blake639raw
04-06-2004, 11:52 AM
http://www.pwtorch.com/artman/publish/article_7799.shtml
Now that the details of the Flight from Hell have been plastered on the TheSmokingGun.com, the truth can be told. The true story of Brock Lesnar's WWE departure begin aboard the Next Big Aircraft. The date…February 2004...
Brock Lesnar: Thanks, Stephanie. This was a great idea. I know sometimes the boys resent me a bit. Having them take a ride on my new plane will surely make things better. Hopefully it'll be smooth sailing from here on out. I'm going to go and greet my happy passengers.
Scott Hall: Hey yo, Brock-man. Thanks for inviting me for the ride, Chico. I needed to unwind and it's good to catch up with old friends. May I get a bottle of Southern Comfort, please?
Brock: Sure thing, Scott. Glad to see you're having fun. How about you, Big Show? You seem to be having a good time. Thanks for coming.
Big Show: Don't thank me. Thank my new best friend…Tony Stewart!
Brock: (Confused) Uh, Show, that's not Tony Stewart. That's a little doll.
Show: Yup. Tony Stewart! Ladies and gentlemen…Tony Stewart! Put your hands together for…Tony Stewart!
Brock: Right…ok.
Hall: Could I get another bottle of SoCo over here, please?
Lesnar tosses him another bottle and motions to someone to take care of the drinks while he meets and greets. He walks further down the aisle.
Dustin Rhodes: Hey Brock, you have a great plane here.
Brock: Thanks, Dustin.
Dustin: Let me show you my appreciation. (Dustin leans over and licks Brock's cheek) You and me are gonna have sex.
Brock: (Repulsed) Ugh! What the hell is wrong with you? I'm gonna beat the living sh…
Michael Cole: Hey Brock, can you dispose of these needles for me?
Brock: What?! Needles? You? Why did you bring needles on the plane?
Cole: (Seething) Ahhhh! You shut up! Shut your goddamn mouth and throw out my needles, bitch! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!
Cole jumps to his feet, tears off his shirt and begins gnawing on the seat
Brock: Listen here, you little punk….Ric! What are you doing?
Ric Flair walks up to Brock, wearing nothing but a robe. He's jumping up and down in a strange circular pattern.
Ric Flair: Whoooo! Look at this thing! Look at it! I can swing it all the way around. Watch. Like a jump rope. Swing, swing, swing. Whooo! Touch it, Brock. Go on, touch it. You know you wanna ride the fifth Horsemen. Come on. Give it the Brock Lock! The Cobra Clutch! Whoooo!
Hall: Hey yo! Another…hic…bottle of Southern Comfort! Stat!
Brock Flair! What is your issue? Hey! Dustin! Stop grabbing my ass!
Dustin: Sorry, I thought that was my ass.
Brock: That doesn't even make sense.
Hall: Yeehaw! Another SoCo bottle, goddamnit!
Show: (whining and calling from behind) Brock! Brock! Ric Flair is rubbing his privates all over Tony Stewart's face! Stop it, Ric!
Brock: I can't take this anymore!
Dustin: Maybe sex with me will cheer you up.
Brock: No! No, no, no! That's it. I quit. I'm done.
Brock takes a parachute, straps it to his back, and jumps from the emergency exit. From the back of the plane, Stephanie McMahon dials the phone.
Stephanie: (On her cell) Hunter? It's Steph. All done. Yup. He quit. Too easy. As soon as we land, we're gonna set fire to Goldberg's car. Haha. I told you I'd handle it.
Now that the details of the Flight from Hell have been plastered on the TheSmokingGun.com, the truth can be told. The true story of Brock Lesnar's WWE departure begin aboard the Next Big Aircraft. The date…February 2004...
Brock Lesnar: Thanks, Stephanie. This was a great idea. I know sometimes the boys resent me a bit. Having them take a ride on my new plane will surely make things better. Hopefully it'll be smooth sailing from here on out. I'm going to go and greet my happy passengers.
Scott Hall: Hey yo, Brock-man. Thanks for inviting me for the ride, Chico. I needed to unwind and it's good to catch up with old friends. May I get a bottle of Southern Comfort, please?
Brock: Sure thing, Scott. Glad to see you're having fun. How about you, Big Show? You seem to be having a good time. Thanks for coming.
Big Show: Don't thank me. Thank my new best friend…Tony Stewart!
Brock: (Confused) Uh, Show, that's not Tony Stewart. That's a little doll.
Show: Yup. Tony Stewart! Ladies and gentlemen…Tony Stewart! Put your hands together for…Tony Stewart!
Brock: Right…ok.
Hall: Could I get another bottle of SoCo over here, please?
Lesnar tosses him another bottle and motions to someone to take care of the drinks while he meets and greets. He walks further down the aisle.
Dustin Rhodes: Hey Brock, you have a great plane here.
Brock: Thanks, Dustin.
Dustin: Let me show you my appreciation. (Dustin leans over and licks Brock's cheek) You and me are gonna have sex.
Brock: (Repulsed) Ugh! What the hell is wrong with you? I'm gonna beat the living sh…
Michael Cole: Hey Brock, can you dispose of these needles for me?
Brock: What?! Needles? You? Why did you bring needles on the plane?
Cole: (Seething) Ahhhh! You shut up! Shut your goddamn mouth and throw out my needles, bitch! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!
Cole jumps to his feet, tears off his shirt and begins gnawing on the seat
Brock: Listen here, you little punk….Ric! What are you doing?
Ric Flair walks up to Brock, wearing nothing but a robe. He's jumping up and down in a strange circular pattern.
Ric Flair: Whoooo! Look at this thing! Look at it! I can swing it all the way around. Watch. Like a jump rope. Swing, swing, swing. Whooo! Touch it, Brock. Go on, touch it. You know you wanna ride the fifth Horsemen. Come on. Give it the Brock Lock! The Cobra Clutch! Whoooo!
Hall: Hey yo! Another…hic…bottle of Southern Comfort! Stat!
Brock Flair! What is your issue? Hey! Dustin! Stop grabbing my ass!
Dustin: Sorry, I thought that was my ass.
Brock: That doesn't even make sense.
Hall: Yeehaw! Another SoCo bottle, goddamnit!
Show: (whining and calling from behind) Brock! Brock! Ric Flair is rubbing his privates all over Tony Stewart's face! Stop it, Ric!
Brock: I can't take this anymore!
Dustin: Maybe sex with me will cheer you up.
Brock: No! No, no, no! That's it. I quit. I'm done.
Brock takes a parachute, straps it to his back, and jumps from the emergency exit. From the back of the plane, Stephanie McMahon dials the phone.
Stephanie: (On her cell) Hunter? It's Steph. All done. Yup. He quit. Too easy. As soon as we land, we're gonna set fire to Goldberg's car. Haha. I told you I'd handle it.