Post by Jersey Jim Luzzatto on Nov 27, 2020 21:27:15 GMT
“Jersey” Jim Luzzatto grunts with gritted teeth after each dumbbell bicep curl, his shiny oil-lathered arms bulging as much as those fuming eyes. Cocaine sweat pours down his reddened face. A yellow sleeveless shirt assists the cameraman in concealing that depressing gut, drawing focus to the legendary arms.
To his right is “Surly” Sam Oberman in a tuxedo and bow tie. To his left is someone older fans will remember – not-so-former manager Joey Moretti. The notorious New Yorker looks like Tony Montana in his sunglasses, light cream suit, halfway unbuttoned red silk shirt, and red handkerchief. A big white tablecloth acts as the background; decked out in cartoon images of maple leaves, pumpkins, and turkeys.
Oberman speaks with dulcet tones. “Ladies and gentlemen! We are coming up on Cheap Pops Pro Wrestling Volume 3! 'Jersey' Jim Luzzatto hosts an Arm Wrestling Invitational and we already have one challenger – none other than Babatunde Garamunde! But Joey Moretti – 'The Mouth of Manhattan,' 'The Talk of Times Square' – what are you doing here?!”
Moretti sneers. “That's something you should ask that bumpkin when he's in the ring with a pro wrestling god like 'Jersey' Jim Luzzatto! What's his name again?! Blah Blah Tubby?! Bubba Chubby?! Banjo Kazooie?!”
“Babatunde!”
“Bubba thinks we'll remember that?! Ha! He'll be just one of countless others to get their arms snapped by the unrivaled, undefeated King of Arm Wrestling – 'Jersey' Jim Luzzatto!”
“Didn't Jim lose a match in the seventh grade?! That's what I heard!”
Luzzatto tosses the dumbbells aside and towers over Sam, pointing in his face and showering him with spit. “If you wanna turn this into a shoot, brother, let's talk about the mannequins at your condo with holes made in the crot–”
“We don't need to go there, Jim!”
“Then we don't need to talk about seventh grade, brother!”
Luzzatto begins a furious flexing routine. There's enough unbridled testosterone to make your screen explode.
Sam wipes his brow, quickly composing himself. “Jim, what are your thoughts on Babatunde Garamunde and anyone else accepting your arm wrestling invitation at Cheap Pops Volume 3?!”
Luzzatto opens his body up more to the camera. “Look at these guns!” He holds a double bicep flex pose. “They roll on a 300 pound alpha male tank! They shook the world when I slammed The Behemoth at the Superdome! Or Silverdome! Or Metrodome! Wherever it was! The '80s were crazy, brother! And this tank rolled and blasted through it all!” He runs through more poses. “The biggest names in professional wrestling got crushed by these pipes! So what makes these indy geeks think they can take on their cosmic power in arm wrestling?! Because they wrestle lions, tigers, and bears in Zamunda?!” Luzzatto stops posing. His voice grows louder as he clenches his fists. “I could have pointed Baba toward the American Dream if he carried my bags! I could have shown him how to pay his dues in this business! Instead he just wanted me to give him vitamins! Typical young punk! He wants everything now without putting in any work! Let me smarten ya kids up! You don't ask for vitamins on social media in front of the world! You gotta talk to a guy at the gym or meet some weirdo in a dark alleyway, brother! And don't forget your wallet if you don't wanna touch your toes and find out where the wild goose goes!”
Sam is aghast. “What?!”
Moretti cackles. “They don't even know how to get vitamins, baby! How are they gonna beat Jimmy in arm wrestling?!”
“A buncha jabroni marks are gonna line up! And I'm gonna rip their arms right outta their sockets! Then I'll pin on their shirts a signed 8x10 that anybody there can purchase for twenty American dollars! Baba can take that home and show all his friends and family – and all the lions, tigers, and bears too! He can tell them about the time he tried playing pro wrestler in the United States before losing his arms to an arm wrestling king, pro wrestling legend, and a bonafide global megastar – 'Jersey' Jim Luzzatto!”
Sam sounds vexed. “There you have it! You can see 'Jersey' Jim Luzzatto's Arm Wrestling Invitational at Cheap Pops Pro Wrestling Volume 3! Live from the Mega Mallplex! We will see you there! I need a drink...”
To his right is “Surly” Sam Oberman in a tuxedo and bow tie. To his left is someone older fans will remember – not-so-former manager Joey Moretti. The notorious New Yorker looks like Tony Montana in his sunglasses, light cream suit, halfway unbuttoned red silk shirt, and red handkerchief. A big white tablecloth acts as the background; decked out in cartoon images of maple leaves, pumpkins, and turkeys.
Oberman speaks with dulcet tones. “Ladies and gentlemen! We are coming up on Cheap Pops Pro Wrestling Volume 3! 'Jersey' Jim Luzzatto hosts an Arm Wrestling Invitational and we already have one challenger – none other than Babatunde Garamunde! But Joey Moretti – 'The Mouth of Manhattan,' 'The Talk of Times Square' – what are you doing here?!”
Moretti sneers. “That's something you should ask that bumpkin when he's in the ring with a pro wrestling god like 'Jersey' Jim Luzzatto! What's his name again?! Blah Blah Tubby?! Bubba Chubby?! Banjo Kazooie?!”
“Babatunde!”
“Bubba thinks we'll remember that?! Ha! He'll be just one of countless others to get their arms snapped by the unrivaled, undefeated King of Arm Wrestling – 'Jersey' Jim Luzzatto!”
“Didn't Jim lose a match in the seventh grade?! That's what I heard!”
Luzzatto tosses the dumbbells aside and towers over Sam, pointing in his face and showering him with spit. “If you wanna turn this into a shoot, brother, let's talk about the mannequins at your condo with holes made in the crot–”
“We don't need to go there, Jim!”
“Then we don't need to talk about seventh grade, brother!”
Luzzatto begins a furious flexing routine. There's enough unbridled testosterone to make your screen explode.
Sam wipes his brow, quickly composing himself. “Jim, what are your thoughts on Babatunde Garamunde and anyone else accepting your arm wrestling invitation at Cheap Pops Volume 3?!”
Luzzatto opens his body up more to the camera. “Look at these guns!” He holds a double bicep flex pose. “They roll on a 300 pound alpha male tank! They shook the world when I slammed The Behemoth at the Superdome! Or Silverdome! Or Metrodome! Wherever it was! The '80s were crazy, brother! And this tank rolled and blasted through it all!” He runs through more poses. “The biggest names in professional wrestling got crushed by these pipes! So what makes these indy geeks think they can take on their cosmic power in arm wrestling?! Because they wrestle lions, tigers, and bears in Zamunda?!” Luzzatto stops posing. His voice grows louder as he clenches his fists. “I could have pointed Baba toward the American Dream if he carried my bags! I could have shown him how to pay his dues in this business! Instead he just wanted me to give him vitamins! Typical young punk! He wants everything now without putting in any work! Let me smarten ya kids up! You don't ask for vitamins on social media in front of the world! You gotta talk to a guy at the gym or meet some weirdo in a dark alleyway, brother! And don't forget your wallet if you don't wanna touch your toes and find out where the wild goose goes!”
Sam is aghast. “What?!”
Moretti cackles. “They don't even know how to get vitamins, baby! How are they gonna beat Jimmy in arm wrestling?!”
“A buncha jabroni marks are gonna line up! And I'm gonna rip their arms right outta their sockets! Then I'll pin on their shirts a signed 8x10 that anybody there can purchase for twenty American dollars! Baba can take that home and show all his friends and family – and all the lions, tigers, and bears too! He can tell them about the time he tried playing pro wrestler in the United States before losing his arms to an arm wrestling king, pro wrestling legend, and a bonafide global megastar – 'Jersey' Jim Luzzatto!”
Sam sounds vexed. “There you have it! You can see 'Jersey' Jim Luzzatto's Arm Wrestling Invitational at Cheap Pops Pro Wrestling Volume 3! Live from the Mega Mallplex! We will see you there! I need a drink...”