XWF∞

Jim Cornette and an unknown interviewer are standing in back waiting for their cue to go live.

Jim Cornette:  Well where the heck is ol' Fingerfuck anyway?  Busy wrestling some blowup doll?

It was a valid question considering nobody had seen or heard from Jim's client in some time.  How was Kenny Olivier coping with his debut loss two weeks ago?  How was he preparing for his battle with Morbid Angel?  The interviewer seems uncomfortable as Jim starts to dial it up a notch or two.

Jim Cornette:  I already had to cut his whole promo for him last time, this time I expect some sort of effort from that toe tucking, jazz hands'ing, Japanese schoolgirl ogling diaper load! 

Interviewer:  Sir, it's ok, if you'd like I can try to get someone to call him and see where he is.

Jim gets red in the face.

Jim Cornette:  Do you think I don't have Fingerbang's phone number?  I'm not trying to have a phone conversation with him; I'm trying to get him to show up for work and at least pretend like he's a professional wrestler instead of some outlaw mudshow shitshow extravaganza!  Did you see what I had to put up with last week?  Did you see what a joke that man is, if you can even call him a man?

Jim cups his hands around his mouth and screams in the interviewer's face.

Jim Cornette:  He lost to a fuckin' girl!!!!

The interviewer is startled by Jim's yelling and stumbles back a few steps, bumping into someone.  The interviewer realizes who it is... 

Interviewer:  Kenny!  You're here!

The excitement from the interviewer quickly waned as Kenny just looked right past him with giant eyes the size of silver dollars and pupils so dilated you could almost get sucked into the blackness.  Kenny's twitching and gyrating a little bit as he looks around, but looks at nothing.  It's like he's looking into another world and he's in awe of all he sees that we don't see.  Kenny's eyes seem to lock onto something in the far distance... and he's off!  He slow motion revs up and then sprints down the hallway at an incredible speed, disappearing from sight in no time flat.

The interviewer just watches, confused.  Jim Cornette just watches, pissed off to high hell and ready to murder.

Jim Cornette:  Well if he's not coming, I'm leaving!

Jim walks out, goes to his rental car, and drives away.

Meanwhile, somewhere in a dark hallway we catch up with Kenny Olivier who is down on all fours snorting what appears to be rat poison up from the floor.  He takes a few bumps before he takes a few bumps.  So in other words, he snorts more rat poison and then falls... then falls again...  and again.  Taking bumps and then bumps.

Kenny:  WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-EEEEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!  Brand spank me new and call me Suzy Q.  I got the scoop for you.  Thank you, and goodnight!

Kenny takes a bow and absorbs the applause he hears in his head.  This guy is ALL doped up.  He walks over to a utility closet and opens it, reaching in and immediately finding Jim Cornette.  Kenny pulls Cornette out of the closet and gives him a hug?!  Jim is happy to accept the hug and gives us a big smile!

Jim Cornette:  I love this guy!

Jim smiles and points at Kenny while Kenny attempts a kip-up from a standing position and fails, ending up on his head.  Jim is right there offering his applause and supporting everything Kenny does, all the way up until Kenny starts trying to stick his own finger down his throat and make himself throw up.

Jim Cornette:  Go Kenny go!  We love you!

Jim waves his Japanese schoolgirl hands in the air frantically and then begins doing jazz hands while Kenny vomits rainbow angeldust and fairydust.  They transition into a magnificent display of choreographed dance moves as Kenny shakes his head back and forth as violently as possible to try and get the loose vomit chunks off of his face and lips.  It works, but then Jim's gone!

Kenny:  Alllllllll right who took the remote control?  Daddy's got a game to watch! 

He starts clicking his fingers as if he's holding a remote in his hand but since he's not, nothing actually happens. 

Kenny:  Must have been a fignewton of my imagination.  I don't fox trot like that.

Kenny doesn't have a clue what he's saying so he shrugs it off and just walks down the hallway until he runs into that unknown interviewer from earlier.

Interviewer:  Kenny!  Kenny!  We lost Jim Cornette.

Kenny's giant ass bloodshot eyes get wide(r).

Kenny:  Jim's d-  ...he's de-  Jim's DEAD?!?!?

Interviewer:  No no, nothing like that.  I just mean he left already.

Kenny:  Who's playing Santa this year?

Interviewer:  I'm sorry what?

Kenny:  I want to be the one to play Santa so I can ride the train.

Kenny's eyes can't focus on anything and he's starting to wobble forward and back.  The interviewer isn't sure what to make of this.

Interviewer:  What's wrong?  Are you sick?

Kenny reaches his hand forward and places it on the interviewer's shoulder, possibly to help himself balance as he searches for the words to say.

Kenny:  Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, fuck off?

Interviewer:  I'm worried about you, Kenny.  Are you on drugs right now?  Do you need a doctor?

Kenny:  Ummmmmmmmmmmmmm, fuck off?

The interviewer gets a little discouraged.  He figures 'screw it' and just tries to land his interview right then and there, signalling toward the cameraman.

Interviewer:  And we're here with Kenny Olivier.  Tell me, Kenny, how does it feel to- 

Kenny:  Fuck off?

Kenny had cut him off just in time.  The interviewer just stops talking as Kenny places ha finger over the interviewer's lips.

Kenny:  Ssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh............  You hear that?

He looks around in different directions rapidly, while keeping his whole hand over the interviewer's mouth now.

Kenny:  I think I hear it!  I think I hear it!

He takes his hand off the interviewer's mouth and looks at him as if you expect that he hears "it" as well.

Interviewer:  I don't hear any-

Kenny:  FUCK OFF!!!!!  (it was super high pitched)

SLAP

Kenny smacks the interviewer in the face to sober himself up but it's not working.

SLAP SLAP

Interviewer:  Ahhh! What are you doing man?!

Kenny:  I'm too flippin' stoned, I'm too geeked, just tweaking the hell out.

SLAP

Interviewer:  Why are you slapping me?

Kenny:  Cuz I gotta sober up fast!

SLAP
SLAP
SLAP

Kenny:  And cuz I'm gonna take Morbid Angel to heights he's never been before. 

SLAP

Kenny:  I saw his steroid trick backfire on him last week, so guess what!  This week I'm going to show him my own little trick.  Don't bring a steroid needle to a video game tournament you roided up herd of cattle.  Yeah that's what I see what I look at you, is just a big herd of cattle waiting to be given cocaine and viagra at the same time.  Then what?  Well that's the problem my pretty little Angel, you fuck yourself real good AND YOU-

Points at the interviewer.

Kenny:  Fuck off!

Kenny makes the gun gesture with both of his hands and starts popping off shots in the air rapid fire fuck offs.

Kenny:  Fuckoff fuckoff fuckoff fuckoff fuckofffuckofffuckofffuckofffuckoff pop pop pop bang bang bang BANG!

Fingers pointing in every direction.   Happy feet dancing and prancing. 

Kenny:  Morbid Angel I heard something about you and I'm going to use it to my advantage this Frenzy.  Angel I heard you got it bad, man.  I heard you've got it real bad.

Interviewer:  What does he have?

Kenny:  THIS!

Kenny whips a baggie of white powder from his pocket and opens it, shoving his face into the powder and inhaling it.  He starts to lose control of his faculties, then transitions that into picking the interviewer up into The One Winged Fairy!  He dropped him right on his head!  He's fucking dead!  Kenny killed him!

Elsewhere.

When Jim Cornette gets a phone call about his client killing someone, he just bursts out in laughter.

Jim Cornette:  Aaaaaaa haa haa haaaa haaaa haaaa ha!  You mean to tell me you expect me to believe ol' TwinkleToes McFingerbang could kill any living man?

He takes a deep breath so he can properly follow that up.

Jim Cornette:  I DON'T FUCKIN' THINK SO!  They must've meant killed like hurt bad but even that's a stretch with this powderface pansycase they got me managing.  He probably snorted some of the wrong pixy dust and spazzed the fuck out on the poor guy!  Probably gave him a real nasty hang nail or something.  That Killer Kenny Olivier alright, ha-HA!  Killer my pimply white ass!  He'll be lucky if Morbid Angel doesn't stretch him six ways from Sunday before kicking him in his pink little taint!  Boy do I hate that frolicking fuckwit client of mine!

Jim throws his phone.  For those keeping track, that's two phones down while working for the XWF.