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Hatton Clark Effect


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Due to miscommunication this was not posted for the show.



Stacy Clark: I’m here with my guests, The Hattons


Thomas Archer and Maxx Edwards, dressed as poor imitations of The Hattons walk into view.

Clark: Um...you’re not scheduled to be with us tonight…


Archer goes to flick his hair back and an absolutely terrible mullet goes flying off, landing on Clark’s shoulder. Slowly, it falls off after what seems like an age.

Archer: Muh name eeees Chaaaaase Hattingson and about have about one, six, eight, three. Two, two teeth. And ah once thought tersticles were educmacatory things. Hyuck!


Edwards: And I’m his equally stupid brother and lover from the same gosh darn mother, Graham Hatton.


Archer: Did ya see that Archer boy? He sure was handsome as he was making me hoot and holler on the floor in pain.


Maxx pauses, not sure which Hatton it actually was that tapped out.

Edwards: Shoot! Or was it me? It ain’t matter much, hyuck.


Archer: Dats right, we had a good ol’ fashun Hasbeenton family bath crapple.


Edwards: For shure.


Archer: Hyuck!


Edwards: Hyuck!


Archer: Hyuck!


Edwards: Hyuck, Hyuck!


Archer: Hyuck, I’m dumb, I smell bad.


Edwards: Best part is momma’s our cousin...sister...AND uncle, hyuck Hyuck!


Archer and Edwards laugh at their own hilarity as Stacy rolls her eyes so hard it can almost be heard.

Stacy: This is ridiculous.


Archer stands up from his chair, dropping the mocking accent.

Archer: No, I’ll tell you what is ridiculous Stacy… That I was robbed of my international championship, that I wasn’t granted a rematch clause… You can count on one hand the amount of matches I’ve directly lost… And yet I’ve been put into the ring with a bunch of ignoramuses who are a few thousand years short of discovering fire.


Edwards: But here’s the kicker Stacy…


Edwards leans forward, smirking as he too, rips off his comedy mullet.

Edwards: We won. We overcame.


Archer: We proved that Thomas Archer is a ring general, a competitive specialist. We have ushered in…


Edwards: Tag.


Archer: Team.


Edwards: Dominance.


Stacy attempts to interrupt: But it’s only been one…


Archer: Irrelevant, just give us CQC, nay, give us the undisputed tag team champions already.


Edwards: Whether or not you’d like to admit it, we’re ready for it, as much as OCW…


Archer: And CQC are not…


Edwards: Thomas and I already proved that the Hattons are not in our league so…


Archer: Let’s advance to the next stage…


Archers sentence doesn’t seem finished, but a gob of chewing tobacco comes from off screen, landing perilously close to his Italian leather shoes, causing his eyes to bulge.

Chase: Now hol’ on a moment there buck. We was havin’ a good ole laugh watchin’ you boys.


Graham: But we gotta draw the line right here. Don’t you be insultin’ cousin love, boy. So what she ya third, forth, first cousin? Love is love, buck.


Chase: Ya’ you don’t see us gettin’ all worked up about sexual direction, now do ya?


Graham: Matta fact we was thinking about hooking ya up with our friend Tex, he one of those queer boys too.


Archer: I’M NOT GAY.


Chase: Hey man, where we from we ain’t ever had no boy grab below the belt as much as you.


Graham: I mean we flatta, but we prefers too grab ourselves some big ole titties.


Chase: So you yap away all you want. But we know you can't stand us. You look like one of dem Harvard educated folks and we've met a few.


Graham: You can't stand us country boys and will bitch an' moan until we gone. But we ain't goin no where. So you just gonna have to roll up dem sleeves and do it yourself.

"Amatuer cheat hunter, Resident OCWFED historian, Lover of spreadsheets, data and HOI, MASTER OF THE GOKART"




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