Imagine how pleasantly surprised I was when that stupid fuck JMan contacted me on FaceBook, and basically told me he thought the same as I did, and the only way he imagined this place being brought back to prominence, was having his old buddy Ma$$Dinero back in the company he made famous.
He called me "The Real Saviour".
Someone that truly will make a real difference, and restore that happy feeling he used to get whenever he thought of Jabe.
He was wrong.
I'm here to cause nothing but worries and strife to this cuntbox. I'm here to act like such a prick, people will actually change the channel. Basically, I'm here to do exactly the opposite of what "The PhiladelphianPhucktard" thought I would do.
Which brings me to a certain Malcolm "I Freaking Wish I Was Still Booked By Ka$h" Cage. Or, more accurately, something he said.
He called me a cancer.
Something that, left untreated, will be the death of Jabe.
He was right.
Consider the man you see standing before you all the disease that will destroy this vessel cell by cell until it has finally been put to rest. Consider me the disease that will painfully cause each facet of this company to systematically break down, until it takes its last excruciating breath. Consider me to -quite simply- be the worst thing that could have possibly happened to the whimpering mutt that is this sad and pathetic little wankstain of a company.
I can't STAND what this place has degenerated into, and being the selfish type, I'm going to so something that makes me happy. I'm going to put this son of a bitch down without mercy.
Starting with you, Maaaaalcom. I've never liked you. You have the charisma of a used tampon, and the flare of a solar powered torch.
I accept your challenge for a match at In Justice We Will Bore The Pants Off You, and promise to make you regret the day you decided to take your brave pills and believe that you're anything but light years away from my level, boy. Just because you're on the rise around here, don't think that someone like me will gladly help you achieve your ascension. To me, you're nothing but an ant. To all the other ants around you, you're becoming something special, but to me, you've just wandered a little too far away from the colony, and are just begging for me to bring my god like boot down on top of you.
Failing the boot, I'll bring out the matches and deodorant and flame throw the shit out of you, then continue to do the same to the rest of your kind until there's not an ant left in the hill.
Y'see, I'm the sort of guy who would stop at no depths to get the job done. If I have to cheat to make the ends meet, then so be it. Smack a bitch with a pair of knuckle dusters? So fucking be it. See, my aim is to beat someone up so bad that the next shmuck to step up has that element of doubt in themselves. I want them to know that if they don't bring their a-game, they're not likely to stand a chance. I don't want my opponents half arsing things in that ring--where's the fun in that? Where's the challenge? When you see me going around knocking punks out, for no real reason, I want you to think that I'm not someone to be trusted. When you see me beating on a woman with an enlarged clitoris, I want you to think of me as a despicable bastard that you can't wait to get your hands on. I want you know that I will not pet to go above and beyond to get my point across.
I want you to know, that just when you think you've figured me out, I'm gonna spring a surprise on you that you won't see coming. ..
Like...
THIS!!
BOOYA!
Ma$$ swings his fist, and connects with his best friends jaw with sickening force, instantly knocking him out.
Pat: MY FRIEND WENT TO LONDON AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS BLOOD STAINED T-SHIRT!!
Dudley: TO DAVE!?!?
Ma$$ looks down at his unconscious friend, and shakes his head.
Ma$$: Sorry, bruv, but, I had to prove a point.
Ma$$ turns to the hard camera.
Ma$$: Come In Justice For Brawl, Malcolm, do your best to expect the unexpected.
You're playing with the big boys now.
Go hard, or go the fuck home to your fat mum and cry like the bitch nine Jabsters out of ten already think you are.
Ma$$ puts his mic back in his back pocket, reaches down, and pulls grabs Dave by the collar. He then drags him towards the ropes, and jumps through the middle and top ropes. Once on the floor, he pulls Dave out of the ring, and hoists him over his shoulder.
Ma$$ raises his free hand, and flips the crowd the bird as he walks up the ramp. The ferocious boos only quell once Ma$$ has made his way back through the JabeCurtain as we head to commercial.
He called me "The Real Saviour".
Someone that truly will make a real difference, and restore that happy feeling he used to get whenever he thought of Jabe.
He was wrong.
I'm here to cause nothing but worries and strife to this cuntbox. I'm here to act like such a prick, people will actually change the channel. Basically, I'm here to do exactly the opposite of what "The PhiladelphianPhucktard" thought I would do.
Which brings me to a certain Malcolm "I Freaking Wish I Was Still Booked By Ka$h" Cage. Or, more accurately, something he said.
He called me a cancer.
Something that, left untreated, will be the death of Jabe.
He was right.
Consider the man you see standing before you all the disease that will destroy this vessel cell by cell until it has finally been put to rest. Consider me the disease that will painfully cause each facet of this company to systematically break down, until it takes its last excruciating breath. Consider me to -quite simply- be the worst thing that could have possibly happened to the whimpering mutt that is this sad and pathetic little wankstain of a company.
I can't STAND what this place has degenerated into, and being the selfish type, I'm going to so something that makes me happy. I'm going to put this son of a bitch down without mercy.
Starting with you, Maaaaalcom. I've never liked you. You have the charisma of a used tampon, and the flare of a solar powered torch.
I accept your challenge for a match at In Justice We Will Bore The Pants Off You, and promise to make you regret the day you decided to take your brave pills and believe that you're anything but light years away from my level, boy. Just because you're on the rise around here, don't think that someone like me will gladly help you achieve your ascension. To me, you're nothing but an ant. To all the other ants around you, you're becoming something special, but to me, you've just wandered a little too far away from the colony, and are just begging for me to bring my god like boot down on top of you.
Failing the boot, I'll bring out the matches and deodorant and flame throw the shit out of you, then continue to do the same to the rest of your kind until there's not an ant left in the hill.
Y'see, I'm the sort of guy who would stop at no depths to get the job done. If I have to cheat to make the ends meet, then so be it. Smack a bitch with a pair of knuckle dusters? So fucking be it. See, my aim is to beat someone up so bad that the next shmuck to step up has that element of doubt in themselves. I want them to know that if they don't bring their a-game, they're not likely to stand a chance. I don't want my opponents half arsing things in that ring--where's the fun in that? Where's the challenge? When you see me going around knocking punks out, for no real reason, I want you to think that I'm not someone to be trusted. When you see me beating on a woman with an enlarged clitoris, I want you to think of me as a despicable bastard that you can't wait to get your hands on. I want you know that I will not pet to go above and beyond to get my point across.
I want you to know, that just when you think you've figured me out, I'm gonna spring a surprise on you that you won't see coming. ..
Like...
THIS!!
BOOYA!
Ma$$ swings his fist, and connects with his best friends jaw with sickening force, instantly knocking him out.
Pat: MY FRIEND WENT TO LONDON AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS BLOOD STAINED T-SHIRT!!
Dudley: TO DAVE!?!?
Ma$$ looks down at his unconscious friend, and shakes his head.
Ma$$: Sorry, bruv, but, I had to prove a point.
Ma$$ turns to the hard camera.
Ma$$: Come In Justice For Brawl, Malcolm, do your best to expect the unexpected.
You're playing with the big boys now.
Go hard, or go the fuck home to your fat mum and cry like the bitch nine Jabsters out of ten already think you are.
Ma$$ puts his mic back in his back pocket, reaches down, and pulls grabs Dave by the collar. He then drags him towards the ropes, and jumps through the middle and top ropes. Once on the floor, he pulls Dave out of the ring, and hoists him over his shoulder.
Ma$$ raises his free hand, and flips the crowd the bird as he walks up the ramp. The ferocious boos only quell once Ma$$ has made his way back through the JabeCurtain as we head to commercial.



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