StraxStrax
I'm selling these fine leather jackets
From another forum
"After a quick sonorus charm, Harry started his promo, "Quirrell! I'm here to layeth the smacketh down on your candy ass, you turban-wearing jabroni."
"It's too late, brother. I already have the Stone, dude. Now whatcha gonna do when the Voldermaniacs and this 24 inch wand run wild on you, brother?"
"You think I'm afraid of you? Is that what you think?"
"I thin--"
"IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT YOU THINK!"
Quirrell jumped back, in awe of Harry's audacity. How dare this jobber interrupt him. He was the Dark Lord's hand-picked host! He would teach the brat.
"Look, brother, I don't appreciate that disrespect, dude. If you really want this stone, you'll have to beat me for it and no matter how many potions you take or how many times you pray, brother, that'll never happen. Take out your wand, I challenge you to a duel, dude."
All Harry could do was laugh, "A duel? With wands? What are we, faeries? No no no no nooo, jabroni. If you want to fight The Pot, you fight like a real man. In the ring. With hands. No closed-fist punches, of course, we aren't savages."
"Wrestling? Are you challenging me to a wrestling match, brother? You must not know who I am, dude. I've wrestled around the world. I won the first ever G1 Climax in Japan. I'm a five-time AAA champion, dude. I conquered the WWF, I made WCW, I destroyed TNA, brother. I am the greatest wrestler to EVER live."
"Oh, I know exactly who you are, Quirrell. Very accomplished. Won a lot of matches. Won many championships. Impressive. But you weren't raised by The Great One. You weren't raised by The Brahma Bull. You weren't raised by THE most electrifying man in sports entertainment!"
"What? You were raised by The Rock?! THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE, BROTHER! I BURIED HIM!"
"Not deep enough, jabroni. Now are you just gonna stand there jabbering, or are you gonna get in the ring so I can lay the smack down on your candy ass? If you smelllllllllllllll, what The Pot," Harry cocked his eyebrow, "is smoking."
Quirrell couldn't believe it. He fought The Rock in '99. He buried him. Fifteen leg drops in a row. The Rock never wrestled in the main event again. There was no way he could survive that. But this brat had all of The Rock's mannerisms. He wore stupid sunglasses inside, shiny shirts completely unbuttoned. It must be true. 'I guess I'll have to send a message,' he thought.
"Alright, brother, you're on. We'll make this a ladder match, dude."
A few spell casts later and four ladders appeared outside of the ring while the stone floated in the air twenty feet above the center of the squared circle. Quirrell turned to look at Harry, "You ready, brother?"
Harry, already standing in the ring, brought his right hand up and motioned Quirrell closer.
"Just bring it.""
"It's too late, brother. I already have the Stone, dude. Now whatcha gonna do when the Voldermaniacs and this 24 inch wand run wild on you, brother?"
"You think I'm afraid of you? Is that what you think?"
"I thin--"
"IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT YOU THINK!"
Quirrell jumped back, in awe of Harry's audacity. How dare this jobber interrupt him. He was the Dark Lord's hand-picked host! He would teach the brat.
"Look, brother, I don't appreciate that disrespect, dude. If you really want this stone, you'll have to beat me for it and no matter how many potions you take or how many times you pray, brother, that'll never happen. Take out your wand, I challenge you to a duel, dude."
All Harry could do was laugh, "A duel? With wands? What are we, faeries? No no no no nooo, jabroni. If you want to fight The Pot, you fight like a real man. In the ring. With hands. No closed-fist punches, of course, we aren't savages."
"Wrestling? Are you challenging me to a wrestling match, brother? You must not know who I am, dude. I've wrestled around the world. I won the first ever G1 Climax in Japan. I'm a five-time AAA champion, dude. I conquered the WWF, I made WCW, I destroyed TNA, brother. I am the greatest wrestler to EVER live."
"Oh, I know exactly who you are, Quirrell. Very accomplished. Won a lot of matches. Won many championships. Impressive. But you weren't raised by The Great One. You weren't raised by The Brahma Bull. You weren't raised by THE most electrifying man in sports entertainment!"
"What? You were raised by The Rock?! THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE, BROTHER! I BURIED HIM!"
"Not deep enough, jabroni. Now are you just gonna stand there jabbering, or are you gonna get in the ring so I can lay the smack down on your candy ass? If you smelllllllllllllll, what The Pot," Harry cocked his eyebrow, "is smoking."
Quirrell couldn't believe it. He fought The Rock in '99. He buried him. Fifteen leg drops in a row. The Rock never wrestled in the main event again. There was no way he could survive that. But this brat had all of The Rock's mannerisms. He wore stupid sunglasses inside, shiny shirts completely unbuttoned. It must be true. 'I guess I'll have to send a message,' he thought.
"Alright, brother, you're on. We'll make this a ladder match, dude."
A few spell casts later and four ladders appeared outside of the ring while the stone floated in the air twenty feet above the center of the squared circle. Quirrell turned to look at Harry, "You ready, brother?"
Harry, already standing in the ring, brought his right hand up and motioned Quirrell closer.
"Just bring it.""
