Guest Thoth Report post Posted May 14, 2002 The scene: A Greyhound Bus Station outside the Gund Arena. It’s dry and dusty, in the middle of nowhere. Some people exit the station, tickets in hand. They wait for the bus that will take them to Santa Barbara and UTTER HELL. From left to right, the players are: Sydney Sky Jacob Helmsley Ced Ordonez Cutthoat “The hell?” asks Jake. “Why are you here, Cutthroat?” Cutthroat, who is incapable of basic human reasoning, just stands there and drools on his shirt. Sydney Sky sighs, and sits down on the red wooden bench. “So how’d we get this gig again?” “We no-showed,” replies Ced, who sits on the backrest of the same bench. “And now we have to go to Santa Barbara and...” “And what?” asks an expectant Sydney. “Well...” begins Jake. “We don’t really now. They just said to get on a bus, and be back in time for the next show.” “CUTTHROAT!” yells Cutthroat at the top of his lungs. So the four stand... and wait... and wait... and wait... “Dammit! Where’s the bus!” screams Jake. Syd gets off the bench to go quench her thirst at the nearby vending machine. “Let’s see,” she mutters, going down the list of sodas. “Faygo... Faygo... Faygo... Faygo... Faygo... Vanilla Coke? Hmm...” she presses the button for Vanilla Coke. Out pops a red and white can saying *NEW* all over it. She pops the lid as she returns to the hapless group. She takes a sip... and stops in her tracks. “Holy... living... FUCK! That... is smooth,” she exclaims matter-of-factly. “Lemme have some!” says Ced, taking the can and swigging. Suddenly, his pupils dilate to the size of dinner plates. “Woah,” he says. Jake takes the can, and drinks, and suddenly gets a huge smile on his face. “We should give Cutthroat some of this!” He tips the can towards Cutthroat’s mouth, but the stupid little boy does not open, and the sparkling beverage is spilled all over his shirt. “CUTTHROAT!” Just then, the bus bound for Santa Barbara pulls up. The door opens, and the bus driver, Big Danny, tells everyone to get aboard. Sydney Sky goes first, then Jake, then Cutthroat, who is being pushed by Ced. And then Ced. **An hour into the bus trip** Sydney Sky is trying to sleep when she is awakened by a horrifying sensation... someone is sucking on her feet! She jumps up with a start, screaming, and then saying, “Why do guys on buses have to be so fucking creepy! WHY can’t I find anyone normal!” Then the person sucking her toes reveals himself. “CUTTHROAT!” Sydney Sky sighs. **Three hours into the bus trip** Ced turns to Jake. “You bored?” he asks. Ced nods his assent. “Play ya Rock Paper Scissors,” Jake continues. “Why?” asks Ced. “Because,” Jake replies, “They’re gonna make do something really stupid when we get to Santa Barbara, I just know it. And this way, we can determine who gets to be the fall guy.” “Well, I’d argue... but I’m tired. So what the hell. Best four out of seven?” “Sure.” And they begin to play. First draw; Jake draws scissors, Ced paper. Same on the second draw. Then on the third draw: “ROCK!” yells Jake, anticipating that Ced anticipated that Jake anticipated that Ced anticipated that Ced would throw paper again. Ced Ordonez, meanwhile, moves his hands in outward motion. “The hell was that?!” asks Jake, incredulously. “THAT, my friend, was an atomic bomb,” says Ced, smiling. “W-w-what? You can’t throw an atomic bomb!” “Who says?” “Dumbass, it’s Rock Paper Scissors, not Rock Paper Manhattan Project! You can’t just make up rules!” “Why not?” asks Ced, indignant. “It’s not like the rules are set in stone like basketball or something.” “...set in stone...? Jesus Christ, Ced! It’s Rock Paper Scissors! It’s been around since... well, since who knows when! You can’t change the rules!” “Why not? Football changed rules... the 2-point conversion and such...” “Whatever. Just no more atomic bombs. Ready... 1, 2, 3!” Jake throws scissors, and Ced rolls his wrist around. “Now what was THAT?” “Giant Ball and Chain.” “AARRRGGHH!” **Five hours into the bus trip** “CUTTHROAT!” **Six hours into the bus trip** Sydney Sky is looking out the window, watching clouds take different shapes, when she hears a voice. At first, she ignores it, but as she can tell the voice is directed towards her, she turns toward it. “Hey pretty lady,” the gruffy voice whispers. The person who the voice belongs to has a rough, unkempt beard, and a dirty face, with missing teeth to boot. “Wanna buy a watch?” Sydney Sky rolls her eyes. “Gross. Aren’t there any normal guys on this bus?” The person looks angry. “Excuse me? I’m a woman!” Sydney’s mouth opens with horror as she gets a better look at the wo/man... and he/she has a chest. And they don’t look like man-boobs, either. “Ohh... umm, er, I’m sorry,” says Sydney, her cheeks flushed with red. “So... wanna buy a watch?” “No!” **Eight hours into the bus trip** “mmmMMM-CUTTHROAT!” **Ten... oh screw it, I can only do the same joke enough times. Now they’re in Santa Barbara.** Our four adventurers disembark the bus, and look around. Downtown Santa Barbara. Hub of absolutely nothing... except the California Pizza Kitchen. Something should happen right about now... No, about now... How about now? A voice calls from the distance. “Are you from the Smarks Junior League?” The quartet ambles in the direction of the voice to find... ... ... ... ... ... ... (There are more dots) ... ... ... ... ... ... Billy Jack Hane Junior! “Ha ha ha!” he says, “Now you are part of my trap!” “Dude, um... Billy?” asks Jacob Helmsley, tentatively. “You’re not acting like yourself.” “OF COURSE I’M NOT!” screams Billy. “The guy writing this has no idea who I am because I’m really old school, and he just saw my name and thought it would be cool to put me in! For nostalgia’s sake! Whatever, get in the car!” “What car?” asks the quartet. Actually, Cutthroat says “CUTTHROAT!” but let’s just ignore that. Anyway, a black Nissan Z with tinted pulls up at that very moment. The rear doors open, to reveal 4 seats. How 4 seats were packed into the back of a Nissan Z, you ask? The answer is Valium. Anyway, Ced shoves Cutthroat in the car, and the three enter as the doors *automatically close*, and they are whisked away. It’s too dark to see out the windows, so they have no idea where to go. MEANWHILE Ted Polak types furiously at his computer. “Dammit!” he cries. “I won’t get this match done in time! Crap!” His dorm room door is open, and in walks C.J. Putnicki (Names have NOT been changed), informal leader of Ted’s wing of the residence hall. “Dammit, Polak, why DO you do this crazy internet... wrestling... thing, anyway?” Ted stops typing, turns slowly to his superior, and looks up at him, staring him in the eye. “Because if I stop, somebody else will win.” C.J. nods understandingly, and leaves, only to have Paul Roberts, Ted’s dorm neighbor, and resident computer enginerring major, not to mention cynic, come running in. “Hey Ted, there’s some really funny looking people in the lobby looking for you. I figured they were looking to ass-rape you, but there’s a hot chick with them, so maybe not. Unless she has a strap-on.” “Huh,” says Ted. “Huh. People looking for me? That’s new.” He gets out of his chair, grabbing his keys and heading out the door, closing it as he passes. ... “What the shit?” Ted sees a bunch off oddly-looking people standing in the middle of the lobby. One of them screams “CUTTHROAT!” loudly and often. One of them approaches Ted and asks, “Are you Ted Polak?” Ted nods, and the man continues. “We’re from the Smarks Junior League... and we’re supposed to follow you or something.” Ted nods... then he nods evilly. It hits him suddenly, what he is supposed to do. “Okay, this way, guys,” he says, beckoning, as Sydney Sky, Ced Ordonez, Jacob Helmsley, and... and... “CUTTHROAT!” “Goddammit, someone push Cutthroat in the direction he’s supposed to walk.” Back in the dorm room... from hell! “Alright. I’ll make this quick and painless. Because what you’re about do to next... is neither,” says Ted, addressing the fearsome foursome. Or something. He opens a closet door, and pulls a flat piece of plastic with a wire coming out of it. At the end of that wire is a plug. Ted turns the flat plastic over to reveal a colorful pattern of shapes. Closer inspection reveals that there are four arrows... and buttons resembling those of a Playstation controller! “Hey!” exclaims Ced Ordonez. “That’s a RedOctane pad!” “It sure is, Ced,” replies Ted. “And for the rest of you... let this be a lesson why you shouldn’t no-show. Especially to Thoth.” With that, Ted plugs the RedOctane pad into the Playstation 2 and hits the power button. Soon, the title screen for Dance Dance Revolution Konamix fills the TV screen, and Ted’s maniacal laughter can be heard for miles. ... “So... like, how do I do this?” asks Sydney Sky. She stands in the middle of the pad, her arms at her sides, nervous as hell. “Well, first, you’re wearing too many clothes. Take some off,” suggests Ted. Sydney’s eyes dart around, nervous. “I... I’d rather leave them on.” “Well, Sydney, that’s your choice,” says Ted, who starts to pace around the room. “However, I have orders from your head office, that ask me to bend you to my will. So, if you ignore my directives, I can take this,” says Ted as he grabs the Stick of Doom™ from the nearby wall and brandishes, “And beat you senseless with it. The choice is yours.” Sydney sighs, and droops her head, as she removes most of her clothes, save for her bra and panties. Ted nods evilly... as do Jake and Ced. Cutthroat says “CUTTHROAT! CUT-CUT-CUTTHROAT!” “Dammit, Cutthroat! Nod evilly!” “CUTTHROAT!” “That’s it!” With Ced and Jake’s help, Ted throws Cutthroat out the window. “CUTTTTTHHHHRRRooooaatt...” “Ahh, much better. Yes, then, now to the dancing!” Sydney starts browsing through the list of songs, frowning as she makes a complete cycle through the songlist. “Aren’t there any songs that I’ve heard of on this?” “Like what, Sky? Humor me,” Ted says, sitting down in a chair, crossing his arms across his chest. “Umm... any bands from America?” Ted shakes his head no, a sad painful no, and gets up. “Here, try this.” Ted chooses ‘Baby Baby Gimme Your Love,’ a very easy song. And as Sydney dances, the camera fades out. Briefly. Because it’s to be continued. --- Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest 5_moves_of_doom Report post Posted May 14, 2002 Thoth, you rule. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go watch Billy Jack Haynes vs. Hercules for the battle over the full-nelson. If only I could remember which Wrestlemania it was..... Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest Edwin MacPhisto Report post Posted May 14, 2002 I hang in anticipation for part 2, and cannot stop shuddering with laughter. Sweet, beautiful christ. And, in closing: Underneeeeyuth yarr clothes, there's and endleess storrr-ree! Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest midnight_burn Report post Posted May 14, 2002 Delicious. I'll be waiting for part two with baited breath. Note to JL'ers: No show more so Thoth can write more hilarious promos. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest Beingz0wningj00 Report post Posted May 14, 2002 Funny stuff, little man... You took that shit, and made it grand! Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest 5_moves_of_doom Report post Posted May 14, 2002 Funny stuff, little man... You took that shit, and made it grand! If the wrestling doesn't show then you owe Thoth owe him oh.... Jay and Silent Bob Freestyle Ownz JOOZ! Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest Suicide King Report post Posted May 14, 2002 Thoth, you are a god. An Egyptian god with the head of an ibis, to be precise. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest Report post Posted May 14, 2002 That was golden. Can't wait to see the continuation. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest Report post Posted May 14, 2002 Thoth...you are SO great... *pops a brewskie* that you get one of these... *opens and Passes the Corvaissie* and that. ENJOY! And if that money for this doesn't show, then you owe me owe me owe, MY JUNGLE LOVE! O-WEE-O-WEE-O! I think I wanna know ya! Jay and Silent Bob owns all j00...including the C0mmish! Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest TheBostonStrangler Report post Posted May 15, 2002 That kicked SO much ass. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest Ash Ketchum Report post Posted May 15, 2002 Thoth, you are a god. An Egyptian god with the head of an ibis, to be precise. Good call, King Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Guest Insane Clown Dan Report post Posted May 16, 2002 Guess who will be joining you on the next little bus trip, children! Oh my god, it'll be such a joy! We'll sing songs together and drive each other to the edge of our sanities! (...kill parents... kill teachers... kill sister...) What? Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
