The Player Haters Ball: Take Two Chapter 2: The Induction Hall, a misc. tv shows fanfic

Disclaimer: the mentioned non-character people in this story are just bots of people used on Chappelle's Show, not the actual people. Sorry, I can't use real people in my story unless they're characters, which they're not... yeah, well, bots of people legally count as characters, so please don't report it. Also, I took out and replaced any "offensive" or derogatory words with censors so that everyone can read and enjoy without being offended. This chapter, much like the rest of the story, is used for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter 1: The Induction Hall

And now, just as we begin to take yet another look into the world of the Haters, we are about to see, just for ourselves, just how their world really ticks...

...starting with our co-host, yours truly, Mahalik, from Scary Movie 3.

"Playa hatin'," Mahalik presumed. "You know what it reminds me of? Tastie Wheat. Did an one ever eat Tastie Wheat before?"

Mahalik merely paused, yet started back up again with that same deep voice we all love to hear.

"No?" he continued on. "Neither have I. That makes you wonder about a lot of things. You take chicken for example. Maybe the machines didn't know what to make chicken taste like, which is why chicken tastes like everything."

And then, we take you into the main resort... the Induction Hall, where the Haters can "interact" with one another.

...starting with the one-and-only, Austin Powers.

"If you see this bed a rockin', don't come a knockin' baby, YEAH!" Austin Powers bragged, just while "gettin'" it started.

"Hit it, baby!" he shouted once more.

Oh, Mini-Me "hit it" alright... the stereo. "Let's Get it Started" started to play as Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery, started rockin' the bed... with a woman underneath! The music started to attract other's attention as well...

"(Let's get it started) HWHAT!" Lil Jon's bot bleakly yet typically questioned.

"(Get stupid)OKAY!"

"(Let's get it started in here) HWHAT!"

"(Yeah)YEAH!"

But just as Lil Jon's bot started "breakin' it down," an unsubtle Hater stepped in to join in on all the fun...or was he just there to spoil it for the many? His name... Clayton Bigsby.

"HEY!" Clayton shouted off the top of his lungs. "You jungle monkeys better turn that music DOWN! #!&&3$ make me SICK! Whoogie boogie, #!&&3, whoogie boog..."

Until suddenly, WHACK! Someone came from behind him and just as Clayon Bigsby was finishing talking, someone came over and whacked him in the back of the head with a steel shovel, leaving a large dent in it as Clayon unconsciously fell over... damn, he HAD to be seeing stars after that hit.

It was Mahalik

"Told ya the hood's always got your back!" he encouraged

Someone, apparently, didn't catch all that

"HWHAT?" Lil' Jon's bot shouted in question.

"Told ya the Hood's always got your back!" he repeated himself.

"WHAT?"

"Told ya the Hood's always got your back!"

"WHAT?"

"Told ya the Hood's always got your back!"

"HWHAT?"

""Told ya the Hood's always got your back!"

"HWHAT?"
"Told ya the Hood's always got your back!"

"Yeah, YEAH!"

A few ominous bots started posing over Clayton and slanting their hands sideways in dancing. It was the Wu Tang Clan's bots... AKA the Kung Fu Clan, as the bots, and only the bots, of these people, were called, with the letters "KFC" imprinted onto each of their sides below the shoulders

"Kung Fu Clan ain't nothin' to fuck with!" the three bots recited together.

"Kung Fu Clan ain't nothin' to fuck with!"

So on, so forth...

Suddenly, a few people—or Haters—came from outside the bathroom door, with an attitude unlike any other. Pit Bull, Buc Nasty, Beautiful, and Silky Johnson, the Time Haters themselves.

"Well, well, well," Silky Johnson sought after in dismay. "If it isn't the Hood and their group of mark-ass tricks. Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery? I think I know what the "mystery" is, and that is your "wire's" a bit loose.

He then turned to his next victim, Lil Jon... or at least what looked and acted like him on the outside.

"Oh, and Lil' John... the rapper?" he called after in question. "That's like putting shit in a blender, mixing it on high, and saying it smells good! Vanilla Ice had better rhymes than you. Go back to doing whatever it is you're good at like the Special Olympics!"

"And if it isn't the great Mahalik... or should I say Pillsbury Mo Boy?" Silky flat out insulted. "It's a travesty having you "fit in" with the rest of us Haters. You remind me of your fat ugly Mom."

"Oh, don't you be hatin' on my Momma," Mahalik threatened. "or I'll tie you up, take that cane, and whack you all the way to the Great Wall of China with it, bitch! Oh, and while I'm at it, I'm gonna make you listen to "If You Must" by Del the Funky along the way there, hahahahaha!"

"I've heard plenty of worse songs than that one, chunky butt," Silky remarked in retaliation to him. "Ever hear of the song "I Convinced You to Beat Your Wife on a Daily Basis"? If not, I highly recommend it. You might learn a thing or two."

"Trust me," Mahalik continued. "everyone's had a swing at my ex wife. One managed to hit a home run, hahahahaha!"

"Yeah, well," Silky began to induce. "that one person must have beaten her with an ugly stick, the only one that works."

"Ugly sticks come in all different sizes," Mahalik informed. "even ones smaller than your dick. Bet you've never hit it before in your life, have you?"

"Well, until they come up with cyber insemination, neither will you," Silky discouraged. "You also have to have testicles, another thing I've been told you lack."

"Lacking testicles?" Mahalik inverted in questioning. "Whoever told you that?"

"None other," Silky began to inform. "than your fat Mother."

"You wanna go talkin' about my Momma?" he asked of him.

"That's exactly what I came here to do," Silky presumed. "Nothing beats hatin' on some fat #!&&3$ Mom with two "blow" holes in her vagina."

"Okay," Mahalik responded back. "Bring it, bitch!"

"Very well," Silky resumed talking. "Your Momma's so fat her body has time zones."

"Well, your Momma's so fat her stretch marks spell out her name: Big Bitch," Mahalik insulted, then turning around laughing. "Hahahahaha!"

"Your Momma's so fat," Silky insulted. "she has smaller fat women orbiting her."

"Well, your Momma's so fat," Mahalik replied. "that when I put a roll of quarters in her naval, she'll shit on my laundry."

"Your Momma's so fat," Mahalik downput. "she makes you look skinny."

"Well, not only is your Momma fat," Mahalik inverted. "she's stupid. She's so stupid that she spent 20 minutes staring at the orange juice carton 'cause it said "concentrated," hahahahaha!"

"Your Mother's so fat," Silky carried on. "this suit was made out of her pubic hairs, and there's still plenty more for the rest of us."

"Yeah, well your Momma's so fat," Mahalik sought after. "that she has one big tittie, and one little tittie, and they call that bitch Biggie Smalls, hahahahaha!"

"Like I haven't heard that one before, Balltoe," Silky insisted.

"Yeah," Beautiful said interrupting the conversation. "he heard it from me."

"From you?" Mahalik interpretated. "Damn you ugly. I see better-looking people at Blockbuster every mornin'."

"Quit hassling, son," Silky requested of him. "You've got more whine than California's vineyards."

"Oh really?" Mahalik expressed in angst. "Whacch'ya gonna do about it, son? Huh? Come on. Let's see it. Show me what you've got!"

"Reach for the sky!" Silky Johnson exhaled, pointing a gun straight at Mahalik.

Silky Johnson aimed his pistol at Mahalik and shot it just several feet ahead of him, but just split seconds before it would hit, Agent Smith magically appeared and acquired him just in time to dodge the bullet by swaying his head sideways. He then looks straight at the Haters and co., with an intent to kill.

"Mister Johnson...," Agent Smith called out naming with his usual tone.

"Yes, Johnson," Silky answered him. "Silky Johnson."

Silky emptied his clip at Smith, without further hesitation, with Agent Smith dodging each one with ease. The 4 Haters: Silky, Pitbull, Buc Nasty, and Beautiful, arrange to fight him, with Silky being the first to go up against him. Smith fires three shots upon his approaching Smith, in which Silky imitates Neo by falling backwards towards the ground as the bullets barely flew past him. Agent Smith came over and drew him back up on both feet, and leveled him out the window in shards of broken glass. Agent Smith followed him outside to find that Silky is already back on both feet, and with his cane handy.

"Say hello to my little friend," Silky encouraged.

Silky ran up to Agent Smith, and tried to club him with it, but Smith intercepted the swing and knocked it aside numerous feet, and kicked him off balance with a slight kick to his left heel and then punched him into a commercial van with ease. He threw his weight around so hard that it left a huge dent in the van by the time he collided with it. Silky is down and almost out as Smith comes to his aid, and starts lifting him by the threat with his body pinned to the van. Smith is choking the life out of Silky, but then he appears to be pulling something(s) out of his pants pocket...

Cocaine and a lighter! Silky shoves the cocaine in his mouth and lights it as smoke begins to rise out of his mouth as he is in a caughing myriad. He releases the grip off of Silky as he begins to regain his senses. Meanwhile, Smith is high and is staggering very slowly all over the place. That opened the floodgates...

The remaining Haters joined Silky outside as they are each holding golf clubs and run to Smith alongside Silky and start beating the Holy hell out of Agent Smith with the Security Council of International objects for an entire moment's worth. Silky took his cane and shoved it straight up his ass while the others were simultaneously beating him up with weapons of their own. Then they pick him up and Pitbull puts him in a full nelson while the other 3 take turns taking shots at Smith. Silky, wanting to finish it, had some unsubtle words of conduct for Smith as he wound up for his next big hit.

"Don't fuck with me," Silky insisted vulgarly. "I'm the world's biggest hater, bitch!"

And then he delivered with a devastating kick to the pelvis, which sent him falling down on both knees with both hands placed gently over the spot of the wound, below the belt that is. Silky then whacked him over the head with his club, sending him flat on his back whereas Pit Bull falls belly-first on top of Smith, knocking the wind out of him... that was only the beginning. Well, beginning of the end, but still...

With Smith down and probably out, they proceeded to torture him, first by putting a pair of cutups in his ears, then by smearing his lips with lip gloss, and then drawing a mustache under his nose with a black marker, then using it to scribble all over the rest of his face, save for the forehead, where they spray painted the words, in large black letters: "little bitch," on it.

They then pretty much summed up their job with a few words of advice...

"Cocaine's a hell of a drug," Beautiful sought out, reciting Rick James.

TBC

OCC: So what did you think of the first actual chapter in this story? Funny, hopefully not too offensive? Review and tell me what you think. This is my first attempt at a comedy fic, so of course, I'm open to suggestions.