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| Big-Ups TO ALL MY HATERRZZ!!! | |
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| Topic Started: Dec 17 2009, 10:27 PM (94 Views) | |
| The Zodiac Thrilla | Dec 17 2009, 10:27 PM Post #1 |
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The scene opens with an extreme close up shot on a man’s face, with a red hood covering most of it. The camera lens is focused on a lit marijuana cigarette, with the rest of the picture out of focus, so you can’t quite make out this man’s face. This man then proceeds to take a drag off his blunt and then blow a cloud of smoke into the camera lens. He then takes the blunt out of view as the camera lens focuses on the man’s face and we see that this is actually, The Zodiac Thrilla. Bearing a hard, thug like expression on his face, Zodiac proceeds to speak. Zodiac- “Aye, yo…Whiteout….tell deez people who I’m is.” The camera then pans over to the large, intimidating, body guard, Whiteout. Whiteout- “Yeeeuh…this ya boy, the one and only. The rubber-band-man, the man so tough we call ‘em Teflon. Ya first EVA!....C Z Dubb..World Heavyweight Champion….ladies and gentlemen….Mista RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT…DA ZODIAC THRILLA!” Zodiac- “Dass-right…Iss-ya boy, Zodiac. We out herr, chillin my brand new…BLACK…2010 Cadillac Escalade…ROLLIN’ ON DUBS…20 inch rims..YA HEARD MAH??!!” Whiteout- “Dey aint 20’s but dey nice tho.” Zodiac- “DEY ARE 20’S MAN…WHACHU TAWLKIN BOUT?....naw…dey 15’s…BUT I KEEP ‘EM CLEAN THO….anyway, we bout to get-up-bout this betty-magnet an do what we do.” The camera zooms all the way out to see both men getting out of Zodiac’s brand new ride as they stand up in front of the camera, right outside of a building. Zodiac- “Now…we bout-sta go in herr in dis herr ‘scrip club’ where dem ‘scrippers’ be at. We gon’ get us some lap dances, mota-boated and what not…and you know we got-sta make it rain.” Whiteout- “ha. ha. Noah betta be makin anotha Ark .. ya heard meh? I’M ON A BOAT!” Zodiac- “Yee-uh, dem white boys is crazy with them rap videos on S-N-L….JIZZ IN MAH PANTS, SON! …but anyway, I gotsa match on Overdrive, this week, fatal four way ‘n what not. So, im ressta kick some ass…’specially considerin I get lay deez boots on that punk-ass Kimo Newton…but I’mma get to yo punk-bitch-ass in a few minutes.” Zodiac takes another hit off his blunt before continuing. Zodiac- “Firs-off, I wanna start out by addressin’ the new blood: Johnny Kerosene, ya feel me? I aint really seen you around, aint really seen you but in one match. You didn’t win but you didn’t lose either and I kinda like the way you laid Hustle out there to get pined, I feel ya on that one, homie. But don’t get it twisted, I’m still plannin on whippin ya white-ass, if you get in mah way. You got some skills in the ring, I aint denyin that but you aint no black superman, like me…you aint the Zod’ ..son! I’mma introduce you to the one and only, ya feel me? I’mma show you why I am the firs-eva ….C Z Dubb…WORL’ HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMP! Now, I don’t know how yall do things in England…but dey aint gon’ be no stoppin the match fo’ tea time, ya heard me? Maybe some gin and juice…but I’m juss-sayin … I wannna get mah hands on Kimo, fo’ makin me lose to that little bitch….Caleb Walka. So, I suggest you stay out mah way…you can go afta Sean Hustle, fo’ all I ceh…like I say….long as you stay out mah way, homie….we coo.” Whiteout- “Ha. Dat foo know betta then to cross yo path, BIG Z!..Aye..when we gon’ go up in here and get some lap dances, son?!” Zodiac takes yet another hit off his blunt before addressing the question at hand. Zodiac- “I AINT DONE YET, FOO…..KNEEL BEFO’ ZOD, SON!” Whiteout proceeds to kneel down on his knees before Zodiac interupts. Zodiac- “…..man…GET UP, FOO!…I’z juss playin, negga.” Whiteout gets back up to his feet while laughing. Whiteout- “Heh…you crazy, Big Z.” Zodiac- “Sean Hustle….the man from the big apple…’NEW YAHK’…I’mma tell you the same thing I told Johnny K….I…want Kimo Newton….thas-meh numba one priority….dont get in mah way. You and Johnny can beat the white out of eachotha fo’ all I ceh.” Whiteout looks at Zodiac with a weird and uneasy look on his face. Whiteout- “Aye, Big Z .. that sounded kinda gay, dude.” Zodiac: “Man…you know what I mean….hellz wrong wit-chu?! Anyway, my point is…deyz gon’ be some black-on-black crime…so you whiteboyz juss-stay out the way. Hustle, I rememba seein you round ‘The Dubb’ about a year ago and I aint neva had a problem with you. I was actually kinda impressed, to be honest. Altho we neva crossed paths….but you seem ta like ta run ya mouth off about how I might not be stickin aroun here for long. Well I gots news fa ya, homeboy….Im here, fo-eva, negga! I aint leavin fa shit….you gon’ have-ta kill me, ya heard me? Matter fact, I’mma get mah world title back, soon as I get finished taken ceh, of some bustas….like Kime Newton, Caleb Walka and then, eventually….plow-man…Jesse Montana…..speaking of which. Montana…when I see you … deyz gon’ be some descrepancyz…ya feel me? But I aint gon’ take the easy, punk way out like you did. You had a problem wit me and you decided to take me out with a GAT-DAMN VEHICLE! ….PUSSY! I’mma do this the hard way, homeboy….I’mma whoop yo ass..,.FACE-TA-FACE….B’LEE DAT!...THE ZODIAC WAY!...The sign a-the Zodiac is upon ya, Montana and it’s energy is .. f**kIN’ GANGSTA!!....YA HEARD ME?!” Whiteout- “How you gon’ handle that chump, Montana…Big Z?” Zodiac- “I don’t know yet….I gotsta be patient, nah’mean? Gotsta brianstorm n’ shit. This gotsta be real good, ya feel me? Somethin maniacal n shit. That muh-f**ka hit me with a vehicle…his life needs ta end. But ‘nuff bout all that. My focus right now, is on Kimo Newton. You say, you aint mean ta hit me, you say…I wasn’t ya target…Caleb was…well…look like we got somethin in common. But at the same time, you may have not meant ta drill me with that chair, homeboy…but you did. And anybody that f**k with the Zodiac…’specially one of mah matches….gets-a pay back…b’lee dat. I already done put the red dot on ya forehead, homie….and it aint cuz you Indian….that’s a lazer point, son….you marked fo’ destruction…..I’m boutsta pull the trigga. I can go f**k my Cali self?....That’s coo…I got a long list of haterz, aimin at mah dome. You just anotha numba…just anotha fake-ass thug who I’m bout ta expose as the chump you really is. f**k Hawaii..an ya pineapples an ay coconuts n ALL THAT SHIT…ya heard me?.... I grew up in Cali, SON! I’z doin drive-by’s in mah baby stroller, SON!...You jussa busta.I aint even worried about Hustle or Johnny K. When I hit dat ring…I’m makin a B line, straight fo’ ya dome-piece, Kimo.” Whiteout- “Cuz that how we roll, ya heard me?!” Zodiac- “We hardcore gangsta….YO FROSTY, POOKIE, EDDIE-EDDIE….WE f**k DWARVES IN THE ASS!...I’mma BOSS BALLA!...Betta Recognize. I’m bout sick and tired of hearin ya run ya punk ass run yo GATDAMN mouf….tawlkin all dat bullshit…you aint backin nuthin up, homeboy…you juss sellin WOLF TICKETS!” Whiteout- “Damn right…oh and for all da white people out there wondering ..:WHAT THE GOSH DARN GEE WILIKERS IS HE SAYING?”…sellin wolf tickets mean, all he does is talk…he don’t back shit up….Zod’..as you were.” Zodiac- “Yeeeuh…so anyway…Kimo…you bamboozled me, homie…but I gotch-you. Thug to fake ass thug…when it all comes down to it…I’mma keep it real…I’mma do me. I aint even been back for a month but I already got this whole block on lockdown…I run this shit…you run two things….jack and shit … and jack left town, ya heard me? But enough of all dis tawlk … I’ll see you inside dat ring…I’mma splt ya wig….WE OUT LIKE CLAY AIKEN!” Whiteout- “PIECE!!!” The camera follows Zodiac and Whiteout into “JEZEBEL’S GENTLMEN’S CLUB”. The two men head on in and take a seat as they watch the dancers do what they do. They pass a man, sitting at a neat by table, a slightly over-weight, middle aged man, half bald, sporting a thick mustache and wearing some blue sweat pants, flip flops, a thick, gold chain and a wife-beater tank top. He’s got wing sauce all over his mouth and white, wife-beater. With a very thick New York like accent, the man begins, obnoxiously yelling out loud. “AYE….LOOK AT THAT BROAD!...HA….COME OVA HEH….YOU WANT SOME WING SAUCE ON YA DIRTY PILLOWS OR WHAT??!!” Zodiac and Whiteout turn around to find out who is yelling so loudly. Whiteout- “White people is crazy.” Zodiac- “Damn….dat must be Sean Hustle’s daddy.” Whiteout- “Ha. Ha…..you Crazy.” “AYE … AYE!!! BROAD WAITRESS…GET THAT SWEET LITTLE ASS OVA HEH….THERE'S A BROAD... THERE'S A BROAD RIGHT THERE. HEY! YEAH... YOU, DINGBAT! I WANT A PITCHA OF BEER, FRIED JALAPEÑYAZ, THE NACHOS GRANDÉ, AND GIMME FIFTY MORE WINGS…. EXTRA HOT AND KEEP THE RANCH COMING!!!” Growing more irritated by the minute, Zodiac finally stands up and approaches the obnoxious man and of course he is followed behind by Whiteout. Zodiac- “Aye man, I’m tryin ta watch these girls do what they do…and you distractin me. WHY DON’T YOU SHUT THE f**k UP!” “AYE….KISS MY ASS, TUPAC….THIS IS A FREE COUNTRY OVA HEH!!” Zodiac- “Tupac?! I got ya Tupac!” Zodiac runs up on the man and nails him with a yakuza kick like maneuver, sending the man, falling backwards from his chair, bearing a bloody nose. Just then, about five bouncers run up and escort the two gentlemen outside of the club. Zodiac- “MAYN…GET YA HANDS OFF ME, NEGGA!” Whiteout- “Dass-dat bullshit.” Zodiac- “That’s alright….dat club was busted anyway. Dey had they third string up in there…I think I saw bullet wounds n shit. We’ll fin’ anotha club, ya feel me?...less’ get up outtaheh…I’ll just have-ta take this frustration out on Kimo and dem two white boys, on Overdrive.....” Zodiac and Whiteout get back into Zodiac’s Escalade and peel out of the parking lot while Zodiac roles his window down and yells out. Zodiac- “…B’LEE DAT!!!!!!” |
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12:52 AM Jul 11