Hardcore? Mr. Ass isn't Hardcore! Nor does he care about such a title. His objective? Destroy Jeff Jarrett. And why? Simply, Jarrett thinks he's the next thing to ever happen to this federation. Mr. Ass begs to differ. Jarrett, a proven loser, will without a doubt lose yet again, to a true superstar and legend. 

His name? Billy Gunn. His weapon of choice? The ever effective Fame-Ass-Er. Weapons are unnecessary. Jackhammers and Fame-Ass-Ers are the only weapons he needs to complete this mission. Mission: Putting Jeff Jarrett in his place... The mid cards. Mr. Ass will get this done.

Mr. Ass
The Badd Ass Billy Gunn

The scene opens in Austin, Texas, the capital of Texas, of course, in the home, and more specifically, the room of Billy Gunn. He's quite the pig. Clothes are scattered here and there. His blanket is half off his bed and his shoes look as if they've been thrown about the room. The room is quite large, and this shouldn't be surprising. Billy Gunn is a mega-superstar, and a very wealthy man. He lays in his bed. This king size bed that's quite a mess, but nonetheless, Billy Gunn sleeps with the utmost comfort. This is until his alarm sounds, and he shoots out of his bed. He looks as if he's seen a ghost, but it was actually the sudden sounding of the alarm. Billy Gunn throws his sheet to the side, and puts on his bracelet, a bit dizzy. He stumbles to the door, but along the way, he stumps his toe. Billy begins to jump up and down in pain, holding the foot of the injured toe. While doing this, he hops on a silk shirt laying on the wooden floored area of the room. He slips on it, smacking the back of his head on the floor. 

Mr. Ass: Sometimes, you just see a bad day coming. This will be a bad day. All the symptoms of a bad day are here. I mean, we have the unusual alarm clock sound. I don't have an alarm clock, so I ask you, where the hell did it come from. I stump my toe on my bed leg post, then slip on a damn silk shirt that I never wear. I haven't been up five minutes yet. No matter, however. Better now than Thunder, right? Straight off my big victory over a man who swore I could never come close to beating, I have another match. This time, for a title, and a major stipulation, of which I don't give a fuck about. Why should I? I don't gain from the stipulation, and I am beginning to question whether or not I gain by winning the Hardcore Championship. Really, I don't have to beat this man by picking up a chair, bat, or even a JVC Kaboom! Box. No, it's not necessary. I have enough skill to take this man out without resorting to weapons. You know what, I will, just to prove a point. That's right, I'm not going to pick up one weapon in my match with... Well, the name of this person slips my mind. Obviously, he doesn't pose as a threat to beating me. At least I knew Booker T's name. Back to the Hardcore Championship, this is a crap title if I have ever seen one! I feel as though, when I win this title, I'll be labeled for life. I can't deal with that. I'm tempted about handing the title to the unconscious opponent after I beat him on Thunder. I'm sure there are other titles out there that can compliment my skills, and not depreciate them, like the Hardcore Championship is capable of doing. I, for one, believe that the holding of the Hardcore Title has held Booker T back, dominating belts of only the Hardcore caliber. Booker T, a hard worker, and a very talented man, and wasted away the talent that he possesses on this Hardcore Title. It just doesn't seem right to me, and it shouldn't. One thing is for sure, I won't have a bad day on Thunder. No sir... My opponent will, whoever he may be.

The door bell rings, and Billy rises to his feet quickly. Out bursts the sprinting Billy Gunn from his large, but dirty master bedroom. He's wearing only boxers, a black bandana on his head, and his beaded necklace. he races down the stairs of his mansion in northern Austin. He slides on the wooden floor leading up to the front door. There, he loses control, and smashes into the door. He shakes his head, and opens the door. To his surprise, there stands a small boy, who looks to be only nine or ten years old. In the distance, he can see someone waving from a station wagon in the circular driveway. They drive away, and Billy has a lost for words.

Kid: Cousin Gunn! It's me, Colin Ripley. You remember me don't you?

Mr. Ass: Oh, Colin. Hey man, I'm surprised to see you here. Come on, follow me.

Billy Gunn motions the boy into the house. He waddles in after him, and closes the door behind him. Billy walks to the left, with the boy shortly behind them. They reach a room with a pool table, big screen television, a bar, and much more. He snaps his fingers, and points to a couch in the room. Colin takes a seat on the couch, and Billy walks to his bar, and begins to remove a couple glasses from cabinets.

Colin Ripley: Well... 

Mr. Ass: Well, what?

Colin Ripley: Well, you didn't have much excitement about seeing me. You used to say I was your favorite cousin. What happened to that, Billy? And, you better get your ass ready, we're suppose to go fishin'!

Mr. Ass: Whoa man. You want me jumping up and down at the sight of you? You gotta be kiddin', kid. I'm Billy Gunn. Like the Fonz would say, that's just not cool. As for fishin', I don't fish.

Colin Ripley: Good, 'cause neither do I. That's what Dad said we were going to do. He said he called you, and you were all for it. It's good to see that you're against it. Can we go to Six Flags Fiesta Texas?

Mr. Ass: When did your Dad call?

Colin Ripley: Oh, I think about eleven last night.

Mr. Ass: Dammit... I was drunk.

Colin Ripley: Oh... I see. Well, can we go to Six Flags?

Mr. Ass: Yeah, why not?

The kid jumps up and down, as Billy takes a sip his drink, and walks over to Colin and hands him a drink. The scene fades there, and re-opens on the outside of Billy's home. We catch a site of this house, and it is nothing short of incredible. Colin runs to the red Porshe Convertible that Billy owns. Billy pops the lock with the electrical key, and Colin enters in his World Championship Wrestling shirt, that reads 'Fuck the World' on the back. He wearing light blue jeans with this shirt, and holding a case on his lap. Billy throws some coolers in the trunk along with some bags. He shuts it, then slides into the driver's seat without even opening the door. Billy starts the car, and they're on their way, on this afternoon.

Mr. Ass: Why are you wearing that shirt?

Colin Ripley: Fuck the World is the greatest stable ever! Shawn Michaels, Mankind, The Road Dogg... The list is endless. I wish they were still around.

Mr. Ass: What about the current Fuck the World?

Colin Ripley: I think it sucks, Billy. We never see this new crew of Fuck the World. I mean, it's hurts everything the original Fuck the World accomplished.

Mr. Ass: Stop saying 'fuck', okay? Damn, you're pretty advanced for a kid who isn't even a teen yet. I guess that's what wrestling does to America's youth.

Colin Ripley: Why don't you kick Rhino, Hall, or Austin's asses? You could show them a thing or two, Cousin Billy!

Mr. Ass: I don't give a damn about Fuck the World. I haven't crossed them, and they haven't crossed me.

Colin Ripley: Yeah, but all of that is going to change, Billy. You joined the Coalition. A rising power in World Championship Wrestling. 

Mr. Ass: I guess you have a point. I mean, sooner or later, we're going to have to cross paths. Yet, I feel they are past their time. They are not a threat to me. The Establishment poses as more of a threat than Fuck the World. Fuck the World isn't even active. All they do is hang around the arenas where we have World Championship Wrestling shows. They bore the hell out of the crowd when they're music hits, and I doubt anyone sticks around for Bischoff's rants at the end of each card. Once he comes out, everyone knows the show is over, and they leave right then and there. I know I do. Fuck the World... Can go fuck themselves. They are no longer a threat, and the only reason they're still around is Bischoff just doesn't know how to let go. Fuck the World holds World Championship Wrestling down, but he doesn't see that. He doesn't see that it's over, and he doesn't see that The Coalition is next in line for the throne of the top players in Sports Entertainment today. The sky is the limit, and Scott Hall is a freakin' fool for joining Fuck the World. That's what I think of your screwed up, hasbeen stable, little Ripley.

Colin Ripley: Right now, you guys aren't that strong, so Fuck the World is going to try and wipe you out before you get too good. Nice job by kicking Kidman to the curb. He sucks major ass, Billy. You should have kicked his ass instead of Booker T's. Why did you join the Coalition?

Mr. Ass: Where do you get this mouth from? God damn, I haven't seen a kid curse so much since me, when I was a kid. The Coalition is has the potential to be the top stable in World Championship Wrestling. Fuck The World has like one active member. The others just stalk Monday Nitro. The Establishment seems to be in turmoil, and the only stable faction would be the Coalition. Scott Hall is a fool to think he can fend off against all of us. He's crazy, but if that's his plan, fine. Bagwell made that mistake, and he quickly fixed it. Smart man. Hilarious too. Joining the Coalition felt like the right thing to do. Buff and I are pretty good friends, and I believe The Undertaker and I have an understanding. You see, it's all about aligning yourself with the right people in this federation, and sticking yourself in the right places. That's the way you get the title shots, and things of that nature. Yet, don't get me wrong, talent level is the main reason. I'm one of the top talents in this federation, and my potential is limitless. I'm one of the top guys here. Maybe, just maybe, I'm giving the Coalition a bit too much credit for my recent success, which would be a shot at a title. That can be argued too. Really, is being given a shot at the Hardcore Championship success? I mean, it is a title, so I guess it counts for something. Yet, it just doesn't sit right with me. I dunno. I would have rather been given a Television Championship Title shot... Nah. To be perfectly honest, I want the World, but I'm no fool. Every person in this promotion wants the World Title. The difference between me and them, however, is I have the ability to do it. I have shown this ability before. I guess it's time to do it again.

Colin Ripley: So that would explain Jeff Jarrett's situation. He's an pretty average wrestler, but he's just not important. The fans don't respond to him for the most part, and this past Bash at the Beach was his first title shot, after joining a long while back. Yet, here you are, and in your second match, you'll be contending for a title. Cool!

Mr. Ass: Who will I be facing for the Hardcore Championship? I forgot.

Colin Ripley: Jeff Jarrett. The guy who thinks people actually like to watch him. When he stands in the middle of the ring, the fans get burning sensations. Yeah, they have to take a piss! It's piss-break for the fans when there's a Jarrett match goin'. It's fun to watch him when he goes up against the truly entertaining guys. He always loses those matches.

Mr. Ass: Oh, no wonder I didn't remember him. This guy is a proven loser. Buff Bagwell, fellow Coalition member, kicked his ass, and Scott Hall, a member of Fuck the World, kicked his ass... Twice! I'm sure he'll throw his recent accomplishments in my face. The Hardcore Championship is hardly something to brag about. Just ask Booker T. Tag Team Championship are definitely nothing to brag about, just ask Booker T. I won't be fighting his accomplishments, to they'll be no need to bring them up. I'll be wrestling Jeff Jarrett. When you put aside his self proclaimed nicknames, and you strip him of his arrogance, you have a small man in comparison to me. You have a man who hides behind a name like Mr. Excitement, because, let's face it, I've never met a fan who finds Jeff Jarrett even remotely exciting. Actually, he's quite the opposite. He's rather boring, y'know? All he talks about is how he brings ratings, but he never does. I can say I'm the King of England, and remind everyone of this every time I have a microphone in my hand, but I guarantee to you it doesn't make it so. This is a perfect example for Jeff Jarrett. Maybe he'll open his eyes and realize that he has yet to be involved in the most headlined happenings in World Championship Wrestling. We see that Jeff Jarrett believes he has the potential to actually lead this company. He honestly believes he could be the franchise wrestler for this promotion. We all know the end of that story if Jarrett was to ever be counted on to lead a company. Simple. He'd choke. Everyone in their right mind, even Shakira, who left his sorry ass, knows that Jarrett's talk never follows his actions. How the hell could he be a franchise wrestler? Then there's his claim to being a phenomenon, when he bares no extraordinary attribute. What's so unique about this guy? What does he have that no one else does? Not a damn thing.

Colin Ripley: I wonder if he knows just who you are...

Mr. Ass: Probably not. I'm the rookie prodigy around here. I'm leaving people speechless, because they never saw me coming, and neither will Jarrett. He can assume he knows much about me, perhaps because he saw one of my matches with Booker T. Yet, Booker T was the only man who experienced just how damn good I am. No one else. Many can compliment me, saying I', a great competitor and whatnot, but I feel as though they have no clue that I'm really much better than they label me to be. I know, that's saying a lot, because before my first match, I was considered one of the top ten wrestlers in this place. Now, I'm set to wonder, where the hell do I stand now? Between us, there's only one man who can rightfully claim the alias of Mr. Excitement, although the name sucks, and I'd never want it. Oh, I guess I spoiled it. Yes, me, and only me. Historically, I bring the noise, Jarrett. I bring the fans, I bring entertainment that this promotion needs. You see, when you first arrived, you weren't elevated to much, other than matches here and there with those of less talent than yourself. Lately, you have been on the rise, but because you have worked for it, but you fail to realize what you have done, because you're wrapped up in being something that you're not. Entertaining. Upon arrival, I've been considered one of the top gunns, and make no mistake, I deserve it. Booker T asked me, 'Why would they do that when you haven't proven yourself in this federation?' Here's my response, because I'm that good. Damn good! World Championship Wrestling knows what they have in me. They know that I'm the type of performer that, along with their established performers, can elevate this company farther than it has ever gone. You? No, my friend. You are not at my level. In the eyes of Billy Gunn, you are stripped of the title Mr. Excitement, because you're boring. You're stripped of the title The Entertainment Machine, because you produce about as much entertainment as day old bread. As for being a phenomenon, you're hereby stripped of that too. I now deem you, Larry King, you boring bastard.

Colin Ripley: Ouch, Larry King? Come on, Billy. That's a bit harsh. 

Mr. Ass: It's a harsh business, little Colin. Sometimes the worse comes out of me, yet, I'm always at my best. This is why I'm the rookie prodigy, and why Jarrett is no phenomenon. You see, he has nothing that catches the eyes of the critics, executives, or his fellow wrestlers. His wrestling skill is limited, and a Front Russian Legsweep as a finisher has to be the worse finisher eve since the DDT. Who does the DDT? The Brooklyn Brawler. I think everyone knows the guy paid to lose on a regular, despite the fact that we're in another federation. What's so special about Jeff Jarrett? Especially compared to me? He's much smaller than me. He's slower than me. He has far less wrestling maneuvers than me. Oh, and historically, the woman makes the man in the world of Jeff Jarrett. His women win matches for him, and he takes the credit. What's so great about Jeff Jarrett? Maybe his family has the best inbreeds on the eastern side of the Mississippi. It's not a mystery that Jeff Jarrett is a redneck. Hmm... Other than that, there's nothing I can think of. However, there are plenty of ways I could fit the term. No one has a more devastating move than the Fame-Ass-Er. No one. And believe me, The Stroke, comes no where close. Yeah, the Fame-Ass-Er is the top finisher in World Championship Wrestling. Okay, how about my mixture of speed and quickness, with size and power. No one does it better. No one. No one can give a Fame-Ass-Er off the top rope. Name one person, and if you can, he's not active in wrestling today. Yeah, I am the prodigy. I'm the phenomenon. No other person in this promotion can bring it to the table like I can. No questions asked, and no doubts risen. Jarrett, you will lose your crap championship on Thunder, you chump. Can it be stopped? No, it's inevitable. I'm a born winner, and I'm born to entertain. Jarrett was born to lose to people like me, and I guess Bagwell, and Hall fall into that category as well, since you have had your ass kicked by them. I guess I'm going to be the third, and three's a charm, so this is going to be your biggest ass kicking since your arrival. Try me, Jarrett. Just try me.

Colin Ripley: I hope you expose Jarrett, for what he really is. A loser. Well, you have been beat to it, I guess... No problem, just beat him even worse, Billy. Give him the Diving Fame-Ass-Er! Debut that move. You won King of the Ring with it in the other federation.

Mr. Ass: I doubt it'll come to that. I mean, the Fame-Ass-Er will do the job. I find it hard to believe that there is one move stronger than the Fame-Ass-Er, but there is. The Diving Fame-Ass-Er, and only the Diving Fame-Ass-Er. This match will end quick. I'll set him up with the Jackhammer, then knock him down with the Fame-Ass-Er. It will be a pleasure to do this to a person who recycles segments. That was just pathetic! I guess we see just who Jarrett is exactly. I wonder if he'll recycle one against me. Maybe instead of just airing an entire segment on me that he used earlier like he did to Scott Hall, maybe he'll add pieces from others to build it up. Huh? Sounds like a plan, huh? Ah! There it is! No one can recycle a segment look good ole' Jeff Jarrett! Okay Jarrett, you can keep the 'Da Phenomenon' alias. I mean, you have proved to everyone that there is something you can do better than anyone else, and that's reuse a segment. Jarrett, The Pathetic One. Yes, that's another alias for you. I think it fits you perfectly, Jarrett. I mean, you walk around as if you're the top wrestler in World Championship Wrestling, yet, you suck, to put it simply. You live in a fantasy world, and only Shakira joins you there, because when it comes to reality, guys like the Ass Man are right there to knock your ass down. In your second loss to Scott Hall, you realized, you are not what you think you are. You became humble. Wouldn't you agree?

Colin Ripley: I wouldn't agree. After his match with Scott Hall for the second time, he said nothing about it. He acted as if it never happened, yet when he beats someone, he won't let him forget it. Like Booker T. I think Booker T can kick his ass, and I think Juventud and Booker T will take their titles back. The only reason they didn't retain them was they were strapped with matches. Booker T was worried about you, and Juventud was worried about The Artist. Now, they can give their full attention to Jarrett and Corino. Believe me, Jarrett will lose all of his titles on Thunder. Talk about a short lived champion. 

Mr. Ass: I wasn't asking you, but since you brought that up, I'll speak about it. Jarrett's win over Booker T is trivialized because he continues to bring them up. He should let his actions speak for him, but he doesn't have faith in his actions. He has to talk about how he's beaten people here and there. Actually, he hasn't had one impressive victory yet. The Bash at the Beach win? A fluke. Everyone knows the story behind that one. That brings us to his tag team championship realization on Nitro. Let's just say, that day was his moment in the sun, but on Thunder, he'll have his day as, well, him. He luck streak will come to an end, and that's the inevitable. Everyone sees it coming, and he'd better open his eyes. Not that that'll help him any. There's no way he'll get out of the double ass kicking he's going to take on Thunder. Juventud and Booker T are pissed right now. Jarrett's run is about to come to an abrupt stop. Booker T has been beaten a great deal lately. His world has been flipped upside down with the recent screw jobs and losses. I assure you, he's ready to do everything in his power to destroy and only you Jarrett. His intensity will be unmatchable, and the same goes for Juventud Guerrera. Jarrett, you don't know what the fuck you have drawn yourself into. All your bitching about facing Bagwell will come to end. Only a bitch would try and buy a match with a wrestler. Go out and get it. Kick his ass in the ring from behind a few times to get his attention. Maybe 'bitch' is not the correct term. I mean, I do have this kid in the car, on our way to Six Flags Fiesta Texas. It's almost as if it's a family outing. I think the more appropriate term would be 'pussy'. Yes, pussy. Jarrett, you're a pussy. Like I said, only a pussy would try and buy a match with a hated rival. Buff Bagwell has taken your dignity backstage. He has belittled you time and time again. He has made you seem far less than a man. He outsmarted. He has humiliated you and depreciated your very existence, and instead of looking for your revenge, you're looking for a title. Yeah, you're definitely a pussy. Bagwell owns you, and he always will, until you realize that titles aren't everything. Even I, the Ass Man, knows that. Until you realize that titles, especially the Hardcore Title, does not make wrestlers, you'll never be anything worth mentioning. Bagwell is toying with you, and when he puts you in a match against me, that's his way of saying, "You'll never get a title match with me". You should have challenged him to a non-title match, but again, it's all about titles with you. Like I said much earlier, I may just hand you back your Hardcore Title after I beat you. It means nothing to me.

Colin Ripley: Jeff Jarrett sure has been losing a lot lately. He can't beat the top guys in the federation, and the reason why he's beaten Booker T lately, is because Booker T has had other things on his mind. Like getting those tag team titles! I said this before, but I mean it dammit. Jarrett has lost three of his last six matches, and with Booker T tending to other things in his wins over him. which weren't one on one, I'd say that Jarrett is slipping. 

Mr. Ass: No. He's not. Jarrett was never as good as he seemed to be when he first arrived. I remember his arrival. I was in the World Wrestling Federation, beating the hell out of wrestlers like Edge and Christian. Oh, and I hear Edge is the World Champion up there.

Colin Ripley: He had a lot of help, though.

Mr. Ass: Whatever. Anyway, Jarrett was in World Championship Wrestling, running his mouth about how damn good he thought he was. He beat a couple of wrestlers who are probably now forgotten, but lost to the top contenders of the federation. Everytime he goes against true talent, head to head, he loses, and he loses bad. Yeah, he'll steal one when it's not one on one. He can work tag team matches, and triple threat matches. I can't say much more about that, besides saying had I been in that Hardcore Title Match, I would have won. Anyway, when it comes to Jarrett in a singles match against someone who actually displays some talent, he can't contend. He gets lost, then beaten. What do you think is going to happen when he steps into the ring with the Top Gunn? Uh, he'll once again be proven as a loser when it comes to the singles category. Does he think he can beat me, Hardcore or not? He's a damn fool, blinded by his love for himself if he can't see that I'm ten times better than he. I pity those who purposely write me off as not being a threat, because they don't expect the ass kicking they receive when I give it to them. It's his problem, though. Not mine. No mercy here. I can only warn him. 

Colin Ripley: Are you even Hardcore, Billy?

Mr. Ass: Nah, not really. Everyone who comes in for this belt came that they're Hardcore, and they're the most extreme wrestlers you'll ever find. Nah, they're lying. Anyone can say they're Hardcore, but it takes a real man to admit that that's not his game. It's not my game. It doesn't have to be. Why pick up a chair, when my Fame-Ass-Er can do the job more efficiently and far quicker. My moves and hands are far better weapons than weapons. Bats, chairs, and what have you, have nothing on a Jackhammer or a Fame-Ass-Er. Yeah, this isn't bullshit like everything you stand for, Jeff Jarrett. I will win our match on Thunder. I'm too damn good not to. Jarrett to deny the Ass Man, is like Gary Coleman trying to deny Dustin Rhodes a pastry, it's not gonna happen! Jarrett, make yourself a little money and bet against yourself. Don't worry, I promise you'll lose... Twice! I'm too much for you to handle, Jarrett. You have met a man who does not lose, unlike yourself. You are a loser, and you will treated as such on Thunder. Don't try and fight it, or it'll hurt much much more. Mr. Ass is on a run, and it will not come to an end to the likes of you. If you're not down with that, Jarrett, or should I say, The Master of Recycling, or perhaps, The Pathetic One, I've got three words for ya'...

 

Kiss My Ass!

 

The duo pulls into the parking lot of Six Flags Fiesta Texas. The boy jumps up and down, and he and Billy race to the theme park which consumes the background of the scene. Billy grabs the boy by the collar and lifts him up. He puts the little over his shoulders, and goes to the trunk of his car. He then says...

Mr. Ass: Before you go in there, you must change your shirt.

Colin Ripley: Oh come on, what am I suppose to wear?

Billy winks to the camera, with a smile. He then pulls out a Coalition shirt in his duffle back. He then hands it to Colin. Colin looks a bit upset, and then reluctantly take off the FTW shirt. Billy Gunn takes the shirt, and throws it in the trunk. Colin puts on the Coalition shirt. Billy closes the trunk, and the enthusiasm has left the kid. The scene fades there.