Post by Union Jack on Sept 9, 2021 10:11:40 GMT -5
Union Jack stares blankly at the camera, his eyes wide and unblinking. The room, unadorned by any personal affects or artefacts of note.... except that is, from a framed photograph of Mr. Burns sat behind his desk, scowling, with his hands steepled below his chin. Someone as used what appears to be Biro pen to draw a childlike scribble of a blue beard on the cartoon character and signed the photo 'DoNz@g'. Jack is motionless, save for a small tremble from his upper lip where he fights to hold back a smirk. He is wearing his signature Bear mask, like any good masked wrestler should, a blue full cover tracksuit jacket with matching bottoms.
"Greetings my fellow competitors. This is an approved and serious, original message brought to you by me, Union Jack!” Jack pauses for an applause that doesn't come. “Please forgive my unusual attire, I'd hate for any accidental nudity to occur... although it seems at least one of you is eagerly anticipating another appearance of Lil' Jack."
“You called?” Lil MC interrupts as he walks into frame. A length of string hangs around the little Bear's neck, suspended from it is a black “CENSORED” sign, hung precariously over his little floppy rubber penis, though the tinkling of it's bell reassures us that it is indeed 'presented'. Jack stops and speaks to his lil friend.
“No dude, there's no place for you here.” Jack answered sympathetically.
“What... Seriously?” MC blinks as he tries to hold back the tears.
“'fraid so.” Jack nods. “I'm assuming you're who Ol' Original Tomm was talkin' about when he said 'Dildo Bear' because, well... You know” Jack gestures his head toward Lil' MC's new sign.
“But... How can he call that a Dildo?” MC asks incredulously “It's not even hard!”
“I know!” Jack shrugs. “Perhaps he's had that problem for so long he thinks that's just how they are supposed to look?”
“Well..” MC's head hangs, dejected and limp, like Donzig's... Ya know. “I guess I'll go.”
Jack watches MC walk away, sighs sadly and turns back to the Camera.
“Now, where was... Ah!” Jack holds one finger aloft triumphantly and grins. "That's right! Donzig! You sit and preach about originality, while spewing rage, condemnation and catchphrases like an eighties nostalgia act, Brother! Tell me, have you ever looked into the cause of your 'uncontrollable' anger? A quick Google tells me that many things can trigger anger, ranging from alcoholism and depression, right on down to stress, family problems and financial issues... and when we consider you as a person, financial issues seems the most likely cause, seeing as you retired and then came crawling back to an industry that didn't notice you'd left... of course, that doesn't explain the facial hair which looks like a brillo pad that's been dropped in the hair trap of a Tyneside Gym's shower room on 'Manscaping Monday', and the only explanation for that abomination is a rampant drink problem. And I know, I know, that's another reference you don't understand, but if we limit ourselves and our vocabulary to what you do understand, we would have to repeat "I Are Win" 333.33 recurring times, while angrily stomping around our locker room like a red bottomed cartoon character being observed by his condescending friend."
Jack shrugs in a 'Damned if ya do, damned if ya don't' gesture and continues.
"But, I think I can help. Did you know that Amazon are currently running a two for one on Self Help books? So, I got you this.."
Jack holds up 'The Cow In The Parking Lot: A Zen Approach to Overcoming Anger'.
"Don't be intimidated by the big words, I tried to get 'Anger Management For Dummies' but apparently some idiot kept clicking the 'Buy Now' button and Amazon sold out. Besides, you've probably already got a few copies of that lying around, and it clearly isn't helping."
Jack throws the book over his shoulder and laughs.
“But, on to the matter at hand. You said we no longer have to worry about the KGB, about Soutter or Armand... Well, I hate to break it to ya pal, and I don't quite remember how many of you generic douchebags were running around with KGB shirts on back in SWEAT, all I do know is we were desperately outnumbered and dealing with the more legitimate threat of the ReV's at the same time and, frankly, dealing with you was never an issue. I mean, I literally came to your door dressed in a giant bunny costume, unable to see what the hell I was doing because of that giant fluffy head and still you boys weren't a cause for concern! Suddenly we're supposed to worry because the least memorable member no longer has his Babysitter's Club in tow?”
Jack shakes his head.
“You say we're scheming, plotting and lacking in integrity... wow you have a more selective memory than the former US President. Remember, it was us standing up to the tyranny and bullshit you clowns subjected the locker room too. I know we all have to be the hero of our own story, and I understand your clear need to justify befriending someone as utterly abhorrent as that Carny arsehole, but you're standing firmly on the wrong side of history here and everyone but you knows it. Let's both be honest with one another. You were an afterthought then and a notworthathought now. But fine, you want to meet us in the Battle Royal?!” Jack laughs “I honestly wasn't even planning on entering, I was going to spend the week enjoying catering and letting second rate hack's like yourself pander for a payday before eventually showing you up, but...” Jack shrugs “Okay. As they say in MY song, the Bear is coming over the mountain and what he sees is... a cunt.”
Jack smirks and leans closer to the camera.
“I'll see you at Honor.”
"Greetings my fellow competitors. This is an approved and serious, original message brought to you by me, Union Jack!” Jack pauses for an applause that doesn't come. “Please forgive my unusual attire, I'd hate for any accidental nudity to occur... although it seems at least one of you is eagerly anticipating another appearance of Lil' Jack."
“You called?” Lil MC interrupts as he walks into frame. A length of string hangs around the little Bear's neck, suspended from it is a black “CENSORED” sign, hung precariously over his little floppy rubber penis, though the tinkling of it's bell reassures us that it is indeed 'presented'. Jack stops and speaks to his lil friend.
“No dude, there's no place for you here.” Jack answered sympathetically.
“What... Seriously?” MC blinks as he tries to hold back the tears.
“'fraid so.” Jack nods. “I'm assuming you're who Ol' Original Tomm was talkin' about when he said 'Dildo Bear' because, well... You know” Jack gestures his head toward Lil' MC's new sign.
“But... How can he call that a Dildo?” MC asks incredulously “It's not even hard!”
“I know!” Jack shrugs. “Perhaps he's had that problem for so long he thinks that's just how they are supposed to look?”
“Well..” MC's head hangs, dejected and limp, like Donzig's... Ya know. “I guess I'll go.”
Jack watches MC walk away, sighs sadly and turns back to the Camera.
“Now, where was... Ah!” Jack holds one finger aloft triumphantly and grins. "That's right! Donzig! You sit and preach about originality, while spewing rage, condemnation and catchphrases like an eighties nostalgia act, Brother! Tell me, have you ever looked into the cause of your 'uncontrollable' anger? A quick Google tells me that many things can trigger anger, ranging from alcoholism and depression, right on down to stress, family problems and financial issues... and when we consider you as a person, financial issues seems the most likely cause, seeing as you retired and then came crawling back to an industry that didn't notice you'd left... of course, that doesn't explain the facial hair which looks like a brillo pad that's been dropped in the hair trap of a Tyneside Gym's shower room on 'Manscaping Monday', and the only explanation for that abomination is a rampant drink problem. And I know, I know, that's another reference you don't understand, but if we limit ourselves and our vocabulary to what you do understand, we would have to repeat "I Are Win" 333.33 recurring times, while angrily stomping around our locker room like a red bottomed cartoon character being observed by his condescending friend."
Jack shrugs in a 'Damned if ya do, damned if ya don't' gesture and continues.
"But, I think I can help. Did you know that Amazon are currently running a two for one on Self Help books? So, I got you this.."
Jack holds up 'The Cow In The Parking Lot: A Zen Approach to Overcoming Anger'.
"Don't be intimidated by the big words, I tried to get 'Anger Management For Dummies' but apparently some idiot kept clicking the 'Buy Now' button and Amazon sold out. Besides, you've probably already got a few copies of that lying around, and it clearly isn't helping."
Jack throws the book over his shoulder and laughs.
“But, on to the matter at hand. You said we no longer have to worry about the KGB, about Soutter or Armand... Well, I hate to break it to ya pal, and I don't quite remember how many of you generic douchebags were running around with KGB shirts on back in SWEAT, all I do know is we were desperately outnumbered and dealing with the more legitimate threat of the ReV's at the same time and, frankly, dealing with you was never an issue. I mean, I literally came to your door dressed in a giant bunny costume, unable to see what the hell I was doing because of that giant fluffy head and still you boys weren't a cause for concern! Suddenly we're supposed to worry because the least memorable member no longer has his Babysitter's Club in tow?”
Jack shakes his head.
“You say we're scheming, plotting and lacking in integrity... wow you have a more selective memory than the former US President. Remember, it was us standing up to the tyranny and bullshit you clowns subjected the locker room too. I know we all have to be the hero of our own story, and I understand your clear need to justify befriending someone as utterly abhorrent as that Carny arsehole, but you're standing firmly on the wrong side of history here and everyone but you knows it. Let's both be honest with one another. You were an afterthought then and a notworthathought now. But fine, you want to meet us in the Battle Royal?!” Jack laughs “I honestly wasn't even planning on entering, I was going to spend the week enjoying catering and letting second rate hack's like yourself pander for a payday before eventually showing you up, but...” Jack shrugs “Okay. As they say in MY song, the Bear is coming over the mountain and what he sees is... a cunt.”
Jack smirks and leans closer to the camera.
“I'll see you at Honor.”
