Promo?

"Aren't you contractually obligated to do a promo this week, Titus-sama?"

[The question rings out as Titus is running some sweet ass Spread Option on some sucker on NCAA Football `11.]

Titus: What?

Aka: You know, for IWF?

Titus: Didn't I do that?

Aka: No.

Titus: I'm pretty sure I did that already.

Aka: No, you didn't, you were too busy, "Jukin' the shit outta fools" on-line that you haven't gotten off of your giant novelty bean bag chair for a solid week except to use the bathroom.

Titus: Are you sure?

Aka: Hai.

Titus: Really?

Aka: Hai.

Titus: I vaguely recall talkin' shit about a cowboy and whatever the other guy vaguely resembles.

Aka: I believe you were playing against a team called the Cowboys.

Titus: So I haven't done anything for IWF?

Aka: No.

Titus: Well fuck, let's fire up the ol'promo machine.

Aka: Hai.


((((((((( PROMO MACHINE ACTIVAtED))))))))


[The Scumdog of the Universe stands in a descriptive setting.]

Titus: Introductory statement.

[Smirk.]

Titus: Mention upcoming event, and name drop opponents. Snide comment about their sexuality, specifically their fondness for oxen. Make sarcastic remark about their wrestling skill.

[Smirk.]

Titus: Describe untold horror that awaits them, pause for pants-shitting to occur.

[Appropriate pause.]

Titus: Summerize and drop catchphrase.

[Blacklists for some, Tiny American Flags for All.]

Titus: And print.

[Money.]