Predator Press

[LOBO]


"Oh holy crap is this armor itchy" said Jimmy Orlando, standing like a crucified Christ as aides removed his complex armor. "And who the hell was that slob playing The Black Knight this week?" he demands.

"Hayden Christiansen sir", says the guy removing his plastic carapace.

"Well someone tell that hack that it's 'spin, thrust, turn' not 'spin, thrust, compile grocery list'," says Jimmy Orlando. "Had he ever leaned to read, he could plainly see that in the script!"

Taking a glass from a flunky, he drank deeply. Scowling suddenly, spat it over it's deliverer. "What the hell is this?" he growled. "Desani?"

"No you bitch," says Chip, dripping. He smiles reassuringly, tilting his hips. "Would it cheer you up to know that Fritz sent you flowers this morning?"

"Oh that Fritz," said Jimmy, swooning slightly. "I'll bet it's an apology for all that 'sex-change' nonsense."

"Jimmeee," said the handler removing his codpiece, concerned. "You're bleeding".

Jimmy Orlando rolled his eyes. "Well I'm not surprised, being forced to work with no-name incompetent talentless 'acting' swill." He sees a single drop of blood roll down his thigh from a quarter-inch cut. "You can bet this Heyman Christmasman will ... never work ... in ... Vegas ... aga--"

Jimmy Orlando fainted.

Comments

Anonymous said…
Poor Jimmy, getting bested by The Black night, and fainting like a woosey :) tsk tsk tsk

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