Lance Storm: WHAT
Trent jumped in fright, knocking over his cheeze-its, his headset flying to the floor.
Lance Storm: ...in the HELL ARE YOU DOING?!
Trent turned to Lance looking like a rabbit caught in headlights - albeit a bearded and smelly bunny. He looked over at the cheeze-its in the bowl and pouted.
Trent: One… More… Quest…
Lance raised an eyebrow in confusion.
Trent: Dude… Chill-ax… Dude, bro, dude… I just began questing on World of Warcraft like 15 minutes ago…
Trent smiled, having not slept in days, he clearly couldn’t make out how quickly “15 minutes” went by. Lance’s eyebrow did not lower.
Lance Storm: World of Warcraft had BETTER be some new fangled fitness program you’ve embraced. Although…
Lance glanced towards Trent’s somewhat chubby waist-area.
Lance Storm: If it is, it is terrible and you must cease doing it immediately.
Trent chuckled and pointed at the computer monitor, his head tilted from side to side slowly, like a bobblehead. A polygonic version of himself stood in some medieval setting.
Lance squinted towards the screen, and had to take a seat for a closer look, unable to believe what he was seeing. He turned to Trent looking lost for words, pointing at the screen. Eventually, he spoke.[/color]
Lance Storm: You know this is why you don’t have a girlfriend, right? And this is also why you’re going to have Chris Sabin and Justin Gabriel running circles around you in the ring on Warfare? Oh, yes, we do have a match by the way. I assume you haven’t looked at your phone in days.
Trent scoffed. He reached out to grab a hold of his phone, hitting the sleep button… The display showed a dead battery.
Trent: Uhh… I need a new phone. So, what did you say about a match? Ohhh… We should play Extreme Warfare Revenge. Make Gabriel and Justin Sabin Bieber jobbers… Teheeheehee…
Lance Storm: Extreme.. Warfare… What? Trent, I can’t believe I’m having to ask this…
Lance took a look towards the door to make sure it was firmly closed. He lowered his voice.
Lance Storm: Have you been smoking the marijuana?
Trent shook his head…He pulled the hood of the blanket off his head and smiled.
Trent: Users don’t lose drugs… You seem worried about this match… Dude, we just need to chill, and taunt, and taunt our opponents until our special meter builds up. Then BAM!
Lance stood up, came face to face with Trent and slapped him. He held his cheek in his hands and looked up at Lance.
Trent: Damn, I couldn’t hit the counter button soon enough.
Lance’s eyes narrowed in fury. He slapped Trent again. Trent shook his head furiously.
Trent: The fuck was that? Where am I?
Either Lance’s intervention worked, or he had earned Trent a Well Deserved concussion.
Lance Storm: Just call me Super Lancio.
Trent looked puzzled.
Trent: What do you mean, Lance?
Lance Storm: Nevermind. Are you here now? Good lord I hope your virginity hasn’t regrown. I’m not teaming with a child.
Trent: Oh… Sure… Regrown… Heh. So, what’s up?
Lance slapped Trent once more for good measure.
Lance Storm: Me and you. Warfare. Justin Gabriel and Chris Sabin. Tag team action. Am I speaking plainly enough? This is our first chance to show our dominance in numbers and our superior teamwork.
Trent: Ah! I remember now! Chris Sabin thinks he’s such a hotshot because he had a SNES… I was training to show him who’s the king of kings… of videogames, so I whipped a quick character on World of Warcraft and went on one little que…
Trent sniffed.
Trent: What’s that smell?
He sniffed under his armpit.
Trent: Nevermind.
Lance grabbed Trent by his shoulders and began to shake him vigorously.
Lance Storm: Can… you… fucking… FOCUS! I brought you back into this business by the scruff of your neck and I can kick you straight back out of it if I see fit. This!
Lance pointed at the computer.
Lance Storm: THIS stops here. It’s all business from now on. Imagine if we lost against those two. After all the fanfare and the buzz surrounding us the past couple of months, and the position each of us is in to win the Royal Rumble - IMAGINE if we went to Warfare and lost the main event to a couple of kids. We HAVE to beat Chris Sabin and Justin Gabriel to further assert our dominance.
Trent: Those two don’t stand a chance against us… As I said, Chris Sabin is just a poor man’s Trent, plus his name rhymes with ‘Semen’. What are those two losers doing in the Main Event anyways? They haven’t done anything in months!
Lance Storm: They’re in the main event because WE are in the main event. And lets face it - look around the EBWF nowadays - we ARE the main event. Cena got sent home. Orton has apparently slithered back into his snakepit. Lesnar is out farming somewhere. What choice do they have but to focus everything on us? Even Wes himself is having to insert himself into matches just to give the company a bit of buzz. But we’re in that spot now and we’re not going to waste everything by playing fucking COMPUTER GAMES. Who cares who’s in the main event with us? We school them. That is what we’re about now Trent - schooling people.
Trent bit his lower lip trying really hard not to make a Matt Striker comment.
Trent: We put them out of their misery on Monday… We bring our A game, you knock their teeth off with a super kick, I will plant their freaking skulls against the mat with a Crunchy Driver. Come on Lance, do you really think Orton, Cena and Lesnar left because they had stuff to do? The truth is they couldn’t cope with the fact that You and Jericho, the only men that always posed a threat for their careers are back, and on top of that, you both chose to bring me into the mix…
Lance Storm: And tell me, Trent. Why DID I bring you into the mix? Why DID I invest so much time into training you, bringing you back into the spotlight and having you prove to Chris Jericho that there was still a reason to strap on his boots and fight?
Trent: Because I showed you I was hungry. Because I reminded you how many undeserving people sat on top of the wave, comfortably, earning money and the spotlight while making a silly joke out of the fine craft of wrestling. Because they deserve to have each and every single bones of their bodies completely broken, each joint separated, their faces bruised, they shall pay the Piper for not respecting our sport.
Lance Storm: Ex-fucking-xactly. I’ve taught you well.
There was a knock on the door. Lance shouted for whoever it was to come in. It was Renee Young, accompanied by a cameraman.
Lance Storm: Come here. Trent, tell this moderately attractive blonde lady and this fat cameraman about what is important. Tell them about why we’re here. Tell them about the art of PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING.
Trent pointed at Renee Young, he wore the blanket he was covering himself with as a cape.
Trent: Come Monday night, Lance and I have an appointment… An appointment with a man who thinks he’s half wolf, half man, but in reality is just half wrestler. Yeah, yeah… I can hear the ovaries in attendance booing me.
Trent leaned into Renee’s abdomen.
Trent: Yours too. Well, I’m sick and tired of people around her getting recognition for shit that’s not important. “Oh, Justin Gabriel is so hot!”, Shame he can outwrestle his sheets every morning he gets out of bed. You see Renee, not only Gabriel stains our fine profession, he stains the wrestling style I walk out there week in and week out and attempt to honor. Whenever I do a sunset flip, a corkscrew senton off the top rope, a Crunchy Driver, a Gobbstopper… I do it hoping some kid watching goes like “I want to do that too!”.
Renee Young: We have a clear “Don’t try this at home” Policy.
Trent: Shut up! I am an artist! The canvas is my… canvas… And You shall not cripple my freedom of speech and expression. Now, I don’t know and I don’t care if tonight there’s a full moon or not… If Gabriel needs a full moon, I’m pretty sure I can bend over and show him one!
Renee Young: Err… I don’t think that would be necessary.
Trent: Yeah, because my butt isn’t perky, round and bubbly like Gabriel’s, right?
Renee Young: I ju…
Trent: RIGHT?!?!?!!!!
Renee Young: I…
Trent: RIGHT!!!!!!!
Renee sighed.
Renee Young: Right.
Trent: You see, that’s what is wrong with this place… You rather watch a good looking moron like Gabriel doing anything on his trunks, instead of watching culturally correct men like Lance and I showing you what a beautiful sport Wrestling is. Everyone’s head turns to watch John Cena grant stupid wishes… But has anyone acknowledged our fine, humble and promising World Champion? NO ONE! By the way, John Cena’s biggest granted wish was mine, when he left the fuck out of this company, the grinning moron. NEXT QUESTION.
Renee Young: I…
Trent: Oh, yeah… Chris Sabin! Do you know what Chris Sabin has been doing all this time? I know you know he’s been on his mom’s basement playing videogames, but I just happened to stumble across him while playing World of Warcraft, he was playing AS A GIRL. Chris Sabin, the time for games is over. The truth of the matter is, I am well surrounded by masters, by excellent technicians, while you’re surrounded by… That Gabriel Guy and her girlfriend’s inflatable boobs, or is she your girlfriend? I don’t care… You want to brag about your games, go ahead, grab about your trophies, your pokemon, your WoW characters… I have bragging rights on things that really matter: Being undefeated for almost a year, being World Champion, being mentored by two of the biggest wrestlers the world has ever seen… I can keep going on and on… But I’m sure you have already seen my point. Now excuse me, I smell like shit and I need a shower. I like to be spotless when I am busting jaws and steamrolling faces. Care to join me, Blondie?
Renee, however, was no longer focused on Trent, but what was going on behind him. Lance was sat at the computer, hitting buttons quite loudly with his face mere inches from the screen. After a few more vigorous button presses, Lance stopped, stood up and walked to Trent.
Lance Storm: That quest that you’ve attempted 53 times? You don’t have to worry about that anymore. Now we can FULLY focus on our match. Has he been boring you about these piss easy computer games, Renee?
Lance turned to the camera, Trent could be seen behind him looking utterly speechless.
Lance Storm: Sabin… Gabriel… Your pretty little faces are going straight to hell. And do you want to know how you’re getting there?
Out of nowhere, Lance superkicked the camera.