Retribu-Tin
By Ken Kaze ft. Sgt. Henry W. Rowengarter
“Let me find that bastid! I swear in the name of George I’ll kick his ace! MR. ROWING GOLFER! WHERE ARE YOU!?”
The echoes of Ken Kaze are heard as he paces around backstage frantically looking to seek retribution against Sgt. Rowengarter. After his life was threatened by Henry two weeks ago with a knife to his throat, being beaten in the boiler room last week, witnessing the corpse of his best friend, and being assaulted on the stage in the arena earlier tonight, Kaze has decided he has had enough and is going to settle his problems with Henry once and for all.
“Where are you at Mr. Pitcher Has A Big Butt? YOU SUCKED ON THAT MOVIE ROOKIE OF THE YEAR, BY THE WAY!”
Almost as if it were instantly transmitted into his brain, Kaze knew where to find Rowengarter – in his locker room masturbating to Sesame Street pornography of course. He walks down the corridor hallway of the locker room area until he reaches Rowengarter’s door. He opens it up, peaks inside, and much to his surprise…
Rowengarter is laid out, spread eagle on the floor, obviously unconscious. This time, all of the lights seem to work and illuminate the entire room. Kaze, looking straight down at the unconscious body of the Warhead, approaches Henry and squats down, slapping him in the face.
“Man,” says Kaze, astonished, “Someone really took it to this SteveFUCKER~! The fagbox deserved it anyway, for murdering my greatest friend – of – all – tim—” He gasps as he looks up from the unconscious Rowengarter to spot an object perched on a steel chair right above Henry’s head. “OH – MY – GREATNESS! GEOOOOOOOOOOOORGEEE!!!”
Yup. Sitting on the chair, chilling like a villain, pimping without the limping, is none other than the true ladies’ man himself, the Almighty Being that is more elite than the L33TD00D himself… GEORGE THE F’N TRASHCAN! George seems cozy donning his latest apparel – barbwire – and a black top hat situated on top of his lid. Painted on his side is a cocky grin with a cigar sticking out. Kaze quickly opens his arms and embraces his once thought dead friend, but retracts his arms just as quick.
“OOOWW, GEORGE! YOU EFFIN’ PRICKED ME WITH YOUR NEW BLING-BLINGIN’ JACKET! By the way, might I add it looks suave on you?” He stares at George as if he were about to drop to one knee and propose a marriage (fucking faggot). That’s how deep of a connection these two have. This is how much love they possess for each other. It’s a man’s love – for another man. Not faggotry, by all means not faggotry. It is the type of love one man possesses when he cares deeply for another man – AND NOT IN THE HOMO WAY! “So, George, tell me what happened. Tell me everything! I thought I saw your dead corpse last week! That wasn’t you?! Or did you just recreate yourself? And how did you manage to track down Rowing Blatter? Did YOU kick his ace?!”
Kaze was overloading George with a million questions a second; apparently George pointed him toward the eastern corner of the room. Situated in the corner is a steel, circular trashcan that sort of resembles C3PO; the source of the silhouette Henry had spotted earlier. Must’ve been a diversion tactic George conjured. Smart – ass – trashcan.
“Is that your buddy or something? Did you two guys double-team him? You HAVE to tell me everything George!”
Kaze grabs a hold of his now reunited best friend and exits Rowengarter’s locker room, shutting the door behind him. Until he stops. He steps backward back into the locker room and looks back at Henry.
“Hey Henry. You suck, dude. Don’t be mad just because I’m cooler than you. I’M THE KAZERNATOR~! I’m cooler than all of the schoolers… like my name was Ferris Bueller, beeeotch!”
He cracks Henry in the face with George one good time before exiting the locker room for good this time.
“That a way to kick that Marine Corporation employee’s ass, George!”
