SAWFT is Still a Sin
Posted: Mon Dec 14, 2015 6:40 pm
OOC: Good luck, Thom! Hope everyone enjoys this. (It isn't easy trying to channel a certified G).
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The Warfare crowd was pumped as could be, on their feet with the official kick off of the show.
Music which had not been heard for some time rumbled through the arena. “SAWFT is a Sin” sounded off and after the instrumental intro, Enzo Amore shuffled energetically like something out of a cartoon onto the stage. He wore his signature black t-shirt with his slogan, and red and baggy pants with matching red jordans. He swiped at the shaven sides of his head before hustling down to the ring. He hopped onto the apron, hyping up the crowd and doing another fast-feet shuffle before entering the ring. He was handed a microphone. Once he stepped to the center of the ring, his music cut and he looked around the arena.
Enzo Amore: My name is ENZO. AMORE.
The crowd cheered.
Enzo Amore: And I am a certified G, and a bonafide stud. And ya can’t teach THAT. HOW YOU DOIN’!
Whatever the fans did wasn’t enough. Enzo had to ask again.
Enzo Amore: Lafayette, Louisiana. I said… HOW YOU DOIN’?!
The crowd cheered again and that seemed just right.
Enzo Amore: That’s what I’m talkin’ bout. Ya know, it’s good to be back. It’s good to be here. It’s been too long. It’s a little too familiar to me though. Seems like things don’t change ‘round here in the E B W F!
Enzo started pacing around the ring, clearly getting pumped.
Enzo Amore: Ya got ya boy here tonight goin’ up against Jeff Hardy. Jeff Hardy! Boy oh boy… Jeff Hardy.
At mention of his name, there was noise for Hardy. Enzo stopped in his tracks and he opened his eyes wide, shaking his head.
Enzo Amore: Well BOY is right, ‘cuz this kid is sawft as spaghetti! This egghead is undercooked. If Jeff Hardy is a taco, he ain’t crispy. He’s SAWFT! S-A-W-F-T. SaaaaaAAAAAAWFFT!
Some people spelled it out with him, and a few others boo’ed him.
Enzo Amore: No no no hold up, you mean some of you people LIKE Jeff Hardy?
More cheering. Enzo audibly groaned and shook his head again, more furiously this time.
Enzo Amore: That ain’t right. Jeff Hardy wears more makeup than a guidette on New Year’s Eve. He got longer hair than my neighbors maltese. Tell me why Jeff Hardy colors his hair like Kylie Jenner?! That’s SAWFT! Tyga wouldn’t even hit that!... You know what I think, Jeff Hardy? I think I’ma make your ass my new personal football and punt it all the way back to the dandy candy shop you grew up in! See this here fist? I’ma use it to make your face like an oversauced pizza and POUND IT! And this bionic elbow is gonna turn your ribs to toothpicks for me to use when I grill ya so hard I turn ya into slow roast! And these feet are gonna knock your little kneecaps off and send’em rolling out the arena like some stale beignets! And ya CAN’T TEACH THAT! AHHHHHHH!
Enzo beat his chest a couple of times and his eyes bugged out.
Enzo Amore: Ain’t nothin’ about Jeff Hardy can top me. ‘Cuz he’s sawft like jelly and move like jam. And you know what that means? I’M A TOASTER AND HIS ASS IS TOASTED. Jeff looks like he sits back on the couch and sips on a glass of wine like a SISSY BOY. With his hair in a bun and toesies done. He needs to call up his buddies at his hotel to get the wine bottles ready in his room, because he’s gonna need’em for the sissy-boy book club he’s gonna join once I knock his shelves out. No number of books he reads is gonna save him from the textbook schoolin’ I’ma give him in this ring. Because just like Muhammad Ali I know where to hit'em, and BOY........ ya CAN’T TEACH THAT!
On those last three words he put emphasis by bringing an arm up and down each time.
Enzo Amore: BADA BOOM, REALEST GUY IN THE ROOM!
He punched the microphone out of his hand and stepped into his corner and threw his shirt into the crowd, ready to fight.
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The Warfare crowd was pumped as could be, on their feet with the official kick off of the show.
Music which had not been heard for some time rumbled through the arena. “SAWFT is a Sin” sounded off and after the instrumental intro, Enzo Amore shuffled energetically like something out of a cartoon onto the stage. He wore his signature black t-shirt with his slogan, and red and baggy pants with matching red jordans. He swiped at the shaven sides of his head before hustling down to the ring. He hopped onto the apron, hyping up the crowd and doing another fast-feet shuffle before entering the ring. He was handed a microphone. Once he stepped to the center of the ring, his music cut and he looked around the arena.
Enzo Amore: My name is ENZO. AMORE.
The crowd cheered.
Enzo Amore: And I am a certified G, and a bonafide stud. And ya can’t teach THAT. HOW YOU DOIN’!
Whatever the fans did wasn’t enough. Enzo had to ask again.
Enzo Amore: Lafayette, Louisiana. I said… HOW YOU DOIN’?!
The crowd cheered again and that seemed just right.
Enzo Amore: That’s what I’m talkin’ bout. Ya know, it’s good to be back. It’s good to be here. It’s been too long. It’s a little too familiar to me though. Seems like things don’t change ‘round here in the E B W F!
Enzo started pacing around the ring, clearly getting pumped.
Enzo Amore: Ya got ya boy here tonight goin’ up against Jeff Hardy. Jeff Hardy! Boy oh boy… Jeff Hardy.
At mention of his name, there was noise for Hardy. Enzo stopped in his tracks and he opened his eyes wide, shaking his head.
Enzo Amore: Well BOY is right, ‘cuz this kid is sawft as spaghetti! This egghead is undercooked. If Jeff Hardy is a taco, he ain’t crispy. He’s SAWFT! S-A-W-F-T. SaaaaaAAAAAAWFFT!
Some people spelled it out with him, and a few others boo’ed him.
Enzo Amore: No no no hold up, you mean some of you people LIKE Jeff Hardy?
More cheering. Enzo audibly groaned and shook his head again, more furiously this time.
Enzo Amore: That ain’t right. Jeff Hardy wears more makeup than a guidette on New Year’s Eve. He got longer hair than my neighbors maltese. Tell me why Jeff Hardy colors his hair like Kylie Jenner?! That’s SAWFT! Tyga wouldn’t even hit that!... You know what I think, Jeff Hardy? I think I’ma make your ass my new personal football and punt it all the way back to the dandy candy shop you grew up in! See this here fist? I’ma use it to make your face like an oversauced pizza and POUND IT! And this bionic elbow is gonna turn your ribs to toothpicks for me to use when I grill ya so hard I turn ya into slow roast! And these feet are gonna knock your little kneecaps off and send’em rolling out the arena like some stale beignets! And ya CAN’T TEACH THAT! AHHHHHHH!
Enzo beat his chest a couple of times and his eyes bugged out.
Enzo Amore: Ain’t nothin’ about Jeff Hardy can top me. ‘Cuz he’s sawft like jelly and move like jam. And you know what that means? I’M A TOASTER AND HIS ASS IS TOASTED. Jeff looks like he sits back on the couch and sips on a glass of wine like a SISSY BOY. With his hair in a bun and toesies done. He needs to call up his buddies at his hotel to get the wine bottles ready in his room, because he’s gonna need’em for the sissy-boy book club he’s gonna join once I knock his shelves out. No number of books he reads is gonna save him from the textbook schoolin’ I’ma give him in this ring. Because just like Muhammad Ali I know where to hit'em, and BOY........ ya CAN’T TEACH THAT!
On those last three words he put emphasis by bringing an arm up and down each time.
Enzo Amore: BADA BOOM, REALEST GUY IN THE ROOM!
He punched the microphone out of his hand and stepped into his corner and threw his shirt into the crowd, ready to fight.