Tony: Why must Dr. Abortion’s music always cut me off
mid-sentence?
Harry: Bad luck, I guess.
Dr. Abortion and Ms. C step out
of the Entrance way. Ms. C is smiling and holding her hip. The Doc is serious,
and has a microphone in hand.
Dr. A: Chevalier… you “won” a Tag Match against me earlier. A
fluke, of course. The Maniacal Medic is not one to take a loss easily. I mean,
sure I had an 8% winning percentage in the CRF… but that’s just because they
wouldn’t put a baby killer over. Yet that malicious mid-carder has moved up in
this world, and now it is time to abort Chevalier’s career.
Lets face it; usually it is better
to abort something, say, around the first trimester. It’s a lot easier, but
it’s less fun, of course. Now Chevy, if we divide potential into three stages,
third being ‘past’ your prime, Chevalier is somewhere in his 400th
trimester.
It’s the same thing, over and over
and over again with him. Why not just call it quits when you have nothing
original to do. I mean you’re French, you’re a good guy, we get it. What a
stale gimmick.
Please – if there is one thing I
hate it’s a stale gimmick that gets old real quick.
…I kill babies, you know?
The doc takes the mic and
throws it violently into the audience. I dunno, injuring some kid or something.
Yeah.
Tony: Well, M. l'Estang is a distinguished gentleman, I’m sure
he hasn’t seen such abrasive, low-brow speech in all his years. Dr. A is
showing the contemptibility that we associate with him.
Harry: Blah, blah… lets just get to the match.
The doc makes his way down the
ramp, Ms. C follows at a slower pace behind. As Dr. Abortion slides into the
ring, the bell rings.