A BRIEF INTRODUCTION

[Deleted]

A BRIEF INTRODUCTION
BY: JPG

Jean Paul Green is standing in front of the St. Lawrence River looking out over the its deep blue waves. He takes a deep breath in through his nose. The smell of salt water fill his lungs followed by the sour aroma of pollution. The smell is sickening and brings with it memories of a youth in revolt. Jean Paul Screw up his face at the thoughts and the putrid stench. He takes his phone out of his pocket and launches the Vimeo App - It’s time.

I hate how the smell of my beloved city burns my nose. There was a time, not so long ago when the air was sweet and fresh. Quebec City once held the scent of summer flowers, clean winds, and crisp waters deep into the winter months. Now those scents are gone, replaced by the sour and acrid aroma of the invaders, The Anglo. They came in droves to my beautiful francophone haven until there was no other choice but to pander to them. Like a plague they swept over my city and consumed it until what remained was a scab of its former glory.

Jean Paul picks a pretend scab off his elbow and flicks to the ground. He emphasizes the point by spitting on the scab and then stomping on it. His heel twists into the dirt with intent leaving behind a deep boot print.

And what did the English speaking invaders do after they claimed my home for their own? They spread rumors about my people. Painted us as weak and cowardly until whole world believed it. My proud French ancestry bastardized in one generation by a bunch of mouth breathing rednecks and ignorant halfwits. Hundreds of years of military supremacy and near global domination swept under the rug to better suit your narrative - That the French are cowards.

Again JPG spits on the ground. His face is a mixture of frustration and disgust. It’s clear that he is passionate about the subject. His eyes burn fueled by the fire in his belly - the fires of hatred. Yes, It’s safe to say that JPG hates all Anglos. Ironic? Yes, but the irony is lost on him.

That’s what has brought me to FGA. Hell, it’s pretty much the sole purpose that's driven me my whole life. The need to prove myself and my people as the warriors we are. To reclaim our rightful place on the hierarchy of those to be feared. The french are not cowards or weaklings. We do not run and hide from any threat. We are the threat. I am the threat and I promise you all this, it isn’t an empty one. When I say I’m gonna beat your ass, than you can take that to the bank. When I say I’m gonna make you tap out, that’s a promise you can bet the farm on. And when I say that I’m the man to be feared around here, well, you’re best to believe that too.

The look of disgust on JPG’s face twists into a coy smile. Thinking about hurting people always brings a smile to his face. They way the scream out and beg for mercy brings him close to the brink of orgasm. Pain, is his pleasure.

The truth is this, I’m better than all of you. I’m better than the fans in the seats, the wrestlers in the back, and I’m sure as hell better than FGA as a whole. Hell, I’ve been dominate in everything I’ve ever done in my life. From the street to the cage to the squared circle, everywhere I’ve gone, I’ve dominated. FGA will be no exception. My partner and I will run rough shot over The Lion’s Den and then move on to the rest of FGA. We’re going to leave a wake in out path the like of which has never been seen in this backwoods federation. La Connexion Française, The French Connection for those of you to stupid to piece the name together, is going to be the biggest draw this place has ever seen.

JPG’s voice is building in tempo and volume. He’s nearly screaming into the phone at this point. Spit flies out of his mouth and splatter on the lens of the phone that’s recording him. He wipes it away absently not letting it sway his momentum. JPG is so excited that he slips in and out of french as he speaks.

E suis le passé, le cadeau, et l'avenir de la lutte prefessional. I am the past, the present, and the future of professional wrestling. This is my destiny and no one is going to stop me - bet on it. Death to the English invaders. Long live the french connection! Mort aux envahisseurs anglais. Vive la connexion française!

The picture of the video goes wild, then blue, and finally cuts out abruptly to black as JPG tosses the phone into the river in anger.

FIN!