Post by Roy Vezina on Jan 21, 2024 0:50:42 GMT
The scene opens in downtown Chicago, at a fine dining restaurant called “Alana’s”. Inside we find the trio we have come to call the Punch Line, sitting at a table.
Roy Vezina: “Listen boys. We have our chance here to make history, eh? This is our chance to claim what is rightfully ours, those tag team titles belong to us and now we can claim them once and for all. Let’s bring those belts back to the Great White North!”
Rick Hull: “But cap, what if Mostaza shows up, eh?”
Roy Vezina: “Show what if he shows up? There’s three of us and one of him. That big oaf can kick rocks, eh? He was taking the spotlight away from who really deserves it… me. That big dumb goof better know what’s good for him and stay the hell out of our way.”
Harv Norris: “I don’t know, cap. El Cerdo Mostaza is a big dude and I was checking some things out about what he was doing over in Japan and looks like he made one hell of a name for himself in the sumo world. Called himself Tets…”
Roy holds up a hand.
Roy Vezina: “I don’t care what he called himself and what he did. He betrayed us, got it? I was guiding him to the main event and he got too big for his britches. As far as I’m considered, he’s old news. We, us, the Punchline are the future. That has been is on borrowed time, understood?”
Both men nod.
Roy Vezina: “I want us to focus on our title match right now, not that big dumb idiot in his stupid red and blue mask, eh? Let’s go out there and win those belts and get back home so we can celebrate Canadian style. Harv is buying all the Timmies we need the day after we party, eh?”
Harv Norris: “Sure, cap. Let’s get those belts home, right Ricky?”
Rick Hull: “For sure, Harv. Right, cap?”
Roy Vezina: “Boys, give your balls a tug, eh? We’re gonna be champions. Rocket, dinner’s on you. Make sure you tip the nice lady, eh?”
Rick Hull: “On it, cap.”
The scene fades out as the three men begin to clear out and the screen goes black.
Roy Vezina: “Listen boys. We have our chance here to make history, eh? This is our chance to claim what is rightfully ours, those tag team titles belong to us and now we can claim them once and for all. Let’s bring those belts back to the Great White North!”
Rick Hull: “But cap, what if Mostaza shows up, eh?”
Roy Vezina: “Show what if he shows up? There’s three of us and one of him. That big oaf can kick rocks, eh? He was taking the spotlight away from who really deserves it… me. That big dumb goof better know what’s good for him and stay the hell out of our way.”
Harv Norris: “I don’t know, cap. El Cerdo Mostaza is a big dude and I was checking some things out about what he was doing over in Japan and looks like he made one hell of a name for himself in the sumo world. Called himself Tets…”
Roy holds up a hand.
Roy Vezina: “I don’t care what he called himself and what he did. He betrayed us, got it? I was guiding him to the main event and he got too big for his britches. As far as I’m considered, he’s old news. We, us, the Punchline are the future. That has been is on borrowed time, understood?”
Both men nod.
Roy Vezina: “I want us to focus on our title match right now, not that big dumb idiot in his stupid red and blue mask, eh? Let’s go out there and win those belts and get back home so we can celebrate Canadian style. Harv is buying all the Timmies we need the day after we party, eh?”
Harv Norris: “Sure, cap. Let’s get those belts home, right Ricky?”
Rick Hull: “For sure, Harv. Right, cap?”
Roy Vezina: “Boys, give your balls a tug, eh? We’re gonna be champions. Rocket, dinner’s on you. Make sure you tip the nice lady, eh?”
Rick Hull: “On it, cap.”
The scene fades out as the three men begin to clear out and the screen goes black.