Post by Jackboot on Jun 20, 2008 15:40:26 GMT -5
Our Friendly Neighboorhood German Giant frantically packs a Criminal Intent sports bag with various items from his storage locker in the depths of his R&D labratory. Some stainless steel cannisters, a bag of siringes, and a few small wooden crates with glass vials packed tight inside. Boot looks over his shoulder suspiciousely as he slams his locker door shut and rushes to the elevator nearby. He steps inside and hits the ground level floor...
Jackboot: Vhat have I got myself into zhis time?
He quickly flips open his cell phone and desprately types in a text message, his big fingers making the simple task require intense focus to complete.
Jackboot: I need you now more than ever buddy!
The elevator comes to a roaring hault as Jackboot plows through the elevator door as soon as he has the chance. He breaks for the front door while reaching into his sports bag producing a handgun. Suddenly he stops dead in his tracks... 2 Black SUV's rip into the parking lot in front of Criminal Intent's Training Facility, a slew of "Men in Black" type agents pour out of the vehicles armed with heavy assault riffles.
Jackboot: Ach Stein Vin Miltre Das Poopen, F&*%ers!
Bullets begin firing into the facility from out front shattereing the plate glass, things go into slow motion...
Jackboot: AAARRRGGGHHH!
He begins front back flipping, dodging the bullets like some scene from "The Matrix" managing to fire off his handgun and hold onto his sports bag simotaneousely.
Director: CUT!!!
Jackboot: VHAT IN ZEE HELL!
Director: Get this damn mess cleaned up! Wheres my Starbucks! And don't you dare switch my regular grind with decaf or i'll have your head!
Jackboot: Zhis is ridiculous!
A horde of Movie crew employees come out of the woodworks as a siren goes off signalling another break from filming. Jackboot is soon met by a small sexy asian assistant who drapes a towel over his shoulder and hands him a Monster Khaos energy drink. The Boot smiles and hands her his busines card then promptly smacks her tight behind before he sits down in a fold out beach chair.
Director: Boot! Baby! I'm sorry, but were gonna run through this one more time... the lighting, timing, I want another take to make sure.
Jackboot: The Boot tires my portly friend, but for you Mr. George Lucas I will do just one more.
George Lucas: Great! That the spirit, I'm gonna make you a legend Booty! A Legend!
Jackboot: Yes, yes... The Boot just wants his cut of revenues, that is all... I'm already a legend.
George scrambles off amidst a sea of servents, beckoning on his every call. A flaming homosexual grip prances over to Jackboot handing him a envelope. He opens it, reads it then stuffs the garbage into the grips mouth and sends him on his way. The Boot begins to steam as his eye begins to twitch.
Jackboot: Travis Beckham! That arschen hole really steams my snausage! Who does he think he is anyways, some former singles champion? What? Triple Threat? What? How about US Freedom? huh? what? I can't hear you?
Grip: Are you alright Mr. Boot?
Jackboot: I'm fine! Leave me zee hell alone... your blocking my sun!
Grip: But we're inside?
Jackboot: I know zhat! Are you mocking me?
Grip: So sorry sir, i wasn't... i mean...
Jackboot: Beat it... Jerk-Off!
George Lucas: Attention! HEY! Act 4, Scene 7... Booty Juice, take 38 will commence in 5 minutes!
Jackboot: For shizzle sake... Travis Beckham!?! The brass is gonna hear about this, throwing a legend like me into the ring with a douche bag like him... What's next week? Nasdaq? Bah.....Ha...HAHAHA! Nasdaq... Murder for Hire! BAH HA HA HA!
The scene fades to a promo for Authenticity.
Jackboot: Vhat have I got myself into zhis time?
He quickly flips open his cell phone and desprately types in a text message, his big fingers making the simple task require intense focus to complete.
Jackboot: I need you now more than ever buddy!
The elevator comes to a roaring hault as Jackboot plows through the elevator door as soon as he has the chance. He breaks for the front door while reaching into his sports bag producing a handgun. Suddenly he stops dead in his tracks... 2 Black SUV's rip into the parking lot in front of Criminal Intent's Training Facility, a slew of "Men in Black" type agents pour out of the vehicles armed with heavy assault riffles.
Jackboot: Ach Stein Vin Miltre Das Poopen, F&*%ers!
Bullets begin firing into the facility from out front shattereing the plate glass, things go into slow motion...
Jackboot: AAARRRGGGHHH!
He begins front back flipping, dodging the bullets like some scene from "The Matrix" managing to fire off his handgun and hold onto his sports bag simotaneousely.
Director: CUT!!!
Jackboot: VHAT IN ZEE HELL!
Director: Get this damn mess cleaned up! Wheres my Starbucks! And don't you dare switch my regular grind with decaf or i'll have your head!
Jackboot: Zhis is ridiculous!
A horde of Movie crew employees come out of the woodworks as a siren goes off signalling another break from filming. Jackboot is soon met by a small sexy asian assistant who drapes a towel over his shoulder and hands him a Monster Khaos energy drink. The Boot smiles and hands her his busines card then promptly smacks her tight behind before he sits down in a fold out beach chair.
Director: Boot! Baby! I'm sorry, but were gonna run through this one more time... the lighting, timing, I want another take to make sure.
Jackboot: The Boot tires my portly friend, but for you Mr. George Lucas I will do just one more.
George Lucas: Great! That the spirit, I'm gonna make you a legend Booty! A Legend!
Jackboot: Yes, yes... The Boot just wants his cut of revenues, that is all... I'm already a legend.
George scrambles off amidst a sea of servents, beckoning on his every call. A flaming homosexual grip prances over to Jackboot handing him a envelope. He opens it, reads it then stuffs the garbage into the grips mouth and sends him on his way. The Boot begins to steam as his eye begins to twitch.
Jackboot: Travis Beckham! That arschen hole really steams my snausage! Who does he think he is anyways, some former singles champion? What? Triple Threat? What? How about US Freedom? huh? what? I can't hear you?
Grip: Are you alright Mr. Boot?
Jackboot: I'm fine! Leave me zee hell alone... your blocking my sun!
Grip: But we're inside?
Jackboot: I know zhat! Are you mocking me?
Grip: So sorry sir, i wasn't... i mean...
Jackboot: Beat it... Jerk-Off!
George Lucas: Attention! HEY! Act 4, Scene 7... Booty Juice, take 38 will commence in 5 minutes!
Jackboot: For shizzle sake... Travis Beckham!?! The brass is gonna hear about this, throwing a legend like me into the ring with a douche bag like him... What's next week? Nasdaq? Bah.....Ha...HAHAHA! Nasdaq... Murder for Hire! BAH HA HA HA!
The scene fades to a promo for Authenticity.
