[RECORDING]
Backstage at the Nippon Budokan in Tokyo, three men are shown stepping out of a rental car in the parking lot after arriving. These three men are collectively known as The Ozmanclaimed; Max Pollux, Anthony Bsteen and Father Posterior. Both Max and Anthony - set to take on Kung-Fu Boom tonight - carry their bags containing their ring gear. Father Posterior wears black robes along with his white collar. Anthony notices the camera finding them and then nudges Max. The duo grin as they approach those filming.
“Yo! Are you getting this? We’re rolling?” Max asks, patting his hand on Anthony’s chest. He waits for an answer, which is affirmative. “Listen, the Ozmanclaimed are in the house tonight here in Tokyo, and we’ve got something real exciting that we want everyone around the world to see.”
Bsteen steps forward and addresses the camera, talking in a style not too dissimilar to a television salesperson, “That’s right. The Ozmanclaimed want to show you all our brand new music video, which we have dedicated to our opponents tonight, Kung-Fu Boom.”
Bsteen places his fist in his hand and slowly bows his head at the front of the trio. Pollux and Father Posterior do the same thing. The entire scene reeks of insincerity. “So, Jimmy and Kyle, we hope you’re paying attention, boys! Without further adieu, The Ozmanclaimed would like to proudly present… ‘The Ancient Art of Kicking Your Ass.’”
With that, the scene fades to black for a few seconds and then a pre-recorded video begins to play/.
The music video begins in the setting of a church in Japan. Leaves fall from the trees in the church’s courtyard and land on the floor delicately. Three men walk through the gate and are shown from behind; but they are of course Max Pollux, Anthony Bsteen and Father Posterior. From the perspective of a cloaked man inside the church, the three are shown walking between the gravestones towards the church entrance. Max’s rapping plays over shots of the three protagonists walking inside the church.
“Kung-Fu Boom, Kung-Fu Pow. Kung-Fu Who? Kung-Fu How?
Ozmanclaimed in the house, Kicking doors down.
Kung-Fu What? Kung-Fu Why? What’s with the damn questions?
You sensei got fired, now we’re teaching you lessons!”
“Under the rising sun, Ozmanclaimed come out to play.
The fans will have a huge blast, like their guy Shinzo Abe.
And you’re Kung-Fu Boom? Watching you is a kung fu recession.
We gotta slap you so bad, pushing you into deep depression.”
From the shadows, various men dressed as ninjas approach the Ozmanclaimed, and together Max and Anthony begin to punch and kick them to repel them away from the group. The fighting is interspersed with shots of them both inside and outside the church performing the chorus to the camera.
“It’s the ancient art of kicking your ass.
No master now, so you gotta learn fast.
In the wrong game, won’t ever go far.
Everyone pour one out for Jimmy and Carl.”
Two men wearing gis stand at the back of the church and watch the carnage unfold in front of them as ninjas as thrown over pews and Max smashes an ornamental vase over one assailant’s head. It doesn’t matter who these people are, as the ones that matter are the ones at the back of the church.
“You found your home in the dumpster; flat out trash.
We’re stars in the gang, man fuck Aly and Krash!
Watch our mouths because our weapons are words.
Posterior and the boys gonna flush some turds.”
“Nine tails, nine males, we’ll take on all comers.
Ozmanclaimed loaf of bread, you’re nothing but crumbers.
How will you even compare with your goofy sitcom looking asses?
We’re gonna melt our gold chains and have you drink it like Crassus.
Facing you chumps is an insult and we have half the mind to say it.
The kitsune who booked us together must have nine tails but no wit.”
Anthony is shown gasping in a B-reel shot over the last lyric. The Ozmanclaimed are close to clearing out all of the goons standing in their way.
“It’s the ancient art of kicking your ass.
No master now, so you gotta learn fast.
In the wrong game, won’t ever go far.
Everyone pour one out for Jimmy and Carl.”
“We harmonize kicks with bars because we’re flat out superior.
And we’ll help you two pray like our homeboy Father Posterior.
You’ll already be on your knees after we beat you black and blue;
Just stick a sword in your hands and you’ll be good for seppuku.”
“Going too far? There is no holding back, it’s our rapper’s bushido.
Our words are like a torpedo, no matter if it's in Japan or Puerto Rico.
Because two white-belt white boys can’t square up to this pair.
Oz-y-man-dias-claimed, listen to our works, ye mighty and despair.”
Max and Anthony reach the two men at the back of the church at long last. They put up their best fighting stances, but it is clear that neither of them want the smoke and they barge past The Ozmanclaimed and try to escape, but Father Posterior knocks them both down at the same time as they attempt to escape.
“It’s the ancient art of kicking your ass.
No master now, so you gotta learn fast.
In the wrong game, won’t ever go far.
Everyone pour one out for Jimmy and Carl.”
The video ends with Max and Anthony standing in front of the church, surrounded by the defeated ninjas. They cross their arms and remain unflinching as Father Posterior pours holy water over their heads from golden chalices.
———————————————————————————————
Returning elsewhere backstage, the focus is on a dark room which is dimly lit. The only sources of light are the candles at the back of the room, flickering and dancing. Barely visible are two figures kneeling on the ground in front of the candles and the small makeshift alters. A third robed figure emerges from the shadows and walks past the camera. In the scarce light, it is just about possible to identify this man as Father Posterior. He raises his arms, “Rise, my children. It is time for a sermon. Listen.”
The other two stand up straight and even from behind, they are easily identifiable as Max Pollux and Anthony Bsteen. Father Posterior stares from one to the other.
“Gentlemen. The importance of tonight cannot be understated. Tonight, we can say with great confidence that The Ozmanclaimed have arrived!”
“Preach to us, Father Posterior!”
“Preach to us, Father Posterior!”
“Your opponents tonight, Kung-Fu Boom, will assume that just because they have experienced the bright lights and the large arenas that they have an advantage over you. When in truth, they have but merely had a taste of what such a life brings. Being lackeys and understudies to men who were lackeys and understudies themselves not too long ago is not a feat.
Once already they tried to asset themselves on their own and their fate was to be condemned to a dumpster. They may try to reconcile such an experience as character building or a moment to grow from, but I know the truth. The truth is that they were in that dumpster because they are nothing more than trash!”
“That’s right!”
“Our words are our weapons, but what happened to Kung-Fu Boom at Lights Out was such a perfect metaphor that not even a skilled wordsmith as Max here could have crafted.”
“That’s right!”
“Gentlemen, turn. Talk to the people and show them why they would be right to believe in you just as I do. Give them a taste of what they can expect when you face Kung-Fu Boom tonight here in Tokyo…”
Father Posterior’s command gets a knowing and understanding nod from Max and Anthony. Anthony nods in Max’s direction, indicating that the latter would be better placed to speak first on the subject of their opponents.
“Look, we know how it is, boys. You’ve got a point to prove after being made to look like nothing more than a couple of scrubs constantly for months on end. You’re going to want to use The Ozmanclaimed as a chance to step up and show that you’re not just a pair of losers. We understand that.”
“What the two of you need to understand is that no one steps on The Ozmanclaimed. Kyle, your sensei might have told you to wax on, wax off and that’s why you seem so content to wipe the slate clean each time your inadequacy is exposed, but that will not be possible after we’ve taken that slate and chopped it in half like one of your wooden boards, son.”
“And Jimmy? Why are you letting this guy roll all over you? We’ve spent this entire time talking about damn kung fu or karate or whatever, when that’s just half of what your stuff is meant to be! You’re Jimmy Boom Boom! But what does that mean? I need someone to tell me because I haven’t got a damn clue, son!”
Anthony turns to Max and speaks under his breath, “Are we calling people ‘son’, now? Because I like this shade on us.”
“We sure are, son. Because that’s what we’re going to do to these boys when we fight them. We’re going to son them and they too can be children of Father Posterior.”
“Jimmy? Kyle? We hope you’ve enjoyed this lesson, but I am afraid that it is too late for the two of you to start learning now. We’ll see you in the ring where you can watch us teach you the ancient art of kicking your…”
“Posteriors,” Father Posterior leans in and says. The threesome then walk past the camera, with Father Posterior bringing up the rear and he extinguishes the candles with his fingers like a badass. The screen fades to black once more as the chorus of The Ozmanclaimed’s newest single plays once more, before slowly fading away.
“It’s the ancient art of kicking your ass.
No master now, so you gotta learn fast.
In the wrong game, won’t ever go far.
Everyone pour one out for Jimmy and Carl.”
“Isn’t his name Kyle?”
“Who gives a shit?”
Backstage at the Nippon Budokan in Tokyo, three men are shown stepping out of a rental car in the parking lot after arriving. These three men are collectively known as The Ozmanclaimed; Max Pollux, Anthony Bsteen and Father Posterior. Both Max and Anthony - set to take on Kung-Fu Boom tonight - carry their bags containing their ring gear. Father Posterior wears black robes along with his white collar. Anthony notices the camera finding them and then nudges Max. The duo grin as they approach those filming.
“Yo! Are you getting this? We’re rolling?” Max asks, patting his hand on Anthony’s chest. He waits for an answer, which is affirmative. “Listen, the Ozmanclaimed are in the house tonight here in Tokyo, and we’ve got something real exciting that we want everyone around the world to see.”
Bsteen steps forward and addresses the camera, talking in a style not too dissimilar to a television salesperson, “That’s right. The Ozmanclaimed want to show you all our brand new music video, which we have dedicated to our opponents tonight, Kung-Fu Boom.”
Bsteen places his fist in his hand and slowly bows his head at the front of the trio. Pollux and Father Posterior do the same thing. The entire scene reeks of insincerity. “So, Jimmy and Kyle, we hope you’re paying attention, boys! Without further adieu, The Ozmanclaimed would like to proudly present… ‘The Ancient Art of Kicking Your Ass.’”
With that, the scene fades to black for a few seconds and then a pre-recorded video begins to play/.
The music video begins in the setting of a church in Japan. Leaves fall from the trees in the church’s courtyard and land on the floor delicately. Three men walk through the gate and are shown from behind; but they are of course Max Pollux, Anthony Bsteen and Father Posterior. From the perspective of a cloaked man inside the church, the three are shown walking between the gravestones towards the church entrance. Max’s rapping plays over shots of the three protagonists walking inside the church.
“Kung-Fu Boom, Kung-Fu Pow. Kung-Fu Who? Kung-Fu How?
Ozmanclaimed in the house, Kicking doors down.
Kung-Fu What? Kung-Fu Why? What’s with the damn questions?
You sensei got fired, now we’re teaching you lessons!”
“Under the rising sun, Ozmanclaimed come out to play.
The fans will have a huge blast, like their guy Shinzo Abe.
And you’re Kung-Fu Boom? Watching you is a kung fu recession.
We gotta slap you so bad, pushing you into deep depression.”
From the shadows, various men dressed as ninjas approach the Ozmanclaimed, and together Max and Anthony begin to punch and kick them to repel them away from the group. The fighting is interspersed with shots of them both inside and outside the church performing the chorus to the camera.
“It’s the ancient art of kicking your ass.
No master now, so you gotta learn fast.
In the wrong game, won’t ever go far.
Everyone pour one out for Jimmy and Carl.”
Two men wearing gis stand at the back of the church and watch the carnage unfold in front of them as ninjas as thrown over pews and Max smashes an ornamental vase over one assailant’s head. It doesn’t matter who these people are, as the ones that matter are the ones at the back of the church.
“You found your home in the dumpster; flat out trash.
We’re stars in the gang, man fuck Aly and Krash!
Watch our mouths because our weapons are words.
Posterior and the boys gonna flush some turds.”
“Nine tails, nine males, we’ll take on all comers.
Ozmanclaimed loaf of bread, you’re nothing but crumbers.
How will you even compare with your goofy sitcom looking asses?
We’re gonna melt our gold chains and have you drink it like Crassus.
Facing you chumps is an insult and we have half the mind to say it.
The kitsune who booked us together must have nine tails but no wit.”
Anthony is shown gasping in a B-reel shot over the last lyric. The Ozmanclaimed are close to clearing out all of the goons standing in their way.
“It’s the ancient art of kicking your ass.
No master now, so you gotta learn fast.
In the wrong game, won’t ever go far.
Everyone pour one out for Jimmy and Carl.”
“We harmonize kicks with bars because we’re flat out superior.
And we’ll help you two pray like our homeboy Father Posterior.
You’ll already be on your knees after we beat you black and blue;
Just stick a sword in your hands and you’ll be good for seppuku.”
“Going too far? There is no holding back, it’s our rapper’s bushido.
Our words are like a torpedo, no matter if it's in Japan or Puerto Rico.
Because two white-belt white boys can’t square up to this pair.
Oz-y-man-dias-claimed, listen to our works, ye mighty and despair.”
Max and Anthony reach the two men at the back of the church at long last. They put up their best fighting stances, but it is clear that neither of them want the smoke and they barge past The Ozmanclaimed and try to escape, but Father Posterior knocks them both down at the same time as they attempt to escape.
“It’s the ancient art of kicking your ass.
No master now, so you gotta learn fast.
In the wrong game, won’t ever go far.
Everyone pour one out for Jimmy and Carl.”
The video ends with Max and Anthony standing in front of the church, surrounded by the defeated ninjas. They cross their arms and remain unflinching as Father Posterior pours holy water over their heads from golden chalices.
———————————————————————————————
Returning elsewhere backstage, the focus is on a dark room which is dimly lit. The only sources of light are the candles at the back of the room, flickering and dancing. Barely visible are two figures kneeling on the ground in front of the candles and the small makeshift alters. A third robed figure emerges from the shadows and walks past the camera. In the scarce light, it is just about possible to identify this man as Father Posterior. He raises his arms, “Rise, my children. It is time for a sermon. Listen.”
The other two stand up straight and even from behind, they are easily identifiable as Max Pollux and Anthony Bsteen. Father Posterior stares from one to the other.
“Gentlemen. The importance of tonight cannot be understated. Tonight, we can say with great confidence that The Ozmanclaimed have arrived!”
“Preach to us, Father Posterior!”
“Preach to us, Father Posterior!”
“Your opponents tonight, Kung-Fu Boom, will assume that just because they have experienced the bright lights and the large arenas that they have an advantage over you. When in truth, they have but merely had a taste of what such a life brings. Being lackeys and understudies to men who were lackeys and understudies themselves not too long ago is not a feat.
Once already they tried to asset themselves on their own and their fate was to be condemned to a dumpster. They may try to reconcile such an experience as character building or a moment to grow from, but I know the truth. The truth is that they were in that dumpster because they are nothing more than trash!”
“That’s right!”
“Our words are our weapons, but what happened to Kung-Fu Boom at Lights Out was such a perfect metaphor that not even a skilled wordsmith as Max here could have crafted.”
“That’s right!”
“Gentlemen, turn. Talk to the people and show them why they would be right to believe in you just as I do. Give them a taste of what they can expect when you face Kung-Fu Boom tonight here in Tokyo…”
Father Posterior’s command gets a knowing and understanding nod from Max and Anthony. Anthony nods in Max’s direction, indicating that the latter would be better placed to speak first on the subject of their opponents.
“Look, we know how it is, boys. You’ve got a point to prove after being made to look like nothing more than a couple of scrubs constantly for months on end. You’re going to want to use The Ozmanclaimed as a chance to step up and show that you’re not just a pair of losers. We understand that.”
“What the two of you need to understand is that no one steps on The Ozmanclaimed. Kyle, your sensei might have told you to wax on, wax off and that’s why you seem so content to wipe the slate clean each time your inadequacy is exposed, but that will not be possible after we’ve taken that slate and chopped it in half like one of your wooden boards, son.”
“And Jimmy? Why are you letting this guy roll all over you? We’ve spent this entire time talking about damn kung fu or karate or whatever, when that’s just half of what your stuff is meant to be! You’re Jimmy Boom Boom! But what does that mean? I need someone to tell me because I haven’t got a damn clue, son!”
Anthony turns to Max and speaks under his breath, “Are we calling people ‘son’, now? Because I like this shade on us.”
“We sure are, son. Because that’s what we’re going to do to these boys when we fight them. We’re going to son them and they too can be children of Father Posterior.”
“Jimmy? Kyle? We hope you’ve enjoyed this lesson, but I am afraid that it is too late for the two of you to start learning now. We’ll see you in the ring where you can watch us teach you the ancient art of kicking your…”
“Posteriors,” Father Posterior leans in and says. The threesome then walk past the camera, with Father Posterior bringing up the rear and he extinguishes the candles with his fingers like a badass. The screen fades to black once more as the chorus of The Ozmanclaimed’s newest single plays once more, before slowly fading away.
“It’s the ancient art of kicking your ass.
No master now, so you gotta learn fast.
In the wrong game, won’t ever go far.
Everyone pour one out for Jimmy and Carl.”
“Isn’t his name Kyle?”
“Who gives a shit?”