Post by Deleted on Jun 25, 2006 15:26:09 GMT -5
The camera turns on, and Al Laiman is sitting on a set, obviously mocking Dr. Phil's daily show. Laiman is wearing a fake bald head and has on a suit with mismatching pants and a tie that is very badly clashing the undershirt.
LAIMAN: Hello all you people out there with nothing better to do at 3PM than watch basket-cases spew their problems to a total stranger. Today on "Daytime with Dr. Laiman", our special guest is the PCW North American champion Non Compos Mentis, but before we get to that, I'd like to go to my correspondent for the evening, Joey Cranston.
A split screen shows up, and Joey Cranston is standing in front of a green screen that is depicting a ferocious blizzard.
CRANSTON: It's certainly a mess out here, Al. Schools have been cancelled, and roads have been closed. It's mildly resemblant of Hell on the day NCM won the North American title again.
LAIMAN: That's great and everything, but why are you doing a weather report on a daytime talk show?
CRANSTON: Because I can?
LAIMAN: Good enough. So what do you got for me?
CRANSTON: I've managed to stop a few of the citizens out here trying to get back to their homes before the snow got too deep, and asked them what they thought of the huge match between Al Laiman and Non Compos Mentis. Three people pretended not to hear me, five walked a way a little faster, one guy pulled out a gun, three called the police, and I'm not sure but I think one of them said "you're actually asking us a question about Non Compos Mentis at a time like this." So the basic response is, apathy in a snowstorm, apathy in a snowstorm, what can I say? Back to you.
LAIMAN: Thank you for that completely irrelevant report, Joey. I'll have to ask him where he went that it's snowing in June. Now, let's bring out our guest, the two-time North American Champion, Non Compos Mentis!
B Styles comes out, overbearingly dressed as NCM. He’s dragging a trash can behind him.
NON COMPOS STYLES: Thank you for having me, Al.
LAIMAN: Now NCM, I am a doctor in the arts of decipheridiocy, and I've noticed that recently you've had quite a few issues with Moroneosis Syndrome.
NON COMPOS STYLES: Well this is true, Al. Ever since the days where I had to start living in this here trash-can, it’s really all been downhill. Sure I won the PCW North American title, but let's face it… no one really noticed. Then these guys from this place called HHW started signing with PCW, and I don’t know… I just can’t seem to beat any of them! Even this guy Kri who was only here for two weeks! Then I lost to the former HHW champion Lantlas, who’s now the PCW champion too! And now I’m going to be embarrassed in the Hardcore Hell match against you! But hey, at least I beat Benjamin Banks for this here North American title! That's some serious competition, man!
LAIMAN: Did you just call Benjamin Banks serious competition?
NON COMPOS STYLES: Of course I did! Boss told me he wasn’t sure which one of us tanked the ratings that badly, but it was damn close!
Laiman smacks Non Compos Styles over the back of the head.
LAIMAN: You say that one more time and I'll have you jobbing to Blade for eternity, you schizophrenic bastard!
NON COMPOS STYLES: I'm sorry Al, but the voices in my head told me that I really have to beat you in order to regain some credibility around here.
LAIMAN: See, I knew it. You're showing the first symptoms Moroneosis, or as I like to call it for short, Neo. You've clearly been overestimating your abilities as a wrestler, and you truly believe you can compete with a superstar of my stature! You poor delusional boy!
NON COMPOS STYLES: But I can, Al! I mean, sure I never faced you, but I've won... matches before.
LAIMAN: If you say Benjamin Banks again, I will smack you with a giant inflatable baseball bat.
NON COMPOS STYLES: What will that do?
Laiman hits him with a giant inflatable bat.
LAIMAN: Deflate your ego, dammit!
NON COMPOS STYLES: Hey, YOUR ego is the one that needs deflating! You had to cut your career short and become a manager at twenty-six!
LAIMAN: Oh, NCM, you stupid little bastard… So fednocentric, are we not? Did it ever occur to you that just because I’m managing in the PCW that I might not be competing other places, or does your frail little mind only expand so far as the PCW roster?
NON COMPOS STYLES: Hey, STOP MAKING FUN OF ME!
LAIMAN: Hey, you do a better job of making fun of you than any of us could just by existing.
Laiman is about to hit Non Compos Styles with the BURNOUT! when the screen shows the crowd, and a voiceover comes over.
VOICEOVER: If you would like tickets to "Daytime with Dr. Laiman", admission is fifty cents for women and thirty-eight dollars for fans of NCM. If you would like to make reservations, please call 1-900-N-O-L-I-F-E-I, extension H-A-V-E.
The scene goes to a commercial, and Al Laiman is in a cheap suit.
LAIMAN: Say, get one now, everybody has one, they're almost gone! They're durable, inflatable, bilingual, sexy, and compatible, get one now! They won't go bad, break, stain, or smell, but they might kill you.
...
LAIMAN: Here are some notes of community interest: Signups for the Blind People's Golf Tournament will take place in a downtown street corner. Events for the visually unimpaired who will accompany their friends just because they feel bad about themselves will include desert boating, boulder frisbee, AIDS bullfighting, and the latest X-rated sport from California, roller-fucking.
...
LAIMAN: Come on down to Stan's Department store, where we're selling cheap crap you don't need at extremely high prices. Come in today and be treated rudely by our poorly trained clerks. Remember, at Stan's, we're not just talking about inflation, we're doing something about it! We're raising our prices!
Finally, Al Laiman comes in front of the screen in a real suit in front of an American flag.
LAIMAN: Good evening, AmericaPCW. I am running for the position of "Guy Who Beat NCM", and I need your support in this upcoming election. My opponent believes that he will win the "Guy Who Beat Laiman" campaign, but given that invisible people don't count as representatives, it's been a solo effort so far. When we come down to it, our debate will take place inside the ring at PCW’s Trauma, and I can assure you, I am the man for the job of winner. I've been a winner, my opponent will never be. Just take a look at the track records; Al Laiman has been a world champion, and he looks good while doing it. NCM just thinks the world belt is shiny and has pretty colors. Plus, if I win, I promise I'll get us a soda machine in the school cafeteria! Vote for Laiman in '06!
A "Paid For by Laiman and Friends" sign flashes across the screen. Finally, the scene changes, and Al Laiman is standing in front of the Hardcore Hell being assembled.
LAIMAN: I suppose you're going to blame everyone laughing at you on me as well, NCM? Good, that's one thing I wouldn't mind having associated with me. The rest of the things that you seem to love making my fault, well... I think it's time we had a little chat. My name is not Zellmo, and the only one who's screwed you out of main-event chances is you. Take some personal responsibility and own up to your own shortcomings once in a while. It's easy to point fingers at everyone, because then you don't feel as bad about yourself. But all the lying and the false sense of pride from building yourself up will get you in trouble time and time again, and this time, you've gone a bit too far for your own damn good.
LAIMAN: NCM, I also think it's time we took a visit to Webster's dictionary of Exaggerations. I'm about to encounter a force so violent that not even the elements themselves could stop it? Come on now... First of all, the elements themselves make you what you are, so I'm pretty sure elements could stop other elements in some shape or manner, namely the elements that make up Al Laiman, cause they don't suck as much. Second of all, how am I supposed to believe you're some true world champion that's just been held down and screwed out of his chances when you've been defending that title against the likes of the Byrd and Atlas? Take a look, how have you done in matches that have mattered? We could include the Tag Team Turmoil as one of your brighter points, but let's be honest... Ace is the only reason you went anywhere in that. Oh, now I remember... You were in the main event a couple weeks ago against Lantlas... Right, your chance to prove yourself... You were owned. Then, you were in a handicapped match against Anthony Douglas. A HANDICAPPED MATCH! You expect to retain your title against this guy, and you can't even win when you have a partner? Granted, me beating the shit out of you during that match probably didn't help, but we don't have time for rational solutions!
Laiman looks behind him, at the metal cages being constructed.
LAIMAN: Self-admittedly, the most hardcore moment in your career, you lost the match. You seem to have a bad habit of doing that when it counts, don't you? Not winning doesn't exactly help spring you towards that main event you so desire. I could tell you various stories of this here structure, and the blood and pain that has come from them... After all, what kind of sadistic son of a bitch would think of a match like this? It would have to be someone who's not afraid of getting hurt. Someone who's not afraid to bleed. And above all, someone who has no remorse for severely injuring another human being for the sole sake of that bell ringing and their name being announced the winner. He's also probably a very good-looking and successful guy, young... I'd say maybe mid-twenties. I'll also bet he designed this match when he was seventeen-years-old and already running his own federation. And to tell you the truth, I'll place the Vegas odds on the fact that this man is in PCW at this very moment, and will be walking into that very same match to face a guy who is a mere legend in his own mind.
LAIMAN: Make no mistake about it, NCM... You've crossed the boundaries from safe matches like the Byrd and Atlas. Simple threats like not being able to make it to Return to Glory will only make it that much more funny when I'm looking down on your fallen body from the top of the second cage and laughing.
Laiman grabs an object from the pile of weapons. A black steel chair with a red smiley face in the middle.
LAIMAN: NCM, meet the Happy Chair! He's a happy guy, and he has a fascination with making skulls bleed. Cheap little nicknames like the "Usher of Destruction" don't scare him anymore than they do me, for they're usually dubbed on men by themselves who need an extra ego boost when they know they're doomed. The truth is a virus, and you will know it before the end.
Laiman drops the chair and disappears from the shot. The camera zooms in on several workers finishing the first cage as the scene closes.