Post by Hulk Fatass on Apr 18, 2011 15:30:22 GMT
We fade in with a direct look onto the sky. It's late night, and the stars shine proud. There is no moon. The camera slowly retracts, and pans to a cheap New York apartment building, one of those crumbling, ever so shitty buildings normally occupied by illegal immigrants, hookers or rock bottom junkies. The camera captures someone walking through the dangerously dark streets, and there's a feeling of disappointment in the air, due to the man not being fat.
The camera tries to film this little dude, but as he comes close to the building he blocks the camera with his hand and shoves it away. However, our nifty cameraman overcomes the odds by rising back to a stable position. The man is now opening the apartment’s door, and locks it behind him. The cameraman races to the entrance of the building, and forces the door open, which isn’t very hard, considering the goddamn building is on the brink of collapsing.
The camera speeds to the second floor, where the man is opening a door from one of the apartments. Upon noticing the camera’s steady presence, the furious man slams the door shut. However, the cameraman yet again forces the door open, and we arrive to a rather unusual apartment. The huge poster on the wall reads “JOB Wrestling Headquarters”, there’s some widespread shitty furniture, nothing is tidy, and there’s only one light in the entire room, which is from a small table lamp, in a table. In that table, using an oversized, nearly breaking plastic chair, sits the Fatass, the proud owner of JOB Wrestling. The man starts talking, a bit shy.
Man: Umm… Mr., eh…Fatass?
Fatass gets his eyes up from the table, and smirks.
Hulk: Oh, please, Vincent, just call me Hulk Fatass.
Vincent: Okay, Hulk Fatass…
Hulk: WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU CALL ME?!
Vincent (confused): Wait, didn’t you just say you wanted to be called Hulk Fat—
Hulk: How the fuck do you know what I say and what I don’t say?!
Vincent (completely dazzled): You just said it right in front of—
Hulk: Shut your fucking mouth and go buy me a double cheeseburger!
Hulk grabs some quarters out of his pocket and places them furiously in Vincent’s hand, who is absolutely confused in what to do.
Vincent: It’s four in the morning, the streets are filled with drug smugglers and lunatics, the shops are closed, where the hell am I going to get a double cheeseburger?
Hulk: You don’t get paid to think about anything, you rat!
Vincent: Umm…Actually, I do, you hired me as your personal advisor.
Hulk: Then just tell me my odds for next week’s match against a pop singer and an omniscient tough son of a gun!
Vincent: Actually, there are other things I’d like to discuss. For example, we’ve got to set up the card for the show in two weeks, you’ve got to choose a secret opponent for Robin…
Hulk: Do you think I’m dumb?
Vincent: Not at all, s—
Hulk: Godfuckingdamnit, don’t interrupt me, no one asked you anything! Anyway, I’ve got a contract with a very special man to face Robin.
Vincent: Who is it then?
Hulk: I don’t know about you, Vincent, but some of us don’t like Juan Carlos Batman. So, let’s just say Robin will be delivered to the wrong hands! Mwahaha!
Hulk Hamster laughs maniacally, and then grabs a huge piece of ham and bites the fuck out of it.
Vincent: Okay, so that’s one less subject we have to handle. Now, about the c—
This time, Vincent isn’t interrupted by Hulk’s silly antics. Instead, he is interrupted when Hulk Hamster starts crying, his face covered by his hands. Vincent feels no sorrow, but his advisor job forces him to console him.
Vincent: Umm…What’s your problem, umm, Hulk?
Hulk: I don’t know what to do, man! I’ve reviewed everything, I’ve gone through all ideas, and I don’t know how the fuck am I going to beat GOD and LADY GAGA! I even did a string of ideas!
Hulk points to one of the walls in the apartment. Vincent turns the lights on and sees a huge paper confusion. Vincent starts reading ideas at random:
“Conspiracy Theory #17
Lady Gaga mentioned God in her song “Born This Way”. Therefore, I assume they have an alliance and will not attack eachother, assaulting me instead.”
“Lady Gaga will use shoulder tackles with her abortion shoulder implants. Defenses: Duck, avoid, jump over, fart and hope the smell drives her away.”
“Alternative #3
To prevent God from winning, tighten the rules to forbid superpowers from being used.”
Vincent looks at all that and laughs silently.
Vincent: So…Why is this corner of your idea web covered with mustard?!
Hulk: Do you think I have any fucking intelligence without a dangerously unhealthy dose of cholesterol through my veins?
Vincent: Okay, but why are you thinking about this match? Why not just go there and do your best?
Hulk thinks for some time, and opens his eyes.
Hulk: You’re RIGHT! I’ll change this behavior of mine.
The scene starts fading to black…
Hulk: What the hell, THIS was our promo? I can’t fucking believe it! Don’t fade out, damn! Who the fuck writes such a downright retarded piece of garbage?
Vincent: You wrote this promo, remember, yesterday morning?
Hulk: What the hell, you remember what happens in the morning? I had four strokes in one particular morning, my memory only works after midday!
Vincent: What the fuck, how is that possible?
Hulk: And I fucking told you, my brain doesn’t work without fat! Why didn’t you listen?
Vincent: You’re only telling me that now—
Hulk: That’s right, interrupting people again, stop listening to me, otherwise you’ll have to interrupt!
Vincent: How can I stop listening you if you’re right here?
Hulk: What am I, a fucking philosopher? How the hell do you think I can know those things?
Vincent: You don’t need—
Hulk: I said, DON’T FUCKING LISTEN TO ME! Sheesh, what a disobedient bastard!
Vincent: Okay…
Hulk: DON’T LISTEN TO ME, BUT PAY ME ATTENTION YOU FUCK FACED PISS ANT!
The scene fully fades to black.
The camera tries to film this little dude, but as he comes close to the building he blocks the camera with his hand and shoves it away. However, our nifty cameraman overcomes the odds by rising back to a stable position. The man is now opening the apartment’s door, and locks it behind him. The cameraman races to the entrance of the building, and forces the door open, which isn’t very hard, considering the goddamn building is on the brink of collapsing.
The camera speeds to the second floor, where the man is opening a door from one of the apartments. Upon noticing the camera’s steady presence, the furious man slams the door shut. However, the cameraman yet again forces the door open, and we arrive to a rather unusual apartment. The huge poster on the wall reads “JOB Wrestling Headquarters”, there’s some widespread shitty furniture, nothing is tidy, and there’s only one light in the entire room, which is from a small table lamp, in a table. In that table, using an oversized, nearly breaking plastic chair, sits the Fatass, the proud owner of JOB Wrestling. The man starts talking, a bit shy.
Man: Umm… Mr., eh…Fatass?
Fatass gets his eyes up from the table, and smirks.
Hulk: Oh, please, Vincent, just call me Hulk Fatass.
Vincent: Okay, Hulk Fatass…
Hulk: WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU CALL ME?!
Vincent (confused): Wait, didn’t you just say you wanted to be called Hulk Fat—
Hulk: How the fuck do you know what I say and what I don’t say?!
Vincent (completely dazzled): You just said it right in front of—
Hulk: Shut your fucking mouth and go buy me a double cheeseburger!
Hulk grabs some quarters out of his pocket and places them furiously in Vincent’s hand, who is absolutely confused in what to do.
Vincent: It’s four in the morning, the streets are filled with drug smugglers and lunatics, the shops are closed, where the hell am I going to get a double cheeseburger?
Hulk: You don’t get paid to think about anything, you rat!
Vincent: Umm…Actually, I do, you hired me as your personal advisor.
Hulk: Then just tell me my odds for next week’s match against a pop singer and an omniscient tough son of a gun!
Vincent: Actually, there are other things I’d like to discuss. For example, we’ve got to set up the card for the show in two weeks, you’ve got to choose a secret opponent for Robin…
Hulk: Do you think I’m dumb?
Vincent: Not at all, s—
Hulk: Godfuckingdamnit, don’t interrupt me, no one asked you anything! Anyway, I’ve got a contract with a very special man to face Robin.
Vincent: Who is it then?
Hulk: I don’t know about you, Vincent, but some of us don’t like Juan Carlos Batman. So, let’s just say Robin will be delivered to the wrong hands! Mwahaha!
Hulk Hamster laughs maniacally, and then grabs a huge piece of ham and bites the fuck out of it.
Vincent: Okay, so that’s one less subject we have to handle. Now, about the c—
This time, Vincent isn’t interrupted by Hulk’s silly antics. Instead, he is interrupted when Hulk Hamster starts crying, his face covered by his hands. Vincent feels no sorrow, but his advisor job forces him to console him.
Vincent: Umm…What’s your problem, umm, Hulk?
Hulk: I don’t know what to do, man! I’ve reviewed everything, I’ve gone through all ideas, and I don’t know how the fuck am I going to beat GOD and LADY GAGA! I even did a string of ideas!
Hulk points to one of the walls in the apartment. Vincent turns the lights on and sees a huge paper confusion. Vincent starts reading ideas at random:
“Conspiracy Theory #17
Lady Gaga mentioned God in her song “Born This Way”. Therefore, I assume they have an alliance and will not attack eachother, assaulting me instead.”
“Lady Gaga will use shoulder tackles with her abortion shoulder implants. Defenses: Duck, avoid, jump over, fart and hope the smell drives her away.”
“Alternative #3
To prevent God from winning, tighten the rules to forbid superpowers from being used.”
Vincent looks at all that and laughs silently.
Vincent: So…Why is this corner of your idea web covered with mustard?!
Hulk: Do you think I have any fucking intelligence without a dangerously unhealthy dose of cholesterol through my veins?
Vincent: Okay, but why are you thinking about this match? Why not just go there and do your best?
Hulk thinks for some time, and opens his eyes.
Hulk: You’re RIGHT! I’ll change this behavior of mine.
The scene starts fading to black…
Hulk: What the hell, THIS was our promo? I can’t fucking believe it! Don’t fade out, damn! Who the fuck writes such a downright retarded piece of garbage?
Vincent: You wrote this promo, remember, yesterday morning?
Hulk: What the hell, you remember what happens in the morning? I had four strokes in one particular morning, my memory only works after midday!
Vincent: What the fuck, how is that possible?
Hulk: And I fucking told you, my brain doesn’t work without fat! Why didn’t you listen?
Vincent: You’re only telling me that now—
Hulk: That’s right, interrupting people again, stop listening to me, otherwise you’ll have to interrupt!
Vincent: How can I stop listening you if you’re right here?
Hulk: What am I, a fucking philosopher? How the hell do you think I can know those things?
Vincent: You don’t need—
Hulk: I said, DON’T FUCKING LISTEN TO ME! Sheesh, what a disobedient bastard!
Vincent: Okay…
Hulk: DON’T LISTEN TO ME, BUT PAY ME ATTENTION YOU FUCK FACED PISS ANT!
The scene fully fades to black.