Post by game on Jun 11, 2006 13:11:00 GMT -5
Reno King is sitting at a bar late at night. He’s drinking a beer, obviously, and wearing dark sunglasses and his left hand has a gigantic ring on it. His right one has two. He has a large Jets jersey on and is wearing extremely baggy blue jeans. He takes a sip of his beer. Then, without warning, Nick Wylde walks in. But this isn’t a Wylde most people are used to seeing. This Wylde is decked out in purple clothing, complete with a wide-brimmed hat and a gold feather. He smiles at King, showing golden teeth. They slap hands and pull each other in, touching their shoulders together.
Nick Wylde: What up, R?
Reno King: You know me, jus’ chillin’.
Nick Wylde: Tight, tight. This place is jumpin’.
Reno King: Heard that.
Nick Wylde: This seat taken, bro?
Reno King: Naw, man.
Nick Wylde sits down and orders a beer. He is served a tall glass of foaming beer, which he quickly drinks. It seems that whatever is going on can’t pierce their natural instincts. Nick takes a deep swallow of beer and sets the glass back down. Reno drinks his own beer. After he finishes, he takes off his belt, which he’s been wearing around his waist, and lays it on the bar counter.
Reno King: So, Nick, what you think ‘bout T-Neff and Deamon?
Nick Wylde: Bro, they be straight up punks, knamean? An’ it’s time we lay the smackdown. Fo’ sho’.
Reno King: Right, right. They be thinkin’ that they all that an’ shit. Time ta let ‘em know who’s boss.
Nick Wylde: Word. The gold looks nice, man.
Reno King: Woulda looked better if it was the tag gold, ya feel me? Can't believe we let that slip away.
Nick Wylde: True....true. It's alright, we'll get our hands on those bitches again, don't worry.
Reno takes another sip of his beer. Nick looks at Reno sternly, as if something’s bothering him.
Nick Wylde: We gotta get our act together, and fast homie.
Reno King: I know I know. If I wasn't too blingin, I'd think we were on a losing streak or somethin.
Nick Wylde: I hear ya, bro.
Reno King: So now we gotta take it out on these two low riders this week.
Nick Wylde: Fo’ sho?
Reno King: Fo’ sho’, my brutha. T-Neff and Deamon Cohln.
Nick Wylde: Man, they ain’t no thang. We can mess ‘em up Monday quick. Like Neff said, we the only tag team in the OTB wit a name. And that's because we've made a name everywhere we been. Made a name in this fed. Made a name in that fed. Made a name in the other feds. They ain’t nothin’.
Reno King: When Vendetta brings its ass around, we gon’ pick up another win, pick up another check, and someone’s gon’ have to pick up two bodies.
Nick Wylde: I heard that, bro!
They continue to drink. Reno shakes his head and sighs after a long swig of beer. Nick Wylde slaps Reno on the back.
Nick Wylde: The titles is what this is all about bro. We beat these two "talents" and we prove we deserve another title shot. Hell, you one of da best in this bitch...An’ we all know that I’m one of the best. It’s jus’ a matter of combinin’ our talents and openin’ up a can o’ nuclear whoopass on Deam an’ Neff at Vendetta.
Reno King: Fo’ sho, my brutha! It’s high time we kicked this thing into high gear! We gon’ raise the roof on Jersey. Deam and T-Neff don’t stand a frozen crackwhore’s ass’s chance in hell, knamean? By the end of da night, we gon’ make them crawl like the bitches they are!
Nick Wylde: And what bitches they are, R! It’s time to show those punks why people talk about our success on da street, heard? They gon’ remember what we did to them for a long time t’ come, heard?
Reno King: An’ I heard that, bro! That deserves a...
Reno King & Nick Wylde: HOODIEHOO!
They begin to laugh and drink again as the screen fades to black.
Nick Wylde: What up, R?
Reno King: You know me, jus’ chillin’.
Nick Wylde: Tight, tight. This place is jumpin’.
Reno King: Heard that.
Nick Wylde: This seat taken, bro?
Reno King: Naw, man.
Nick Wylde sits down and orders a beer. He is served a tall glass of foaming beer, which he quickly drinks. It seems that whatever is going on can’t pierce their natural instincts. Nick takes a deep swallow of beer and sets the glass back down. Reno drinks his own beer. After he finishes, he takes off his belt, which he’s been wearing around his waist, and lays it on the bar counter.
Reno King: So, Nick, what you think ‘bout T-Neff and Deamon?
Nick Wylde: Bro, they be straight up punks, knamean? An’ it’s time we lay the smackdown. Fo’ sho’.
Reno King: Right, right. They be thinkin’ that they all that an’ shit. Time ta let ‘em know who’s boss.
Nick Wylde: Word. The gold looks nice, man.
Reno King: Woulda looked better if it was the tag gold, ya feel me? Can't believe we let that slip away.
Nick Wylde: True....true. It's alright, we'll get our hands on those bitches again, don't worry.
Reno takes another sip of his beer. Nick looks at Reno sternly, as if something’s bothering him.
Nick Wylde: We gotta get our act together, and fast homie.
Reno King: I know I know. If I wasn't too blingin, I'd think we were on a losing streak or somethin.
Nick Wylde: I hear ya, bro.
Reno King: So now we gotta take it out on these two low riders this week.
Nick Wylde: Fo’ sho?
Reno King: Fo’ sho’, my brutha. T-Neff and Deamon Cohln.
Nick Wylde: Man, they ain’t no thang. We can mess ‘em up Monday quick. Like Neff said, we the only tag team in the OTB wit a name. And that's because we've made a name everywhere we been. Made a name in this fed. Made a name in that fed. Made a name in the other feds. They ain’t nothin’.
Reno King: When Vendetta brings its ass around, we gon’ pick up another win, pick up another check, and someone’s gon’ have to pick up two bodies.
Nick Wylde: I heard that, bro!
They continue to drink. Reno shakes his head and sighs after a long swig of beer. Nick Wylde slaps Reno on the back.
Nick Wylde: The titles is what this is all about bro. We beat these two "talents" and we prove we deserve another title shot. Hell, you one of da best in this bitch...An’ we all know that I’m one of the best. It’s jus’ a matter of combinin’ our talents and openin’ up a can o’ nuclear whoopass on Deam an’ Neff at Vendetta.
Reno King: Fo’ sho, my brutha! It’s high time we kicked this thing into high gear! We gon’ raise the roof on Jersey. Deam and T-Neff don’t stand a frozen crackwhore’s ass’s chance in hell, knamean? By the end of da night, we gon’ make them crawl like the bitches they are!
Nick Wylde: And what bitches they are, R! It’s time to show those punks why people talk about our success on da street, heard? They gon’ remember what we did to them for a long time t’ come, heard?
Reno King: An’ I heard that, bro! That deserves a...
Reno King & Nick Wylde: HOODIEHOO!
They begin to laugh and drink again as the screen fades to black.