This is a message brought to you from the dysfunctional folks at Ass Productions. Under the consent of Mr. Ass, who surprisingly showed a bit of compassion for the Church Boy, Booker T, our last production with the world renowned Billy Gunn was quite inexplicit. Mr. Ass pleaded with us, saying that Booker T would have a heart attack if he considered Jeff Jarrett, the guitar wielding redneck, immoral. Mr. Ass didn't want to give Booker T an excuse to weasel out overdue ass kicking from the Ass Man. Yet, the genius that is Billy Gunn has informed us that the first segment, was merely the bridge between mild and extreme. We have now been permitted to venture into the extreme content for the segment that follows this message. With the bridge, Booker T should be able to handle the explicit nature of our work, since the bridge provided a taste of it. Now, without further ado, we bring you the second installment of Double Date: An Ass Kickin' Original. Sit back, relax, and enjoy. Thank you.
We're not in Kansas anymore, Billy. This is an entirely different ball game, but it's a ball game that you can control. It's a land ruled by stables, and you stand alone. One man against them all. You are a stable in your own right. The ability that you possess, if focused, can wipe out an entire stable.
||They'll question and test you. This will not be a cakewalk. Everything you want, will no longer fall into your hands. It's time that you go out and get it. You are the future of World Championship Wrestling. It's your time, and your time alone. You are, the Top Gunn. The Badd Ass. You are the Ass Man!|
The Badd Ass Billy Gunn
Los Angeles, California. It's a beautiful day in one of the most beautiful places in the United States, and even the world. Sadly, however, the still incarcerated Billy Gunn, does not see a glimpse of this sunlight. As we all know, Billy Gunn was put in jail, but the reason has yet to be revealed, but the story is quite interesting, and it will only get better. Billy Gunn is the center of attention here in this station. Not only have his cell mates been all ears, and cooperative, but now the guards have ventured in this sector, and are awaiting the rest of this story, about how such a respected man like Billy Gunn, was landed in jail. Well, maybe not respected, but important all the same. I sit here, on this stool, next to Derek, who seems to never get tired with that camera on his shoulder. He's a professional, that's for sure. I wish I had that expertise an interviewer. It looks like this is my day off. Billy Gunn hates interviews, and I can't say I don't blame him. We're over used, and abused. Sometimes, while I'm interviewing on of the other wrestlers here in World Championship Wrestling, I wonder to myself, "Why am I doing this?" Maybe Billy's style will be the start of something new. Either way, I'm making money. He stands, and all assembled take notice. It's show time. A path is provided to the same position Billy stood earlier. He leans against the bars, and his arms dangle through them. He calls for a beer from one of the guards, and upon request, the bottle is thrown to him. He takes a sip, and holds it in his hands. He smiles, and says...
Mr. Ass: This is the good stuff. You cops know how to party, huh? What brings you here?
There are two guards. One, a rookie. About the age of twenty. The other, a veteran. The veteran responds...
Veteran Cop: I guess you can say that, Mr. Gunn. I mean, these beers are only half the party. You be done right impressed with us, when we bring in the whores. My friend, you promise them a release, and they'll do anything! And I mean anything! Yeah, I'd say we know how to party, Mr. Gunn.
Mr. Ass: I see, but this method of partying can't be legal.
I am quite surprised at what I hear here... He sounds like Booker T! Everything suddenly became silent right after he said it. I guess I'm not the only one who feels this way. Mr. Goody Two Shoes. Billy then laughs, and everyone joins in on the laughter. Figures. This is Billy Gunn here.
Mr. Ass: I know exactly what you mean, Officer Dan. However, Booker T would take you into the restroom and wash your mouth out with soap if he ever heard you say such a thing.
Veteran: Well, fuck Booker T!
All of the cell inhabitants scream and throw their arms in the arm. Billy smiles, and says...
Mr. Ass: Come on, Officer Dan. Booker T is a very nice guy. Too nice, actually. He told Jarrett that he was going to win the Hardcore Title Match off of hard work and morals. He told Jarrett that he had no morals. Well, when the talking was over, and it was time to put up, or shut up, guess who put up, and guess who was shut up. That's right, Jarrett "put up" his foot, and drove it up Booker T's ass. Yes, he kicked Booker T's ass! Guess who was shut up. Yes, Booker T was "shut up" when Jarrett, despite everything Booker T said, won the Hardcore Title. The title Booker T wanted and vowed to win. Booker T lost, and he will taste a loss once again, Monday Night, on Nitro. Booker T had his ass royally kicked when he went one on one with Jeff Jarrett, and Test wasn't there to assist him. I mean, Booker T was pathetically dominated by Jarrett. The Bash at the Beach made Booker T look terrible. What do the fans think about their nice guy? Sure, you can pass a guy who believe in all morals, and abides by them at every given opportunity, but I believe it can effect your work. Maybe Booker T isn't as bad as the critics say, but perhaps it's his lack of aggression. You must have that in this sport. No other sport demands it more, other than football. Booker T just doesn't have that aggression. This is another reason why I will own his ass in the ring. What makes him think he can handle me? He's out of his damn mind T. Oh yeah, I asked for the match. I guess he's scared as hell. He's just too nice, people. You see, this is what it comes down to. Nice guys really do finish last.
Veteran: I agree, Mr. Gunn. If I were a nice guy, and did follow the "Honor Code", like Booker T, where would I be today?
Rookie: You'd probably be a captain, but instead, you're about 15 years into the force, and you just got promoted to days ago, from security cop. He's been caught with the whores, and buying dope from the dealers we bring through. I'm surprised they haven't fired him.
Veteran: Well who the fuck do you think you are?! I've been here for a very long time, buster. I work my ass off day in and day out! You have no right you little pecker licker!
Rookie: No, you're the one licking the peckers! Just ask Officer Nightingale in Homicide!
The veteran cop dashes toward the rookie, who's about ten feet away from where he stood. The mid point between them lies perpendicular with Billy. Billy, cups the beer, and tosses it right in the midpoint. It shatters behind us, and all I can think about is the broken glass that could bury in my skin. I rise quickly, and get away from the scene. I stand off a bit, so I can watch the entire thing though. Derek does the same. The veteran stops in his tracks, and looks at Billy. The rookie does the same.
Mr. Ass: You miss understood. The both of you. Wrestling is a sport where following morals is an automatic label of weakness. On the police for, the higher the morale, the better position you're in. Where am I? Of course I don't follow morals, especially like Booker T. I'm Billy Gunn, the Ass Man, the Badd Ass! Could you imagine just where'd I be if I did have morals?
Here we are at a World Championship Wrestling Event. It looks like, thanks to the nice people at Ass Productions, we'll be able to see just how I would be if I followed ethics, like Booker T. The Establishment Music hits the speakers, as Billy Gunn makes his way to the ring. It's Bash at the Beach! There I am, with black gloves, black books, black knees pads, and black wrestling trunks. Hmm... Oh, and there's some kind of "Breathe Right" strip across my nose. You know, I look a lot like Booker T, but I'm white, and I look a bit more athletic, which I am. There are other difference, but the wrestling attire and the way I carry myself is the same. No ass shaking, no women screaming. No, make it all stop!
Tony Schiavone: Here comes good ole' Billy T to the ring. He's a really nice guy, you know that. I mean, he didn't screw his wife until they were married. He doesn't swear. And he's a Momma's Boy. How nice.
Oh my God. What a terrible existence... Ah,
we've skipped to the match.
Tony Schiavone: ...Jarrett with a hard elbow to the gut of Test. He goes to the ring and gets out a baseball bat! He hits Billy T in the left leg! Billy T is laying on the thumbtacks now and Jarrett hits Billy T in the left leg again! And now he hits him in the chest area! Oh man this is horrible! Jarrett gets a table out now and sets it up outside the ring. Jarrett puts Billy T on it then puts Test on top of Billy T! Oh man!
Scott Hudson: Jarrett is going to the top rope now! I hope he isn't going to do what I think he's going to do! He jumps off the top rope and hits both men with a flying elbow! Holy Moly! What a fall that was! I can't believe it. Jarrett gets Billy T into the ring now. Jarrett hits The Stroke on-
Mr. Ass: Stop! I've seen enough. If followed the rules, and just be a good guy, I'd suck. Yes, I'd really suck, just like Booker T. Booker T is not a good symbol for morals in the wrestling business, because fans do not want to pull for a loser like himself. No wrestler on top, right now, follows morals to a tee, like Booker T. The Undertaker? My friends, this is the Undertaker. He has done some under handed crap his day, that I'm sure doesn't follow the "Honor Code", like 'Boy Scout' Booker T. Buff Bagwell? No way. We saw what he did at the last Pay Per View. Joining 'Fuck the World' is the ultimate way to say, 'Fuck Morals!' Hollywood Hogan? Ha! Next please. Ah, Jeff Jarrett. Yes, Booker T's buddy, Jeff Jarrett. Booker T said it himself. He's a better man than Jeff Jarrett, and in many ways, I agree with him. He also said he was the better wrestler. Guess what, he was proven wrong. You know, maybe Booker T isn't such a good guy after all. I mean, he promised his fans that he would come out on top in his match for the Hardcore Championship. Sadly, he got his ass kicked. I guess it's not that sad, but what kind of morals are those? You don't lie to people, Booker T. Booker T lied to everyone, so how can they take him seriously. When he comes back with his crap segment, where you talk to he talks to his camera buddy, we can't take you seriously when you say you're going to beat me. You don't follow through with promises very well, Booker T. You can't have wrestlers swearing that they'll win a match, and then get whooped for their trouble. I think you should think about this, Booker T, before you begin to say anything, and I mean anything to me.
Veteran: Sorry... I now see the error of my ways.
The veteran cop begins to cry, and he runs out of the sector as if he were retarded. Whoa, the people you meet in Los Angeles. Billy shakes his head, and says...
Mr. Ass: Now you know what crack can do to you. Anyway, people, are we ready for the end of the story?
The entire cell block ignites in cheer, as Billy Gunn does the same. We return to our stools, and get ready for the rest of the story...
Mr. Ass: Let's do it...
An Ass Production
An Ass Kickin' Original
The bright sun on the horizon, shines it's ray on the express way in which I was traveling, as approximately, 6:55 p.m. Yeah, five minutes until seven, and I'm not even close to her house. She's really going to kill me for this. Here I am, in the suit you see me wearing in this jail cell, sweating, and pissed off. I'm going ninety miles per hour here. This is an emergency, because if I'm late, well, I don't want to think about it. This is where I snap. I usually keep my cool, but this old lady just cuts me off out of no where. She's a typical old woman who has no place on the road. Inch thick lenses in her glasses, a hat decorated with flowers, and an unhealthy lean into the dash board of the car. Look at the car. A Cadillac, no doubt, and old indeed. Yet, she cut me off! I'll handle this... I drive along side of her, and shoot her the bird.
Mr. Ass: Stay off the road you old bitch!
Old Bitch: Fuck you, dick head! Just let me get something, and I'll shut your ass up for good...
And then she pulls out the shotgun. I'm doing 120 miles per hour now, in this lightweight Porsche. Surprisingly, I make it to Cameron's house with three minutes to spare. I park the car right in front, and a butler walks from inside the house. I stand just aside from my car, to see what he wants. He walks right up to me, nods, in his black suit with a tail, and white hair.
Butler: Mr. Gunn, I take it? Welcome to Casa de Diaz. I am Hebert, fifty five years old, and native of Spain.
Mr. Ass: I don't wanna know your freakin' life story pal. There's no need to take and park my car. I'm probably not going in.
Butler: Yes, Ms. Diaz says that she's going to kill you when come to the door. Good luck. I just came out to warn you...
The butler laughs to himself, and stays in place. I walk up the stairs, which is quite a long stair case. Upon reaching the door, I look back, and the Spanish Native is cracking up. I find this confusing. I hope he's not laughing at me, or I swear I'll kick his ass. I turn back around and ouch! Cameron just punched me dead in the nose. The pain...
Mr. Ass: Dammit! Son of a bitch!
Cameron Diaz: That's for hanging up on my Billy.
Mr. Ass: But in the nose? The nose?!
She closes the door behind her. I can hear Herbert, or Hebert, well, whatever his name is, laughing in the background. She wraps her arm around mine, and we head to the car. By the time we reach the car, the pain is pretty much gone, but not forgotten. I finally look up, and focus on Cameron. My God... An all white, two piece dress. One part bottom, and on part top. Hey, I'm a guy. I can't give you the correct terms. The bottomline, I did not want to go on this double date. It would have suited me just fine to walk back in that house, and get it on! Booker T would never even think something like that. He's too good of a guy. Hebert laughs behind me. Cameron sees just how pissed I am, and she whispers to me not to do it. He shake my head, and smile. She smiles too, and gives me a kiss on the cheek. I open the door for her, and she takes a seat. I then close the door behind her. Herbert, still laughing. It was all a ploy to get Cameron out of my hair. I turn to Herbert with a sadistic smile on my face. He's still laughing. I punch the butler in the stomach, then across his face. He stumbles into the street. He begs for mercy, and I decide not to give it to him. This uppercut I land should to the trick. The butler is sent into the air after this uppercut, and he falls on my car. He still laughing. I get into the car, and Cameron is looking in the mirror, adjusting make up and whatnot. She asks what's going on, but I know she doesn't really care, so I tell her...
Mr. Ass: Well, the butler just did...
Cameron Diaz: That's nice, Billy.
I back the car up, and the butler slides off. He's on the ground now, laughing, and seriously, that wasn't funny. It least not that funny. He hasn't stopped. I run this guy over. The bumps smudge Cameron's makeup, and once again she's upset. She turns to be, and tells me to learn how to drive. No problem, because this is a very happy time. He's not laughing- Wait, I turn around to see my work, and the guy is up again, and laughing at me. Now that ain't right. I get the hell out of there. We're on the road, and on our way to this prestigious restaurant. Cameron saw Bash at the Beach. Her thoughts are interesting... I'll share them with you.
Mr. Ass: Cameron, look. I have a match on Monday, and I want to take a few cheap shots at my opponent. It would be pretty cool if you would do the same. I mean, it hurts a man's pride when a woman comes down on him a bit. Makes him question his man hood. Booker T needs this before he walks into our match on Nitro.
Cameron Diaz: Who is Booker T?
Mr. Ass: You remember, the guy I was cussin' at while we watched that Bash at the Beach program.
Cameron Diaz: Oh yeah, the guy who got his butt kicked. Why would you pick him to fight, Billy?
Mr. Ass: I picked at random.
Cameron Diaz: While, when his name came up, you should have dismissed it. He's sad, Billy. He can't wrestle without his friends. You remember the matches we saw. Poor Jeff Jarrett was being beat up by this pathetic guy, Booker, and his friend Test. But once Jarrett got Booker T by himself, he showed him who's boss. You saw bad he was beat up. He never touched Jarrett when it was just those two, one on one. I've never seen anything like it, unless you're in the ring beating someone up. I wonder, was Jarrett just that good, or is this guy just that bad? It has to be this guy. He almost lost that other match too, when he and his little friend were in a team match-
Mr. Ass: Tag Team Match, Cameron.
Cameron Diaz: Whatever Billy, I'm doing the best I can here. Anyway, before I was so rudely interrupted, the little guy won the match all by himself. And Booker T was about to lose it all by himself. The way I see it, Billy, Booker T has no place in the wrestling ring, but I do think it's sweet that he's such a nice guy. That's good for the kids.
Mr. Ass: Okay, Cameron. That's enough.
Cameron Diaz: No, no, no. I have more. You should be more like Booker T, Billy. He's such a nice person. Not a good wrestler, but a nice person.
Time passes, conversations change and this is where, for the first time ever, I'm really mad at Cameron, and she returns the favor. We're talking about Sea World in San Antonio compared to the other Busch Garden establishments, and she brings this up...
Cameron Diaz: Billy, I want to wrestle.
Mr. Ass: Whoa. Well, I don't think we can do it in the car, but I can take you to my hotel room, and we can do it there.
Cameron Diaz: No Billy. I want to wrestle in World Championship Wrestling. You know, the place you work now. You remember the show they had on Monday, where the women were wrestling. Well, I want that title that they carry around.
Mr. Ass: No.
Cameron Diaz: What? Who do you think you are? Ever since you won King of the Ring, and achieved all of this success, you have been acting as if you own me. You don't own me Billy, and I'll do whatever I please, whenever I feel like doing it.
Mr. Ass: All the women in this promotion are sluts, Cameron. You shouldn't be affiliated with them. Besides, you're an actor, they're professional female wrestlers. You wouldn't stand a chance, and I don't want to sacrifice your beautiful body for a cheap "I told you so".
Cameron Diaz: It's not your body, Billy. It's my body, and if I want to sacrifice it, then dammit, I want to sacrifice it.
Mr. Ass: You know this is ridiculous. Almost as ridiculous as a double date with Whitney Houston and Bobby Brown. What were you thinking?
Cameron Diaz: I'm glad we had this argument, because you're showing your truly colors, Monty!
Mr. Ass: Don't call me that!
We go on like an old married couple until we arrive at the restaurant. This restaurant doesn't have a name, so it must be great. It's quite, but the cars parked in the vicinity are extremely expensive. It must be a popular hang out among the stars, or at least the rich.
Mr. Ass: I'm going to cut it right here, people...
Well damn, I thought we were going to get the entire story. I feel cheated. I was hoping for some explicit listening, but I got none. He's holding back. It all starts at the date. Hints the name, Double Date. Monty? What the hell? I just thought about that. Well, I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation. I'll just ask...
Interviewer: Mr. Gunn-
Mr. Ass: You, shut the fuck up!
Gosh, I guess I won't be asking that question. He really hates us WCW Interviewers. A shame, really a shame.
Mr. Ass: Derek put that camera on me. It should be there at all times. I want to address Booker T. Head on. I have a few things to say to him. I want him to understand exactly where I'm coming from. Booker T is the reason the story was cut short. It's imperative that he understands and realizes just how great of a wrestler I am. I have been belittling his existence since I began here in World Championship Wrestling. I have made him question whether or not he belongs in a wrestling ring. I have brought up things like his lose to Jarrett, and his near loss of the tag team match at Bash at the Beach. Booker T may not be in the best spirits right now. However, never fear. The problem lies here. I haven't told him about Billy Gunn. He doesn't really have a clue as to what he's going up against. He doesn't know just how good I am. Booker T, I am the Ass Man. I am the Badd Ass. I am the alpha and omega. I am the beginning and the end. The end of your career. A lose to me, would destroy you, I promise. Billy Gunn keeps his promises, unlike you. Understand this, Booker T. This is me and you. This is not Mr. Ass versus The Establishment. You have yet to show me that you can wrestle on your own, and I am anxious to see if you have that ability. I doubt you do, because hey, you're about to embark on something that you could never imagine. I am someone that put you on the shelf for a very long time, and if I say it's going to to happen, it's going to happen. You may come back and say how you're a harder worker, which you are. I agree with you. I was born with this body. I was born with this incredible psyche. You weren't born with yours. You had to build it the old fashion way, and it still pales in comparison to mine. You will come back with your win over Stone Cold Steve Austin, which you see as an accomplishment. No one else cares, and I, for one, am one of those people. Beating Stone Cold Steve Austin was like winning a title to you. You could leave World Championship Wrestling, right now, a happy man because you beat The Rattlesnake. I swear, that's the worse thinking from a wrestler I have ever heard in my life. The way you speak about it, you shouldn't have won. You're put in a place where, despite the fact that you beat Austin, you're still his inferior. You just snuck one by him, on a lucky day. I don't believe in luck. Monday will not be lucky for you. It won't even be lucky for me. I'm going to beat you because I'm better.
I was born better, and I will die better than you. You were born to be my inferior. This is not my doing. I appreciate the gift from God, where he gave me the ability to be the greatest athlete here, and the greatest wrestler, however, I didn't ask for it. I know for a fact that you didn't ask to be so terrible of a wrestler. I know you didn't. Don't hate me 'cause I'm that damn good. You will never be me, and you will never be as good as me. You know this, I know this, and the entire federation knows this. There's no need for any hate to be between us. Don't drag this into a personal issue, because some of the remarks I have made are stinging. I don't dislike you and I don't hate you. You're just a name that I drew at random for my first match in World Championship Wrestling. Maybe it wasn't the best thing for me to face the worse Establishment member. It's a good win, but not earth shattering. I suggest you plan on what you can do to turn your career around after our match, when I make you famous with the Fame-Ass-Er, and you stare at the rafters for a three count. Three seconds are so important in wrestling. Just three seconds can make or break a career in some instances. Three seconds can fire someone on the spot. Three seconds can make a person feel like the best wrestling in the world today, or a failure, like Booker T. You failed, when you said you couldn't. No one can take you seriously. You may say you're going to beat me, but after your performance at Bash at the Beach, who will listen to a liar like yourself? I won't. When you tell me you're going to beat me, I'm going to laugh in your face, and beat your ass. You're words are not in the least bit intimidating. You are nothing, and you never will be. Tear yourself from The Establishment, and just see how far you go... Thursday Thunder I started, knocking you out with the Fame-Ass-Er. Monday Night Nitro, I drive the stake in your pathetic little heart, finishing what I started with the Fame-Ass-Er. That headache on Thunder was only the beginning. Only the beginning. I've said some things that may hurt, and I assure you, I meant everything I said, and if you're not down with that, I've got three words for ya'!
Kiss My Ass!
Billy's words were strong, and I could tell he meant every word. Monday Nitro will be a war between Billy Gunn and Booker T. Right now, as the segment's go by, Billy just gets better and better. Does he have a peak, or does he just get better and better, without a limit. If the latter is correct, World Championship Wrestling will be taken by storm by Ass...