Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Time frame: 2000- 2001 (WWF)
It's all his fault. It's all that son 'a bitch, Kurt Angle's fault, that I am sitting in this jail cell right now, all bruised and in pain. Remind me to kick his Olympic punk ass later and shove them fancy gold medals of his down Mick Foley's throat.
So where did all this hostility towards our Olympic chump and our commissioner, come from? Well I'll tell ya. So during one of our live RAW shows, I was in the back playing a good ol' game of poker against Farooq and Kurt. Angle was moaning and complaining because he was getting his owned and had lost all his money. Hah his face was turning all red, nearly matched his ring attire. I was on a roll; I had easily won five hundred bucks, and had a nice Cuban between my lips. The night was going great, until, I reached for another can of beer, to discover that there was nothing left. Turns out that prissy boy, after lecturing about the evils of alcohol and glorifying milk, had down a few himself.
Well, not a few, but an entire 12-pack. We should have never given him his first brew ski. I should have figured something like this would happen when that greedy SOB said, "this stuff is tasty, when did they start making it?". Eleven cans later, he earned himself an ass whooping courtesy of the APA. Even after that, there was no denying that there were no more beers left. How the hell would I be able to warm up, if I didn't have two more cold one's in my system.
So during my trip back from the bathroom, my eyes landed on beautiful sight. It was a glowing red and white cooler, stocked with man's best drink, beer. I reckoned it was a mirage, but after rubbing my eyes, I realized it wasn't. It was real. Atlas, I could quench my dry throat, so without thinking I took the entire cooler and headed back to the office.
It was then, I realized whose beer I had just taken, The Rattlesnake's. Stone Cold Steve Austin's. Shit. Now Austin is known as a hot tempered, loose cannon, so I'm sure he would not be please to find his beer missing. Drinking happened to also be his favorite past time. He loves beer just as I do, maybe more.
But being an avid beer drinker myself, I figured maybe he would let it slide. I mean I too am a Texan. I reckoned that the holy bonds of Texas and beer, that we are joined by, would be enough to save my hide.
Austin's fury when he found out his cooler was stolen. He began to go around stunning any poor fucker he saw. Apparently, the Rattlesnake's massacre was a little to violent for the King of cheap pops, Commissioner Foley. No Foley decided to do another investigation, after figuring out who ran over Austin. And to unfortunate surprise, he actually figured it out before the show even ended. Apparently, he encountered a pissed off Angle, who was more than pleased to mention mine and Farooq's name. That damn motherfucker.
Well of course, Austin decided to stroll into our office, for some further questioning.
"Bradshaw, you gonna be one sorry son of a bitch in a moment" he states. "But first let me get me a drink." He grabs an unopened can from hand and chugged it all within 6.5 seconds.
"Damn!" muttered Farooq, after witnessing the same thing as I did.
Then Austin smiles and opens the cooler for another brewski. "Looky here fellas, I found myself three cans in here. Ya know what I'm gonna do?"
"What?" we asked.
"Well, I'm fixing to have myself another beer, so I'm gonna have the last Budweiser here. But you guys will have to settle for the other two cans." Stone Cold reaches in and pulls out a red can. "That'll be a Bud or me and two cans of whoopass for you two". Before we could do anything, he had stunned me and Farooq and proceeded to beat the hell out of us.
"Don't worry boys, you can go to church tomorrow and confess to your sins." After taken a sip, he continues. "You've forgotten your commandments haven't you? Well I'll help ya out. 'Thou shall not steal'. Hmmm…How about the eleventh Commandment, 'thou shall not touch Steve Austin's beer, or thou shall be a sorry son of a bitch'. Hah… Austin 3:16 says, I just whooped your ass." And with that the rattlesnake left, beers in hand.
I can't wait to get my hands on the gold medal wearing shitbag. If it weren't for him we would have never ran out of beer. Not only did that brownnosing sack of shit, mention us, he went ahead and called the cops on the stealing. Who the hell would actually take this serious? Angle managed to find two dumb fucks that did.
What the hell has happened to American justice in this country? Yeah, sure, I stole it. That's right; I stole Stone Cold Steve Austin's beer. So what? Compared to what others have done in the World Wrestling Federation, this is nothing. Yet here I am in a jail cell, now tell me where the justice is in that? How is it that I was arrested for stealing some beers, yet the Godfather, has been getting away with his "escort service" for years. Seriously, he comes on TV and says, "Pimping ain't easy", but nobody has arrested him. His hoes have obviously been servicing the right people. What about, Rikishi, that thong-wearing fatty. He ran over Austin back at the Survivor Series '99 in the Rock's car, and was he arrested? Hell No! That's assault, hell, maybe attempted murder, and yet that bastard is walking freely. Damn it.
Damn Angle. Damn Foley. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. Oh boy, I can hardly wait for Smackdown this Thursday!
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