Post by Bugz? on Aug 1, 2019 18:59:03 GMT -5
A rectangular package arrives at XHW headquarters, crudely wrapped in what appears to be torn up pages of an old, possibly used issue of Hustler Magazine held together by duct tape which seems to have been applied in a hurry and with an absolute lack of finesse. The package is opened (by an intern, after several minutes of argument and a trip to the custodian's closet to find a pair of gloves) to reveal a beaten up VHS, the words "PLAY ME" sloppily applied in black Sharpie on yet another piece of tape across the top of the VHS. After fast-forwarding through two and a half episodes of King of the Hill, complete with commercials, the video jump cuts. A pair of bloodshot green eyes stare directly into the screen, separated by a tuft of dirty white fur.
"Yo, this thing work?"
The question, asked to no one in particular, hangs in the air unanswered as Bugz stands up, still directly in front of the camera. His Dwarves drummer girl t-shirt and leather jacket quickly move out of view, replaced by his crotch, clad in a pair of black women's underwear with the word "SPOOKY" written across them in a cute novelty Halloween font. He turns around, then walks away, revealing that rather than standing he is slightly hunched over, and as he gains distance from the camera the field of view widens to reveal the inside of a cargo van, decorated with a dirty old mattress on the floor and a variety of empty cans and bottles that clink as Bugz kicks them out of the way, turning to face the camera.
"So get this. Used to be I'd drive town to town and get in fights in s****y little gymnasiums and rec centers and stuff like that. Barbed wire, chairs, the occasional fire. A ladder here, a baseball bat there. Even had a Taipei dildo deathmatch one time. It's like a regular Taipei deathmatch, only instead of wrappin' yer hands in tape and stickin' 'em in glue and rollin' 'em in glass ya' take a dildo and...look, nevermind, it aint important right now. So anyways, I'm nearly killin' and dyin' every night, and I'm doin' it all for a...a...uh...a hotdog and a handjob, y'know? And then one night after a show, these suits come up to me, and y'know what they tell me? They tell me..."
Bugz changes his voice, badly emulating the intonation of a stuffy office worker.
"Hey, you wanna' do this on TV?"
He then switches back to his regular voice, switching back and forth as he recounts his story.
"And I said, uh, 'not really.' And they say 'well, we'll pay ya'. And I was like, 'cool whateva I guess. Do I gotta' buy boots and tights?' And they were like 'no.' And I says to 'em, I says 'okay, do I gotta' learn to wrestle good or can I still hit people with chairs and s**t' and they were all 'we'll talk about it' and anyway, I signed some papers and they gave me this."
At this point Bugz reaches into his underwear, producing a crumpled up check, which he hurridly uncrumples and holds in front of himself, approaching the camera and holding the check against it.
"They cut me this check for ten grand. Which is cool i guess, 'cept I don't really f**k with banks and stuff. I was kinda' hopin' for a big bag of money like the Monopoly dude, but whateva'. We can figure that out later."
He crumples the check again, stuffing it back down the front of his underwear, then leans forward so that his face takes up the entire frame.
"So now here I am, about to debut for LXW, and right away they throw me to the wolves. Except the wolves are a five mystery opponents and a coupla' dorks in stupid facepaint and masks goin' by fake one word names."
Bugz continues his rant, seemingly oblivious to the irony of his statement.
"Now, I aint scared of no mystery opponents. I've shown up and had no idea who I gotta' fight plenty of times, so that aint nothin' new to me. So that just leaves me with some Juggalo lookin' guy, Buttchin, some nobody in a Party City lucha mask and...Hell, I don't even know what's goin' on with Nitro, but he looks like what you'd find at the bottom of one of those little metal boxes ya' throw used tampons in at a gas station bathroom. So, Juggalo? I've kicked the s**t outta' hundreds of 'em, and they oughta' stay in mom's backyard, 'cause they ain't got what it takes in a real fight. Buttchin I might have to worry about on accounta' his face looks like his a** opened up a franchise location, so he's probably pretty mad about that and angry dudes can throw a mean punch. Party City lucha I'm gonna' try to stay away from. I don't like the way that cheap Halloween costume material feels, so hopefully one of the mystery guys can deal with him. Whateva'. I don't care. Oh yeah, and the tampon guy. Normally I'd make some kinda' tough guy threat. Somethin' like...uh...I dunno', ya'know...like I'm gonna' stomp his face until there's nothin' left but a puddle of blood, but like...hey, I mean...if I did that it's not like you could tell. So."
Bugz pauses for a moment, rubbing his eyes with a leather jacket clad forearm before resuming his rant.
"Anyway, I gotta' fight nine other guys over a belt I don't want and ain't even gonna' use, 'cause it's not like I wear pants. I don't like 'em. But I like fights, and I like winnin' fights, so I guess I'm gonna' be sendin' some jobbers down to Albuquerque. Anyway, I'm done. I gotta' take a p***."
The video suddenly cuts off before transitioning into the beginning of an episode of The Simpsons. The VHS is ejected, and it's quickly agreed the footage will never be aired.
"Yo, this thing work?"
The question, asked to no one in particular, hangs in the air unanswered as Bugz stands up, still directly in front of the camera. His Dwarves drummer girl t-shirt and leather jacket quickly move out of view, replaced by his crotch, clad in a pair of black women's underwear with the word "SPOOKY" written across them in a cute novelty Halloween font. He turns around, then walks away, revealing that rather than standing he is slightly hunched over, and as he gains distance from the camera the field of view widens to reveal the inside of a cargo van, decorated with a dirty old mattress on the floor and a variety of empty cans and bottles that clink as Bugz kicks them out of the way, turning to face the camera.
"So get this. Used to be I'd drive town to town and get in fights in s****y little gymnasiums and rec centers and stuff like that. Barbed wire, chairs, the occasional fire. A ladder here, a baseball bat there. Even had a Taipei dildo deathmatch one time. It's like a regular Taipei deathmatch, only instead of wrappin' yer hands in tape and stickin' 'em in glue and rollin' 'em in glass ya' take a dildo and...look, nevermind, it aint important right now. So anyways, I'm nearly killin' and dyin' every night, and I'm doin' it all for a...a...uh...a hotdog and a handjob, y'know? And then one night after a show, these suits come up to me, and y'know what they tell me? They tell me..."
Bugz changes his voice, badly emulating the intonation of a stuffy office worker.
"Hey, you wanna' do this on TV?"
He then switches back to his regular voice, switching back and forth as he recounts his story.
"And I said, uh, 'not really.' And they say 'well, we'll pay ya'. And I was like, 'cool whateva I guess. Do I gotta' buy boots and tights?' And they were like 'no.' And I says to 'em, I says 'okay, do I gotta' learn to wrestle good or can I still hit people with chairs and s**t' and they were all 'we'll talk about it' and anyway, I signed some papers and they gave me this."
At this point Bugz reaches into his underwear, producing a crumpled up check, which he hurridly uncrumples and holds in front of himself, approaching the camera and holding the check against it.
"They cut me this check for ten grand. Which is cool i guess, 'cept I don't really f**k with banks and stuff. I was kinda' hopin' for a big bag of money like the Monopoly dude, but whateva'. We can figure that out later."
He crumples the check again, stuffing it back down the front of his underwear, then leans forward so that his face takes up the entire frame.
"So now here I am, about to debut for LXW, and right away they throw me to the wolves. Except the wolves are a five mystery opponents and a coupla' dorks in stupid facepaint and masks goin' by fake one word names."
Bugz continues his rant, seemingly oblivious to the irony of his statement.
"Now, I aint scared of no mystery opponents. I've shown up and had no idea who I gotta' fight plenty of times, so that aint nothin' new to me. So that just leaves me with some Juggalo lookin' guy, Buttchin, some nobody in a Party City lucha mask and...Hell, I don't even know what's goin' on with Nitro, but he looks like what you'd find at the bottom of one of those little metal boxes ya' throw used tampons in at a gas station bathroom. So, Juggalo? I've kicked the s**t outta' hundreds of 'em, and they oughta' stay in mom's backyard, 'cause they ain't got what it takes in a real fight. Buttchin I might have to worry about on accounta' his face looks like his a** opened up a franchise location, so he's probably pretty mad about that and angry dudes can throw a mean punch. Party City lucha I'm gonna' try to stay away from. I don't like the way that cheap Halloween costume material feels, so hopefully one of the mystery guys can deal with him. Whateva'. I don't care. Oh yeah, and the tampon guy. Normally I'd make some kinda' tough guy threat. Somethin' like...uh...I dunno', ya'know...like I'm gonna' stomp his face until there's nothin' left but a puddle of blood, but like...hey, I mean...if I did that it's not like you could tell. So."
Bugz pauses for a moment, rubbing his eyes with a leather jacket clad forearm before resuming his rant.
"Anyway, I gotta' fight nine other guys over a belt I don't want and ain't even gonna' use, 'cause it's not like I wear pants. I don't like 'em. But I like fights, and I like winnin' fights, so I guess I'm gonna' be sendin' some jobbers down to Albuquerque. Anyway, I'm done. I gotta' take a p***."
The video suddenly cuts off before transitioning into the beginning of an episode of The Simpsons. The VHS is ejected, and it's quickly agreed the footage will never be aired.
