| **The scene opens as Rob Osbourne is leaving the AIW offices after his meeting with Donovan Torigianni. Rob is standing at the door of his Ferrari as Donovan is walking towards his car.** NRO: So tell me D.... How is the little Danky in bed? **Donovan looks at Rob, puts his hand on Rob�s shoulder and squeezes.** Donovan: If I told ya, I�d hafta kill ya. **Donovan pats Rob�s cheek and grins at him, letting go of his shoulder. NRO walks to the driver�s side door and stops as Donovan is getting into his car.** NRO: That good, huh? **Donovan flips Rob the bird and closes the door as Osbourne laughs getting into his own car. Before Donovan can drive off, Rob peels out of the parking space leaving a cloud of smoke behind him. Donovan shakes his head and follows behind the cloud of burnt rubber. Rob hangs a sharp left onto the 131st street bridge leading into the Barrio area of Manhatten where fellow AIW superstar El Pollo Loco has taken up residence. He pops the Italian sports car into neautral and pulls the hand brake and spins doing a 180 into the open parking space behind the Black truck that belongs to his opponent at Heatwave, Bruno of Dick Squad. El Pollo Loco sits in the bed of the truck in a folding chair smoking a HUGE spliff of Tijuana's finest brown dank. Rob hops out of the car and leaps up into the bed of the truck...** NRO: You gonna make me smell it? Shit let me inhale it, let me hit that bitch! EPL: Ah, Snoop Dog, Half Baked, 1998, right? NRO: You pass your pot movie history test this time, good job. Now, for real, pass that shit, damn nigga don't be hoggin the shit, you need to pass it, puff puff give, puff puff give...you lucky you my boy, you do that shit with somebody else, they'd kill your ass! EPL: Good one, Smoke Dog, Friday, 1996. NRO: Way to be on your toes, now gimme the spliff you little wetback mother fucker! EPL: Oh dog, you got me, what's that from? NRO: What? Oh, ok, you're fried out of your mind, I'll play along, uhm, Robbie Pothead and The Chamber of Bongsmoke, 2002. EPL: Oh shit son, some new shit? I gots to peep that shit yo, when it come out ? NRO: Oh fuck me, will you put the marijuana cigarette in my godamned hand already? **El Pollo smiles and hands Rob the doob. Rob Hits it, holds the smoke in until he fells like his chest is going to explode, then he exhales slowly through his nose, resembling a snorting bull. Then he hits it again, and again, and once more, wash, rinse, repeat. Then he hands El Pollo a roach, as he has decimated his blunt. El Pollo just stares at the roach, then stares at Rob, then looks back at the roach...** EPL: You're gonna fucking die mang! NRO: Whoa esse, just tell me what I owe ya...we're amigos, no need for violence! EPL: No dog, for real, I laced that shit B, you're gonna fucking OD mang! NRO: What did you lace it with? EPL: Heroine B. NRO: That all? Shit, I've been hit with an entire vial of grade A smack in the chest before, it'll take more than a little Heaven mixed in some hash to take me out. EPL: You are my new God, you know that shit, right holmes? NRO: Well thank you monsignor, I will have the Parrish erect an altar in my likeness at which you can come to pray. On the second Sunday of each month, you will break bread and take drink in memory of my acts. Then, once the appropriate time has come, at the appropriate place, you can offer up your first wife you take as a slave for my concubines, and I will make you a governor over one of my flocks, and ye shall receive ten pence your current wages. More to the disciples, and less to the pagans!!! EPL: What the fuck did you say mang? Yo B, were you already stoned when you got here dog? **Rob stops and looks to the camera, as if he has known it was there all the time, and also as if El Pollo doesn't see it there too. He whispers like a commentator over a golf game, or the guy in the 100,000 doillar Pyramid giving the clues to the audience at home.** NRO: Uhm....let's see, he's obviously speaking Ebonics here, so I'll have to translate. AHEM... (to El Pollo) naw son, what I was bringin to you on the fo real was that dis nigga got his shit on lockdown, aight? I'm talkin bout settin shit up, and breakin mother fuckers off something proper, cause I ain't about lettin fools run up in my shit and run that mouth like they somebody. I'ma put that bitch ass, mark ass nigga T-Money in his place. EPL: True dat, but what about dat straight up buster ass mother fucker, Bruno? NRO: Awe shit son, I ain't sweatin' that biznitch. Yo, The Dick Squad, Bruno and TJ, they think they real, they ain't real, I'm the realest, illest, mad mobbinist mother fucker up in this biatch! Na mean? EPL: No doubt, it's all good , but what if them niggas step? NRO: They step, let em step, cuz they bound to drizown! EPL: Awe shit son! Let out your inner ghetto! NRO: Flatout! But frilly do boss, I need to pick me up a pound of that shit I just smoked, cause I'm straight tore up, and I sound like mother fuckin slim shady, noit a slim lady, well, okayt maybe. I'm spittin when I talk, but however, I won't fuck anything that walks. What I will do though, and I don't care, you can scream it out a window, is beat down that fool Brno, then fuck it , whoknows? I may just get froggy and jump on that bitch ass mark ass chump...jiggy jiggy T-Money, is gonna get T-Murdered! Do you feel me? **El Pollo zips a duffel back under his folding chair and kicks it over to NRO.** EPL: Yo, I feel you fo show! I'll catch up with you on that at the meeting, I don't want you puttin 2 G's in my paws in broad daylight fool. Yo, when is that AIW mandatory meeting? NRO: That'll work for me. How the hell should I know, I just work there. Call D, he'll tell you. EPL: Aight then, peace out my nigga! NRO: Whatever. **Osbourne peels out again in his Ferarri and heads towards Laguardia airport where his private jumbo jet is parked. He pulls up onto the jet and parks the Ferarri. As he enters his cabin area carrying the duffel bag from El Pollo's with him he notices that the bowl on his bong by his desk is still smoking. He realizes someone is in his part of the Osbourne Inc. jet. He snifs the air, trying to pick up the trail of smoke. He walks to the back and hears water running in the shower. He pulls open the shower curtain to reveal a very sexy brunette who's back is to the camera to not only conceal her identity, but her naked figure as well. Rob's jaw drops to the floor as she notices him and begins to speak. ** Woman: Where have you been sexy? NRO: Taking care of business, kissing babies, shaking hands, getting Donovan so stoned he couldn't walk? Woman: Donovan Torigianni was getting high? NRO: He wasn't "getting high" persay, but he had a helluva contact. Would I lie? Woman: Do you really want me to answer that one? **Rob laughs as he pulls the woman out of the shower and carries her to the bed and makes sweet love to her. Two and a half ohours later...** NRO: Can we do that again... Woman: No, we can't I have to get back to work. NRO: Well at least rub my shoulders, will ya? Just the left one, god damn it hurts... Woman: Still sore from the match baby? NRO: Hell no, I'm still sore from this big meathook that was tugging on my shoulder earlier...but really, can't we just have one more ? Just a quickie? Woman: (lifting the cover and looking down at "The Nitemare" and then turning back to Rob.) Why can't I ever say no to you? I hate you, you know that , right? NRO: Grrrr baby, very grrrrrr! **They slide under the covers and about ten minutes later the fine ass woman gets up and slips into her clothes and takes her leave. As she pulls away the jet begins to take off. Rob lays there in bed smiling..** |
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| NRO: You didn't think I forgot about Stickboy did you? Hell no I haven't. Maybe your right Sickness, maybe I am a foul mouthed drug addict, but the day you take out this smart-ass burnout out, is the day I will know that I just don't have the stuff anymore and I'll walk away from the game forever. But seeing how you don't have a proverbial snowball's chance in hell of ever getting a win in on me, makes me realize that, wether I may lose a step now and again, i can still dance! |
| However, I will give you a chance to make this whole "nitemare" go away for you. You can hand in your resignation to the IoA offices now. I want you to know that if your the Sickboy, then once the AIW has taken over the IoA, I will be your Cure. Do you hear me now? |
| **The scene finally fades to black as Rob slips off into an in flight marijuana induced coma. Til next time, it's been your pleasure.** |
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| The preceding announcement was paid for by: |
| In concjunction with: |
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