A trip down memory lane
A trip down memory lane
(The scene opens to static before turning black. The scene starts to fade in to the setting of…a RETIREMENT HOME?! This looks familiar to the wrestling marks out there. Suddenly, Jack Daniels comes into the picture as he stands outside the retirement home. HE has a bottle of Old No.7 in hand as he takes a swig. He looks at the facility and then turns to the camera and begins speaking…)
Jack Daniels: This place look familiar to any of ya out there? Now Jack Daniels can’t blame ya if ya don’t remember, but there is at least one person out there that should. Hoffman, remember this place? Well ya should. Nah, neither ya or this drunken bastard have been residence here…yet. But a few other of our rasslin’ buddies have. Some guys that go by the name Granny Smith, SmirtAnus and Haywood Jukillmecuziabsolutelysuck. Startin’ to ring a bell Hoffman. Remember ya and this drunken bastard and Sanders makin’ a visit here? Startin’ to sound a bit more familiar isn’t it Hoffman? The stage was the IWF, and it was Rated X and Amerika’s Most Wanted crossin’ paths each week. So we collectively decided to take some cheap shots at AMW and get a little kick outta it. Yeah, believe it or not, the Hoffer and Jack Daniels were actually seein’ eye to eye. That was one stage of our past history that never sat to well with Jack Daniels. Me and ya…the Hoffer and this drunken bastard workin’ together against common enemies to get ourselves ‘head in the game. And hell, it worked for a while. We were whoopin’ ass and takin’ names. We quickly became known ‘round the globe as Rated X for our unusual style of humor and cheezy lookin’, yet effective tactics. But as quickly as we came together, this relationship went as bitter as that sour mash in this Ol’ No.7. Why? Cuz it obviously wasn’t meant to be. And that was made obvious just a short time after when Hoffman did somethin’ to Jack Daniels that no one else has ever even thought of or attempted to do ‘fore. Which brings this drunken bastard to his stop on this trip down memory lane…
(The scene fades to black and then quickly fades back into focus. Now we see Jack Daniels standing in front of some sort of other facility. As the camera pans the area, we see a rather large sign that reads…)
Jack Daniels: Now Jack Daniels sure as hell knows ya remember this Hoffman. The Betty Ford Clinic. After us reakin’ havoc on the IWF, ya became enraged. Ya became jealous of Jack Daniels cuz he was goin’ places fast, and ya were goin’ nowhere fast holdin’ on to a title that no one inthis world could give two shits ‘bout…the IWF Lightweight Title. Jack Daniels was oh so close to becomin’ the first ever IWF Heavyweight Champion in a match that ya could only dream of bein’ in…a Six pack match for the biggest prize everyone drools over. Instead, ya had to defend a meaningless piece of tin foil that Jack Daniels would wipe his drunken ass with on a daily basis. So what did ya do Hoffman? First ya injected Jack Daniels with an injection that would take away this drunken bastard’s crave for his most important possession in his drunken life…his fuckin’ liquor. But ya didn’t stop there, cuz Jack Daniels was still whoppin’ ass and takin’ names. So one night, ya brought in some jackasses from here…the Betty Ford Clinic. Ya had ‘em tie Jack Daniels up in a straight jacket and take him away to the one place he feared most. And for one fuckin’ month, Jack Daniels was in drunken hell. No rasslin’…no cuttin’ promos…and worst of all, no Ol’ No.7. Those bastards in there tried to brainwash Jack Daniels and make him realize that liquor was the root of all evil. They actually made Jack Daniels believe that he could survive without havin’ a drink every hour on the hour. But Jack Daniels eventually got all that shit that they fed me outta my sober head and returned to his usual drunken form. And it was all thanks to ya Hoffman. No one…and Jack Daniels means NO ONE has ever done somethin’ so cruel…somethin’ so unthinkable to Jack Daniels. And all of this has stemmed from one incident between us. One incident where lives were at stake. One incident that left this rasslin’ world in shock after witnessin’ it. Just what it The Drunk One talkin’ ‘bout? Time for our last and final stop on this trip down drunken memory lane…
(The scene fades out once more, but quickly fades back in to the blue sky. Some clouds are hovering above. As the camera widens it’s shot, we start to see where we actually are. Then the camera cuts to a ground level shot…well not really ground level. Cuz you see, we’re atop a cliff in the Grand Canyon. And there’s Jack Daniels, standing there with his bottle of Old No.7. He takes a swig…a long swig and then begins speaking…)
Jack Daniels: The Grand Fuckin’ Canyon. This is where it all started. This is where the animosity between Jack Daniels and Matt Hoffman began. This was the very site where Jack Daniels had himself a match…a Grand Canyon Match. The stage was the infamous CWA, and it was for the United States title. And of course, Jack Daniels came out the victor after a long…gruelin’… life threatin’ match ‘gainst a then, very underrated Lunatikk Crippler. And after this drunken bastard tokk care of the Crip, he stood atop this cliff as the victor…as king of the mountain. But that didn’t set well with ya, did it Hoffman? It definitely didn’t, cuz just as Jack Daniels was baskin’ in the glory, ‘long came your pathetic, envious ass. And the Hoffer just didn’t stomp away on Jack Daniels…no no. Beatin’ jack Daniels to a bloody pulp would have been to simple for that bastard. Instead, he did the unthinkable. (Daniels slowly walks over to the very edge of the cliff and looks down.) He launched my drunken ass over this very edge of the cliff. He tried to put a finish to this drunken bastard and his drinkin’ ways in a hurry. But ya obviously didn’t get the job done Hoffman, now did ya? That was your very first mistake Hoffman. That was your very first attempt at getting’ rid of this drunken bastard cuz ya knew damn well, that somewhere ‘long the road, this drunken bastard was gonna come ‘long and prevent ya from getting’ to the top. Ya sacrificed this drunken career…this DRUNKEN LIFE…just to save your pathetic career. So let me ask ya this Hoffer…was it worth it. WAS IT FUCKIN’ WORTH IT?! Did it benefit your pathetic ass in any way? No. Did it make ya more loved by the fans? No. Did it get ya the gold that Jack Daniels ended up winnin’ later on in his drunken career? Hell no. But Jack Daniels will tell ya that the only thing that it did get ya was one ass whoopin’, courtesy of The Whole Drunken Show, that is so beyond belief, it’s fuckin’ unexplainable. Ya see, ever since our first little run here right here on the Grand Canyon, ya avoided Jack Daniels any which way ya fuckin’ could. Ya ran…and ran…and ran. But now…now it’s all gonna come back to haunt ya in the worst possible way Hoffman.
Now Jack Daniels has been a forgivin’ bastard throughout his drunken life. But not this time Hoffman. NOT FUCKIN’ THIS TIME! He has watched your chicken smellin’ ass run and run fast for the border. But now, there’s no where to run. There’s no where to hide. Hell, there’s no way from preventin’ Jack Daniels from tearin’ ya a new asshole bigger than this god-forsaken canyon. What are ya gonna do now Hoffer? Are ya gonna call Furman and tell him you’re sick and can’t make it Sunday night? Are ya gonna run for to the airport and buy yourself a one-way ticket to firthest possible place for Jack Daniels to reach ya? Hell, seein’ how ya have run ‘fore, this drunken bastard wouldn’t be the least bit surprised. And that’s why everyone who looks at ya…every fan that witnesses your sorry ass walk into a ring…every person who comes across ya realizes one thing ‘bout ya. No, it ain’t your over whelmin’ stench that makes horse shit smell like an English garden. No, it ain’t your ugly mug or your goofy lookin’ self. What everyone realizes ‘bout ya Hoffman, is that you’re a pussy. And Jack Daniels doesn’t trust anythin’ that bleeds for five days and doesn’t die. That’s why this drunken bastard is callin’ your number in the Pepsi Arena on Sunday night. That’s why Jack Daniels ain’t gonna let some pathetic piece of shit get in his way of eventually winnin’ the Cup Challenge. That’s why, Jack Daniels is gonna make damn sure that he doesn’t only whoop your sorry ass from pillar to fuckin’ post, but make damn sure that the mere thought of ever…EVER fuckin’ with Jack Daniels ‘gain will never cross your mind for the rest of your pathetic life.
(Daniels looks back down the canyon, as does the camera as we get a view of just what Daniels has been through with the Hoffer. The scene fades to black but quickly fades back in to where we first found ourselves…Daniel’s hotel room. The television in his room is showing nothing but static. Suddenly, we hear a door slam in the background. The cameraman turns only to find none other than Jack Daniels in the flesh. Daniels has a bottle of Old No.7 in hand as he looks at the cameraman and begins speaking…)
Jack Daniels: Now didn’t this drunken bastard tell ya that your ass was supposed to be outta here ‘fore Jack Daniels got back?
Cameraman: Uhh…yeah but…
Jack Daniels: But nuttin’.
Jack Daniels: Hell, since ya here Jack Daniels might as well put the nail in Hoffman’s coffin.
(Daniels takes as swig from his bottle of Old No.7 and then continues speaking…)
Jack Daniels: Let Jack Daniels make somethin’ perfectly clear to ya Hoffman right here right now. Come Sunday night, there ain’t gonna be no holdin’ back bitch. Put all the women and children to bed and hide anythin’ not nailed down, cuz once your sorry ass steps in my drunken ring…it’s gonna get fuckin’ ugly. Jack Daniels is gonna have ya wishin’ that your momma took her damn birth control pill that night the mailman caught her off guard. All that we have been through…all of the shit that has gone down between the two of us has been buildin’ up for a long…loong time. And Sunday night…it’s all gonna be released and explode in your fuckin’ face, ‘gain just like the mailman did with your momma. Hoffer, you’re not only gonna have one drunken bastard all over ya, or a size thirteen boot stuck sideways up your ass when it’s all said and done. Oh no, that would be too easy. Ya my friend…ya are gonna have one helluva FUCKIN’ HANGOVER!
And then and only then will ya regret the day that ya heard the name of the man…the myth…the fuckin’ livin’ legend…Jack Daniels.
Till then…MOTHERFUCKER!
(And with that, the scene fades to black…not only on this promo but Hoffman’s career…)