Post by angryfan on Mar 2, 2007 1:55:10 GMT -5
I tested the premise, sort of, with the last WTB, so figured I'd write one and see how it goes. Feedback is welcome as always.
(scene opens with Hogan and Nash standing by an empty wrestling ring, as an unseen person, who sounds eerily like Brian Knobbs, is heard in the background)
Voice: This is the story of Hulkubus Q. Hogan, a man with a vision. His vision, to travel the ages, in search of worthy competition.
Hogan: Hold on, now, brother, what are you doing, dude?
Knobbs: (stepping out from behind a life-sized Grimace statue) I thought it sounded good.
Nash: (stepping forward, and collapsing) God, that hurt. Anyway, who the hell is Hulkubus?
Knobbs: It sounds noble, doesn’t it?
Hogan: Why are you here, dude?
Knobbs: (lowering his head) Linda told me I couldn’t sleep in your couch anymore.
Hogan: Damn right, brother! That’s the third couch we’ve had to get this week, dude! (to Nash) So how’s the roster shaping up?
Nash: We’ve got some real blue-chippers, Hulkster. Take a look for yourself.
(Nash points to Van Hammer and Ernest Miller)
Hogan So what do you two think about all this?
Miller: Somebody better call my mama! I’m about to whoop somebody’s ass!
(Scott Norton appears in the doorway)
Miller: Listen, I got somewhere to be. (he departs, as Nash and Hogan stare at Norton)
Norton: Hey, can either of you break a twenty? I’m in a jam here.
Hogan: Sorry, brother, can’t.
Norton: Damn, oh well. Thanks anyway. (he leaves)
Nash: So, we’re down to one guy, and it’s Hammer.
Hammer: (busily cutting nipple holes in a stack of t-shirts) Hey, I’ve got loads of untapped potential.
Hogan: Lemme tell ya something, brother, it’s a good thing I planned for this, dude!
Knobbs: (fitting a wig to the Grimace statue) Oooh, I love this part, Hulk. You going to tell him about the time-traveling devise you had placed in your artificial hip, and how you’re going to go to all sorts of different periods to find people to wrestle?
(Hogan and Nash stare blankly at Knobbs)
Knobbs: What?
Hogan: Well, brother, now you know the plan, dude.
Nash: How much did this time-traveling device cost, anyway?
Hogan: Does it really matter, dude?
Nash: Well, I guess not, but wouldn’t it be easier to just hire people from the independent scene? I’ve got connections in Mozambique that are as yet untouched.
Hogan What’s going to make bigger headlines, brother? Hogan versus Jojo the local boy, or Hogan versus Napoleon?
Nash: Napoleon? Isn’t he, I don’t know, a little on the short side?
Hogan: I thought of that, brother, but if there’s one thing the Hulkster knows, dude, it’s how to get the little guys over.
Nah: Karaoke?
Hogan: No, dude, the leg drop. The leg drop has set sail to more careers than the Sahara desert has set sail ocean liners.
Nash: The Sahara is a desert, Hulk.
Hogan: The point is the same, brother. Now, enough talk.
(Hogan places a hand on his hip and disappears)
(Scene changes to Paris, circa 1803, with Hogan, in tights and boas, standing in the middle of the Champs-Elysees, towering over everyone else)
Hogan: Napoleon! I’m calling you out, dude!
(a crowd of bewildered and frightened Parisians stand around staring)
Hogan: I’m telling you, brother, bring your butt out here!
(at this point, a carriage rolls through the street, stops, and Napoleon emerges, staring blankly)
Hogan: I’m gonna kick your French ass, dude! Everybody knows you’re a loser! You choked at Waterloo!
(the crowd, many of whom speak English, are bewildered, since Waterloo was still a few years away)
Hogan: What I’m saying, brother, is you and me, Detroit, 200,000 fans, dude!
Napoleon: (stepping in front of his guard detail) Partir en vacances, monstre orange!
(a holographic Ed Leslie appears, clutching a baggie and one of those old hand held football video games)
Hogan: Give me a hand here, brother, this isn’t working!
Leslie: Can you believe this crap? That sonofab**** Uncle Charlie screwed me again! Baking soda, Hulk, this just isn’t right!
Hogan: Not now, dude! Why isn’t Frenchy here accepting the challenge? Doesn’t your machine say anything?
Leslie: Uh…let me check. (he shakes the game) It says “third and nine” does that help?
Hogan: How could that possibly help, dude?
Leslie: Well, if you were playing football –
Hogan: The game hasn’t even been invented yet, brother!
Leslie: OK, soccer, they have downs, don’t they?
Hogan: Who cares, dude? Just find me something, brother!
Leslie: Fine. Now what am I supposed to do with this baking soda?
Hogan: Go, dude!
(Leslie disappears)
Hogan: Alright, fine, dude, we’re going to have to do this the hard way, brother!
(Hogan grabs Napoleon and, placing a hand on his hip, causes the both of them to disappear)
(Scene changes back to the arena, with Nash and Van Hammer, who is now cutting nipple holes in a tuxedo, waiting)
Hogan: (tossing Napoleon towards the ring) OK, let’s give this a try, brother! Here’s how it goes, we get in there, you punch me a few times, then I Hulk up, big boot, and leg drop, and everybody’s happy, ok?
(Napoleon stares, completely confused)
Nash: Look, Napoleon, we’re not asking much here. Five minutes of your time, and you get a nice little paycheck.
(Napoleon remains silent, staring at the Grimace costume, which Knobbs is now stringing with Christmas lights)
Nash: OK, Hulk, I think he understands. Hammer, go et the crowd in.
(Hammer departs, returning seconds later with the Hogan family, two homeless guys dressed as Statler and Waldorf, and a half dozen stray cats)
Hogan: What’s with the cats, dude?
Hammer: They looked lonely.
Nash: They are cute. (he reaches out to pet one, and collapses, sceaming)
(the Hogans , Statler, and Waldorf take their seats)
Hogan: Can you feel the electricity, brother?
(Napoleon still remains silent, but is now standing on the ring apron, looking more confused than ever. Nash taps him on the shoulder and points, and Napoleon climbs in the ring)
Nash: (putting on a ref’s shirt) Ring the bell!
(Knobbs and Hammer stare at each other, then at Nash)
Knobbs: What bell?
Nash: (sighing) Fine. Ding, ding!
(Hogan walks toward Napoleon, ready to throw a punch)
Napoleon: (in English) I surrender!
Nash: Good enough for me, ring the bell!
Hammer: What bell?
Nash: Damn, I forgot. Ding! Ladies and gentlemen –
Hammer: And kitties!
Nash: Fine. Ladies, gentlemen, and kitties, you’re winner via submission, Hulk Hogan!
(Real American begins playing, and Hogan begins posing, as Napoleon goes back to examining the Grimace statue)
Statler: That wasn’t bad at all.
Waldorf: No, it was awful!
(Ed Leslie appears again in holographic form)
Leslie: Kev! Hey Kev!
Nash: What?
Leslie: I know I got ir right this time! Check it out! (he holds up a baggie)
Nash: It’s green.
Leslie: It’s imported!
(Nash takes the baggie and smells it, then takes a taste)
Nash: These are crumbled up Apple Jacks, man.
Leslie: (screams) Damn you, Uncle Charlie!
(scene ends)
(scene opens with Hogan and Nash standing by an empty wrestling ring, as an unseen person, who sounds eerily like Brian Knobbs, is heard in the background)
Voice: This is the story of Hulkubus Q. Hogan, a man with a vision. His vision, to travel the ages, in search of worthy competition.
Hogan: Hold on, now, brother, what are you doing, dude?
Knobbs: (stepping out from behind a life-sized Grimace statue) I thought it sounded good.
Nash: (stepping forward, and collapsing) God, that hurt. Anyway, who the hell is Hulkubus?
Knobbs: It sounds noble, doesn’t it?
Hogan: Why are you here, dude?
Knobbs: (lowering his head) Linda told me I couldn’t sleep in your couch anymore.
Hogan: Damn right, brother! That’s the third couch we’ve had to get this week, dude! (to Nash) So how’s the roster shaping up?
Nash: We’ve got some real blue-chippers, Hulkster. Take a look for yourself.
(Nash points to Van Hammer and Ernest Miller)
Hogan So what do you two think about all this?
Miller: Somebody better call my mama! I’m about to whoop somebody’s ass!
(Scott Norton appears in the doorway)
Miller: Listen, I got somewhere to be. (he departs, as Nash and Hogan stare at Norton)
Norton: Hey, can either of you break a twenty? I’m in a jam here.
Hogan: Sorry, brother, can’t.
Norton: Damn, oh well. Thanks anyway. (he leaves)
Nash: So, we’re down to one guy, and it’s Hammer.
Hammer: (busily cutting nipple holes in a stack of t-shirts) Hey, I’ve got loads of untapped potential.
Hogan: Lemme tell ya something, brother, it’s a good thing I planned for this, dude!
Knobbs: (fitting a wig to the Grimace statue) Oooh, I love this part, Hulk. You going to tell him about the time-traveling devise you had placed in your artificial hip, and how you’re going to go to all sorts of different periods to find people to wrestle?
(Hogan and Nash stare blankly at Knobbs)
Knobbs: What?
Hogan: Well, brother, now you know the plan, dude.
Nash: How much did this time-traveling device cost, anyway?
Hogan: Does it really matter, dude?
Nash: Well, I guess not, but wouldn’t it be easier to just hire people from the independent scene? I’ve got connections in Mozambique that are as yet untouched.
Hogan What’s going to make bigger headlines, brother? Hogan versus Jojo the local boy, or Hogan versus Napoleon?
Nash: Napoleon? Isn’t he, I don’t know, a little on the short side?
Hogan: I thought of that, brother, but if there’s one thing the Hulkster knows, dude, it’s how to get the little guys over.
Nah: Karaoke?
Hogan: No, dude, the leg drop. The leg drop has set sail to more careers than the Sahara desert has set sail ocean liners.
Nash: The Sahara is a desert, Hulk.
Hogan: The point is the same, brother. Now, enough talk.
(Hogan places a hand on his hip and disappears)
(Scene changes to Paris, circa 1803, with Hogan, in tights and boas, standing in the middle of the Champs-Elysees, towering over everyone else)
Hogan: Napoleon! I’m calling you out, dude!
(a crowd of bewildered and frightened Parisians stand around staring)
Hogan: I’m telling you, brother, bring your butt out here!
(at this point, a carriage rolls through the street, stops, and Napoleon emerges, staring blankly)
Hogan: I’m gonna kick your French ass, dude! Everybody knows you’re a loser! You choked at Waterloo!
(the crowd, many of whom speak English, are bewildered, since Waterloo was still a few years away)
Hogan: What I’m saying, brother, is you and me, Detroit, 200,000 fans, dude!
Napoleon: (stepping in front of his guard detail) Partir en vacances, monstre orange!
(a holographic Ed Leslie appears, clutching a baggie and one of those old hand held football video games)
Hogan: Give me a hand here, brother, this isn’t working!
Leslie: Can you believe this crap? That sonofab**** Uncle Charlie screwed me again! Baking soda, Hulk, this just isn’t right!
Hogan: Not now, dude! Why isn’t Frenchy here accepting the challenge? Doesn’t your machine say anything?
Leslie: Uh…let me check. (he shakes the game) It says “third and nine” does that help?
Hogan: How could that possibly help, dude?
Leslie: Well, if you were playing football –
Hogan: The game hasn’t even been invented yet, brother!
Leslie: OK, soccer, they have downs, don’t they?
Hogan: Who cares, dude? Just find me something, brother!
Leslie: Fine. Now what am I supposed to do with this baking soda?
Hogan: Go, dude!
(Leslie disappears)
Hogan: Alright, fine, dude, we’re going to have to do this the hard way, brother!
(Hogan grabs Napoleon and, placing a hand on his hip, causes the both of them to disappear)
(Scene changes back to the arena, with Nash and Van Hammer, who is now cutting nipple holes in a tuxedo, waiting)
Hogan: (tossing Napoleon towards the ring) OK, let’s give this a try, brother! Here’s how it goes, we get in there, you punch me a few times, then I Hulk up, big boot, and leg drop, and everybody’s happy, ok?
(Napoleon stares, completely confused)
Nash: Look, Napoleon, we’re not asking much here. Five minutes of your time, and you get a nice little paycheck.
(Napoleon remains silent, staring at the Grimace costume, which Knobbs is now stringing with Christmas lights)
Nash: OK, Hulk, I think he understands. Hammer, go et the crowd in.
(Hammer departs, returning seconds later with the Hogan family, two homeless guys dressed as Statler and Waldorf, and a half dozen stray cats)
Hogan: What’s with the cats, dude?
Hammer: They looked lonely.
Nash: They are cute. (he reaches out to pet one, and collapses, sceaming)
(the Hogans , Statler, and Waldorf take their seats)
Hogan: Can you feel the electricity, brother?
(Napoleon still remains silent, but is now standing on the ring apron, looking more confused than ever. Nash taps him on the shoulder and points, and Napoleon climbs in the ring)
Nash: (putting on a ref’s shirt) Ring the bell!
(Knobbs and Hammer stare at each other, then at Nash)
Knobbs: What bell?
Nash: (sighing) Fine. Ding, ding!
(Hogan walks toward Napoleon, ready to throw a punch)
Napoleon: (in English) I surrender!
Nash: Good enough for me, ring the bell!
Hammer: What bell?
Nash: Damn, I forgot. Ding! Ladies and gentlemen –
Hammer: And kitties!
Nash: Fine. Ladies, gentlemen, and kitties, you’re winner via submission, Hulk Hogan!
(Real American begins playing, and Hogan begins posing, as Napoleon goes back to examining the Grimace statue)
Statler: That wasn’t bad at all.
Waldorf: No, it was awful!
(Ed Leslie appears again in holographic form)
Leslie: Kev! Hey Kev!
Nash: What?
Leslie: I know I got ir right this time! Check it out! (he holds up a baggie)
Nash: It’s green.
Leslie: It’s imported!
(Nash takes the baggie and smells it, then takes a taste)
Nash: These are crumbled up Apple Jacks, man.
Leslie: (screams) Damn you, Uncle Charlie!
(scene ends)
helped $lim jinx NXT. Woops
