Post by TFP on Nov 8, 2008 23:18:56 GMT -4
Bob Pocket: "Looks like you're going up against a chick. Peace, bro."
Bob tips his hat to Kurt, ready to head out the door, but he grabs Bob by the arm and pulls him back, slamming the door closed. Bob huffs and folds his arms, standing there, seeming a little bit on the frustrated side. Kurt just stands there, pointing a cold index finger in Bob's face, demanding that he stays where he's at.
Kurt Jips: "Hahaha, not so fast. You're managing me."
Bob Pocket: "Managing you? What's this nonsense?"
Kurt Jips: "It's as clear as any day - Yom Kippur, for example - something you can't black out... you managing me. Don't act like you don't know a thing, Bob. Skip this match and I'll tell the whole world everything that they need to know about me."
Bob Pocket: "You're crazy, nobody likes you, kid."
Kurt Jips: "That may be so, but once they see me wrestle and become the best wrestler ever on Conflict they won't have any choice but to love me for what I am - awesome."
Bob Pocket: "Sounding a bit on the arrogant side, aren't you?"
Kurt Jips: "Cocky? Hahaha, not a bit. I just can't stand acting like my opponents are somehow superior to me. Face the facts, Bob, I'm probably better than more than 90% of the FWA roster and there's always going to be that 10% I can't wrestle and compete with. You know it, too, kid - that the remaining 10% is impossible to fight, even step toe-to-toe with. Mainly because that remaining percent is myself. I mean, have you tried to fight yourself? Have you ever stood toe-to-toe with yourself?"
Bob Pocket: "At Disneyland, one time, in the Hall of Mirrors. Fuckin' crazy."
Kurt Jips: "Not exactly what I meant, but... good try."
Kurt walks towards a mirror set in place above a dead plant and he brings out a beard trimmer, shorening up his facial hair to look macho and savage. He grinsat seeing how awesome he looks and then he flexes a couple of times before finishing it off with an enthusiastic manly grunt. He exudes sex, walking through the hallways of his house wearing nothing more than a tuxedo shirt and black jogging pants. Strutting his stuff into the bathroom, he collects the scale from beside the trashcan and ceramic sink, placing it on the cold, wet and dirty tile floor. Once it's on all of its four tab things, he steps on the scale and notices that he's so manly that he's overweight for sombody in his body-mass index. In shock, he puts the scale back where he got it and retreats from the bathroom with a red face.
Bob Pocket: "Do I even need to ask?"
Kurt Jips: "Yes."
Bob Pocket: "... ... ...What did you do in there?"
Kurt Jips: "I weighed myself. Why?"
Bob Pocket: "How much does your fat ass weigh?"
Kurt Jips: "The Kurt Jips Stock Market closed today with a five pound increase."
Bob Pocket: "Jesus Christ! I have to sell! Fast!"
Kurt Jips: "Don't make light of this situation! We can only hope for a crash!"
Bob Pocket: "I can't make light of anything because you always demand we get the Miracle Whip with the most calories."
Kurt Jips: "Not funny! This week, against Lori Anne Rossdale, I shall wear a shirt in the ring! And it's all because of you."
Bob Pocket: "You know what? I'm going to like to see that happen - you won't wear one because you won't have any clean shirts to wear."
Kurt Jips: "Do I ever have clean shirts to wear?"
Bob Pocket: "When you get them for birthdays or Christmas."
Kurt Jips: "Hmmph. Nothing's gonna stop me."
Going to the spare room, Kurt lifts dumbbell bars with no weights attached.
Bob tips his hat to Kurt, ready to head out the door, but he grabs Bob by the arm and pulls him back, slamming the door closed. Bob huffs and folds his arms, standing there, seeming a little bit on the frustrated side. Kurt just stands there, pointing a cold index finger in Bob's face, demanding that he stays where he's at.
Kurt Jips: "Hahaha, not so fast. You're managing me."
Bob Pocket: "Managing you? What's this nonsense?"
Kurt Jips: "It's as clear as any day - Yom Kippur, for example - something you can't black out... you managing me. Don't act like you don't know a thing, Bob. Skip this match and I'll tell the whole world everything that they need to know about me."
Bob Pocket: "You're crazy, nobody likes you, kid."
Kurt Jips: "That may be so, but once they see me wrestle and become the best wrestler ever on Conflict they won't have any choice but to love me for what I am - awesome."
Bob Pocket: "Sounding a bit on the arrogant side, aren't you?"
Kurt Jips: "Cocky? Hahaha, not a bit. I just can't stand acting like my opponents are somehow superior to me. Face the facts, Bob, I'm probably better than more than 90% of the FWA roster and there's always going to be that 10% I can't wrestle and compete with. You know it, too, kid - that the remaining 10% is impossible to fight, even step toe-to-toe with. Mainly because that remaining percent is myself. I mean, have you tried to fight yourself? Have you ever stood toe-to-toe with yourself?"
Bob Pocket: "At Disneyland, one time, in the Hall of Mirrors. Fuckin' crazy."
Kurt Jips: "Not exactly what I meant, but... good try."
Kurt walks towards a mirror set in place above a dead plant and he brings out a beard trimmer, shorening up his facial hair to look macho and savage. He grinsat seeing how awesome he looks and then he flexes a couple of times before finishing it off with an enthusiastic manly grunt. He exudes sex, walking through the hallways of his house wearing nothing more than a tuxedo shirt and black jogging pants. Strutting his stuff into the bathroom, he collects the scale from beside the trashcan and ceramic sink, placing it on the cold, wet and dirty tile floor. Once it's on all of its four tab things, he steps on the scale and notices that he's so manly that he's overweight for sombody in his body-mass index. In shock, he puts the scale back where he got it and retreats from the bathroom with a red face.
Bob Pocket: "Do I even need to ask?"
Kurt Jips: "Yes."
Bob Pocket: "... ... ...What did you do in there?"
Kurt Jips: "I weighed myself. Why?"
Bob Pocket: "How much does your fat ass weigh?"
Kurt Jips: "The Kurt Jips Stock Market closed today with a five pound increase."
Bob Pocket: "Jesus Christ! I have to sell! Fast!"
Kurt Jips: "Don't make light of this situation! We can only hope for a crash!"
Bob Pocket: "I can't make light of anything because you always demand we get the Miracle Whip with the most calories."
Kurt Jips: "Not funny! This week, against Lori Anne Rossdale, I shall wear a shirt in the ring! And it's all because of you."
Bob Pocket: "You know what? I'm going to like to see that happen - you won't wear one because you won't have any clean shirts to wear."
Kurt Jips: "Do I ever have clean shirts to wear?"
Bob Pocket: "When you get them for birthdays or Christmas."
Kurt Jips: "Hmmph. Nothing's gonna stop me."
Going to the spare room, Kurt lifts dumbbell bars with no weights attached.