Post by The Sitcom on Nov 26, 2023 3:40:30 GMT -5
(The Sitcom is looking depressed as he watches the Hollywood sun create beams where his U.S. title should be lying as Natural ICE enters.)
ICE: Sad the McRib is only a limited time Menu item?
Sitcom: I’m fucking pissed off, I lost against Tatiana, I won’t be Wrestler of the Year, and also my girl left me.
ICE: At least you still possess the United States title.
(Sitcom looks annoyed, as ICE remembers Vespertine stole the belt.)
ICE: Er, I mean, who needs your Ex, I know this chick called Annie, she fucks any Pro Wrestler who asks.
(Sitcom looks upset as ICE remembers Annie was Sitcom’s Ex.)
ICE: Er, I mean what you really need is a vacation away from Hollywood!
(Sitcom looks up, somewhat interested in ICE’s idea, when Johnny Beckman enters.)
Johnny: Okay, Sitcom, I laid out the perfect matching outfits for our Friendsgiving Garden party, I really think the silk scarves pull the whole look together.
(Sitcom looks at Johnny...then at ICE.)
Sitcom: What do you have in mind?
ICE: Foam Lake, Northern Wisconsin. My Hometown.
Johnny: We also have those matching blazers- Wait, why did Natural just say Foam Lake?
Sitcom: Because we’re going there tomorrow.
Johnny: NOOOOOO!!!!
Sitcom: Not you, just ICE and me.
Johnny: Oh, Thank God.
---------
(The opening video package starts with a lake surrounded by wood cabins.)
“Welcome friends to Foam Lake, where the men are real, and the boobs aren’t fake.”
(Large men, with thick women, stand in front a pile of dead fish.)
“We like to hunt, we like to fish, we can casserole any dish.”
(A potluck in a church basement is pictured.)
“We have a lake, lined with trees, we’re America’s leader in liver disease.”
(A crowded doctor’s waiting room appears.)
“Cheering for the Pack is a given; we all smell like Pabst Blue Ribbon.”
(A series of images of bars with Packer banners and beer signs.)
“We welcome all, thin or fat; Unless you vote, democrat.”
---------
(ICE and Sitcom enter ICE’s cabin on Foam Lake, and the place is completely trashed.)
Sitcom: Holy Shit! There’s a fucking bear in here!
ICE: Of course there is, he’s leasing my place. But I told him No Partys!
(Bear Growls)
ICE: A baby shower is a party. Besides you knew you’re just going to try to eat those damn cubs anyhow.
(Bear Growls)
Sitcom: Why is growling at me?
ICE: He wants you to agree with him that a baby shower isn’t a party.
Sitcom: Um, was there alcohol served?
(Bear grumbles out a little growl.)
ICE: What?! You tapped into my emergency zombie apocalypse beer stash! That’s it! Get Out!
(The bear grumbles on the way out as ICE grabs the TV remote and Sitcom begins to look around.)
Sitcom: Wow, that bear really trashed this place.
ICE: Oh no, this is what it always looks like; cleaning is for sober people...(watching TV)...damnit, he used up all my DVR space with Berenstein Bear reruns.
Sitcom: Why has the episode titled “Mama Bear buys a bathing suit” been watched 40 times?
ICE: Seems that bear is a sinner...(looking over his bar area)...damnit, he even drank the Mike’s Hard Lemonade I give to the local high school cheerleaders when I’m-
(Sitcom glares at ICE.)
ICE: Tutoring them?
Sitcom: In what subject?
ICE: Sex Education.
Sitcom: That answer isn’t clever enough to work in court.
--------
(ICE and Sitcom enter one of the many, many, local bars.)
ICE: You need to relax, all this wrestling business can stress a guy out, sometimes it’s best to go where everybody knows your name...(addresses the bar regulars)...I’m Back Everyone!!!
(No one reacts in the entire place.)
Sitcom: They seem to have no idea who you are.
ICE: Give them a break, they’ve been drinking since the wall came down.
Sitcom: The Berlin Wall?
ICE: No, that wall...
(ICE points to a missing wall in the bar).
Bar Regular #1: Drinking helps keep us warm.
Sitcom: Why don’t they just fix it?
Bar Regular #2: We’re too drunk to fix it.
ICE: It’s a classic, ‘damn if they do, damned if they don’t’.
Sitcom: Okay...
ICE: No literally, either way, the beavers will damn it up in the spring.
Sitcom: That’s wild.
ICE: No, it’s wildlife.
---------
(ICE and Sitcom are in the woods, dressed head to toe in bright orange hunting gear.)
ICE: Wow, you’re really good at hunting.
Sitcom: All I have done is sit in the woods and drink a 12 pack.
ICE: Like I said, you’re really good at hunting...oh, here comes another turkey!
(ICE uses his turkey call to peacefully lure another turkey into an animal safe trap.)
Sitcom: Wow, I never saw you as a humane hunter.
ICE: I have hunted humans since I retired from wrestling. Well, legally, have you ever been to Dubai?
Sitcom: No, I mean, I never expected you to be so kind to the turkeys.
ICE: I’m not some drugged out alcoholic psycho...now can you pass me that bottle of homemade liquid fentanyl, the demons in my head are starting to stop talking.
(ICE takes a huge pull from the gallon jug.)
ICE: OKAY! TIME TO GO FISHING!!!
----------
(ICE and Sitcom are now on a small fishing boat in the middle of Foam Lake. Sitcom seems a bit confused as there are plenty of other boats on the lake, but no one is holding a fishing pole.)
Sitcom: How are we going to fish without any poles?
ICE: We use our bare hands.
Sitcom: But the fish are so slippery.
ICE: Who said anything about fish?
(Just then a single engine plane flies over the pine tree line as Sitcom looks up to see turkey after turkey being pushed out of the plane!)
Sitcom: Are those the turkeys from hunting?
ICE: It’s a Foam Lake Thanksgiving tradition...Turkey Fishing!
(As the poor birds start splashing into the lake the drunken locals begin to jump off their boats. ICE looks back at Sitcom, removing a huge hunting knife from his teeth.)
ICE: Try to catch a second turkey if you can, I invited the bear and his baby’s mama over for Thanksgiving.
(ICE replaces the knife between his teeth before leaping overboard.)
---------
(ICE and Sitcom are shivering wet, with towels over their shoulders, as they sit on ICE’s dock.)
Sitcom: Sorry, I thought since the first turkey I “fished” out was so skinny-
(The shot pans out to reveal DEE, ICE’s skinny nerd friend, also attempting to dry out on the dock.)
DEE: I kept screaming “Got Me! Got Me!”
Sitcom: I thought he was saying, “Gobble, Gobble.”
ICE: Give him a break, he’s city folk.
DEE: Then I said, “Hey Sitcom! It’s me, Dee!! We’ve met multiple times in the past!”
Sitcom: Well at that point I just thought it was funny, and besides that’s when I saw that fattest turkey ever and grabbed for-
(The camera pans out to show a fourth person on the dock, ICE’s fat friend, PJ.)
PJ: A fat turkey was my ex’s pet name for me.
ICE: What a bitch.
PJ: No, she called me that during our bedtime roleplay nights. I was the turkey, and she was the gravy. I would go, “I’m all dry” and she would go “I’m all wet” and then-
(Sitcom pushes PJ off the dock.)
DEE: Maybe having Sitcom around won’t be all bad.
(Sitcom pushes DEE off the dock.)
ICE: Haha, look how fast their skin is turning blue in the cold water...good times.
----------
(Sitcom and ICE walk back into the cabin to find a cute little bald kid sitting on the couch.)
ICE: Fuck! It’s E.T.!
Sitcom: It’s a kid.
ICE: E.T. was a kid? No wonder he liked candy so much. But this brings up the ethical question about his alien race sending children into space like genie pigs!
Sitcom: No, I am saying, this is literally a child.
ICE: You’ve convinced me, I’m okay with N.A.S.A. shooting orphans into space. It’s what’s best for humanity!
(Sitcom moves on from talking to ICE and moves onto the hairless child.)
Sitcom: Hey, little...Boy? Girl? Thing? Sorry, I’m not very P.C.
Boy: That’s an understatement. For the record, I’m a boy. With cancer. And this is my Make a Wish.
ICE: OH shit, I remember now. Airborne was all like, I’m doing this cynical asshole thing now and he asked me to watch over some gross sick kid.
Boy: Gross sick kid? Now you sound like my stepdad.
Sitcom: We need to do something special for this kid.
(ICE searching through a closet)
ICE: What about 200 hand towels that read the “ICE AGE Cometh”.
Boy: I don’t need a free promotional item from a second-tier federation during Natural ICE Beckman’s failed return to the ring.
ICE: Hey! That federation wasn’t second-tier-...Well, at least my return wasn’t a complete failure-…Well, none the less these hand towels were originally $19.99!!!
--------
(ICE and Sitcom are enjoying a nearly full moon with a nearly empty case of whiskey.)
ICE: Well by now I’ve given you so much advice about your opponent this week you’re probably having trouble digesting it all.
Sitcom: You haven’t talked about my match a single time.
ICE: Well, from the sound of it you're facing a huge badass dude from Japan.
Sitcom: It is actually small skinny woman from South Korea.
ICE: Not South Korea, that’s the pussy side.
Sitcom: What advice do you have for beating skinny bitches?
ICE: I would ask this guy I know named Sitcom; he is always having to fight skinny little women.
Sitcom: I am Sitcom.
(ICE looks Sitcom up and down.)
ICE: Hey, when did you show up? I was just wondering what you do when you face skinny little bitches?
Sitcom: I FUCKING KICK THE SHIT OUT OF THEM!
ICE: Thanks...(ICE looks away, then back to Sitcom)...Hey, I just talked to the Sitcom guy. He said, KICK THE SHIT OUT OF THEM!
Sitcom: Sounds good. (Sitcom’s world begins to spin)...I think I’m Drunk.
ICE: Hey Drunk, have you met my friend Sitcom?
Sitcom: Hi Sitcom. My real name is-
ICE: No. No. Save that shit for like a cool moment, like the end of a promo.
Sitcom: Okay fine, but can I at least drunk text Annie?
ICE: Okay, but you’re only allowed to use the following emojis: peach...eggplant...loudly-crying-face.
----------
(ICE and Sitcom are waiting in line to see the local Mall Santa.)
Sitcom: OH man, I have such a hangover.
ICE: I got those all the time when I first started drinking, but they were usually gone by recess.
(Sitcom rubs his temples as he looks towards the Santa.)
Sitcom: What should I ask Santa for? Annie to come back? Winning my match? A delicious diet drink that doesn’t cause blindness?
ICE: Haven’t you tried Diet Natural ICE Lite?
Sitcom: I said that Didn’t cause blindness.
ICE: Oh, then never mind. Just ask him for something you truly want.
(Sitcom looks at Santa, Santa looks at Sitcom, Sitcom looks at Santa’s lap...Santa gulps as all 400 pounds of your U.S. Champ sits on his jolly red lap.)
Santa: HO-HO-PLEASE GOD NO!
(Sitcom sits on Santa’s lap.)
Sitcom: All I want for Christmas is a World Title Shot.
Santa: Ho-Ho-I Don’t Think SO.
Sitcom: Fine, how about a Tag Title Shot?
Santa: Ho-Ho-you go SOLO?
Sitcom: No, I could always ask...Johnny? No, too old...Airborne? No, too small.
ICE: ME!
Sitcom: Too drunk.
PJ: Me?
Sitcom: Too fat.
DEE: Me?
Sitcom: Too skinny, weak, dorky, annoying-
DEE: Okay, we get it, not me.
ICE: What about Vespertine?
(Everyone starts laughing about the ridiculous idea of Vespertine teaming with Sitcom.)
Sitcom: I mean I am so amazing...and she is so...(laughs and laughs)...awful.
(Santa stops laughing.)
Santa: My legs are completely numb.
(Sitcom remains as everyone but Santa goes back to laughing hysterically.)
----------
(ICE’s Thanksgiving table is full of food, friends and fun.)
ICE: This is the time of the year we all give thanks.
DEE: I’m thankful for being able to feel my extremities again.
(DEE blows into his hands.)
PJ: I’m thankful for my new girlfriend.
(PJ puts his arm around the bear’s ex...the bear growls...the two little cubs grumbling)
PJ: Please little guys, call me Step-Papa Bear.
(PJ gets nipped by the cubs as he reaches towards them for a hug.)
Boy: I’m thankful Jonny Cedrone agreed to be my next Make-a-Wish. He might be boring, be at least he’s nice.
Sitcom: You might want to double check his availability before booking your flight.
Santa: Cuz of what The Sitcom did to me, I’m thankful my H.M.O covers lap reconstruction surgery and will help me find joy again.
Sitcom: I’m thankful I have final editing.
(The promo quickly rewinds.)
Santa: I’m thankful my...(more rewinding)...The Sitcom...(fast-forwarding)...will help me find joy.
Sitcom: You’re Welcome Santa.
ICE: And I am thankful Sitcom has agreed to give me his roster spot.
Sitcom: I didn’t agree to that.
Johnny: I’m thankful to be taking Sitcom back to California for Turmoil.
Sitcom: Johnny? Where did you come from?
Johnny: Who cares. Ready to go home?
(Sitcom looks around briefly, before quickly following Johnny towards the nearest exit.)
ICE: Um.....FOOD FIGHT!!!
(Thanksgiving food favorites fly around the room as the scene fades out.)
---------
ICE: Sad the McRib is only a limited time Menu item?
Sitcom: I’m fucking pissed off, I lost against Tatiana, I won’t be Wrestler of the Year, and also my girl left me.
ICE: At least you still possess the United States title.
(Sitcom looks annoyed, as ICE remembers Vespertine stole the belt.)
ICE: Er, I mean, who needs your Ex, I know this chick called Annie, she fucks any Pro Wrestler who asks.
(Sitcom looks upset as ICE remembers Annie was Sitcom’s Ex.)
ICE: Er, I mean what you really need is a vacation away from Hollywood!
(Sitcom looks up, somewhat interested in ICE’s idea, when Johnny Beckman enters.)
Johnny: Okay, Sitcom, I laid out the perfect matching outfits for our Friendsgiving Garden party, I really think the silk scarves pull the whole look together.
(Sitcom looks at Johnny...then at ICE.)
Sitcom: What do you have in mind?
ICE: Foam Lake, Northern Wisconsin. My Hometown.
Johnny: We also have those matching blazers- Wait, why did Natural just say Foam Lake?
Sitcom: Because we’re going there tomorrow.
Johnny: NOOOOOO!!!!
Sitcom: Not you, just ICE and me.
Johnny: Oh, Thank God.
---------
(The opening video package starts with a lake surrounded by wood cabins.)
“Welcome friends to Foam Lake, where the men are real, and the boobs aren’t fake.”
(Large men, with thick women, stand in front a pile of dead fish.)
“We like to hunt, we like to fish, we can casserole any dish.”
(A potluck in a church basement is pictured.)
“We have a lake, lined with trees, we’re America’s leader in liver disease.”
(A crowded doctor’s waiting room appears.)
“Cheering for the Pack is a given; we all smell like Pabst Blue Ribbon.”
(A series of images of bars with Packer banners and beer signs.)
“We welcome all, thin or fat; Unless you vote, democrat.”
---------
(ICE and Sitcom enter ICE’s cabin on Foam Lake, and the place is completely trashed.)
Sitcom: Holy Shit! There’s a fucking bear in here!
ICE: Of course there is, he’s leasing my place. But I told him No Partys!
(Bear Growls)
ICE: A baby shower is a party. Besides you knew you’re just going to try to eat those damn cubs anyhow.
(Bear Growls)
Sitcom: Why is growling at me?
ICE: He wants you to agree with him that a baby shower isn’t a party.
Sitcom: Um, was there alcohol served?
(Bear grumbles out a little growl.)
ICE: What?! You tapped into my emergency zombie apocalypse beer stash! That’s it! Get Out!
(The bear grumbles on the way out as ICE grabs the TV remote and Sitcom begins to look around.)
Sitcom: Wow, that bear really trashed this place.
ICE: Oh no, this is what it always looks like; cleaning is for sober people...(watching TV)...damnit, he used up all my DVR space with Berenstein Bear reruns.
Sitcom: Why has the episode titled “Mama Bear buys a bathing suit” been watched 40 times?
ICE: Seems that bear is a sinner...(looking over his bar area)...damnit, he even drank the Mike’s Hard Lemonade I give to the local high school cheerleaders when I’m-
(Sitcom glares at ICE.)
ICE: Tutoring them?
Sitcom: In what subject?
ICE: Sex Education.
Sitcom: That answer isn’t clever enough to work in court.
--------
(ICE and Sitcom enter one of the many, many, local bars.)
ICE: You need to relax, all this wrestling business can stress a guy out, sometimes it’s best to go where everybody knows your name...(addresses the bar regulars)...I’m Back Everyone!!!
(No one reacts in the entire place.)
Sitcom: They seem to have no idea who you are.
ICE: Give them a break, they’ve been drinking since the wall came down.
Sitcom: The Berlin Wall?
ICE: No, that wall...
(ICE points to a missing wall in the bar).
Bar Regular #1: Drinking helps keep us warm.
Sitcom: Why don’t they just fix it?
Bar Regular #2: We’re too drunk to fix it.
ICE: It’s a classic, ‘damn if they do, damned if they don’t’.
Sitcom: Okay...
ICE: No literally, either way, the beavers will damn it up in the spring.
Sitcom: That’s wild.
ICE: No, it’s wildlife.
---------
(ICE and Sitcom are in the woods, dressed head to toe in bright orange hunting gear.)
ICE: Wow, you’re really good at hunting.
Sitcom: All I have done is sit in the woods and drink a 12 pack.
ICE: Like I said, you’re really good at hunting...oh, here comes another turkey!
(ICE uses his turkey call to peacefully lure another turkey into an animal safe trap.)
Sitcom: Wow, I never saw you as a humane hunter.
ICE: I have hunted humans since I retired from wrestling. Well, legally, have you ever been to Dubai?
Sitcom: No, I mean, I never expected you to be so kind to the turkeys.
ICE: I’m not some drugged out alcoholic psycho...now can you pass me that bottle of homemade liquid fentanyl, the demons in my head are starting to stop talking.
(ICE takes a huge pull from the gallon jug.)
ICE: OKAY! TIME TO GO FISHING!!!
----------
(ICE and Sitcom are now on a small fishing boat in the middle of Foam Lake. Sitcom seems a bit confused as there are plenty of other boats on the lake, but no one is holding a fishing pole.)
Sitcom: How are we going to fish without any poles?
ICE: We use our bare hands.
Sitcom: But the fish are so slippery.
ICE: Who said anything about fish?
(Just then a single engine plane flies over the pine tree line as Sitcom looks up to see turkey after turkey being pushed out of the plane!)
Sitcom: Are those the turkeys from hunting?
ICE: It’s a Foam Lake Thanksgiving tradition...Turkey Fishing!
(As the poor birds start splashing into the lake the drunken locals begin to jump off their boats. ICE looks back at Sitcom, removing a huge hunting knife from his teeth.)
ICE: Try to catch a second turkey if you can, I invited the bear and his baby’s mama over for Thanksgiving.
(ICE replaces the knife between his teeth before leaping overboard.)
---------
(ICE and Sitcom are shivering wet, with towels over their shoulders, as they sit on ICE’s dock.)
Sitcom: Sorry, I thought since the first turkey I “fished” out was so skinny-
(The shot pans out to reveal DEE, ICE’s skinny nerd friend, also attempting to dry out on the dock.)
DEE: I kept screaming “Got Me! Got Me!”
Sitcom: I thought he was saying, “Gobble, Gobble.”
ICE: Give him a break, he’s city folk.
DEE: Then I said, “Hey Sitcom! It’s me, Dee!! We’ve met multiple times in the past!”
Sitcom: Well at that point I just thought it was funny, and besides that’s when I saw that fattest turkey ever and grabbed for-
(The camera pans out to show a fourth person on the dock, ICE’s fat friend, PJ.)
PJ: A fat turkey was my ex’s pet name for me.
ICE: What a bitch.
PJ: No, she called me that during our bedtime roleplay nights. I was the turkey, and she was the gravy. I would go, “I’m all dry” and she would go “I’m all wet” and then-
(Sitcom pushes PJ off the dock.)
DEE: Maybe having Sitcom around won’t be all bad.
(Sitcom pushes DEE off the dock.)
ICE: Haha, look how fast their skin is turning blue in the cold water...good times.
----------
(Sitcom and ICE walk back into the cabin to find a cute little bald kid sitting on the couch.)
ICE: Fuck! It’s E.T.!
Sitcom: It’s a kid.
ICE: E.T. was a kid? No wonder he liked candy so much. But this brings up the ethical question about his alien race sending children into space like genie pigs!
Sitcom: No, I am saying, this is literally a child.
ICE: You’ve convinced me, I’m okay with N.A.S.A. shooting orphans into space. It’s what’s best for humanity!
(Sitcom moves on from talking to ICE and moves onto the hairless child.)
Sitcom: Hey, little...Boy? Girl? Thing? Sorry, I’m not very P.C.
Boy: That’s an understatement. For the record, I’m a boy. With cancer. And this is my Make a Wish.
ICE: OH shit, I remember now. Airborne was all like, I’m doing this cynical asshole thing now and he asked me to watch over some gross sick kid.
Boy: Gross sick kid? Now you sound like my stepdad.
Sitcom: We need to do something special for this kid.
(ICE searching through a closet)
ICE: What about 200 hand towels that read the “ICE AGE Cometh”.
Boy: I don’t need a free promotional item from a second-tier federation during Natural ICE Beckman’s failed return to the ring.
ICE: Hey! That federation wasn’t second-tier-...Well, at least my return wasn’t a complete failure-…Well, none the less these hand towels were originally $19.99!!!
--------
(ICE and Sitcom are enjoying a nearly full moon with a nearly empty case of whiskey.)
ICE: Well by now I’ve given you so much advice about your opponent this week you’re probably having trouble digesting it all.
Sitcom: You haven’t talked about my match a single time.
ICE: Well, from the sound of it you're facing a huge badass dude from Japan.
Sitcom: It is actually small skinny woman from South Korea.
ICE: Not South Korea, that’s the pussy side.
Sitcom: What advice do you have for beating skinny bitches?
ICE: I would ask this guy I know named Sitcom; he is always having to fight skinny little women.
Sitcom: I am Sitcom.
(ICE looks Sitcom up and down.)
ICE: Hey, when did you show up? I was just wondering what you do when you face skinny little bitches?
Sitcom: I FUCKING KICK THE SHIT OUT OF THEM!
ICE: Thanks...(ICE looks away, then back to Sitcom)...Hey, I just talked to the Sitcom guy. He said, KICK THE SHIT OUT OF THEM!
Sitcom: Sounds good. (Sitcom’s world begins to spin)...I think I’m Drunk.
ICE: Hey Drunk, have you met my friend Sitcom?
Sitcom: Hi Sitcom. My real name is-
ICE: No. No. Save that shit for like a cool moment, like the end of a promo.
Sitcom: Okay fine, but can I at least drunk text Annie?
ICE: Okay, but you’re only allowed to use the following emojis: peach...eggplant...loudly-crying-face.
----------
(ICE and Sitcom are waiting in line to see the local Mall Santa.)
Sitcom: OH man, I have such a hangover.
ICE: I got those all the time when I first started drinking, but they were usually gone by recess.
(Sitcom rubs his temples as he looks towards the Santa.)
Sitcom: What should I ask Santa for? Annie to come back? Winning my match? A delicious diet drink that doesn’t cause blindness?
ICE: Haven’t you tried Diet Natural ICE Lite?
Sitcom: I said that Didn’t cause blindness.
ICE: Oh, then never mind. Just ask him for something you truly want.
(Sitcom looks at Santa, Santa looks at Sitcom, Sitcom looks at Santa’s lap...Santa gulps as all 400 pounds of your U.S. Champ sits on his jolly red lap.)
Santa: HO-HO-PLEASE GOD NO!
(Sitcom sits on Santa’s lap.)
Sitcom: All I want for Christmas is a World Title Shot.
Santa: Ho-Ho-I Don’t Think SO.
Sitcom: Fine, how about a Tag Title Shot?
Santa: Ho-Ho-you go SOLO?
Sitcom: No, I could always ask...Johnny? No, too old...Airborne? No, too small.
ICE: ME!
Sitcom: Too drunk.
PJ: Me?
Sitcom: Too fat.
DEE: Me?
Sitcom: Too skinny, weak, dorky, annoying-
DEE: Okay, we get it, not me.
ICE: What about Vespertine?
(Everyone starts laughing about the ridiculous idea of Vespertine teaming with Sitcom.)
Sitcom: I mean I am so amazing...and she is so...(laughs and laughs)...awful.
(Santa stops laughing.)
Santa: My legs are completely numb.
(Sitcom remains as everyone but Santa goes back to laughing hysterically.)
----------
(ICE’s Thanksgiving table is full of food, friends and fun.)
ICE: This is the time of the year we all give thanks.
DEE: I’m thankful for being able to feel my extremities again.
(DEE blows into his hands.)
PJ: I’m thankful for my new girlfriend.
(PJ puts his arm around the bear’s ex...the bear growls...the two little cubs grumbling)
PJ: Please little guys, call me Step-Papa Bear.
(PJ gets nipped by the cubs as he reaches towards them for a hug.)
Boy: I’m thankful Jonny Cedrone agreed to be my next Make-a-Wish. He might be boring, be at least he’s nice.
Sitcom: You might want to double check his availability before booking your flight.
Santa: Cuz of what The Sitcom did to me, I’m thankful my H.M.O covers lap reconstruction surgery and will help me find joy again.
Sitcom: I’m thankful I have final editing.
(The promo quickly rewinds.)
Santa: I’m thankful my...(more rewinding)...The Sitcom...(fast-forwarding)...will help me find joy.
Sitcom: You’re Welcome Santa.
ICE: And I am thankful Sitcom has agreed to give me his roster spot.
Sitcom: I didn’t agree to that.
Johnny: I’m thankful to be taking Sitcom back to California for Turmoil.
Sitcom: Johnny? Where did you come from?
Johnny: Who cares. Ready to go home?
(Sitcom looks around briefly, before quickly following Johnny towards the nearest exit.)
ICE: Um.....FOOD FIGHT!!!
(Thanksgiving food favorites fly around the room as the scene fades out.)
---------
Well, newbie, you got your way. You used the low road to get to the high point in your career. So take a moment and give yourself a round of applause, hell, I’ll even join you...
(Sitcom slowly claps three times.)
Your little plan, while uncreative and dull, worked. You’ve stolen yourself a shot at the title I made famous. Congratulations, enjoy this moment, because from here on out it’s nothing but pain.
Let’s start with the fun stuff, the petty stuff. Like for example your name, it sounds like the name of a shitty hatchback from the 70’s. “Drive the all new Vespertine, where your minimal budget meets cheap Korean engineering”. Or your rehashed “dancing with the dark side” gimmick. Straight out of the bargain bin at Spirit Halloween. I never understood the whole devil mastermind using the mindless goof to do his dirty work. I mean what does either side even get out of it? The mastermind gets the underling to bring him treasures and glory, which sounds good to your average Joe who knows how to have a good time, but all these masterminds do is ramble from the shadows about things they’ve plagiarized from a dungeons and dragons magazine. I don’t know what would scare them more, a 60 watt light bulb or an intelligent conversation.
So we got this unlovable, pathetic, underserving, sad, mindless goof who is more than willing to trade away all her free will for what? An occasional talking down? Free room and board in the mastermind’s crawl space?
Also, I’m just wondering what exactly you do for your master besides bringing him stolen United States title. Pick up his dry cleaning? Walk his dog? Please tell me there isn’t a sponge bath night.
Or is this relationship more of a mystical mind control thing? Which would be great news for me, because then you’ve already been broken mentally, and I can just focus on extinguishing your spirit and squashing your body.
Speaking of extinguishing your spirit, let’s move on to the personal shit. The moment you stole my belt was not only the moment I learned you existed but the moment you learned you wouldn’t be existing much longer.
And I get it, when you thought it through you saw two ways to the top. The hard way, showing up every week, putting in the time, earning your spot via wins and triumphs, practically redefining what it means to be a champion. Like I did.
Or the easy way, by pulling a some lamé brain stunt that comes with silent and confused fans and plenty of awkward glares from the wrestlers in the back. Like you did. (Around here we call that ‘pulling a Dake Jr.’)
Now here is the ironic part about taking the easy way, by the end, it hurts way more than the hard way. The easy way might deliver a few bright lights, but when those lights go out…they go way out. With no story worthy of a hall of fame ending. No diehard fans waiting in long lines for your autograph despite the fact you traded in your boots for a walker ages ago. Just you, alone, with nothing but self-pity and regrets.
And you know all about the demons associated with self-pity and regrets, don’t you? It can cause a seemingly normal loser to think they once “died” and act like they’ve been “reborn” just to escape a past riddled with so much embarrassment that delusional seems sensible.
Because, Kimber, I hate you. You’re a cancerous bump threatening to kill the federation I saved. You swooped with confusion as your costume and an elementary approach to entertainment. I hate that your cravenly act has been rewarded. I hate hearing you speak words meant for heroes with the inflection of a coward. I hate that instead of fighting against a rival, I’m forced to face a cauliflower substitute challenger like you.
Simply put…your gimmick is stale, your game plan is telegraphed, and even you hate you.
So enjoy losing to me at Turmoil; because not only will it be your greatest achievement in Action Wrestling, but it I promise to chokeslam you back to Hell, giving a second- I mean Third chance at a new life.
(Sitcom laughs at the idea of her fictional backstory.)
…and might I suggest trying the next go around as a toilet brush; you seem to have all the necessary qualities to eat shit over and over.
(And just as Sitcom is about to let the video fade away, a single soft female’s voice speak’s up...)
Hello?
Annie? Are you back?
I am back...Thomas.