NWO B Team Reunites

<body topmargin=0 leftmargin=0 marginheight=0 marginwidth=0> <table cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0 border=0><tr> <td valign="top" colspan=2 height=82 BGCOLOR="#006699" TEXT="#080000"> <div> <FONT SIZE="5" COLOR="#FFFFFF" FACE="Arial" ><B>whacked Out wrestling (wOw)</B></FONT><B>     |     </B><A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="whacked Out wrestling (wOw)"><U><B>home</B></U></A></div> <div>                                                   </div> <div> </div> </td> </tr><tr> <td valign="top" width=210 BGCOLOR="#FFCC66" TEXT="#080000"> <div> <IMG SRC="114c28c0.gif" border=0 width="194" height="140" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> </td> <td valign="top" height=398 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <div> <I>NWO B Team Reunites</I></div> <bR> <div> You wanted it, you got it.. </div> <bR> <div> The NWO B-Team Reunition! </div> <bR> <div> Carson Daly: Boy isn't my face pretty? Yes it sure is. You all can stare at my face for a longer time a little later on, but let's just get these wrestler guys out of the way. Ladies and gentleman, please welcome to our show, the NWO B-TEAM!!! </div> <bR> <div> (Huge amount of applause as Stevie, Vincent, Norton and Horace enter and sit down on the stage, which is similar to the REAL WORLD reunition stages. One seat is notably empty.) </div> <bR> <div> Carson: Welcome to the show guys. </div> <bR> <div> Norton: It's a pleasure to be here with you Carson. Can I ask you a question before we begin? </div> <bR> <div> Carson: Yes...um...your Steve right? </div> <bR> <div> Stevie Ray: No sucka! That's me! Get it straight or I'll slapjack your ass! </div> <bR> <div> Carson: I'm sorry, Steve. </div> <bR> <div> Stevie Ray: STEVIE! STEVIE RAY! Get it straight, or I'll show you what Gaint is! </div> <bR> <div> Carson: What the hell is Gaint? </div> <bR> <div> Vincent: I don't know, but I think he left a good size of it in his pants when Alicia Keyes walked by. </div> <bR> <div> Stevie Ray: YOU BE QUIET OVER THERE OR I'LL WHUP YOUR ASS, SUCKA! </div> <bR> <div> (Carson puts hands up to try to stop all the chaos) </div> <bR> <div> Carson: Okay guys, settle down. Now...um...Scott, what's your question? </div> <bR> <div> Norton: Does the new Backstreet Boys album come out in October and November? </div> <bR> <div> Carson: That'll be November, Scott. </div> <bR> <div> Horace: What do you want that shit for? </div> <bR> <div> Stevie: Yeah, what's up with you and those fruity booties? </div> <bR> <div> Norton: Err...nothing...It's for...um...my cousin, yeah. </div> <bR> <div> Carson: Guys, isn't there supposed to be five of you here? </div> <bR> <div> (Just as he says that, Bryan Adams comes walking out talking on his cell phone) </div> <bR> <div> Adams: Sure, Mr. McMahon, I'll be able to make the RAW tapings that day. What will I be doing again? Jobbing to Mark? Okay, cool, thanks a lot, Mr. McMahon. </div> <bR> <div> Stevie: Fool, you're SUPPOSED TO BE ON TIME! </div> <bR> <div> Adams: Well, unlike you guys, I actually have STUFF TO DO! </div> <bR> <div> Carson: What's your new job, Brian? </div> <bR> <div> Adams: Clark and I, we're going to the WWF. (Takes out joint, starts smoking) </div> <bR> <div> Carson: HEY, YOU CAN'T DO THAT!!! </div> <bR> <div> Adams: I'll do whatever the hell I want, I'm a damn WWF superstar! </div> <bR> <div> Horace: Didn't Brian Christopher get fired for that? </div> <bR> <div> Adams: Hell, no. He got fired because he was a dumbass and Lawler's kid. </div> <bR> <div> Carson: What are the rest of you guys up to now? </div> <bR> <div> Stevie: Well, after I got done with my commentating gig, I've got a highly respectable occupation! </div> <bR> <div> Horace: A cattle rancher! </div> <bR> <div> Stevie: SUCKA, YOU BETTER SHUT UP, FOOL! I COME FROM ONE HUNDRED AND TEN STREET IN HARLEM, SUCKA! (Regains composure)...And, anyway, I'm in a local band, we're recording some new music, playing small clubs. </div> <bR> <div> Carson: We've actually got a clip of that! </div> <bR> <div> Stevie: WHAT?!!!! </div> <bR> <div> (Shows clip of Stevie playing in country western band, complete with banjo, cowboy hat and K-mart jacket) </div> <bR> <div> Stevie (singing horribly off key): My bitch she ran out on me...She said we would never last....So I grabbed my slapjack....and hit the bitch up her ass... </div> <bR> <div> (Stevie looks embarrassed as hell) </div> <bR> <div> Stevie:Err.... </div> <bR> <div> Horace: Ahahhahahahah some street cred there, g. </div> <bR> <div> Stevie: Shut up, Horace!!!!! </div> <bR> <div> Horace: The name is H-Bomb, sucka! I come from the street! </div> <bR> <div> Stevie: Fool, which street did you come from?! </div> <bR> <div> Horace: Sucka, I came from Sesame Street, where I see some rough times. They be poor where I come from! One time Ernie had to sell his rubber duckie to buy Bert a container for his paper clip collection. </div> <bR> <div> Stevie (Looking very annoyed): Damn sucka... </div> <bR> <div> Norton: Those are fighting words, Horace, why don't you hit him with your samoan drop?! </div> <bR> <div> Horace: Fool, it's an H-Bomb Atomic Demolisher. </div> <bR> <div> Norton: It's a samoan drop! </div> <bR> <div> (Adams' cell phone rings) </div> <bR> <div> Adams: Hello...Mr. McMahon, sir, what's up? Oh? Just call you Shane-O-Mac? Well I'm honored, Shane. Yes sir, your father called and I will be there for RAW. </div> <bR> <div> Stevie: Turn that shit off! </div> <bR> <div> Adams: Hey, Stevie, Shane says Booker says hi. </div> <bR> <div> Stevie: Yeah...grumble...he gets the title while I get stuck with these suckas... </div> <bR> <div> Vincent: Who you calling a sucka chump? </div> <bR> <div> Stevie: Oh no, not you, not the man who OPENS MORE CARDS THAN A RICH KID AT HIS BIRTHDAY PARTY, SUCKA!!! </div> <bR> <div> Vincent: So I was in a few squash matches here and there... </div> <bR> <div> Horace: And just what the hell is your name anyway? Virgil? Vincent? Shane? </div> <bR> <div> Vincent: Umm...I actually forgot that too! </div> <bR> <div> Carson: Hey guys, you know while you all bitched and moaned, I managed to sneak off for a beer, take a leak and screw three teenybopper chicks? </div> <bR> <div> Stevie: SHUT UP SUCKA! It's SLAPJACK TIME! </div> <bR> <div> (Reaches in pants for slapjack) </div> <bR> <div> Stevie: Awww shit, I left it on the table...hey Horace, call your uncle! </div> <bR> <div> Horace (grabs Adams' cell phone): Hey, he'll call you back. (hangs up) </div> <bR> <div> Adams: Aw shit, I was talking to The Undertaker! I hope you know you just killed my push, ass! </div> <bR> <div> Horace (ignoring Adams): Hi...Uncle Terry...I'm sorry...Uncle Hulk...Can you come down to the MTV Studios now? </div> <bR> <div> Carson (looking worried): Aw shit! Not again! (Runs off) </div> <bR> <div> Adams: Well, I've had enough of you guys, I'm a big WWF superstar now! Gotta do lunch with Dwayne, Steve and Mark! Ciao! </div> <bR> <div> (Adams leaves) </div> <bR> <div> Stevie: Well, looks like just us four... </div> <bR> <div> (Hogan shows up) </div> <bR> <div> Hogan: WHERE'D THAT PUNK CARSON DALY GO, BRUTHA?! </div> <bR> <div> Horace: That-a-way, Unkie! </div> <bR> <div> Hogan: Hey, Horace, dude, I got tickets for a Texas Rodeo. Wanna go with the Hulkster? </div> <bR> <div> Horace: Sure, unkie! </div> <bR> <div> (Gets up to leave) </div> <bR> <div> Stevie (real happily): CAN I COME TOO?! (closes mouth suddenly) I mean, yeah, you go sucka! </div> <bR> <div> Norton: Yeah, you go to your little Texas Rodeo! </div> <bR> <div> Stevie: Aw, Shut up! </div> <bR> <div> (Horace and Hogan leave) </div> <bR> <div> Virgil/Vincent/Shane/whoever: Now what? Wait...I know! Let's go get peanuts!!!! </div> <bR> <div> Stevie: Honey roasted sucka? </div> <bR> <div> Virgil: No. Regular. </div> <bR> <div> Stevie: Beggars can't be choosers, fool, I'll go. You up Norton? </div> <bR> <div> Norton: Sorry, gotta get to Japan... </div> <bR> <div> (Grabs bag of 31 World Title belts) </div> <bR> <div> Norton: I got lots of matches to do tonight! Bye everyone! </div> <bR> <div> (Leaves) </div> <bR> <div> Stevie: Well, let's go get peanuts, sucka. </div> <bR> <div> Virgil: You know, Stevie, I always thought you the better of Harlem Heat. </div> <bR> <div> Stevie: Thanks, sucka. </div> <bR> <div> Virgil: But then again, anyone's better than that Ahmed guy... </div> <bR> <div> Stevie: Shut up, sucka. </div> <bR> <bR> <div> THE END </div> <bR> <bR> </td> </tr></table></body>