’t seem to come up with anything.

 

“Dude, he had one kick ass party last night,” Kris tells King. “You SO should have been here brah.”

 

“I didn’t ask you about your party, and I don’t care. I want to know why you didn’t come to the show last night.”

 

“Show?” Kris pauses for a while, before his brain clicks, “OH…right…the wrestling thing.”

 

“Yeah, the wrestling thing. You know, where I stuck my neck out for you guys, and you don’t even show up for shows.”

 

“Dude, let me tell you. We have been partying for like 5 days in a row. Dude, Frost was here like Monday or something. That dude can frickin’ drink brah. But….uhhhh…we were celebrating our win with Frost, and you know how we do…people just kept showing up, so we kept getting more kegs. One thing led to another, and dude…it just turned into this 5 day super party. And, brah…it was so worth it. You should have been here…”

 

“Stop,” interrupts King. “Listen, I’m fining both of you $5,500 dollars for missing the show last night, and the next time you miss a show, you will be suspended. Got it?”

 

“Dude…Kingsly…you know us man…our dad used to hook you up at his casino all the time. It’s not that serious brah.”

 

“No, it IS that serious. Just like your dad, I’m trying to run a business. When the #1 contender’s for the tag titles don’t show up for a show…that affects my business. Don’t bring your father into this because he knew how to run a successful business, which is why you have all the things you have now. So, if you miss another show, you’ll be suspended, no exceptions.”

 

“Ok, ok dude,” says Kris, holding the phone away from his ear. “Not so loud though…my head is pounding.”

 

“Uh huh,” King says, not caring about Kris’s head. “Be in Lincoln, Nebraska for Smarkdown on Monday. And if I were you, I’d get over there early and get some training in because you’ll be in singles matches, which you’ve never done before.”

 

“Dude, that so rocks! Is my match for the world title?”

 

“Dear god no,” King says relieved. “I’ll eat my hat the day that happens. One of you is facing Ejiro Fasaki and the other is facing The Judge…to get you ready for your tag title match.”

 

“Brah, we’re ready now.”

 

“No you’re not. Listen, I don’t have time to have this conversation with you right now. Just be in Lincoln…ON TIME!”

 

“We’ll be there brah…but…uhhh…seriously, do we have to pay that fine? I mean, really…you know us…you’re not going to make us pay, right?”

 

“No, no…you don’t have to pay…”

 

“Whew.”

 

“…we’ll just take it out of your paycheck.”

 

“Dude?? We get paychecks??”

 

“Goodbye.” King hangs up as he mutters, “morons” under his breath.

 

Kris gets back to his feet, just as his brother Kross comes into the room, dragging just as Kris is.

 

“Dude,” Kris calls on his brother, “did you know we get paychecks?”

 

“Huh,” mumbles Kross.

 

“The wrestling thing.”

 

“Oh, right…what about it?”

 

“We get paid for it.”

 

“Yeah…cool,” Kross answers, completely uninterested. “Dude…I don’t know how much I had to drink, but…ummmm…ok, there’s this chick in my bed, and ummmmm…she must weight at least 400 pounds brah.”

 

Kris just starts laughing his ass off while Kross grabs a used cup from a nearby table and begins to fill it with beer from a half-used keg.

 

“Dude, that’s not funny,” pleads Kross. “I seriously don’t know how she got there, but I found this condom wrapper man.”

 

“I gotta see this,” Kris says heading over to Krosses door and taking a peak inside. “WHOA! Dude…that’s not a chick…that’s a freaking whale!”

 

“Yeah, thanks for the update asshole. Who was on the phone?”

 

“Oh, it was Kingsly…we missed a show last night, and he’s fining us.”

 

“Ah…but that was a kick ass party though, wasn’t it?”

 

“Dude…that party SO kicked ass.”

 

“Hell yeah it did,” says Kross as Kris comes over and grabs a cup of beer as well.

 

“Dude, should we stop drinking?” asks Kris. “We have to be in Nebraska on Monday for a show.”

 

“Dude, that’s SO five days away…we can like, drink for…uhhh…4 days.”

 

“In that case brah…cheers.”

 

“Cheers.”

 

The brothers touch plastic cups and begin downing their beers for what is now a 6th consecutive day, because apparently having sex with a whale is worth missing a show.

[Guest 5_moves_of_doom]

This promo rocks brah!

[Guest Beingz0wningj00]

Invite Jay Dawg to a party!

 

 

I would so kick the shit out of some of your friends brah... then you can practise moves on them! (Y)

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

“Dude…I’m coming,”

 

Coupled with the title of the promo and the 20 jackhammers reference shortly thereafter, I was snorting with god-damn delight.