Post by Teen Throb on Nov 14, 2010 23:58:22 GMT -6
{-- Teen Throb stands on a stage with a giant banner behind him marked OFFICAL TEEN THROB FAN CLUB CONFERENCE. The man himself Teen Throb stands before hundreds of his official fan club members. He's in the middle of a passionate speech. --}
TT- Every generation has a hero. Every generation has a legend. Every generation has that one athlete and that one entertainer that defines the sport. An athlete that every school child wishes they could grow up to be. I am proud to stand before you as this generations greatest multi plat form entertainer. I have the sweet sounding voice, the sexy dance moves, and the deadliest wrestling style in the business.
Unfortunately not everyone recocnizes this generation for what it is. Some of the geezers out there think our music lacks inspiration and solid lyrical content. They think our stars and teen fans are both superfiscial and shallow. Some out there are still clinging to a past long forgotten. I ask you now which generation will stand the test of time. They had music that was classy but never made reference to booties or boobs. You could swing to it but you couldn't grind to it. Their music had their Perry Comos and Bing Crosby's, our generation has Gagas and Kanye's. Their movies were filled with Clark Gable stroking the stache, we have Mel Gibson cursing out the Jews. Their wrestlers had corny pirate gimmicks, we had Jack Swaggers as heavyweight champion! Who will you side with? The geezers or the young blood? You girls want old Blackbeard Waylon Hawthorne or Mr. Pectastic Teen Throb?
{-- The reverse shot of the conference shows hundreds of screaming girls chanting Teen Throb's name. Teen Throb raises his Extreme Combat title in the air and sounds his battle cry. --}
TT- Hawthorne wants a war, lets give him a war! Join me in battle and I will lead you to victory!
{-- The girls rush the stage and throw themselves on Teen Throb. He's pinned underneath them as security officers start clubbing the teen girls and pulling them off of the pile. Teen Throb's Watch Out band mates grab hold of him and hurry him off the stage and out the back door. They dive into the limo and the driver puts the pedal to the medal. Through the back windows girls are still shown running after the limo. Teen Throb looks ready to passd out. He's covered in lipstick and his clothes are torn. Jaswinder has smelling salts under his noise to make sure Teen Throb is fully conscious. --}
Jaswinder- If you wanted to go to war with Hawthorne you picked the wrong army.
TT- What better army to assemble than the ones who love me, worship me and stalk me the most?
Jaswinder- How bout ones that aren't more likely to rip you to shreds for some sweet loving for one thing.
Jack- And ones that aren't 16 year old girls either. I've never heard of an army made up of teen girls.
TT- Okay so you're right about that but what else was I going to do I needed someone? Hawthorne is one crazy old man and he's gathering his troops. He has the ghost of Bob Backlund on his side and that's one old man even crazier than Hawthorne. A line has been drawn in the sand by that crazy old geezer. He's started a generation gap war. Last time we fought he attacked my music, this time he's trying to attack my manhood. I'm tired of every old person thinking they're better than us because they have standards and respect and we don't. This is now a full blown war. I want to declare war on the elderly. If the official Teen Throb fan club is made up of all little girls maybe we need to recruit someone tougher and more macho. I know just who to ask.
{-- Teen Throb is again on a stage delivering one of his awful hero speeches. There's another sign behind him marked ALL MALE TEEN THROB FAN CLUB CONFERENCE. --}
TT- So will you MEN take up your arms with me and go to war with these elderly that waste our time with their boring back in the good old days stories? The elderly menace needs to be put to rest once and for all. Forget youthenasia. I'm talking about a good old fashioned flex your muscles and rip into your enemy with claws of hate and rage and all that violent stuff. Are you men with me? Are you ready for war?
{-- The Reverse shot shows the very enthusiastic All Male Teen Throb fan club which is basically 3 guys. One flamboyant gay guy in spandex and a pink headband named Lonny, one "might be a man, might be a woman, might be a man becoming a woman or a woman becoming a man" with a muscle shirt and a buzz cut named Chris, and the club President named Petay, also known as Teen Throb's paid former stylist. --}
Lonny- We're with you handsome.
Chris- Count me in. I love a good war.
Petay- Is it a paid gig?
TT- You know it.
Petay- Wouldn't miss it for the world.
{-- Teen Throb's band mate Jerry tugs on TT's shirt and pulls him to the side. He's very quiet to whisper. --}
Jerry- Hey man are you sure these guys have what it takes to fight a war? They don't exactly look like they have the right stuff.
TT- Why not?
{-- Teen Throb doesn't understand Jerry's scepticism as he looks out at Petay filing his nails, Lonny putting on some strawberry flavored chapstick and Chris flexing his man pecs, or butch girl boobs, or former man pecs becoming butch girl boobs or former butch girl boobs becoming man pecs. --}
Jerry- Well a few reasons. Soldiers usually can reload a gun in micro seconds. They can do 200 push ups on command. They kill and butcher their enemies for looking at them wrong. Your army which I should point out is 3 guys I'd never picture in a fight. Petay is filing his nails, Lonny is applying a generous helping of fruity chapstick and Chris.
{-- Jerry looks again at Chris who's flexing the veins in his or her neck. --}
Jerry- Actually Chris just kind of scares me.
TT- You know what it's just like you to look only on the outward appearance. Petay may be filing his nails, but I imagine he'd stab Hawthorne and his geriatric cronies through the eye with that thing in the heat of battle. Lonny applying chapstick because as bad as any stab wound or gunshot wound is, it's no match for the discomfort of chapped lips. And Chris.
{-- Teen Throb observes Chris scratching his or her groinal or vaginal area. --}
TT- Chris scares the crap out of me too. Lets hope Hawthorne shares that fear.
Jerry- But it's still only 3 guys.
TT- Versus Hawthorne, the ghost of Bob Backlund and probably a few other old guy friends of his from Korea who were able to stay up late enough to come out for a fight. We don't need anything more than these guys.
Jerry- Don't forget Bill Dumas. He said he'd be backing Hawthorne in this match.
TT- Because he proved he was such a threat when he faced me a few weeks ago. Petay alone would eat Dumas alive, even without the nail file. Don't worry. I have this battle under control. The Generation Gap War will be as one sides as..... as........ as a match between me and Bill Dumas.
{-- Teen Throb turns back to his army of Petay, Chris and Lonny --}
TT- Gentlemen... and Chris... we will strike the heart of every senior citizen out there. We will take out one of the heroes of the baby boomer generations. Join me as we set out to kill Perry Como!
{-- We join Teen Throb, Petay, Chris and Lonny at the graveyard standing in front of a tombstone marked Perry Como - 1912 - 2001. --}
TT- That was easier than I expected.
Petay- I think someone beat us to the punch.
Lonny - This graveyard scares me. Will someone hold me?
Chris- I want to rip apart some sagging geezer flesh. Where's my kill?
TT- Patience. There are many more geezer generation heroes for us to kill. I think we need to pay a little to visit to Mr. Clark Gable.
{-- Here we are at another graveyard. Teen Throb and his army are in front of a tombstone marked Here Lies Clark Gable - A Loving Father and Husband. May his Mustache Rest In Peace. --}
TT- Wowe missed that one by half a century. Did any of you guys know about this?
Petay- No.
Lonny- Never even heard of the guy.
Chris- I swear if I don't fullfill my blood lust soon I'm going to scream.
TT- Please don't scream. There must be someone from Hawthorne's generation we can kill. Wait a minute I have a really great idea.
TT- Here lies Bob Backlund, palest world champion in the sports history. Sad sad story. He was a geezer too, but still a great man.
{-- The real Bob Backlund in all his pale glory walks up and puts his arm around a really sad Teen Throb. They both shed a tear. Teen Throb does a double take. --}
TT- Wait a second you're not dead.
Bob Backlund- You noticed.
TT- Why do you have a grave then? And moreso why are you at your own grave?
Bob Backlund- Someone once said you're only truly apprecioated once you're dead. I was tired of being known as the guy who lost to the guy who lost the title to Hulk Hogan. I thought people would remember me this way.
TT- That's sick.
Chris- Want me to kill him for you oh fearless leader?
TT- Do as you please.
{-- Chris swipes back his or her butch buzz cut and chases after Bob Backlund who runs away terrified. Teen Throb looks thoughtful as he walks away next to Petay and Lonny. --}
TT- I had this all wrong. I was so caught up being offended at how Hawthorne disrespected my music, my manhood and my generation that I thought I needed to declare war on his entire generation just to prove a point. I don't need to prove anything and I don't need a war. Hawthorne can talk all he wants about a better yesterday it really means nothing. If he believes his past age was a more honorable and tougher time to live in that's fine too. I don't need to worry about what he or any other old timer like the ghost of Bob Backlund can do. I've learned an important lesson. All these people are dead. Perry Como, Clark Gable, in another minute or so Bob Backlund too. They just die on their own. They get old and die. What danger can Hawthorne ever be to me? At first I was upset when I realized I would have to defend my Extreme combat belt on short notice and even more worried when I realized I would be in a no rules brawl with the craziest old man in the business, but by seeing how all his comrades just drop dead, I'm convinced Hawthorne has nothing left in him. He's as good as dead already. He can claim his generation is better all he wants. We young-ens have one thing he and his friends don't. A pulse. I'm going to put that old man down like Kanye does to white people and Mel Gibson does to the Jews. This is my generation. We're scum, we're dangerous, and we love it.
TT- Every generation has a hero. Every generation has a legend. Every generation has that one athlete and that one entertainer that defines the sport. An athlete that every school child wishes they could grow up to be. I am proud to stand before you as this generations greatest multi plat form entertainer. I have the sweet sounding voice, the sexy dance moves, and the deadliest wrestling style in the business.
Unfortunately not everyone recocnizes this generation for what it is. Some of the geezers out there think our music lacks inspiration and solid lyrical content. They think our stars and teen fans are both superfiscial and shallow. Some out there are still clinging to a past long forgotten. I ask you now which generation will stand the test of time. They had music that was classy but never made reference to booties or boobs. You could swing to it but you couldn't grind to it. Their music had their Perry Comos and Bing Crosby's, our generation has Gagas and Kanye's. Their movies were filled with Clark Gable stroking the stache, we have Mel Gibson cursing out the Jews. Their wrestlers had corny pirate gimmicks, we had Jack Swaggers as heavyweight champion! Who will you side with? The geezers or the young blood? You girls want old Blackbeard Waylon Hawthorne or Mr. Pectastic Teen Throb?
{-- The reverse shot of the conference shows hundreds of screaming girls chanting Teen Throb's name. Teen Throb raises his Extreme Combat title in the air and sounds his battle cry. --}
TT- Hawthorne wants a war, lets give him a war! Join me in battle and I will lead you to victory!
{-- The girls rush the stage and throw themselves on Teen Throb. He's pinned underneath them as security officers start clubbing the teen girls and pulling them off of the pile. Teen Throb's Watch Out band mates grab hold of him and hurry him off the stage and out the back door. They dive into the limo and the driver puts the pedal to the medal. Through the back windows girls are still shown running after the limo. Teen Throb looks ready to passd out. He's covered in lipstick and his clothes are torn. Jaswinder has smelling salts under his noise to make sure Teen Throb is fully conscious. --}
Jaswinder- If you wanted to go to war with Hawthorne you picked the wrong army.
TT- What better army to assemble than the ones who love me, worship me and stalk me the most?
Jaswinder- How bout ones that aren't more likely to rip you to shreds for some sweet loving for one thing.
Jack- And ones that aren't 16 year old girls either. I've never heard of an army made up of teen girls.
TT- Okay so you're right about that but what else was I going to do I needed someone? Hawthorne is one crazy old man and he's gathering his troops. He has the ghost of Bob Backlund on his side and that's one old man even crazier than Hawthorne. A line has been drawn in the sand by that crazy old geezer. He's started a generation gap war. Last time we fought he attacked my music, this time he's trying to attack my manhood. I'm tired of every old person thinking they're better than us because they have standards and respect and we don't. This is now a full blown war. I want to declare war on the elderly. If the official Teen Throb fan club is made up of all little girls maybe we need to recruit someone tougher and more macho. I know just who to ask.
{-- Later On --}
{-- Teen Throb is again on a stage delivering one of his awful hero speeches. There's another sign behind him marked ALL MALE TEEN THROB FAN CLUB CONFERENCE. --}
TT- So will you MEN take up your arms with me and go to war with these elderly that waste our time with their boring back in the good old days stories? The elderly menace needs to be put to rest once and for all. Forget youthenasia. I'm talking about a good old fashioned flex your muscles and rip into your enemy with claws of hate and rage and all that violent stuff. Are you men with me? Are you ready for war?
{-- The Reverse shot shows the very enthusiastic All Male Teen Throb fan club which is basically 3 guys. One flamboyant gay guy in spandex and a pink headband named Lonny, one "might be a man, might be a woman, might be a man becoming a woman or a woman becoming a man" with a muscle shirt and a buzz cut named Chris, and the club President named Petay, also known as Teen Throb's paid former stylist. --}
Lonny- We're with you handsome.
Chris- Count me in. I love a good war.
Petay- Is it a paid gig?
TT- You know it.
Petay- Wouldn't miss it for the world.
{-- Teen Throb's band mate Jerry tugs on TT's shirt and pulls him to the side. He's very quiet to whisper. --}
Jerry- Hey man are you sure these guys have what it takes to fight a war? They don't exactly look like they have the right stuff.
TT- Why not?
{-- Teen Throb doesn't understand Jerry's scepticism as he looks out at Petay filing his nails, Lonny putting on some strawberry flavored chapstick and Chris flexing his man pecs, or butch girl boobs, or former man pecs becoming butch girl boobs or former butch girl boobs becoming man pecs. --}
Jerry- Well a few reasons. Soldiers usually can reload a gun in micro seconds. They can do 200 push ups on command. They kill and butcher their enemies for looking at them wrong. Your army which I should point out is 3 guys I'd never picture in a fight. Petay is filing his nails, Lonny is applying a generous helping of fruity chapstick and Chris.
{-- Jerry looks again at Chris who's flexing the veins in his or her neck. --}
Jerry- Actually Chris just kind of scares me.
TT- You know what it's just like you to look only on the outward appearance. Petay may be filing his nails, but I imagine he'd stab Hawthorne and his geriatric cronies through the eye with that thing in the heat of battle. Lonny applying chapstick because as bad as any stab wound or gunshot wound is, it's no match for the discomfort of chapped lips. And Chris.
{-- Teen Throb observes Chris scratching his or her groinal or vaginal area. --}
TT- Chris scares the crap out of me too. Lets hope Hawthorne shares that fear.
Jerry- But it's still only 3 guys.
TT- Versus Hawthorne, the ghost of Bob Backlund and probably a few other old guy friends of his from Korea who were able to stay up late enough to come out for a fight. We don't need anything more than these guys.
Jerry- Don't forget Bill Dumas. He said he'd be backing Hawthorne in this match.
TT- Because he proved he was such a threat when he faced me a few weeks ago. Petay alone would eat Dumas alive, even without the nail file. Don't worry. I have this battle under control. The Generation Gap War will be as one sides as..... as........ as a match between me and Bill Dumas.
{-- Teen Throb turns back to his army of Petay, Chris and Lonny --}
TT- Gentlemen... and Chris... we will strike the heart of every senior citizen out there. We will take out one of the heroes of the baby boomer generations. Join me as we set out to kill Perry Como!
{-- Later that night --}
{-- We join Teen Throb, Petay, Chris and Lonny at the graveyard standing in front of a tombstone marked Perry Como - 1912 - 2001. --}
TT- That was easier than I expected.
Petay- I think someone beat us to the punch.
Lonny - This graveyard scares me. Will someone hold me?
Chris- I want to rip apart some sagging geezer flesh. Where's my kill?
TT- Patience. There are many more geezer generation heroes for us to kill. I think we need to pay a little to visit to Mr. Clark Gable.
{-- A little later one --}
{-- Here we are at another graveyard. Teen Throb and his army are in front of a tombstone marked Here Lies Clark Gable - A Loving Father and Husband. May his Mustache Rest In Peace. --}
TT- Wowe missed that one by half a century. Did any of you guys know about this?
Petay- No.
Lonny- Never even heard of the guy.
Chris- I swear if I don't fullfill my blood lust soon I'm going to scream.
TT- Please don't scream. There must be someone from Hawthorne's generation we can kill. Wait a minute I have a really great idea.
{-- The Grave site of Bob Backlund --}
TT- Here lies Bob Backlund, palest world champion in the sports history. Sad sad story. He was a geezer too, but still a great man.
{-- The real Bob Backlund in all his pale glory walks up and puts his arm around a really sad Teen Throb. They both shed a tear. Teen Throb does a double take. --}
TT- Wait a second you're not dead.
Bob Backlund- You noticed.
TT- Why do you have a grave then? And moreso why are you at your own grave?
Bob Backlund- Someone once said you're only truly apprecioated once you're dead. I was tired of being known as the guy who lost to the guy who lost the title to Hulk Hogan. I thought people would remember me this way.
TT- That's sick.
Chris- Want me to kill him for you oh fearless leader?
TT- Do as you please.
{-- Chris swipes back his or her butch buzz cut and chases after Bob Backlund who runs away terrified. Teen Throb looks thoughtful as he walks away next to Petay and Lonny. --}
TT- I had this all wrong. I was so caught up being offended at how Hawthorne disrespected my music, my manhood and my generation that I thought I needed to declare war on his entire generation just to prove a point. I don't need to prove anything and I don't need a war. Hawthorne can talk all he wants about a better yesterday it really means nothing. If he believes his past age was a more honorable and tougher time to live in that's fine too. I don't need to worry about what he or any other old timer like the ghost of Bob Backlund can do. I've learned an important lesson. All these people are dead. Perry Como, Clark Gable, in another minute or so Bob Backlund too. They just die on their own. They get old and die. What danger can Hawthorne ever be to me? At first I was upset when I realized I would have to defend my Extreme combat belt on short notice and even more worried when I realized I would be in a no rules brawl with the craziest old man in the business, but by seeing how all his comrades just drop dead, I'm convinced Hawthorne has nothing left in him. He's as good as dead already. He can claim his generation is better all he wants. We young-ens have one thing he and his friends don't. A pulse. I'm going to put that old man down like Kanye does to white people and Mel Gibson does to the Jews. This is my generation. We're scum, we're dangerous, and we love it.