Post by Chris Casino on Jan 7, 2006 14:08:36 GMT -5
- The Hunt Is Already Over -
We open on the huge private suite of the NAPW Champion Chris Casino and find him looking out through one of his huge windows. Twenty stories below him people crowd the streets of The Strip gawking at the billion dollar casinos. Across the street we can see the volcano erupting in front of The Mirage. Casino takes a sip of his cola and retreats from his opulent view of his city.
Casino: So....Let's see if I got this right. First, Predator declines my kind offer to face me on Monday Night Fights because he's a straight up bitch. Second, He has the nerve to think that his refusal to face me will save his sorry ass from a beat down by "The Future" Chris Casino. Finally, he decides to accept and now he's all but proclaiming himself the winner and new NAPW Champion. Predator, if you didn't have a mask on I'd swear Ross Perot was hiding under there. Not that some white trash, cousin kissin', ferret molester like you knows who that is.
Why? Why all of a sudden decide to take me up on my offer? Did my last little promo maybe strike a nerve? Maybe...Maybe you heard the truth about yourself and now you feel the need to redeem your honor? I could care less. All I know is one minute you're scared of getting your ass kicked, as you should be, and the second you're calling me out. Seems like you've been hitching a ride on the Bipolar Express my friend. I know some doctors who owe me favors. Maybe if you lick the mud from my wrestling boots I can get you a prescription of Paxil.
I want you to think about something Predator. I want you to think about...D!. You know, the so called MVP of NAPW. What happened to his ass when I went heads up with him? Oh yeah...He got destroyed and now? He's gone AWOL from the industry. What makes you think that I haven't got the same kind of plans for you? What makes you think...That it's YOU who are the hunted and I am the hunter? You know what my New Years Resolution was Predator? It was to pick off the trash in NAPW...One. By. One. You, my inbred friend, are walking into the biggest mistake of your life.
Casino takes a seat on his plush leather sofa and picks his NAPW Title off of the coffee table in front of him.
Casino: See this? This is the ONLY title in the entire company that matters. It's my life Predator. I LIVE for this belt. If you think I'm going to step into a ring with some jerk off from podunk valley or wherever your ass is from without a plan...Then you're horribly mistaken. Just like D!, you think you're smarter than you really are. Your fate is already sealed kid. At Monday Night Fights you walk into that arena as a fringe contender and a poor excuse for a wrestler. Once the show is over...You'll be carted out on a stretcher. Bloody. Beaten. Humiliated. Maybe you can find D! and the two of you can get married right here in Vegas or something. It'll be my gift to you.
I'm psychic Predator, did I ever mention that? I can see the future. In fact....
Casino lays his Title back on the table and closes his eyes. He starts to hum loudly shake his body like a mad man. He slowly opens his eyes and looks at us.
Casino: I see...Predator coming to Monday Night Fights. I see him getting ready for his match. I can see him applying his lipstick before he slips on his mask. I see Chris Casino kicking the living sh*t out of Predator and leaving him for dead. I see. Predator wearing a paper hat and working at a Jack In The Box. I see nothing but hard times and busted dreams for Predator. As for Casino....
Suddenly a door flies open and Trya Banks, the host of "America's Next Top Model & Victoria's Secret girl, stalk out of the bedroom. She's wearing a French Maids outfit and looks delicious.
Tyra: What. The. Hell.
Casino: I see Casino getting poon tonight....
Trya: Oh. No. You. Didn't. Get your ass in here white boy.
Casino smiles at his beauty of the night.
Casino: On my way sexy.
Tyra slinks back into the bedroom.
Tyra: (off screen) I still haven't found that ferret you were talking about. Ugh, I hate rodents.
Casino: Take a look Predator. This is the life of the NAPW Champion. A life you'll never know. See you soon kid.
Casino springs from his seat and hurries to the bedroom.
- Cut to a commercial for the new Predator shirt. It's black and looks like someone scribbled on it with a crayon. It reads, "I'm Hunting For Some Balls" Predator is dressed like Elmer Fudd. Now on sale at RatPack.com -
We open on the huge private suite of the NAPW Champion Chris Casino and find him looking out through one of his huge windows. Twenty stories below him people crowd the streets of The Strip gawking at the billion dollar casinos. Across the street we can see the volcano erupting in front of The Mirage. Casino takes a sip of his cola and retreats from his opulent view of his city.
Casino: So....Let's see if I got this right. First, Predator declines my kind offer to face me on Monday Night Fights because he's a straight up bitch. Second, He has the nerve to think that his refusal to face me will save his sorry ass from a beat down by "The Future" Chris Casino. Finally, he decides to accept and now he's all but proclaiming himself the winner and new NAPW Champion. Predator, if you didn't have a mask on I'd swear Ross Perot was hiding under there. Not that some white trash, cousin kissin', ferret molester like you knows who that is.
Why? Why all of a sudden decide to take me up on my offer? Did my last little promo maybe strike a nerve? Maybe...Maybe you heard the truth about yourself and now you feel the need to redeem your honor? I could care less. All I know is one minute you're scared of getting your ass kicked, as you should be, and the second you're calling me out. Seems like you've been hitching a ride on the Bipolar Express my friend. I know some doctors who owe me favors. Maybe if you lick the mud from my wrestling boots I can get you a prescription of Paxil.
I want you to think about something Predator. I want you to think about...D!. You know, the so called MVP of NAPW. What happened to his ass when I went heads up with him? Oh yeah...He got destroyed and now? He's gone AWOL from the industry. What makes you think that I haven't got the same kind of plans for you? What makes you think...That it's YOU who are the hunted and I am the hunter? You know what my New Years Resolution was Predator? It was to pick off the trash in NAPW...One. By. One. You, my inbred friend, are walking into the biggest mistake of your life.
Casino takes a seat on his plush leather sofa and picks his NAPW Title off of the coffee table in front of him.
Casino: See this? This is the ONLY title in the entire company that matters. It's my life Predator. I LIVE for this belt. If you think I'm going to step into a ring with some jerk off from podunk valley or wherever your ass is from without a plan...Then you're horribly mistaken. Just like D!, you think you're smarter than you really are. Your fate is already sealed kid. At Monday Night Fights you walk into that arena as a fringe contender and a poor excuse for a wrestler. Once the show is over...You'll be carted out on a stretcher. Bloody. Beaten. Humiliated. Maybe you can find D! and the two of you can get married right here in Vegas or something. It'll be my gift to you.
I'm psychic Predator, did I ever mention that? I can see the future. In fact....
Casino lays his Title back on the table and closes his eyes. He starts to hum loudly shake his body like a mad man. He slowly opens his eyes and looks at us.
Casino: I see...Predator coming to Monday Night Fights. I see him getting ready for his match. I can see him applying his lipstick before he slips on his mask. I see Chris Casino kicking the living sh*t out of Predator and leaving him for dead. I see. Predator wearing a paper hat and working at a Jack In The Box. I see nothing but hard times and busted dreams for Predator. As for Casino....
Suddenly a door flies open and Trya Banks, the host of "America's Next Top Model & Victoria's Secret girl, stalk out of the bedroom. She's wearing a French Maids outfit and looks delicious.
Tyra: What. The. Hell.
Casino: I see Casino getting poon tonight....
Trya: Oh. No. You. Didn't. Get your ass in here white boy.
Casino smiles at his beauty of the night.
Casino: On my way sexy.
Tyra slinks back into the bedroom.
Tyra: (off screen) I still haven't found that ferret you were talking about. Ugh, I hate rodents.
Casino: Take a look Predator. This is the life of the NAPW Champion. A life you'll never know. See you soon kid.
Casino springs from his seat and hurries to the bedroom.
- Cut to a commercial for the new Predator shirt. It's black and looks like someone scribbled on it with a crayon. It reads, "I'm Hunting For Some Balls" Predator is dressed like Elmer Fudd. Now on sale at RatPack.com -