05-16-2014, 10:57 PM
Taped on Wednesday (Prior to first promo)
We go inside of Gilmour Classic's sprawling two bedroom apartment and find the King of X-treme celebrating the only way he knows how: by eating spaghetti. Not only is the chicken parm king chowing down on some scrumptious mushroom flavor spaghetti, he's also watching his sexy fiance, Maria Brink, dance on the table that he's eating on. Careful, Maria! You don't want to accidentally knock over the King of X-Treme's pasta! In the background plays the song "Whore" by In This Moment-- Gilly's favorite track. Maria's got some serious moves on her as she grinds and shakes her ass for Gilmour Classic. She's wearing some stripper clothes that Gilly probably had his servant pick out at a thrift store, and her make up is smeared from crying her eyes out. Tears of joy of course.
GC: That's it. That's very sexy, my love.
Classy Gilly flicks a mushroom at her, and it thumps her on the breast. He giggles wickedly at the sight of it bouncing off her tit.
GC: Good job, my slave. Now, get down off of Poppa Gilly's table and refill my ice tea.
Maria steps down from the table and takes Gilly's glass of the table which contains only a few slivers of melted ice resting at the bottom. Maria does as she's told and walks away without saying a word.
GC: AHEM!
Oh shit. Maria forgot something... quite possibly the most important thing. She freezes right away and her dreary, tired gaze tells us that she knows she done fucked up. Oh my, Maria. What have you done to upset the King of X-Treme!?
GC: What did I teach you yesterday? Do I really have to remind you again?
Maria Brink: I'm sorry, sir. I forgot to say it. Please forgive me for my mistake.
GC: Forgot to say what? SAY IT NOW!
Maria Brink: "yes, my king."
GC: Good. You and the rest of my slaves better learn before I lose my patience with you. But I digress, I still must punish you for your disobedience. Come here now, you worthless piece of shit.
Maria hurries over to where Gilmour Classic is sitting with his foot now propped up on the table. Gilly reaches under his chair and reveals a whip. It's one of those whips that you use one horses or sex slaves like Maria Brink.
GC: Bend over, CUNT!
Maria Brink: Yes sir.
As expected, Gilmour Classic gives Maria a couple of lashings on her rear end. She now sports multiple red streaks across her ass. OUCH, hopefully Maria learned her lesson! GC sends her away crying, to fill up his cup of tea.
GC: You better remember how I like my tea, BITCH!
Maria Brink: Yes, my king!
GC: Owen!
Gilmour Classic screams for his manager Owen Octavious Carter who comes running into the room. He's short on breath as he speaks.
OOC: Yes, king?
GC: Did you send out the wedding invitations?
OOC: Yes, yes I did, sir.
GC: Excellent. Did you tell OzymandiASS to give me the night off so that I could focus on my wedding?
OOC: ...
GC: Owen?
OOC: Yes?
GC: I asked you a question!
OOC: Oh, right! Umm. I wasn't sure if you wanted to wrestle or not so I didn't say anything...
GC: ...
OOC: My apologies, let me check right now! Surely that pesky GM didn't book you without your permission.
GC: SURELY.
OOC pokes around on his smart phone until he manages to pull up the card for next Monday's show.
OOC: Oh no...
GC: What is it?
OOC: Sir, I am so sorry. I take full blame for this.
GC: WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?
OOC: I... You... You have a match.
Gilmour Classic kicks the table and the bowl of spaghetti flies into OOC's face.
GC: You've failed me, Owen!
OOC: I'm sorry, my king. I truly am. I deserve whatever punishment you give me.
OOC unbuckles his trousers and pulls them down to his nakles, suspecting that Gilmour Classic might want to dish out the same punishment that he gave Maria with the ass whipping.
GC: Pull your fucking pants up, you fool!
OOC: YES SIR! Sorry, sorry...
Gilmour Classic shakes his head in disgust. As OOC is redressing himself, Gilmour pick up his fork and throws it at him.
GC: Seriously? Just don't let that shit happen again. Next time say: "OUT." In fact, go make sure that I'm OUT for all those other shows.
OOC: Yes sir, will do!
GC: But first, you need to read to me the card. Surely the match is at the top of card and involves a championship seeing as how I just defeated the reigning European Champion and Superstar of the Month. Go on, read to me the match.
OOC: I'd rather not.
Owen looks like he's about to shit himself as Gilmour Classic sits up from his seat and yanks the phone out of Owen's hand.
GC: ...
Gilly looks over the card.
GC: ...
Not a word is muttered from Gilly after he's done reading it. He powers down the phone and gingerly places it into the coat pocket of OOC. He then pulls in OOC and whispers to him.
GC: Get out of my fucking sight, insect.
OOC: Yes sir...
Gilmour Classic takes a moment to reflect over the booking direction that XWF management seems to have gone. OzymandiASS' incompetence has been agitating the King of X-Treme lately. He shall give an official statement very soon.
We go inside of Gilmour Classic's sprawling two bedroom apartment and find the King of X-treme celebrating the only way he knows how: by eating spaghetti. Not only is the chicken parm king chowing down on some scrumptious mushroom flavor spaghetti, he's also watching his sexy fiance, Maria Brink, dance on the table that he's eating on. Careful, Maria! You don't want to accidentally knock over the King of X-Treme's pasta! In the background plays the song "Whore" by In This Moment-- Gilly's favorite track. Maria's got some serious moves on her as she grinds and shakes her ass for Gilmour Classic. She's wearing some stripper clothes that Gilly probably had his servant pick out at a thrift store, and her make up is smeared from crying her eyes out. Tears of joy of course.
GC: That's it. That's very sexy, my love.
Classy Gilly flicks a mushroom at her, and it thumps her on the breast. He giggles wickedly at the sight of it bouncing off her tit.
GC: Good job, my slave. Now, get down off of Poppa Gilly's table and refill my ice tea.
Maria steps down from the table and takes Gilly's glass of the table which contains only a few slivers of melted ice resting at the bottom. Maria does as she's told and walks away without saying a word.
GC: AHEM!
Oh shit. Maria forgot something... quite possibly the most important thing. She freezes right away and her dreary, tired gaze tells us that she knows she done fucked up. Oh my, Maria. What have you done to upset the King of X-Treme!?
GC: What did I teach you yesterday? Do I really have to remind you again?
Maria Brink: I'm sorry, sir. I forgot to say it. Please forgive me for my mistake.
GC: Forgot to say what? SAY IT NOW!
Maria Brink: "yes, my king."
GC: Good. You and the rest of my slaves better learn before I lose my patience with you. But I digress, I still must punish you for your disobedience. Come here now, you worthless piece of shit.
Maria hurries over to where Gilmour Classic is sitting with his foot now propped up on the table. Gilly reaches under his chair and reveals a whip. It's one of those whips that you use one horses or sex slaves like Maria Brink.
GC: Bend over, CUNT!
Maria Brink: Yes sir.
As expected, Gilmour Classic gives Maria a couple of lashings on her rear end. She now sports multiple red streaks across her ass. OUCH, hopefully Maria learned her lesson! GC sends her away crying, to fill up his cup of tea.
GC: You better remember how I like my tea, BITCH!
Maria Brink: Yes, my king!
GC: Owen!
Gilmour Classic screams for his manager Owen Octavious Carter who comes running into the room. He's short on breath as he speaks.
OOC: Yes, king?
GC: Did you send out the wedding invitations?
OOC: Yes, yes I did, sir.
GC: Excellent. Did you tell OzymandiASS to give me the night off so that I could focus on my wedding?
OOC: ...
GC: Owen?
OOC: Yes?
GC: I asked you a question!
OOC: Oh, right! Umm. I wasn't sure if you wanted to wrestle or not so I didn't say anything...
GC: ...
OOC: My apologies, let me check right now! Surely that pesky GM didn't book you without your permission.
GC: SURELY.
OOC pokes around on his smart phone until he manages to pull up the card for next Monday's show.
OOC: Oh no...
GC: What is it?
OOC: Sir, I am so sorry. I take full blame for this.
GC: WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?
OOC: I... You... You have a match.
Gilmour Classic kicks the table and the bowl of spaghetti flies into OOC's face.
GC: You've failed me, Owen!
OOC: I'm sorry, my king. I truly am. I deserve whatever punishment you give me.
OOC unbuckles his trousers and pulls them down to his nakles, suspecting that Gilmour Classic might want to dish out the same punishment that he gave Maria with the ass whipping.
GC: Pull your fucking pants up, you fool!
OOC: YES SIR! Sorry, sorry...
Gilmour Classic shakes his head in disgust. As OOC is redressing himself, Gilmour pick up his fork and throws it at him.
GC: Seriously? Just don't let that shit happen again. Next time say: "OUT." In fact, go make sure that I'm OUT for all those other shows.
OOC: Yes sir, will do!
GC: But first, you need to read to me the card. Surely the match is at the top of card and involves a championship seeing as how I just defeated the reigning European Champion and Superstar of the Month. Go on, read to me the match.
OOC: I'd rather not.
Owen looks like he's about to shit himself as Gilmour Classic sits up from his seat and yanks the phone out of Owen's hand.
GC: ...
Gilly looks over the card.
GC: ...
Not a word is muttered from Gilly after he's done reading it. He powers down the phone and gingerly places it into the coat pocket of OOC. He then pulls in OOC and whispers to him.
GC: Get out of my fucking sight, insect.
OOC: Yes sir...
Gilmour Classic takes a moment to reflect over the booking direction that XWF management seems to have gone. OzymandiASS' incompetence has been agitating the King of X-Treme lately. He shall give an official statement very soon.