Banned NATE Higher Ground Segment
Apr 20, 2020 16:54:28 GMT -5
The Papa John's Pizza Man, Karlie Nash, and 1 more like this
Post by NATE on Apr 20, 2020 16:54:28 GMT -5
The following content is intended only for those 18+ and deemed criminally insane...
The Eureka fans are restless waiting for the next match or segment during the commercial break. A "THIS IS DOPE" chant starts. It is interrupted as the lights flash on and off and a large unidentified flying object descends from the rafters. A variation on "The X-Files" by Mark Snow accompanies this strange sight.
Chris Avery: This can only be one man, err... lifeform...
Billy: AlieNATE!
As it hovers a few feet above the ring, the space craft opens. AlieNATE falls to the mat in a heap. Traw Ma walks out through the entranceway to many a wolf whistle. She enters the ring, flashing flawless legs that seem to stretch a mile, and takes a mic confidently.
Traw Ma: You wacky baccy numbskulls probably know no better as your pathetic lives are nothing more than hazy tragedies... but this is an AlieNATE invasion! HE'S HERE!
He gets up and towers over her; slobbering into the mic.
AlieNATE: Tayke Mi 2 Ur Lida.
Chris Avery: Translation for you all - he said "take me to your leader".
Billy: Really? I heard "Torture #MeToo y'all he durrrh".
Chris Avery: Makes more sense than NATE just made.
There's some commotion in the crowd. Someone is crowd surfing his way to ringside. He is a rotund, short Indian man with dreadlocks. Even Snoop Lion endorses him with a tip of the spliff and casual nod.
Billy: Who is this guy? These people are treating him like a deity.
Chris Avery: He must be their "lida". I think I recognise him.
The man staggers into the ring. He has a big old fat blunt hanging from his lips and is stoned out of his mind.
Traw Ma: You? You're the leader here? Who in the hell do you think you are?
She offers him the mic but he is too far gone to take it. She is forced to hold it up by his mouth.
"Lida": Wahh gwan. Mi name is that neguse negest, Rastarfarian Farquaad.
Chris Avery: That's where I recognise him from. He's AW jobber Farquaad "Friendly" Fire.
Billy: I thought he died.
Chris Avery: Evidently not. He just went from a Brummie to a Rasta drug lord.
Farquaad, at snail's pace, offers a toke to NATE.
Traw Ma: OH NO YOU DO NOT! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?
AlieNATE: Wutz Dis I Neva Tryde Itt B 4
NATE takes it and sucks on it hard. He turns from alien green to a very sick looking blue.
AlieNATE: He's still out there. You need to find him before he ruins more lives! Please... he could have others down there wasting away. Fading...
Traw Ma slaps him silly. Normal colour resumes.
AlieNATE: Wooowe Dat Wuz Da Gud Sheet
Farquaad snatches his joint back. It is sucked dry. His chill demeanour takes a sudden nasty turn.
Farquaad: Ya thiefin' all mah ganja maan. Mi bun a fyah pan NATE.
Farquaad beats the shit out of him. NATE drops like bricks. Traw Ma tries to pull Farquaad off but fails. The Rasta king sails off into the night on a sea of gathered bodies.
Billy: I think AlieNATE has been extermiNATEd.
Suddenly, NATE rises to his feet; donning a giant costume in the progress.
Traw Ma: AlieNATE is dead. All hail... MaNATEe!
Traw Ma: Behold, your 2020 Havoc Rumble winner! Even if he has to enter as 60 different IncarNATEions!
Chris Avery: Somewhere #BeachKrew are rolling in their watery graves.
MaNATEe dances euphorically; clearly still vibin' off that Mary Jane.
Billy: Every faculty feels like it's been violated with a cat's penis.
Chris Avery: Save us please. Another Arby's commercial. Lamb tacos. Anything! Come back Johnny Stylez for fuck's sake.
This hell fades to a smoky black.
The Eureka fans are restless waiting for the next match or segment during the commercial break. A "THIS IS DOPE" chant starts. It is interrupted as the lights flash on and off and a large unidentified flying object descends from the rafters. A variation on "The X-Files" by Mark Snow accompanies this strange sight.
Chris Avery: This can only be one man, err... lifeform...
Billy: AlieNATE!
As it hovers a few feet above the ring, the space craft opens. AlieNATE falls to the mat in a heap. Traw Ma walks out through the entranceway to many a wolf whistle. She enters the ring, flashing flawless legs that seem to stretch a mile, and takes a mic confidently.
Traw Ma: You wacky baccy numbskulls probably know no better as your pathetic lives are nothing more than hazy tragedies... but this is an AlieNATE invasion! HE'S HERE!
He gets up and towers over her; slobbering into the mic.
AlieNATE: Tayke Mi 2 Ur Lida.
Chris Avery: Translation for you all - he said "take me to your leader".
Billy: Really? I heard "Torture #MeToo y'all he durrrh".
Chris Avery: Makes more sense than NATE just made.
There's some commotion in the crowd. Someone is crowd surfing his way to ringside. He is a rotund, short Indian man with dreadlocks. Even Snoop Lion endorses him with a tip of the spliff and casual nod.
Billy: Who is this guy? These people are treating him like a deity.
Chris Avery: He must be their "lida". I think I recognise him.
The man staggers into the ring. He has a big old fat blunt hanging from his lips and is stoned out of his mind.
Traw Ma: You? You're the leader here? Who in the hell do you think you are?
She offers him the mic but he is too far gone to take it. She is forced to hold it up by his mouth.
"Lida": Wahh gwan. Mi name is that neguse negest, Rastarfarian Farquaad.
Chris Avery: That's where I recognise him from. He's AW jobber Farquaad "Friendly" Fire.
Billy: I thought he died.
Chris Avery: Evidently not. He just went from a Brummie to a Rasta drug lord.
Farquaad, at snail's pace, offers a toke to NATE.
Traw Ma: OH NO YOU DO NOT! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?
AlieNATE: Wutz Dis I Neva Tryde Itt B 4
NATE takes it and sucks on it hard. He turns from alien green to a very sick looking blue.
AlieNATE: He's still out there. You need to find him before he ruins more lives! Please... he could have others down there wasting away. Fading...
Traw Ma slaps him silly. Normal colour resumes.
AlieNATE: Wooowe Dat Wuz Da Gud Sheet
Farquaad snatches his joint back. It is sucked dry. His chill demeanour takes a sudden nasty turn.
Farquaad: Ya thiefin' all mah ganja maan. Mi bun a fyah pan NATE.
Farquaad beats the shit out of him. NATE drops like bricks. Traw Ma tries to pull Farquaad off but fails. The Rasta king sails off into the night on a sea of gathered bodies.
Billy: I think AlieNATE has been extermiNATEd.
Suddenly, NATE rises to his feet; donning a giant costume in the progress.
Traw Ma: AlieNATE is dead. All hail... MaNATEe!
Traw Ma: Behold, your 2020 Havoc Rumble winner! Even if he has to enter as 60 different IncarNATEions!
Chris Avery: Somewhere #BeachKrew are rolling in their watery graves.
MaNATEe dances euphorically; clearly still vibin' off that Mary Jane.
Billy: Every faculty feels like it's been violated with a cat's penis.
Chris Avery: Save us please. Another Arby's commercial. Lamb tacos. Anything! Come back Johnny Stylez for fuck's sake.
This hell fades to a smoky black.