This is not a Steve Rotten promo.
Tommy: "Thank god!"
This isn't a Drake and Morris promo either, despite the flashy little banner I've chosen to display.
Anyways. It's late at night, and what would a man on the verge of taking on the best flyweight in WWA be doing with his friend? Clubbing you say? Nah, Tommy Drake gets mobbed to often trying that. He'd be sleeping right about now. But in actually...
Tommy: "Just describe the scene already!"
Oh yeah, sorry. Well Tommy's chillin his high rise apartment in downtown Minneapolis, laying back on the couch in what appears clear discomfort? How you can tell you ask? Well first off he appears to have a few slashes on his face, and a big bag of ice resting on where his groin is. He shivers as he's only in some lengthy gym shorts and that's it. Ladies, you man now swoon.
Back to narrating, since that's what I do. Tommy's calmly watching the tail end of the Twister promo as we hear the sounds of grease and flames as a shot in the kitchen show's Russell cooking some scrambled eggs, only in some gym shorts and a Nike tank top. We fade back to Tommy as groans.
Tommy: "I really have to pitty...oooh...Steve Rotten. I mean this man, who claims to be a successful advertising man an athlete just possible can't be? Why you ask? Well I found out that with a wig, and a tank top that says "I'm Steve Rotten" you get mobbed a lot, and not in a good way. I feel the need to flash back for a moment to irritate this, then I'll go talk bout chu Twista!"
Our scene re-opens in this flashback to late afternoon, evening down on the streets of Minneapolis, right below his apartment. Tommy is adorned in jeans cut off right above the shins, some flip-flops. a white tank top reading "I'm Steve Rotten", a fuzzy black wig and holding a bag of Frito lays in which he munches with out much regard to manners. He quietly walks up to a nearby black girl, playing jump rope as "Steve" walks over to her.
Tommy: "Hello! I'm Steve Rotten! I eat Frito Lays and pretend to be a wrestle. Would you like some chips endorsed by me, Steve Rotten?"
Tommy gives the little girl a little smile as she appears to be about 10. She then nods and walks off. She returns with a baseball bat.
Tommy: "Would you like Steve Rotten to sign your baseball bat...eh?"
Black Girl: "No!! Your Steve Rotten!"
She then slams the baseball bat hard into Steve...err Tommy Drake's balls. Our hero collapses in a pile in a matter of seconds as he looks about, seeing people coming over.
Black Girl: "It's because I'm black isn't it? That's what my dad told me."
She trots off as the mob of twenty people look down at Tommy.
Guy in the mob: "Hey, he's Steve Rotten. Frito lays suck. Lets kick him in the balls!"
Tommy: "Oh no."
Tommy is then repeatedly kicked in the balls. Now back to our regularly scheduled promo.
~END OF FLASHBACK!!!~
Tommy: "See....uhhh. Steve, it just must suck to be you. Your manager work down by Natoli Ayn Thorne's mother's whore house, you get kicked in the balls a lot, and worst of all, you franchise frito lays. C'mon man! If your going to sell out, go with Pringles man! But that point aside, I have more pressing issue's."
Tommy tries to relax, breathing in and out as he sips his water. Russell comes in with a plate of scrambled eggs on toast as he takes the seat next to T Dawg. Russell grabs the TiVO remote and begins to flip through, finding the Twister promo as he takes a bite and looks to T Dawg.
Russell: "Between WWA Unlimited, The Battle in Seattle, getting kicked in the balls for impersonating Steve Rotten and facing off against the best cruiser in WWA, you are being stretched too thin."
Tommy: "Ok, maybe a bit. But what I really want to find out, is why Twister takes such a negative attitude to the fact I'm ended up visiting the guy who taught me how to wrestle in the first place. It's not my fault Logan goes after Russell Morris 1.0."
Russell grunts a little at the comment and contentedly munches.
Tommy: "Big ups to you Twista, for acknowledging that in fact I did earn the shot, and pointing out so cleverly with the Whirly mind of yours that you'll be a fight. And I agree. If I were in your situation would I part with the Cee Cee Dub flyweight belt? Hell no! Would I spend my time with Dan Pollaski as he hits on Russian maids? Hell no! But that's a personal opinion of mine."
Russell: "Another thing, when are you going to drop the whole certified badass thing."
Tommy: "When someone will make Steve Rotten shut up."
Russell sighs, realizing that will never happen as he shakes head and continues to eat, watching the Whirlybirdz promo.
Tommy: "Ok, I admit it. Calling myself a certified badass won't get me too far in the match aside from some cheap pops from the crowd, but I like those. You talk of never losing on a first title defense and to be honest, which I am eighty percent of the time...that's quite intimidating. But y'know? I mean really, do y'know?"
I don't think anyone does.
Tommy: "Twoey knows. But what I'm trying to say is that after my enlightening talk with who ever the hell that priest was, there's a first time for everything. You gotta fall to fly, see what I'm saying? I mean I lost to TTT, which crushed my ego. But look what happens after word? A lil blemish on my resume, but no biggy eh? My ego is once again out of check, like it should be. All I'm saying is that this Tuesday at Talent I'm once again, cast as the brilliant underdog with an ego the size of your maid's fine breasts? What? Your saying they weren't that big? Do I care?"
The question to that one is no!
Tommy: "Dude..your ruining my promo with your commentary!"
Oh. I thought I was adding a lil something, something kind of like DVD's with commentaries!
Tommy: "But your not. Your just being plain rude."
Russell: "He has a point."
Oh, ok then! Russell eyes the promo as Tommy coughs, taking the bag of ice off as even more women swoon of the sexy Tommy Drake.
Tommy: "As I was sayin. For the most part Twister, I've been the underdog my entire career, wait, my entire life. It's nothing new. I'm faced with the biggest task of the night. To take you to the limits and bring that shiny bling bling belt back to Cee Cee Dub where it belong, or so I how I feel really. So don't let my injured groin jade you holmes. I'm bringing the heat...the Minneapolis Heat!"
Random Latin rap begins to blare loudly through the room, and abruptly stops. Russell arches an eyebrow, and Tommy shrugs and smiles.
Tommy: "You see Twister, this to Russ and myself vs the world, part two. Except Russell will be too busy watching from backstage, and the rest of the world will be watching the match, or something like that. Point is I want that belt. I want that proud distinction that I beat, fair and square the best damn flyweight I've seen and most likely anyone else has seen. It's a bit humbling to think about it, which I'm not used to dogg..err Twister, but I like it. If I can't beat you at talent, which I have intention of defying your little record of first defense loss, then I'll go after you again. And again. And Again. Even if you don't have the CCW belt anymore. Why you ask yourself as eat food from your house as Dan mocks every little thing associated about me? Not because I can. Not because I'm a certified badass, which I am by the way. But because I know that deep down inside your thrilled at the thought of some no name rookie like me pushing you to your limits. A man displaying uncanny feats it would man good ole Danny Jealous. Hell, why aren't I named Uncanny Danny?"
Not sure. Tommy grins as he sips his water once more as he rolls his neck out and gingerly tries to stand up, his hand holding his most likely frozen numb balls within the grip of his boxers.
Tommy: "I can't say much more holmes. And I'm too out of it to rap too. Hell, I'm so out of it, I don't feel like mentioning those other guys that happen to be in the Battle of Seattle which T Drake will represent at. Simply put, all I can do right now is wait. Wait until you get ready to step into the ring with me. When Tommy Drake takes on Whirlybird numero uno."
Tommy groans as he begins to walk down a hall way, and toward his bedroom apparently. He turns back to the camera and sighs.
Tommy: "Is it so much to ask to not film me all the time? For christ's sake it isn't enough that these girls who look at me go into cardiac arrest!"
Russell: "From the looks of it it's more like a seizure."
Russell pauses the Twister promo as he gets out of his seat, setting his plate upon a nearby wood coffee table. He looks over at Tommy, who scuffles into his room a bit more.
Fade to Rotten? Does that even make sense?