Date: Today
Time: Now
Scene: Here
Narrator: Me, the man known as The Narrator
Background music:
                                       




Welcome to the scene of Shane entering the ring with a man covered from head to toe in...




Come on, it's a Shane promo. What is somebody most likely to be covered from head to toe in? Think about it...




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... black ninja gear. What? Were you expecting something brown?

The man in black would of course be The Hired Gun! Let's assume they're in some sort of training center, perhaps?

Shane: Alright, come on over here and let me suplex you. Let's get me in tip top ring form for this big tag team match!

The Hired Gun walks over to Shane and lets him hook him for a suplex. Shane lifts but can't get him up. He takes a deep breath and tries again... and he does it! He gets him up vertically and holds him up there!

Shane: Oh hell yeah! I'm doing it! Stalling Suplex bitches!

But then when Shane drops back to complete the suplex, he forgets how close he was to the ropes behind him! Oh no! The back of Hired Gun's neck landed on the top rope, instantly springing him back up by the neck and sending him twirling through the air before landing on the floor outside of the ring where there was, of course, no padding whatsoever. ***CrAcKkK***

Shane: Uh oh...

A scientist runs up to Hired Gun and checks him out. He quickly gives Shane the thumbs up, but then looks confused for a second and changes it to a thumbs down.

Scientist: Ok so it looks like he's dead over here. You want me to bring him back to life?

Shane: Dead?!? He received ONE suplex. One. I've seen people get taken to suplex city and still walk out of the ring on their own two feet after, and this trained mercenary can't take ONE simple suplex?

Scientist: Ok so yeah your suplex was botched as hell. You snapped his neck across the top rope because you have no sense of ring awareness, Shane. This could be a problem come March Madness.

Shane: Riddle me this. Does the guy I suplexed have more energy or less energy now?

Scientist: Uh... what? Come again?

Shane: Does that dead Hired Gun down there at your feet have MORE or LESS energy right now than he did BEFORE I suplexed him?

The scientist ponders this with a look of concentration on his face that could easily turn to constipation if he thinks any harder.

Scientist: Ok so Shane? Something that's dead has no energy. Or not in the sense you mean anyway.

Shane: I mean like a physical energy bar. Like if we were in a fighting game or something.

Scientist: Right, I get that. I'm saying he...

Shane: Like how in Mortal Kombat each guy loses some of their "energy bar" each time they get hit.

Scientist: Again, I get it. I used to play MK1 in the Japanese arcades back when MK1 still had the original "multiple decapitated heads" glitch for Johnny Cage's fatality!

Shane: Woah! I thought his triple decapitation was only in MK2?!?

Scientist: Yes but in an early MK1 variant, you could keep rapidly doing the move again and again! T'was a glitch!

Shane: That's a lie.

Scientist: Nope. I'm a scientist.

Shane: And what about my original question?

Scientist: What original question?

Shane: Well, being the asshole you are, you accused me of BOTCHING that suplex! Then I asked you if the guy I suplexed has more or less energy after receiving my suplex.

Scientist: He's fucking dead, Shane. He doesn't have anything left in his imaginary energy bar, Shane. The only energies he will be emitting from this point forward are not energies one would carry into a wrestling ring, Shane.

Shane: Great! So, back to what you said about me botching that suplex...

Scientist: Yes, the botch is what killed this Hired Gun.

Shane: Wrong! The suplex was performed so perfectly that it delivered 100% damage to him! Brock Lesnar has to suplex guys a hundred times and they still live to tell the story but I suplex somebody one time and they're DONE! Sounds to me like Brock is the botch machine if everyone is surviving his suplexes!

The scientist shrugs and signals for some hunchback in a dirty brown robe to come and scoop the dead Hired Gun into a wheel barrel and add him to the pile in the corner.

Shane: And with that... We're gonna need another Hired Gun!

A door opens and another Hired Gun walks toward the ring and gets in. He and Shane exchange a friendly nod.

Shane: Alright now come over here and let me try out my torture rack on you. I plan to make everyone in the match at March Madness submit to my will!

The Hired Gun walks over to Shane, who hooks the arm and wedges his hand between Hired Gun's legs. He starts to lift but loses his footing and both men almost fall.

Shane: Dammit! Hold still! I'm still pretty winded after delivering that picture perfect suplex to the dead guy earlier.

Shane gets back into position and is ready to lift the Hired Gun up onto his back for the dreaded torture rack.

Shane: Alright now I'm going to need you to jump on the count of three. Ready? One... two... THREE!!!

The Hired Gun pushes himself up at the same time Shane starts to lift him... and it works! He's up there on Shane's shoulders!

UH OH!

Shane: Wooooaaaah!

Shane's long, uneasy "WooOooOoOoOoAaAah" echoes through the air as he wobbles and weaves around the ring trying to catch his footing. He still has Hired Gun up on his shoulders as he stumbles backward into the ropes and is gently pushed back toward the center of the ring where he finally stops!

Shane: Yes!

Shane is standing perfectly steady in the middle of the ring with the Hired Gun on his shoulders!

Shane: Torture Rack time baby!

Shane starts to apply pressure and bounce up and down in place, which IMMEDIATELY causes him to lose his footing again and he just ends up falling like a sack of potatoes and Hired Gun accidentally lands vertically head first! **CrAcKkK**

Shane shakes off the cobwebs and looks around. He sees Hired Gun's limp body with his head contorted in such a way that you'd think he had a broken neck or something.

Scientist: Ok so I can totally tell from here you killed him, Shane. Your botched torture rack just killed a man. Have you considered using a high-flyer moveset instead of power moves? Flippy moves are getting way more popular with fans anyway.

The Scientist looks down at Shane's legs.

Scientist: I mean, maybe your legs just aren't retaining enough strength to hold these guys in the air for long power moves...

Shane: I don't workout my legs, idiot. Hot men and women of today are all about a nice face and a sexy, popping chest. This is universal law, my friend. EVERY man and EVERY woman wants somebody with a nice face and a big chest.

Scientist: I thought you had work done on your face costing upwards of 5 mil, and also had pec implants to give you that popping chest? Did I hear wrong?

Shane: You heard right.

Scientist: So one might be more accurate to say you just don't workout at all, right Shane?

Shane: Like I said. I don't workout my legs.

Scientist: Or anything else, no?

Shane raises his voice and changes the subject...

Shane: ALRIGHT, SO IS THIS GUY DEAD OR WHAT?

Shane kicks the body of the Hired Gun over toward the scientist, who takes one glance and confirms with certainty...

Scientist: Oh yeah. For sure. He's been dead since the second you dropped him on his h...

...but Shane doesn't let him finish. He grabs him by his lab coat and pulls him to the middle of the ring.

Shane: Alright good! Then you can help with my next move since all the Hired Guns are dead now!

Camera pans over to the corner where, indeed, a pile of about 42,083 Hired Guns are just all stacked and decaying, covered in piss and shit and semen.

Scientist: Wait! Nooooo! I'm not trained for this!

Shane: Don't worry. I AM!

Shane Irish whips the scientist to the ropes and on the rebound catches him with a picture perfect back body drop! That was sweet! 10 out of 10!

Oh wait.

Shane didn't have enough "pop" in his hips when he propelled the scientist up and over himself, so what happened? Yup. ***CrAcKkK*** You guessed it. Scientist ended up landing head first off a back body drop because he wasn't in the air long enough to end up landed on his back. He's obviously dead as...

Shane: Fuck! Why is it so hard to find sparring partners these days? They all die after one hit!

Shane looks around for anyone else willing to get in the ring with him. He points to the distance...

Shane: You there! You know how to wrestle?

The camera shifts, getting behind Shane as we now see in the distance just who he is pointing at...

An entire army of Hired Guns.

They all line up and one by one get in the ring with Shane so he can practice his moves...

botchplex

dead

botch rack

dead

botch kick

dead

botch punch

dead

botch cutter

dead

botch potato

dead

botch bucklebomb that would make Seth Rollins proud

dead

botch condom

pregnant

...and so on, and so on, and so on.

The audio of the scene cuts out and the picture fades just a bit. We continue seeing an endless army of Hired Guns getting into the ring to get botched by Shane and killed, but what we HEAR is Shane's voice because it's time to cut that promo...

When I heard Robbie Bourbon wanted a 6 on 1 handicap match, I thought I'd throw a team together and help supply FOUR of those opponents for him.

Yet here we have a man who, after requesting to take on SIX foes, immediately shat the bed and REMOVED himself from the entire goddamn pay per view the moment he saw Shane , Peter Gilmour, Hired Gun, and Hired Gun.

FOUR guys made him run away despite him having asked for SIX guys. Is Robbie the smartest man alive for realizing he stands no chance against any team I assemble, or is he simply the biggest coward on the planet? Answer: He's fat. HAHAHA!

So that brings us to the NEW match my team ended up in, which appears to be another one of the XWF staff's famous random bookings that leave people scratching their heads. I guess the staff figured these four dopes would somehow be able to fill the GIANT void left by Robbie, or perhaps they wanted to insult Robbie by showing him he's only equal to the likes of...
Red X
Brian Storm
Kieran Overton
and Phantom Panzer
So tell me, XWF? Which one of them is supposed to be the fucking brain? I mean we obviously have Kieran Over-A-Ton (haha nice name fat ass!) easily taking up the role of Robbie's big ass fucking belly, and we have Phantom Panzer CLEARLY making up the ass hole that all the shit pummels out of at an alarming rate, right? Oh, and I guess Brian can be the hands, since all he does is pack bowls and play Texas Holdem...

But FUCK!

You know where that leaves us as far as who is the brain?!?

HAHAHA OH MY GOD THAT LEAVES RED X TO BE THE BRAIN!!!!

HAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Man, I wish I could start making fun of Red X promos right now but I'll be damned if I can even tell you what the fuck's happening in ANY of them EVER! I once turned on a Red X promo and woke up naked in a swamp with cocaine all over my dick!

Yeah! No shit!

All you other people like to talk about how BORING so-and-so's promos are. Blah blah, this guy's promo put me to sleep. That guy's promo made me yawn something fierce. This other guy's promo could be a new way to medically induce a coma.

BUT WHEN HAVE ANY OF YOU GUYS EVER WOKE UP NAKED IN A FUCKING SWAMP WITH COCAINE ALL OVER YOUR DICK AFTER WATCHING SOMEBODY'S SHITTY PROMOS?!?!? That's a Red X promo for you. DON'T DO IT! Don't turn them on, whatever you do!

Can Brian, Kieran Over-A-Ton, and Fagtom Panzy Boy possibly make up for the hopeless abomination that has been named their HEAD?!?

Brian! Just tell these losers to kill themselves and kick them all in the balls for me. Don't waste your time with the likes of these losers.

For those of you that don't know, I actually like Brian! Not too long ago, I tried to help him win a match by inserting myself as a special "prop" in the match. It was a really sexy match; I'll just leave it at that.

What about you, Phag Panzy? What can I possibly say to you? You're obviously going to come into this match thinking your weirdo clown powers are going to help you, but guess what? We bring powers that are a lot fuckin' weirder! Don't you even THINK of teleporting during our match, or pulling some ugly fucking clown pie demon hybrid out of an alternate dimension to throw in my face. I. WILL. EAT. YOU. if you even think of any of that. My fucking jaws will dislodge, allowing my entire mouth to fit around your ugly ass big head, and I'll lay there in the ring for like an hour just slowly gulping you down inch by inch. Try me.

That leaves us with Kieran Fat Fuckin' Loser I Weigh Over A Ton. Wow, what a FAT name you have! It almost took me this entire promo to even say it! But what can I say about you that has nothing to do with you willingly advertising what a fat piece of trash you are every time you sign a contract? No, really... what can I say about you? Help me out. Literally all I know about you is that you look like Peter Gilmour from 8 years ago. It's weird... because before he lost all that weight and became the SEX GOD he is, he literally looked exactly like you! You guys could have been twins, and both had some serious chicken parm eating contests. Yet here we are in 2020 and Gilmour has the physique of Mr. Olympia, and you have the physique that makes the staff want to put you in as a replacement JUST for Robbie Bourbon's fat ass gut.

Do you still have that baseball bat I gave you a few months ago, Kieran? Do you remember that? Can you do me a favor and do 1 of 2 things with that bat?

Either take that bat and smash your own skull in with it

Or take that bat and gently fuck my ass with it next Sunday night

Now with that said... I've got work to do.

A new scene opens up...

Shane is seen in the washroom brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed. He takes out his pec implants and lets them soak in their trays. He reaches up to his face but then notices the camera and freaks out!

Shane: Turn that fucking thing off right now! You saw nothing!

*clunk*

Could swear that was a body part Shane just lobbed toward the camera before it cut! WTF?