The Mysterious Backstage Happenings at a Live Jolt Event

Characters: Ken Kaze, George the Trashcan, & Random Appearances Galore

“WOOOOOOOOOOO~! MOFO! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO~! WOOOOOO~! WOOOOOOOOO~! GOT DAYMIT, I SAID WOOOOOO~!”

The deafeningly loud and obnoxious yells of ecstasy resounded through the corridors of the MCI Center in Washington, D.C. Every occupant striding through the nearby hallways performed an about face, or looked to their appropriate side, to see just who it was. And the source behind the voice was instantly recognized as he strolled into view, dragging a cylindrical tin object behind him, a championship belt strapped around his waist backwards.

Wait. Not just backwards, but upside down.

No doubt, it was the new Ambassador Champion of Jolt Wrestling, the Resident Moron himself, Kenneth F’N Kaze.

“GET THE FREAK OUTTA MY WAY, DAYMIT. I’M THE EFFIN’ AMBASSADOR AROUND THIS SHIZNAT. THAT MEANS . . . I EFFIN’ POON ALL OF YOU ASSJACKS. SO GET TO STEPPIN’, ALL OF YOU BOTTLENUTS!”

For once in his life, the Hero of Hardcore paced through an arena with the confidence of God within his small frame. Could one win really do that to a man? Could a championship belt really change a man just like that?

WHAT THE F[Expletive Deleted]K, MOTHER F[Expletive Deleted]KER?! OF COURSE IT CAN!

Plus, not only was Kaze the Ambassador of Jolt, he was one of few men who could ever claim to hold a clean-swept win over the Future of Wrestling, Kenjiro Ito. The third man to be exact, but the second in singles contest. Though, if you asked Ito himself, he’d most likely tell you that hardcore matches don’t count because they’re not technically matches. Neither are tag matches nor singles matches against men with crack-whores in their corner for support.

Ken walked straight through the occupied corridor with a head of steam, brushing past wrestlers that haven’t been seen on television in weeks. For instance, Ken’s shoulder ran right through King Cobra, causing him to stumble into a pile of crates . . . which inevitably fell on top of his head. That, of course, lead to an aneurysm in his penis, causing it to literally EXPLODE on national television. Semen and ball guts flew everywhere. It was crazy.

Mittens T. Cat was seen squatting in a corner, while scraping at the cement ground with his back foot, apparently trying to hide something. Coburn P. Valencia and Phil Atken seemed to be entranced in a rather intriguing conversation behind another stack of crates, which was evident by Valencia’s responding satisfied facial expressions. Upon closer inspection, Hosni was in between the two men, ducked low enough to be hidden from view on the opposite of the crates. His head was weaving in and out in a “bobbing” fashion, as Atken seemed rather weak because his knees continuously buckled, causing him to push up against Hosni.

“Bobbing for apples, eh faggot?” Ken queried. “Go ask that fruit basket Alan Ambrose for some more if you run out.”

It wasn’t long before the sexy women began to hunt down the Hero of Hardcore after his hard-fought battle at the Mayfall. For, a rather beautiful, voluptuous brunette clad in a black stylish long skirt and soft blue halter top began to approach him immediately. As the angelic figure moved into closer examination, she turned out to be Jolt Wrestling’s own interviewer, Kelly Andrews.

“Kaze!” she said, approaching him swiftly. “Kaze,” she repeated as she rounded onto the Ambassador Champion. “I wanted to get a few afterthoughts from you, if you didn’t mind.”

Stopping dead in his tracks, Kaze set George onto the ground before gazing at Andrews. A maniacal smile overwhelmed his face.

“Of course I don’t mind,” he replied.

“Good,” she responded, satisfied.

“AS LONG AS I GET SOME POON AT THE END OF THE NIIII-HIIIIIGHT! HAA HAAAA!” he yelled, while apparently “high-fiving” George.

With an obvious look of disgust on her face, Kelly said, “You can forget that, Mr. Retard. It’s my job to interview the new Ambassador Champ. But if you’re going to talk like that, I think I’ll —”

“WHAT IT IS HO?!” Ken interrupted instantly.

“Huh —”

“WHAT’S UP?!”

“Uh . . . are you okay, Mr. Kaze?” Andrews asked politely.

“CAN AN AMBASSADOR GET IN THEM GUTS?!” he said in a singsong voice, reciting the lyrics to “Some Cut” by Trillville. “THEM GUUUTTSSSS?!” he added in with an high-pitched, squeaky emphasis on the last word.

“You know what?” Kelly asked immediately. “Forget this,” she added before walking away.

“WELL,” Ken yelled after her, “JUST SO YA KNOW, IT WAS EASY KICKING THAT KAMIKAZE WANNABE’S ASS AT MAYFALL. SO . . . THERE!”

Ken looked down at George.

“Say what? Ooohh.”

The Ambassador Champion looked back up to the retreating Kelly Andrews.

“NOW CAN I GET IN THEM GUTS?!”