"What the fuck are we doing here?"

"This beer tastes like amniotic fluid."

"I need to find some fucking food."


Samuels: "What the fuck is a chicken curry pie?"

The young woman behind the counter begins to open her mouth but Samuels waves his hand in front of her face, shutting her up.

Samuels: "If it tastes anything like your beer I assume I'm better off taking a look at your teeth, vomiting in my mouth, and chewing on that for a few minutes instead. Where's the nachos? The pizza? The goddamn cold beer?"

Abe: "It's England, son. They don't be believin' in that shit. Ain't got no guns, ain't got no dental insurance...surprised these niggas ain't communicating via cave paintings still."

Samuels: "How would a buffalo say 'pip pip, cheerio?'"

Abe: "Probably with a mouthful of Earl Gray and an unhealthy obsession with watching 'footy' on the 'tele.' Motherfuckers might as well be speaking Norwegian. It's like when your crack addicted nephew Earl Jr. be tryin' to tell you how to get to the weed man's crib. Niggas just don't make no goddamn sense."

A large, drunken man stumbles into Samuels and grins widely. He lifts a beer to his lips and points to Samuels, staggering. The man grabs a hold of his own jersey and then slaps Samuels on the shoulder.

Drunken Charlton fan: "Oye mate, where's your fucking jersey!?"

Samuels: "Oye mate, where are your fucking bicuspids? You look like you've been chewing on black mold and horse shit.

Drunken Charlton fan: "Oye what the fuck did you say to me, you fuckin' wog?"

Samuels: "Wog? It's like trying to decipher the bullshit that leaks out of Crimson Dong's mouth with you fucking neanderthals. How do you people not speak decent English when you're from the country that it was literally named after? Now I'm not a big fan of stereotypes--

Abe begins to snicker.

Samuels: "--but everything I've heard about you tea sipping pussies has been pretty fucking spot on. The language. The teeth. The lack of bulge in the front of your pants that Abe pointed out to me.

Abe: "Nigga I said that shit in confidence!"

Samuels: "Yeah well I'm pretty confident that you're a ."

"Now look here, my big Britch friend, I'm not here to watch soccer and stuff my face with shit beer and food that looks like it plopped out of a pig's asshole. I'm here to find Steve Davids. If there's one place to find a brainless piece of British shit, it's a soccer match I figure.

Drunken Charlton fan: "It's fucking football you stupid yank. You think you can come into our bloody house and disrespect our fucking game!?"

Samuels: "Game? It's a bunch of chasing a ball around a field and not scoring. I bet that could sum up Steve Davids' teenage years pretty well actually."

Drunken Charlton fan: "Did you say Steve Davids? I better never hear that name come out of your mouth again. Steve Davids is a national treasure!"

Samuels: "Steve Davids is a national treasure!? Christ, what else do you people hold dear to you, half-drunken bottles of soy sauce and dollar store flip-flops? What a sad fucking life you all live. When your chief fucking exports are that gook Neonero and that piece of garbage Steve Davids, you should maybe consider packing up all your shit and moving somewhere slightly more respectable like New Jersey, or that alley behind Jerry's Sandwich Shop that always smells like urine and chloroform.

Visibly disgusted, the drunk fan leans back and swings at Samuels. Samuels easily dodges the man who goes flying past, his momentum carrying him into a group of fans who all boo and begin shoving the man. Soon after, punches are being thrown by the entire crowd. Samuels and Abe look on as several other sections off fans take notice and soon after begin brawling. Pandemonium erupts as soon the entire stadium are engaged in fights. The two make their way down the steps toward the field, casually sidestepping several different fights spilling into the aisle ways.

Samuels: "What a bunch of classless dipshits. And we're allied with these assholes? Cool. Hey Britain, whenever America needs it's nose powdered you guys will be our first call."

Abe: "I bet you this is what Florida would be like if it ever became it's own country. Bunch of inbreds fighting over piss beer and sports teams nobody gives a fuck about."

Samuels and Abe reach the field, which has been cleared by both teams. Abe hands Samuels a microphone out of his jacket pocket and gives him a thumbs up. Samuels taps the mic against his hand three times, eliciting a loud banging noise each time over the speakers. The crowd remains un-phased as Samuels looks about at the various melees. Samuels taps the mic with his hand a few more times, the result remaining the same. Abe snatches the mic away from Samuels angrily and raises it to his mouth.

Abe: "Real Madrid is the best squad in the world and Kate Middleton looks like that nasty white grease shit that hangs off the bottom of prepackaged beef jerky."

The crowd all stops and begins booing as Abe hands the microphone back over to Samuels with a smile on his face.

Samuels: "Right. Well, now that I have your undivided attention I would just like to say it is a great honor to stand before all of you loyal soccer fans--"

The fans all begin to boo and chant 'football! football!'

Samuels: "Oh yeah, I forgot you ignorant pieces of shit call it 'football' over here. This ain't football. Football is grown men beating the living fuck out of each other in the greatest spectacle the world has seen. No, what you guys are all watching is a bunch of tofu eating vegans chase a fucking ball around like a group of fairies looking for watermelon flavored vodka and a foam party. This isn't a fucking sport. And you're not real fucking fans. A real fan cheers on his team because he's willing them to win. What are you all cheering on? These fucking fanny bandits aren't going to win shit. England will never win a war. Miss England will never win Miss Universe. Steve Davids will never beat John Samuels."

"Go ahead and take that last one right to the bank. Now I don't know if they have fancy things like Pay-Per View over here in this shithole country, but if by some miracle you mongrels can find a way to tune in to Turning Point this weekend, I'll give you something to cheer about: John Samuels repeating history. America destroying England and claiming what is rightfully it's property. This time, it just so happens to be Steve Davids' Universal Championship. And I'm aware that England's educational system makes it literally impossible for you single-celled dipshits to comprehend the scope of what's about to happen, so please allow me to break it down for you: Saturday, Steve Davids proves once and for all that England is nothing more than a dingleberry that feverishly clings to the glorious ass hair of the United States. The 'Psycho Sensation' of yours is just another bloated piece of shit on the XWF roster who, for some reason, has a better rack and head of hair than the bulldykes that scurry around backstage and pop up every once in a while to remind us that the XWF is still prone to boring the fuck out of it's viewers. Steve Davids is nothing. He arrived in this company very shortly after I did and has managed to accomplish a fraction of what I have. Before Davids cashed in on my friend Theo, like the coward he is, nobody remembered he even existed. I've personally beat Davids in the ring before and even I had to do a double take to try to recall who the fuck he was. Now me? I'm different. I bet if you polled the rest of the XWF locker room as to who they thought was the best wrestler in the company, John Samuels is going to be on every single one of their lists. I'm no flash in the pan, I'm a living, breathing, legend. When I've decided that the XWF is no longer a place where I enjoy dominating, my legacy will live on. I'll never be forgotten. John Samuels will be forever engraved into the annals of the XWF. Steve Davids is just another footnote, a transitional champion whose darkest days are are rapidly approaching."

"Davids, I sincerely hope that you're listening to me right now because this message is just for you: Steve, you matter as much to me as a new STI matters to Vinnie Lane. I've seen you come in and get your ass kissed about how you've 'grown' and how people act like you're a legitimate superstar. They're lying to you, Steve. You should slap each and every one of them in their fat, lying faces; because you're Steve Davids, and you're still just as big of a piece of shit today as you were when you first stepped foot in the XWF--immediately wowing everyone with your commitment to being a lethargic asshole with no real aspirations. And then you go and shock the world by cashing in your briefcase on Theo, finally realizing your dream of becoming the XWF champion. And what did you after that? You got carried in a tag team match before slinking off into some unknown corner of hell to sit and patiently wait for someone to come take the title off your undeserving hands. That day is coming Steve. It's coming and you cannot stop it. At Turning Point, I'm going to bury your ass, take your title, and show everyone exactly why Steve Davids is such a forgettable piece of shit. Consider this your warning. Drink all the tea you can. Throw some shrimp on the barby. Hug all your stuffed teddy's and tel them goodnight, because once I'm done with you Davids you're going to be 6 feet under praying to Jesus himself that when he reincarnates you, you get to come back half as cool as John Samuels."

"But don't be too disappointed if he can't. The man created the galaxy and all the living organisms inside it, sure, but making you anything like me? Even he's got his limits Davids."

With a smile and wave, Samuels drops the mic in the center of field. Just then the crowd start howling like a group of monkeys and throw bananas onto the field. The bananas cover the field as Samuels and Abe do their best to avoid them, however one catches Abe square in the forehead and knocks him to the ground. Samuels begins laughing as the hail of fruit ceases and he lifts Abe to his feet.

Samuels: "Don't you worry, England, I'll give you something to howl about."

1X - GOAT.