*The scene opens zoomed in on a huge banner reading "Strawberry Festival". The camera zooms out and we begin seeing crowds of people taking part in rides, games and all sorts of fun in what seems to be a festival. Don't see any strawberries though, but that's irrelavent. What is important though is the fact that everyone's favorite drunken bastard is there...one half of the NWF Tag Team Champions...Jack Daniels. What in the hell is Jack Daniels doing at a festival? While besides drinking that bottle of Old No.7? Daniels walks around, not having as much fun as some of the people around, but suddenly, something grabs his attention. A crowd of people cheering and yelling attracts Daniels. He walks over where a crowd of people have gathered, to see what the commotion is. It's one of those games, where the guy sits on the plank and falls in the water when the ball thrown hits the bullseye. The guy sitting on the plank is really getting some heat as he's mocking the guy throwing the softballs. The crowd is just dying to see this guy take a dip in the water and be humiliated. Daniels just watches on for a moment. *BELL RINGS* And down the man goes in the water. Daniels smirks as he walks away and begins speaking...*
Jack Daniels: Embarrasment. Everyone suffers from it at one point or 'nother and in different forms. As for Jack Daniels, he has suffered from a bit of embarrasment in his drunken career. But never has he suffered from such embarrasment as he did just two weeks ago when he lost his NWF United States title just one week after he won it. And the cherry on the top of this embarrasment sundae is the fact that Jack Daniels lost it to Alexander Harmston. Now I'm sure ya jackasses feel my pain.
Yeah that was meant to be a knock on ya sorry ass Harmston. Ya see, put yourself in these drunken shoes for a minute. How would ya feel if some rook came outta left field, startin' suckin' the president's dick to get him off...the hook of not being jobbed out, and outta some miracle of luck pulled of the victory of his career and took your United States title on top of it? How would that make ya feel? Like throwing up...pukin'...hurlin'...vomitin'...blowin' chunks? Any of those fit the bill here? Well that's exactly what Jack Daniels did right after our match. And no, it wasn't from the liquor either bitch. It was from the fact that I would have to live with this the rest of my drunken life. It was from the fact that someone other than an Absolute Power member would be holdin' a title of any importance in this fed. But that''s gonna change come Sunday night when Jack Daniels reclaims his US Title and brings it back home to Absolute Power where it fuckin' belongs.
It's bein' built up as the rematch everyone wants to see. Wrestling's past versus wrestling's future. Now don't get 'head of yourself here kid. Yeah, Jack Dnaiels is wrestling's past after ya consider all that he has accomplished. Hell, Jack Daniels is wrestling's present seein' as how he's still on top. And as for ya Harmston, you're not wrestling's past...you're not wrestling's future either. No no...you're wrestling's NUTTIN! Don't think for one single solitary second that this drunken bastard is anywhere near done with this business. And as long as I'm here, I'm gonna be whoopin' ass. Thus makin' Jack Daniels wrestling's future as well. So insiders consider ya to be wrestling's future after the luck ya pulled outta your ass and beat Jack Daniels. It's all Jack Daniels is hearin', and quite frankly, it's makin' my liver hurt. *Mumbling to himself* Alexander Harmston is wrestling's future *end mumbling*. Ya know, now that Jack Dnaiels thinks 'bout it for a moment, he does see a future for ya Harmston. As a matter of fact, Jack Daniels sees a bright future for ya. He sees a future for ya in bein' MY PERSONAL BITCH!
*Daniels takes a swig from his bottle of Old No.7 as he adjusts his tag strap on his shoulder. Suddenly a little kid comes running up to Daniels.*
Kid: 'Scuse me mister, at what game did you win that big, shiny, gold belt?
Jack Daniels: Game? What game? This ain't no game kid. Jack Daniels worked his ass off for this belt.
Kid: Yeah, but at what game did you win it at? I want one.
Jack Daniels: Listen ya little dipshit, ya can't have one of these cuz ya don't fuckin' deserve it. You're just a kid...like Harmston. Ya don't deserve somethin' like this. Ya gotta work your way up and earn it.
*The little kid starts crying and runs off. Daniels continues walking while speaking...*
Jack Daniels: Damn, I hope ya got that cryin' and runnin' off bit down Harmston, cuz that's exactly what you're gonna feel like doin' once Jack Daniels takes your titl...scratch that...MY title back. Ya don't deserve that title. In fact...ya don't deserve anythin' but an ass whoopen and a half courtesy of everyone's drunken hero. Ya don't deserve to be called great until ya earn it. Ya don't deserve to be called a champion until ya earn it. Ya don't deserve to be called a legend until ya FUCKIN' EARN IT! And so far, ya haven't earned jack shit, not in this drunken bastard's book. Do ya have any idea what Jack Daniels had to go through 'fore he could even be considered for legendary status? I've gone toe to toe and beat such greats as Prodigy, Haywood Jublome, Smirtdogg, Thorne Richards, Grady Smith, Hardin' Cash, and the list goes on and on for days. And ya pull one miracle outta your ass and suddenly ya think your the next best thing in this industry? I don't fuckin' think so bitch.
Think 'bout it Harmston. Or would ya rather not have to so ya don't have to face the truth? Ya were given an opportunity in the NWF based on nuttin'. Ya were a nobody that just walked in and since Edwards needed a couple of hobos to fill the roster spots, he figured he would take ya over the agin' Joe Lemon. He rested your fate in your hands when he told ya if ya lost the US Title Gauntlet Match, ya were fired. Low and behold, ya lost. And instead of waiting in line at the unemployent office, ya waited in line in Edward's office to suck his dick. And since ya had such a talent for it, Edwards figured he would keep ya...and keep ya close by placin' ya in his own faction. Now he has the right to fuck ya in the ass whenever he wants, and ya can't do shit 'bout it. And after ya got yourself a US Title match on absolutely no merit what-so-fuckin'-ever, 'cept for the fact that ya pleasure Edwards like no one else can, ya pull off the miracle of all miracles and won. Luck was no lady that night...luck was Edwards that night and ya sucked it all up.
Notice a pattern Harmston? Everythin' ya have done here in the NWF...which ain't much...is all directly related to Edwards. What a fuckin' coincidence. But not Jack Daniels. This drunken bastard does everything on his own. Every title that has been wrapped 'round this drunken waist...every win that is etched in the win column of Jack Daniels...every accolade attached to the name of Jack Daniels, I have done all by my lonesome self. I didn't need anyone in higher places to move my career 'long. Smirt isn't gettin' me nowhere. How in the hell could anyone take Jack Daniels to places he's already been? Jack Daniels is already on top of the wrestling moutain, runnin' the show...controllin' all of ya like little fuckin' puppets. And ya see, it ain't the liquor talkin' or Jack Daniels talkin' up some shit to make ya piss your pants. It's the way it fuckin' is...Jack Daniels wouldn't tell it any other way. Point in case...the claims ya make of the NWF US Title not meanin' a damn thing to ya. That's absolute bullshit. That US Title was the best thing that ever happened to ya, and ya wanna go and say it means nuttin'? Ya just can't admit the fact that you're a materialistic bitch who only cares 'bout himself and Edward's crotch. That title just brought ya up 'nother notch on the so-called wrestlin' ladder. Although ya still have a far way up to go 'fore this drunken bastard is even in sight to ya...ya took a step up. So don't play it off like it means nuttin'...cuz ya know for a damn fact that ya would blow your load all over it if Edward's didn't make ya blow your load all over him every fuckin' day.
Truth hurts...don't it bitch?
Do ya want Jack Daniels to go on? I didn't think so. But bein' the kind drunken bastard that I am...I wouldn't want to dissapoint ya and the rest of the drunken marks out there. Now this drunken bastards notices how ya like to puttin' down the fact that Jack Daniels has Absolute Power. Ya keep insistin' that nuttin' is absolute. Hello...McFly? Ya got Absolut Vodka and absolute zero. But that's besides the point. What Jack Daniels also notices is how ya keep referrin' to your sorry ass as flawless...perfect...without mistake. There's a sayin'...no one in this world is perfect. Newsflash bitch...that means your sorry ass too. But Jack Daniels can prove you're not perfect right here right now. How? Look real close and hard at your television screen. Ya see that big, good lookin', pissed off drunken bastard that's flippin' ya off right now *Daniels flips off the camera*? Good...that's your flawless status is in question Harmston. Ya see, ya might have beat Jack Daniels and took his title in the process and think ya did everythin' flawlessly. Well let me tell ya where ya went wrong Harmston. Ya left this drunken bastard 'live and breathin'. What, ya didn't think Jack Daniels would come back for your ass and his title too? Welcome to reality bitch. Welcome to your worst nightmare or becomin' what ya hate most...an imperfect, hypocrite who can't even defend his title once without chokin'. Welcome to your second servin' of Jack Daniels...one which very few are left standin' afterwards.
*Daniels takes a swig and finds himself in front of the guy sitting on the plank over the water game again. Daniels grabs a ball, looks at the guy sitting on the plank, all dry, happy...just perfect in his eyes. Daniels winds up and then tilts his head a bit. Oh you know what he's thinking. He's just imagining that guy up there is none other than the little perfect bitch himself Alexander Harmston. Daniels grins and releases the softball...BINGO! And in the water Harmston goes. Well, Jack Daniels likes to think it's Harmston. Daniels takes another swig and walks away...*
Jack Daniels: Bring everythin' ya got Harmston. you're brains...you're technical skill...and oh yeah, don't forget my US Title. But no matter what mentality ya bring with ya...no matter all that technical dick suckin' skill ya claim to have, it ain't gonna be 'nuff to go One on One with The Drunk One and his brawlin' tactics...his mental prowess...his power...and most importantly his experience in clutch situations.
Jack Daniels: 2-time NWF United States Champion. That's what you're gonna be hearin' come Monday mornin' when ya wake up with a fuckin' hangover. And ya must admit, it that has a nice ring to it. No no...it's not just a nice ring...but it's...
MUAWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Till then...MOTHERFUCKER!
*Daniels takes another swig from his bottle of Old No.7 as then we go back to black.*