Posted by NPW on 9/3/2003, 9:39 pm # The motherf[BLEEP!]in' world is a ghetto # [Blinding lights fill the stage, and the NationalTron comes to life. As pyro blasts head skyward, a single phrase synonomous with NPW scrolls across the flickering image of a handsome face with a sideways-smile...] CROWLEY : THINK TANK TURNER UP IN HIS HOUSE! WELCOME TO "THE HOUSE THAT TURNER BUILT", BABY! [As the pyro dies, two figures walk from the back - the first belonging to the two-time NPW champion and current leader of the National Federal Athletic Commission, Think Tank Turner. Turner, dressed dapper as always in a dark suit and tie, looks around the arena with no small satisfaction. Turning once in a slow circle with his arms out, Turner smiles his white teeth towards the crowd - and holds out his arm for the lovely form of Mrs. Sexsmith, who struts out with her metal briefcase under her arm, wearing a black mini-skirt, white top, and black-framed glasses. The two begin their ascent down the ramp as Dre and Ice Cube spit out the "Think Tank Mix" of "Hello".] MASTERS : The leader of the NFAC faction - or what's left of it, if anything - is out here on "Firefight" with his 'Executive Assistant'! What's this all about? This is Killingbeck's time! CROWLEY : Who cares? It's the TANK! Let him TALK! [Turner detatches his arm from Mrs. Sexsmith's, making his way down the ramp. He briefly raises his hand to the cheers of the crowd, and continues towards the ring steps, stepping up the apron with a little spring in his step. Stepping in, he steps on the bottom rope and pulls up the middle, allowing Mrs. Sexsmith to come in.] CROWLEY : Have you ever noticed Turner has the coolest music ever? MASTERS [dryly] : No, I must have missed that. CROWLEY : Next, they're gonna question Tank's credibility, Masters. Mark my words. CROWLEY : They're questioning Tank's credibility, Masters! MASTERS : Will you SHUT UP? [In the ring, Turner and Sexsmith both take a mic, and looks around to the crowd. Mrs. Sexsmith watches him as the music slowly dies down.] THINK TANK TURNER : Only in the bizarre world of professional wrestling will you see someone speaking English to thousands of people in Japan. Thus, if you'll forgive my ignorance of your wonderful language, my Executive Assistant will translate for me. And before I begin, let me say that this is a wonderful country with a rich heritage, and a fantastic city with an equally-fantastic culture, and I m honoured to be back after many years. [To the amazement of NPW fans, Mrs. Sexsmith speaks into the mic, translating Turner's words into Japanese. A moment later, there is an approving roar from the crowd.] CROWLEY : Turner's so polite, Bobbo. A true gentleman warrior. MASTERS [over the din] : Oh, please... Turner's just manipulating the stage here, that's all. TURNER : I won't take up much of your time, because like you people, I believe that the wrestling is the most important aspect of the show, and that's what we're all here to see. [Sexsmith translates.] Wrestling, after all, is why I orchestrated the removal of the Extreme title from the NPW trophy case. But today, I'm not scheduled to be out here - I've been invited. [Turner pulls out a folded piece of paper.] I've recieved a note to appear here at this time, which is odd, because I'm not even on the NPW roster. [As Mrs. Sexsmith translates again, Turner lifts the mic to speak - but a voice comes across the P.A. system...] VOICE OF TJ KILLINGBECK : That never stopped you from being an assjack before, Turner... [As TJ Killingbeck - the self-styled "Cray-Zee From Ayy-Zee" comes out on the stage with mic in hand, the crowds give it up... if only to see the NPW star in his first trip to Japan. Without music of any kind, and with the unsanctioned "Extreme" championship over his shoulder, Killingbeck plods out onto the stage in a LOUDNESS t-shirt and his grey camouflage pants. Waiting for the din to die down, he glares down with slitted eyes at Turner while Tank talks to Mrs. Sexsmith, apparently telling her that it's alright for her to translate for both of them.] TJ KILLINGBECK : HELLO, TANK! Thanks for coming out - see you got my note. Nice to see you again, even if you're blabbering your guts out one more time for the amusement of the sheep. I realize I invited you out here, Tankerino, but for the record : why is it that we all have to bust our asses every week in the ring, and you just come out and take up precious airtime whenever you feel like it? TURNER [flicking off imaginary lint] : Partly it's because of ratings, TJ. Also, I'm sure genetics are involved somehow. - What's on your mind? KILLINGBECK : You're on my mind, jackass, so sit tight and listen up. Here's the thing : you're not on the roster, like you mentioned, you're not management, and your NFAC ain't got any pull in Asia. Which means the Pyramid of Pain is taking place, and the Extreme title's on the line inside the arena. But seeing as how you made the trip anyhow, and get to see NPW the way it was meant to be, with a hardcore edge - I thought you'd like to be the first to see what I've put together around the now-defunct Extreme championship your NFAC ushered out so unceremoniously. TURNER [smiling, as Mrs. Sexsmith translates for both] : Whatever floats your boat, TJ. I'm sure you've been quite busy setting up some impressive display for a title that's gone and forgotten. For the record, it wasn't anything personal : "extreme" wrestling simply isn't wrestling as much as it is streetfighting. My suggestion to you is to simply learn how to lock on an armbar rather than swing a chair, or find yourself a less interesting place in which to swing it. KILLINGBECK : Well, isn't that special - once again, the incomparable Thomas Turner gets his way. That's pretty much always the case, isn't it? TURNER [shrugging] : Well. KILLINGBECK : Yeah. Well guess what, jackass? NPW might be eyeballs-deep in legalities surrounding "extreme" wrestling, and they may have had to pull the title. But I'm keeping that title alive... and so is the WPN. [The lights dim, and the NationalTron comes to life - as the NPW logo blazes onto the screen. But slowly, it begins to change and invert, from "NPW" to ...]
64.231.207.63
# Full of magazines, full clips, and heavy metal #
# When the smoke settle, he's just lookin' for a big yellow #
# In six inch stilletos - Hello... #
# Perculatin', keep em waitin' #
# While you sittin here hatin, yo' b###h is hyperventilatin' #
# Hopin' that he penetratin', you gets natin' #
# 'Cause he never been to Satan, for hardcore administratin' #
# Gangbang affiliatin'; BBC'll have you #
# Wildin' off a zone and a whole half a gallon #
# 911 emergency #
# And you can tell em... #
# It's the Tank, he's hurtin' me #
# And he's a felon... #
# On parole for robbery #
# Ain't no coppin' a plea, ain't no stoppin' a G #
# I'm in the 6 you got to hop in the 3, company monopoly #
# You handle s[BLEEP!]t sloppily, I drop a ki properly #
# Rippin every "Few" poster on your wall off #
# Just 'cause he put away the sawed-off #
# Now he got you sittin' back with a smirk #
# Listenin' with your arms crossed #
# Questionin' the Tank's credibility (What??) #
# Wonderin' if it's still in him to produce wins? Y'all be killin' me #
# As if he need to make mo' - he got a mansion #
# And six cars that are paid fo'! Hello... #
# Came a long way from not givin a f[BLEEP!]k #
# Livin' out of a trunk, to movin' this far up #
# Now he got the whole world starstruck #
# Made a million plus and still don't give a mother[BLEEP!]k #
# Motherf[BLEEP!]ker, he's the Tank - he don't need your respect #
# He don't need to take another title, he don't gotta do s[BLEEP!]t #
# He does it because he wants to not to stay in the game #
# F[BLEEP!]k the fame, I'm still stayin' the same #
# And this the mother[BLEEP!]in' thanks I get? #
# Hello... I started this gangsta s[BLEEP!]t #
# And this the mother[BLEEP!]in' thanks I get? #
# Hello... #
WORLD PAIN NETWORK
