What you are about to witness is really, really bad writing. It's crass, rank, inappropriately unapologetic satire. This post represents my roleplay for Ultimate Wrestling. This is fictional writing for a fantasy pro wrestling organization. Enjoy, or not!
Inside the arena, on the big screen a cartoon possum laughs as a white van revs up and runs over an armadillo on the highway. The logo on the van reads "Verminator X-Treme! Huck's Pest Control". "Hillbilly Deluxe" by Brooks & Dunn plays, and Huckleberry walks down the ramp through a green cloud of special effects smoke and fire. He's dressed in his exterminator uniform and wearing a pump strapped to his back attached to a hose and wand in his hand.
Huckleberry makes his way down the ramp. Most of the Mexicans in the crowd do not seem impressed by the white trash gringo, and the upper rafters begin to fill with unmentionable chants.
The man with the million peso mullet leans over and grabs a microphone offered to him from outside the ropes. His words are quickly translated into Spanish on the big screen for viewers to easily understand him.
Huckleberry: Ahh, Mehico City. The smell of dead cats and cockroaches is perfume to my nose. This dump of a city is infested with all manner of critters, and I'm the perfect man for the job to clean up this mess.
Mister Mudcock hired me tonight to perform a special job.
Cameras zoom in on the poison pump. It shows a label with Evolution's masked face on it, except it has a red circle with a strike-through line over it. Huckleberry spritzes the entire perimeter of the ring, paying particular attention to the turnbuckle areas.
Huckleberry: For a couple of extra pesos, I'm always happy to help clean the air to keep pests at bay. No matter how infested a pig sty the place might be. No critter, no matter the size, is ever going to frighten this Huckleberry.
More boos.
Huckleberry: Speaking of vermin, have you taken a whiff of Evolution and his partner Meta... Meta... Meta... something... Meta Morphius? Meta Porpoise? Oh, silly me. Metamorpheus.
Wait a darn tootin' minute here. Yer tellin' me he's a butterfly inside that maggot body suit? So that would make him a... Butterfly Man? No... even better... Moth Man! Oh my, you can't make this crap up. No wonder Metamorpheus attracts so many damn flies. He stinks worse than a B movie.
I've known skunks who had more friends than these two in the locker room. Evolution, his catch phrase is so stale, every time he opens his trap, taco trucks within a quarter mile go out of business.
Here's a joke a woman wearing a serape told me down at the ticket lobby. What do you get when you mix a White Russian with a Mexican Coffee? Montezuma's Revenge! Oh yeah, trust me Senorituh's, you don't even wanna touch the motel sheets used by that there caveman without special gloves on. Eugenics is dangerous stuff. Trust me. I watched Jurassic Park.
Moohares of Mehico City, if you wanna progressive man, then look no furhthur. The Excellence of Extermination stands before ye.
Grinning a half-tooth smile, the hillbilly preens and poses. He makes an obscene gesture pinching his own nipples, burping, and blowing kisses to his own ass. The fans start booing and throwing junk into the ring.
Huckleberry: Heed my warning ladies. Stay away from lukadoors sportin' dinosaur onesie pajamas. As we all know, Dinosaurs went extinct a bazillion years ago. This fool calling himself Evolution must have the intellect of a neanderthaw. Take a look for yourselves.
On the large screen an image of Evolution's head is shown, with the body of Fred Flintstone spliced underneath. This gets a laugh from some in the crowd.
Huckleberry: One thing we do know about Evolution... his favorite meal.
Another image on the large screen appears. It shows Scooby Doo impaled on a stick over a campfire.
Huckleberry: Smoked coyote roasting on a spit. Didn't know this was going to be a roast, eh? Yeehaw! This lil' redneck hasn't even begun to warm-up yit.
Check your Chihuahuas kiddies, because the word on Chiclet Street is we have a genuine pooch-eating-monster on the loose.
Evolution, haven't you ever heard of Cup-O-Noodle? Chef Boyardee? Chicken Nuggets? Hell! The microwave was invented before I was born. Welcome to the twenty first century Senor, or should I call you Senior, if you really are older than Betty White. Somebody let me know when Evolution gets here to the ring. Looks like I might be here for a while. Let's just hope I don't go extinct before Evolution learns how to lace his boots.
Huck's theme music plays again. He makes his way back up the ramp as the wrestling event continues its regular scheduled matches of various mid-card talents.
Cover Images Source: Pixabay
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Thank you for reading my original writing. This is a fictional satire, and my roleplay submission for Ultimate Wrestling.
Thank you Ultimate Wrestling for allowing me to use your custom images here.
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