Post by "The Geriatric One" on Jun 26, 2010 17:12:33 GMT -6
(Waylon Hawthorne is backstage at an SWA house show with his grandson Rory. They walk the hallways.)
RORY: WOW, I never thought I would get a chance to meet Ian DeTornado. He's so cool. Thanks for introducing me.
HAWTHORNE: Yeah, he's okay I guess. Though I am pretty sure he's here illegally.
RORY: Now, now Grandpa. Remember our racism talk. That wasn't very politically correct.
HAWTHORNE: You know boy, back in my day we could call a spade a spade. An immigrant was called a moocher, a woman was called a housekeeper, and homosexuals were called weirdos. Now everyone's so sensitive.
RORY: Times have changed Grandpa we have equal opportunity in Canada now, no matter what your race, gender, or lifestyle choice is.
HAWTHORNE: Where oh where did we go wrong. I'll tell you where we went wrong. It was the blasted 60's. Back when men stopped wearing the pants, and women stopped wearing there bras.
RORY: The 60's were a time of liberation Grandpa. Men and women were no longer to be shackled by racial, or gender prejidice.
HAWTHORNE: Where did you get a stupid idea like that?
RORY: In my history class.
HAWTHORNE: I bet the teacher's a woman.
RORY: See Grandpa, it's those kind of generalizations that keep humankind from rising above.
HAWTHORNE: That's the queerest thing I have ever heard you say. I liked you better when you were 6 years old, and believing everything I said.
RORY: I am an individual, with an individual mind. This is not the caveman days Grandpa. A man can't just grunt and get what he wants anymore.
HAWTHORNE: But, grunting is what makes a man a man.
RORY: No Grandpa, the true test of a man is the compassion he shows to his fellow man, or woman.
HAWTHORNE: When did you become such a pansy. Come with me boy. I am going to take you somewhere to man you up.
(20 minutes later, Hawthorne walks into Billy Bob's Honky Tonk Bar and grill. A cowboy is yodelling on stage about drinking beer. Hawthorne walks up to the bartender.)
BARTENDER: Excuse me, we don't serve minors here. The boy is gonna have to leave.
(Hawthorne leans over the counter and whispers to the bartender.)
HAWTHORNE: Please, I am trying to stop him from turning into a civil rights activist. The little beatnik needs to learn to be a man.
BARTENDER: In that case I'll allow it, but no booze for him until Officer Joe Bob passes out.
(The bartender points at a police officer wearing a cowboy hat who is totally wasted.)
HAWTHORNE: Deal.
(Hawthorne sits back.)
HAWTHORNE: In that case, why don't you bring us the two fattest juiciest steaks you got. Make the medium rare.
RORY: Grandpa, I'm a vegan.
(Rory looks at the bartender.)
RORY: I'll have a Fresh Garden Salad, with a light balsamic vinegrette on the side, and an Evian water.
(Hawthorne smacks the boy upside the head.)
HAWTHORNE: Stop embarassing me boy. You'll have the steak.
RORY: No I won't. I'll never eat another living creature.
HAWTHORNE: I'm sorry Mr. Bartender. Can you give us a few minutes.
BARTENDER: Sure thing, I should tend to Officer Joe Bob anyways. He seems to be getting a little frisky with the waitress.
(The bartender steps away.)
HAWTHORNE: So you believe in women's rights, you believe in immigration rights, and your a vegetarian. I would blame your mother, but I always knew my bratty son could never raise a real man. If I can't get you drunk, and I can't get you eating a steak, than I suppose a bar brawl is my last option. Have you ever been in a fight boy.
RORY: No, I'm a pacifist. I don't believe in violence.
HAWTHORNE: But you like wrestling.
RORY: I like wrestling for the athleticism. It's almost like watching a good ballet. Not Swan Lake calliber, but still quite good.
HAWTHORNE: Wrestling isn't about athleticism. It's about two sweaty guys standing toe to toe with one another to fight it out and find out who is the better man.
RORY: That sounds kind of gay.
HAWTHORNE: Coming from the source... never mind. Besides there is nothing athletic about an Extreme Combat match.
RORY: Oh, I don't watch those. I think they're barbaric.
HAWTHORNE: Barbaric, of course they are. This week on Fever I will square off with Captain Insanity in an anything goes extreme combat match. The two of us will do what men do best and make mincemeat of eachothers faces until one of us can't take anymore. I'm going to take that little brat who calls himself an Extreme Legend, and beat him so bad, that he will know what a real legend is made of.
RORY: What will that prove, besides the fact that you are a typical war driven man, seeking to boost his own ego.
HAWTHORNE: What more needs to be proven? Captain Insanity has been strurring around like he owns Extreme Combat. He even walks around with an old Extreme Combat title from years ago. How desperate is that? He needs to be taken down a few notches, and get a lickin' that will keep on tickin' from "The Geriatric One" himself. I'm gonna beat him like he's a redheaded step grandson, and send him crying back to his momma. Then I'm gonna beat him some more and show him that this geezer is as Extreme as they come.
RORY: I just don't understand.
HAWTHORNE: Well, watch this.
(Hawthorne throws a beer bottle and it hits Officer Joe Bob in the back of the head. Officer Joe Bob thinks that the bartender was the one who threw it and punches him in the face. The bartender stumbles back and falls on the table of a guy with a handlebar mustache and a mullet. Mullet man gets up and punches Officer Joe Bob. Soon everyone in the bar is fighting.)
HAWTHORNE: Come on Rory, let's jump in.
(Hawthorne runs in and starts punching people out. Rory hides behind the counter and curls up in the fetal position and starts singing 'We Shall Overcome'. 10 minutes later Rory and Hawthorne are sitting on the curb. Hawthorne has a black eye and a bloody napkin stuffed up his nostril.)
HAWTHORNE: I just don't understand you boy. Not only did you hide like a sissy for the entire fight, but when I picked you up from behind the bar you screamed like a little girl.
RORY: I thought you were one of the other guys and were gonna punch me.
HAWTHORNE: You need to toughen up boy. Your beatnik values may make you popular with the ladies, but you're an embarassment to your Grandfather. You need to watch my match on Fever closely. Watch closely and you will understand the thrill of smashing another man's head to the ground. Captain Insanity will be black and blue by the end of the night, and I will be feeling the joy of a manly job well done. Watch and learn boy. Now come, I'll show you how to chop down a tree.
RORY: NO! You can't kill a poor defensless tree.
(Hawthorne buries his head in his hands. He shakes his head and stumbles away.)
RORY: WOW, I never thought I would get a chance to meet Ian DeTornado. He's so cool. Thanks for introducing me.
HAWTHORNE: Yeah, he's okay I guess. Though I am pretty sure he's here illegally.
RORY: Now, now Grandpa. Remember our racism talk. That wasn't very politically correct.
HAWTHORNE: You know boy, back in my day we could call a spade a spade. An immigrant was called a moocher, a woman was called a housekeeper, and homosexuals were called weirdos. Now everyone's so sensitive.
RORY: Times have changed Grandpa we have equal opportunity in Canada now, no matter what your race, gender, or lifestyle choice is.
HAWTHORNE: Where oh where did we go wrong. I'll tell you where we went wrong. It was the blasted 60's. Back when men stopped wearing the pants, and women stopped wearing there bras.
RORY: The 60's were a time of liberation Grandpa. Men and women were no longer to be shackled by racial, or gender prejidice.
HAWTHORNE: Where did you get a stupid idea like that?
RORY: In my history class.
HAWTHORNE: I bet the teacher's a woman.
RORY: See Grandpa, it's those kind of generalizations that keep humankind from rising above.
HAWTHORNE: That's the queerest thing I have ever heard you say. I liked you better when you were 6 years old, and believing everything I said.
RORY: I am an individual, with an individual mind. This is not the caveman days Grandpa. A man can't just grunt and get what he wants anymore.
HAWTHORNE: But, grunting is what makes a man a man.
RORY: No Grandpa, the true test of a man is the compassion he shows to his fellow man, or woman.
HAWTHORNE: When did you become such a pansy. Come with me boy. I am going to take you somewhere to man you up.
(20 minutes later, Hawthorne walks into Billy Bob's Honky Tonk Bar and grill. A cowboy is yodelling on stage about drinking beer. Hawthorne walks up to the bartender.)
BARTENDER: Excuse me, we don't serve minors here. The boy is gonna have to leave.
(Hawthorne leans over the counter and whispers to the bartender.)
HAWTHORNE: Please, I am trying to stop him from turning into a civil rights activist. The little beatnik needs to learn to be a man.
BARTENDER: In that case I'll allow it, but no booze for him until Officer Joe Bob passes out.
(The bartender points at a police officer wearing a cowboy hat who is totally wasted.)
HAWTHORNE: Deal.
(Hawthorne sits back.)
HAWTHORNE: In that case, why don't you bring us the two fattest juiciest steaks you got. Make the medium rare.
RORY: Grandpa, I'm a vegan.
(Rory looks at the bartender.)
RORY: I'll have a Fresh Garden Salad, with a light balsamic vinegrette on the side, and an Evian water.
(Hawthorne smacks the boy upside the head.)
HAWTHORNE: Stop embarassing me boy. You'll have the steak.
RORY: No I won't. I'll never eat another living creature.
HAWTHORNE: I'm sorry Mr. Bartender. Can you give us a few minutes.
BARTENDER: Sure thing, I should tend to Officer Joe Bob anyways. He seems to be getting a little frisky with the waitress.
(The bartender steps away.)
HAWTHORNE: So you believe in women's rights, you believe in immigration rights, and your a vegetarian. I would blame your mother, but I always knew my bratty son could never raise a real man. If I can't get you drunk, and I can't get you eating a steak, than I suppose a bar brawl is my last option. Have you ever been in a fight boy.
RORY: No, I'm a pacifist. I don't believe in violence.
HAWTHORNE: But you like wrestling.
RORY: I like wrestling for the athleticism. It's almost like watching a good ballet. Not Swan Lake calliber, but still quite good.
HAWTHORNE: Wrestling isn't about athleticism. It's about two sweaty guys standing toe to toe with one another to fight it out and find out who is the better man.
RORY: That sounds kind of gay.
HAWTHORNE: Coming from the source... never mind. Besides there is nothing athletic about an Extreme Combat match.
RORY: Oh, I don't watch those. I think they're barbaric.
HAWTHORNE: Barbaric, of course they are. This week on Fever I will square off with Captain Insanity in an anything goes extreme combat match. The two of us will do what men do best and make mincemeat of eachothers faces until one of us can't take anymore. I'm going to take that little brat who calls himself an Extreme Legend, and beat him so bad, that he will know what a real legend is made of.
RORY: What will that prove, besides the fact that you are a typical war driven man, seeking to boost his own ego.
HAWTHORNE: What more needs to be proven? Captain Insanity has been strurring around like he owns Extreme Combat. He even walks around with an old Extreme Combat title from years ago. How desperate is that? He needs to be taken down a few notches, and get a lickin' that will keep on tickin' from "The Geriatric One" himself. I'm gonna beat him like he's a redheaded step grandson, and send him crying back to his momma. Then I'm gonna beat him some more and show him that this geezer is as Extreme as they come.
RORY: I just don't understand.
HAWTHORNE: Well, watch this.
(Hawthorne throws a beer bottle and it hits Officer Joe Bob in the back of the head. Officer Joe Bob thinks that the bartender was the one who threw it and punches him in the face. The bartender stumbles back and falls on the table of a guy with a handlebar mustache and a mullet. Mullet man gets up and punches Officer Joe Bob. Soon everyone in the bar is fighting.)
HAWTHORNE: Come on Rory, let's jump in.
(Hawthorne runs in and starts punching people out. Rory hides behind the counter and curls up in the fetal position and starts singing 'We Shall Overcome'. 10 minutes later Rory and Hawthorne are sitting on the curb. Hawthorne has a black eye and a bloody napkin stuffed up his nostril.)
HAWTHORNE: I just don't understand you boy. Not only did you hide like a sissy for the entire fight, but when I picked you up from behind the bar you screamed like a little girl.
RORY: I thought you were one of the other guys and were gonna punch me.
HAWTHORNE: You need to toughen up boy. Your beatnik values may make you popular with the ladies, but you're an embarassment to your Grandfather. You need to watch my match on Fever closely. Watch closely and you will understand the thrill of smashing another man's head to the ground. Captain Insanity will be black and blue by the end of the night, and I will be feeling the joy of a manly job well done. Watch and learn boy. Now come, I'll show you how to chop down a tree.
RORY: NO! You can't kill a poor defensless tree.
(Hawthorne buries his head in his hands. He shakes his head and stumbles away.)
