Our scene opens as we see Shane sitting at a table with two men playing five card draw. They're all holding cards in their hands peering at each other as they take turns tossing stacks of money into the center of the table betting and calling each other. The amount of money in the center of the table is staggering and more than most people will ever see in a lifetime. Finally the men stop tossing money at each other. It’s all over except showing their hands, the first man lays his cards down on the table, full house jacks and 10s. The second man lays his cards down on the table, 4 Aces. Both men now turn their attention to Shane who gets ready to lay his cards out on the table but is suddenly interrupted by a scientist walking over in a white lab coat.

Scientist: Sorry to interrupt Mr. however I just wanted to let you know that I’ve taken care of that little “problem” you told me about.

Shane: You found out how many licks it takes to get to the tootsie roll center of a tootsie pop?

Scientist: No… No… The other problem.

Shane: You found out which neighborhood John Black lives in so I can buy up all of the property with the intention of taking advantage of his people when I can fix everything up and sell it at such a high price only rich white people can afford it thus further extending systematic racism through gentrification?

Scientist: As much as I like ethnically cleansing ghettos across america economically, no, the other problem.

Shane: OH! You fixed the vending machine?

Scientist: Yes sir.

Shane: Top notch work, that’s why you make the big bucks. Anything else?

Scientist: Well sir to be honest I have been thinking about your decision to use the O.G. Hired Gun’s services in spite of the reprogramming complications we had with him. He really can’t be trusted sir, he’s way too… Unpredictable.

Shane :Ha! People like you don’t understand his contribution to my plans.. You think of O.G. Gun’s unpredictability as a weakness but you fail to see the big picture. First of all the guy keeps his balls dry and his eye on the prize. Multiple eyes on the prize. Multiple multiple eyes on the prize. As far as brain scrambled maniacal hired muscle goes, the guy is a class act. Every card has value, you just have to know how to use a card to its full potential. The O.G. Gun is my wild card that can flip the odds in my favor on his own. Take this game of cards for example. My friend over here with four of a kind thinks he has my nuts in a vice grip but he has no idea what I’m holding in my hand!

Shane throws down four draw four cards.

Shane: UNO MOTHERFUCKERS!

Both of the men sitting at the table are now visibly angry.

Man#1: What kind of shit are you trying to pull here?

Man#2: We’re going to make you pay for this!

The two men stand up and get ready to approach Shane but before they have the chance, both of them get hit in the neck with tranquilizer darts. As they collapse to the ground The Hired Gun emerges from the shadows whistling and twirling his tranquilizer gun. Shane looks at the scientist and points at THG.

Shane: THAT! Is how you use a wild card. Those tranquilizers work a lot faster than I remember though.

THG: Actually I couldn’t find the tranquilizers you were talking about so I made my own.

Shane: What the hell did you put in them?

THG: Roofies and hand sanitizer.

Shane laughs.

Scientist: Wait, you put hand sanitizer in the darts?

THG: Yeah, can’t be too careful. That Rona is going around.

Scientist: You’re not serious right? That will probably kill them!

THG shrugs at Shane, Shane shrugs at THG.

Shane: Wild card.

We fade to black with the scientist clearly distressed by the entire situation.



Kickin It With The O.G.



It’s me, it’s me, it’s the O.G. HG with ADHD and 19 INCHES OF COVDICK! That’s right, my dick causes mass hysteria, an overwhelming need to stockpile toilet paper, and has a 1% mortality rate! You know upon further review I should probably get that checked out. I’ll stop in and see Shane’s laboratory guys later. I think they owe me one at this point for always trying to tell me what to do. “Don’t drink that it’s sulfuric acid”. “Don’t mix those two chemicals together, it creates a poisonous gas”. “Stop using the laser to heat up your lunch”. Blah, blah, blah, I’M A GROWN ASS GENETICALLY MODIFIED INSTRUMENT OF DESTRUCTION! The Hired Sword never had to put up with mouthy scientists and my butt looks twice as good as hers!


Anyway, ANYWAY! I’m just getting started and this shit has gone so far off the rails that I’m in the middle of the fucking ocean. Now, let me do the opposite of a Phantom Panzer promo and try to make an effort to say something semi meaningful. At March Madness I have been booked in a match. Boom! Mission accomplished, topped OPP. Now for extra credit I will even go more in depth. Yay efficiency! But I digress. I digress so much. Muy digression por favor.

It will be myself, Shane , Peter F’n Gilmour, and The Hired Gun II Electric Boogaloo Vs Aunt Flo, Brain Storm, Kiwi Ovaries, and OPP. What else can be said other than ya gotta start somewhere? Well for Shane, Gilmour, el hijo de my ballsack, and I, WE ARE STARTING AT THE MF’N BOTTOM! Seriously the only way we could start any lower than this is if we actually dug up the bodies of Famine of the Vile and Cyren for a match. Those guys are currently dead right? If not it’s totally going to fuck up my metaphor but I don’t care enough to actually look it up. Plus they’ve been dead so many times it really does it really fucking matter anymore?

What does matter is the well oiled machine of a team that Shane put together getting to take on this rag tag bag of cunt rags nobody expects to even put up a real fight against us. To team Cunt Rag, let me give you some advice. Don’t beat yourself up about it, everybody can’t be the star of the movie. Everybody can’t be Michael Jordan or Lebron James. However, what is a movie without background characters? I mean can you imagine a Batman movie without somebody to play important roles like Thug, Human Punching Bag, or Effeminate Loser? Can you imagine a Michael Jordan poster without some poor chump for him to dunk on? THIS IS THE SAME SHIT! Just imagine it like this, Shane brings the ball up court and passes it to me just in time for me to jump so high that my balls bounce right off OPP’s eye sockets while I one hand windmill dunk all over that mongoloid motherfucker. My nips are harder than an algebra test written in braille just thinking about it!
Can anybody name one advantage that team Cunt Rag has over team Big Dick Glory? Well? Go ahead, explain to me who is going to carry that fucking team to victory. Aunt Flo? OPP? Brain Storm? Kiwi Ovaries? WHO? As good as I am, if I switch sides and try to carry that team to victory in this match I’d probably break my damn back! Sit back, relax, get down on your knees, and let me smack all of you in the face with my enormous veiny dick of logic. TEAM CUNT RAG DOESN’T EVEN KNOW WHO THEY’RE FUCKING WITH!

Literally, team Cunt Rag has no idea who I am and they have no idea who Hired Gun II: The Sequel is. That’s 50% of Team Panic at the Dicksco! Now normally in a match you got a 50/50 chance of winning. However then you add in the fact that team Cunt Rag has no idea who 50% of team Tallywhacker Titans are. So, they immediately lose the 50% chance of winning that they had. Next you add in the genius that is Shane and their 0% chance of winning drops down to 0% again. So, that means that you have to multiply their 0% chance of winning by the 0% chance of winning that Shane adds to the equation and that brings team Cunt Rag to 00% chance of winning! THAT’S TWO TIMES THE ZEROES! Now if you take that double zero percent and you subtract the amount of big dick energy that Peter Gilmour brings to the match and you have…..

*The Hired Gun’s cell phone starts ringing and he quickly answers it.*

THG: Boss?

Shane: No math!

THG: How did you know? This promo isn’t even ready for editing yet!

Shane: I have my ways, now no math!

THG: But I’m making a super valid point and smacking them in the face with my enormous veiny logic cock.

Shane: Do you remember what happened the last time you did math?

THG: You promised never to talk about that….

Shane: Do you remember the villagers’ screams OG? DO YOU REMEMBER?

THG: I hear them every time I go to sleep.

Shane: Good! NO MATH!

THG: Fine….

*The Hired Gun hangs up his cell phone.*

Well trust me when I say that Shane just saved you pussies from the most enormous uncircumcised mandingo dick of logic beat down in the history of the world. I’m talking like the equivalent of getting beaten down with a sock full of pool balls. That’s how bad shit was about to be for ya’ll. However my personal lord and savior Shane used divine dick intervention to spare you for now. He works in mysterious ways, can I get an amen? I SAID CAN I GET AN AMEN! Now as benevolent as Shane may be, don't think for one second that what you received today was a full pardon. OH HIZZELL NO! ADMIRAL APPENDAGE SAID HIZZELL NO! All Shane did for you pole smokers was grant you a stay of execution.


Seriously guys this entire match can be summed with one song, I think I can beat Mike Tyson. Perhaps I just confirmed just how much of an old fucker that I am with that reference. Perhaps I just confirmed just how terrible my taste in music is by even remembering that song. But you know what? Just like that time I took Brain Storm's mom back to my hotel and stuck a 2 liter bottle in her ass, IT JUST FITS! No matter what you cock goblins say or do, no matter how much you try to convince yourself and everybody else that you stand some sort of chance in this match. At the end of the day you've got about as much of a shot at beating us as Will Smith had of beating Mike Tyson. AND THAT'S THE BOTTOM LINE BECAUSE THAT HIRED BOY WITH THE BIG OL DICK SAID SO!

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