M: I gotta do it.
E: Gotcha... meet me inside.
M: All righty.
The two split in opposite directions and we follow the Mechanic as he walks over to a bench and sits down.
M: Okay, Osiris, is it? Let me ask you one question... what the hell was that?! You call that a promo?! That wasn't a promo! That was "I'm better than you" in like, 1000 different ways! Honestly... my grandma could do better than that, and she's like, 80 years old and hooked up to an oxygen tank!
It is quite obvious you haven't been in the ring for a while, because that sorry excuse for a promo did nothing but make me laugh. I can rhyme too, listen.
The Mechanic clears his throat.
M: They call me the Mechanic, cause I will loosen your bolts. I'll take all your pride, and shove it down your throat. I'll drop you like a bad habit, 'cause you're as pathetic as that little white rabbit. Then when it's all said and done, I'll take my victory with me and have a lot of fun!
See? Now how hard was that, honestly? Anybody can rhyme! The only difference is between anybody's and yours is, well... the fact that they don't say the same thing over and over and over again. I found more entertainment scratching my ass than I did watching that little promo of yours, and what makes it even better is the fact that you're going to be wallowing in self pity in the locker room after I pin you. You went to all that work to make that rhyme, and for what? Absolutely nothing!
It's just too bad I won't be able to see your face in the locker room. I'm sure it will be really pitiful. You'll soon become a manic depressive because you'll get all hyped up about beating somebody, then you'll feel all bad because you got your ass kicked. Oh well. Too bad, so sad, here's a quarter, call someone who cares.
You know what? My brother and I beat the crap out of a couple jobbers in our first match here too. That don't mean anything. Just because you beat a jobber don't mean you still have what it takes to be at the top. But can you tell the difference between where you're at now, and where we're at now? In our second match, we won the BLPW Tag Titles. In your second match... well, you just get a match; and one that you'll lose at that. Yeah, I'd be real proud of that too.
Bottom line, don't get your head stuck too far up your ass yet, or you may find that the only fighting you do will be fighting for air. (Yes, that was a Joe Dirt ripoff.)
The Mechanic stands up and walks into the CD shop. He signals to the Electrician, who grins and takes his place on the bench. He hangs his head for a moment, then looks up with the cheesiest grin you've ever seen in your life.
E: Now, was it just me, or did Mr. Satan make a really, really, really bad Vegeta? Seriously. I mean, Vegeta is ugly enough in the cartoon, but having Satan play him in the movie is just too much. Don't get me wrong, I'm as big a DragonBall Z fan as they come, but if you're going to make a real life movie of it, at least get someone that can act! Satan can't even sell bumps right, let alone make a movie! Add to that the fact that the guy is about as ugly as a penis wrinkle when you've got the turtle effect happening, and you've got yourself one bad actor. I'm sure Satan would like to think of himself as a good actor, but we all know he couldn't be a good movie star if half the world paid him to be.
Not to mention the guys wrestling skills. Hell, I find it hard to believe that Satan can even beat his meat, let alone hurt somebody else! And yes, the pun was intended on that comment. How difficult would it have been to kick out of that pin? Not hard at all, but somehow, someway, this sorry excuse for a pro wrestler pulled it off. It's guys like him that make me wanna quit this business, it really is. If every wrestler in the pro circuit today were say, as totally kick ass as me, then it wouldn't be that big of a deal. But what can you expect when guys like Hugh Morrus and Lance Storm paved the way for jobbers? Nothing. So, once again, I am sent in to deal with this scum. But not a problem, because the most electrified man in sports entertainment today will once again taste victory. It is of utmost importance that this scum-sucking beetle humper know who is somebody, and who is nobody. And it is up to me to show him that.
The Electrician takes his leave of the bench and walks into the CD shop. The Mechanic runs up to him and waves a CD in his face. The words, "Check it out! Fleetwood Mac!" can be heard from the Mechanic as the scene fades to black.