(Hans): It's quite simple really Mike, Vanessa and I decided to spend a few days visiting her parents; which in my view, is a better use of my time than listening to the latest batch of lies, excuses and cop-outs that the NWO have trotted out. I went fly fishing, dined out, relaxed and recharged the batteries, and I simply wouldn't have been able to do that by letting in the narcistic droning that goes on from certain quarters.
He claps his hands together.
(Hans): But I'm back now.
Butch grins, raising his eyebrows for a moment and raises his hand, gesturing with an outstretched thumb in Hans' direction.
(Butch): Aye, the sly dog left me to hold the fort and put up with the shenanigans that have played out over the past couple of days.
Hans finds himself nodding in agreement.
(Hans): And he made a rather good job of it if I do say so myself.
Butch smiles despite myself.
(Butch): Well, I'd be a liar if I said I didn't garner some satisfaction from it.
Mike's shoulders judder as he laughs politely.
(Mike Anderson): What do you make of his statement that you only 'got hot as his world was freezing over' then Hans?
Hans glances sideways at Butch, a knowing glint in his eye.
(Hans): Fair enough, I'll bite...
He crosses his arms across his chest.
(Hans): I think it speaks for itself, that my third match back was a title match for the All-Star title. I then went on from that to win a battle royale featuring the, at the time; entire roster and then win the Tag-Team titles... we all know what I went on to do afterwards, so let's settle for saying that I was on fire from the get go. Now if Eddie got cold as he lost his World title, how does he explain getting beaten by me for his All-Star title?
(Mike Anderson): And his assertation that he jobbed the title to you?
(Hans): He's always been a dummkopf, but this is a load of absolute nonsense, even by his standards, and frankly, downright insulting to not only myself, but the people that paid good money to be there in person, bought the DVD's and all that other nonsense that Eddie harps on about being the main draw in. He says he used to act in commercials, well... *Scoffs* with the method acting skills he demonstrated, I'm surprised he didn't get big, because I don't know of many actors out there who would allow...
He tilts his head at Butch.
(Hans): ... someone to practically rip their throat out with a barbed wire baseball bat, to name but one of many things that happened during that match. I'm sorry Mike, but I call bullsh*t on that one.
(Mike Anderson): A fair comment.
Mike diverts his attention to Butch for time being, shifting his body weight as he does so.
(Mike Anderson): So, Butch, it wouldn't be a week in the HWA without some sort of verbal sparring match between yourself and Eddie Phoenix and this week is no different. You certainly let him have it several hours ago, practically merciless and it seems the hatred you have for him is showing no signs of abating. How do you feel about him brushing you off as he did?
An involuntary chuckle escapes Butch's mouth as he briefly glances towards Hans, smile still on his face which causes the World Champion to also laugh out a little. After a quick moment, Butch composes him and answers.
(Butch): Not really much to say If I'm being honest Mike. I addressed the issues I need to address after his appearance on David Letterman and he then filmed a thirty second titbit of him apparently "brushing me off", I'd hardly even call it that. He said he would address me when he had something to gain, roughly translated as he doesn't want to risk me handing him his own ass on a silver platter. Like Hans said, never has the definition of the term "cop-out" been brought to life.
Hans leans in.
(Hans): It'll be interesting to see if Eddie continues to go for the All-Star title now that Senester's holding it. As Butch has said on numerous occasions, where else can he turn? I've got him in my back pocket, Talon's going for the Spotlight, and Hogan, for his own safety, doesn't have a contract to allow him to compete.
Mike Anderson nods and shuffles through his sheets of paper, preparing his next question and as he doe so, Butch speaks up, looking at Hans as he does so.
(Butch): You know, this seems about as good a time as ever to start promoting my own latest contract.
He leans to his left until he's somewhat off-camera for a few moments, before straightening back up with two bottles of Powerade clasped in his hands.
(Butch): I'm quite parched from working up a sweat earlier on, know what I mean Hans?
(Hans): I know exactly what you mean Butch.
He makes a sweeping gesture around the room.
(Hans): And there's so many lights in here as well, what with the camera crew having to set up, that I'm getting a little hot under the collar too.
(Butch): Well then have one of my Powerades.
Hans graciously accepts one of the outstretched bottles, a smile breaking out before he cracks the top, and takes a long swig. As Butch follows suit, he reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, and retrieves a pair of Ray Ban aviators.
(Hans): Since I'd hate for you to risk your eyesight my friend, compliments of my own contract with Ray Ban, please accept this pair of aviator' to shade your eyes from the bright lights.
(Butch): Gee, thanks man, I sure do appreciate that, I'll wear them indoors to cement my awesomeness.
Butch proceeds to pull on the pair of sunglasses and goes onto sit with his arms folded across his chest, a mockingly serious expression on his face. Taking a final slug of his Powerade, Hans once more reaches into his back pocket, and slides an identical pair of aviator's out; placing them on, he attempts to mimic Butch, only to give up in a fit of laughter.
OOC: Sorry again guys, not enough room for the whole thing, there is more to come from this though!
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