Post by "The Moose" Mark Millar on Oct 30, 2005 19:40:02 GMT -5
The Moose is shown leaving the gym in jeans and a jean jacket. He has an Edmonton Oilers ball cap on in the cold Edmonton night air. He sees the camera and turns to it.
You something Ravager, I been watchin' you the past few days on Television. You've beaten up a couple new hands, some rookie wrestlers, random big guys on the street, yeah, yeah, fine. You keep talking about how you I'm not in your league. Where I come from, we figgered out a long time ago that the kinda people that pick fights? They're the real wimps. The Moose starts walking, the camera trying to stay in front of him as the cameraman walks backwars. It's like in that old movie, Ravager. You're a wussy. one part WIMP, one part PUSSY. But name-callin' aside, let's get it straight. A real man doesn't walk around beatin' people up to prove that he's a man. A real man knows he's a man --- he ain't gotta prove it to nobody!
When you step into the ring with The Moose tomorrow night, you're not jumpin' somebody not ready for ya, you're not sneak attacking anybody like the guy in the cafe th' other night. You're steppin' into the ring with six-feet, four inches, two-hundred sixty-seven pounds of THE MOOSE. And all of that force is gonna come crashing down on you like the worst oil rig blowout. Bring your three-thousand dollar suits and your ten-dollar haircut, you dumb bastard, and I'm gonna bring the ROUGHNECK. Welcome to Alberta, Ravager! Let's rock! The Moose pulls his hood up over his head and turns. The camera fades out.
You something Ravager, I been watchin' you the past few days on Television. You've beaten up a couple new hands, some rookie wrestlers, random big guys on the street, yeah, yeah, fine. You keep talking about how you I'm not in your league. Where I come from, we figgered out a long time ago that the kinda people that pick fights? They're the real wimps. The Moose starts walking, the camera trying to stay in front of him as the cameraman walks backwars. It's like in that old movie, Ravager. You're a wussy. one part WIMP, one part PUSSY. But name-callin' aside, let's get it straight. A real man doesn't walk around beatin' people up to prove that he's a man. A real man knows he's a man --- he ain't gotta prove it to nobody!
When you step into the ring with The Moose tomorrow night, you're not jumpin' somebody not ready for ya, you're not sneak attacking anybody like the guy in the cafe th' other night. You're steppin' into the ring with six-feet, four inches, two-hundred sixty-seven pounds of THE MOOSE. And all of that force is gonna come crashing down on you like the worst oil rig blowout. Bring your three-thousand dollar suits and your ten-dollar haircut, you dumb bastard, and I'm gonna bring the ROUGHNECK. Welcome to Alberta, Ravager! Let's rock! The Moose pulls his hood up over his head and turns. The camera fades out.