Post by Dr. Kazuya Kogemaru on Apr 10, 2010 9:17:48 GMT -6
Backstage in Edmonton....
The Hell's wrong with you?
The P.A. is more nervous than a cocaine smuggler trapped in a drug dog kennel.
Rev and Gladiator are notorious for being not only flippant with human lives, but cheap on equipment. It's been only a week, I'm the third P.A. already because the last two had...
*uses air quotes*
Accidents
You mean, niggas keep dying in freakish ways like all of Spinal Tap's drummers?
This panel doesn't even have an MP3 player for theme music, it uses a CD player. And everytime I put in a cd, it spits our sparks. Between the Rottwilers hopped up on stimulants, the violent ex-con security guards on work release Rev uses for shows, the abestos fumes, this equipment...
I'm scared. Help
*notices Cannabis picking his nose, not paying attention*
Did you hear a word I said?
Yeah, sure, I like mangos, too. What's your point?
Just, play my theme track and don't burn it up.
Fine. Whatever. Where's your cd?
I couldn't find a cd to burn, so I had to use a tape....
The PA starts to panic and pulls out the cell phone.
Hi, honey, it's Eric....
They're making me use the tape deck on this antique death machine
*sobbing on the other end*
I know, baby, I know. No matter what happens, if I don't make it out alive.....
*tearfully looks at the camera*
I'll always love you
Oh, sweet Jesus, I'm gonna vomit Just play my damn track
Garbage rains down from every row in the arena and these Nuck mouth breathers boo like England just announced they're going to annex Canada again and outlaw hockey, because one man...
One man
Walks down the entry ramp. The one and only....
Kid Cannabis EWC Hardcore Champion, and the man who invented silly putty, having to come down the ramp in this frozen cow town shithole in the middle of bumfuck nowhere and listen to a bunch of honkeys who reek of Molsons and falirue crap on him.
Before he enters the ring, though, the PA come running out, on fire, screaming.....
HELP ME JESUS HELP ME ALLAH HELP ME TOM CRUISE USE YOUR WITCHCRAFT TO SAVE ME I'M ON FIRE
Yep. This is how things work here in SWA
Cannabis growls at the ring attendant, who hands Can a mic while wearing over mitts, and, of course, before he can even speak...
You know....
Whilst I was walking down the ramp, looking around, I noticed something. I thought for a minute, did it snow or something? Did a plane load of White Out fall in the arena? Did somebody paint this place alabaster?
Turned out, it's just you people because officially, Edmonton...
This is the most honkyfied one horse toilet bowl of a town I've even been in There are more crackers stuffed in here than a fucking Keebler factory. For some of you ofays, this is probably the first time you've seen a brother outside of Wikipedia Shit, I was in a Tim Horton's today, and some little Canuck kid pointed and said...
Mommy, do they eat fried chicken like the encyclopedia says?
And don't even get me started on hockey. 10 toothless white boys with sticks fighting over who gets to hit a black puck?
Says a lot about you icebacks and your bacon eating, Nickleback loving, moose fixated culture It really does
The crowd is absolutley livid, but Cannabis doesn't give a shit. He just soldiers on with his promo.
We got this ugly trend going on today.
You turn on your tv's and what do you see?
You see niggas like Bobby Brown and Sebastian Bach humiliating themselves on Vh1 for $50 and a ham sandwich. You see Eddie Griffith's car get repoed on tv because I'm figuring the straight to DVD movie career just ain't paying the bills. You see muthafuckin' washups left and right who couldn't get jobs these days narrating for fucking venerial disease educational flicks wasting perfectly good airtime, and the shit is just sad.
Dudes, they just don't know when to let go. They don't.
Like Rubix Cubes and Pet Rocks, they had their time, but unlike those things, they just won't let us put them in the proverbial yard sale bargain bin, they gotta flare up again like herpes to annoy us.
Perfect example, Teen Throb.
Throb gets some cheers, epsecially from a bunch of metrosexual male types who are WAY too enthusiastic in their support.
Here's a fun fact: I just found out on the news today the United States government's got a new way to extract information from terrorist suspects. You know what they use?
It ain't electrodes, it ain't waterboard, or pulling fingernails out of people. You know what they use?
Watch Out music. Yeah, that's right. Throb's old band.
45 seconds into track one on their debut cd, dudes who run around the desert eating dirt soup and killing people start crying and spilling the beans. By track 3, not only do muthafuckas narc out where the weapons of mass destruction are hidden, dudes start telling everything from where their mom stashes the cookies to about that uncle who touched them in funny places.
I played a track outside a few hours ago, dogs were committing suicide because they couldn't take it. One music critic said this about Watch Out....
And I qoute....
Listening to a Watch Out CD is the equivilent of being beaten upside the head with a bag loaded with heated nickles while your mom tells you she never loved you and your wife or girlfriend fills your gas tank with a bottle of Clorox
Hey, what can I say, I take music seriously, too. I heard Phil Collins was gonna make another record, I had to keep myself from throwing a plugged in toaster into my bathtub.
A jewel of a gag gets pissed on by the Canadian crowd, but what do they know? It's Canada. People there are forced to wear corderoy and eat bacon cones while their government blast Celine Dion on loudspeakers on the streets.
It's bad enough music blows harder than hurricane force winds these days, from dudes in mascara whining about how bad life sucks to hip hop turning into a barely literate advertisement for illiteracy to fucking T-pain and his creepy voicebox bullshit on every damn song you hear...
Now this pasty Lance Bass looking honkey's talking about making a comeback tour
Great, just what traveling salesmen across the world need. Their happy hour at the airport Ramada cocktail lounge getting their vibe fucked up by some near thirty year old ex-hipster that's gotta double shift at Old Navy the next morning who couldn't even get a gig on Tool Academy
Worst off, one racist ass muthafucka to boot, too
His face almost contorts like a Romainian gymnast in hatred when he says this.
I saw his little shoot....
I see. I see know, the NIGGA'S gotta be the errand boy, huh? I'm the one playing Chicken George to Rev and Gladiator, right? A black dude's working for two white boy and I'm the house boy, huh?
Yessum, Massah Rev. Isa bee's a good boy, huh? Isa besa loyal and I's works goods and gets to sleep in da big house and gets extra chitlins....
Then that shit at the taco joint...
Yo, Lance, if that shoot was any more racist, you’d have a Mexican slanging oranges on the side of the freeway or stealing rims or worse...
Covering Enrique Iglasias tunes.
And they get to be backup dancers? Oh, wow. How empowering. Why don’t you just make them wear sombreros and sing “La Cucaracha”?
Oh, Lord, this nigga makes my heartburn flare up....
Our emmaculate and seething Hardcore king stops to breath, refocusing his evil chi, then...
With a horrific grin, he looks at the ring attendant trying to put out the smoldering P.A. and barks an order.
Hey, ring monkey! Go get me a guitar and a mic stand. I'm gonna put my ire on wax.
The ring attendant puts down the fire extingisher and gets the gear. Cannabis sets everything up and tunes the guitar.
Ladies and gentlmen, you get a treat tonight. Not only do you get to see me tomorrow beat this brown skin hating, bubblegum pop candy ass like he stole something from me, tonight, Kid Cannabis saves the music industry.
No Auto Tune, no dance routines. No lead singers ditching you to sell millions of records while the rest of the band has to get jobs at Radio Shack. Get your streaming feeds ready, get this on YouTube because tomorrow, I'ma sell a million ringtones with this tune. Tonight, SWA proudly presents the premiere of the soon to be Billboard smash hit....
"Put Your Ass Through the Table!"
1,2,3,4.....
*starts strumming the guitar*
Now people are sharpening hockey sticks in the stands and ready to riot, but the show must go on.
Security prevents people from chucking beer bottles and Cannabis chucks his guitar and takes a bow.
FUCK YOU VERY MUCH, EDMONTON.....GOOD NIGHT!
He drops his mic, flips off the crowd, and walks out of the arena.
Ladies and gentlemen...
Cannabis has left the building!
(Smoke Out!)
The Hell's wrong with you?
The P.A. is more nervous than a cocaine smuggler trapped in a drug dog kennel.
Rev and Gladiator are notorious for being not only flippant with human lives, but cheap on equipment. It's been only a week, I'm the third P.A. already because the last two had...
*uses air quotes*
Accidents
You mean, niggas keep dying in freakish ways like all of Spinal Tap's drummers?
This panel doesn't even have an MP3 player for theme music, it uses a CD player. And everytime I put in a cd, it spits our sparks. Between the Rottwilers hopped up on stimulants, the violent ex-con security guards on work release Rev uses for shows, the abestos fumes, this equipment...
I'm scared. Help
*notices Cannabis picking his nose, not paying attention*
Did you hear a word I said?
Yeah, sure, I like mangos, too. What's your point?
Just, play my theme track and don't burn it up.
Fine. Whatever. Where's your cd?
I couldn't find a cd to burn, so I had to use a tape....
The PA starts to panic and pulls out the cell phone.
Hi, honey, it's Eric....
They're making me use the tape deck on this antique death machine
*sobbing on the other end*
I know, baby, I know. No matter what happens, if I don't make it out alive.....
*tearfully looks at the camera*
I'll always love you
Oh, sweet Jesus, I'm gonna vomit Just play my damn track
Garbage rains down from every row in the arena and these Nuck mouth breathers boo like England just announced they're going to annex Canada again and outlaw hockey, because one man...
One man
Walks down the entry ramp. The one and only....
Kid Cannabis EWC Hardcore Champion, and the man who invented silly putty, having to come down the ramp in this frozen cow town shithole in the middle of bumfuck nowhere and listen to a bunch of honkeys who reek of Molsons and falirue crap on him.
Before he enters the ring, though, the PA come running out, on fire, screaming.....
HELP ME JESUS HELP ME ALLAH HELP ME TOM CRUISE USE YOUR WITCHCRAFT TO SAVE ME I'M ON FIRE
Yep. This is how things work here in SWA
Cannabis growls at the ring attendant, who hands Can a mic while wearing over mitts, and, of course, before he can even speak...
You know....
Whilst I was walking down the ramp, looking around, I noticed something. I thought for a minute, did it snow or something? Did a plane load of White Out fall in the arena? Did somebody paint this place alabaster?
Turned out, it's just you people because officially, Edmonton...
This is the most honkyfied one horse toilet bowl of a town I've even been in There are more crackers stuffed in here than a fucking Keebler factory. For some of you ofays, this is probably the first time you've seen a brother outside of Wikipedia Shit, I was in a Tim Horton's today, and some little Canuck kid pointed and said...
Mommy, do they eat fried chicken like the encyclopedia says?
And don't even get me started on hockey. 10 toothless white boys with sticks fighting over who gets to hit a black puck?
Says a lot about you icebacks and your bacon eating, Nickleback loving, moose fixated culture It really does
The crowd is absolutley livid, but Cannabis doesn't give a shit. He just soldiers on with his promo.
We got this ugly trend going on today.
You turn on your tv's and what do you see?
You see niggas like Bobby Brown and Sebastian Bach humiliating themselves on Vh1 for $50 and a ham sandwich. You see Eddie Griffith's car get repoed on tv because I'm figuring the straight to DVD movie career just ain't paying the bills. You see muthafuckin' washups left and right who couldn't get jobs these days narrating for fucking venerial disease educational flicks wasting perfectly good airtime, and the shit is just sad.
Dudes, they just don't know when to let go. They don't.
Like Rubix Cubes and Pet Rocks, they had their time, but unlike those things, they just won't let us put them in the proverbial yard sale bargain bin, they gotta flare up again like herpes to annoy us.
Perfect example, Teen Throb.
Throb gets some cheers, epsecially from a bunch of metrosexual male types who are WAY too enthusiastic in their support.
Here's a fun fact: I just found out on the news today the United States government's got a new way to extract information from terrorist suspects. You know what they use?
It ain't electrodes, it ain't waterboard, or pulling fingernails out of people. You know what they use?
Watch Out music. Yeah, that's right. Throb's old band.
45 seconds into track one on their debut cd, dudes who run around the desert eating dirt soup and killing people start crying and spilling the beans. By track 3, not only do muthafuckas narc out where the weapons of mass destruction are hidden, dudes start telling everything from where their mom stashes the cookies to about that uncle who touched them in funny places.
I played a track outside a few hours ago, dogs were committing suicide because they couldn't take it. One music critic said this about Watch Out....
And I qoute....
Listening to a Watch Out CD is the equivilent of being beaten upside the head with a bag loaded with heated nickles while your mom tells you she never loved you and your wife or girlfriend fills your gas tank with a bottle of Clorox
Hey, what can I say, I take music seriously, too. I heard Phil Collins was gonna make another record, I had to keep myself from throwing a plugged in toaster into my bathtub.
A jewel of a gag gets pissed on by the Canadian crowd, but what do they know? It's Canada. People there are forced to wear corderoy and eat bacon cones while their government blast Celine Dion on loudspeakers on the streets.
It's bad enough music blows harder than hurricane force winds these days, from dudes in mascara whining about how bad life sucks to hip hop turning into a barely literate advertisement for illiteracy to fucking T-pain and his creepy voicebox bullshit on every damn song you hear...
Now this pasty Lance Bass looking honkey's talking about making a comeback tour
Great, just what traveling salesmen across the world need. Their happy hour at the airport Ramada cocktail lounge getting their vibe fucked up by some near thirty year old ex-hipster that's gotta double shift at Old Navy the next morning who couldn't even get a gig on Tool Academy
Worst off, one racist ass muthafucka to boot, too
His face almost contorts like a Romainian gymnast in hatred when he says this.
I saw his little shoot....
I see. I see know, the NIGGA'S gotta be the errand boy, huh? I'm the one playing Chicken George to Rev and Gladiator, right? A black dude's working for two white boy and I'm the house boy, huh?
Yessum, Massah Rev. Isa bee's a good boy, huh? Isa besa loyal and I's works goods and gets to sleep in da big house and gets extra chitlins....
Then that shit at the taco joint...
Yo, Lance, if that shoot was any more racist, you’d have a Mexican slanging oranges on the side of the freeway or stealing rims or worse...
Covering Enrique Iglasias tunes.
And they get to be backup dancers? Oh, wow. How empowering. Why don’t you just make them wear sombreros and sing “La Cucaracha”?
Oh, Lord, this nigga makes my heartburn flare up....
Our emmaculate and seething Hardcore king stops to breath, refocusing his evil chi, then...
With a horrific grin, he looks at the ring attendant trying to put out the smoldering P.A. and barks an order.
Hey, ring monkey! Go get me a guitar and a mic stand. I'm gonna put my ire on wax.
The ring attendant puts down the fire extingisher and gets the gear. Cannabis sets everything up and tunes the guitar.
Ladies and gentlmen, you get a treat tonight. Not only do you get to see me tomorrow beat this brown skin hating, bubblegum pop candy ass like he stole something from me, tonight, Kid Cannabis saves the music industry.
No Auto Tune, no dance routines. No lead singers ditching you to sell millions of records while the rest of the band has to get jobs at Radio Shack. Get your streaming feeds ready, get this on YouTube because tomorrow, I'ma sell a million ringtones with this tune. Tonight, SWA proudly presents the premiere of the soon to be Billboard smash hit....
"Put Your Ass Through the Table!"
1,2,3,4.....
*starts strumming the guitar*
In the land of hockey pucks and the zamboni,
You get to, see the champ beat a jabroni
Thought he was tough, he was Milli Vanilli phony
Uh...Billy Idol, he sings Moni Moni!
*guitar refrain*
He hates brown people and looks like Lance Bass
He dances like a spastic crackhead and he sings like an ass
The Kid's gonna roll him up and smoke him grass
And by tomorrow night, he'll be broken like glass, because I...
(chorus)
Put his ass through the table! Yes I...
Put his ass through the table.
He thought he was able, but he fucked with the Kid and the Sedition stable.
So now like the Dudley Boys, I'ma gonna...
Put his ass through the table. Oh, honkey...
You're going through that fucking table!
(more guitar work)
Your music makes a nigga wanna hit the stereo's mute
I wanna throw all your cd's down a garbage chute
We could've co-existed but you wanna get cute
Your stupidity is chronic, but your talent's only accute.
You coulda made a living jerking curtain for years
But you mess with the best, now it'll end in tears
You acting like a drunk who had too many beers
And now, you gonna face all your deepest fears, when the Kid...
Puts your ass through a table, I'm gonna
Put that ass through a table, you know I'll
Put your ass through a table, Juan and Paco will be screaming chinga tu madre at you when I...
Put your ass through the table. Break it down.....
(channels Jimi Hendrix with a kick ass guitar solo, then)
This is the part of the show where I'd ask you to get out yo' muthafucking seats and dance, but, well, Canadians ain't got no rythm. It's just genetics, like people from this country with actually talent emigrating away from here.
Ask Shatner. Ask Michael J. Fox. His Parkinson's having ass jumped in the DeLorean and did 88 mph to get the fuck out of this ice coated purgatory!
1,2,3,4....
You get to, see the champ beat a jabroni
Thought he was tough, he was Milli Vanilli phony
Uh...Billy Idol, he sings Moni Moni!
*guitar refrain*
He hates brown people and looks like Lance Bass
He dances like a spastic crackhead and he sings like an ass
The Kid's gonna roll him up and smoke him grass
And by tomorrow night, he'll be broken like glass, because I...
(chorus)
Put his ass through the table! Yes I...
Put his ass through the table.
He thought he was able, but he fucked with the Kid and the Sedition stable.
So now like the Dudley Boys, I'ma gonna...
Put his ass through the table. Oh, honkey...
You're going through that fucking table!
(more guitar work)
Your music makes a nigga wanna hit the stereo's mute
I wanna throw all your cd's down a garbage chute
We could've co-existed but you wanna get cute
Your stupidity is chronic, but your talent's only accute.
You coulda made a living jerking curtain for years
But you mess with the best, now it'll end in tears
You acting like a drunk who had too many beers
And now, you gonna face all your deepest fears, when the Kid...
Puts your ass through a table, I'm gonna
Put that ass through a table, you know I'll
Put your ass through a table, Juan and Paco will be screaming chinga tu madre at you when I...
Put your ass through the table. Break it down.....
(channels Jimi Hendrix with a kick ass guitar solo, then)
This is the part of the show where I'd ask you to get out yo' muthafucking seats and dance, but, well, Canadians ain't got no rythm. It's just genetics, like people from this country with actually talent emigrating away from here.
Ask Shatner. Ask Michael J. Fox. His Parkinson's having ass jumped in the DeLorean and did 88 mph to get the fuck out of this ice coated purgatory!
1,2,3,4....
Now people are sharpening hockey sticks in the stands and ready to riot, but the show must go on.
Your music and wrestling is handicapped lame
Like the Jackson 5, I'm Michael, your ass is Jermaine
Talent level wise, nigga, we are not the same
I'ma hit triple platinum, don't be a hater and blame.
The next time you get on stage, you'll need a wheelchair ramp
Because you, got on the mic with the Billboard Champ
Talked shit about me and the Sedition camp
Now I'ma fuck your day up like a real bad cramp.
(Creshendo time)
You couldn't sell 2 records if you released a double CD
Fuck with the best, you're gonna get burnt like you got VD
You don't know a wristlock for a a wristwatch, we'll see it on TV
You rolling on the ground, pants filled with your own pee
You comeback tour is cancelled, no more groupees
You'll be on VH1 screaming what happened to me?
They'll see everywhere from Taiwan to Italy
What exactly happens when corny cats like you try to maddog me
when I...
Sing it with me!
(chorus)
Put your ass through a table! Yessir, You and your ass are...
Gonna get put through a table!
You think you can beat me, dude, you mentally unstable
You're going through that wood like you were a staple
You're cornier than popcorn and sugary like syrup that's maple
They'll see it on tv from Moscow to Naples
Me, the BEST THANG SMOKING, crashing your afterparty when I....
(slow it down and finish)
Put your ass through a table.
Son, I'm gonna, put you through a table.
You'll be screaming "no mas, no mas!" as you go through the table!
Right through that....
*guitar riff*
Spanish announcer's table!
Table of brown people that hate you table.
Retire, piss off, and get fat like Mabel after I.....
Put you...through that.....taaaaaa.....bbbbbble. Yeah, yeah, Yeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaahh!
Like the Jackson 5, I'm Michael, your ass is Jermaine
Talent level wise, nigga, we are not the same
I'ma hit triple platinum, don't be a hater and blame.
The next time you get on stage, you'll need a wheelchair ramp
Because you, got on the mic with the Billboard Champ
Talked shit about me and the Sedition camp
Now I'ma fuck your day up like a real bad cramp.
(Creshendo time)
You couldn't sell 2 records if you released a double CD
Fuck with the best, you're gonna get burnt like you got VD
You don't know a wristlock for a a wristwatch, we'll see it on TV
You rolling on the ground, pants filled with your own pee
You comeback tour is cancelled, no more groupees
You'll be on VH1 screaming what happened to me?
They'll see everywhere from Taiwan to Italy
What exactly happens when corny cats like you try to maddog me
when I...
Sing it with me!
(chorus)
Put your ass through a table! Yessir, You and your ass are...
Gonna get put through a table!
You think you can beat me, dude, you mentally unstable
You're going through that wood like you were a staple
You're cornier than popcorn and sugary like syrup that's maple
They'll see it on tv from Moscow to Naples
Me, the BEST THANG SMOKING, crashing your afterparty when I....
(slow it down and finish)
Put your ass through a table.
Son, I'm gonna, put you through a table.
You'll be screaming "no mas, no mas!" as you go through the table!
Right through that....
*guitar riff*
Spanish announcer's table!
Table of brown people that hate you table.
Retire, piss off, and get fat like Mabel after I.....
Put you...through that.....taaaaaa.....bbbbbble. Yeah, yeah, Yeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaahh!
Security prevents people from chucking beer bottles and Cannabis chucks his guitar and takes a bow.
FUCK YOU VERY MUCH, EDMONTON.....GOOD NIGHT!
He drops his mic, flips off the crowd, and walks out of the arena.
Ladies and gentlemen...
Cannabis has left the building!
(Smoke Out!)