Matinée Award Ceremony
* * *
Random Fact
Today, on December 1, 2009, Muntadhar al-Zeidi -- the man responsible for the Oddjob-esque shoe throw at former President George W. Bush -- attended a publicity event in Paris to campaign for the victims of the U.S. occupation in Iraq.
During this ordeal, an Iraqi man in support of U.S. occupation in Iraq known as "Khayat" threw his shoe at Muntadhar al-Zeidi.
As such, Your Feature Presentation is honoring Khayat with the focal point of this broadcast's introduction for the sheer epic of the situation.
Also, the French are sissies.
* * *
Word of the Day
Poltroon
-noun
A wretched coward.
-adjective
Characterized by complete cowardice.
* * *
And now, for your feature presentation...
* * *
The baby blue strobe lights beat down on the theater stage, putting so much definition on the young girl on stage that she almost appears like a cartoon or polygon. The audience at chest level of the stage whistle and cheer for the blonde haired Australian girl, who has gained particularly prestige as the foil and manager of the seemingly unbeatable Sterling Champion of Global Extreme Wrestling.
The soft creamy skin of the girl is without blemish amidst the shadeless perch and its long crimson tapestries of curtain on either side of the stage. Behind her, the scenery is phenomenal. A fairly moderate sized screen is perched on the wall as though this were a movie theater and the hand made linen decor on the border of it is astonishing.
The camera pans to show that the room is only about the size of a movie theater room. In fact, it is a movie theater room.
Stepping up to the podium at the center of the stage, the young girl buckles at all of the eyes on her before speaking in her soft Land From Down Under accent...
Miss Sarah:
"Thank you all for joining us! And a special thank you to Chris's uncle for letting us use this theater to host the first ever Matinée Award Ceremony!"
There's an unsettled stir among the crowd as a few men wolf whistle at the bombshell vixen on stage. However, she continues after a brief pause...
Miss Sarah:
"I understand that there is a measure of confusion to be found here as the Global Extreme Wrestling Award Ceremony is right around the corner. However, this particular award ceremony will feature only two awards being given out for one thing.
As many of you are aware, voting is still going on for the End of the Year Awards for 2009. However, some of you may not be aware that the servers on the Global Extreme Wrestling website crashed a few days ago and has, since, been restored... barring the award for Sexiest Male of 2009."
High pitched screams fill the audience at the hint of Matinée Unlimited making an appearance. Tittering to herself before continuing, Miss Sarah places an envelope on the podium...
Miss Sarah:
"Rumors have already begun circulating that Kameron Chase, the winner of last year's poll and a man who has been nipping at the heels of your Sterling Champion for quite some time, had a bit to say about how the results were turning out. As such, the chairwoman of the company and sister of Kameron Chase, Chelsea Reed, had the server for the polls temporarily closed before restoring them with the absence of the Sexiest Male 2009 poll.
As such, we at Your Feature Presentation, are taking the liberty of having the award given out anyway based on what the results were showing right before the polls were closed. And rest assure, the White Mage was monitoring the poll very carefully during this time frame, so this is as accurate as we can get."
Adjusting the microphone on the podium, Miss Sarah clears her throat and raises the envelope again...
Miss Sarah:
"So, based on the most recent results of the poll, you the fans have chosen two individuals to receive this award with a tie. As such, one award will go to one of the winners and another to the other.
So, without further ado, lets open the envelope. The winners of the GEW Sexiest Male of 2009 accolade are..."
There's a pause as a drum roll comes over the loud speakers to the amusement of some of the fans. As the young girl smirks, she pulls a paper out of the envelope even though she already knows who won. Feigning a look of shock, Miss Sarah releases an elated declaration into the microphone...
Miss Sarah:
"The magnificent Ripplemagne and Dwight Mare~!"
The screen behind them shows the MGM lion roaring as "Remember the Name" by Fort Minor cuts into the loudspeakers. Both men come out from adjacent sides of the stage, sporting rather suave looking suits. There's a look of fright on the face of Dwight Mare as Ripplemagne strolls over and whispers something into his ear.
Cautiously following the strut of Ripplemagne to the podium, Dwight Mare looks at the women in the audience, who encompass about 80% of them. Visibly blushing, he tries to stand behind Ripplemagne to avoid too much spot light...
Ripplemagne:
"Ahoy, Canadia! As if there were any doubt that at least one of the members of the sexiest stable in wrestling history would win this accolade. Genuflect, fellas, because we are your aesthetic superiors. With individuals like the magnificent Ripplemagne, the Dwight Mare, the Bucky Skyler and the Tang, was there any doub--"
Miss Sarah:
"Ahem."
Ripplemagne:
"Oh. And Hayden Clarke too."
Miss Sarah:
"Ahem!"
Ripplemagne:
"Huh? What...? Oh! And the White Mage too. Thanks, Straylia."
Miss Sarah:
"Ahem!"
Ripplemagne:
"...Mufasa?"
Miss Sarah:
"Forget it! Just continue!"
Ripplemagne:
"Was there any doubt that one of us was the aesthetically dominant? The fan base of Gewland -- trademark, the Ripplemagne's pretty, porcelain ass -- has has undeniably magnified in its gyno-viewership since the Matinée have stepped foot in this place.
But, of course, jealousy rears its ugly -- and I use that term very vividly -- head whenever looks are discussed. It would seem that our fine Kammy-baby took a particular disliking to the Patriarch of Pretty making him look bad again. Afterall, Kammy-baby won last year -- though, to be fair, competition was much... less um... appealing... back then. So, of course, that award was his! No one else should have it!
It speaks volumes that his victory last year was barely a blemish this year. It must have unnerved him to see that he was getting next to no votes -- in fact, I think he had no votes -- in contrast to an individual that he tried in vain to get a leg up on.
So, the poltroon took the route of sabotage to shelter the microcosm that is his incomprehensibly frail ego."
Looking over at Dwight behind him, trying not to make eye contact with the girls staring at him, Ripplemagne snickers to himself...
Ripplemagne:
"And the best part is this: rumor has it that Kameron Chase tried to justify it by saying that the good people at Your Feature Presentation rigged the polls. But, characteristically, has the Ripplemagne ever lied, cheated or stolen anything? Have the members of Reed's Angels? Do we, at Your Feature Presentation, even have the authority or pull in the company to do so?
Of course not. We went on record to admonish both Dexter and Chelsea last week. Somehow, being popular and recognize with the fan base is 'rigging' nowadays. Go figure.
Anyway, Dwight, say something..."
Pushing the co-winner of the award to the podium, Ripplemagne steps back as Dwight looks like a deer in headlights. Frantically shaking his head, Dwight Mare jitters his way all the way back behind where he came from. As Ripplemagne watches Dwight leave, he raises both awards and an eyebrow...
Ripplemagne:
"I'll give it to him later. On Thursday, you, my fine feathered fans, shall be treated to the first ever Ripplemagne Street Fight. Against Oliver Creed -- whom the Ripplemagne pinned to send him on his way out of the company at Pushed to the Limits, only for Chelsea to flip flop on her earlier decision and book him against me for this week.
You know, I've been doing some thinking about our theological debate from the other week, Ollie. And I gotta say... it's the spitting image of the Protestant Reformation. The King of Hearts is the modern day Martin Luther and you, Ollie, are the modern day Johann Tetzel.
You beguile the public with false doctrines and make a spectacle of yourself while damning everyone else to Hell. You refer to yourself as the Messiah. But the real Messiah said to be wary of false prophets. That we can see their earnestness by the content of their character. And last week, you did exactly what the Catholic Church did to Martin Luther. You attempted to excommunicate me and renounce my derision of your haphazardly thrown together theology. Well, I'm going to quote Martin Luther:
'Unless I am convinced by the testimony of the Scriptures or by clear reason -- for I do not trust either in the Pope or in Councils, alone, since it is well known that they have often erred and contradicted themselves -- I am bound by the Scriptures I have quoted and my conscience is captive to the Word of God. I cannot and will not recant anything, since it is neither safe nor right to go against conscience. May God help me. Amen.'"
There's quite a bit of cheering amongst the religious in the crowd as Ripplemagne preaches and extends a hearty smirk...
Ripplemagne:
"Your false indulgences are characteristic of a false prophet and my earnestness came through at Pushed to the Limits when I beat you under much more overbearing conditions.
But speaking of indulgences and paper work, it seems that the Ripplemagne is inspiring quite a number of our upstart talent."
In that instant, there's a zipping sound as the fans all gasp to a brunette male falling from the rafters attached to a safety harness. Hanging upside down, the figure sways himself around to reveal himself as The Tang... hanging upside down...
The Tang:
"Hey, Ripp'! How's it hangin'?!"
Ripplemagne:
"Oh, dandy. I was just about to point out the copyright infringement from the Jokes-Are Mild."
The Tang:
"Oh, those clown dykes, so unbearably unfunny that they can't even conjure their own material?"
Ripplemagne:
"The very same! It was sour enough when they ripped off Dude, Where's My Car... but dude! You can't rip off the competition! Especially when you went to such great lengths to run their name in the muck!
It makes you look worse to try living in their shadow!"
The Tang:
"Shall we roll the tape?"
Ripplemagne:
"I think we shall."
* * *
Blakjak:
“Have they even had a match? I mean, I don't ever remember seeing them in the ring.”
Spades:
“No, my friend. I think we have fallen victim to a little thing called backstage politics.”
Blakjak:
“What politicking could possibly have turned its vile little head at us? We're awesome!”
Spades:
“Simple, really. Wimmenz.”
Blakjak:
“No, anything but wimmenz!”
Spades:
“Yes, I'm afraid so.”
Lola:
“Oh seriously, you're pulling the whole gender card on this one?”
Blakjak:
“You aren't allowed to have an opinion. As far as we know, you're in league with the rest of them. I mean, you do have chesticles... even if they are, kinda, you know...
...Tiny.”
Dan:
“Okay, but guys, how could this be politics? The tag division is shallow is all. They needed to have a tag team title match and this was all they had.”
Spades:
“Um, excuse me. Shallow? Have you seen us? We're as deep as the Atlantic!”
Blakjak:
“I don't think he means like that, dude. Come on, Dan. Even we had to at least win a damn match before we were given our shot. They just get to waltz in on PPV and get a free tag team title shot! Come on. I call politicking!”
Dan:
“What politics!?”
Spades:
“Clearly, the politics that says the owner has a cooch'. She obviously wants more wimmen champions in the GEW, so she just grabs the first pair she can find and gives them a free title shot.”
Blakjak:
“Which, by the way, is absurd. In fact, this entire week is absurd. Not only do we have to face a team who has no business competing against us, but for some ungodly reason, we are doing a job that should be reserved for said wimmenz.”
Spades:
“Good point. We should hit them up. They need to make me a sandwich or do my laundry or something. Because I doubt they'll be able to give me a quality match. I mean, one is what? A valet?”
Blakjak:
“Wait, since when was being sexist part of our gimmick?”
Spades:
“When did we sign the contract for the match? Whenever it was, sexism was added to the list right at that point.”
Blakjak:
“Well, then we must make a note to be super mean in the ring. Maybe we should buy some frying pans and such and give them our items of insult during the match. You know, piss them off royally.”
* * *
It looks like The Tang is foaming at the mouth after watching the video as Ripplemagne nonchalantly looks back to the audience and speaks into the microphone...
Ripplemagne:
"Come. On. Now.
Overuse of the word "wimmenz", sexism, ridiculous conspiracy theories, use of the word "cooch'", obscenely obviously rehearsed lines with ques for the other person to continue, rampant egotism or pretentiousness, inane conspiring to antagonize opponents with sophomoric antics, poking fun at the physical defects of the female manager--"
Miss Sarah:
"Hey!"
Ripplemagne:
"...Being put in a tag team match with someone that doesn't deserve the shot. Not to mention they stole mine and Tang's rock, paper, scissor thing!"
The Tang:
"Hey, why didn't we come up with 'chesticles'?"
Ripplemagne:
"It wasn't sexy enough to enter the Ripplemagne's Esteemed and Verily Sexy-slash-Awesomely Book of Diction."
The Tang:
"But no one do it like MxM."
A grumble escapes the lips of Ripplemagne as he ponders for a moment...
Ripplemagne:
"I don't know whether to be flattered or if I should go kick some ass!"
The Tang:
"I vote kick some ass!"
Ripplemagne:
"Alright! Lets go kick some ass!"
The Tang:
"Yeah! Lets kick some ass!"
Ripplemagne:
"One problem."
The Tang:
"Hm?"
Ripplemagne:
"I have no idea where they're staying."
The Tang:
"...N-Neither do I."
Ripplemagne:
"...Wanna grab a pizza?"
The Tang:
"A Canadian pizza?!"
Ripplemagne:
"Well, we are in Canadia."
The Tang:
"Oh, happy day!"
The fans chuckle as Ripplemagne unlatches Tang, sending him crashing to the ground behind the podium...
The Tang:
"WAAAAAAH! MY EYE!"
Chuckling to himself, Ripplemagne turns to the camera and points to it like Uncle Sam.
Ripplemagne:
"Believe it, folks!"
* * *
Fin.
* * *
Random Fact
Today, on December 1, 2009, Muntadhar al-Zeidi -- the man responsible for the Oddjob-esque shoe throw at former President George W. Bush -- attended a publicity event in Paris to campaign for the victims of the U.S. occupation in Iraq.
During this ordeal, an Iraqi man in support of U.S. occupation in Iraq known as "Khayat" threw his shoe at Muntadhar al-Zeidi.
As such, Your Feature Presentation is honoring Khayat with the focal point of this broadcast's introduction for the sheer epic of the situation.
Also, the French are sissies.
* * *
Word of the Day
Poltroon
-noun
A wretched coward.
-adjective
Characterized by complete cowardice.
* * *
And now, for your feature presentation...
* * *
The baby blue strobe lights beat down on the theater stage, putting so much definition on the young girl on stage that she almost appears like a cartoon or polygon. The audience at chest level of the stage whistle and cheer for the blonde haired Australian girl, who has gained particularly prestige as the foil and manager of the seemingly unbeatable Sterling Champion of Global Extreme Wrestling.
The soft creamy skin of the girl is without blemish amidst the shadeless perch and its long crimson tapestries of curtain on either side of the stage. Behind her, the scenery is phenomenal. A fairly moderate sized screen is perched on the wall as though this were a movie theater and the hand made linen decor on the border of it is astonishing.
The camera pans to show that the room is only about the size of a movie theater room. In fact, it is a movie theater room.
Stepping up to the podium at the center of the stage, the young girl buckles at all of the eyes on her before speaking in her soft Land From Down Under accent...
Miss Sarah:
"Thank you all for joining us! And a special thank you to Chris's uncle for letting us use this theater to host the first ever Matinée Award Ceremony!"
There's an unsettled stir among the crowd as a few men wolf whistle at the bombshell vixen on stage. However, she continues after a brief pause...
Miss Sarah:
"I understand that there is a measure of confusion to be found here as the Global Extreme Wrestling Award Ceremony is right around the corner. However, this particular award ceremony will feature only two awards being given out for one thing.
As many of you are aware, voting is still going on for the End of the Year Awards for 2009. However, some of you may not be aware that the servers on the Global Extreme Wrestling website crashed a few days ago and has, since, been restored... barring the award for Sexiest Male of 2009."
High pitched screams fill the audience at the hint of Matinée Unlimited making an appearance. Tittering to herself before continuing, Miss Sarah places an envelope on the podium...
Miss Sarah:
"Rumors have already begun circulating that Kameron Chase, the winner of last year's poll and a man who has been nipping at the heels of your Sterling Champion for quite some time, had a bit to say about how the results were turning out. As such, the chairwoman of the company and sister of Kameron Chase, Chelsea Reed, had the server for the polls temporarily closed before restoring them with the absence of the Sexiest Male 2009 poll.
As such, we at Your Feature Presentation, are taking the liberty of having the award given out anyway based on what the results were showing right before the polls were closed. And rest assure, the White Mage was monitoring the poll very carefully during this time frame, so this is as accurate as we can get."
Adjusting the microphone on the podium, Miss Sarah clears her throat and raises the envelope again...
Miss Sarah:
"So, based on the most recent results of the poll, you the fans have chosen two individuals to receive this award with a tie. As such, one award will go to one of the winners and another to the other.
So, without further ado, lets open the envelope. The winners of the GEW Sexiest Male of 2009 accolade are..."
There's a pause as a drum roll comes over the loud speakers to the amusement of some of the fans. As the young girl smirks, she pulls a paper out of the envelope even though she already knows who won. Feigning a look of shock, Miss Sarah releases an elated declaration into the microphone...
Miss Sarah:
"The magnificent Ripplemagne and Dwight Mare~!"
The screen behind them shows the MGM lion roaring as "Remember the Name" by Fort Minor cuts into the loudspeakers. Both men come out from adjacent sides of the stage, sporting rather suave looking suits. There's a look of fright on the face of Dwight Mare as Ripplemagne strolls over and whispers something into his ear.
Cautiously following the strut of Ripplemagne to the podium, Dwight Mare looks at the women in the audience, who encompass about 80% of them. Visibly blushing, he tries to stand behind Ripplemagne to avoid too much spot light...
Ripplemagne:
"Ahoy, Canadia! As if there were any doubt that at least one of the members of the sexiest stable in wrestling history would win this accolade. Genuflect, fellas, because we are your aesthetic superiors. With individuals like the magnificent Ripplemagne, the Dwight Mare, the Bucky Skyler and the Tang, was there any doub--"
Miss Sarah:
"Ahem."
Ripplemagne:
"Oh. And Hayden Clarke too."
Miss Sarah:
"Ahem!"
Ripplemagne:
"Huh? What...? Oh! And the White Mage too. Thanks, Straylia."
Miss Sarah:
"Ahem!"
Ripplemagne:
"...Mufasa?"
Miss Sarah:
"Forget it! Just continue!"
Ripplemagne:
"Was there any doubt that one of us was the aesthetically dominant? The fan base of Gewland -- trademark, the Ripplemagne's pretty, porcelain ass -- has has undeniably magnified in its gyno-viewership since the Matinée have stepped foot in this place.
But, of course, jealousy rears its ugly -- and I use that term very vividly -- head whenever looks are discussed. It would seem that our fine Kammy-baby took a particular disliking to the Patriarch of Pretty making him look bad again. Afterall, Kammy-baby won last year -- though, to be fair, competition was much... less um... appealing... back then. So, of course, that award was his! No one else should have it!
It speaks volumes that his victory last year was barely a blemish this year. It must have unnerved him to see that he was getting next to no votes -- in fact, I think he had no votes -- in contrast to an individual that he tried in vain to get a leg up on.
So, the poltroon took the route of sabotage to shelter the microcosm that is his incomprehensibly frail ego."
Looking over at Dwight behind him, trying not to make eye contact with the girls staring at him, Ripplemagne snickers to himself...
Ripplemagne:
"And the best part is this: rumor has it that Kameron Chase tried to justify it by saying that the good people at Your Feature Presentation rigged the polls. But, characteristically, has the Ripplemagne ever lied, cheated or stolen anything? Have the members of Reed's Angels? Do we, at Your Feature Presentation, even have the authority or pull in the company to do so?
Of course not. We went on record to admonish both Dexter and Chelsea last week. Somehow, being popular and recognize with the fan base is 'rigging' nowadays. Go figure.
Anyway, Dwight, say something..."
Pushing the co-winner of the award to the podium, Ripplemagne steps back as Dwight looks like a deer in headlights. Frantically shaking his head, Dwight Mare jitters his way all the way back behind where he came from. As Ripplemagne watches Dwight leave, he raises both awards and an eyebrow...
Ripplemagne:
"I'll give it to him later. On Thursday, you, my fine feathered fans, shall be treated to the first ever Ripplemagne Street Fight. Against Oliver Creed -- whom the Ripplemagne pinned to send him on his way out of the company at Pushed to the Limits, only for Chelsea to flip flop on her earlier decision and book him against me for this week.
You know, I've been doing some thinking about our theological debate from the other week, Ollie. And I gotta say... it's the spitting image of the Protestant Reformation. The King of Hearts is the modern day Martin Luther and you, Ollie, are the modern day Johann Tetzel.
You beguile the public with false doctrines and make a spectacle of yourself while damning everyone else to Hell. You refer to yourself as the Messiah. But the real Messiah said to be wary of false prophets. That we can see their earnestness by the content of their character. And last week, you did exactly what the Catholic Church did to Martin Luther. You attempted to excommunicate me and renounce my derision of your haphazardly thrown together theology. Well, I'm going to quote Martin Luther:
'Unless I am convinced by the testimony of the Scriptures or by clear reason -- for I do not trust either in the Pope or in Councils, alone, since it is well known that they have often erred and contradicted themselves -- I am bound by the Scriptures I have quoted and my conscience is captive to the Word of God. I cannot and will not recant anything, since it is neither safe nor right to go against conscience. May God help me. Amen.'"
There's quite a bit of cheering amongst the religious in the crowd as Ripplemagne preaches and extends a hearty smirk...
Ripplemagne:
"Your false indulgences are characteristic of a false prophet and my earnestness came through at Pushed to the Limits when I beat you under much more overbearing conditions.
But speaking of indulgences and paper work, it seems that the Ripplemagne is inspiring quite a number of our upstart talent."
In that instant, there's a zipping sound as the fans all gasp to a brunette male falling from the rafters attached to a safety harness. Hanging upside down, the figure sways himself around to reveal himself as The Tang... hanging upside down...
The Tang:
"Hey, Ripp'! How's it hangin'?!"
Ripplemagne:
"Oh, dandy. I was just about to point out the copyright infringement from the Jokes-Are Mild."
The Tang:
"Oh, those clown dykes, so unbearably unfunny that they can't even conjure their own material?"
Ripplemagne:
"The very same! It was sour enough when they ripped off Dude, Where's My Car... but dude! You can't rip off the competition! Especially when you went to such great lengths to run their name in the muck!
It makes you look worse to try living in their shadow!"
The Tang:
"Shall we roll the tape?"
Ripplemagne:
"I think we shall."
* * *
Blakjak:
“Have they even had a match? I mean, I don't ever remember seeing them in the ring.”
Spades:
“No, my friend. I think we have fallen victim to a little thing called backstage politics.”
Blakjak:
“What politicking could possibly have turned its vile little head at us? We're awesome!”
Spades:
“Simple, really. Wimmenz.”
Blakjak:
“No, anything but wimmenz!”
Spades:
“Yes, I'm afraid so.”
Lola:
“Oh seriously, you're pulling the whole gender card on this one?”
Blakjak:
“You aren't allowed to have an opinion. As far as we know, you're in league with the rest of them. I mean, you do have chesticles... even if they are, kinda, you know...
...Tiny.”
Dan:
“Okay, but guys, how could this be politics? The tag division is shallow is all. They needed to have a tag team title match and this was all they had.”
Spades:
“Um, excuse me. Shallow? Have you seen us? We're as deep as the Atlantic!”
Blakjak:
“I don't think he means like that, dude. Come on, Dan. Even we had to at least win a damn match before we were given our shot. They just get to waltz in on PPV and get a free tag team title shot! Come on. I call politicking!”
Dan:
“What politics!?”
Spades:
“Clearly, the politics that says the owner has a cooch'. She obviously wants more wimmen champions in the GEW, so she just grabs the first pair she can find and gives them a free title shot.”
Blakjak:
“Which, by the way, is absurd. In fact, this entire week is absurd. Not only do we have to face a team who has no business competing against us, but for some ungodly reason, we are doing a job that should be reserved for said wimmenz.”
Spades:
“Good point. We should hit them up. They need to make me a sandwich or do my laundry or something. Because I doubt they'll be able to give me a quality match. I mean, one is what? A valet?”
Blakjak:
“Wait, since when was being sexist part of our gimmick?”
Spades:
“When did we sign the contract for the match? Whenever it was, sexism was added to the list right at that point.”
Blakjak:
“Well, then we must make a note to be super mean in the ring. Maybe we should buy some frying pans and such and give them our items of insult during the match. You know, piss them off royally.”
* * *
It looks like The Tang is foaming at the mouth after watching the video as Ripplemagne nonchalantly looks back to the audience and speaks into the microphone...
Ripplemagne:
"Come. On. Now.
Overuse of the word "wimmenz", sexism, ridiculous conspiracy theories, use of the word "cooch'", obscenely obviously rehearsed lines with ques for the other person to continue, rampant egotism or pretentiousness, inane conspiring to antagonize opponents with sophomoric antics, poking fun at the physical defects of the female manager--"
Miss Sarah:
"Hey!"
Ripplemagne:
"...Being put in a tag team match with someone that doesn't deserve the shot. Not to mention they stole mine and Tang's rock, paper, scissor thing!"
The Tang:
"Hey, why didn't we come up with 'chesticles'?"
Ripplemagne:
"It wasn't sexy enough to enter the Ripplemagne's Esteemed and Verily Sexy-slash-Awesomely Book of Diction."
The Tang:
"But no one do it like MxM."
A grumble escapes the lips of Ripplemagne as he ponders for a moment...
Ripplemagne:
"I don't know whether to be flattered or if I should go kick some ass!"
The Tang:
"I vote kick some ass!"
Ripplemagne:
"Alright! Lets go kick some ass!"
The Tang:
"Yeah! Lets kick some ass!"
Ripplemagne:
"One problem."
The Tang:
"Hm?"
Ripplemagne:
"I have no idea where they're staying."
The Tang:
"...N-Neither do I."
Ripplemagne:
"...Wanna grab a pizza?"
The Tang:
"A Canadian pizza?!"
Ripplemagne:
"Well, we are in Canadia."
The Tang:
"Oh, happy day!"
The fans chuckle as Ripplemagne unlatches Tang, sending him crashing to the ground behind the podium...
The Tang:
"WAAAAAAH! MY EYE!"
Chuckling to himself, Ripplemagne turns to the camera and points to it like Uncle Sam.
Ripplemagne:
"Believe it, folks!"
* * *
Fin.
* * *
