- Event: Refueled L
Without further ado…
…Jatt Starr has graced us with his presence and?
Oh…
Ugh…
Fart noise.
Your waste management company could not keep up with the sheer amount of shit and garbage that was dropped on me from that ‘promo.’ Look I am impressed you created a screenplay that even Uwe Boll wouldn’t make into a movie.
I suppose this is your way of insulting Miracle Enterprise without naming it. I can respect you leaning into your strength of being a child in a man’s body. This time I am not talking about your preference for milking children either. It can’t be a horrible screenplay without shoehorning your own insecurities into it. Look we know you are not immune to anything. We look at you and see makeup covering Herpes and just because it isn’t always shown doesn’t mean you don’t have it.
Just like you don’t have Anal Warts.
Just like you didn’t make bone broth from Gilda’s skeleton.
Just like you didn’t go out and buy The Holy Water because you thought it might cure that mole that has one long hair in it that you cannot remove from your back.
Just like you don’t sit on your back porch wishing you had some money to invest in the next great Miracle Enterprise product.
Oh, my apologies you sold out of a product…that isn’t sold anywhere. Whoopdeefuckingdo, liar.
Next you will claim to not doing used needle angels after a crazy weekend with Sektor.
Look, Brannigan Starr you must think I give a fuck if something I sold gave someone the drizzling shits. Better that then actually being the drizzling shits. That is me calling you a petty insecure piece of shit that the fucking plunger continuously has difficulty flushing.
Calling me an Alien with shoddy murder practices is almost a compliment. I said almost because if I ever had to listen to dialogue like that again I might commit a murder and then who would StarrSek Industries try to impersonate?
Granted you could choose anyone but then again that would take getting off your couch and putting a pair of pants on and forgive me, but I have a feeling your waist has changed again.
It got bigger. I think that is obvious, but you know everyone needs everything explained to them these days.
That was a fat joke and not even a good one, but did you just hear what I heard? Do I have to make a good fat joke or just point at him and nod? You get it? Saturated Starr cannot keep his own attention let alone MINE before imagining a bag of chips in his hand or free basing Cheetos in Lee Bests office. He is blind he doesn’t know any better.
You have a limited amount of time and poop was the underlying concept. I would give you a round of applause, but you might need a roll of toilet paper instead.
Congrats on having IBS.
The sheer disrespect you have shown me is not unexpected. You have tried to invade my kiosk at The Best Arena, and you are still whining about me interrupting you before ICONIC. It is all just very funny to me because you know there are no stuntmen in HOFC. You will waddle up to the cage and look across at me. The younger, handsome baldheaded, amazing beard future of HOW: Steve Harrison, with only bloodlust showing on my model face.
You will have to fight me without any help and any ladders to give you an advantage. This will be me using my knees to crush whatever is left of that spine of yours.
I hope you drink a lot of Milk and Water and die from Dysentery.
That is some fucking Oregon Trail segment synergy, you assholes.
Not so fast…
…I just so happen to have found the conclusion to your nail-biting screenplay.
“The Alien is here and killing everyone with his tasty murder fluids.”
“What do we do?”
“We either run or fight back.”
“How long till it is here?”
“750 seconds.”
“Can we just give up now?”
“We also have 750 bullets, but we need to load the gun.”
“Yea, no…let’s just kowtow to our new Alien overlord. I don’t even know how to load a gun and 750 bullets is too much for me.”
“Oh?”
“I think it would end up with me getting 750 wounds before I find a defense.”
(Explosions, all die.)
Wow, Oscar Worthy, Jatt, and so honest.