A backstage interviewer happened to be recording as the "Corn Cob Copperheads", also known as the Triple C, began making their way to the locker room, interrupted by the reporter as they passed by.
The pair was very flamboyant, a young boy of about nine or ten, accompanied by a big and muscled up wrestler, each wearing matching zubaz pants with popcorn rhinestone accents, with leather jackets and aviator sunglasses. Braeden sported a muscle shirt saying "Kid Kernel" under his jacket while Salem was bare chested. Both appeared annoyed at the interruption.
"What?!" Salem demanded from the interviewer, gesturing to his tag team partner. "You wanna get in our way, the greatest tag team in this company, when we're getting ready for a match?!"
The boy stepped up as if to assault the reporter, but Salem held Braeden back as the timid and visibly frightened man replied.
"W-Well, sirs, I w-was just wanting to a-ask about your uh-upcoming match. With no word on who Bison's p-partner is, are you concerned who you might have to f-face?"
Salem lowered his glasses and glared at the man, silently shaming him for having the audacity to ask them that as he leaned into the microphone.
"Ooooh, you think we're scared, huh? Think Bison's got us SHAKIN' IN OUR BOOTS, RIGHT?! Well, let me tell you a secret, yeah, and listen up because I'm only gonna tell you this once, so don't come asking again - the CREAM CORN always RISES WITH THE CROP!" Salem exclaimed, throwing his hands out as Braeden flexed for the camera, a serious look on his youthful face.
"See, me and Kid Kernel here, yeah! We're taking oooover, huh, and it don't matter WHO he's got in his corner, cuz we might be shuckin' but we ain't jiving, NO - and when all's said and done, it won't be no POP SECRET what we do to HIM! DIG IT?!"
Glaring at the reporter, Salem pushed his glasses back up and walked past him, bumping the smaller man with his shoulder. Braeden strutted to the microphone, speaking briefly into it as he passed.
"Pop Guys, out." he proclaimed, walking out of frame as the interviewer was left frazzled.
The pair was very flamboyant, a young boy of about nine or ten, accompanied by a big and muscled up wrestler, each wearing matching zubaz pants with popcorn rhinestone accents, with leather jackets and aviator sunglasses. Braeden sported a muscle shirt saying "Kid Kernel" under his jacket while Salem was bare chested. Both appeared annoyed at the interruption.
"What?!" Salem demanded from the interviewer, gesturing to his tag team partner. "You wanna get in our way, the greatest tag team in this company, when we're getting ready for a match?!"
The boy stepped up as if to assault the reporter, but Salem held Braeden back as the timid and visibly frightened man replied.
"W-Well, sirs, I w-was just wanting to a-ask about your uh-upcoming match. With no word on who Bison's p-partner is, are you concerned who you might have to f-face?"
Salem lowered his glasses and glared at the man, silently shaming him for having the audacity to ask them that as he leaned into the microphone.
"Ooooh, you think we're scared, huh? Think Bison's got us SHAKIN' IN OUR BOOTS, RIGHT?! Well, let me tell you a secret, yeah, and listen up because I'm only gonna tell you this once, so don't come asking again - the CREAM CORN always RISES WITH THE CROP!" Salem exclaimed, throwing his hands out as Braeden flexed for the camera, a serious look on his youthful face.
"See, me and Kid Kernel here, yeah! We're taking oooover, huh, and it don't matter WHO he's got in his corner, cuz we might be shuckin' but we ain't jiving, NO - and when all's said and done, it won't be no POP SECRET what we do to HIM! DIG IT?!"
Glaring at the reporter, Salem pushed his glasses back up and walked past him, bumping the smaller man with his shoulder. Braeden strutted to the microphone, speaking briefly into it as he passed.
"Pop Guys, out." he proclaimed, walking out of frame as the interviewer was left frazzled.
