Post by ~*The Pride of Ireland*~ on Aug 23, 2007 12:11:36 GMT -5
We Love to See You Smile:
Ah Mcdonalds, arguably the King of Cholesterol and greasy fried fast foods. You could find one just about anywhere, except maybe Canada…but there’s only snow and moose there anyway so Who Cares? Its on this fine day however, that we find Roland McGregor and Sister Willow. Dressed in rather awkward green Celtic clothing, Roland with a gold button vest over a white minor ruffled shirt, and Willow with a slit dress wearing and gold brace and anklets. Awkward to our standards, but perfectly normal attire for a hot summers day to them.
The two gallivanted their jovial way into the international house of preservatives, and walked right up to the poor pimply faced rage of hormones we call a cashier. His name tag says it all “Mortimer”. He takes a look over the hungry Irish Sprites and frowns before declaring,
Mortimer:
No shirt, no shoes, no service.
Pointing towards Willows bare feet and gold anklets. But Roland was not to be denied today, he quickly retorted,
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
So if I were to take off me pants, you can still serve me mate?
McGregor motions towards his lower garments as if to really follow through until Mortimer screams in fright.
Mortimer:
No no! Please, keep your clothes on. How may I take your order?
~*Willow*~:
One Chipotle Barbecue Snackwrap please.
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
And a McChicken Mini Meal Deal for me, laddie.
Mortimer:
Would you like fries with that?
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
It’s a mini meal isn’t it? Goodness.
After receiving their order, Roland and Willow sit in the cleanest spot they can find and munch of their lunches. Yes I purposely just alliterated. And yes, I purposely just broke narrative character. Moving on.
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
You know, this sandwhich is simply amazing. Its called a McChicken, and they call me McGregor. It’s like they named it after me, what a concept!
~*Willow*~:
No such luck, numb skull. It’s called McDonalds.
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
The restaurant too? What a shanty!
~*Willow*~:
Aye…
They continue to take bites out of their prospective meals, wafting through the smell of hot oil and quarter pounders being rushed out drive through windows. Roland wipes his mouth with his sleeve, and begins his inquiry.
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
So Willow, who are my opponents this week for me debut? What kind of nasty bruisers or lightning fast buggers can I expect to take a crack at?
~*Willow*~:
Well, you are going up against a Hard Rock, a Super Star, and random Anti-Christ rip off number 47.
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
…aye? Alright, lets get through these guys one challenge at a time. Now for the Hard Rock, he’s something of an unknown right?
~*Willow*~
Actually, he thinks he’s gods gift to wrestling and Rock N Roll. He’s got credentials a mile long, and no showed his first match.
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
Aye, so he thinks he’s better than the rest of us eh? I’ll show him what’s for with a side of how dos that’s what I’ll do.
~*Willow*~:
…moving on. Dustin Reeves is another one of those outsiders looking in to steal the glory. I don’t know much about the man, beyond the fact that he has a midget with a pink sexual device.
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
HAHAHAHAHA!!! A Dildo?! You feel uncomfortable speaking of a Dildo? By george its pricele-
~*Willow*~:
Focus!!!
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
Ahhh!!!
~*Willow*~
What dear brother, your not honestly afraid of your own sister?
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
Not at all, it’s the dragon breath from your Snackwrap! Anywho, lets move on, the last man?
~*Willow*~:
(Sigh). Ok, the last one is by the name of Jeckel V. A hardcore high flier who likes to creep out his foes with unnatural feats and inhuman torture devices. Like I said, Generic Anti-Christ Rip Off number 47.
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
So what of 1-46? What happened to them?
~*Willow*~:
They are either running around in some other federation trying to act frightening, or they cut themselves to death, either way I don’t see you having anything to worry about.
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
That’s for sure. Well I believe I am done. Would you like an Ice Cream or something to cleanse your rancid breath?
~*Willow*~:
I’ll cleanse your bowels in a minute!
Willow leaps over the table in an attempt to lunge at her dimwitted brother, who ducks under the table and scrambles to his feet looking at the camera.
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
This is Roland McGregor saying, We love to see you smile!
He dodges out of the way again, as Willow tackles the cameraman, busting the lense and forcefully sending the scene fading into black.
Ah Mcdonalds, arguably the King of Cholesterol and greasy fried fast foods. You could find one just about anywhere, except maybe Canada…but there’s only snow and moose there anyway so Who Cares? Its on this fine day however, that we find Roland McGregor and Sister Willow. Dressed in rather awkward green Celtic clothing, Roland with a gold button vest over a white minor ruffled shirt, and Willow with a slit dress wearing and gold brace and anklets. Awkward to our standards, but perfectly normal attire for a hot summers day to them.
The two gallivanted their jovial way into the international house of preservatives, and walked right up to the poor pimply faced rage of hormones we call a cashier. His name tag says it all “Mortimer”. He takes a look over the hungry Irish Sprites and frowns before declaring,
Mortimer:
No shirt, no shoes, no service.
Pointing towards Willows bare feet and gold anklets. But Roland was not to be denied today, he quickly retorted,
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
So if I were to take off me pants, you can still serve me mate?
McGregor motions towards his lower garments as if to really follow through until Mortimer screams in fright.
Mortimer:
No no! Please, keep your clothes on. How may I take your order?
~*Willow*~:
One Chipotle Barbecue Snackwrap please.
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
And a McChicken Mini Meal Deal for me, laddie.
Mortimer:
Would you like fries with that?
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
It’s a mini meal isn’t it? Goodness.
After receiving their order, Roland and Willow sit in the cleanest spot they can find and munch of their lunches. Yes I purposely just alliterated. And yes, I purposely just broke narrative character. Moving on.
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
You know, this sandwhich is simply amazing. Its called a McChicken, and they call me McGregor. It’s like they named it after me, what a concept!
~*Willow*~:
No such luck, numb skull. It’s called McDonalds.
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
The restaurant too? What a shanty!
~*Willow*~:
Aye…
They continue to take bites out of their prospective meals, wafting through the smell of hot oil and quarter pounders being rushed out drive through windows. Roland wipes his mouth with his sleeve, and begins his inquiry.
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
So Willow, who are my opponents this week for me debut? What kind of nasty bruisers or lightning fast buggers can I expect to take a crack at?
~*Willow*~:
Well, you are going up against a Hard Rock, a Super Star, and random Anti-Christ rip off number 47.
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
…aye? Alright, lets get through these guys one challenge at a time. Now for the Hard Rock, he’s something of an unknown right?
~*Willow*~
Actually, he thinks he’s gods gift to wrestling and Rock N Roll. He’s got credentials a mile long, and no showed his first match.
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
Aye, so he thinks he’s better than the rest of us eh? I’ll show him what’s for with a side of how dos that’s what I’ll do.
~*Willow*~:
…moving on. Dustin Reeves is another one of those outsiders looking in to steal the glory. I don’t know much about the man, beyond the fact that he has a midget with a pink sexual device.
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
HAHAHAHAHA!!! A Dildo?! You feel uncomfortable speaking of a Dildo? By george its pricele-
~*Willow*~:
Focus!!!
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
Ahhh!!!
~*Willow*~
What dear brother, your not honestly afraid of your own sister?
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
Not at all, it’s the dragon breath from your Snackwrap! Anywho, lets move on, the last man?
~*Willow*~:
(Sigh). Ok, the last one is by the name of Jeckel V. A hardcore high flier who likes to creep out his foes with unnatural feats and inhuman torture devices. Like I said, Generic Anti-Christ Rip Off number 47.
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
So what of 1-46? What happened to them?
~*Willow*~:
They are either running around in some other federation trying to act frightening, or they cut themselves to death, either way I don’t see you having anything to worry about.
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
That’s for sure. Well I believe I am done. Would you like an Ice Cream or something to cleanse your rancid breath?
~*Willow*~:
I’ll cleanse your bowels in a minute!
Willow leaps over the table in an attempt to lunge at her dimwitted brother, who ducks under the table and scrambles to his feet looking at the camera.
~*The Pride of Ireland*~ Roland McGregor:
This is Roland McGregor saying, We love to see you smile!
He dodges out of the way again, as Willow tackles the cameraman, busting the lense and forcefully sending the scene fading into black.
