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Prof. Bobby Bourbon · **12-03-2015, 04:42 PM**

Oh, no no no no no, not in this lifetime.

Maverick, if you don't want me talking about it, I don't have to. I can pull up actual footage. Maverick is poop guy, that's a fact. As for your threat, stud, save yourself the time and effort. It'll be damned hard for you to keep a hold of that Hart Championship with a pair of broken arms. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure the XWF universe would be ticked pink to watch you wiggle your useless limbs about trying to grasp a belt that was literally pooped on.

Peter, you don't have a dick. You are the dickless wonder, as in even Maria is wondering what the fuck you're thinking when you say you've been layin' pipe. And shove a size 15 boot right down my mouth? Stud, you already entered into something more than you bargained for when you and your goofy bald shitsucker buddy, goes by the name of Dim for those not antiquated, challenged me to come into your House of Hell, now you're just pulling the devil's tail. I don't have to lay down threats, slick, you just make the call right the fuck now; do you want me to leave you paralyzed or comatose?

And shit, Vince, why can't any decent fucking people ever show up? Hell, I come 'round and introduce myself, cordially might I add, and you jump down my shit harder than you do people who actually want to kick your ass? Well, message received. Your mother must be mighty proud of the Little Asshole she raised. Know what? You aren't even Vince anymore. You're Mommy's Little Asshole. Clean shaven, cute as a button, but still full of shit. Take a fucking deep breath, count to ten, and maybe reconsider your rejection of my hospitality. If not, I'll make you dance, stud.

Edit: For the benefit of those watching in Stereo

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