J.D. Kool

Jobber, Jobberland and other annoying bonus traxxx

{{{What the hell is this? Well, I didn't want to bring TV back to EWS when it briefly reopened, so I did this character. urine is played by J and DJ Cool plays himself in certain posts here. Enjoy!}}}

[We open in Jobber Land. It is a magical place home to jobbers new and old. Why looky here. It's the originator, Villano I! Look at the fat bastard walk by in his luchydore getup! Didn't know spandex spanded that much. Bleh!

We are out on the street. The sun is shining brightly. The street? It's empty. For you see, there are no cars in Jobber Land. Well, at least none you can drive anymore. For Jobber Land is a poor town. And J.D. Kool is one of the poorest of them all. J.D. today is decked out in a red silk robe, black pajama bottoms and white bunny slippers. Yes, reread that if you don't believe it.

RAT A TAT TAT!!

Gun shots. Woo hoo! J.D. jumps up and down, extending his arms way into the air. Well, at least as far as he can.

Somebody got shot! Maybe they have some money in their wallet? J.D. starts running around in circles and then falls to the ground. He spins around in a circle ala the Three Stooges and hits a SPINARONI to his feet. That's spinaroni, not spinarooni. You see, J.D. didn't grow up in the ghetto with Booker T so he pronounces the word correctly. Can ya dig it sucka?

Jobber Land looks an awful lot like a ghetto. J.D. may not have grown up there, but he sure as hell is there now! He gets to steppin and he walks down the deserted street, which is crowded by decrepit buildings with boarded up windows, rotted wood and paint peeling off.]

Voice (from somewhere): Hey keeed, theece is no place for a keeed.

J.D.: I'm not a kid. I'm 25!

Voice: You poor barrstard. Got any rocks?

J.D.: Maybe....I mean...no.

Voice: Got aneee acid? (The man comes into view. He looks at the camera.) That's a nice lookeeng camera. (Spanish gentlemen. Long greasy black hair. White wifebeater under a Dallas Cowboys jacket. Ripped jeans. In case you care. He also has a devil's goatee. He looks EEEEEEEEVVVVILLLLLL.)

J.D.: Don't be lookin' at my camera. I have to finish a promo. I'm setting the scene. It hurts my fingers.

Devil-man: True dat. Theece bizz is tuff.

J.D.: You a jobber too?

Devil-man: I used to be in theece fed called...Metal Edge Wrestling....(he puts a hand to his face, as if he's crying). It was horrible (he says, his voice cracking. And then, he recovers.) But I'm over it now.

J.D.: And I care why? Dude, I've only got about five minutes here. WTF?

Devil-man: Well, can I come back and steeeel your camera then?

J.D.: Alright.

[Devil-man walks somewhere else.]

J.D.: President Cool. You thought you could run from me, huh? You can't deal with this! (he says while running his fingers up and down his fried-egg like chest and no-pack abs). Are you serious? You ain't as Kool as me. I'm a man of few dreams. But I have one. I want to job and job painfully. I want to lose. I want to get my ass blown up, thrown thru glass windows, my face shredded by barbed wire, thrown off stages into shark tanks where the sharks have eaten pirahna so when the shark eats me I then get eaten by the pirahna in the shark's stomach, I want dynamite stuck up my brown eye, my limbs broken, I want to be thrown from moving cars into minefields, whatever you need. But most importantly, I want to lose. Nobody can lose as good as me. Because I can take so much abuse.

J.D.: But now I hear you've booked yourself into an office match with your VPs or something. 2 on 1. Prez, you sick freak, you can't beat both of them alone. So here's my challenge to you. You accepted a fight with me. Here's what I propose to you. I'm offering you J.D. Kool, 5-feet-4, 150 pounds, 3 percent body fat! You and me, team up, and kick four butt cheeks, Avalanche's and Curtiseseseses (he looks confused by the language, can never get straight possession with an S at the end of a name). Those two guys! (he says shaking his fist at the camera). Then, whatever is left of us, we fight in a Wooga Death Match!

J.D.: Ah damn it, somebody probably got to that dead body by now. (Random thought alert!) Frigging President Cool and EWS. You just took more money out of my pocket! You won't pay me. I got skills yo! Mad skillz.

[J.D. suddenly tries to do a cartwheel. As his legs swing up in the air, he loses his balance, and his skinny little arms can't support the weight. He crashes down on his head, then neck and finally his back and legs crash to the street with a dull splat.]

J.D.: Cool, if you got the guts (he says, breathing heavily, still flat on his back), you and me. Wooga death match. Man who makes his opponent say wooga three times in a row wins. I win, I get a contract with EWS. If you win, I go away (he says crossing his fingers in full view of the camera). I never waste your time with another bad, short promo. So Kool off...or I'll Kool you off myself! How's THAT for a catchphrase thingy?

[J.D. turns over. He clears his throat. Must be all that talking. J.D. begins flexings his fingers for some odd reason. As if he's been typing for too long and he's not used to it. Hmmmfff. Anywho....]

J.D.: Oh yeah, by the way....Avalanche, Curtis, YOU GUYS SUCK! (He puts his thumbs against his temples and wiggles all his fingers at the camera.) And so does President Cool! And did I mention, you're all GAY HOMESEXUALS!

[Suddenly the camera is pulled away from generic cameraman and we get a view of the street bouncing up and down, up and down, up and down, as if someone is running really fast. See what you get for getting into gay material. Karma's a bastard sometimes.]

J.D. At least give me the tape so I can send it in!

[The camera becomes still. We stare down at the devil-man's feet as we hear a rattling, as if he's trying to get a tape out.

On the screen flashes this thing here:

MORAL ALERT: A criminal with a heart. See? You met him today. There will be no stereotyping of criminals here. Criminals have hearts. END IRRELEVANT MORAL OF STORY. He's wearing sneakers in case you care. I hear those are good for sneaking....Suddenly, there is static.

We are only left to wonder....what happened to that camera? Was it stripped down for parts? Was it sold to a porno producer? We'll never know.]

I'm Too Kool

[Place: a karaoke bar. The man nobody fears, a.k.a. J.D. Kool, is onstage, mic in hand and he's ready to kick out old school style. He's got a piece of paper in the hand not holding the mic. Guess which is in which hand. Hint: J.D. is left-handed. Bet THAT confused you.

Remember the band Right Said Fred? Huh? That song "I'm Too Sexy." You know the one. The bald guy. I'm a model, you know what I mean? And I do my little turn on the cat walk? I'd use more, but I don't have express written permission to put the lyrics in here. But anyway. J.D. Kool has spent a lot of time....OK, an hour....OK a half hour....fine, 10 minutes, reworking the classic. If you've got the original at home, crank it up and sing along with the new lyrics.

Music begins playing. Enjoy.]

J.D.: Oops wait. Stop the music.

[Music stops.]

Before I begin this song, I'd like to dedicate this one to the ladies. This song is going out to everyone in the Extreme Wrestling Scene. All I wanna do is get on pay-per-view. Book me you bastards! Thanks. Now we may begin.

[Music starts again.]

**Singing**
{Prez Cool's got no balls, he's got no balls
Cool's going to face me

I'm too kool for EWS, too kool for EWS
So kool it hurts
And I'm too kool for Prezzy Cool, too kool for Prezzy Cool
He runs from me
And I'm too kool for your PPV, too kool for your PPV
No way I will be winning!

I'm a jobber, you know what I mean
And I do my little job on the canvas
Yeah, on the canvas, on the canvas, yeah
I do my little job on the canvas

I'm too kool for Avalanche, too Kool for VP Curtis
Too kool I"LL KILL YOU ALL!
And I'm too kool for Korruption
Too kool for Studnuts, I'm gonna lose the main event!

I'm a jobber, you know what I mean
And I do my little job on the canvas
Yeah, on the canvas, on the canvas, yeah
They kick my little touche on the canvas

I'm too kool for my, too kool for my, too kool for my

'Cause I'm a jobber, you know what I mean
And I do my little job on the canvas
Yeah, on the canvas, yeah, on the canvas, yeah
They kick my little touche on the canvas

Cool, you're a lot like my cat, a lot like my cat
He's a pussy, a pussy...like you!!!
I'm gonna kick your ass, kick your ass
Whenever I face you!

And I'm too kool for this song}
**End singing**

[I hope you enjoyed the spectacle of J.D. dancing as he performed. If you want to call that random limb movement and shuffling dancing. Anyway....J.D.'s got big goals. He wants to team up with DJ Cool and take out Avalanche and Curtis. He then wants to fight DJ Cool to once and for all settle who is the koolest person of all time. And then if he wins, he can go on and get his ass blown up multiple times in the main event. Kool can make Cool say wooga three times in the WOOGA DEATH MATCH. He has to. He's not used to winning, but this is one thing he has to do. It's against his morals, but just this once, he will not lay down or wooga out.]

J.D.: Thank you. I am the sensation sweeping the nation. The object of your girlfriend's masturbation. And yes I ripped off the catchphrase from somebody else. Can't remember who right now.

[Boos rain down on the short one. Dark.]

This RP insults everyone and all e-wrestlers in general
Posted by J.D. Kool on 12/10/2001, 7:11 pm

[An empty arena. The invisible people pop like crazy as JD Kool walks to the invisible ring.]

JD: I should be in the main event! Book me! Book me! Oh yeah, and everybody sucks! President Cool is GOD! I don't want to fight you anymore. I can be your mini-me, except, keep my name. Daddy, stop denying I exist! Yes, that's right, DJ Cool is my DAD! I kept my mother's name! What ya think about that. Wooooooga. C'mon Dad, give me a JOB. I want to JOB. The 1-2-3 Men are taking over. Wooooga.

[The invisible people pop like crazy as JD Kool exits the arena.]

I wanna be fed jobber (This is for D.J. Cool)
Posted by J.D. Kool on 12/4/2001 at 16:01:22

Here is my sample RP, the best one I ever done:

[Someplace.]

J.D. Kool: You suck. Wooga wooga wooga.

(go away, it's over.)

-Guess who

Are ya mocking me?
Posted by President Cool on 12/4/2001 at 17:09:37

*somewhere*

You heard

*dark*

*end*

No (part 1)
Posted by J.D. Kool on 12/4/2001 at 19:37:45

[Same place]

J.D.: Please...

(To be continued...)

Re: No (part 2)
Posted by J.D. Kool on 12/4/2001 at 19:39:27

[Place?]

J.D.: Meeee neeeeeeed worrrrrk! Sooooo cooooold!....Crapperz, out of film!

Someone is gonna get that ass wooga'd
Posted by President Cool on 12/5/2001 at 02:29:08

{scene}

P.C: IM WINNER

{dark}

{end}

Bleh! (A challenge)
Posted by J.D. Kool on 12/5/2001 at 10:59:24

[Screw the scene, let's get to it]

Hey boss. I'm challenging you to a wooga death match at the PPV. If I win, you have to hire JD Kool as fed jobber and I can put up horrible rps until I die or am maimed in the ring. If you win, I go away and never clutter up these boards again (fingers crossed behind back, just in case). If you ignore me, I promise to "MEW RUMP" these boards until you accept!

Your challenging the Extreme Legend....The Only Export from England.....THAT MATTERS....
Posted by President Cool on 12/5/2001 at 13:03:29

[Place]

President Cool: Challenged accepted....may the best Englishman win.....seeing as im the only Englishman here......that means me.......

[Dark]

absobloodylutely mate, don't get your knickers in a bunch you knackered bastard
Posted by J.D. Kool on 12/5/2001 at 13:23:46

[Jobber Land]

JD: Kool, I'm moving to rp land! And I speak English too. You're from Britain. You speak Britainese, you loser! We speak English in the USA! And we do it better! Laterz! Wooga wooga wooga. Uh-oh, am I gay? Oh right, that's you and your VP. Teeheehee.

[It's only beginning....]

Jobbers
Posted by Urine on 12/7/2001 at 04:12:13

i wanna be a jobber 2.

this is my sample RP

"Kick's Steve."

Re: Jobbers
Posted by J.D. Kool on 12/7/2001 at 15:14:59

[Somewhere.]

J.D. Kool silently weeps.

[Over.]

Re: Jobbers
Posted by Urine on 12/7/2001 at 15:39:37

[... what was i supposed to write here?]

wipes away kool's tears

[FIN]

I have a nightmare! (Urine, read)
Posted by J.D. Kool on 12/7/2001 at 15:58:39

[The moon.]

J.D.: I have an idea Urine. You and me should team up and form the least elite group ever! The 1-2-3 Men. The symbol of failure. Put three fingers in the air. Whooooooooga!!

[J.D. wakes up, really sweaty and a little sticky.]

Re: I have a nightmare! (Urine, read)
Posted by Urine on 12/7/2001 at 16:50:13

[my ass]

yes let's do that we will rock at loosing!

[pops out the ass]

J.D. marvels again at the amazing talent of Urine
Posted by J.D. Kool on 12/7/2001 at 16:53:30

[On a toilet]

J.D.: Cheers!

[Tinkle.]

Re: J.D. marvels again at the amazing talent of Urine
Posted by Urine on 12/7/2001 at 18:05:08

[in the toilet]

OH MY GOD

[splash]

The 1-2-3 Men
Posted by J.D. Kool on 12/7/2001 at 19:21:27

"The Unnatural Boy" J.D. Kool

"No Enforcement" Urine Anderson

Who can step into the least elite group ever assembled, the 1-2-3 Men!

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGA.

Three fingers in the air.

I wanna join
Posted by What about me? on 12/7/2001 at 20:20:30

xxxtremn machnie walsk to ring

casue nobodie sux wo5se then me doos im xxxmachnei an isuck ass 123 men gota h-ve 3 mens

xxxrtten mach*ne drops mick adn leeves

I may be a jobber, but I have standards
Posted by J.D. Kool on 12/7/2001 at 20:56:48

[Guess.]

J.D.: To be the man, WHOOOOOOGA!, you got to lose to the man. As far as your imaginary house show, we are the 1-2-3 Men, not the Stereotype Efed Crew. Whooooooooooooga! You suck! We're looking for INTERESTING jobbers, not JOBBER JOBBERS. Deniiiiiiiiiied.

[Die.]

Re: I may be a jobber, but I have standards
Posted by urine on 12/8/2001 at 05:25:12

[headache]

he's right you now. We are jobbers not suckers.

ohw my head hurts.

[asperin]

©2001 John Leary