Site hosted by Angelfire.com: Build your free website today!
Ichabod sits on a couch in the den of an apartment watching the show with Jade Jeckell's comments. He smirks, and Selena walks in with a Peach Faygo and sets it down while opening up a Red Soda for herself. Ichabod sits up and looks at her.

This guy is such a fucking dope. He seems to forget that i didn't wrestle in this fed much because i was the VP back in the day. He forgets I did a lot of the background work that made him such a superstar. He also forgets that he is holding something of mine. Yeah, my US title. Soon it will be mine again, and he can go back to doing whatever jerkoff shit he does in the back stage area to impress the officials.

Ichabod turns toward the camera and grins.

Jeckell, you wannabe juggalo. You aren't shit to me. You are a third rate wrestler and a basic no talent choad that got lucky. I buried my fuckin' boot in your head sunday at Full Scale Colonization, and now i am going to bury your painted ass in the ring by dropping a fucking Euphoria on your unconscious ass. You see, there is one thing a true juggalo has that you don't, and that is style. You stole your style from Shaggy 2 Dope. Hell the image that comes up on the Realtron that is supposed to be you even has his name on it. What kind of shit is that? Are you Shaggy 2 Dope? First a juggalo, and now Shaggy himself, who the fuck will you claim to be next, God?

He reaches over and opens his Faygo and takes a sip out of it. Before speaking again.

I've made a descision about you, Jade, I have decided that after i leave your ass broken and bloodied in the center of the ring, i want you to go back to the locker room. Pack your gear up, and see if you can sell it at Play it Again Sports. You should get a good deal. But i don't want you to be unemployed. So, use the money you get for your gear, and buy yourself some gold polish, a couple of rags and some knee pads. You come to my room every night before a show, and knock on the door. I will be out preparing, but Selena will let you in. You go to the back of the room, and above my mirror is where i am going to hang my US belt. Take it down, put a little gold polish on it, clean it up real nicely, you know, make it shine so you can see your fucking clown face in it. Then put it back so i can come by and pick it up before the shows. I'll pay you, say, a dollar seventy five a night. Sound good? Hell, you won't even have to pimp your sister out, and you can feed your poor momma who watches in shame every night as her bastard son gets the shit beat out of him by the professionals, namely me.

He grins evilly.

You see, I am going to beat the hell out of you, making every minute in that ring seem like an eternity. You can cry, complain, and bitch all you want abou it, but it is inevitable. I am going to giv e you a good 20 minute ass beating, and then i am going to Bitch Thump your nose out the back of your fucking head, you choad. Ichabod will be the new US champ on the Dope show, and make no mistake about it, the sickness will rise up like a hellstorm of pain and fury, and nothing is going to stop it from infecting your sorry ass when we go toe to toe. Prepare for the end, ya fuckin' choad.

.

He downs the faygo and flips the channel WWF smackdown.

<.