Post by Dave Dangerously on May 25, 2008 12:13:16 GMT -6
Dave Dudley: Morrigan's back, eh? That brings me back...
The Hardcore Icon Dave Dudley remembers a time when love was in the air, infatuation was around us, and there was time for a midnight rendzevous...
About four years ago.
We're in a classy hotel room.
We see two bodies, making passionate love to one another amist the moonlight.
Two bodies, betwixt a set of luxurious silk sheets, ever so moistened by the sweat from their glistening bodies,
and from their savory bodily fluids.
The scent in the room is exhilarating, as two sets of wicked pheremones light up the night sky like fireworks.
On the bedside table, an empty bottle of the finest champagne.
We see rose petals on the floor, also, as well as some discarded lingerie laying around like it was peeled off of a fresh orange.
Indubitably, this is a scene of romance to it's finest degree...
Outside the hotel door, now.
A waiter comes up, with another bottle of champagne.
Waiter: I hope this is her room. Sylv..Sliv...Silv..damn it, I can't pronounce this chick's name. She goes through champagne, condoms, and hotel rooms worse than fucking Tucker Max.
If you don't get that reference, google Tucker Max, kids.
Waiter: Still, she tips well. Well enough for here in...LANDOVER, MICHIGAN!
Cheap pops aside, The Hardcore Icon Dave Dudley walks up, grabbing the receipt.
Dave Dudley: Dude, we're not in Landover. This is Philadelphia. At the Rick's.
Waiter: You mean the Ritz.
Dave Dudley: No, it's the Rick's. ICW can't afford a Z in their hotel name. And is Landover even in Michigan?
Waiter: ...I dunno. I just wanted to type that.
Dave Dudley: The fuck?
Waiter: ...anyway, hey, you're Mr. Dudley. Aren't you supposed to be in there making those animal noises?
Dave Dudley: You mean the hippo and chimpanzee noises? Hell no. Sylver Morrigan? I wouldn't touch her with ITR's twelve inch dick.
I used a body double.
Waiter: That's terrible!
Dave Dudley: You're terrible, bitch. Now give me that bottle of champagne, this one is on me. PISS OFF!
the waiter leaves, as Dudley eyeballs the bottle.
Dave Dudley: Ah, the bubbly. Without you, highschoolers would never get laid...
The door opens, and we see a frazzled...
Sign Guy Dudley!
He is breathing heavily, his hair is messed up and his glasses are askew.
Sign Guy: {breathing hard} ...sigh...sigh...sigh...NO MAS!
Dave Dudley: Come on, champ. You can go another round, right?
Sign Guy: So...drunk...champagne...breath....smells like ashtray...dick...RAW.
Dave Dudley: Well that's what John Holmes used to say. Get back in there, slugger! And don't forget the note!
Dudley slams Sign Guy back into the room, as he laughs. The note in question reads:
Dear Morrigan: Our night of passion was great. But now I must go. It's not you, it's me.
And if that doesn't work,
I have the HIV.
Sincerely,
Hardcore Icon
Dave Dudley: Ah, what a fond memory. I wonder if she ever even found out she banged Sign Guy Dudley.
He didn't complain after the fact, though. But his wife...youch. He sings good castrato now, by the way...
She should have known better, Dave Dudley can never be swayed by love. To quote a certain ScottiePP7,
I'm not a businessman,
I'm a business, MAN!
My business? KICKING ASS.
The Gladiator? He's next, this thursday.
And Morrigan? She'd better worry about the Triple T: The Triple Terror Tournament.
...hmm. Guess that's four T's.
They'd all better worry about the Tournament. Because it's going to be hell. And they're going to have to get through me.
Because I've been to hell, and back. A few times, actually.
And I'm READY.
The Hardcore Icon Dave Dudley remembers a time when love was in the air, infatuation was around us, and there was time for a midnight rendzevous...
About four years ago.
We're in a classy hotel room.
We see two bodies, making passionate love to one another amist the moonlight.
Two bodies, betwixt a set of luxurious silk sheets, ever so moistened by the sweat from their glistening bodies,
and from their savory bodily fluids.
The scent in the room is exhilarating, as two sets of wicked pheremones light up the night sky like fireworks.
On the bedside table, an empty bottle of the finest champagne.
We see rose petals on the floor, also, as well as some discarded lingerie laying around like it was peeled off of a fresh orange.
Indubitably, this is a scene of romance to it's finest degree...
Outside the hotel door, now.
A waiter comes up, with another bottle of champagne.
Waiter: I hope this is her room. Sylv..Sliv...Silv..damn it, I can't pronounce this chick's name. She goes through champagne, condoms, and hotel rooms worse than fucking Tucker Max.
If you don't get that reference, google Tucker Max, kids.
Waiter: Still, she tips well. Well enough for here in...LANDOVER, MICHIGAN!
Cheap pops aside, The Hardcore Icon Dave Dudley walks up, grabbing the receipt.
Dave Dudley: Dude, we're not in Landover. This is Philadelphia. At the Rick's.
Waiter: You mean the Ritz.
Dave Dudley: No, it's the Rick's. ICW can't afford a Z in their hotel name. And is Landover even in Michigan?
Waiter: ...I dunno. I just wanted to type that.
Dave Dudley: The fuck?
Waiter: ...anyway, hey, you're Mr. Dudley. Aren't you supposed to be in there making those animal noises?
Dave Dudley: You mean the hippo and chimpanzee noises? Hell no. Sylver Morrigan? I wouldn't touch her with ITR's twelve inch dick.
I used a body double.
Waiter: That's terrible!
Dave Dudley: You're terrible, bitch. Now give me that bottle of champagne, this one is on me. PISS OFF!
the waiter leaves, as Dudley eyeballs the bottle.
Dave Dudley: Ah, the bubbly. Without you, highschoolers would never get laid...
The door opens, and we see a frazzled...
Sign Guy Dudley!
He is breathing heavily, his hair is messed up and his glasses are askew.
Sign Guy: {breathing hard} ...sigh...sigh...sigh...NO MAS!
Dave Dudley: Come on, champ. You can go another round, right?
Sign Guy: So...drunk...champagne...breath....smells like ashtray...dick...RAW.
Dave Dudley: Well that's what John Holmes used to say. Get back in there, slugger! And don't forget the note!
Dudley slams Sign Guy back into the room, as he laughs. The note in question reads:
Dear Morrigan: Our night of passion was great. But now I must go. It's not you, it's me.
And if that doesn't work,
I have the HIV.
Sincerely,
Hardcore Icon
Dave Dudley: Ah, what a fond memory. I wonder if she ever even found out she banged Sign Guy Dudley.
He didn't complain after the fact, though. But his wife...youch. He sings good castrato now, by the way...
She should have known better, Dave Dudley can never be swayed by love. To quote a certain ScottiePP7,
I'm not a businessman,
I'm a business, MAN!
My business? KICKING ASS.
The Gladiator? He's next, this thursday.
And Morrigan? She'd better worry about the Triple T: The Triple Terror Tournament.
...hmm. Guess that's four T's.
They'd all better worry about the Tournament. Because it's going to be hell. And they're going to have to get through me.
Because I've been to hell, and back. A few times, actually.
And I'm READY.