The shot opens from above, and we see two people laying in bed with the sheets pulled up to their chests. It's.....Madison Dyson and Sean Waltman?!

Ew, ew, ew, ew!

Sean, looking particularly greasy, rolls over to face Madison. 'Sup babe. He reaches over to grasp her shoulder. Wanna go to Denny's?

Madison takes hold of his arm by the wrist, gingerly plucks it up, and drops it down back on Sean. Actually, never ever touch me post-sex and never call me “babe”.

Sean looks taken aback. Daaaayuuum, yo. That's cold shit. I'd tell you to SUCK IT, but you already diiiiiiiiiiiiid! He waggles his tongue at her and it's pretty gross.

Madison takes hold of the sheets to preserve what little modesty she has and rolls off the bed with them. The sheets pull of off Sean revealing that he is laying in bed wearing nothing but stained and worn tighty whities and a thin veneer of a mysterious film all over his skin.

Madison, bundled up in the sheets goes to the window and looks out at the beautiful Aspen mountain range in the distance. I can't believe I've sunk to this. Resorting to running to my chateau, having to abandon my home to my own client and his cult and the ghost of Jim Caedus. I got shit on by a , lost the Xtreme championship.....

Sean rolls over. Yeah babe, I was wondering about that. Like, that guy is an 80 pound palsy or some shit right? Why didn't you just kick out?

Madison turns towards him, looking annoyed. Would you believe technical issues?

Huh?

Never fuckin' mind. Madison turns back towards the window. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters.

Would now be a bad time to mention it's kinda burned when I pee the last few times? You may wanna get checked out....

Madison nods her head and smiles mirthlessly. She keeps nodding, trying to keep up appearances and keep the smile plastered on but soon the expression starts to falter. Her bottom lip trembles and the inevitable water works start to fall as she begins to blubber shamelessly. Sean scrambles up out of bed and the censors earn their pay because they catch one of Sean's nuts falling out the bottom of his underwear immediately and mercifully blur that shit. Aw damn, don't start cryin'!

Why shouldn't I?! Madison blurts out petulantly as Sean sidles up next to her. He goes to hug her but she glowers at him and he backs off. **Sniff** **Chortle** Every-**Sniff** Everything bad **blubber** ALWAYS happens to me!! **Snot** WHY? WHAT HAVE I DONE TO EARN THIS?!

Well you're kind of a cunt sometimes....

Madison elbows Sean in the stomach and he keels over onto the floor, choking like he's gonna hurl.

Fuck you!

It takes Sean a bit to recover and when he does he scoots back and leans up against the bed. But hey, that's why I think you're so hot!

Yeah, well your last girlfriend had a clitoris the size of a Crayola so what does that say about me? Madison grouses, making her way over to the bed and slumping down on it.

Hey babe, I got an idea that's sure to get you outta this funk!

Hopping back in time to before I handed you my key?

Nah, we deffo humped. No taksie-baksies on that one. But think about this, even though you don't have the Xtreme championship you're still stuck in a match with Jenny Myst at Leap of Faith, right?

Ayyyyup. She wipes away at some running mascara, which only smudges it more.

And what's our favorite thing to do?

Madison mulls it over a bit, and her expression softens. Make Jenny Myst suffer.

Sean turns to face her from the floor. You're goddamn right! And, I have it on good authority that Jenny cut a promo on you already so let's take this dumb ho down a few pegs again. Here...here's her promo.... Sean brings it up on Madison's phone and starts to hand it to Madison, but she waves it off.

No, no....I....I just can't with that right now. I can't subject myself to it. In fact, I already know what it is. Blah, blah, “insert generic mean girl shit”, blah, blah “perfection”, blah blah, “I run the show”. It's the same fucking shit every single time.

EVERY.

SINGLE.

TIME.

No wait, sometimes she includes some perverse jerk off material about how she was a sex slave because yes, that in the year of our lord 2018 makes for some solid female character development. That and the endless on again off again relationship tedium with Chris, which could only be considered “Must See TV” amongst the “missing a frontal lobe” set. Madison clutches the sheets closer to her, her face twisting into that....oh yeah baby, there it is....

Sean claps his hands together excitedly! He knows what's coming!

Madison turns to face the camera. IT'S ON LIKE DONKEY KONG! You know what bitch, I DO need this! Because when it boils right down to it, destroying you is the one thing in this entire world that I can reliably count on to make me happy. I'm not even watching your promos. None of them, you bint pustule. There is nothing you can possibly say that is damning enough to put you on a pedestal above me. Because, for as much as people HATE me....even now months after our last encounter they still just want you to GO AWAY!

You see Jenny, the thing you still don't understand is that shameless self promotion only works if you're actually good at it. Hyping yourself, giving yourself a brand, you see all that is only as good as your ability to catch eyes and make people pay attention.

No body is paying attention. No one cares.

No one cares about your relationship drama with Chris. Nobody cares about your dumb faction. No one even cared when Engy killed Erik “I Came From 4-Chan” Black on live television because that particular taint of total indifference is contagious and every member of....**snrkt**..... “Empire” has got a seriously bad case of it.

You are not respected around here. You're not even truly hated. You're just a joke. A chronically insecure snatch with a mouth, waltzing about and declaring yourself queen to the chirping of crickets and the complete indifference of literally EVERYONE. You try so, so hard to get yourself over and you fail at it and it drives you INSANE! You hope that by repeating the same lie, that you're “queen bitch” or “pink perfection” or whatever that eventually one day it'll become the truth. But you're oblivious to the fact that accomplishing that level of systemic propaganda relies on a certain level of charisma, talent, and intelligence that you are totally bereft of. So you continue to puke up the same hollow lies and make fun of people and exist within this sound proof bubble with Chris where you keep each other company in complete isolation from objective reality.

She takes a deeeeeeeep breath.

I know what you're gonna do after this too. You're gonna talk about how sad my life is now, how I've lowered myself to fucking X-Pac.... Sean looks like he's going to interject. Shut up Sean. And you know what, all of it will be true. Every bit. And I will STILL be right about you. I will still have cut deep down to the bone about what your problem is here and why you can't get the respect you deserve. And it won't fucking matter because you will persist in being this blithe, ignorant caricature of a human, you will still be desperate to be respected and you will still fail to punch above mid-card status because management knows how much you suck too. And everyone will continue to listen to my words and nod their head in agreement even though they all hate me because they know I'm right too.

How does that feel, huh? Knowing that you're too stupid or weak or shallow to make the changes that would really get you some serious play here. Knowing that you're caught up in an endless cycle of purposeless self promotion only for it to go absolutely nowhere because you're still too fucking stupid to understand that it takes more than just you saying you're amazing for you to actually BE amazing. Oh, and by the way, filling your promos with a bunch of boot licking toadies who play you up definitely doesn't count. And it's also an example of the same kind of promotional missteps that just end up making you seem fucking pathetic.

God you're just so awful in every conceivable way. Every single way. Just a complete nothing-burger of a person. It would be the stuff of reverse-legend if so much of it wasn't committed to video.

Come on Sean, let's make this a little bit more clear for the visual learners out there.

Madison stands up, still swaddled in sheets, and heads for the door. Sean stands up and watches the door curiously for a moment before it opens again and she walks right back in. I need clothes.

Go naked.

No. And your nutsack is hanging out.

DYSON PROMO PARODY PRODUCTIONS IS PROUD TO PRESENT..... JENNY MYST AND CHRIS CHAOS: A DISTILLATION

We reopen on a rather unusual sight. It's a large clear dome. The word “Empire” is painted on the top, but aside from that it's completely see-through.

Inside, we see Madison Dyson portraying Jenny Myst. That is to say, she's dressed up like a painted whore. Sean Waltman is dressed up like Chris Chaos, that is to say he's a walking C. Diff. shit with sun glasses.

Oh Chris, isn't it so wonderful in here where we are amazing and don't have to deal with anything remotely resembling reality? She intones theatrically.

Yeah, babe. Totally. But didn't we just break up again like five minutes ago?

Oh did we? I lost count. Maybe we shouldn't over rely on that to try to keep people interested in what we do.

I dunno, 4-Chan told me it was a good idea and Peter Gilmour seconded it so maybe we should keep running with it.

Oh, ok. Everyone who doesn't pay attention to us is a major cuck and probably a liberal anyway.

Careful, you're starting to sound like Madison!

Not really. When Madison does it it's funny. When I do it it just sounds like I spend all day lounging about on r/Trump railing about minorities because I actually just hate myself and my small balls and it's definitely more sad the way I do it. Wanna fill up the dome with our own farts and smell them?

DO I EVER!

Machines on the outside of the dome start to pump through a number of openings in the dome. Green gas starts to billow into the enclosed space. Chris/Sean runs up to the closest opening and inhales deep.

Uggggghhhhhh, yeeeeaaaaahhhhhh, we're so great.

Jenny/Madison does the same. She runs over to the same opening and starts using her hand to waft the scent of her own essence up into her face.

I'm so glad we decided to preserve our own farts like this Chris, so we could remind ourselves of how great we are.

We rule.

I'm Pink Perfection.

They both breathe deep again, taking in the foul stench. Just then, Jenny/Madison suddenly sours.

You know what though, I feel like this just isn't enough. I want it right from the source!

Totally know what you mean babe. Let's get the masks.

Chris/Sean suddenly pulls out two gas mask looking devices with hoses attached. He slides one on over his head and dips the end of his nose into the back of his pants. Then, he crouches down and lifts up on leg, cutting a massive juice fart. Naturally, the hose transfers his flatulence directly to his face. UGGGGHHHHH YEAH, IT'S SO GOOD! I AM THE ESSENCE OF CHAOS!

Jenny/Madison slides her mask on now, dipping the hose into her pants. Before long, she unleashes a feminine “poot” of a fart. Grasping the mask to hold it closer to her face, she gleefully partakes of her own product. Mmmmmm.....I can smell the “perfection”.

Chris/Sean cracks open a can of refried beans. He pulls his mask up just enough to shovel the beans into his mouth and swallow them. Returning the mask he picks his leg up again to spread his cheeks far enough for another biscuit. Oh baby, brewing up some SERIOUS chaos now! Ohhhhhh.....OHHHHHHHH!



Chris/Sean's eyes roll back in his head in sheer ecstacy! I'M CUMMING!



Hey guys, can I join in?!

Madison's eyes go wide with horror as Scat Bear enters stage left and the promo mercifully ends.