Post by Sir Chris Cairns on Jan 29, 2015 17:18:52 GMT -6
SIR Chris Cairns is standing by in a GZW2K1 promo room. In one hand, he holds his regal scepter. In the other hand, he holds a framed photograph of GZW2K1's Senior Interviewer Weston Bentley. Cairns holds the framed picture of Bentley up to his ear and wiggles it from side to side, pretending to listen to the photograph as if it is whispering to him.
Cairns: What's that, Bentley? You want to know where I buried the corpses of both Nathaniel Davis and Stephon Davis, before pissing on their singular grave after I humiliated them at Heatwave 11?
Cairns flicks the photograph backwards and forwards, emulating Bentley nodding feverishly. Cairns cackles evilly as his monobrow spikes down into a dastardly, V-shaped frown.
Cairns: Well, Bentley, I'm afraid I'm not going to do that! SIR CHRIS CAIRNS! You see, Nathaniel Davis and his idiot-boy of an inbred son are dead and buried and they're never coming back! SIR CHRIS CAIRNS! So why don't you just ask me some intelligent questions for once?! Ask Cairnsy about his regal plans for 2015! Ask Cairnsy about how he plans to become GZW2K1 World Heavyweight Champion this year! Ask Cairnsy about how he is single-handedly going to kill Clan Mayhem and send them all crying back to their Mummies with fear-induced shitey skid marks soiling their frilly knickers! Go on! Ask! SIR CHRIS CAIRNS!
Cairns presses his ear up against the framed photograph of Weston Bentley and listens intently, wiggling the frame from side-to-side once again. After a few seconds of listening, Cairns' eyes begin to flicker with rage.
Cairns: Bentley, I won't have you soiling Cairnsy's regal legacy by besmirching me contributions to the cause with your insidious pissed lips! Every peasant out there in the Cairnsyverse knows that SIR Chris Cairns - that's me, mates - has given everything he has to GZW2K1 over the last ten years! Cairnsy has bled, sweat and pissed GZW2K1 since arriving here in 2004 and Cairnsy truly believes that GZW2K1 is his home from bloody home! SIR CHRIS CAIRNS!
Cairns awaits his next question, frowning at Bentley's photograph.
Cairns: Well, let me just stop you reet there! Bentley, all I want is to be booked in a wrestling match on GZW2K1's first Crimson event of the year! I don't care if I'm booked to face the industry's top female competitor in Eva "Nemesis" Pisskari, because I know we'll put on a terrific match! And I don't care if I'm booked to face the brash and arrogant "Big Shot" John Champiss, because Cairnsy would certainly enjoy giving the Mississpissi native a sound bludgeoning over the head with me regal scepter! And you know what, Bentley? I don't even care if they book me to compete against that terrifying giant William Saint, who, of course, is better known as Mongpiss! Just give Cairnsy SOMEONE to compete against! ANYONE!
Just then, the REAL Weston Bentley nonchalantly wanders into the promo area. He is very shocked to see Chris Cairns.
Bentley: Hu-! Wha-? What are you doing here?! Weren't you suspended?
Cairns ignores the real Bentley, and simply scolds the photograph of Bentley, which he continues to hold up as if he were Hamlet holding Yorick's skull.
Cairns: Finally, Bentley, a half-decent bloody question! Well, yes, SIR Chris Cairns was indeed suspended for thirty days without pay due to the Nathaniel and Stephon murders. Then, when I was due back to work, I fell and twisted me ankle while dancing and pissing on Nathaniel and Stephon's singular grave. So it has been a long road to recovery over these last five months, but everything is fine now and I am ready to move on to new challenges and GZW2K1 World Heavyweight Championship reigns! SIR Chris Cairns!
Bentley: That makes no sense! Who takes five months to recover from a twisted ankle? Isn't the REAL reason for your return to GZW2K1 more likely to be due to the fact that you are in severe financial diff-
Cairns throws the photograph of Weston Bentley down onto the floor and stamps on it, jumping up and down on it furiously. The real Weston Bentley is stunned silent as Cairns throws a massive tantrum.
Cairns: HOW DARE YOU?! THAT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!
Cairns rears back with his scepter and smashes it down onto the framed photograph of Weston Bentley.
Cairns: SIR CHRIS CAIRNS!
The real Weston Bentley cowers in fear, backed-up against the promo room wall as Cairns slams his scepter down on the photograph once more. The glass is cracked and the frame is broken into two!
Cairns: SIR CHRIS CAIRNS!
Cairns swings his regal scepter down upon the photograph once more for good measure. Cairns then turns to the actual Weston Bentley, who sees his life flashing before his eyes, and places the scepter into the Senior Interviewer's arms. Cairns glares at Bentley.
Cairns: You there! Peasant! Hold this regal scepter for one moment!
Shaking, Bentley clutches at the scepter as Cairns turns and stands over the broken picture frame, broken glass and tattered photograph of Weston Bentley. Cairns then matter-of-factly unzips his jeans, takes out his penis (censored) and begins to piss all over the photograph of Weston Bentley, as Weston Bentley looks on, aghast.
Cairns: I warned you, Bentley! And now I'm pissing on you, just like I pissed on the singular grave of both Nathaniel and Stephon Davis!
Cairns continues to piss on the photograph while looking up into the camera.
Cairns: Now, as I was bloody well saying, I don't care who I'm booked against, but Cairnsy wants a match at Crimson! Cairnsy is back and better than ever, and 2015 is going to be the year of SIR!
Cairns ceases urinating. He pulls up his zipper and grabs his scepter back from Weston Bentley. Bentley is absolutely terrified and perplexed. Cairns ignores him, and instead solemnly looks down upon the urine-soaked photograph of Bentley that is lying on the studio floor.
Cairns: Rest in pissed knickers, Weston Bentley.
With that, Cairns turns and marches off. He pumps his scepter into the air with each chanted syllable of his own name.
Cairns: SIR CHRIS CAIRNS! SIR CHRIS CAIRNS! SIR CHRIS CAIRNS!!
Weston Bentley is wide-eyed and breathing heavily as he looks to Cairns marching away, before looking down to the floor. The camera tracks Bentley's eye line and tilts down to show us the piss-soaked photograph once more before the scene fades to a "WHERE ARE THEY NOW?" featurette showcasing a glum Bagpipey McHaggis being deported back to Scotland in a tiny cage on a boat, with a leash collared around his neck.
Cairns: What's that, Bentley? You want to know where I buried the corpses of both Nathaniel Davis and Stephon Davis, before pissing on their singular grave after I humiliated them at Heatwave 11?
Cairns flicks the photograph backwards and forwards, emulating Bentley nodding feverishly. Cairns cackles evilly as his monobrow spikes down into a dastardly, V-shaped frown.
Cairns: Well, Bentley, I'm afraid I'm not going to do that! SIR CHRIS CAIRNS! You see, Nathaniel Davis and his idiot-boy of an inbred son are dead and buried and they're never coming back! SIR CHRIS CAIRNS! So why don't you just ask me some intelligent questions for once?! Ask Cairnsy about his regal plans for 2015! Ask Cairnsy about how he plans to become GZW2K1 World Heavyweight Champion this year! Ask Cairnsy about how he is single-handedly going to kill Clan Mayhem and send them all crying back to their Mummies with fear-induced shitey skid marks soiling their frilly knickers! Go on! Ask! SIR CHRIS CAIRNS!
Cairns presses his ear up against the framed photograph of Weston Bentley and listens intently, wiggling the frame from side-to-side once again. After a few seconds of listening, Cairns' eyes begin to flicker with rage.
Cairns: Bentley, I won't have you soiling Cairnsy's regal legacy by besmirching me contributions to the cause with your insidious pissed lips! Every peasant out there in the Cairnsyverse knows that SIR Chris Cairns - that's me, mates - has given everything he has to GZW2K1 over the last ten years! Cairnsy has bled, sweat and pissed GZW2K1 since arriving here in 2004 and Cairnsy truly believes that GZW2K1 is his home from bloody home! SIR CHRIS CAIRNS!
Cairns awaits his next question, frowning at Bentley's photograph.
Cairns: Well, let me just stop you reet there! Bentley, all I want is to be booked in a wrestling match on GZW2K1's first Crimson event of the year! I don't care if I'm booked to face the industry's top female competitor in Eva "Nemesis" Pisskari, because I know we'll put on a terrific match! And I don't care if I'm booked to face the brash and arrogant "Big Shot" John Champiss, because Cairnsy would certainly enjoy giving the Mississpissi native a sound bludgeoning over the head with me regal scepter! And you know what, Bentley? I don't even care if they book me to compete against that terrifying giant William Saint, who, of course, is better known as Mongpiss! Just give Cairnsy SOMEONE to compete against! ANYONE!
Just then, the REAL Weston Bentley nonchalantly wanders into the promo area. He is very shocked to see Chris Cairns.
Bentley: Hu-! Wha-? What are you doing here?! Weren't you suspended?
Cairns ignores the real Bentley, and simply scolds the photograph of Bentley, which he continues to hold up as if he were Hamlet holding Yorick's skull.
Cairns: Finally, Bentley, a half-decent bloody question! Well, yes, SIR Chris Cairns was indeed suspended for thirty days without pay due to the Nathaniel and Stephon murders. Then, when I was due back to work, I fell and twisted me ankle while dancing and pissing on Nathaniel and Stephon's singular grave. So it has been a long road to recovery over these last five months, but everything is fine now and I am ready to move on to new challenges and GZW2K1 World Heavyweight Championship reigns! SIR Chris Cairns!
Bentley: That makes no sense! Who takes five months to recover from a twisted ankle? Isn't the REAL reason for your return to GZW2K1 more likely to be due to the fact that you are in severe financial diff-
Cairns throws the photograph of Weston Bentley down onto the floor and stamps on it, jumping up and down on it furiously. The real Weston Bentley is stunned silent as Cairns throws a massive tantrum.
Cairns: HOW DARE YOU?! THAT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!
Cairns rears back with his scepter and smashes it down onto the framed photograph of Weston Bentley.
Cairns: SIR CHRIS CAIRNS!
The real Weston Bentley cowers in fear, backed-up against the promo room wall as Cairns slams his scepter down on the photograph once more. The glass is cracked and the frame is broken into two!
Cairns: SIR CHRIS CAIRNS!
Cairns swings his regal scepter down upon the photograph once more for good measure. Cairns then turns to the actual Weston Bentley, who sees his life flashing before his eyes, and places the scepter into the Senior Interviewer's arms. Cairns glares at Bentley.
Cairns: You there! Peasant! Hold this regal scepter for one moment!
Shaking, Bentley clutches at the scepter as Cairns turns and stands over the broken picture frame, broken glass and tattered photograph of Weston Bentley. Cairns then matter-of-factly unzips his jeans, takes out his penis (censored) and begins to piss all over the photograph of Weston Bentley, as Weston Bentley looks on, aghast.
Cairns: I warned you, Bentley! And now I'm pissing on you, just like I pissed on the singular grave of both Nathaniel and Stephon Davis!
Cairns continues to piss on the photograph while looking up into the camera.
Cairns: Now, as I was bloody well saying, I don't care who I'm booked against, but Cairnsy wants a match at Crimson! Cairnsy is back and better than ever, and 2015 is going to be the year of SIR!
Cairns ceases urinating. He pulls up his zipper and grabs his scepter back from Weston Bentley. Bentley is absolutely terrified and perplexed. Cairns ignores him, and instead solemnly looks down upon the urine-soaked photograph of Bentley that is lying on the studio floor.
Cairns: Rest in pissed knickers, Weston Bentley.
With that, Cairns turns and marches off. He pumps his scepter into the air with each chanted syllable of his own name.
Cairns: SIR CHRIS CAIRNS! SIR CHRIS CAIRNS! SIR CHRIS CAIRNS!!
Weston Bentley is wide-eyed and breathing heavily as he looks to Cairns marching away, before looking down to the floor. The camera tracks Bentley's eye line and tilts down to show us the piss-soaked photograph once more before the scene fades to a "WHERE ARE THEY NOW?" featurette showcasing a glum Bagpipey McHaggis being deported back to Scotland in a tiny cage on a boat, with a leash collared around his neck.
