Post by Chris Casino on Dec 26, 2005 15:10:08 GMT -5
- A Bright Future -
We open up on a living room that looks oddly familiar. The room has a large marble fireplace complete with a roaring blaze, several crudely done oil painting of men who look Italian in nature and a large swinging arm chair. It's the living room of "The Don" - sort of. We take a closer look and see that the men in the oil paintings are Rocky Balboa & Al Pacino from Scarface. The large painting that hangs above the fireplace is that of an old Sicilian woman with facial hair. Sitting in the swinging arm chair we see our hero (and NAPW World Champ) Chris Casino sipping a beer. He's dressed as always in a beautiful three piece suit and his long blond hair is pulled into a ponytail. Somewhere in the background we hear Italian music playing softly. The type of Italian music that you would hear at a cheesy pizza parlor in NYC.
Casino: Man...This place sucks.
The door opens and in walks Terry Brandon. He looks immaculate in his suit and his ever present briefcase is attached to his left wrist. Casino holds out his left hand and Brandon kisses the ring of "The Don"
Casino: Please sit.
Brandon smiles and takes a seat on a sofa that looks like it was lifted from a Salvation Army store.
Casino: What news?
Brandon: Don Travelli has told the world he wants a crack at that....
Brandon points to the new Americanized NAPW World Title resting on the lap of Casino. Chris snickers and pats the belts.
Casino: Obviously this man doesn't know his place. Tell me, why should I grant this insignificant little man a shot at the NAPW Title?
Brandon: You shouldn't Don, er, Casino.
Casino: Indeed. I belive Mr. Don Travelli needs to try his pitiful intimidation tactics on someone else. Someone who won't whip his ass like the illegal alien he is.
Brandon: Maybe he needs to wake up with a horses head in his bed?
Casino: Negative. I think "The Don" would enjoy that. Hell, he'd probably have sexual relations with it.
Brandon: Gag Casino.
Casino: You know...I think sleep with the fishes is code for "I like hairy b*ches" in Italian. Did you hear him talkin' about those guys? Tom, Harry and Dick? What kinda Mafia is this guy with?
The two men start to chuckle at Casino's warped view of life.
Casino: Bad enough I got Technique callin' me out but now this mook? This outta be a game show, Who Wants To Get Their Ass Kicked By Casino next?
Brandon: This Travelli, he's a small fry Chris. I bet Immortal beats him like a little girl.
Casino: No way, I bet "the Don" hears that I'm going to fit him with some cement shoes and he "vanishes" back to little Italy. Hey dude, check this out....
Casino holds up the NAPW World Title and places it inches from his face.
Casino: I can totally see myself in the reflection and I look GOOD baby!
Brandon takes out a notepad and flips to the middle of the book.
Brandon: It's cause you're a star kid. You got some other folks who want a crack at you. Shall we go over them? Heh, get it? Go over?
Casino: Meh, I guess. Keep it short though. I got sh*t to do.
Brandon: Alba?
Casino: No.
Brandon: Beil?
Casino: No I, uh, met with her last night.
Brandon: Jolie?
Casino: Naw, ever since she went to Africa she's gone all goody goody on me. Plus Brad has her on a short leash. Literally. Come on man, let's get this over with already.
Brandon: That chick from the rap videos? Baxter?
Casino clears this throat and glares at Brandon.
Brandon: I knew it. You lucky dog.
Casino: Hello? Terry? Can we move on?
Brandon: Oh yeah, anyway up first is of course Technique.
Casino: Negative. Even if I wrestled him with one arm tied behind my back it would still be me kicking his retarded DJ I Suck Monkey Balls self. Next!
Brandon: The Don.
Casino: What!? No. Tell him and the rest of his village people to piss off. While you're at it call immigration on his ass.
Brandon: Apocalypse. He's claiming to be the, uh, The Ultimate World Champion.
Casino busts out laughing. Brandon just shrugs as if to say ~ I dunno.
Casino: Oh you're serious? You go tell his stupid ass that he'll get a shot at the REAL World Champion right after he pulls his head out of his butt.
Brandon: That could be awhile.
Casino: Heh. NEXT.
Brandon: Predator.
Casino: The big space guy from the movie? What the fu...
Brandon: No, he's called the Predator. He's evidently told people he doesn't appreciate your recent suggestions that he stay on Action.
Casino: Well tell Predator he can suck my...
Brandon: (interrupting) The Maniac. This guy has won some big titles kid.
Casino: Yeah right. He probably took the D! approach and mowed the bosses lawn to get those titles too. Jesus isn't there anyone I can face?
Brandon: Chris Hart?
Casino's smile falters.
Casino: Chris Hart? What the Hell is he doing here?
Brandon: He's nobody Casino! He's done time in those garbage feds. He's one of those so called hardcore guys who likes to bleed. He's a waste of your time.
Casino: Yeah...Yeah screw him. Just uh, make sure he stays away from me okay? For his own safety.
Brandon closes his notebook.
Brandon: That's it kid. The talent of NAPW sucks.
Casino: You think? Oh well...How are, uh, plans going for the future?
Brandon: (smiles) All according to plan kid.
Casino: Good, now if you'll excuse me.
Brandon gets up and leaves the room as Casino looks into the fire.
Casino: I hate Canada.....
Casino picks up his title belt again and kisses it.
Casino: But I loooooooooooove you baby!
- cut to a commercial for Jacobs House Of Nuts! You Like Nuts? So Does Jacob! -
We open up on a living room that looks oddly familiar. The room has a large marble fireplace complete with a roaring blaze, several crudely done oil painting of men who look Italian in nature and a large swinging arm chair. It's the living room of "The Don" - sort of. We take a closer look and see that the men in the oil paintings are Rocky Balboa & Al Pacino from Scarface. The large painting that hangs above the fireplace is that of an old Sicilian woman with facial hair. Sitting in the swinging arm chair we see our hero (and NAPW World Champ) Chris Casino sipping a beer. He's dressed as always in a beautiful three piece suit and his long blond hair is pulled into a ponytail. Somewhere in the background we hear Italian music playing softly. The type of Italian music that you would hear at a cheesy pizza parlor in NYC.
Casino: Man...This place sucks.
The door opens and in walks Terry Brandon. He looks immaculate in his suit and his ever present briefcase is attached to his left wrist. Casino holds out his left hand and Brandon kisses the ring of "The Don"
Casino: Please sit.
Brandon smiles and takes a seat on a sofa that looks like it was lifted from a Salvation Army store.
Casino: What news?
Brandon: Don Travelli has told the world he wants a crack at that....
Brandon points to the new Americanized NAPW World Title resting on the lap of Casino. Chris snickers and pats the belts.
Casino: Obviously this man doesn't know his place. Tell me, why should I grant this insignificant little man a shot at the NAPW Title?
Brandon: You shouldn't Don, er, Casino.
Casino: Indeed. I belive Mr. Don Travelli needs to try his pitiful intimidation tactics on someone else. Someone who won't whip his ass like the illegal alien he is.
Brandon: Maybe he needs to wake up with a horses head in his bed?
Casino: Negative. I think "The Don" would enjoy that. Hell, he'd probably have sexual relations with it.
Brandon: Gag Casino.
Casino: You know...I think sleep with the fishes is code for "I like hairy b*ches" in Italian. Did you hear him talkin' about those guys? Tom, Harry and Dick? What kinda Mafia is this guy with?
The two men start to chuckle at Casino's warped view of life.
Casino: Bad enough I got Technique callin' me out but now this mook? This outta be a game show, Who Wants To Get Their Ass Kicked By Casino next?
Brandon: This Travelli, he's a small fry Chris. I bet Immortal beats him like a little girl.
Casino: No way, I bet "the Don" hears that I'm going to fit him with some cement shoes and he "vanishes" back to little Italy. Hey dude, check this out....
Casino holds up the NAPW World Title and places it inches from his face.
Casino: I can totally see myself in the reflection and I look GOOD baby!
Brandon takes out a notepad and flips to the middle of the book.
Brandon: It's cause you're a star kid. You got some other folks who want a crack at you. Shall we go over them? Heh, get it? Go over?
Casino: Meh, I guess. Keep it short though. I got sh*t to do.
Brandon: Alba?
Casino: No.
Brandon: Beil?
Casino: No I, uh, met with her last night.
Brandon: Jolie?
Casino: Naw, ever since she went to Africa she's gone all goody goody on me. Plus Brad has her on a short leash. Literally. Come on man, let's get this over with already.
Brandon: That chick from the rap videos? Baxter?
Casino clears this throat and glares at Brandon.
Brandon: I knew it. You lucky dog.
Casino: Hello? Terry? Can we move on?
Brandon: Oh yeah, anyway up first is of course Technique.
Casino: Negative. Even if I wrestled him with one arm tied behind my back it would still be me kicking his retarded DJ I Suck Monkey Balls self. Next!
Brandon: The Don.
Casino: What!? No. Tell him and the rest of his village people to piss off. While you're at it call immigration on his ass.
Brandon: Apocalypse. He's claiming to be the, uh, The Ultimate World Champion.
Casino busts out laughing. Brandon just shrugs as if to say ~ I dunno.
Casino: Oh you're serious? You go tell his stupid ass that he'll get a shot at the REAL World Champion right after he pulls his head out of his butt.
Brandon: That could be awhile.
Casino: Heh. NEXT.
Brandon: Predator.
Casino: The big space guy from the movie? What the fu...
Brandon: No, he's called the Predator. He's evidently told people he doesn't appreciate your recent suggestions that he stay on Action.
Casino: Well tell Predator he can suck my...
Brandon: (interrupting) The Maniac. This guy has won some big titles kid.
Casino: Yeah right. He probably took the D! approach and mowed the bosses lawn to get those titles too. Jesus isn't there anyone I can face?
Brandon: Chris Hart?
Casino's smile falters.
Casino: Chris Hart? What the Hell is he doing here?
Brandon: He's nobody Casino! He's done time in those garbage feds. He's one of those so called hardcore guys who likes to bleed. He's a waste of your time.
Casino: Yeah...Yeah screw him. Just uh, make sure he stays away from me okay? For his own safety.
Brandon closes his notebook.
Brandon: That's it kid. The talent of NAPW sucks.
Casino: You think? Oh well...How are, uh, plans going for the future?
Brandon: (smiles) All according to plan kid.
Casino: Good, now if you'll excuse me.
Brandon gets up and leaves the room as Casino looks into the fire.
Casino: I hate Canada.....
Casino picks up his title belt again and kisses it.
Casino: But I loooooooooooove you baby!
- cut to a commercial for Jacobs House Of Nuts! You Like Nuts? So Does Jacob! -