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Pulling the plug; Kuriyama's career has a feeding tube
Topic Started: Apr 4 2005, 08:30 AM (51 Views)
BobPalindrome
Unregistered

[We open up with a somber scene at what looks like a hospice. A crowd of crying men and women gather around a large bed, which has a large man-shaped dummy on it. The dummy itself is nothing more than the shape of a man – the surface of it dull and colorless, save for writing on its chest. The writing, done in black magic marker, reads: “Bill Kuriyama’s Career.” The dummy is hooked up to several medical machines, including an EKG, which shows a pulse, but at a very slow rate.

In the forefront of the crowd is a small, petite woman wearing a big black wig, a pointy black hat and robes. Her face is done up with green face paint and she wears a prosthetic nose covered in warts. She grabs the arm of a man dressed as a doctor standing next to her and speaks in a pleading voice.]


Witch: Please… I know what Bill would have wanted. While his career may have faded from its former luster and is barely recognizable to what it once was, I cannot imagine a life where I did not have his career to ride into success on. Don’t you understand? While some people say the merciful thing would be to let him go and move on with life, they fail to realize… I have nothing else!

Doctor: (in a sympathetic tone) Yes, Ms. Kinloch. I understand this is a very painful time for you…

Witch: Seriously! Do you know how much proper incense costs? I can’t just go down to Bed, Bath, Beauty and Beyond, pal!

Doctor: …Right. You see, but in this vegetative state, Bill’s career isn’t moving anywhere. It’s stuck in a rut and I’m afraid, after all our testing, the prognosis isn’t good. Though not finished, Bill’s career is dead in the water.

Witch: You mean…?

Doctor: Yes, his arrogance is just show. He is either a narcissistic idiot or has delusions of incredible grandeur. He should seek professional help.

Witch: No, I already knew all that! What I meant is that this is as good as it gets! Oh, God, why didn’t I latch onto A.J. Styles when he was drunk at that frat party? Why did I have to give up sex for Lent?

Doctor: …You’re Catholic?

Witch: (bawling) Oh, God, why did I just admit publicly I’m a Christian? I’m ruined!

[As the scene descends into more crying and more grieving, Lobo saunters into the shot, carrying a large manila envelope. He peers out at the assembly through his mask, his eyes showing disgust and derision for what he sees. He adjusts his leather jacket as he slides up next to Bill’s career’s bed.]

Lobo: Good news, chicos and chicas! I come from the federal court. You see, I know what Bill wants if his career ends up in this state. Actually, I know what he wants better than he knows himself, since he keeps going on like a loco puta about how he’s going to beat me at Anarchy in the UK. But anyone with half a brain cell can see that he’s reached the ceiling, the very top of where he’s going. To let him go on thinking he’s the best there is would be cruel and mean, and so I’m going to aid him in ending his silent suffering. Here’s what I’m going to do…

Witch: I know! We’ll save money and buy a ring and start our own promotion! Bill can be our ace and we could pay people off the street to come in and applaud as he did pratfalls on the mat! It’d be great!

Lobo: …Actually, I was thinking I would beat the gringo out of his vanilla ass, bruja.

Witch: Oh. A federal court told you to do that?

Lobo: I have very persuasive lawyers. Mexican lawyers. With very dangerous, exploding law degrees!

Doctor: (raising a finger) I hate to interrupt, but what’s your decision on this?

[Before anyone else can do anything, Lobo reaches down and yanks the cords connecting the dummy to the machines. The EKG starts beeping and flatlines. The Witch lets out a scream and faints, falling into the arms of the doctor. As he swings the cord around in his hand, Lobo faces the camera, staring it down as he talks.]

Lobo: Yes, Kuriyama… When Anarchy comes, I’m going to pull the plug on whatever you had left in this little move for the top. You better treasure these next couple of days, because the rest of that belt will soon be mine. I’ve taken the insult of having half a title, and I’ve even busied myself with entertaining distractions while you got lost in the rolls of Brighty. But I’m hungry for a win, Bill. And muchacho, I’m thinking a win at my second pay-per-appearance might just be what the doctor ordered.

I hope you’ve learned to adapt, Kuriyama, because I sure have. While you were busy with Akebono, I’ve been facing off against Bradley Johnson… A man with a style not too different from yours. What that means is that I’ve been practicing for this match while you’ve been getting greasy with the living lard bucket. Mucho disgust-o, amigo!

So, pat yourself on the back, take a bow and get ready to exit stage left, vato… Your time came, it slipped by, and now you’re done for. Get out of the way and let El Lobo Loco up front. You have to ask yourself a question…

Okay, two questions. The first being, “Who’s your papi?”

But the second question is… Isn’t enough enough?

[Lobo swings the cord around in his hands some more as we get a close up of him smiling. Fade to black.]
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