The scene opens with a
crystal clear sky, shinning down on a forest with a abundance of trees, rives
flowing through, and streams. The exact location of this forest is unknown at
the present time, but you can rest assured. Somewhere in the depths of this
seemingly endless forest, weíll find Billy Gunn. Suddenly, a gunshot can be
heard, and the scene switches to the source of this gunshot. Here, in a ditch,
complete with binoculars, a rifle, camouflage attire, black face paint beneath
the eyes, and a wartime hard hat, we find Nick Notle. Nick Notle has starred in
the movie ď48 HoursĒ, ďAnother 48 HoursĒ, ďBlue ChipsĒ and many
flicks. Heís seen here squatting with just his head and shoulders sticking out
of the ditch. He has an intimidating scowl over his face as his seems to be
waiting to sight of the victim of his shot. His picks up his binoculars, and
takes a look in the distance. Through the binoculars, he sees another person far
in the distance, looking through their binoculars directly in his direction.
Nick Notle quickly ducks down in the ditch, in great excitement but at the same
time, anger. He tosses his binoculars between his legs, and sits without a word.
Much to the surprise of those watching, the camera zooms out and we find Billy
Gunn seated next to Nick Notle, wearing a hat with leaves and other pieces of
nature seemingly glued to the top, a camouflage attire, much like Nickís, also
black shinning boots and heís wearing sunglasses with light green lenses.
Heís presently shaking a canteen, trying to get a drop of water out, but
unfortunately, there is none left. He then tosses the canteen in the distance,
and looks quite pissed.
Nick, why the heck are we here? I thought we were goiní to your country club
for this party, but instead youíve brought me, and everyone else out here,
with guns! Man, you know these Hollywoods guys are nuts.
Nuts? Nuts?! You havenít seen nuts yet, Billy Boy.
Hey, the name is Billy Gunn, Nick, Billy Gunn. But, uh, out of curiosity, why
was I invited?
Well, I see you on television, and I must say, I like your style. You have
spunk, Gunn. You really have spunk.
Nick reaches over and
places Billy in a headlock, knocking his hat off, and rubs his fist viciously in
Billyís head. Billy pushes him off, and pulls out a mirror to tend to his
Besides, youíre a tough guy. I figured youíd feel right at home out here.
This is where the big boys play. Out in the wild, Billy. Can you smell that?
Yes, gun powder. The smell of the rotting flesh of those damned hunted animals
who have been shot in their tracks. Ah, this is home.
Okay, why is Chris Rock here?
The camera zooms out once
again, and we find that Chris Rock has been seated by Billy Gunn. Chris Rock, a
critically acclaimed comedian has ventured into the big screen, and from it came
ďCB4Ē, ďBoomerangĒ, ďLethal Weapon 4Ē, and many more. He too is
wearing camouflage gear, with a wartime hard hat, and a canteen around his neck.
By the way, all camouflage gear is exactly like those used in the Army. The
Army, be all that you can be. Sorry about that. We have received funding from,
well, nevermind. Chris Rock is seated here curled up, and almost seems to be
Well, Chris Rock always
talks about how rough Compton is, or other American areas that are quite rough
due to the a large population of black people. Hell, I come for areas that are
rough thanks to a large population of white people. I feel for the guy. I grew
up out of that, a tough, strong man. I figured he did the same. But much to my
surprise, he ainít nothing more than the yellow belly, skinny little runt. You
know, I outta shoot the fool!
Rock: Hey, hey, hey,
cracker! If someoneís gonna have a cap busted in theyíre ass, itís gonna
be you! You brought us out here, in the middle of nowhere, where all I hear is
gunshots, and Iím surrounded by white people and Nick Nolte smells like
bologna and ass! I tell you, this is not my idea of a party! Strippers, I can
handle. People getting drunk at a party, I can handle. People gettingí knocked
up at a party, I can handle, but this, I canít handle. If I donít shoot you,
one of the people you invited will!
Donít you ever ask to come to my party again, Rock!
Rock: I never asked you
if I could come to begin with. I heard Puff Daddy was gonna be here, so I said,
ďHell, I could deal with that.Ē Then I get here, and where the hell is Puff
Alright, shut up! Just shut up! Now tell me, Nolte, not that Iím complaining,
because this is probably the only worthwhile reason to be here, but why is
Rebecca Romijn here?
The camera zooms out back
again, and we lay eyes on one of the finest women in the world, Rebecca Romijn,
Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Model. Billy looks past the pouting Chris Rock to
lay eyes on Rebecca, who returns the favor, and lays eyes on him. Yet, I can see
why Billy Gunn is practically drooling. Rebecca is sitting there in a camouflage
sports bra, and tight camouflage shorts. She smiles at Billy Gunn, who attempts
to say something, but is quickly turned around by Nick, who saysÖ
Well, I donít think I have to give you a long answer. I mean, look at her.
Sheís Rebecca Romijn for crying out loud!
Alright, I got it. Iím going to talk to her. Chris, move.
I wouldnít do that if I were you.
Billy ignores Nickís
warning, as Chris Rock scoots over to Billyís original seat, as he stands, but
and begins to walk over to Rebecca. However, his mission is taken to an abrupt
stop by a gun shot, and a his hat flying behind him almost simultaneously.
Billy quickly takes a
seat, but then proceeds to lay down. He covers his head, and begins to yell at
Who the hell is shooting at us, Nick?!
Ah, I hate to say I told you so, but I told you so.
Just answer the question!
That would be Leslie Neilson. Every year we have this contest, and I have lost
at my own game for the past three, but I think I have put together a good enough
team, so I can take the victory this year. Here, take this.
Nick passes binoculars to
Billy Gunn, and tells him to peer his head over the ditch, very carefully. He
does, and heís surprised at the sight he sees.
Oh my God! They have Pamela Anderson Lee over there!
No, you fool. Look behind them. You see that flag. We have to get that flag
before they get ours.
Ah, I see. What?!
Billy calms down a bit,
and then takes a seat by Nick once again.
Whereís our flag?
Romijn: Weíre in
between our enemy and the flag. Our flag is right over there.
Instead of even glances
over in the direction see stated, he looks over to Rebecca, quite disappointed.
Oh címon, donít tell me youíre in this too?
Romijn: I just donít
like to lose, Ass Boy.
Okay, Nick, what is Tom Green and the linebacker squad of the New Orleans Saints
The camera backs away to
put the entire crew of people named thus far. Tom Green is seated in the middle
of the eight man squad of linebackers who are in training camp gear, not
shoulder pads and the whole nine. Heís sitting there grunting and struggling,
as if heís trying to- Yes, he was trying to pass gas. The linebackers back
away and clap, then another steps into the middle and follows suit. Billy shakes
his head, and turns to Nick.
New Orleans? Man, couldnít you have gotten the Tennessee Titan Linebackers?
I figure, a person like Tom Green is expendable. The New Orleans Saint
Linebacker crew is quite large. We need them as a front line. After all, Leslie
has the services of the Tampa Bay Buccaneer Linebacker Squad as their frontline.
Now, Billy, we need someone guard the flag. Are you up to it?
UhÖ Yeah, anything to keep me away from the ďbattlefieldĒ Nick, oh, I mean
any way I can help.
Rock: No, Iíll do it!
Everyone, weíll leave Billy here. Letís move out.
The entire recruited squad
of Nick Nolte moves low through the ditch, except Chris Rock, who is eventually
dragged by one of the Linebackers. All are in camouflage accept the football
players and Tom Green, who, I forget to tell you, is wearing his boxersÖ
Thatís it. Billy climbs out of the ditch, and runs to the flag in the
distance. Once he reaches it, he takes a seat on the tire that it is cemented
in. He leans on the pole of the flag, and turns to the cameraÖ
To those that I may on the verge of hitting superstardom, if youíre invited to
a Nick Nolte Party, donít go, unless youíre out of your mind. Well, now that
I think it over, thereís no one in the World Wrestling Federation that will
achieve the success that I have. When I think about it, Iím popular as hell,
and Iím not carrying a title. Whoa. You donít know the mixed feeling Iím
having right now. Sure, Iím excited that Iím extremely popular. Yet, I
donít have a title. That must change, and change quickly. European? Itís not
a title in my opinion! I want the only title that matters. That title is none
other than the World Championship Title. Ooo, I canít wait to get my hands on
it, and I will. You know, now that I think about it, in my surging popularity,
it seems that Stephanie McMahon and Shawn Michaels are the only people who
donít notice me. Either that, they donít care. I choose the latter, because
there is no way you can miss this. It doesnít matter how long the World
Wrestling Federation Executives keep me from it, I will capture the title one
way or another. Either Iím going to raise some hell, and kick the hell out of
Tommy Dreamer a few times a card until he gets the message, or Iím going to
have to win the King of the Ring. Ah, the King of the Ring. This is the
tournament in which I will be crowned, King Ass. Beautiful, to say the least.
Hold on, now. There are other wrestlers in the tournament, even though you
wouldnít think so. After all, Iím headlining King of the Ring. Iím going
to have about four matches. It only makes sense that the WWF is going to work me
as hard has they possibly can to get the worth out of me and to boost the ticket
sales. But again, other wrestlers are in this thing, so allow me to give a quick
run down on each oneÖ
Simply overrated. Two titles? Yes, I am aware of The Rockís achievements, but
as his short stint as champion will end at King of the Ring after either The Big
Show or Kane destroys him, his progression in the tournament will also end. By
me? Iím not sure. I havenít a clue how the brackets are laid out at the
time. However, I do know that if we do meet in the ring, his Peopleís Elbow or
Rock Bottom maneuvers will not be as effective as the Fame-Ass-Er or my
specialty Jackhammer. The Rock has been his a growing feud against the Darkness,
or whatever they call themselves. I have thought about helping him many times,
however, I just donít like The Rock. I found it rather entertaining. The Rock
being shut up by a stable I could crush with the palm of my hand, and a swift
kick to the ass of Kane. The difference between The Rock and I is I had the
ability to defend myself. While The Rock was struggling to stay healthy against
The Darkness, I was making Degeneration X bow down to the master, Billy Gunn.
HmmÖ Both stables suck. Itís that simple, however, one man reigns triumphant
over his opposition while another gets his ass sacrificed. I think all of this
speaks for itself people. Do you want a King like this? A King who canít
defend himself? No, King Rock? Get real. This man could never bare the name
ďKingĒ. Iím sorry, but if he ever crosses me, Iíll have to dismiss him
for the tournament. For the good of the tournament of course. I will filter the
tournament, and clean out those who donít belong, which is everyone, but
myself. Iím a proven warrior, people. The Rock, is not.
Champion? Hardcore Champion? These are chump titles. As The Rock is, a chump.
Heís a chump that will be exposed at King of the Ring as the loser he really
and truly is. Iím sure heís lost his fan base, to me for one reason. And
another reason, no one wants to cheer on a loser. The Rock is not one of your
most accomplished wrestlers. An elbow drop for a finisher? What gets me is that
this elbow drop is not even from the top rope, so I ask you, what kind of damage
is this really doing? And why do the victims of this move just lay there. Iím
sure you can move a little while that idiot is dancing around the ring, and
jumping from rope to rope. I could. Yes, I bet you I could! The Rock has a ten
move, move list. At the top of this list we have The Peopleís Elbow. I have
already expressed my feelings on this move. Rock Bottom? Pretty good move, but
not good enough to keep me down. Spine buster? What the hell? Get real, people!
DDT? Everyone in the WWF and their mothers can carry out that move. Clothesline?
Iíll reverse it, kick him in the gut, and you know the rest. Well, I could
have sworn he had ten moves. I guess I doubled it, huh? Figures. He has five
moves. Five legitimate moves. I canít tell you how hilarious this is. This is
a man fit for a King? I beg to differ. He has more catch phrases than he has
moves. Now that I have stumbled on the subject of his catch phrases, have you
ever seen a man say the same thing over and over again so many times? Sometimes
I feel like Iím watching a walking, talkiní, broken record. He says so many
things over and over again, I swear I have flashes of dťjŗ vu. Rocky, work on
that, please. Iím getting tired of the same oleí story everytime I look up.
By the way, where has Rocky been as of late? Oh well, it seems wrestlers around
here can come as they see fit. Wait, The Rock isn't in King of the Ring is he?
He hasn't even resigned with the WWF. Hmm... Well, I enjoyed this nonetheless.
Suddenly, Billy hereís a
sound, very close to him. He jumps to his feet, and then thinks to himself,
ďWhy the hell donít I have a gun? Wait, it just occurred to me, these guys
are playing with guns. Damn, someone is going to try and kill me. Kill me? I
canít die! Iím too good to die!Ē Billy runs behind a tree, near the flag.
When he does, Woody Harelson emerges from the bunch of trees and looks around to
see if the coast is clear. Heís wearing a bandanna, with an eye patch, and
blue, dark blue, white, and black camouflage attire. He sneaks to the flag, and
attempts to take it out of the tire. Billy Gunn sees that he will not be able to
take the flag because Nick cheated, but more importantly, he sees that Woody is
without a gun. Billy Gunn then leaps from where he stands, and falls on Woody
from behind. He then punches Woody, knocking him cold. He takes some tape, and
tapes Woody up. He then rolls him into the ditch. After all this, he returns to
his place on next to the flag.
Damn, that was awesome. Maybe Nick is really onto something with this game. I
hope Pamela tries her luck with the flag. I canít wait to pin herÖ knock her
ass out and toss her into the ditch. Anyway, what was I sayiní. Oh yes. I
think I was just about to make comments on The Road Dogg Jesse James, the Hooked
On Phonics Spokesperson! Ah, the good oleí Road Dogg Jesse James. The man that
admires me in every way. Everytime I see his name in this tournament, I think to
myself, the chances of me winning this are unfairly in my favor. Who put him in
this tournament? This guy has worse English than Essa Rios, and Essa Rios
isnít even United States native. Now that Jesse doesnít have a teleprompter
to read his lines from during an interview, you can barely understand what the
hell heís saying. Iím sure you all remember a while ago where I dedicated
half my segment to pointing out how terrible he speaks English. Material. Ha!
That one gets me everytime. Anyway, whatís the deal with Jesse lately, anyway?
I am referring to his recent new Degeneration X pleas. Get this, at this time,
he is going to get rid of X-Pac. X-Pac was the man who restarted the group. How
the hell can you throw the man out of his own group? I simply canít understand
the logic behind this. Really, Iím an understanding person, but this just
isnít making sense to me. You see the part that truly gets me is X-Pac isnít
even in the federation anymore. When X-Pac quit, he was already out of
Degeneration X. Throwiní him out? Nah, this is just The Road Dogg tryiní to
be a little more important than he truly is. Itís as simple as that.
To get to
the gist of it all, Jesse sucks. This guy makes no sense half the time, and when
he does make sense, itís simply bullshit. Heís just like one of those
Mexican wrestlers with heel gimmicks. Jesse doesnít have a wrestling bone in
his body, and his mouth has gotten him this far. However, now that the WWF has
taken away his cue cards during segments, he canít even talk straight. Since
he doesnít have it on the mic, his in-ring ability will be exposed for what it
really is, worse than a Carrot Top movie. I know that was harsh, but it had to
be said. Jesse has nothing on me, and he even backed out of our little feud. He
knows whoís his master and he knows who to bow to. You see the thing is,
Degeneration X has one man who ranks among the top, whom they will never defeat,
and that man is Billy Gunn. Until the day they conquer me, write them off as
just a stable whoíll last for a couple of weeks and then become another
defunct Degeneration X stable. Tell me, how many times are we going to see this
stable rebuilt and revamped? Iím getting freakiní tired of it! Itís gotta
stop, for the sake of the fans. And someone has to throw The Road Dogg back into
elementary school. Iím being serious here. Watching him makes the viewer
dumber. This a King? He has conquered basic English yet!
Where do I begin. Ah, yes, the great luck of Kurt Angle. Heís on his knees as
we speaking thanking God that he didnít have to step foot in that ring with
me. Why? He would have lost his title in less than a minute after a Jackhammer,
followed by on hell of a Fame-Ass-Er. Thatís why! So whereís my title shot,
Kurt Angle? Will you award me another one? Of course not. Youíre not ready to
lose your title. Youíll pick and choose wrestlers that you know you can beat
to defend your title. Thatís a good plan for a coward. Yet, it wonít last
forever, because sooner of later, youíll run into someone that can kick your
ass from turnbuckle to turnbuckle, like myself. Itís true, itís true. So,
since youíre the type that likes to duck competition, what does that do for
your chances in King of the Ring? Itís slims them down considerably. You
canít duck competition there. The finalists all have what it takes to own your
ass in that ring. Straighten up and fly right, little American Hero. I donít
think June 25th is going to be your day, especially sometime in the
evening when I have my foot broken off in your ass. I donít think lightening
will strike twice in one place. Nah, King of the Ring wonít be canceled, so
stop praying for it. You could always miss your plan and not participate. Yeah,
youíll be fined by the World Wrestling Federation, but what the hell? Youíll
save yourself from a beating by myself, possibly The Rock, or maybe even The
Road Dogg. Okay, not the Road Dogg, but Iím sure you get the point that Iím
trying to get across. Well, maybe you donít. After all, Iím talking to a guy
whoís as dumb as a post. I would break it down for you, but maybe you should
enlist in elementary school like The Road Dogg. It would be a smart move on both
is under the assumption that I look like a girl. I mean, címon people. Are
there any others who feel the same way I do about this topic? Someone has a
problem, and itís not Billy Gunn. Now, I am an attractive guy. Iím probably
the best looking guy in the wrestling world. Yes, I do enjoy every minute of it.
Do you know what you can get with a face like this and an ass to boot? Uh, no
pun there. Ah, Iím getting way off topic. Yes, the topic is quite a turn on
for the ladies, but I worry that it may be a turn on for guys like Kurt Angle.
Billy Gunn is here to kick the asses of men, and to ďtapĒ the asses of
women. There will be no ďifsĒ, ďandsĒ, or ďbutsĒ about that, I
assure you. So how can I address a guy like this? Think about it. Itís obvious
he has a thing for me. Scary? You bet your ass! Iím a wrestler, and wrestling
requires a lot of contact between a guy and his opponent. While I feel the
contact is imperative to kick the ass of that opponent, Kurt Angle, the
ďSwitch HitterĒ, may feel that the contact is imperative so he can get a
rush without coming out of the closet, if you know what I mean. The wrestling in
which he began his career requires much more contact than the wrestling that
Iím used to. No wonder he won a gold medal in it. He probably sexually
harassed the guys he was wrestling against. You know what, damn it. Iím just
going to pummel Angle into submission. I refuse to get fondled by this queer. If
he so much as makes another pass at me, Iíll kill Ďem. Figuratively
speaking, of course. Now, the three ĎIsí are really and truly worth
absolutely jack! You know, I made a few comments about those three ĎIsí
earlier. Lets roll that clip, shall we. Oh yeah, Iím out in the middle of
nowhere. Iím stepping out of faith here.
Billy Gunn lifts the flag
cemented into the tired, and finds a tape player underneath. He moves the flag
out of the way, and takes the tape player. He then slides a tape into it, the he
removed from his pocket, and plays it.
What? Itís television!
Mr. Ass: Why
yes, yes I do. Although I'm not sure Kurt Angle does. You see, he often lies.
This would mean that he lacks Integrity. If he thinks he can beat me, then he
definitely lacks intelligence. Now, intensity? I don't know. I've never wrestled
the guy, but there's no doubt that his does not compare to mine. Power, passion,
and strength? I possess all of this and more. Far more. As he would say,
"It's true, it's true". What gets me about Kurt is that because he won
gold medals, he actually believes he belongs in the WWF. Those gold medals don't
mean a damn thing in this federation. They really don't, and that short, chunky
guy is going to have a rude awakening when I cut him down to size. By the way,
haven't we been in this elevator for a while?
Now, Mr. Angle never replied to this little message, so I am left to conclude
that he feels the same way. Kurt Angle needs his career ended, and I may just be
the person to do it. Believe that. Hell, I ran the British Bulldog out of the
federation. I am capable of an encore. Now, I come to the one they call Chris
Jericho. Chris Jericho needs a reality check. Fellow wrestlers shouldnít
respect me, because I canít respect them. I canít respect people who are
inferior to me, but fail to see it, or meet reality. Jericho, despite the fact
that he respects me, heís still one of those people. One of those losers who
sit back and actually believe they have a chance to defeat me. Wake up call!
This is a task that cannot be done, especially by some midget like Chris
Jericho. The future? No, I am. The present? No, I am. The past? Ha! Jericho can
claim to be the future of this federation as he wishes, but he hasnít shown
any signs of being worth more than the paper his birth certificate was printed
on. I donít know. Maybe itís just me. I donít see whatís so great about
Christopher Jericho. The former ĎLionheartí, now Y2J. So, as far as Iím
concerned, the legends before me have passed a torch along, and Iím the man
the choose to carry it through the millennium. You know, I noticed something. We
are not into the new millennium yet. No, my friends. There never was a year
zero. Therefore, we pass into the new millennium in 2001. Thatís just a
theory, and it has nothing to do with this.
Where was I before I ventured into those irrelevant topics? Oh yeah. You see Jericho, this future is Billy Gunn, and only Billy Gunn. He will not take anyone with him in a quest to achieve the greatness in which he deserves, especially, Chris Jericho. King Jericho? No, think again. I donít think the Jericholics will be behind you at King of the Ring. Only alcoholics could ever think you deserve to be King. Again, Jericho. Donít respect me, unless that respect is a branch of fear. If thatís the case, by all means, please do respect me, but recognize your respect as what it truly is, fear. But if your respect, is just that, respect. Donít bother. I am not to be respected. I am to be admired and feared. Remember this JerichoÖ Now, I saved the worst for last. This is the man who I will take on in the very first match in the quarter-finals. Edge. Ha! Yes, I said Edge. Now this is a push over if I ever seen one. This is not a question of whether I win or lose, but how long it will take me to win. Anyone want to place any bets? I bet I can take Edge out with a Fame-Ass-Er in two minutes or less. Any takers? Get back to me. I doubt there will be though. Everyone in the business knows I capable of winning a match of little magnitude as this. Not one man in King of the Ring has what it takes to oppose me. Not on man has what it takes to stop me. Edge? Please. Spears and Spirals may work in the tag team world, but Edge and his little brother, Toto, have ventured into the land of the giants. This is where the true competitors test there worth. The tag team division is where two guys can lean on each other for a win. You're all alone in a singles match, Edge. Some people can't take it. They have their friends or family come to the ring to give them an assist. Losers. Are you a loser, Edge? Well, yeah, but are you that kind of loser? Should I be expecting your brother to lend a hand in your match against me? If so, rethink this. If he does decide to make a presence at ringside, he will feel exactly what you're going to feel after you're looking at the rafters for a minimum of three seconds.
So Edge, are you going to try and
make a name for yourself, at King of the Ring? Do you believe you have what it
takes to sneak by me, and maybe win the King of the Ring? Do you honestly
believe the fans of the wrestling world want to see you as their undisputed
king? If so, then you are a fucking idiot! Don't ever think you have a chance to
win in a match with me. Don't ever believe you're more than you are, because
thinking like that will surely get your ass hurt. So, pose all you want. Jump
around off turnbuckles, and run the security rails as much as you see fit.
Understand, however, everytime you attempt these daredevil risks, your
punishment will feel worse and worse in the end. Allow me to explain. If you
inflict damage on yourself, plus take the damage that I'm going to give you,
you're in for a long night. Now, if you refrain from those stupid daredevil
moves, that you'll never land on me anyway, when I land that Fame-Ass-Er on you
in the end, it won't feel as bad. Understand that it will feel bad, but not that
bad. Understand? Whatever. Damn, I'm really getting bored. But anytime you're on
the subject of Edge, you'll have that happen to you many times. Many times.
Posing? Nice gimmick, I guess. Well, it's better than anything Kane can come up
with. Kane. Ah, he and his Ministry sucks...
Billy Gunn becomes a
little upset as he hears the cheering and laughter that the others are having.
He then rises to his feet, and rips off his shirt. He then shakes his head and
smiles. Billy begins to move forward and this quickly turns into a sprint as the
enemy has spotted him. He hears the laughter ahead where the enemy base I
located. He presses on despite this. He begins to hear gunfire and he
immediately knows that heís being shot at. He reaches the ditch of the enemy,
plants, and leaps over it. The enemy team, lead by Leslie Neilson, follows in
pursuit of Billy Gunn. Ahead, Billy Gunn sees his team all tied up, and except
Chris Rock whoís kicking the hell out of Nick Nolte, whoís tied and and
cussing him out. Billy Gunn reaches Chris Rock and lays him out with a right
hand. He then unties Rebecca Romijn, and they kiss passionately. All the while,
Billyís thinking ďWhat the hell?Ē She then instructs him to go after the
flag, and he does. Rebecca unties her fellow teammates who keep Leslie
Neilsonís team busy. Billy reaches the flag, and yanks it out of the ground.
Pamela Anderson suddenly appears from out of the trees, and she quickly pinned
by Billy Gunn. He then knocks her out with a left cross. He places her over his
shoulder, and runs from whence he came. Through the tussling teams, and before
crossing the ditch, he rolls Pamela into it. He then proceeds with the flag,
finally reaching his base, and leaps in celebration. His celebrating comes to an
end when the entire crew invited to the party stands before him, with Nick
Nolte, Woody Harleson, and Pamela Anderson Lee standing in front.
Mr. Ass: UhÖ
Nick, we won! Whatís wrong?
Youíre whatís wrong. Punching, Billy? Punching? We had another loose cannon
like you last year. Yeah, Charlie Sheen. That assholeÖ Anyway, you had no
right. This was just a fun little game of capture the flag. These guns?
Theyíre loaded with paint balls. Where are you? Youíre in my yard. This is
about ten acres of land, which half is dedicated to forest life. Iím truly
ashamed. I canít imagine someone actually punching Woody Harrelson like you
did. This isnít anything physical. We donít practice that kind of preschool
violence. Shame on you!
Anderson: What about me,
itís a shame that he would lay a finger on me, right?
Yeah, yeah, whatever.
Harrelson: Arenít you
that chick for VIP?
Nevermind, I can imagine you punching her.
The linebackers from the
Buccaneers and the Saints shake their heads in disagreement. After all, Pamela
may be a bad actor, but she is Pamela Anderson. Billy backs up, expecting the
worse, as the celebrities close in on him.
Then where does the smell of rotting animal flesh come in? Oh, and gun powder.
That was to set the stage for war. I thought you knew the rules. Woody and
Pamela are seriously hurt. Chris Rock was just was clueless as you, but I
couldnít tell him how foolish he was because that would break the atmosphere
of the game.
Why did Rebecca kiss me?
That has nothing to do with it!
I know, I just wanted to see if it was my ass or my looks. Thatís all.
Probably, a mixture of both.
You donít learn do you. Youíre just some selfishÖ idioticÖ dumb assÖ
Mr. Ass: Yeah, and you're a big grapefruit head, jack ass, who couldn't put out a good movie if his mother's life depended on it!
Leslie Neilson: Is he talking about me?
Woody Harrelson: Nah, I think he was talkin' about Nick.
Nick Nolte: What?
Woody Harrelson: Well, that movie with Ice T, uh, sucked, Mr. Nolte.
Nick Nolte: Money Train wasn't exactly a masterpiece of film.
Leslie Neilson: Wrongfully Accused was the wrong choice, Leslie.
Everyone looks at Leslie in
confusion, as he smiles, and nods.
Anyway, Iíll tell you what Iím going to do, Gunn! Iíll tell you what
weíre going to do, weíre going to kick your ass!
Hey, look over there, Tom Green is humping a deer!
The entire crew turns to
actually see Tom Green humping a moose. We never aired his comments during this
segment for a very good reason. Billy Gunn takes off as fast as possible, as the
crew eventually stops watching Tom Green, and realize Billy is getting away. The
scene pauses with Billy jumping into the air with a huge smile, and the
celebrities far behind in the distance. The scene then fades, and rolls the
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.
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 youÖ
Kiss Our Asses!