The camera switches to a shot of the backstage area, where we can see a group of officials, security, and medics surrounding someone. One of the security members turns to the camera and yells..
"Get that camera out of here!!"
The camera pans away, and suddenly jerks towards a door opening, where Ma$$Dinero and Dave King are shown walking out. Dave is dressed in his usual black suit, shirt and tie, and Ma$$ is casually dressed in a pair of denim Versace jeans, a pair of classic Nike Air Max III, and a tee emblazoned with the words "JUCK FAYMANS VERSION OF JABE"
[B]
The Ongoing Adventures Of Ma$$ And Dave[B]
Ma$$ is looking slightly peeved. The camera catches the name on the door, revealing that the pair have just left The Bossmans office.
Ma$$: Dave, is it just me, or does JismMan actually turn into the worlds biggest wanker whenever he's at a Jabe show? Like, everywhere else we go, and talk, he's like my best buddy in the world, but as soon as he puts the captains hat on, he becomes a bigger knob head than S.E.Z ever could be. I can't believe he just called me into his office like I was a fifteen year old kid who just got caught smoking behind the bike shed!
Dave King: It's not just you, Ma$$. Dude becomes a stinky little shit nugget whenever he's talking about JBW. Anyway, yeah, that was embarrassing for all involved. Did you see the way his nostrils were flaring when he was screaming "WHY'D YOU HAVE TO KNOCK OUT POOR LENNY LIGHTNING AGAIN?!?!"?
Ma$$: Haha! Yeah, that gave me a chuckle, Dave. He also nearly broke his hand when he slammed it down on his desk and screamed "AND FOR LOVE OF ALL THINGS HWA TWO POINT OH, WHY'D YOU HAVE TO KEEP ON ACTING LIKE YOU RUN THE PLACE?! THIS SHOW IS MINE AND EDDIES TO RUN HOW WE SEE FIT!"
**side note: JMan never really said HWA TWO POINT OH--the writer of this segment took creative liberties with his recount of what JMan had really said, which was, yep, you guessed it, JayBeeDubbaya!.**
Dave: Yeah, he was proper trying to put on a brave face there. Props to him for not selling it too much, though. He tore the skin off of his knuckle and everything--I'd have hit the deck and screamed in pain after that.
Ma$$: Oh look, speaking of hitting the deck.
Ma$$ and Dave walk past the crowd of security and medics. It is now clear that they were tending to Lenny Lightning. Ma$$ leans forward and quietly says..
"Sorry 'bout that, L2. My fist and I are like two separate entities sometimes, and, well, I guess you must have said something to piss it off. It can be a bit of a sensitive bitch on the best of days."
Suddenly Ma$$ raises his right fist, as if he's about to punch himself. He then grabs his wrist and pretends to struggle against his fist, mockingly placing emphasis on his last statement.
"Whoa, boy!! Easy, tiger!! I didn't mean what I said! You're not a bitch!!"
Dave begins to laugh, and Ma$$ cracks a smile that he tries to stifle, before giving in and releasing a hearty laugh.
"Hahaha, not really, Len, my fist hasn't really got a mind of its own--I punched you in the face because my heel persona demands that I behave like a complete and utter cunt."
Lenny lets out a small groan as Ma$$ and Dave walk off laughing.
Dave: Heh! Dude probably won't be able to eat solids for a while.
Ma$$: Might do him some good; he ain't half putting on a little bit of pudding round the ol' midsection, Dave. Anyway, at least he never got as bad a beating as that blokey looking bird, Athena did last week. She really did have it coming, though, no way I was gonna let her pissing and moaning around here go unpunished. That bitch is like a white version of Malcolm Cage, except with more testosterone and a bigger thing swinging between its legs. Speaking of Maaaalcom, let's go to the ring, Dave. I've got a challenge to respond to.
Ma$$ and Dave continue walking down the corridor leading towards the ring.
Dave: So, like, anyway. What's up with that five on five match you've been booked in tonight? Talk about putting the cat amongst the pigeons!
Ma$$: Dave, me being in that match is like putting a fox in a chicken coop and expecting to eat chicken feed. Am I really expected to fucking team with these guys and not get all "Bad News Brown" on them? Just one of those cunts step out of line and..
Dave: BOOYA!!
Ma$$: Yup. Boo-fucking-Ya. Like, Ma$$ teaming with Tommy "The Witless Wonder" Thunder and expecting us to get along? Yeah, that'll work out well, eh?
Dave: About as well as playing snooker with a length of rope.
Ma$$: Or smoking crack in an attempt to boost your appetite.
Dave: Don't forget about Vain Hooligan X. There's another recipe for disaster.
Ma$$: Yeah, me and him are about as cool as wearing sandals and socks at the beach. Oh well, I'm sure he'll behave himself--I know he's a dim little dingus, but even he ain't thick enough to know he'll catch..
Ma$$ holds up his fist
.. One of them if he acts up.
Dave: Yeah, no doubt he'll behave. His consciousness depends on it!
Ma$$: Oh well, at least that Mike Hawk fella seems alright. I ain't really had anything to say to him, but, man, is he owning that TV title. Dude's like JBW's answer to Will Ferrell or something.
Dave: Alright, Ma$$, let's not mark out too hard.
Ma$$: Carry on with that talk, Dave, and I know something that'll be getting marked. Mike's alright, and, let's face it--anyone would have been a better fucking TV champ than Malcolm freakin' Cage--that guy truly put the transvestite into TV!
Dave: Hahaha, true dat, true dat.
Ma$$: One person that should have my back is everybody's favourite Mexican powerhouse.
Dave: Yeah, The Holy One definitely fights the good fight.
Ma$$: Anyone who takes the fight to ShuriCuntBlade has gotta be alright. Plus, me and him go way back, so, if anything, he knows he'll catch a firm beating if he acts up in that match.
Dave: I hear that. Speaking of the weirdo that is Shuri, you must be excited to get back in the ring with him--you owe that bastard a good hiding.
Ma$$: No doubt abo-
BEEP! BEEP!
Wait a minute I've got a message.
Ma$$ takes out his Samsung Galaxy Nexus, swips his thumb on the screen to unlock it, and reads the message.
Dave: Who is it?
Ma$$: Haha, it's that chick that I found on Badoo, Dave! What a fine piece of MILF that was! Here, read this.
Ma$$ shows Dave the message.
- Ma$$' MILF from Badoo wrote:
- OMG my a**e is still killing me you f**king b*****d! Wen u cumin round 2 c me again you sexXxy c**t?! XxXxX
Dave: Hahaha, you fucking animal!
Ma$$ begins typing out his reply with lighting fast speed. 2.22 seconds later the message has been sent.
- Ma$$Dinero wrote:
- Yeah, I'm a "give her one in da bum and done" kinda guy. So, like, don't expect to see me anytime soon bitch. Lol.
Dave's phone beeps as soon as the message has been sent.
Ma$$: I CC'd you in, bruv.
He pulls out his iPhone5 and reads the message before cracking up laughing.
Dave: Hahaha!!
Ma$$: You're welcome.
Dave: Haha, you prick! Anyway, where was we?
Ma$$: Um, I think we was about to lay into the five wankers I'm gonna be facing tonight, but, awww, too late, look, there's the gorilla position.
Dave: Well, just quickly, before we harass S.E.Z again, let ME say a few things about one of your of your opponents tonight. I just wanna say that TDA is the greatest champion this company has ever known, and if I was management I'd make sure that beast of a wrestler stayed champ for years!
Ma$$: Oooh, sarcasm. Clearly the promos should be left to me in the future. Anyway, let's not kid people into thinking we think that old bastards even got YEARS left in him.
Dave: I'd give him a few months tops. Like, that's being generous.
Ma$$: Yeah, no way that plastic hip is lasting until next Christmas. Right, enough about later. Here we go, bruv. Time to show Cage who he's actually dealing with.
Ma$$ turns to the camera just before he and Dave reach the gorilla position.
Ma$$: OK, consider the fourth wall broken, readers. Once my music hits and I walk through that curtain, the mood is drastically going to change. The fun mood is going to degenerate into something vastly darker, and, ultimately, one hell of a batch of freshly baked offensiveness is going to be served. Read on at your own peril.
Dave slaps Ma$$ on the back, making him turn around.
Dave: Come on, Ma$$, let's do this.
Ma$$: Come we do this.
Ma$$ takes a deep breath, turns back towards the camera and winks, then exhales slowly before entering the gorilla position. Once Ma$$ and Dave are inside, we see S.E.Z. who has his back to them, he presses the button on the mega sized sound mixer, and walks out of the room making sure not to make eye contact.
S.E.Zero: Fuck the pair of you if you think I'm sticking around for more abuse.
Ma$$: Damn right you're leaving, ya fat fuck.
S.E.Z.: Fifty bucks says you're the one that does the job in the main event tonight.
Ma$$: You're on, bitch. Just know that even if you win the bet, Dave is gonna rob you anyway. Come on, Dave. It's time for some cold hard truths.
Ma$$' theme song hits.
[VIDEO][/VIDEO]
Pat: Oh boy, here we go. I can't believe this "wanker" is still here in JBW. I had a twenty on him leaving after two weeks.
Dudley: BREAKING NEWS!!! We're not worthy. I must say that I'm ashamed to admit that even though I never realized it, we've NEVER been worthy.
Pat: The more things change, eh, Duds? New year, new infatuation. You make me sick.
Dudley: Ma$$ is the best thing going today. Accept it, Pat, you know it's true.
Pat: Many moons ago I'd have agreed, but many moons ago you'd have never said that. Guess that's just the face/heel dynamic thing we've got going on here. Gotta go with the flow, right, Duds?
Dudley: Shut up, there he is!
Ma$$ and Dave walk through the JabeCurtain™, and the heat from the fans in attendance rises to fever pitch.
After a few steps, they stop and take in the jeers and boos.
Ma$$ nods his head, as if he approves of the bad vibe his presence has generated, and walks down the ramp, with Dave following him a pace behind. Ma$$' steps are purposeful, and each one increases the sense of anticipation as to just what he is going to say. Once they reach ringside, they walk up the ring steps, with Dave taking the lead. Once on the apron, Dave sits on the middle rope, and holds the top rope up with his shoulder, allowing Ma$$ to enter the ring with a casual step. Once inside, he pulls his diamond encrusted platinum microphone out of his back pocket, ready to begin his promised vitriol laced diatribe. Once Dave has joined his side, Ma$$Dinero begins.
Ma$$: I hope you're all sitting comfortably at home, because, trust me, this story is gonna take a while.
It starts with a falling out. One that occurred during a time that I was raring to go, but, due to my own flesh and blood having what seemed like an early bout of mid-life crisery, and taking off to do things like, uh, I dunno, try to rebuild his life in the real world, I was being held back by having nowhere to fucking wrestle!
Like, it's not like I'm not blacklisted in every eFed out there, and I'm not about to get into the whys and whatnots of that, but, let's just say that it's actually more a case of, I wouldn't actually want to work for the tyrants that run the other companies around here. I dis tru my damnedest during my spell in EyeDubbayaCee, but, let's just say that working against the likes of that faggot who Captain Bear had me feuding with just wasn't my style, and being thrown into surprise matches against Chinese Kung Fu experts to further someone else's career suited me even less. I'm Ma$$Dinero, mother fucker! Heel Ma$$Dinero. That happy go lucky shucky ducky plucky fella that used to roll with VeeThree may have been happy to be laid out like a piece of meat for the three count against any old Tom, Dick, or Harry, but treat me like that now, and I won't be sticking around to find out what your limited little brain can come up with next for me to make me roll my eyes.
Knowing how much my buddy Istvan despised working for EeeeDubbayaEnCeeeDubbaya, I wouldn't have belittled myself by A) offering my services to folk who wouldn't appreciate what I'm all about, and B) subjected myself to reading from a script that even Istvan freaking Gretzky used to think was wrote by a nine year old special ed dunce breed from Timbuktu!
So, clearly -due to my Ma$$Ive ego- I'm weary about who I work for. There's also the fact that myself and whomever happens to be above me in the pecking order don't mix well, which kinda makes me the ultimate undesirable in the land of all things eFedding.
This all being the case, the only place I ever wanted to work was in Jabe, so you can imagine how fucking happy I was when Ka$h sent me a message saying that he was back in the right mindset and was ready to roll... The next message he sent me involved a lot of swear words, and basically telling me that our time in JBW was over. Blood being blood, I blindly followed him, and, lo and behold, he actually created an eFed that shocked the world. That place truly is the best in the world, but, well, it's not Jabe. It's not... Home.
So I went and had me a little look at what the old place looked like under new management. Sort of like looking through the window, just to see what they'd done with the place. Hand on my heart, I honestly thought it was going to be a fantastic experience, and because of the reputation that precedes them, I expected to be phoning Ka$h and rubbing it in at how much better things were under the new regime.
Sadly, that just wasn't the case. I was appalled at what I was seeing. I won't individually point out what appalled me the most, but, overall, all I saw was a mere shadow of the greatness that was Jabe. Let me put it in animal terms...
Back in 0hEleven, Jabe was the king of the jungle. It was the father of all lions, and literally bit the head off of anyone brave enough to be foolish enough to challenge it. Then came OhTwelve, and Jabe became some sort of hibernating bear. Rarely was that badboy seen, but when it was awake, it was still a bad arse mutha fucka that wasn't to be taken lightly.
Flash forward to TwentyThirteen, and Jabe resembles a flea ridden three legged deaf dog that is in need of putting down AyEssAyFuckingPee!
Imagine how pleasantly surprised I was when that stupid fuck JMan contacted me on FaceBook, and basically told me he thought the same as I did, and the only way he imagined this place being brought back to prominence, was having his old buddy Ma$$Dinero back in the company he made famous.
He called me "The Real Saviour".
Someone that truly will make a real difference, and restore that happy feeling he used to get whenever he thought of Jabe.
He was wrong.
I'm here to cause nothing but worries and strife to this cuntbox. I'm here to act like such a prick, people will actually change the channel. Basically, I'm here to do exactly the opposite of what "The PhiladelphianPhucktard" thought I would do.
Which brings me to a certain Malcolm "I Freaking Wish I Was Still Booked By Ka$h" Cage. Or, more accurately, something he said.
He called me a cancer.
Something that, left untreated, will be the death of Jabe.
He was right.
Consider the man you see standing before you all the disease that will destroy this vessel cell by cell until it has finally been put to rest. Consider me the disease that will painfully cause each facet of this company to systematically break down, until it takes its last excruciating breath. Consider me to -quite simply- be the worst thing that could have possibly happened to the whimpering mutt that is this sad and pathetic little wankstain of a company.
I can't STAND what this place has degenerated into, and being the selfish type, I'm going to so something that makes me happy. I'm going to put this son of a bitch down without mercy.
Starting with you, Maaaaalcom. I've never liked you. You have the charisma of a used tampon, and the flare of a solar powered torch.
I accept your challenge for a match at In Justice We Will Bore The Pants Off You, and promise to make you regret the day you decided to take your brave pills and believe that you're anything but light years away from my level, boy. Just because you're on the rise around here, don't think that someone like me will gladly help you achieve your ascension. To me, you're nothing but an ant. To all the other ants around you, you're becoming something special, but to me, you've just wandered a little too far away from the colony, and are just begging for me to bring my god like boot down on top of you.
Failing the boot, I'll bring out the matches and deodorant and flame throw the shit out of you, then continue to do the same to the rest of your kind until there's not an ant left in the hill.
Y'see, I'm the sort of guy who would stop at no depths to get the job done. If I have to cheat to make the ends meet, then so be it. Smack a bitch with a pair of knuckle dusters? So fucking be it. See, my aim is to beat someone up so bad that the next shmuck to step up has that element of doubt in themselves. I want them to know that if they don't bring their a-game, they're not likely to stand a chance. I don't want my opponents half arsing things in that ring--where's the fun in that? Where's the challenge? When you see me going around knocking punks out, for no real reason, I want you to think that I'm not someone to be trusted. When you see me beating on a woman with an enlarged clitoris, I want you to think of me as a despicable bastard that you can't wait to get your hands on. I want you know that I will not pet to go above and beyond to get my point across.
I want you to know, that just when you think you've figured me out, I'm gonna spring a surprise on you that you won't see coming. ..
Like...
THIS!!
BOOYA!
Ma$$ swings his fist, and connects with his best friends jaw with sickening force, instantly knocking him out.
Pat: MY FRIEND WENT TO LONDON AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS BLOOD STAINED T-SHIRT!!
Dudley: TO DAVE!?!?
Ma$$ looks down at his unconscious friend, and shakes his head.
Ma$$: Sorry, bruv, but, I had to prove a point.
Ma$$ turns to the hard camera.
Ma$$: Come In Justice For Brawl, Malcolm, do your best to expect the unexpected.
You're playing with the big boys now.
Go hard, or go the fuck home to your fat mum and cry like the bitch nine Jabsters out of ten already think you are.
Ma$$ puts his mic back in his back pocket, reaches down, and pulls grabs Dave by the collar. He then drags him towards the ropes, and jumps through the middle and top ropes. Once on the floor, he pulls Dave out of the ring, and hoists him over his shoulder.
Ma$$ raises his free hand, and flips the crowd the bird as he walks up the ramp. The ferocious boos only quell once Ma$$ has made his way back through the JabeCurtain.
Home 
J, you can choose what two matches you want and then I'll take the remainder.
