Five Hours Later…

When we last saw Billy Gunn, he unwisely attending a party without knowing exactly all the details. Now, in his defense, you’d never guess that about thirty celebrities and football players would conduct themselves in such a manner. However, the details of the party were in bold print on the invitation Billy Gunn received. All was not a loss, though, at this party. As usual, when we see Billy Gunn, he has some words for his opposition. We can only expect the same in the sequel to “Top Gunn”, “Top Gunn 2”, starring of course, Billy Gunn. By the way, there are no celebrities in the second edition of “Top Gunn” besides the star. Budget cuts are a bitch. Now, without further ado, we bring you this “happening” Ass Production…

The scene opens in pitch darkness. Only noises can be heard in this condition. Light is then provided by the cameraman, who’s light reveals Billy Gunn to be directly in the picture in a close up. He’s lying beneath a fallen tree log, tucked underneath. This scenery gives a “Blair Witch” vibe to the viewer, and Billy is latterly shivering.

Mr. Ass: I’m cold, I swear! Why the hell are you doing this? This is one of the most awkward events that I have ever experienced. Why would you make me give a segment in this situation?

Cameraman: Relax, Billy. Nick and all of his guests are at Nick Nolte’s country club at the front entrance of all this land. I guess it’s a hunting resort of some sort. I ran, and hid here. I caught up with you, but you were asleep. Nick Nolte and his pissed off band of celebrities stopped hunting you hours ago. As a matter of fact, they began to chase you, but the Tom Green situation with the deer, was too serious to ignore. Apparently a rich white family adopted the deer, which is named Bambi, and they had to get Tom off the thing and bury the knowledge of that ever happening. You know, to avoid a lawsuit.

Mr. Ass: And you just let me fall asleep in the wild. There’s no telling what kind of animals are out here. Ah, I’m going to kick your ass when all of this is said and done.

Cameraman: Look, I let you sleep because… Well, I don’t have a good reason, but don’t you feel better?

Billy Gunn slides out of the crevice under the log, and dusts himself, standing before the shorter cameraman.

Mr. Ass: Not that I really care but, what did they do with Chris Rock?

Cameraman: Nick Nolte was pretty pissed off at Chris Rock, and he was sent home. I hope… I don’t know, Billy. You’ve really done it this time. How could you punch Woody Harrelson? That man is a legend! Nice goin’ Top Gunn. 

Mr. Ass: I never would have been in this mess if it wasn’t for all those celebrities being insane. Paint ball?! C’mon, Derek. Stuff like that just shouldn’t happen at a party full of adults. Hell, even Rebecca Romijn was in on it.

Cameraman: You have no one to blame, but yourself. If you just would of read the damn invitation, you would have read that this party was going to take place partly in the woods.

Mr. Ass: It didn’t say it was going to be a Paintball Party!

Cameraman: Nick explained all of that on the limo to all of his guests. Keep in mind that had you read the invitation, you would have been aware that the limo was going to take everyone to Nick’s Country Resort. Instead, you drove here. There I was, attempting to catch you at Nick’s house, but to my surprise, you weren’t there. Yet, I had a great time with Rebecca and Pamela. Pamela can be very friendly when he’s not around Tommy.

Mr. Ass: I bet…

Cameraman: What’s next?

Mr. Ass: We get the hell out of here, Derek. How do we get out of this place?

Cameraman: You don’t associate with a lot of people, do you?

Mr. Ass: No. People are a waste of time. They make mistakes.

Cameraman: And you don’t?

Mr. Ass: Well I’m the closest thing you’ll ever get to perfect in this world.

Cameraman: Enough of that. I’ll call a friend of mine. I met her on the set of some Jim Carey movie. She’ll help us out. Besides, she was invited here, but she was smart enough not to come. She didn’t make the same mistake you did. I’ll use the cell phone…

Thirty Minutes Later…

The scene re-opens with Billy Gunn seated in the passenger’s seat of a red convertible, with the cameraman, Derek, in the backseat. Billy Gunn is without emotion in his expression, as he has once again, overcame obstacles that were quite steep. Billy Gunn is sitting here in tattered Army-like clothing, with some dirt on his face, and in his hair. Billy Gunn must be thanking the stars that it’s night, because no man deserves to be seen in this bad of shape. This all, however, does not bother the talented wrestler. What does bother this caliber of a wrestler is Cameron Diaz is sitting next to him in the driver’s seat, and she’s finding Billy Gunn’s predicament quite hilarious. Derek is telling her the entire story as each laugh gets louder and more hysterical than the one before it.

Cameraman: …Okay, and then he punches Pamela Anderson Lee, right, looks around, and throws her in a ditch. Then this idiot runs with the flag all the way across the woods to their-

Mr. Ass: Shut up! Just shut up Derek!

Cameron Diaz: Ah, poor baby. Beginning to feel humiliated? No wait, I’m talking to Billy Gunn. There’s no way he, of all people, could ever be humiliated.

Cameraman: There’s a first time for everything!

Cameron and Derek begin to laugh once again, as Billy slumps down in the seat, with his arms folded across his chest, and a pouting look on his face as he gazes out at the dark scenery to his left.

Cameraman: Look, Billy. I’m sorry. I’ll get serious now. I have something to tell you, and I don’t think you’re going to like it all that much. I was listening in on the party participants, and Rebecca was the center of attention. By the way, this took place in the club. Here, she said that she knew how to get you back. She plans to humiliate you in front of the nation, by dragging you into court for the kiss you two had. She-

Cameron Diaz: You kissed?!

Cameraman: I guess I forgot to tell you in my run down of the story, sorry about that Cameron. Anyway, it gets better, actually. This won’t actually be in a real court. It’s going be in a small claims court. You know, the ones on television.

Mr. Ass: Well, you’re just full of good news, aren’t ya’? Fuck!

Cameron begins to laugh, as Billy begins to ask her why, over and over again. She nods, not wanting to say, and he tries to get it out more and more, everytime she denies. He finally quits, throwing his hands in the air, and leaning back in his seat, shaking his head, with his arms folded. Time passes, and the scenes fade from Cameron driving, to Billy Gunn driving, to Billy driving and Cameron sleeping with her head leaning against the passenger seat door, to finally, Billy still sleeping with Cameron still asleep, but with her head rested against the shoulder of Billy Gunn.

Mr. Ass: This weekend has been hell, without any stretch of the imagination. It’s been a bad day, and it’s hard for the fact that I had a bad to actually sink in, because, people so near to perfection like myself, usually don’t experience days like this. I guess that’s why I’m not perfect. Yet, don’t get me wrong. I’m the closest human you’ll find on God’s green Earth as close to being perfect as myself. I figure, I have the opportunity to turn everything around, and that will be on Sunday. What’s takin’ place on Sunday you might ask? Well, if you did, you’re a fool, and you should be slapped where you stand, for my Pay-Per-View will begin on Sunday. No, I didn’t stutter, this is my Pay-Per-View. And no I’m not going to pull some corny, “Welcome to Ass of the Ring!” Nah, I have too much pride and class for that. Not to mention, I’m too good for that, unlike some short people, who rely on the cheers of Jericholics. Yeah, the three fats guys in the front row. Those would be the Jericholics. If you’re a fan of mine, you have to be quite refined and an intellectual, opposed to the fans of, oh, lets say, Chris Jericho, who, if you’re a fan of his, you’re probably trailer park trash. Hmm… Doesn’t that just bring a guy to mind? C’mon, everyone knows at least one guy who, in your mind, is the stereotype of a trailer trash person. I’m thinking of that person right now. Everyone in the federation knows him, so it shouldn’t be much of a surprise. The man I speak of it the Brooklyn Brawler. Brooklyn and trailers don’t mix, but who’s to say this Brawler character is from Brooklyn to begin with? Not that anyone cares. You could surf the net for days, surfing sites that fans dedicate to World Wrestling Federation wrestlers, and there’s a strong possibility that you’ll never see his name. You won’t find a bit of information on him. Typical.

Surprised? Shame on you if you are. We’re talking about a man who’s paid to lose. Paid to lose! I’ll tell you this, if we meet in the ring, he’s definitely going to make his money in the best fashion he ever has in his insignificant career in wrestling. What kind of man makes a living of being the stand in? What kind of wrestler would stand to lose everytime he walks into the ring? A well paid one, yes, but that well paid loser didn’t start out like that. Upon arrival, he made it clear by his ability in the ring that he had about as much talent as Andy Kaufman, God rest his poor little soul. If that! I guess the Brawler figured, hell, if I’m going to be this terrible of a wrestler, I might was well get paid for it. X-Pac should think about making the same move, because, unless he fights the Brawler, he’s going to lose. I’ll tell you one thing, Brawler, you had better make start losing and once again on a regular basis, because X-Pac is on your heels, and he’s losing for free. Work to keep your job, by jobbing as much as possible! I doubt the Brawler is actually serious about attempting to win this thing, so I don’t want to spend much time talkin’ about him, but it’s just a hilarious topic, I swear. King Brawler. The Brooklyn Brawler as the King of the Ring. Tell me, seriously, doesn’t this just tickle ya’? Yeah I said tickle, so what of it? Brawler, don’t quit your day job. Derek, you hanging in there, back there, buddy?

Derek nods his head, with the camera fixed on the back right side of Billy Gunn, that’s nearly covered by Cameron Diaz’s head.

Mr. Ass: Good. I know I’m having a good time up here. Anytime you have a girl like Cameron even leanin’ on ya’, you know you’re in business, but that’s another situation. A situation that I don’t want to venture into. I do, however, want to say a little about Edge’s little brother. He’s in his big brother’s shadow. I have seen the endorsements Edge has received, despite how meaningless and limited they are, that still tops his little brother’s who has none. I hear of Edge scoring a role in next Highlander flick, but I haven’t heard anything about his little brother. Is he in his brother’s shadow, or is he just holding him back? Who’s to say. The actions of a jealous brother are quite erratic, and they can snap at any time. What can be going on in the head of Edge’s little brother? Does he think that now is the time for him to make a name for himself? Edge is also in the tournament, but his time in it will come to a quick halt as I will knock him out of the tournament in the very first match of the tournament. This will give Edge’s little brother the chance to make a little noise in the tournament. Maybe make it so that people like me, who are where they want to be, can actually remember his name. What is his name? Ah, it doesn’t really matter now does it? If I attempt to remember it now, I’ll forget right after King of the Ring, simply because, well, he’s nobody in particular. What’s so great about Edge’s little brother? He’s small, so you’d think he’d be a high flyer, but in the ranks of being a high flyer, he pales in comparison to a Jeff Hardy or an Essa Rios. So, he’s small, but he’s not that good of a high flyer. What, he’s going to try and overpower me if we meet in the ring? Losing to this kid would end my career. I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror if I lost to this loser, I assure you. Well, Edge’s little brother, just pray you don’t make it too far in the tournament. If you do, you’re bound to run into me. You don’t want that, do you? You don’t… King Edge’s little brother? Eww… Get real!

Jeff Hardy… Phew, what can I say, huh? This guy dies his hair like a little high school girl. I can’t and don’t understand that. What Jeff, you don’t feel special enough? Don’t feel like you’re getting the exposure you deserve so you go to extreme measures to make yourself noticed? No, that’s not it? Okay, well maybe you’re gay. Yeah, maybe you’re too in touch with your famine side. I bet you like colors too, huh? Do you like decorating? Perhaps I’m stepping out on a diving board with no water in the pool, but would I be wrong to say that maybe ya’ like rainbows? No must, right? You have a “rainbow” thing going on that pint size head of yours. In speaking of your head, do you have any brains? Any man who flies like you without any thought of danger must be brainless. I love the high flyin’ moves. They’re incredible. Well, my top rope move is incredible at least. The Diving Fame-Ass-Er. That has to be the most dangerous top rope move known to man. Not dangerous to the man executing it, but to the man receiving it. In short, this thing is a career killer. Swan-ton Bomb, Jeff? Get real. It’s nothing compared to the top rope arsenal that I have, and it’s just one move. One move that’s more powerful than everyone of your top rope move put together. So, if my top rope moves are more powerful than yours, but you have nothing in grappling more powerful than my moves, what does that say to you? It should say, “You have no chance in hell of beating Billy Gunn. He’s too damn good. He has you beat in every category. Stepping into the ring with him will by the end of your career.” If it’s telling you different, then you’re dumber than your in-ring actions show. Even your brother doesn’t do the shit that you attempt to do on a regular basis. You’re going to be an old man quick. Damn, by Flair and Hogan’s age, you’ll be crippled. Think about that. King Hardy? Nah… That sounds terrible.

Well, I’m winding down on my verbal debacle of my fellow wrestlers in the World Wrestling Federation. Derek, who better to end this with than Kane? It seems this entire segment has been devoted to little brothers. Edge’s little brother, and Jeff, who’s Matt’s little brother. Now we have Kane, who’s The Undertaker’s little brother. You know, I remember with the Taker made the Ministry of Darkness. It was quite large and powerful, especially lead by a man who can manipulate so well. He brought in the likes of Farooq, Bradshaw, Viscera, Mideon, Edge, Edge’s little brother, and the little fat guy who bought in the Edge Brothers. You know, Edge and his little brother. Kane wasn’t apart of this stable. He was against his brother if I can rememver correctly. The Undertaker may very well be one of the greatest characters in the history of sports entertainment. He revolutionized Gothic Gimmicks. No one does it better than the Lord Of Darkness. Title reigns, authority over others. He was incredible. What has Kane done? Kane has fell into mid-card status, then contended for the belt, only to be pushed back down. Kane has always searched for a friend. All of them turned their backs on him. So, by that, he assembles a crew of wrestlers, much like his brother did. He then pursues the World Title. So Kane wants to be another Undertaker? What is it with younger brothers? Why can’t they find their own identity? Why couldn’t Kane think for himself? Oh my God, did that just come out of my mouth? Did I just say that. Say I didn’t. Why all know Kane has a few screws loose. What am I thinkin’? I take that back. He’s not just crazy, Kane is dumb. He’s an idiot! I guess it’s good to see the retard talkin’ a little more… No it’s not. Ha! I wonder where that change came from? King Kane. Now that has possibility. I kind of like the way that sounds. Uh, no, nevermind. Kane’s not good enough to be King of the Ring.

Many of you want to know why I should be King of the Ring. You have a right to seek the answer to this question. To those who already know why, well, I told ya' you were smart. Let me break it down the People of The Rock, or the Jericholics. Mr. Ass is the best thing to ever happen to all of sports entertainment. His charisma and in-ring ability are far too much for the ordinary wrestler, and that's just the same for the "talented" wrestlers. I am the superstar of superstars and the wrestler of wrestlers. Me not King of the Ring? As long as I'm in the tournament, you can bet your ass that I'm coming out on top, everytime. I have brought wrestlers out of retirement, because they want to prove themselves to me. I have put wrestlers to the end of their careers, because losing to me was far too much to handle, and facing me was an unmentionable torture. It's my time, as Triple H would say, but his time has already past. He had his fifteen minutes of fame, and now it's time for those who deserve the spotlight to take it for the long haul. I am the one and only deserving wrestler of the spotlight and the World Tile. Do you still want to know why I should be King of the Ring? Well, it's all in the name. King Hardy? King Edge? King Edge's little brother? King Kane? King Angle? No. None of it sounds as good as King Ass...

Billy smiles as the cameraman slumps into the seat, sleeping like a little kid. The camera falls into the crevice between the backseat and front seat. As the scene fades, Billy says...

Mr. Ass: Hey, where the hell are we goin'?

This has been an Ass Production, constructed for your viewing pleasure to stimulate the mind in intellectual thinking, and to turn on the ladies with the ever so frequent flashings of the Ass Man, Billy Gunn.

 The celebrities presented in this catastrophe, some celebrities were abused both physically and verbally. For those of you who have a problem with that, Ass Productions has three words for you…