SmackDown: MadMike's Revenge!

Bonus Round 3: Prequel - @Reffster

Superpalooza

Prequel

"Is everything to your liking, Mr Kroeger?"

"The dressing room could be bigger. And what's with these cockroaches?"

"Sir?"

"These so-called fresh cockroaches! Fresh, my ass. You can barely feel 'em wriggle as they go down. I specifically asked for fresh, king-size brown-banded cockroaches. There's nothing like a live cockroach to roughen up the vocal cords before a big gig. These sorry specimens are half-dead."

"So sorry, Mr Kroeger. I'll have one of my assistants check under the fridge for some fresher specimens."

"Fine, but make it snappy. Now, I assume you want an autograph?"

"Sir?"

"An autograph, you idiot! I'm Chad Kroeger, so you must want my autograph."

"Er - no, that's OK, thanks Mr Kroeger. I'll just go and see about those cockroaches."

"So you already have an autograph, is that it?"

"Um, I don't believe so, sir."

"Well then, give me something to sign, dumbass."

"That's really not necessary, Mr Kroeger. I'll just-"

"I know it's not necessary, you cretinous lackey. That's what makes it such a magnanimous gesture. An enormously talented, hugely successful rock-star like me, offering an autograph to an inconsequential nobody like you. No doubt it'll be one of the highlights of your pathetic life. Maybe the highlight. Now give me something to sign."

"I don't have any paper on me, Mr Kroeger."

"Don't sweat it, scumbag. You wouldn't believe some of the things I've signed. Just give me whatever you've got. I've got my special autograph pen here - this baby will write on anything."

"I don't have anything to sign, Mr Kroeger."

"Bullshit, moron. You've got a shirt, you've got your backstage pass. Hell, you've even got a forehead. Get over here."

"No."

"Sorry, what?

"I said "no", Mr Kroeger."

"No?"

"No."

"So let me get this straight. You're saying "no" to the autograph of one of the biggest rock-stars on the planet?"

"No."

"I didn't think so. Come on over."

"No, I mean I'm not saying "no" to one of the biggest rock-stars on the planet. I'm saying "no" to you."

"What the hell are you talking about, dirtbag?"

"Mr Kroeger, I'm prepared to cater to your ridiculous whims whilst you're a performer at this festival, because that's what I'm paid to do. However, nowhere in my contract does it state that I'm required to devalue of any of my possessions by having them soiled with your moniker. Anything you signed, I'd need to throw away and I'm not really inclined to throw away anything I currently have on me. So, let me be very clear. I. Do. Not. Want. Your. Autograph.

"You do realise I'm Chad, don't you? Not Mike."

"Yes, Mr Kroeger. I'll just go and see about those cockroaches."

"Yeah, you do that. And in about half an hour you'll be crawling to me on your hands and knees for an autograph. You'll realise I'm the greatest ever. You and everyone else here."

"Yes, Mr Kroeger."