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Supa-Man Dat Show
Topic Started: Jan 21 2010, 10:50 PM (100 Views)
The Zodiac Thrilla

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The scene fades in on a thick cloud of smoke, blowing into the camera lens. When the cloud of smoke settles, we see a close up of Zodiac, sitting in the passengers seat of his Escalade. Zodiac is recording from his Flip Video camcorder. Rockin’ his red bandana on his head like Tupac style, Zodiac addresses the camera.

Zodiac- “Yo man, I don’t know why dey don’t juss-make weed legal, ya heard? I mean, gatdamn, this shit aint no where as bad as alcohol. Weed stimulates ya mind, son.”

Zodiac turns his flip video over to Whiteout, who’s driving.

Whiteout- “Mayn, they make money off that shit, the legal system. Dey make mad money, as long as dat shit is still illegal.”

Zodiac- “Whatever mayne, anyay…..Aye, yo, son…what it is? Iss-ya boy, Zodiac, one mo’gin. We out here, still in new yawk….”

Zodiac is quickly interrupted by Whiteout, singing loudly.

Whiteout- “THESE STREETS WILL MAKE YOU FEEL BRAAAAND NEW…THE LIGHTS WILL INSPIIIIIRE YOU….LET’S HEAR IT FOR NEW--”

Zodiac- “AYE AYE!! Damn, son! What I say bout that. You gon’ ruin Alicia Keys for me, dawg. I aint tryin to be picturin you big ass when I hear her sing, damn!..wit-cha big, Suge Knight lookin’ ass”

Whiteout- “Mah bad.”

Zodiac- “Where we headed anyway?”

Whiteout- “I thought we’d hit up Di Carlos, my n***a.”

Zodiac cracks a smile on his face as he reaches over and gives Whiteout daps.

Zodiac- “Thass-whats up. I hope it’s betta than that run down place we went to in Wichita. Dat place was full of mudd ducks, busted ass womenz, I think I saw bullet wounds N shit. Then dat big fat ass cracker in there, runnin his gatdamn mouth off, I’z bout to catch my third strike, son, on da real.”

Whiteout- “Yeah I feel you on that, by the way though, what the hell was wrong wit-cha last week, dawg?”

Zodiac- “Ahh, damn dude, dass dat bi-polar shit, some times it creeps up on me outta no where, son. Sometimes I get all depressed n shit, but come Overdrive, Imma make sure I get on that anger trip, take it out on ERRYBODY!”

Whiteout- “Oh yeah, son. You gotta go up against like ten dudes this week, huh?”

Zodiac takes another hit off his blunt before speaking.

Zodiac- “Hell yeah, son. Well, actually, I gotta face Kimo and ‘Walkah’ den, WHEN I win that joint, I’ll go into the eight man battle royal. Den …when I win THAT joint, I go on to face O’Toole for the intercontinental title, ya feel me?”

Zodiac passes his blunt over to Whiteout and he takes a hit, then passes it back.

Whiteout- “Oh yeah, son. Dat ain’t no joke, son. Ten muhf**kas in one night, but you da Zod’, son. Now, O’Toole, on da otha hand, don’t get it twisted, I know you can whoop soe ass. I’, just sayin’….dude ain’t no joke. That fool’s been through three muhf**kin scaffold matches n shit. Dass-a crazy ass whiteboy.”

Zodiac- “Yeah…well…aye hold up, pull over, I want me some gatdamn Olde English…MALT LIQUOR, SON!”

Whiteout proceeds to pull the Escalade over to a side street.

Zodiac- “Aye, but what I’z sayin….I know I gots me a hell of a task set in front of me, ya heard me? But, I’z a crazy ass negga too, son. I’m comin afta dat IC title….whatever it takes, I’m down like a clown, son. Like Malcolm X said…BY ANY MEANS, NECESSARY! I’m sayin…Imma get my reparations, in da form of that IC title belt, nah’m sayin?”

Zodiac and Whiteout proceed to get out of the Escalade and then walk into Sabatino’s, a liquor store in Albany. Zodiac and Whiteout walk around, inside the store when all of a sudden, a young white women, looks to be in her mid twenties, approaches Zodiac.

Whiteout- “damn, Girl”, The girl smiles

Girl- “OH MY GOD, AREN’T YOU, THE ZODIAC THRILLER?!?!”

Zodiac takes his Flip Video Camcarder and, subtly and sneakingly, moves it behind her, showing her ass then proceeds to slowly, move it up her, showing her body.

Zodiac- “You know this, baby….Aka The Black Supa-Man, aka The END-ALL BE-ALL, aka The NEXT…Intercontinental ‘ChampYOWN’….but most importantly,…TO YOU!...they call me “The Mastodon” cuz I got the trunk in the front…..YEEE-UH!..Now…go ahead and write ya number down ‘fo’ I don’t want it nomo’..”

Girl- “Yeah…I’m kind of taken right now.”

Zodiac- “Whatava…just make sure you tune in to Overdrive, this week and watch me take out ten muhf**kas to get my shot at the IC strap, ya heard?”

Girl- “Whatever….Krimzon Blaze is SO gonna kick your ass and win that battle royal.”

Zodiac grows agitated.

Zodiac- “BITCH..GET OUT MAH FACE..I DON’T SPEAK c**t!!...and rememba dis…rememba mah GATDAMN FACE! Cuz Imma whoop ERRYBODY’S ASS AND GET MY IC TITLE…B’LEE DAT!!”

The girl, agrily walks off shouting “ASSHOLE!”

Zodiac- “WHITEOUT….Les’Roll!”

Zodiac and Whiteout proceed to check out then head back to the Escalade and off down the road as Zodiac addresses his Flip Video Camcorder.

Zodiac- “I’m bout tired of these muhf**kin haterz, ya heard me?”

Whiteout- “Dey juss-hatin on what dey know is true to be, son…next IC champ…BIG ZOD’!!...wait…I think I see DiCarlos, my negga.”

Zodiac- “hell yee-uh…les-do this, son! Dey gon’ have to build a gatdamn ark cuz I’m bousta make it rain like bung-bung, ya heard me?”

Whiteout pulls up to the club’s front entrance. The two get out and head on up to the door to get in.. Two door bouncers approach them and proceed to pat them down then they head on in and start to walk into the V.I.P. room but are quickly interupted by two more bouncers.

Bouncer #1- “Hold up…where do you think YOU’RE going?”, The bouncer says, with his right hand planted on Zodiac’s chest.

Whiteout- “AYE HOL-UP, WHITEBOY….first off, get ya hands off mah boy…you don’t know us like dat.”

Zodiac- “I’m sayin…DON’T YOU KNOW WHO I’M IS?!?!....DA BLACK SUPA-MAN DON’T PLAY DAT SHIT!”

Bouncer #2- “Don’t you know who I AM?...TOP FLIGHT MUHf**kIN SECURITY!..Besides, I need to see a V.I.P. pass or I can’t let you in here.”

Zodiac- “Bitch, I don’t need no gatdamn pass….I’M THE ZODIAC…AKA DA BLACK SUPA-MAN…AKA DARK HERO…and If you don’t get ya damn hands off me….AKA!...THE LAST NEGGA YOU GON’ SEE BESIDES THE SMOKIN BARREL OF MY GAT!”

Bouncer #2- “Oh, you threatin’ me?”

Just then, the manager of the club walks up and assess the situation.

Manager- “Hold up, fellas, fellas…These two gentlemen are some of the finest from the Combat Zone Wrestling….now, let them through or look for new jobs. Zodiac, Whiteout…let me give you a complimentary bottle of courvoisier.”

Zodiac- “Naw, I don’t drink dat fancy shit….juss-gimme Cuervo and keep dat shit comin.”

Whiteout- “Hell yee-uh!”

Zodiac and Whiteout head into the V.I.P. lounge and have a seat. Zodiac, once again, breaks out his Flip Video Camcorder.

Zodiac- “Now befo’ I get to drinkin and too crunk to speak, allow me to address my opponents for this Monday on Overdrive, so all you gatdamn haters know what I gotsta say.”

Whiteout- “Hell yee-uh..BIG ZOD’ tell em how it gon’ be, son!”

Zodiac sneaks out another blunt and takes a hit before continuing.

Zodiac- “You punk bitches don’t know what’s comin…fa-realz. Now…”

Zodiac passes the blunt to Whiteout.

Zodiac- “Caleb ‘Walka’….I don’t like you, homeboy. You ain’t nothin but a juiced up, punk-ass, whiteboy who thinks that, juss-because you got all that muscle, you gon’ walk all ova me. But ya gatdamn mistaken, ya heard me? You wanna run ya gatdamn mouth, talkin about survivin the street don’t make a a warrior? I aint neva claimed, survivin the street as my claim to fame, son. I don’t need a gatdamn street rep to whoop ya ass. I’M JUSS-GON’ DO IT, SON! I aint won a match since I been here, I’ll give ya that much, but it aint about records or who I’v beat in the past…Iss about the here and now and right now, I’m prepared to go through ten muhf**kas to claim what is mine.”

Just then, the wiatress brings in their complimentary bottles of Jose Cuervo as the two men quickly hide their marijuana blunt. The waitress finally leaves the room as Whiteout jumps up in a panic.

Whiteout- “GATDAMN…I BURNT MY ASS, NEGGA!!!”

Zodiac- “Youz-a gatdamn fool, ha. ha.”

Zodiac proceeds to fill his glass and take a shot of Cuervo before continuing.

Zodiac- “Caleb….you don’t think I’m ready fo dis return? You don’t think I gots what it gon’ take to win this triple threat and go on to fight amongst the battle royal? Guess what, homeboy….I DON’T GIVES A DAMN WHAT YOU THINK, SON! You question whether or not I can keep up….you say dis business favors the big man. Where the f**k you been, the past decade?!?!....Dis a new era….and it favors the high flyers, the quick and agile….Hell, our world champ aint a big man, out FORMER world champ wasn’t a big man. Matter-fact go look at ALL the past world champions…there’s only been one “big man” dats held that title and dat was O’Toole….Matt Stylez, Ace King, Montana, Pabs, Collum, Cage, Fiscus….GO LOOK, SON! Oh and les-not fuh-get the first ever world champYUN…..yours truly. Mah point bein, is that I’mma run circles around ya punk ass….or maybe I should just sneak into ya locker-room and hide ya gatdamn needles…so ya punk-ass can’t juice up. By da way…you wanna know if I can hang….”

A smirk appears on Zodiac’s face as he continues.

Zodiac- “I can hang….go ask ya mother. Ha. ha. I hang LOW, SON! All da time for talk will be over, come Monday night, son. Imma show you why dey call me THE END-ALL-BE-ALL” Cuz Imma end you, once and for all.”

Zodiac takes another hit off his blunt then another sip of his Cuervo before continuing on. They are then approached by two dancers.

Dancer #1- “You guys want a dance?”

Whiteout- “Jus give us another minute, mah boy is shootin a promo fo’ his big night on Overdrive, this Monday night. Matter-fact, take a seat, this shit’s getting interesting.”

The two dancers sitdown on the lounge couch while Zodiac continues.

Zodiac- “Kimo…you kno what, homie…I used to couldn’t stand yo punk-ass and still can’t to a certain extent BUT I got an offer you may not wanna refuse, my negga. Now, I planz on whipin da matt with ya gatdamn face, ya heard me? And I expect you to wanna do the same with me, ya feel me? But we gots one thing in common….we don’t like that punk-ass, roided up, whiteboy, Caleb. All I’m sayin is….we take his punk-bitch-ass out the gatdamn picture den we go to war…and fyn’ out who the betta man is. Les showthis muhf**ka all about the new era in pro wrestlin is all about….it aint about the bag man…iss about the quick and the agile, son. I respec’ da fact that you avengin the ambush, coward ass beat down, ya boy received at the hands of Caleb. But don’t get it twisted, ya feel me?..I’m juss sayin, once we get his punk-ass out the way…we take off the gloves and take it to the streets…juss think about it, nah’m sayin? Dis muf**ka thinks he da only one dat stands a chance at winning dis match…f**k all dat. We da dark horses of dis company….we gon’ take over…I’M TAKEN OVER! Firs-stop…IC title…den Imma claim back da world title…..whoever that may be at da time…yeah, Fiscus…Youz a cool ass muhf**ka and all but watch out....black sup-man got you in his crosshairs, ya dig?” Kimo…don’t think I done gon’ soft on ya….ya boy commin straight fo yo ass…once we get rid of Lou Ferrigno, Imma beat ya like ya momma should have.”

Whiteout- “Shit, Imma big muhf**ka, myself but I feel you, shit’s changed since nineteen ninety two….dis the era of the agile, the quick, the lean and mean, son.”

Zodiac- “Das all I’m sayin. Now as far as the battle royal is concerned, dat shit is packed full of some quick and agile muhf**kas, ya feel me? But like I say…don’t get it twisted, Imma take out as many muhf**kas as possible and win dat joint.”

Zodiac takes another shot of Cuervo then quickly shakes his head.

Whiteout- “Wuss-wrong, dawg?”

Zodiac- “Dis shit….I’m startin to feel that buzz, ya feel me? Anyway….Zilla, King, Blaze, Kirkland, Pabs, Finch…..don’t take dis ass whippin personal….Iss juss bi’niss. I don’t like any of yall But I respect most of yall…..cept Finch. You da gatdamn posta-boy for WHITE AMERICA. You represent erry-thing I hate about dis world. So, don’t be surprised if I come afta you, first…..QUE VA A SER ASESINATO!!...B’lee dat!”

Whiteout- “I ain’t know you spoke spanish, negga.”

Zodiac- “Crea Eso .. B’lee dat! Iz bilingual, dawg…betta recognize. I’m juss sayin…I don’t even know dat dude and he pisses me off. Dass da type of dude dat walks around wit his nose all stuck up in the gatdamn air n shit…he’s a busta, a straight up punk-BITCH! I’m foreal, son…I’m not waitin for the gatdamn bell to rang…imma run up in there and bust em in his forehead…like bung-bung, ya heard?”

Whiteout- “I feel ya…I wanna catch em sleepin one time….just one gatdamn time then iss like LIGHTS OUT, SON!...SNOOKI PUNCH!”

Zodiac turns back to his Flip Video Camcorder.

Zodiac- “Ya heard that, Finch? …FAKE-ASS FRANK BITCH! Thass ya new name, son…and Fiscus…I like you, dawg….why the f**k is you rollin wit this dude? Like fa’real…but I guess I feel you cuz you got em on bitch duty..ha ha…so dass cool.”

Whiteout- “Ha…hell yeah, …he got that dude pumpin his gas…like a bitch. Fiscus cool with me, I like dat.”

Zodiac- “Speaking of bitches….I keep addressin dis over and over BUT I’m serious…dead f**kin serious. Jesse Montana….you think I done fuh-got about your bitch ass…NADA! I remember dat day like it was gatdamn yesterday. Youz a Hickenbottom, ya heard me?"

Whiteout- "Aye dawg, wussa Hickenbottom?"

Zodiac- "I don't even know, my nig..I just made that up...iss like a mark, a punk ass bitch..but anyway...You pulled a punk ass move and youz gon’ pay for it….but you not gon’ know when dat shit’s comin. Imma catch you from behind…tap ya on ya gatdamn shoulder then pop you dead in yo mouf. But dass fo anotha day. Fa right now…I’m focused on runnin through ten muhf**kas to get dat shot at da IC strap….boys…get ready…especially you, O’Toole…look out…”

Whiteout- “Issa bird…issa plane….iss….”

Zodiac stands up and starts doing the ‘Crank That Soulja Boy’ dance

Zodiac- “…BLACK SUPA-MAN!!!....B’LEE DAT!”

Zodiac sits back down as the two dancers straddle both men and they start to get their lap dances. Zodiac shuts his Flip Video Camcorder down as the scene cuts to static.
Edited by The Zodiac Thrilla, Jan 22 2010, 03:50 AM.
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