Mr. Ass
The Badd Ass Billy Gunn

The scene opens in Austin, Texas once again. Billy Gunn has been laying low for a while since the series brought to you by Ass Productions called "Double Date". He's also alone at this time, because Cameron Diaz, his girlfriend, although you'll never here him say it, is in Los Angeles working on her most recent movie, "Charlie's Angels". So, at this time, Billy has been getting drunk and moping around his luxurious mansion. His maid has quit, along with his butler, because Billy Gunn's filthy habits have been overwhelming them. Here, in his Game Room, sits Billy Gunn. He lounging on his couch, watching a baseball game. A can of Budweiser sits on the stool next to the couch. It's unopened. Billy Gunn keeps glaring at the Bud, then looks at the baseball game. This goes on for a couple of minutes. He's trying to decide whether or not to drink it. If he drinks it, he won't stop, since he has nothing to do. No, Billy Gunn is not a drunk, just bored. He reaches for it, then retracts his arm. He reaches for it again, then retracts again. He does this, wearing nothing but a Mr. Ass t-shirt, with no shorts, just underwear. Briefs. Suddenly, the phone rings, and Billy nearly jumps out of his body. The phone is positioned to the left of the couch, and the stool to the side. Billy picks up the phone, and says...

Mr. Ass: Whaaassssuupp!

Caller: Whaaassssuupp! What are you up to?

Mr. Ass: Uh... Watching the game, about to drink a Bud.

Caller: Well, put it down! We're going to a pool hall tonight. We can pick up some easy cash there. You know, hustling like the old days.

Mr. Ass: Yeah, but in the old days, we needed to money.

Caller: Yeah, that's true. Well, for old times sake, just me and you. C'mon, what do you say?

Mr. Ass: Alright man, let's do it.

Caller: Alright, you know the place. On 6th Street. Be there.

Mr. Ass: Wait, I'm from Austin, so it would make sense if I knew where it was- Cut!

The camera backs away from the room, and we find that it's nothing more than a set. A director, who's seated in a director's chair behind the cameras, throws a booklet to the ground. He's quite upset, as Billy steps out from the stage which is made to look exactly like his game room.

Director: What's wrong now, Billy?

Mr. Ass: Oh, don't act like you don't know. The writer of this script is an idiot. Why would Bagwell know where to go? Besides, we never went to a freakin' pool hall in the "old days"!

Director: So what are you saying?

Mr. Ass: I'm saying call me when Ass Productions has something I can actually work with. I'm dropping this project! 

The director begins screaming at the top of his lungs, cursing at Billy, telling him he's going to sue. Billy stops him by punching him in the stomach, and then gives him the finger. It's hectic on this set. Cameramen and other technical workers are moving from place to place, not knowing that the star of the new series for Ass Productions has just walked away. Buff enters the scene as Billy heads for the exit. He catches up with Billy, and they walk along side each other, and out of the door.

Buff Bagwell: I can't believe you brought me way out here, just to toss the project. That, Billy, was a freakin' waste of time.

Mr. Ass: Remember, I was there too. When I first read the script, it sounded better than that crap.

Buff Bagwell: Eh...

The limo driver on the outside of the studios opens the back door for both Billy Gunn and Buff Bagwell. Before getting into the limo, the driver stops Billy and Buff. He then says...

Driver: Looking smooth, fellas. Looking very smooth.

Buff and Billy look at each other, then laugh. When the driver begins laughing with them they both say...

Mr. Ass/Buff Bagwell: Shut the fuck up!

They get into the limo, and it's closed with aggression by the driver. The back of this limo is very spacious. They take a seat, across from each other. Buff Bagwell facing to front,but farthest back in the limo. Billy sits across from him, seated above the refrigerator. The limo driver buzzes to the backseat using an intercom built into the limo. He then says...

Driver: Where to, fellas?

Buff looks at Mr. Ass, and he just shrugs his shoulders, as if saying, "I don't care."

Buff Bagwell: Well, maybe we should take an idea from our Ass Production egos, and head over to a pool hall. I mean, we could have a little fun. Knock back some colds ones, and maybe even holla' at some of the chicks.

Mr. Ass: Sounds good to me, you heard the man!

Driver: Yes sir!

The transmission ends, and a brief silence falls over the limo. Both Buff and Billy have something on their minds. However, it's quite surprising that the thing on Billy's mind is ass.

Mr. Ass: Marcus, I have mooned someone in ages. I haven't done it since I was in the World Wrestling Federation, and Lillian Garcia had that crush on me.

Buff Bagwell: Don't start here! I sure as hell don't want to be the one you start with.

Mr. Ass begins to laugh, and responds.

Mr. Ass: Nah, you have nothing to worry about. I'm gonna start a new at this bar we're going to.

Buff Bagwell: Man, it's true what they say about you. All you do is think about ass.

Mr. Ass: That's not true. You gotta remember I'm a wrestler too, Buff.

Buff Bagwell: And a damn good one.

Mr. Ass: The both of us. 

Buff Bagwell: Let's get down to business here, Billy. Thursday, you have a huge match. I dunno, Billy. Do you think you can beat Jarrett? Because when I said he had to get through you first, that was my way of saying, 

Mr. Ass: Don't insult my ability and confidence in myself. Of course I can beat him. Jarrett sucks when it comes to wrestling guys who are actually good. I mean, when it came to you versus him, who won? You. When it came to Scott Hall versus Jarrett, who won? Scott Hall. When it comes to Mr. Ass versus Jeff Jarrett, who will win? Mr. Ass. It's elementary, Marcus. He's 0 and 3 against top competition. He's not a proven superstar. He's not a superstar at all. This is why I'm going to come out on top with ease. I'm a superstar, not only in World Championship Wrestling, but in the entire Real Wrestling Alliance. Jarrett knows this, and that's why he's been so damn quiet. He's afraid. 

Buff Bagwell: Yeah, we haven't heard anything from Jarrett, lately. Where is he I wonder? Oh yeah-

Mr. Ass: Right. He's playing 'The Waiting Game'. He has no material to throw at me, so he's waiting for me to put out my material. Yeah, this is Mr. Entertainment. He's not even creative enough to come up with his own material. I tell you, anyone in their right minds could see this coming. No problem, however. Jarrett wants to "The Waiting Game", then that's his business. Jeff Jarrett is just an idiot. When he loses, he cries and makes excuses. He recycles segments. Buff, when the hell have you ever heard of someone who recycles segments? I can't get over that, and how absolutely pathetic it is. Now, he pulls this crap. It's typical of someone like Jarrett. He can't come and say much about me, unless he's sure, I can't say anything back. 

Buff Bagwell: Billy, you remember what you did to Booker T. Every little thing he said, you had something to say about it. My God, you tormented that guy with words, then again in the ring. No man would want to go through that. That's just... Just... Scary.

Mr. Ass: Perhaps you're right. Jarrett is afraid. He doesn't a war of words and wits with me, because, well, let's face it, when it comes to wits, he's unarmed, and words, he has very few.

Billy Gunn and Buff Bagwell share a laugh on the subject of Jarrett as the scene fades. We re-open in the bar. It's quite populated, but there's one pool table open, yet it's on the other side of the bar. Billy and Buff see it in the distance, and at this, they forget about all else.

Buff Bagwell: Race ya'!

Mr. Ass: You're on!

Bagwell and Gunn set off through the bar, full speed, weaving through the gaps between people and furniture. Sometimes, even knocking people to the floor. As they do this, everyone turns to the ruckus they're making. They finally reach the table, and the race results in a tie. They turn to the entire bar, as everyone in it glare at them, shaking their heads in disgust. 

Mr. Ass: Ah, go fuck yourselves. The whole 'lot of ya'!

Everyone turns away and goes back to what they were doing. Buff laughs, and Billy does the same.

Buff Bagwell: You ready to moon?

Mr. Ass: Nah. Not yet... You know, I nearly busted a gut in laughter when Jarrett said he was the best technician in sports today. I mean, think about it. With guys like Lance Storm, Bret Hart, and Chris Benoit still active in wrestling, there's no freakin' way he even contends with them. Jarrett has a couple of moves, but no of which are anything special. I'll give him this, all of the technical wrestlers are boring in the ring. They aren't the type that will cater to the crowd. Jarrett, is very boring, but he actually tries to cater to the crowd. That's very pathetic. So, he's boring when he tries not to be, and he's about as Technical as Paul Wight, who has three moves. A head butt, choke slam, and a-, well he has two moves. Who ever heard of a Front Russian Legsweep as a finisher? If he puts that on me, I assure you, I will kick out with nothing less than ease. Yet, he won't put that crap move, The Stroke on me. That's for damn sure. I doubt he'll even get a move off against me. Jarrett has all the stroke, huh? The only thing he's stroking is his dick, that masturbating bastard.

Bagwell falls to the ground in laughter. Everyone turns back to Billy and Buff, as Buff laughs hysterically, and Mr. Ass laughs as well. Billy's laughter quickly turns into a frown, when he says...

Mr. Ass: Ah, go lick a slapnut!

Buff rises to his feet, now confused when he says...

Buff Bagwell: What the hell is a "slap nut"?

Mr. Ass: That's Jarrett's attempt for humor. I bet when he can up with that on, he thought it was going to be a phrase that all of his fans would be using. He didn't think about the fact that he has no fans, and that goes for wherever he goes. Fans don't like losers. Why cheer for a bottom feeder like Jarrett? You just can't do it. Do you cheer for the Los Angeles Clippers? Hell, the fuck, no! So you don't cheer for Jeff Jarrett. That's just the way it works, Jarrett. When you don't bring it to the table, you can't expect people to actually like you. That's Jarrett's trouble. He wants the fans to cheer for him, but he doesn't hold up his side of the bargain for the fans. He doesn't win. He constantly loses. The fans what guys they can truly cheer for. Guys who won't let them down when he's going toe to toe with one of the biggest heels in the business. Those guys are us, Marcus. We are the guys the fans love, cheer for, and count on to save the day in World Championship Wrestling. For a while, Fuck the World, a faction that is freakin' hated by the wrestling public, has ruled on high in this promotion. We mark the change for that... Well, I guess The Establishment did, but we can do what the Establishment couldn't... Destroy Fuck the World!

Buff Bagwell: I hear what you're saying, but keep your head. We do have a big problem with Fuck the World, but your immediate target is Jarrett. I think it helps you get geared towards the match when you are completely and utterly dedicated to only one subject and that is the subject of your match. In your case, Jarrett.

Mr. Ass: I'm no fool, Buff. He's not a pushover, and I won't treat him as such. I main focus is Jeff Jarrett at this time. I mean, I'm thinking about our match, more than my ass.

Buff Bagwell: Whoa... That's all I needed to know.

Mr. Ass: Jeff Jarrett is the person who may not be full concentrated on this match. After all, he'll have some words for you, then Juventud, and Booker T. Finally, he'll come to me. I, on the other hand, have talked a little about Fuck the World and the Coalition in my past two segments. Everything else, is strictly Jarrett. Mostly about just how pathetic he is. Exposing him for the dickless prick that he is. So, while my main focus is him, he has other things on his mind. That can't be good for him. You have to be aware of me at all times. That's your only shot in beating me. All of your energy has to be directed towards beating me, and if it isn't, step away from the ring, and reschedule the match, because you're not going to win.

Buff Bagwell: And don't forget how he adds other topics to his interviews to lengthen them. He thinks he getting away with is, but it's obvious what he's doing. When it comes to the quality of his segments...

Mr. Ass: I know, you're looking at a guy who couldn't cut a quality segment if his life depended on it. Most of it is a disclaimer, but once you move past that, you have bitches like Madajahirafuckintheass, who runs her mouth about practically nothing. Then you have Jarrett talking about ten different wrestlers, a day in the park, and then he'll talk about the person who he should fear the most. He'll talk about past matches, and how he felt after winning those matches. That's the only way he can attempt to compete with guys like us, who can string segments together completely about the person we're facing. I guess that's one of the things that separates us from the wannabees. Jarrett is a wannabee Bagwell.

Buff Bagwell: He wants the stuff, but only Buff has the stuff. He looks up to me. That poor guy. It all comes down to jealousy. Jarrett is jealous that he doesn't have 'The Stuff' like me

Mr. Ass: It's sad, really. I mean, you would think that in this day and age, people would grow up. It sickens me when I see a person like Jarrett, who mimicks his opponents in segment presentation, and by practically stalking them. He just won't leave you alone, Marcus. It scares me really. Almost as much as the fact that we have not picked up a pool stick yet, or a beer!

Mr. Ass snaps his fingers, and four female waitresses surround him.

Buff Bagwell: Impressive!

All four are anxious to take Billy's order as he says...

Mr. Ass: Ladies, I-

Lady #1: Mr. Ass! The Ass Man! Oh my God, this is the greatest day of our natural born lives. I can't believe we're standing next to you. You're sooo hot!

Lady #2: We couldn't just come over here. We've been waiting for you to call for to take your order. We didn't want to seem forward or anything.

Mr. Ass: Wow. You beautiful ladies. I'm very flattered, but I'm tied down.

Lady #1: Oh, don't flatter yourself. God, they were right about you. You are conceded.

Mr. Ass: Hey, you came over here-

Buff Bagwell: Nah, let it go, Billy.

Mr. Ass: Look, we just want a couple of Budweisers, and get us some pool sticks over here.

Three of them, turn their backs, and leave Billy where he's standing. The young girl who didn't say anything stands right there, writing everything down. She then turns away from Billy, but Billy grabs her arm, and she turns around.

Mr. Ass: Hey, are all of you Billy Gunn fans?

Lady #3: Yeah, former Billy Gunn fans. I don't think the girls like you all that much anymore.

Mr. Ass: I see. Well, you love me or you hate me. Anyway, have you ever heard of Jeff Jarrett?

Lady #3: Yeah.

Mr. Ass: What's your name, darlin'?

Lady #3: My name is-

Buff Bagwell: It doesn't matter- Nevermind...

Mr. Ass: Anyway, what do you think of this guy?

Lady #3: Well, the girls think he's ugly. They only watch wrestling for the studs, and I do partially, but it's better to watch it for the actual wrestling, in my opinion.

Mr. Ass: Thanks, I guess. If you'd please. Take care of the beers and what have you.

Billy motions her away.

Mr. Ass: The truth of the matter is, Jeff Jarrett can't hold a candle to my ability.

Buff Bagwell: Let's not get too arrogant.

Mr. Ass: I'm not arrogant. I'm confident. When you're a good as I, confidence can be mistaken for arrogance. I will win at Nitro. It's that simple. Talent like mine doesn't come around often. I should be treated as such by World Championship Wrestling, and respected by pricks like Jeff Jarrett. Oh, what an idiot is he. Jarrett is pathetic. I mean, what more can I say. Does he honestly believe he can beat me? Ah, if so, he's a damn fool! With my Fame-Ass-Er, and best move in World Championship Wrestling, I can't be beat. It's complimented by moves like the Jackhammer. Jeff Jarrett could never pull off a Jackhammer because he's not strong enough. I may just beat him with that to rub it in. It's sad when you're limited to certain moves because of your body. Hell, I bet I could choke slam Jarrett. There's not limit to what I can do. I'm that damn good, and Jarrett must understand this, or the ass kicking that I'm about to give him is going to hurt tenfold! I'm not a man of mercy, so if I'm kicking your ass, just play dead. Then and only then will I pin your ass for the win. I said it would be quick. I lied, I'm going to make this the longest night ever for Jarrett. He will shudder at the mentioning of my fucking name! Why? Because I'm the Ass Man, and that's what I do. That's why I'm as good as I am. That's why I'm the prodigy, the top gun, and of course, the Ass Man. I'm Mr. Ass people, and to take a line for the book of Jarrett, which he took from the book of Shawn Michaels, Mr. Ass doesn't lay down for anyone. That's out of the question. I've never seen a person like Jarrett. A guy, who's quite arrogant, but has no right to be whatsoever. In wrestling, arrogance is welcome, even though I'm not arrogant. However, if you don't have the skill to back it up, the arrogance and all of the talking is worthless.

Jarrett talks a lot, but he never backs it up. He told Scott Hall how he'd kick his ass, and did he? No. He said he was going to kick your ass, but did he? No. You can't believe what this guy is saying. He'll tell you that he'll beat you, then turn around and lose. I bet he'll beat guys like Lash or Hugh Rection, but he can't touch the guy whom this company if built upon. Yes, I'm new, but upon arrival, I sketched my name into the foundation of the company along with Bagwell, The Undertaker, Storm, and a few others. Yes. That's the genius of the Ass Man. Attention I crave it, and I receive it, because I do all the right things, unlike you Jarrett. You love attention, but no one cares about you. You're a cancer on this promotion, because every other week, you start something backstage. In the real world, not the fantasy world that you retreat to after a loss, people get pissed by little games like that, and they don't forget it. Just ask Billy Kidman. You and him are cut from the same cloth. However, you, above Kidman, have no place here. Go up to the World Wrestling Federation after I kick your ass. Believe me, I can make it possible for you. I have friends up there, and I hear you do too. The Maple Leaf Blondes? Yeah, Buff told me a little about this. It seems that those guys have found success. One is even carrying two titles. Maybe if you went up there, you'd be worth something, unlike down here, where you're lost in the shuffle. You're nothing special, Jarrett. You're just another wrestler who thinks he's good enough for the World Title, but never gets there. You're new right now, so you don't understand that you'll never hold that title. Scott Hall holds two wins over you, but you want Bagwell. Bagwell would probably give you a non-title match, but you don't want Bagwell because he's made you look like a moron around here, and butchered your reputation. No, you don't want revenge. You just want another title. That's Jarrett! Good ole' Jarrett who wants to capture every damn title in sight! Why shoot for those type of goals, when you're not good enough to achieve them? If you can't get by me, Buff, or Hall, then why waste your time?

In short, our Thunder match up is mine to lose. Yeah, like that's going to happen. I'm going to be on you like white on rice, slamming you to the mat, and smacking your face into chairs. Again, buddy. I own you, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it. Like you own a pet. I own you. Like you own a car. I own you, and you're already paid for. You have no idea just how good I am. I could tell you, but you'd have to experience it. That's the only way you could possibly no how good I am. You see how much I talk... Let's put it this way, Jarrett. The way I talk about myself is an understatement on my part. Yeah, that's right. I think you're beginning to understand. I'm not kidding. I'm being perfectly honest with you. You have no chance of winning. I'm sorry, but you don't. You may honestly think you do, but you'll lose your Hardcore Title and your shot at Buff Bagwell and his United States Championship. That title is staying with him. He's aligned himself with the right people, and a belt like that isn't going to weasel away from us. You won't get a shot at that belt for another month or two! It's over, and it'll all end with the Fame-Ass-Er. That's when and where you'll be laid to rest. Mr. Ass, the top in his class, and I don't mean academics. I mean wrestling, and the gift of making your opponent cry and doubt himself beyond belief before a match. Now, I'm getting tired of this. I have done all of this without a word out of you. Save the applause. Jeff, if you're not down with the Coalition, and the way we do our thing, I've got two words for ya...

Suck It!

Oh, and if it doesn't here there... If you don't think I'm going to kick your ass on Thunder, go to hell. But here it is, the three words that wrestling fans are waiting for... If you're not down with Mr. Ass being the top gun in World Champion Wrestling...

Kiss My Ass!

Buff Bagwell: Jarrett doesn't brush his teeth on a regular basis, so shove a tic-tac in his mouth after you beat him. That guy doesn't believe in hygiene. He also smells like hot shit. Wow, I guess we found a way to tie this segment into the title of it... Awesome. Hey, The Taker has just walked through the door. Moon him!

Billy laughs, then turns to The Undertaker, with his back to him. Taker spots the duo from across the room, and Buff Bagwall guides The Undertaker's eye to Billy's raw ass by pointing to it. Everyone in the bar begin to clap at well executed moon, well, all except The Undertaker who runs after Bagwell and Billy. He's chasing them around the pool tables and what not...

Mr. Ass: It was just a joke!

Bagwell and Billy are known for their practically jokes, but The Undertaker never really gets them. Go figure...

Out of Character: This is by far, probably my worst work since arriving. I apologize, but I have absolutely no material thanks to the shady tactics of Jeff Jarrett.