A stagehand was seen backstage, headset on, running around rounding up talent as the Royal Rumble match was about to begin. He had several papers in hand, passing them out. He approached Brodus Clay flanked by the Funkadactyls and handed him a paper. He tried to move on but Brodus stopped him.
Brodus Clay: Excuse me, sir? Umm...where exactly do we get, uh...funky?
Stagehand: What? You mean dance? Brodus, there are 30 entrances. We can't have you dance.
Brodus Clay: WHAT?!
Brodus looked to both Cameron and Naomi. Eyes huge.
Brodus Clay: WHAT?!
Brodus then turned over the nearest table in a rage.
Brodus Clay: No dancing at the ROYAL RUMBLE! Ain't nobody got time for that!
The ladies consoled Brodus as the stagehand went on his merry way.
Funky's on a Rumble...
Funky's on a Rumble...
Writers aren't exactly people. They're a whole bunch of people. Trying to be one person.
The only living, breathing, Queen of Efeds in captivity
"You can't blame a writer for what the characters say." - Truman Capote
