Post by Dr. Kazuya Kogemaru on Sept 2, 2010 15:07:57 GMT -6
Don't be fucking mean mugging me, Rev! I wasn't the one embezzelling my fucking world tour funds to buy some stupid shit!
Already, this is a really bad scene.
Sitting in the lobby of accountant extrodinare Artie Slime, CPA, are the members of the most diabolical and deranged stable in all of professional wrestling.
Rev, Gladiator, and of course...
Kid Cannabis! Wrestling God, and the man right now about one step away from punching Rev and Gladiator repeatedly in the nutts for taking funds out of his bank account whilst on his U.S. whirlwind tour ever since he became a music sensation thanks to "Put Your Ass Through a Table!"
#1 single for six weeks straight on the Billboards, eat THAT, Teen Throb!
Gladiator: How come your narrator never gives me a cool intro?
'Cause you smell like cat pee and you're a big fat fattykins, fatty! I don't give cool props to fat boys who reek like a litterbox!
I am not fat! Cannabis, you just HAD to exploit my weight problem, didn't you?
Rev: Dude, you could stand a few times a week on a treadmill. I mean, we haven't gone on any great criminal exploits lately, and it's really wreaking havoc on our cardio.
I mean, God, I'm starting to get a muffin top....
Rev, how the fuck was I not gonna notice you taking out $132,000 to buy a blimp, 5,000 lbs of ammonium nitrate fertilizer, and 2,000 squirrels?
What the hell were you gonna do with 2,000...
Never mind, I don't wanna have to lie in federal court!
And you, tons of fun...
Oh, I REALLY want to hear your excuse when you explain just what the fuck your sick ass bought with my....
BA-DOOM!
A sudden, deafening explosion rips through the building, and in the offices, screaming and shooting is heard.
Sounds like a perimeter breach!
Sounds like fun. Let's check it out!
The gang makes its way into the common area, and the scene is utter devastation!
Peggy from Human Resources got poison darted in the neck!
Henchmen clad in stylish red and black one piece hench suits drag Accounts Receivable to the center of the office bound in nets!
Everybody from IT, who had prior been enjoying the pot luck feast to commemerate the birth of Peggy's new twins, now find themselves gagged and bound while their armed assalants eat all of Bob's sublime tuna casserole!
And as if the worst had not passed, an ominous laugh and the clanking of metal boots on a metal ramp from the hovering GODDAMN FLYING FORTRESS OF DEATH floating right in front of the north side of the building tells us it's just getting started!
:MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!
Poor Floyd, the floor supervisor, sees this coming for him...
Before it wraps a single hand around his throat and cackles in a creepy robotic voice.
: You cretinous cockroaches thought you could hide you secret laboratory in an innocious looking office?
You fools!
Where is he? *squeezes harder*
WHERE IS DR. AMAZING?!?!
Henchman #21: Boss! Dude, we got the wrong address!
*flings Flyod at the water cooler in anger* What?!
#36: Dude, this is your accountant's office. We just raided the wrong facility!
Flustered, the fiend removes his helmet, revealing a very handsome, yet, insane looking Japanese visage!
Are you shitting me? That was like, the greatest enterance to an armed invasion EVER!
It had everything! Smoke bombs, guys rappelling down the walls...
#21, you shooting that H.R. rep in the neck whilst commando rolling...TOTALLY NINJA!
I know, boss! I've been working on that for weeks!
This is NOT what i needed. If Professor Rosen finds out, I will never hear the end of it!
What else could happen today?
In the background, Rev and G deliberate.
Told you Rev...SMOKE BOMBS! Smoke Bombs are the new black!
Totally need more smoke bombs, this guy's Rembrant with them. Tell Skippy to purchase some before Cannabis cancels his credit cards...
Excuse me, am I interrupting something, gentlemen?
They look up, and they stare right into the barrel of a gun that looks like something Master Chief should be wielding!
Crap!
Boy, I didn't realize how sucky it was to be on this end of the gun. No wonder people get upset with us when we take them hostage!
I asked you a question...
In comes Cannabis at full speed.
Oh, shit! Kazuya!?! Holy shit, it's been forever, homey!
You know this nutcase?
Fuck yeah, this was the dude I was talking about! Rev, G...
Dr. Kazuya Kogemaru He just graduated from Amy's school. This dude's a trip.
Yo, my nigga...you still banished from Japan for that radioactive salamander incident?
My people have absolutley NO sense of humor. You deploy one mutated reptilian abomination to wreak havoc as a spring break prank, suddenly they throw terms like "monster" "murder" and "war criminal" so freely around.
They shall pay for making me miss the cherry blossom festival in Shinjuku, my fiance had her heart set on seeing them!
Well, isn't this a proverbial pooch screwing....
Wait...is that tuna casserle?
Thrall, snatch that immediatley from that obese cubicle dweller! I have not had lunch yet!
*takes it, starts laughing*
Do not expect to see your precious crockpot anytime soon! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Dude, ask him....
I'm getting to it! *ahem*
Say, that was a spectacular infiltration!
Top notch!
Would you like to join our federation, Doc?
*with a raised eyebrow* Oh, yes...
Your little rancid back alley murderpit of a combat federation, the one with old people and pyschotic clowns maiming each other for minimum wage!
Hmmmm....*thinks*
Will I be permitted to conduct painful and questionable medical and pharmacutical experiments on the unwitting members of your roster?
Don't see why not.
Are any of you squeamish about the prospect of using chemical weapons, mind control, or giant aardvarks to exact revenge on my hapless enemies?
Not at all. In fact, I'd love to see the giant aardvarks. Can you really grow them gigantic?
*laughs* I grow them mind bogglingly big, silly little Caucasian man!
Agreed, then. Arrange all the details with Henchman #21, and I shall see you soon. Now, if you shall excuse me....
Henchmen, time to move! I want that storeroom cleared out in 5 minutes! take everything!
Staples, printer paper, White Out....
What about Post it notes, boss?
Take them all, we go through those things like toilet paper back at the lair!
And get all the security camera tapes, I want a minty fresh HD MPEG of my grand enterance on YouTube by 2400 hrs tonight!
MOVE!!
Oh, and Cannabis....
Do not fool yourself into thinking that just because I have aligned myself with your little clubhouse compatriots, that our business is now over.
Far from it, in fact.
You will know the price of interference, in case your ganja addled cerebral cortex forgot what happened in Cleveland.
I will have my revenge soon, my Negroidal nemesis. Oh, I will....
As he departs to oversee cleanup, Gladiator remarks...
Insane, stylish, heavily armed...
Wants to kill Cannabis...
Jury's out....I like him already!
*****
Days later, the audience in Birmingham stirs restless until the pyro and electricity erupts, and the theme music plays....
And the newest sign on to SWA and threat to world peace marches down the ring to address the masses of morons huddled together into this concrete toilet bowl this miserable city pawns off as a sporting arena spit hate upon him like a cobra.
He enters the ring and savors their hatred. A PA tries to hand him a microphone, but in a booming voice...
Take your insignificant self and your laughable communications device and leave my presence. My technology is more than suited to tap into the primitive PA system this redneck Mecca contains! *points at his earpiece*
The PA flees for his life, and Kazuya laughs the laugh of devils.
For far too long, you mouth breathing, shoe wearing monkeys passing thyselves off as homo sapiens have witnessed a mockery of martial combat!
You have made the eronious error of mistaking the inferior meatbags that beat precious bodily fluids out of each other for table scraps in this federation as warriors.
Easily, I can understand your mistake you make, seeing as I am addressing a bunch of Caucasian trashbags addled by the ravages of malt liqour and centuries of excessive inbreeding, who spend their meager unemployment checks on NASCAR memoribilia and Camaro parts.
I'm surprised you Skoal dipping Neanderthals have even figured out how to form multi-syllable sentences. very impressive indeed.
Obviously, this guy is none too worried about endearing himself to the local audience, but their booing just fuels him further.
Yes, boo me now. It shall be your only blow against me, for soon, I shall personally return to this inhabited landfill with a bag of marshmellows and a stick and make my S'mores over the smoldering ruins of this overgrown mobile home park!
Until then, the powers that be in this collective have decreed that as first act in a long, long career of gleefully inflicting sadistic and unnecessary violence for Nielsen points, I am forced to euthanize an octarian dolt....
In Waylon Hawthorne!
Many cheer for Waylon, despite the fact the cranky old fuck has been know to break into houses and steal meds!
As if for months, we've had to endure in digital transmission the prattlings of a carbon dated doofus who can barely defeat his incontinence, much less, an opponent, he has further eroded our collective intelligence by ineptly trying to instill a dose of testosterone to his dainty darling of a grandsire.
Ridiculous. It is akin to Justin Bieber offering advice on heterosexuality. It is akin to Apple feeding us a cartload of horse manure how the iPhones work.
Rory, my child, you have a better chance of being instilled with manhood by a pre op transsexual going to a John Waters movie marathon than you have of growing the proverbial sack by the aid of your idiotic grandfather, the man who cursed your line by taking a steaming dump into your gene pool eons ago!
Yeah, real classy, Kaz!
Child, your grandfather has infected you with far too much inanity. Like the blind leading the blind, he has misdirected you onto a path that shall result in nothing but ruin.
He has infected your pansy ass, but thankfully, I am a Doctor, and I have the cure.
And you shall witness the cure administered in all it's gory glory on Saturday!
He points maliciously to the ceiling, the square of steel and current hanging like a noose from the rafters.
Hawthorne-san, look upon your chain link tomb and let your Depends overflow with liquid feces like never before! For in this alloy abbatoir, your sissy heir shall witness how a truly evolved man handles his business.
You shall bear witness to Waylon being beaten and twisted up so horrifically, his hair plugs scream in unified agony!
You shall smell his Ben Gay marinated flesh fricaseeing upon the metal coarsing with enough voltage to light up the Vegas strip.
You shall see how truly inept and outmatched this Canuck caveman throwback is when he steps into the ring with the future, and between his Alzheimer's induce mumblings about Moxy and the Charleston, he shall beg for mercy. A mercy that shall only be granted when I kick this wrinkled bag of heart meds in the jaw with such force, his dentures shall break a land speed record flying towards the next time zone when I am finished playing with him!
And upon his crumpled remains, the SWA shall see what awaits them when they lock up with me...
And all who lace up boots shall despair!
With a grin decent people see only in nightmares, Kazuya stares into the camera to finish his diabolical diatribe.
Like any fossil, I shall send you back into whatever tar pit you crawled out of extra crispy.
Enjoy your Matlock and prune pudding deeply until Saturday, throwback. On Saturday, the only thing you shall dine upon is doom...
Always....DOOM!
Already, this is a really bad scene.
Sitting in the lobby of accountant extrodinare Artie Slime, CPA, are the members of the most diabolical and deranged stable in all of professional wrestling.
Rev, Gladiator, and of course...
Kid Cannabis! Wrestling God, and the man right now about one step away from punching Rev and Gladiator repeatedly in the nutts for taking funds out of his bank account whilst on his U.S. whirlwind tour ever since he became a music sensation thanks to "Put Your Ass Through a Table!"
#1 single for six weeks straight on the Billboards, eat THAT, Teen Throb!
Gladiator: How come your narrator never gives me a cool intro?
'Cause you smell like cat pee and you're a big fat fattykins, fatty! I don't give cool props to fat boys who reek like a litterbox!
I am not fat! Cannabis, you just HAD to exploit my weight problem, didn't you?
Rev: Dude, you could stand a few times a week on a treadmill. I mean, we haven't gone on any great criminal exploits lately, and it's really wreaking havoc on our cardio.
I mean, God, I'm starting to get a muffin top....
Rev, how the fuck was I not gonna notice you taking out $132,000 to buy a blimp, 5,000 lbs of ammonium nitrate fertilizer, and 2,000 squirrels?
What the hell were you gonna do with 2,000...
Never mind, I don't wanna have to lie in federal court!
And you, tons of fun...
Oh, I REALLY want to hear your excuse when you explain just what the fuck your sick ass bought with my....
BA-DOOM!
A sudden, deafening explosion rips through the building, and in the offices, screaming and shooting is heard.
Sounds like a perimeter breach!
Sounds like fun. Let's check it out!
The gang makes its way into the common area, and the scene is utter devastation!
Peggy from Human Resources got poison darted in the neck!
Henchmen clad in stylish red and black one piece hench suits drag Accounts Receivable to the center of the office bound in nets!
Everybody from IT, who had prior been enjoying the pot luck feast to commemerate the birth of Peggy's new twins, now find themselves gagged and bound while their armed assalants eat all of Bob's sublime tuna casserole!
And as if the worst had not passed, an ominous laugh and the clanking of metal boots on a metal ramp from the hovering GODDAMN FLYING FORTRESS OF DEATH floating right in front of the north side of the building tells us it's just getting started!
:MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!Poor Floyd, the floor supervisor, sees this coming for him...
Before it wraps a single hand around his throat and cackles in a creepy robotic voice.
: You cretinous cockroaches thought you could hide you secret laboratory in an innocious looking office?You fools!
Where is he? *squeezes harder*
WHERE IS DR. AMAZING?!?!
Henchman #21: Boss! Dude, we got the wrong address!
*flings Flyod at the water cooler in anger* What?!
#36: Dude, this is your accountant's office. We just raided the wrong facility!
Flustered, the fiend removes his helmet, revealing a very handsome, yet, insane looking Japanese visage!
Are you shitting me? That was like, the greatest enterance to an armed invasion EVER!
It had everything! Smoke bombs, guys rappelling down the walls...
#21, you shooting that H.R. rep in the neck whilst commando rolling...TOTALLY NINJA!
I know, boss! I've been working on that for weeks!
This is NOT what i needed. If Professor Rosen finds out, I will never hear the end of it!
What else could happen today?
In the background, Rev and G deliberate.
Told you Rev...SMOKE BOMBS! Smoke Bombs are the new black!
Totally need more smoke bombs, this guy's Rembrant with them. Tell Skippy to purchase some before Cannabis cancels his credit cards...
Excuse me, am I interrupting something, gentlemen?
They look up, and they stare right into the barrel of a gun that looks like something Master Chief should be wielding!
Crap!
Boy, I didn't realize how sucky it was to be on this end of the gun. No wonder people get upset with us when we take them hostage!
I asked you a question...
In comes Cannabis at full speed.
Oh, shit! Kazuya!?! Holy shit, it's been forever, homey!
You know this nutcase?
Fuck yeah, this was the dude I was talking about! Rev, G...
Dr. Kazuya Kogemaru He just graduated from Amy's school. This dude's a trip.
Yo, my nigga...you still banished from Japan for that radioactive salamander incident?
My people have absolutley NO sense of humor. You deploy one mutated reptilian abomination to wreak havoc as a spring break prank, suddenly they throw terms like "monster" "murder" and "war criminal" so freely around.
They shall pay for making me miss the cherry blossom festival in Shinjuku, my fiance had her heart set on seeing them!
Well, isn't this a proverbial pooch screwing....
Wait...is that tuna casserle?
Thrall, snatch that immediatley from that obese cubicle dweller! I have not had lunch yet!
*takes it, starts laughing*
Do not expect to see your precious crockpot anytime soon! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Dude, ask him....
I'm getting to it! *ahem*
Say, that was a spectacular infiltration!
Top notch!
Would you like to join our federation, Doc?
*with a raised eyebrow* Oh, yes...
Your little rancid back alley murderpit of a combat federation, the one with old people and pyschotic clowns maiming each other for minimum wage!
Hmmmm....*thinks*
Will I be permitted to conduct painful and questionable medical and pharmacutical experiments on the unwitting members of your roster?
Don't see why not.
Are any of you squeamish about the prospect of using chemical weapons, mind control, or giant aardvarks to exact revenge on my hapless enemies?
Not at all. In fact, I'd love to see the giant aardvarks. Can you really grow them gigantic?
*laughs* I grow them mind bogglingly big, silly little Caucasian man!
Agreed, then. Arrange all the details with Henchman #21, and I shall see you soon. Now, if you shall excuse me....
Henchmen, time to move! I want that storeroom cleared out in 5 minutes! take everything!
Staples, printer paper, White Out....
What about Post it notes, boss?
Take them all, we go through those things like toilet paper back at the lair!
And get all the security camera tapes, I want a minty fresh HD MPEG of my grand enterance on YouTube by 2400 hrs tonight!
MOVE!!
Oh, and Cannabis....
Do not fool yourself into thinking that just because I have aligned myself with your little clubhouse compatriots, that our business is now over.
Far from it, in fact.
You will know the price of interference, in case your ganja addled cerebral cortex forgot what happened in Cleveland.
I will have my revenge soon, my Negroidal nemesis. Oh, I will....
As he departs to oversee cleanup, Gladiator remarks...
Insane, stylish, heavily armed...
Wants to kill Cannabis...
Jury's out....I like him already!
*****
Days later, the audience in Birmingham stirs restless until the pyro and electricity erupts, and the theme music plays....
And the newest sign on to SWA and threat to world peace marches down the ring to address the masses of morons huddled together into this concrete toilet bowl this miserable city pawns off as a sporting arena spit hate upon him like a cobra.
He enters the ring and savors their hatred. A PA tries to hand him a microphone, but in a booming voice...
Take your insignificant self and your laughable communications device and leave my presence. My technology is more than suited to tap into the primitive PA system this redneck Mecca contains! *points at his earpiece*
The PA flees for his life, and Kazuya laughs the laugh of devils.
For far too long, you mouth breathing, shoe wearing monkeys passing thyselves off as homo sapiens have witnessed a mockery of martial combat!
You have made the eronious error of mistaking the inferior meatbags that beat precious bodily fluids out of each other for table scraps in this federation as warriors.
Easily, I can understand your mistake you make, seeing as I am addressing a bunch of Caucasian trashbags addled by the ravages of malt liqour and centuries of excessive inbreeding, who spend their meager unemployment checks on NASCAR memoribilia and Camaro parts.
I'm surprised you Skoal dipping Neanderthals have even figured out how to form multi-syllable sentences. very impressive indeed.
Obviously, this guy is none too worried about endearing himself to the local audience, but their booing just fuels him further.
Yes, boo me now. It shall be your only blow against me, for soon, I shall personally return to this inhabited landfill with a bag of marshmellows and a stick and make my S'mores over the smoldering ruins of this overgrown mobile home park!
Until then, the powers that be in this collective have decreed that as first act in a long, long career of gleefully inflicting sadistic and unnecessary violence for Nielsen points, I am forced to euthanize an octarian dolt....
In Waylon Hawthorne!
Many cheer for Waylon, despite the fact the cranky old fuck has been know to break into houses and steal meds!
As if for months, we've had to endure in digital transmission the prattlings of a carbon dated doofus who can barely defeat his incontinence, much less, an opponent, he has further eroded our collective intelligence by ineptly trying to instill a dose of testosterone to his dainty darling of a grandsire.
Ridiculous. It is akin to Justin Bieber offering advice on heterosexuality. It is akin to Apple feeding us a cartload of horse manure how the iPhones work.
Rory, my child, you have a better chance of being instilled with manhood by a pre op transsexual going to a John Waters movie marathon than you have of growing the proverbial sack by the aid of your idiotic grandfather, the man who cursed your line by taking a steaming dump into your gene pool eons ago!
Yeah, real classy, Kaz!
Child, your grandfather has infected you with far too much inanity. Like the blind leading the blind, he has misdirected you onto a path that shall result in nothing but ruin.
He has infected your pansy ass, but thankfully, I am a Doctor, and I have the cure.
And you shall witness the cure administered in all it's gory glory on Saturday!
He points maliciously to the ceiling, the square of steel and current hanging like a noose from the rafters.
Hawthorne-san, look upon your chain link tomb and let your Depends overflow with liquid feces like never before! For in this alloy abbatoir, your sissy heir shall witness how a truly evolved man handles his business.
You shall bear witness to Waylon being beaten and twisted up so horrifically, his hair plugs scream in unified agony!
You shall smell his Ben Gay marinated flesh fricaseeing upon the metal coarsing with enough voltage to light up the Vegas strip.
You shall see how truly inept and outmatched this Canuck caveman throwback is when he steps into the ring with the future, and between his Alzheimer's induce mumblings about Moxy and the Charleston, he shall beg for mercy. A mercy that shall only be granted when I kick this wrinkled bag of heart meds in the jaw with such force, his dentures shall break a land speed record flying towards the next time zone when I am finished playing with him!
And upon his crumpled remains, the SWA shall see what awaits them when they lock up with me...
And all who lace up boots shall despair!
With a grin decent people see only in nightmares, Kazuya stares into the camera to finish his diabolical diatribe.
Like any fossil, I shall send you back into whatever tar pit you crawled out of extra crispy.
Enjoy your Matlock and prune pudding deeply until Saturday, throwback. On Saturday, the only thing you shall dine upon is doom...
Always....DOOM!