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| The Last Lesson; El Lobo explains a few things | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Feb 5 2005, 11:22 PM (36 Views) | |
| BobPalindrome | Feb 5 2005, 11:22 PM Post #1 |
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[The camera fades in on what looks like a sterilized laboratory, complete with blank walls, meticulously cleaned countertops and assortments of scientific equipment – beakers, tubes, burners, and tanks. Gentle, soothing classical music plays in the background, but other than that, everything seems dull. Slowly, El Lobo walks into frame, wearing his mask and a bright white lab coat… with pocket protector, naturally. A clipboard is folded under one arm as he strolls into the scene, his head raised upward, giving a professorial look to the camera. He stops, puts both hands on the clipboard and smiles wide.] El Lobo: Greetings, viewers at home! You would not likely assume it by looking at me, but I am actually something of an educated man. I learned outside of the classroom, picking things up on the streets and in the business. Life has never pulled any punches with me, muchachos, so I’ve seen my share of hard knocks. For example, I know now to never trust anyone too much and never to get too attached to anyone either. Oh, and of course… “If it’s yellow, let it mellow; if it’s brown, flush it down.” But I keep learning, my friends. For example, here I’ve learned that Bill Kuriyama… Yes, the FSC champion… is mentally retarded. How else could you explain his tendencies to go on and on about… not really anything… and then act like he’s said something meaningful? And you can’t forget the stupidity that comes out of his mouth. (in childish tone) “Gosh darn it, Lobo, me and you are just alike… nyuk!” (shaking head) Stupido, you and me have nothing in common. You’re some pretty face who was on the wrestling team in some Podunk cowtown before you considered the pro-wrestling industry. You got pretty good at the technical stuff and now you’ve made a career out of it. And though you try to make everyone hate you, it’s pretty obvious that you’re just a mischievous megalomaniac with delusions of grandeur. Who has any reason to be scared of you? But you should be very afraid of me, vato. That little documentary about my life? I wasn’t lying, amigo. I had it rough. You see, you talk about how we each had to “prove ourselves,” how we both have histories… You must be a short bus cowboy to think that our pasts can be compared, hombre! Are you going to trivialize who I am and what I’ve done? You’re just going to overlook death matches with some of the craziest, baby-killing psychos on God’s green earth?! If you had any sense, Kuriyama, you’d be terrified of me going fucking crazy in the ring tomorrow. But I guess that’s where your Mongoloid-ism comes in handy. [El Lobo reaches into his pocket and pulls out a forest green balloon, which he then places on a small gas container on the table. He fiddles with it as he goes on.] El Lobo: Speaking of your own idiocy, Bill, I’m reminded of your chica, Sam. Also very stupid. It would seem that every time we see her, she is cramming her face full of food! Perhaps when you leave her by herself, Bill, you should shackle her to the ground and set a picture of a pie in front of her. She will remain entranced, maybe drowning in a pool of her own saliva! [El Lobo begins laughing loudly, twisting the knob on the gas container. The balloon rapidly fills with gas, expanding larger and larger, before finally exploding with a noisy bang.] El Lobo: The little piggy goes pop. I am looking forward to maybe facing her in the future as well. I speculate she is even more inept than you are, Kuriyama. The fans should be thanking the Lord above that there is finally a true cruiserweight in this league. And you should be aware of the fact, too, Bill. You’re not going to be facing your ass hat of a girlfriend tomorrow, but an honest-to-God true high-flier with suicidal tendencies. Oh, and I can’t help but think that Sam isn’t talking about the size of your “sex machine gun” because it might be a .22 instead of the .50 you’ve been bragging about. If she’s curious, though, she can find out why they call me “Magnum Mexico”… [El Lobo chuckles again as he puts a hand behind the table. We hear a drawer open, and his hand returns holding a pair of ice-covered plastic balls, which were apparently frozen using that carbon process… you know, the kind used when Dr. Destructo came to your school and froze hot dogs? Like that.] El Lobo: Students, here we have two balls, representing the testicles of Senor Kuriyama. They were never that big to begin with, but with his girlfriend eating him out of house and home and his career in a rut, they have turned into this. And what will happen to them when he tries to stare me down, only to find my eyes glaring right back at him…? [El Lobo produces a large hammer from his other pocket and places the balls on the table. He then proceeds to smash them into tiny little icy pieces, which fly in every direction as he becomes lost in his violent indulgence. He regains his composure, however, and turns back to the camera.] El Lobo: You go ahead and train, Kuriyama. Drink a couple of protein shakes. Do as many push-ups, sit-ups and chin-ups your heart desires. But it doesn’t matter if you’re in the best shape of your life or if you’re just the ball of crap we all suspect you are. In the end, even the best you can muster is no match for the magnificence of El Lobo Loco. Tomorrow night, you will be going down, and I will leave you writhing in pain as I go on to enjoy my first FIW win… my first pay-per-view win… my first title win. History will be made, my friend, and you will do well to learn a few lessons from it. |
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7:06 PM Jul 11