Again we're shown the ATW arena where the fans are buzzing after the match they've just seen and also once again the camera cuts to the titan tron where we can see Hack3r standing in a small, one man sized hut holding Cornelius in his arms. Beside the wrestler stands a bearded man, wearing dungarees, a straw hat and he's chewing a piece of wheat in his jaw. Hack3r rolls his eyes at the camera.
Hack3r: Hello again ATW universe! How about that last much? Crazy stuff ay, crazy stuff.
The brit just begins pointlessly nodding. It's obvious he has forgotten what he was supposed to be saying and is just stalling for time. He clicks his fingers in excitement and continues to talk after several seconds.
Hack3r: I'm here with Mr Po! He's gla -
Farmer: Mr Po is ma fathar. Call me Jersey.
Disbelief crosses Hack3r's face.
Hack3r: Are you serious? Jersey? as in, Jersey of Po's 'Tater farm?
Jersey: Ohh-arr.
Hack3r: Wow k. Wasn't expecting that. Anyways -
Once again Hack3r looks at the camera.
Hack3r: I'm here with Jersey Po. D'you think I could ask you some questions Jersey?
Jersey takes the wheat out of his mouth, looks at it then sticks it up his nose for a few seconds then pulls it out and places it back into his mouth. Hack3r looks disgusted.
Jersey: Ohh-arr.
Hack3r: I don't speak farmer. What does "Ohh-arr" mean?
An offended look crosses the farmer's face.
Jersey: You don't speak farmaa? What are ye? Some kind of citeee prettee boyy or summit?
Hack3r: Well I don't know if you can tell by what I'm wearing but I'm not exactly a farmer ...
Jersey looks Hack3r up and down. We can see the wrestler is wearing black skinny jeans coupled with gray converse trainers and a green T shirt.
Jersey: Dont'cha play smart with me citee boyy.
Hack3r whispers something under his breath about not needing to play smart but simply needing to play somewhat civilised.
Jersey: What were that'chu just said?
Hack3r: Oh I didn't say anything! Sorry if I offended you. Anyway, clearly asking you questions was an unforeseen failure. Where's your father?
The hick farmer chuckles to himself but this innocent chuckle soon morphs into a spluttering cough. The farmer doubles up and begins coughing hysterically. He stands up again, hucks a loogie then spits it out on the floor. For the second time tonight Hack3r looks disgusted.
Jersey: Ma fatharr? He's 'round 'ere. He's always 'round these parts. Has been for the last twenty 'ears orso.
Hack3r: Wow k.
Cornelius reaches up and nuzzles at Hack3r's ear.
Hack3r: My friend here would like to use the little rabbit's room. Is there one around? Maybe your fiekd?
The farmer's face changes from one of slight annoyance to downright anger.
Jersey: What'chu say citee boyy?
Hack3r: I asked if my friend could use the toilet... I didn't mean to offend you.
The hick begins to breathe slowly as if calming himself.
Jersey: There's a 'lil outhouse outside. Mind 'hat I haven't washed it since the last time I needed it. Ohh-arr.
Hack3r whispers something under his breath about not being surprised. The farmer doesn't seem to notice as he's begun spinning a large, glass jar of something that looks vaguely like something you'd pull from a human.
Hack3r: What's that you've got there?
Jersey: This? Ohh-arr. Don'tchu mind your prettee 'lil citee 'ead. Now, let me take you out to the turlet.
The farmer places the jar back on the shelf he got it from. We can see he's placed it beside several ribbons of two varying colours. There are 3 of yellow and 2 of green. Jersey begins to walk outside. Hack3r follows rather hesitantly as the camera fades back to the arena.
OOC: I'm aware that there's spelling mistakes in this. I'm not retarded but the farmer is supposed to be.
Hack3r: Hello again ATW universe! How about that last much? Crazy stuff ay, crazy stuff.
The brit just begins pointlessly nodding. It's obvious he has forgotten what he was supposed to be saying and is just stalling for time. He clicks his fingers in excitement and continues to talk after several seconds.
Hack3r: I'm here with Mr Po! He's gla -
Farmer: Mr Po is ma fathar. Call me Jersey.
Disbelief crosses Hack3r's face.
Hack3r: Are you serious? Jersey? as in, Jersey of Po's 'Tater farm?
Jersey: Ohh-arr.
Hack3r: Wow k. Wasn't expecting that. Anyways -
Once again Hack3r looks at the camera.
Hack3r: I'm here with Jersey Po. D'you think I could ask you some questions Jersey?
Jersey takes the wheat out of his mouth, looks at it then sticks it up his nose for a few seconds then pulls it out and places it back into his mouth. Hack3r looks disgusted.
Jersey: Ohh-arr.
Hack3r: I don't speak farmer. What does "Ohh-arr" mean?
An offended look crosses the farmer's face.
Jersey: You don't speak farmaa? What are ye? Some kind of citeee prettee boyy or summit?
Hack3r: Well I don't know if you can tell by what I'm wearing but I'm not exactly a farmer ...
Jersey looks Hack3r up and down. We can see the wrestler is wearing black skinny jeans coupled with gray converse trainers and a green T shirt.
Jersey: Dont'cha play smart with me citee boyy.
Hack3r whispers something under his breath about not needing to play smart but simply needing to play somewhat civilised.
Jersey: What were that'chu just said?
Hack3r: Oh I didn't say anything! Sorry if I offended you. Anyway, clearly asking you questions was an unforeseen failure. Where's your father?
The hick farmer chuckles to himself but this innocent chuckle soon morphs into a spluttering cough. The farmer doubles up and begins coughing hysterically. He stands up again, hucks a loogie then spits it out on the floor. For the second time tonight Hack3r looks disgusted.
Jersey: Ma fatharr? He's 'round 'ere. He's always 'round these parts. Has been for the last twenty 'ears orso.
Hack3r: Wow k.
Cornelius reaches up and nuzzles at Hack3r's ear.
Hack3r: My friend here would like to use the little rabbit's room. Is there one around? Maybe your fiekd?
The farmer's face changes from one of slight annoyance to downright anger.
Jersey: What'chu say citee boyy?
Hack3r: I asked if my friend could use the toilet... I didn't mean to offend you.
The hick begins to breathe slowly as if calming himself.
Jersey: There's a 'lil outhouse outside. Mind 'hat I haven't washed it since the last time I needed it. Ohh-arr.
Hack3r whispers something under his breath about not being surprised. The farmer doesn't seem to notice as he's begun spinning a large, glass jar of something that looks vaguely like something you'd pull from a human.
Hack3r: What's that you've got there?
Jersey: This? Ohh-arr. Don'tchu mind your prettee 'lil citee 'ead. Now, let me take you out to the turlet.
The farmer places the jar back on the shelf he got it from. We can see he's placed it beside several ribbons of two varying colours. There are 3 of yellow and 2 of green. Jersey begins to walk outside. Hack3r follows rather hesitantly as the camera fades back to the arena.
OOC: I'm aware that there's spelling mistakes in this. I'm not retarded but the farmer is supposed to be.
