Emerging from the Atlantic Ocean, onto Miami Beach…



THE MOST ELECTRIFYING MACHINE IN SPORTS ENTERTAINMENT!

THE CPU UPON WHICH THE CORPORATION RUNS!

THE MOTHERBOARD WITH WHOM YOUR MOTHER SCORED!

DWAYNE “THE GROK” JOHN-

”Narrator, know your role and SHUT YOUR MOUTH! I only got 500 words to smack a pack of slack-jawed saps!”

…*ahem* Sorry.

”Did your unwashed human asses think the Corporation would settle for only taking the Universal title? Delete those photos of your fat wives and ugly kids off your desktop so you can access more memory!”

“Then maybe you’d remember THE MOST ELECTRIFYING MACHINE IN SPORTS ENTERTAINMENT!”

I already said that!

“IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT YOU ALREADY SAID!”

A mother-and-daughter uncomfortably watch The Grok yell at the sky.

“Mommy, who’s that man talking to?”

“Don’t look at him, sweetie.”

“Now! Who’s first on my list?”

“Razor Blade? Sharp as a bowling ball! His lines are more out-of-date than that bitch Windows ‘95!”

“I’ll give this to Razor! He’s efficient! He writes every promo with two buttons… Control-C! Control-V! That dumbass repeats himself OVER and OVER, like a skipping mp3!”

”Wh-wh-what d-d-do y-y-you guys w-w-wanna talk a-a-a-about?”

“I wanna talk about shoving my BIONIC fist through your mouth so hard, it comes out your ass so the shit you spew out your gob finally exits the right hole, jabroni!”

“Ari Silverstein? Mailroom technician? Your job became irrelevant with the invention of E-MAIL! You’re more useless than that bitch, Jeeves!”

“Ask Jeeves? SHUT THE HELL UP, JEEVES! AIN’T NOBODY ASKING YOU SHIT WITH THE GROK AROUND!”

“Mini Morbid? The Grok’s gonna lift your little Mini-Me-looking ass above the top rope and throw you so far, you’ll need to follow the Yellow Brick Road to find home again, you munchkin ass BITCH!”

“Latoya Hixx? She’s got less brain processing power than a Tamagotchi! She demands title matches, but the only thing she should be demanding is the Wizard give her a brain!”

“Speaking of brains, Ace Sky! 190 IQ! Childhood dreams of being an astronaut! Well, the Grok’s gonna smack you into the stratosphere! And before you can say ‘Houston, we have a problem…”? The Grok will coordinate re-entry… As in, I’ll enter and re-enter your MOMMA! Give you some siblings! Make it a full house, ACE!”

“Clutch Cassidy? Trying to switch from racing cars to the winner’s circle of wrestling? How about you race to the Grok’s dressin room… Rev your… ‘engine’... *Clutch* it…”

“AND GO FUCK YOURSELF, CASSIDY!”

“Reggie Estrada! Posin’ like it’s a heimlich diagram every time you hit a move successfully! Drink some goddamned water, you chokin’ bitch, before the Grok sticks his solar-powered boot where the sun don’t shine so far, it gets stuck in your throat! Then, you’ll REALLY have something to choke on!”

“Everybody else? Who gives one FUCK? This OPEN battle royal closed when the actual MEGA-STAR declared himself in it!”

“The Corporation’s powerhouse! The CPU better than you!”

“THE GROK! IF YA CAN GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASP…”

“WHAT THE GROK.”

“IS.”

“CONVEYING.”