Ass Productions Proudly Presents to you...
An X-Rated Segment Starring
RWA-WCW World Champion; RWA-WCW U.S. Champion; RWA-WCW Tag Team
Champion; RWA-WCW Hardcore Champion; RWA-WWF King of the Ring; RWA-WWF Tag
Billy Gunn: I guess I owe the World Wrestling Federation an explanation as to why I ducked out of my Three-Way Dance for the Intercontinental Title... Uh, ah, I'm Billy Gunn. It's that simple. Do I have to explain myself? Let me remind you of something. I'm a former Degenerate. I can't be told what to do. And when I do something, I can't be questioned. Loose cannon? Damn right. Damn good? No doubt. Let me get something straight, here and now. I am The One Billy Gunn. I got it all. Women love me, and men wanna be me. I've sat on top of the wrestling world before, and believe me, it won't be hard to do it again. But first, I'm going to start with Intercontinental Title. I'm going to start with Chris Benoit. Now, I want to talk about my favorite subject a little more... Me. I owe my fans another explanation, regarding my leaving the WWF. Before I left, things were incredible. My career took of in new dimensions. I was booked to guest star on televisions shows like "Malcom in the Middle" and "Norm". I landed a movie deal. I was being paid fifteen million for a movie, despite the fact it that it flopped heavily. I had Cameron by my side. And as always, I was Mr. Ass. There are guys who would kill to be Mr. Ass, including me. After I left again, the World Wrestling Federation lost a great deal of respect for me, and for great reason. I could never do for them what I did for World Championship Wrestling. After I won the tag team titles with Jeff Hardy a while back, I had to check out, leaving the WWF hanging high and dry. I'm sure the executives were pretty pissed off, but hey, that's the breaks. Anyway, upon re-signing just recently, I was told "Mr. Ass" was against the direction the company was trying to take. They want to draw back the extremity of the federation, so they told me that they couldn't sign me under my old alias. Now, I'm The One, Cole. I feel like a shell of my former self. Things are definitely different. After the movie bombed, I was no longer asked to guest star of TV sitcoms, Cameron and I went or separate ways, and again, I'm no longer the Ass Man. It's time to start over, in a sense, Michael Cole. It's time to concentrate on what I do in that ring like the old days. The time where I won King of the Ring here in the WWF. As a matter of fact, I'm the reigning King of the Ring, and who knows, I may win it again. My past is no more. It's Mr. Ass' past. I'm The One. It's time to write the first chapter of a new book. It's a new start Michael Cole. A new era.
Voice: Will you ever be rid of me?
Billy Gunn: What the hell?! Who said that?
Gunn begins to frantically look around as the lights dim all around him.
Voice: The One... It's me. The Ass Man, The Badd Ass, Mr. Ass!
The lights are restored as Gunn places his face in his hands, and begins to shake his head back and fourth, as if shaking off the hallucination. He looks around, recognizing he's back in the gym. He sits quiet, thinking about the hallucination. Gunn now tells the cameraman to leave, and he does just that.
Billy Gunn: Am I losing my mind? Nah... No way. I'm Billy Gunn. The One and Only, baby. A little basketball will take my mind off this...
Gunn sits back and watches the Texas Longhorns practice from the stands. Suddenly, however, the scene fades, and the narrating, which is what I'm doing now, turns into a first person narrative, from Mr. Ass' point-of-view. The One can only watch as it happens right in front of him... It all began on the campus of UCLA. Being the basketball enthusiast that I am, you know where I was. Yes, the gym. You never lose the talent. It's like riding a bike. Basketball, like wrestling, is life. So, me playing a pick up game with the members of this year's UCLA Bruin Team is not out of the ordinary. However, I am used to playing with the roster of the Texas Longhorns. I am an Austin Native. We open on the scene on the official playing court of this team rich with history. Lou Alcindor, better known as Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, played for this university, and you know National Championships were only expected and delivered by the giant. I'm glad he's not here, right now. He'd take away my fire. These kids can't hold me. All six of us are going at it on this court. Sweating, breathing hard, and physical play are common, welcomed, and necessary when you play on this court. We've played for hours, but my team has come out on top each time they game has been restarted. Twice. Three games in a span of four hours. We're Gods. This game is about to be ended, and that will call it a day. Three games in one day. Three long games in one day. Twelve to eleven, our lead. Duce takes the win. I have the ball at the top of the key. I face up against Jason Kapono, Freshmen Pac-10 Player of the Year, who stands at 6-7. I look up to this guy. I could take him off the dribble, but I want to something for these five players to remember me by. I look over to Earl Watson, 6-1 Senior Guard. With my eyes, I signal for the alley hoop. He nods, and I pass the ball to him, where he stands on the wing. I fake right, then cross, left. Kapono stumbles a bit. He's behind me, and I know it. Earl tosses to the ball in the air, and like a wide out, I consume it into my hands, but like a high flying small forward, I double pump, and land the dunk. Out of no where, Billy Gunn stands in the air, breaking out of the hallucination. At the same time, he's hit with a basketball and sent a long fall to the bottom of the bleachers. Gunn rolls all the way down. The players laugh, as Gunn steadily rises to his feet, a little dizzy. He makes his way over to the exit to the gym. Gunn pushes the doors fiercely, and quickly moves to the restroom. Inside, he takes a look in the mirror. He now sees himself with long hair. He jumps back, yelling a little, and then he realizes that his reflection in the mirror isn't reflecting what he's doing. The figure in the mirror just stands there with arms folded and purple tented sunglasses on. Gunn gains himself, then slowly walks up the mirror, and touches it.
Billy Gunn: Are you real? I mean, what the hell is going on?
Mr. Ass: Gunn, I am you... But then again, I ain't. Mr. Ass was successful, popular, and he had one hell of a chick in Cameron Diaz. Not to mention a sidekick cameraman by the name of Derek McMichaels. Then we have you... You don't have Cameron. You aren't on top of the wrestling industry, and where's the cameraman? Really, I'm here to see to it that you do not screw up what I have established here. I'm a former World Champion, Gunn.
Billy Gunn: Get off my case... I just started! On Smackdown!, I begin my era. I begin the era of The One.
Mr. Ass: Kind of like the Era of The Ass Man?
Billy Gunn: Exactly.
Mr. Ass: You haven't been in the ring lately, One. Chris Benoit is well in the swing of things. I dunno man... Are you ready? Will we see any ring rust?
Billy Gunn: Ring rust is something you will not see. Guys with as much talent as myself don't have bad days. When you have as much talent as Chris Benoit, or lack there of, bad days are as frequent as the sun sets. You can expect to see Billy Gunn walk into the match, kick ass, and become Intercontinental Champion. The quality of talent that I'm facing is so little. The chances of this match even coming to the Fame-Ass-Er are unlikely. Did I tell ya' about the Fame-Ass-Er? I don't think I did. Ah, The Fame-Ass-Er. This is by far the most dangerous maneuver performed in the WWF. When it's given, you don't get up afterwards. When it's given, you don't know what the hell hit you until the next morning when you show up at the gym, and the common wrestlers are describing just how out you were in the middle of that ring, before, during, and after I pinned you for the one, two, three. I've been through this on countless occasions, but I'm aware that I'm dealing with a new audience. The World Wrestling Federation audience. Not only am I talking to the fans, I'm talking to those who question or oppose me. I'm talking to those who are scared to death of me. These are the people whom you'll never hear speak a word about me, in fear that I'll come after their sorry asses, and put a halt to their gradual climbing of the ladder in the WWF. That's everyone's goal. Everyone wants to be like Mr. Ass. Everyone wants to be like you, Gunn. The Ass Man, ladies and gentlemen. I want to be like Mr. Ass. The One wants to be on top of this industry like you were, Gunn. You want to know what you're going to see from me? You're going to see exactly what I see in the mirror, right now. The same wrestling ability of the man who was dominant in the World Wrestling Federation, and then World Championship Wrestling. Gunn has yet to lose a match, and I have dominated my first opponent, like my most recent no matter how good the opponent is. I know you don't have anything else or anyone to do, so remember me words. Tomorrow, you will see Billy Gunn do as he has done in months prior, and that's kick ass.
Mr. Ass: Good answer. Now, rip into Chris Benoit's ass!
Billy Gunn: Certainly. I believe I have to say a few words in regards to Chris Benoit. Well, fine. What can I say, huh? He's the Intercontinental Champion. I have to give my props to the guy... Not! Get real. Chris Benoit, Intercontinental Champion or not, just doesn't have what it takes to contain The One. Now, we have the Crippler Cross-face. I hear a hell of a lot about this maneuver, and guess what, I'm not impressed by it. I think the Fame-Ass-Er is ten times more effective, and don't get me started on Angle's Olympic Slam. God! What a sorry ass, finisher. Anyway, Benoit, I'm in this match to take your title. I don't lose. I hate it. I hate losing more than I like winning. Let's put it that way. So, you know that I will do whatever possible not to lose. Benoit, this isn't what I had in mind. The Intercontinental Championship is a chump title to me. Chris Benoit, you're a chump in my opinion. I want the World Title, but that's Mr. Ass talking. I'm The One. I have to start from scratch, and Benoit, you're scratch. You're a stepping stone, and nothing more. You are the beginning of my era here in the WWF. Be happy, Chris Benoit. You should be. This is another return to the sport of wrestling by The One Billy Gunn. You should be thrilled that you will get to set off the beginning of my triumphant return to wrestling after a couple months off. Go ahead, Benoit smile- Nevermind! Don't do that. And I think we both know why.
Chris Benoit will do all he can to win. There's no doubt in my mind of this. I mean, if he doesn't, he has no reason for being in this business, and on the other hand, the ass kicking I'm going to inflict on him would be that much worse. And with his short comings, he'll do the best he can. I'm sure of it. The problem is, his short comings outweigh his advantages. What are his advantages? He's... Well... There is... Okay, no advantages. What are his short comings? Ah, well, where do I start? He is a short little guy. Short and stubby. Yeah, and he's missing a tooth. Doesn't he make enough money to have that fixed? Ah, whatever. Then there's the fact that he's not too quick. You'd think that since he is five foot flat that he'd be extremely quick, but I'm faster than he is. I'm stronger than Benoit. I'm smarter than Benoit. In short, I'm better than Benoit. I'm a better athlete. I'm a better wrestler. He can toot his own horn about being the best technical wrestler in the wrestling world today all he wants, but I have gone against better technical wrestlers than him in the past, and I have come out on top. Rather than thinking that Benoit's technical wrestling is going to be a large factor in this match, think about the fact that my raw strength and devastating maneuvers, like the Jackhammer, Tilt-A-Whirl Back Breaker, and my favorite, The Diving Fame-Ass-Er, are going to be a factor in this match up. Actually, they're going to be the reason why I win. These moves hurt, Benoit, despite what you may think. And they'll really sting when I execute them on your midget ass. Benoit, this will be good for you. To go toe to toe with a guy like me. It's good for a guy like you, who has aspirations to be better, to observe the best, but it's even better to let him take you to school. Benoit, on Smackdown!, you've been selected to be my first student... You're gonna be a stupid of The One's Game. Time to play.
Kurt Angle was a worthy opponent? Get real! Chris Benoit has been knocking off pushovers to keep that title around his waist. I'm no pushover. Far from it actually. I am the current King of the Ring. I'm a former World Champion. Kurt Angle? A loser by nature. Much like Benoit. The only difference is that Angle just plain out sucks. Benoit has a little ability, and I mean a little. Kurt Angle is born just to lose, be it Tiger Singh Ali or, hey, Chris Benoit. Benoit is able to beat a guy like Tiger or Angle, but when it comes to a true main-eventer. A true show stopper, or a true headliner, Benoit is not effective. To be quite frank, he's out of his league. I have boundaries. I have no boundaries. Chris Benoit is a guy who will never be a World Champion, and why? Because that's a limit he cannot reach. He's no good enough! He's not The One Billy Gunn. There's only one Gunn, and he's the Top Gunn, and his name is Billy Gunn. I can do whatever I want, because I have no boundaries to keep me. Benoit, it's fun. When you grow a pair and actually get some talent, try it. Yet, how can you? You're deprived by nature. You're set to be a loser for the rest of your wrestling career. Man, I feel sorry for you. How does it feel? I mean, really. It must really suck, Benoit. Yet, life must really suck when you're not Billy Gunn, period, because everytime you look at me, you see what you don't have, however, you want so so bad. God gave it to me. I had no control over that. I do have control over my next match. Yeah, I'm talking about Billy Gunn versus Chris Benoit for the Intercontinental Title.
Benoit has plans to win this match. I hope he hasn't promised anyone a victory, especially his kids. If he has, then his kids are going to be quite disappointed in their father. Benoit, I know you're watching this. Bring the kids to the screen. I have a message for them. Nah, don't worry, I'll keep it clean... Okay. Kids, your father has promised you that he's going to win his Intercontinental Title Match at No Way Out, right? Right, okay. Now, I hate be the barer of bad news, but, he's not going to win it. He's going to lose his title, and after he does, he'll be classified as what he truly is... One sorry excuse for a wrestler. As a matter of fact, it'll be safe to say that, your father is a loser. Yeah, your father is a failure. You see, I'm a better role model than even your father. I'm even better than Santa Claus. Why? Because when I make promises, I follow through. Politician? Perhaps I should dabble in the field, but I'll do that when I'm your father's age. Anyway, I'm telling you now, I will win the your dad's Intercontinental Title. I promise this. One of us can't fulfill this promise. Which one do you think has a better chance of coming through? Benoit or Billy Gunn? Yeah, I thought so. The One all the way. Okay Sting, get them away from the screen. I'm about to mouth off, and I don't think you want them to hear what I have to say. Wait, do you even have kids? I mean, you're one of a kind. A Canadian who looks like Trailer Trash. I don't think today's woman is ready for such a crossover. I am The One and Only Billy Gunn. I am the one and only wrestler who will walk away from Sunday as Intercontinental Champion. Benoit, you see my plans, do you honestly believe you can stop me from realizing my goal? If so, you have a lot of guts. Either that, you're crazy in your toothless little head. Chris Benoit. I hear you're a rabid wolverine. I hear you love taking wrestlers out by injuring them. I hear you're crazy. I like that. The insane are the most dangerous people on the planet, because they just don't give a damn. You'll come to find that the insane are dangerous, but are second to me in that very category, however. You see, not only do I not give a damn, but hell, I like to play with people. Get in their heads, toy with their minds. You have no idea what I mean, but as time passes, you will.
Mr. Ass: I'm impressed. You're almost as good as I was, One. If your wrestlin' is as similiar as your mouth to mine then I think you're going to be just fine. One thing though, you need to be a little more arrogant. Yeah, I'm not seeing that enough.
Billy Gunn: That's it? I was holding back, but if you want me to go all out. Well then, you're in for a treat here. Chris Benoit? Let's continue to rant on Chris Benoit, shall we? Chris Benoit. Do you ever shut up? You talk more about my life than my wrestling ability. So I went to a strip club... Yeah, so what? That's lame to you? Figures. Look at you. Listen little boy, let me break something down to you. You are as lame as they come. I have never seen anything more boring than you in life, outside of The Rock, of course. Do you really think people are watching you? I watched half of your segment then turned the damn thing off. I can't stand your accent, kid. You're dealing with a company that's predominately made up of United States citizens. Man, you could get rid of that God forsaken accent so we can understand your simple ass? Please, just do me this favor for us all. Onto something else that's on my mind. Ah, Benoit... You can't work alone? You want to join up with The Game and take on the federation. Benoit, you're looking at a guy who can survive in a federation on his own, taking on stables, or simple tasks like a single wrestler. You can't do that. Hell, in all reality, you're going to need help to beat me. You know my track record. You know you're the underdog. I'm a former World Champion, Benoit. I've been there, here, over there, and under here. Down there and up there. Shit, what I'm trying to say is, I've been there, done that. You name it, The One has done it. Benoit... You know what I'm capable of. Obviously. Do you honestly believe you have a chance. Don't hide behind the fact that you're Intercontinental Champion, because the title don't mean shit wiped on a piece of toilet paper to me. I don't care about the title. I just want to beat you. You were lucky at No Way Out, and you know this, man! Again I say, had I been there, you wouldn't be the Intercontinental Champion, Benoit.
Benoit, you don't like my hair? I got it done like this just for you. You were the first person I thought of while I was getting it done. Feel the sarcasm. I could give a damn about what you think about my hair, queer. The ladies don't seem to have a problem with it, you unoriginal bastard. Why do you? You're not attracted to guys like me? I'm sure there aren't a lot of guys out there you aren't attracted to. Not to mention, you carry around a blow up doll of me, and wrestle with it... ... ... Nah, I'm not going to go down that route. You may be gay, not that there's anything wrong with that, but really, is it my business? No. My business is the ring, and however steps into that ring in opposition while I'm in it... Well, my stubby little friend. They're going to get hurt... Bad. I don't need to resort to underhanded tactics to do it, either, Benoit. I'll kick your ass with every move I got. There's no need to get a steel chair. There's no need to grab a steel pole. Steal it off you in true Degeneration-X fashion? I'm not Shawn Michaels. I'm Billy Gunn. You could only be so lucky. You can't embarrass your opponent by stealing his title. Oh no. Hell no. You gotta beat his sorry ass. The crowd hates you. So me, shoving my size twelve plus shoe in Benoit's tight ass will definitely bring a great deal of embarrassment to him. Yeah, that's the plan, Benoit. God you're funny looking. Anyway, that's the plan. By the way, I'm it just occurred to me. You should use that dictionary more often. For you to be calling me the redneck, you sure are an idiot. I can't stress this enough. You talk about everything and everyone, except actually beating me. You have talked about my hair. You've called me a redneck. You've even called me lame, and we all know that's some bullshit. I can't believe I heard those words come out of your mouth. You have to be the lamest and most redundant of all wrestlers here in the World Wrestling Federation, but that's another matter. What does my hair, being lame, or being a redneck have to do with me winning or losing? Not a damn thing. Benoit, you talk about how you're focused and what have you, but it's obvious you just don't understand what the term 'focus' means. Either that, you don't know what to focus on. Either way, you lose. End of story.
Mr. Ass: Well, I think you're ready to become what I am. Good luck man.
Billy Gunn: Thanks... Am I talking to myself?
Mr. Ass: Ah... It's debatable.
Mr. Ass disappears in the mirror, leaving Gunn breathing hard, and leaning on the sink for support. He turns on the hydrant and splashes water in his face. He takes one last deep breath, then looks up. He now sees Cameron, a recent girlfriend. His eyes widen as he sees her in the mirror, standing by the exit in the restroom. Gunn turns around quickly, and sure enough, there she is. She smiles, as Gunn does the same. He then steps to her, and almost hugs her until she morphs into Michael Cole! Eww! Gunn now looks pissed, as an innocent Michael Cole fears for his life. The laughing of Mr. Ass can be heard from a distance, as Gunn's frown becomes all the more intimidating. He picks Michael up while Cole screams for his life.
Billy Gunn: Swirly!
Gunn kicks up the stall door, and holds Michael Cole upside down, putting his head in the toilet, and flushing the toilet. Gunn shrugs as he does this...
Billy Gunn: Hell, I may be going out of my mind. I'm going to take this out on someone, Cole. I'm sorry it had to be you. This reminds me of something. Yeah, a past match. One time, I was so pissed about something. Hell, I can't even remember it. Anyway, I used my feelings to fuel my intensity and aggression in the ring. Man, I kicked some major ass that day. Maybe I should save my feelings toward possibly become crazy in my head, and turn them to fuel for my aggression and intensity against Chris Benoit. Yeah, I'll do that...
Gunn lifts Michael Cole, and stands him back on his feet. Cole coughs begins to frantically wash off his face with the hydrant water. When he realizing it isn't an efficient means of doing it, and rushes out of the restroom, yelling...
Michael Cole: I'm unclean!
Billy Gunn: Damn... What's wrong with me? Am I losing my mind? No... This is a freakin' dream. A dream!
Suddenly, the scene fades to Gunn sleeping in his lockerroom, backstage in the arena that will host Smackdown!. He's wearing a World Wrestling Federation t-shirt, with black shorts. He's sitting in a chair, as he wakes himself up out of that rather interesting dream.
Billy Gunn: Yeah... A dream. What a freaky dream. And since when could I just wake myself up? Makes little sense, just like this segment. It makes little sense, just like Chris Benoit walking out of Smackdown! with his title. It just ain't gonna happen! Chris Benoit wants to prove something to me. He wants me to see that he's good. He understands that I am a legend. That I am a threat. That I am the biggest challenge he has ever had. I'm glad. I'm very happy about this, because I have already won. As soon as he mentioned the past things I have done in the Real Wrestling Alliance, I knew right off the bat, I have this toothless bastard beat. He's made it clear that he thinks he's going to win because he's beaten Kurt Angle and William Regal. Two guys who have done nothing for this business, and will do nothing for this business. I'm not Regal, and I damn sure ain't Kurt Angle. They want to be me, but that's different. I'm The One Billy Gunn. Redneck or not, I'm walking out of that match with the Intercontinental Title. Not because I want it. It's because it comes with the victory. Benoit acts like I'm not even a worry, but as I stated earlier, he knows what he's getting into. Inside, he doesn't know if he'll be able to pull out the victory. He's afraid. He's afraid of The One. Benoit, I'm going to tell my future opponents about Chris Benoit. I'm going to use you like you have used Kurt Angle and William Regal. I'm going to use Benoit as an example for my future opponents. By him, they'll know just what I'm capable of. They will understand just how dangerous I am. They will fear me, like Chris Benoit does. Prove Benoit wrong? You bet your ass I will! While he's talking about The Undertaker, The Rock, Right To Censor, and numerous other wrestlers, I'm talking about Benoit and only Benoit. I'm getting prepared for Chris and only Chris. That's not good for Benoit. He has distractions, and I don't. In addition to the fact that I'm better than than he is in almost every aspect of the game, this gives me another advantage. I hear Benoit loud and clear, and I'm proud of the guy for having the balls to stand up to me. However, he's going to find that I'm no freakin' blow doll for him to have his way with. The moves he executed on it were good, but the blow up doll doesn't hit back. Bottomline, and look that word up, I'm walking out of Smackdown! with the Intercontinental Title around my waist. So, after I prove Benoit wrong, and laugh at his slack jawed, toothless, redneck looking Canadian ass for doubting me, he can stop kissing the blow up replica's ass, and...
The camera backs up, and gets a a WWF Technician in the picture. He's just standing there. It seems like he has been standing there throughout Gunn's little closing rant. Gunn raises an eyebrow, and says...
Billy Gunn: Is there a problem?
Technician: Who are you, and what the hell are you talking about?
Gunn just looks directly at the camera, and shakes his head as the scene fades.
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