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Play time's over, sit down and shut up. Later on tonight, there's gonna be a match for the tag team titles between the Acolytes and X-Pac & Kane, whatever whatever, it's not important. The fact of the matter is, this Sunday at Summerslam the winner of that match will come face to face with this. And to make sure that my man was right, this week I put him to the test. I had Paul Bearer call out to California - San Fernando Valley to some associates of ours at the Local 81 - Paul said we're gonna need two bikes for a ride in the desert. The guy said 'Brother Paul, now we know that the Dead Man can handle it, but I don't know about the Big Show. It's August, it's 120 degrees in the middle of Death Valley.' He says 'the only things that survive in the desert are the cold-blooded...the snakes and the lizards.' Paul said 'that's all right, and in one of those bikes that you're setting up for us, I want you the Big Show to only have enough gas to get to the middle of the desert and not get back.'
So we're on our way - we get to the middle of Death Valley - 120 degrees, the Big Show's bike runs out of gas. And I pull up next to him and I ask him this question: "Hey do you ever get those really deep gurgley farts? The ones that you can feel right in your hip and pelvis. The really deep ones that make ripples and makes your skin feel hollow? I live for those farts. Not smelling them thats gross. Doing them. Doing them drives me. Everyday I manipulate my sitting positions and my adaptive breathing measures to encapsulate more fart in my intestines. I end the day snug as a bug in a rug tucked in by 73 year old mom from head to toe and I cock my leg up and I arch my lower back and I rumble the head boards. I love those gurgley bastards. I live for them."
