The Great One: Do they really think they can chase us down on those horses of theirs? BAH!
Lorenzo Demarco: Um, Trevor as I look behind us, I think theyíve upgraded!
The Great One takes a quick look behind him and now sees a couple of cars now chasing them. The Great One turns around with a grim look on his face as he presses down on the peddle a bit more and speed up. Lorenzo Demarco shakes his head but canít help with laugh.
Lorenzo Demarco: Guess weíre about to find out if the Mounties always get their man.
The Great One: This is no time for jokes. This is serious business. We could do some time if they catch us. I donít attend on letting that happening.
Lorenzo Demarco: Iíve had niggas whoíve done jail time. They say itís really not as bad as they make it out to be. Well except the rape aspect of course. But as long as you can avoid the rape scenarios youíll do pretty okay.
The Great One: I really donít want to hear about this.
Lorenzo Demarco: Oh shit, youíre worried about being made someoneís bitch!
The Great One: No I am not worried about that!
Lorenzo Demarco: Just remember if we get caught, soap on a rope!
The Great One: SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!
The Great One is really speeding now as heís going eighty miles per hour Lorenzo Demarco leans back in his chair a bit.
The Great One: What are you doing?
Lorenzo Demarco: The only thing I can do in this situation. This is youíre deal, get us out of it.
The Great One: Excuse me! If I recall itís because of your foolish decision to forget your passport that has gotten us in this mess.
Lorenzo Demarco: True, but you couldíve turned around at the border and just canceled this whole adventure. So over all, your decisions has more to do with this situation than my forgetfulness. Choke on those apples. Of course if we get caught and your not lucky you may choke on something else. You seem like the type they go for in prison.
The Great One: I swear to god to Demarco Iím going to hurt you if you bring that subject up again.
Lorenzo Demarco: You know it just occurred to me. These people we are visiting? Are they powerful?
The Great One: They have some power yes.
Lorenzo Demarco: Is it possible they have some connections?
The Great One: Oh they definitely have connections.
Lorenzo Demarco: I highly doubt they didnít give you a contact number. Call their asses, and see if they can get them off of our backs!
The Great One: This truly is a special day. For once you have a good idea!
The Great One pulls out his cell phone with one hand and frantically begins to dial. Luckily he has mastered the art of one hand cell phone mastery that allows him to open, dial, and use all functions of a phone while driving with the other hand. He would be a third level black belt in this art, if such shit existed. He gets on the phone and begins to shout into the phone.
The Great One: Yes I know Iím not suppose to call you unless itís an emergency. Well my accomplice is an idiot and forgot his passport! Whatís that? Yes I went through anyway. What do you mean that makes me an idiot! I AM NEVER AN IDIOT! Look, think you can call them off. TGO#1 is the License Plate. Whatís that? Yes thatís exactly the road weíre on! Okay, yes, good, good. How long? Okay! Thank you!
Lorenzo Demarco: So are they going to do something?
The Great One: They donít have enough connections to call them off. But they do have connections to cause something to happen nearby to draw them away. Lets hope it works!
After a few minutes The Great One looks in his rear view and realizes they are no longer being chased. He gives a sigh of relief and lowers the speed a little bit.
The Great One: Well that was a little exciting.
Lorenzo Demarco: Sure, exciting is the word for it. What distraction did they cause?
The Great One: I didnít care to ask and I donít care enough to know.
Lorenzo Demarco: You know this was kind of a deus ex machina moment wasnít it?
The Great One: I doubt you even known what a deus ex machina is!
Lorenzo Demarco: WHAT! Hey I would like you to know I have a college education. I got a bachelorís in Political Science. When it comes to political theory and stuff like that I could talk circles around your mind expanding on the theories of . . .
Who knows what else Lorenzo said in that ramble. The Great One didnít now, he had already tuned Demarco out. They continue to drive until they finally get to their destination. A magnificent hotel that stood tall. There was even a big ass fountain in front of the building. The Great One and Lorenzo Demarco steps out of the car as The Great One tosses the keys to the valet.
The Great One: Better not be a scratch on that.
The valet swallows nervously as he gets in the car and drives off. Lorenzo Demarco and The Great One begin to walk up the steps to the entrance. Standing before the entrance is several columns. From behind the columns steps out three men all dressed in business suits and sunglasses. They form a line at the top and the one in the middle makes a motion for Demarco and The Great One to stop.
Don Molson: Greetings gentlemen, Iím Don Molson.
Lorenzo Demarco: LIKE THE BEER!
Don Molson: Yes, thatís right, like the beer. Never heard that one before.
The Great One jabs Lorenzo Demarco in his ribs as a way to say shut the hell up.
Don Molson: You know Mr. Kent you should pay more attention. Despite itís fancy reputation, this hotel actually doesnít have valets.
The Great One: Wait, what? Huh! HEY!
The Great One turns around getting ready to give chase only to see the Ďvaletí has already driven off with his car.
Don Molson: Donít worry, once our business is concluded your car will be returned in tact.
Lorenzo Demarco: You know what . . . Since weíre in Canada . .can you do it?
Don Molson: Do what?
Lorenzo Demarco: Make that noise that every authentic Canadian seems to make.
Don Molson: . . . . Eh?
Lorenzo Demarco: YES! HE DID IT!
The man to the right of Don Molson begins to reach into his suit for his gun but Don Molson puts a hand on his shoulder and shakes his head. The act of going for a gun seems to shake Lorenzo Demarco a little bit. The Great One stamps on Demarcoís foot hoping to all hell that would be message enough.
Don Molson: Well gentlemen, you seem like men who do not want to waste time, nor do I. So if youíll follow us to the limo that has been sent to drive us to your next destination. We will begin. The boss canít wait to see you guys.
The Great One: Very well, lets go.
The three men walk past Lorenzo and The Great One who follow in suit. They walk all the way to the end of the parking lot where a limo with a huge maple leaf flag is painted. One of the men open the door and beckon both men to get in. Both men do so as all three men follow suit. The door closes and the limo drives off to take them to the boss.
The final GCWA show is approaching, and Ace decides to put us in one of the biggest piece of shit matches he couldíve come up with. I mean the talents of me and Trevor speak for themselves. Rishelís talent, as much as I canít stand that cum guzzling guttersnipe, speaks for themselves. Then we once have The Lost Soul whoís career seems to be the exact replica of Chevy Chases. Once upon a time his career had promise and he had the talent to pull it off. Now his career has disappointment and his obvious lack of giving a shit makes sure that spiral never ends. Why the fuck does The Lost Soul deserve a title shot against us? Oh I get it Ace. Just the simple fact he betrayed us earns him a title shot. I get it, thatís how you work Ace. So be it.
Rishel and The Lost Soul, together they make up the collective unit of wrestlers NFB can do without. We can do without Rishel not because heís untalented, Iíll be the first to admit heís a top notch wrestler, but just because he didnít have that instinct to do what was necessary to achieve our goals. Whenever shit was about to go down, it was obvious he was hesitant, he was having second thoughts, that he didnít believe it was the right course of action. Such doubts in oneís self just canít be tolerated in a machine like the NFB. As for The Lost Soul, I never wanted that faggot in our ranks. But The Great One assured me heíd make a good addition and I relented. After all it was Trevorís show so let him run it how he sees it. Well The Lost Soul you are pretty much the pro-wrestling equivalent of our current presidential nigga. . . .a sad caricature of Ďwhat couldíve beení. I even hear your up for the Hall of Fame this year. I say thatís fantastic. I fully endorse this move. Cause in my opinion, in my very humble opinion, lets induct your ass in the hall of fame, see all the highlights and accomplishments from your past shown to the world, then maybe just maybe, youíll see what you use to be, look in a mirror see what youíve become and off yourself. Because honestly TLS dying automatically makes people forget about how pathetic youíve become and make them automatically remember how awesome you once were. So kill yourself, and hell even I may shed a tear and go ďTLS use to be so damn goodĒ. Iíll probably just chuckle go home and fuck my girlfriend instead, but it could happen. Nobodyís Fucking Better . . . And when the showís over thatíll still remain a fact.