Post by Jack Owyns on Dec 3, 2014 3:16:47 GMT
The footage starts.
“Oddball… ODDBALL! Look, look at this picture…” Jack takes a picture of Lora Shaw and almost punches Oddball in the face with it. “First gut reaction.”
“Is that…”
“Jeffery Starr… close, but NOPE, that is fuckin’ Lora Shaw.”
“Is it a… female?”
Jack pulls the picture away, taking another look for himself. “I don’t fuckin’ know man. I… fuck, I just can’t tell, you know. But she does remind me of somebody, but I just, can’t put a face to the name. Oh… WAIT! SHUT THE FUCKIN’ CAMERA OFF!”
The footage goes black, and then an 80s cartoon airs.
The opening footage of He-Man goes to a blank screen and is replaced by a footage of Jack Owyns again.
“BITCH! You know, you look like fuckin’ He-Man… the resemblance is fuckin’ almost uncanny. AND, if you’re not fuckin’ sure where I am going with this… let me spell it out to you, alright… I think you are fuckin’ hideous looking, I think you look like a fuckin’ dude, you Liz Small’s wannabe. How the fuck does that retarded child say it, what is her saying, oh right… GA-GROSS! You think you might make it, but you really won’t. You know why… cause looks fuckin’ sell, and you just don’t fuckin’ have it. Listening to you mention, your bitch there toss your salad… I fuckin’ vomited, my eyes burned from the images in my head, I wanted to take a god damn nail, stick it at the bridge of my nose, and give myself a lobotomy.”
A shiver ran down Jack’s spine.
“And LOOK, at this… another SUBMISSION specialist eh? That lacks, strength, stamina, and endurance. AM I fighting Damian Cole with a blonde wig on here? Looking at this so-called bitches facial structure, I really cannot tell, well beside the fact you are what… 5’5” and you weight a 115 lbs. You’d think, somebody with such an EXCELLENT submission style, would put a little more fuckin’ effort into the strength part, ‘cause you know, without fuckin’ strength behind a submission, how the fuck do you actually plan to lock it in huh? Like fuckin’ really. Do you think, when I am fuckin’ stronger than you, that somebody as weak as fuckin’ you can actually submit me? COME ON. YOU, are no fuckin’ threat to me.”
Jack takes another peak at the picture, and looks disgusted as he crumples up the paper and toss it.
“AND that chin, oh god the fuckin’ chin looks fuckin’ HUGE! You’d think, with a chin structure like that, you could take a fuckin’ punch, but GUESS WHAT! That is not the fuckin’ case either. Fuck if I want too, I could fuckin’ walk right up to you, and fuckin’ one punch you. EASY!”
“And I don’t give a fuck if your team Marty or not, the moment you, step inside that ring, you are in my fuckin’ way, and I will eliminate you, and your bitch.”
“I’ll deal with Warren Shaw next.”
The footage ends.
“Oddball… ODDBALL! Look, look at this picture…” Jack takes a picture of Lora Shaw and almost punches Oddball in the face with it. “First gut reaction.”
“Is that…”
“Jeffery Starr… close, but NOPE, that is fuckin’ Lora Shaw.”
“Is it a… female?”
Jack pulls the picture away, taking another look for himself. “I don’t fuckin’ know man. I… fuck, I just can’t tell, you know. But she does remind me of somebody, but I just, can’t put a face to the name. Oh… WAIT! SHUT THE FUCKIN’ CAMERA OFF!”
The footage goes black, and then an 80s cartoon airs.
"He-Man... And the Master of the Universe!
I am Adam, Prince of Eternia, Defender of the Secrets of Castle Greyskull. This is Kringer, my fearless friend. Fabulous, secret powers were revealed to me the day I held aloft my magic sword and said: "By the Power of Greyskull!"
He-Man, He-Man . . . I have the power!
Kringer became the mighty BattleCat and I became He-Man, the most powerful man in the Universe! Only three others share this secret . . . Our friends the Sorceress, Man-at-Arms, and Orko. Together we defend Castle Greyskull from the evil forces of Skeletor. . . . He-Man!"
The opening footage of He-Man goes to a blank screen and is replaced by a footage of Jack Owyns again.
“BITCH! You know, you look like fuckin’ He-Man… the resemblance is fuckin’ almost uncanny. AND, if you’re not fuckin’ sure where I am going with this… let me spell it out to you, alright… I think you are fuckin’ hideous looking, I think you look like a fuckin’ dude, you Liz Small’s wannabe. How the fuck does that retarded child say it, what is her saying, oh right… GA-GROSS! You think you might make it, but you really won’t. You know why… cause looks fuckin’ sell, and you just don’t fuckin’ have it. Listening to you mention, your bitch there toss your salad… I fuckin’ vomited, my eyes burned from the images in my head, I wanted to take a god damn nail, stick it at the bridge of my nose, and give myself a lobotomy.”
A shiver ran down Jack’s spine.
“And LOOK, at this… another SUBMISSION specialist eh? That lacks, strength, stamina, and endurance. AM I fighting Damian Cole with a blonde wig on here? Looking at this so-called bitches facial structure, I really cannot tell, well beside the fact you are what… 5’5” and you weight a 115 lbs. You’d think, somebody with such an EXCELLENT submission style, would put a little more fuckin’ effort into the strength part, ‘cause you know, without fuckin’ strength behind a submission, how the fuck do you actually plan to lock it in huh? Like fuckin’ really. Do you think, when I am fuckin’ stronger than you, that somebody as weak as fuckin’ you can actually submit me? COME ON. YOU, are no fuckin’ threat to me.”
Jack takes another peak at the picture, and looks disgusted as he crumples up the paper and toss it.
“AND that chin, oh god the fuckin’ chin looks fuckin’ HUGE! You’d think, with a chin structure like that, you could take a fuckin’ punch, but GUESS WHAT! That is not the fuckin’ case either. Fuck if I want too, I could fuckin’ walk right up to you, and fuckin’ one punch you. EASY!”
“And I don’t give a fuck if your team Marty or not, the moment you, step inside that ring, you are in my fuckin’ way, and I will eliminate you, and your bitch.”
“I’ll deal with Warren Shaw next.”
The footage ends.
