Net Worth
Feb 18, 2016 19:09:43 GMT -5
Post by pimp on Feb 18, 2016 19:09:43 GMT -5
Net Worth
February 16, 2016
Chicago, IL
Location: Kucci Mane Kuwop’s Brickhouse
I had to fly out to Chicago. It was going to be one of the last “monthly check ups” I had to give. The second weekend, I had to fly out to Kenny’s spot and present an earnings report. Even though Rikichet and Kitasumi would funnel all of my income directly, I still needed to provide invoices of everything I was doing. This included expense receipts and an estimated allowance for what I needed for the next month. Kenny’s Rich Homie model rivaled Fortune 500 companies and who could blame him? Since him and Nicky “inherited” operations after Vino’s death, the ship was starting to tighten. Cappodona and Travesty, the twin guards, were relieved of their duties. Haven’t even seen or heard from either of those guys in months. Who knows what happened there. Everything’s essentially in Kenny’s hands since Nick made a conscious decision to step away and focus on modeling. Totally was my idea, I’ve always said he’s more than organized crime. He’s a diamond in the rough…but that’s another story.
Truth be told, I’m glad all of this has been happening. From getting fucked up out in the Dominican Republic to rehab to now, shit hasn’t been so bad. This 400K debt has been melting away before I knew it. With the help of Bank$quiat, I’ve been cleaning the streets of Miami. Collecting debts from everyone: the clubs, the pubs, the bitches, even the China shop me and E.Rose trashed (we walked in and it looked as if nothing ever happened). Not to mention FGA checks…and baby those just keep getting fatter and fatter. Title defenses, media appearances, checks just to fucking show up and watch the kiddies play in the sandbox from the monitors.
Now Pantene’s trying to get me to pretend I use their trash ass fucking products for a commercial. Unread email from Proactiv. As if I’d touch anything related to Adam Levine. Garbage, but I digress. This entire predicament has motivated me to be the best me I’ve ever been! I work harder in the gym and Damon still hasn’t fucked off so there’s that. Extra motivation to take better care of my hos. Extra motivation to break muthafuckers in half on network television. It’s almost a shame that my debt is nearly paid off. Truth be told it doesn’t matter, because as long as I have to deal with those fucks sober, I’ll be pissed. As long as they continue to doubt me after I continue winning, I’ll have that drive.
Besides, I’ll actually get to keep all of this fucking money I’m making…for a change. For now, though, it was just another cold night in Chi-Town. We were outside freezing balls on Big Kucci’s patio. Santos and some of his gang were getting a bonfire started while me, Bank$, Rikichet, Kitasumi and the boss were gathered together. The Goats had told Kenny about the situation with Duski, and he’s been in disbelief ever since.
“Damn…not the lil homie…” Kenny lifted the hood from his sweater over his head. “How ya’ll ain’t know that shit was goin’ on?”
All I could do was sigh. Bank$ spoke up. “Shit big homie, I was onto that nigga fo’ a minute just needed proof and shit. That safe had the money from the gay club heist a while ago bruh we forgot bout that shit.”
“You make it sound like a goddamn remote ya’ll ain’t realize was missing. That’s 50 racks, and he had that shit ready to takeoff.” Kenny lit up a blunt and sat down on his rocking couch. “Lucky ya’ll niggas got him soon. How ya’ll figure it all out?”
“Shiiiit Duski was loving up on that ho Candice.”
I cut Bank$ off, adding more to the story. “Yeah…remember when I got crazy fucked up and started beating her ass at that hotel party? Well she started plotting back on me ever since until one day when she just up and disappeared. I thought she had just gotten sick of disrespecting me and was trying to fair out on her own.” I always make the mistake of being too nice and seeing good in people who have nothing but ill-intent towards me. Kenny smoked on the blunt looking a bit confused trying to piece everything together.
“Mhmm…me Richie and Flex ran up on that bitch as soon as Tony hit me up saying the stash was gone.” The boss started coughing at the mention of his brother.
“RICHIE!? Ya’ll got Richie fat ass out the house to put in some work???”
Leaning forward intrigued, he passed the blunt to Bank$ who laughed. “Mhmm…told his ass we was goin’ to Golden Coral and had him pull up on the bitch like he was trying to holla. Ya know…to throw her off and shit. It fucked us up cuz she had a homegirl with her too. I ain’t seen that bitch befo’ but me and Flex was strapped up so it ain’t matter. Long story short we ran up on her like where the cash and what nigga helped you get it cuz ain’t no way she was smart enough to do that shit alone.” Bank$ hit the blunt and blew it out. “Bitch said it was Duski…I’m sorry. Donald.” He says in a mocking voice causing slight laughter.
“Damn that’s some crazy shit.” Kenny grabbed the blunt from Bank$ before looking up at The Goats. “Get the bag out.” On command Kiko handed Riki a large duffle bag who handed it to Kenny who dumped it on the floor in front of us. “Aight,” he says as he opens the bag, “so we got all that 50K plus another 15 combined from your checks and another 75 in collections…” Kenny sifts through the bag counting a mountain of rubber banded stacks of cash. As he counts he looks amazed. “Well damn lil homie, you ain’t got but another like 25 left on this tab.”
My eyes lit up, seems everything’s been going by so fast. “See Kucci sweetie? I told you I’m always good for it!” Kenny shot me a blank stare along with Riki and Kiko. I crack an innocent smile and they’re unamused. “Look I know this shouldn’t have went down the way it all has but I honestly want to say to all of you…thank you.”
“AWWWWW SHIT” Kenny and Bank$ sighed in unison.
“Here comes Oscar performer.” Riki said under his breath to Kiko.
I smiled and waved them off. “Calm down guys this isn’t me getting all sentimental and shit I promise. But seriously without you guys and Fran and E.Rose and Nicola…I’d probably be dead…”
They all give me blank stares.
“…Ok I’d definitely be dead BUT! The point I’m making is that lately, you guys have pushed me to the top of my game. I never noticed how much money I could actually make because I’ve never had it taken away from me before.” I started to choke up. “You have noooooo idea how hard it is being the most sought after talent on the FGA roster.”
Kenny hits the blunt and laughs. “You ain’t saying or doing shit I ain’t did already. Thing is, I did it first. Made ya’ll niggas cool. But I admit, you lasted a whole lot longer in this shit than we thought you would. Guess you actually taking the shit serious and not as some runway fashion show.”
“Well I mean…my entrance to the ring alone brings ratings.”
“Yeah whatever nigga probably only because you got some hos coming out wit’cha. Wop ain’t for none of them theatrics. Niggas knew what it was when that Brand New Guy hit, I was beatin’ they ass. I ain’t need to get in nobody head calling them honey boo boo and shit.” I shook my head as everyone else enjoyed a laugh. Kenny almost passed me the blunt but caught himself and passed it over to Bank$. “Tell me something though.”
“Something though.” I retorted and Kenny put his middle finger up. “Hahaha what?”
His face turned real serious for a moment. “What’s this shit I’m hearing about you giving Noelly a hard time. You know that’s…” Kenny turned around, looking through the windows of his house to see if his fiancé was around. “You know that’s wifey right?”
“Please…I never understood what you see in her that’s so special. She’s not really all that good…” Kenny laughed.
“And what was you when I was in the ring? Trash. Shawty been putting in some work for a minute. Far from the worse that place got. I don’t know…was I like this when I was out there in that ring every week? I don’t remember deliberately making someone else life hell…especially if I already was a champ. Evil shit.”
I shook my head. “It’s not like that at all Kenny-baby. I actually like Noelle Smith a lot, but she just needs that extra kick in the ass. No one’s motivated her to break out of her comfort zone yet. Really, I’m just dying for some fucking competition, I figured I’d take her and make her a star.” Rubbing my hands together I shrug. “Now I’m not so sure if she was ever worth the trouble.”
It’s been busy FGA. It’s been very busy for your beloved Pride Champion. It feels like I’m being pulled in so many directions. Everyone wants a piece of the Scandalous One. Sure Zero and Cyncity are headlining Canadian Stampede, and sure they’re fighting for the top prize. But when you look at the stats. When you look at the numbers. When you listen to what everyone is talking about. When you peep the facts, there’s only one man that moves the needle around here.
Carmine. Tony Carmine. Scandalous Tony Carmine. Sunshine Scandalous Tony Carmine.
This match I have coming up is historic. It’s a must see, because for the first time ever, the Scandalous One’s back is against the wall. Noelle Smith is unlike any challenger I ever had before. She’s been handpicked. She’s been chosen. I looked into her sweet eyes and I thought I saw someone who deserved all the opportunities in the world. I thought if none of the rest of you bitches had the balls to step to me, I would reach down and grace a wonderful friend with the chance of a lifetime. Truthfully, I wanted to award this match to Cindy but her sights were set on the world title, and who could blame her? There’s been too many times that I’ve sat here and watched the same boring, talentless, undeserving sons of bitches get title shots without earning it. Too many talented stars get left in the dust for whoever management wants to show pity to at the moment. That’s why the Scandalous One is always yawning when I watch Vertigo. Each and every show I see nothing but people I’ve beaten parade around pretending to be hot shit. Each and every show there’s either a fucking noob like Dexter Jacobs desperately trying to get attention or it’s a pathetic little cunt like Fujiko Mine who just can’t seem to keep my name out of her mouth. After laying Cannon to rest, I vowed that NO MORE! No more will I hand out shots to people who just try to rile me up. No longer would I fall victim to people trying to leech off my stardom, trying to sneak away my precious Pride belt and trying to knock me off of my throne. I made a promise to myself and every single one of my adoring fans that their PRIDE champion wasn’t going to keep degrading his belt for little peons way below his league.
How fucking stupid was I to think that Noelle was any different?
In perhaps a mistake that will go down in the deep depths of my memoirs, next to losing to Cami D. Magna, I was a fool to ever trust you. I expected retaliation for attacking you first, honey. I understand that when dealing with me, it’s smart to have backup and affiliations. What I didn’t expect was the lack of follow through. I WANTED YOU TO GIVE ME A MUTHAFUCKING CHALLENGE! And what do you do? Burned out. In fact, the only thing that’s changed since then is the fact that I’ve been losing sleep over whether or not to publicly mutilate you in front of the world. I’ve been losing sleep over whether or not to completely damn the rules of Pride when I get my hands on you and just pummel you away. It’s been a constant debate if I should just treat you like I’ve treated everyone else: with no remorse.
But that’s everything you want, right boo?
You want the Scandalous One to walk into our match whitehot. You want to pretend to play the little innocent cinderella. You want me to be so hellbent on destroying you that you take my title through the skin of your teeth…or a technicality of some sort. Honey you’re just not worth it. You’re not worth throwing away everything I’ve been building. Beating you to shit will give me no type of satisfaction whatsoever. You’re not even one of these overhyped fly by nights. No one acknowledges Noelle Smith for being the standout. Looks fade and everyone sees you as just another subpar, mediocre model playing pretend-fighter. Feels like I'm facing Tonka Tits all over again.
That's why this match is dedicated to Annie Zellor.
When I saw you beat Annie, the Scandalous One was actually quite impressed. It propelled me to reach out to you, because if Annie could learn from yours truly, surely you were also worthy of learning. Learning how to get to that next level. How to take that extra step and tap into that killer instinct. It’s no secret that I’ve shown Annie a fair amount of “tough love” in the past, but none of it was done with any real malice. I looked at her, and I saw someone who was being taken advantage of. People were pulling her every which way, and she was beginning to lose sight of why we’re all here in the first place. She didn’t realize what really mattered at the time. W’s and Championships. Sure I manhandled her and called her every name in the book. I pretended like she didn’t mean shit to me, but there was a method to the madness. Because Annie Zellor is a Rich Homie…a friend. Because Annie Zellor deserves to thrive in this business, and she wasn’t going to do it by sucking on Laurel’s saggy nipples and playing Candyland with everyone. Now Annie isn’t nearly as naive as she used to be.
I know that because she was one of the first people to come up to me, concerned about you, Noe. Little Homie Starbucks noticed that I noticed a change in your attitude and she felt assured that she wasn’t the only one. It was right around the time the Scandalous One beat you in the finals of the Lion’s Cup. Right around the time you were letting your stunt double make a name for YOU in this company. Also right around the time you (or your sister so still you) started disrespecting me. I caught on to the little side comment you made months back about how I was a fake friend for not reaching out to you for a job well done after Above and Beyond. Hurt my feelings.
Here I am, celebrating the biggest accomplishment of my career and I can’t enjoy it because I won at your expense? Bitch you were lucky to make it to the finals of that tournament and everyone knows it. Who the fuck do you think you are? What made you think you deserved to even be in the competition, much less making it to the finals? You should be thanking the heavens you stumbled upon the possibility of even winning. But instead, it’s “Fuck Tony because he’s supposed to be my friend and he showed no mercy towards me!”
How fucking stupid was I to think better of you, Noelle?
But I get it. It’s just another case of everyone praying on my downfall. Everyone banking on my stock to come crashing down. It’s people like you who love people like me as long they’re in my good graces. You loved me when I was trashing anyone else on the roster. You couldn’t wait to tag me in those corny ass MCM tweets, because you were one of the few people who could talk to me without getting chewed up and spat out. Now that you’re on the other side of the coin, you’re not only seeing just what I’m capable of, you’re feeling it. Before, I just wanted to teach you the same lesson I taught Annie. I just wanted to take you out of the world of naivety and show you what it means to truly be one of the elite forces in FGA. Seems like you’re content right where you are: bottom of the fucking barrel. This, however, has been a very valuable lesson to the Scandalous One. It’s the last time I gracefully extend the olive branch. You've taught me that there truly are no friends in this business. A sad reality.
So let’s just get this shit over with.
Sweetheart, you and I both know this isn’t what you want. That little tirade on me was the only card you had in your hand, and you went all in. Yet, here my fine ass is with no bruises. No scars. No aches. Ever since, there’s been zilch. No matter how many people you try to get involved on your side, you’ve yet to convince anyone that you’re even remotely a threat to my Pride title reign. That Fuji water leakage you’ve had for as long as you’ve been around here? I squashed directly one week after she squashed you. You’ve got the lowliest of losers in the FGA beating you and trying to stake claim to my championship by default. Do you know how embarrassing it was to watch Danny Diamond stomp all over the pretty princess I was about to crown with a title shot? So much so that I’ve invited him to a special viewing of our match. I’m going to teach that kid what it really means to make a statement. In fact, I’m going to teach all of you what it means to make a statement because it seems as though the definition is getting lost in the mail over time.
Making a statement doesn’t mean staging some fucking magic trick with your siblings.
Making a statement doesn’t mean you hop on a has-been-actually-never-was’ bandwagon like Kerry Windsor for all of his dated and irrelevant wrestling advice. (must be a trend)
Making a statement doesn’t mean throwing some weak ass kendo stick around in my face.
Making a statement is going out and doing exactly what I do every week. WIN! With no excuses, no friends, no cosigners, no one coming to my defense. I WIN! With nothing in my corner by sheer talent and beauty, I’ve overcame every single odd and always have gotten even. Seems like you’re hungry to beat me, Noe, but that’s all you’re hungry for. Not once have you shown a legitimate desire to be the FGA Pride Champion, because you know if by the grace of the almighty you beat me…it only gets harder for you. Anyone can win a title, but none of you fucks in this company can keep one. Fact. None of you can go through the bullshit that I do, and still manage to hear his music at the end of each night. You can’t honestly think you’re ready to be the one that takes the rug out from under me. There’s still so much for you to learn and you lost your chance to get a real teacher. You’re on your own. That means none of those fucking losers who gas your head up will be about to save your ankle when I’m trying to break it out of place…peacefully, with a smile on my oh so gorgeous face. I won’t be angry when that bell rings, but I will be relentless. I’m determined to make you think twice before taking my kindness for weakness ever again. The Stampede is about adding another notch to my legacy and becoming the longest reigning FGA Pride Champion of all time…with the most amount of defenses to boot. So I wouldn’t make this too personal, kay hun? You were just handpicked to fill a fucking quota and nothing more.
Facts Only.
February 16, 2016
Chicago, IL
Location: Kucci Mane Kuwop’s Brickhouse
I had to fly out to Chicago. It was going to be one of the last “monthly check ups” I had to give. The second weekend, I had to fly out to Kenny’s spot and present an earnings report. Even though Rikichet and Kitasumi would funnel all of my income directly, I still needed to provide invoices of everything I was doing. This included expense receipts and an estimated allowance for what I needed for the next month. Kenny’s Rich Homie model rivaled Fortune 500 companies and who could blame him? Since him and Nicky “inherited” operations after Vino’s death, the ship was starting to tighten. Cappodona and Travesty, the twin guards, were relieved of their duties. Haven’t even seen or heard from either of those guys in months. Who knows what happened there. Everything’s essentially in Kenny’s hands since Nick made a conscious decision to step away and focus on modeling. Totally was my idea, I’ve always said he’s more than organized crime. He’s a diamond in the rough…but that’s another story.
Truth be told, I’m glad all of this has been happening. From getting fucked up out in the Dominican Republic to rehab to now, shit hasn’t been so bad. This 400K debt has been melting away before I knew it. With the help of Bank$quiat, I’ve been cleaning the streets of Miami. Collecting debts from everyone: the clubs, the pubs, the bitches, even the China shop me and E.Rose trashed (we walked in and it looked as if nothing ever happened). Not to mention FGA checks…and baby those just keep getting fatter and fatter. Title defenses, media appearances, checks just to fucking show up and watch the kiddies play in the sandbox from the monitors.
Now Pantene’s trying to get me to pretend I use their trash ass fucking products for a commercial. Unread email from Proactiv. As if I’d touch anything related to Adam Levine. Garbage, but I digress. This entire predicament has motivated me to be the best me I’ve ever been! I work harder in the gym and Damon still hasn’t fucked off so there’s that. Extra motivation to take better care of my hos. Extra motivation to break muthafuckers in half on network television. It’s almost a shame that my debt is nearly paid off. Truth be told it doesn’t matter, because as long as I have to deal with those fucks sober, I’ll be pissed. As long as they continue to doubt me after I continue winning, I’ll have that drive.
Besides, I’ll actually get to keep all of this fucking money I’m making…for a change. For now, though, it was just another cold night in Chi-Town. We were outside freezing balls on Big Kucci’s patio. Santos and some of his gang were getting a bonfire started while me, Bank$, Rikichet, Kitasumi and the boss were gathered together. The Goats had told Kenny about the situation with Duski, and he’s been in disbelief ever since.
“Damn…not the lil homie…” Kenny lifted the hood from his sweater over his head. “How ya’ll ain’t know that shit was goin’ on?”
All I could do was sigh. Bank$ spoke up. “Shit big homie, I was onto that nigga fo’ a minute just needed proof and shit. That safe had the money from the gay club heist a while ago bruh we forgot bout that shit.”
“You make it sound like a goddamn remote ya’ll ain’t realize was missing. That’s 50 racks, and he had that shit ready to takeoff.” Kenny lit up a blunt and sat down on his rocking couch. “Lucky ya’ll niggas got him soon. How ya’ll figure it all out?”
“Shiiiit Duski was loving up on that ho Candice.”
I cut Bank$ off, adding more to the story. “Yeah…remember when I got crazy fucked up and started beating her ass at that hotel party? Well she started plotting back on me ever since until one day when she just up and disappeared. I thought she had just gotten sick of disrespecting me and was trying to fair out on her own.” I always make the mistake of being too nice and seeing good in people who have nothing but ill-intent towards me. Kenny smoked on the blunt looking a bit confused trying to piece everything together.
“Mhmm…me Richie and Flex ran up on that bitch as soon as Tony hit me up saying the stash was gone.” The boss started coughing at the mention of his brother.
“RICHIE!? Ya’ll got Richie fat ass out the house to put in some work???”
Leaning forward intrigued, he passed the blunt to Bank$ who laughed. “Mhmm…told his ass we was goin’ to Golden Coral and had him pull up on the bitch like he was trying to holla. Ya know…to throw her off and shit. It fucked us up cuz she had a homegirl with her too. I ain’t seen that bitch befo’ but me and Flex was strapped up so it ain’t matter. Long story short we ran up on her like where the cash and what nigga helped you get it cuz ain’t no way she was smart enough to do that shit alone.” Bank$ hit the blunt and blew it out. “Bitch said it was Duski…I’m sorry. Donald.” He says in a mocking voice causing slight laughter.
“Damn that’s some crazy shit.” Kenny grabbed the blunt from Bank$ before looking up at The Goats. “Get the bag out.” On command Kiko handed Riki a large duffle bag who handed it to Kenny who dumped it on the floor in front of us. “Aight,” he says as he opens the bag, “so we got all that 50K plus another 15 combined from your checks and another 75 in collections…” Kenny sifts through the bag counting a mountain of rubber banded stacks of cash. As he counts he looks amazed. “Well damn lil homie, you ain’t got but another like 25 left on this tab.”
My eyes lit up, seems everything’s been going by so fast. “See Kucci sweetie? I told you I’m always good for it!” Kenny shot me a blank stare along with Riki and Kiko. I crack an innocent smile and they’re unamused. “Look I know this shouldn’t have went down the way it all has but I honestly want to say to all of you…thank you.”
“AWWWWW SHIT” Kenny and Bank$ sighed in unison.
“Here comes Oscar performer.” Riki said under his breath to Kiko.
I smiled and waved them off. “Calm down guys this isn’t me getting all sentimental and shit I promise. But seriously without you guys and Fran and E.Rose and Nicola…I’d probably be dead…”
They all give me blank stares.
“…Ok I’d definitely be dead BUT! The point I’m making is that lately, you guys have pushed me to the top of my game. I never noticed how much money I could actually make because I’ve never had it taken away from me before.” I started to choke up. “You have noooooo idea how hard it is being the most sought after talent on the FGA roster.”
Kenny hits the blunt and laughs. “You ain’t saying or doing shit I ain’t did already. Thing is, I did it first. Made ya’ll niggas cool. But I admit, you lasted a whole lot longer in this shit than we thought you would. Guess you actually taking the shit serious and not as some runway fashion show.”
“Well I mean…my entrance to the ring alone brings ratings.”
“Yeah whatever nigga probably only because you got some hos coming out wit’cha. Wop ain’t for none of them theatrics. Niggas knew what it was when that Brand New Guy hit, I was beatin’ they ass. I ain’t need to get in nobody head calling them honey boo boo and shit.” I shook my head as everyone else enjoyed a laugh. Kenny almost passed me the blunt but caught himself and passed it over to Bank$. “Tell me something though.”
“Something though.” I retorted and Kenny put his middle finger up. “Hahaha what?”
His face turned real serious for a moment. “What’s this shit I’m hearing about you giving Noelly a hard time. You know that’s…” Kenny turned around, looking through the windows of his house to see if his fiancé was around. “You know that’s wifey right?”
“Please…I never understood what you see in her that’s so special. She’s not really all that good…” Kenny laughed.
“And what was you when I was in the ring? Trash. Shawty been putting in some work for a minute. Far from the worse that place got. I don’t know…was I like this when I was out there in that ring every week? I don’t remember deliberately making someone else life hell…especially if I already was a champ. Evil shit.”
I shook my head. “It’s not like that at all Kenny-baby. I actually like Noelle Smith a lot, but she just needs that extra kick in the ass. No one’s motivated her to break out of her comfort zone yet. Really, I’m just dying for some fucking competition, I figured I’d take her and make her a star.” Rubbing my hands together I shrug. “Now I’m not so sure if she was ever worth the trouble.”
It’s been busy FGA. It’s been very busy for your beloved Pride Champion. It feels like I’m being pulled in so many directions. Everyone wants a piece of the Scandalous One. Sure Zero and Cyncity are headlining Canadian Stampede, and sure they’re fighting for the top prize. But when you look at the stats. When you look at the numbers. When you listen to what everyone is talking about. When you peep the facts, there’s only one man that moves the needle around here.
Carmine. Tony Carmine. Scandalous Tony Carmine. Sunshine Scandalous Tony Carmine.
This match I have coming up is historic. It’s a must see, because for the first time ever, the Scandalous One’s back is against the wall. Noelle Smith is unlike any challenger I ever had before. She’s been handpicked. She’s been chosen. I looked into her sweet eyes and I thought I saw someone who deserved all the opportunities in the world. I thought if none of the rest of you bitches had the balls to step to me, I would reach down and grace a wonderful friend with the chance of a lifetime. Truthfully, I wanted to award this match to Cindy but her sights were set on the world title, and who could blame her? There’s been too many times that I’ve sat here and watched the same boring, talentless, undeserving sons of bitches get title shots without earning it. Too many talented stars get left in the dust for whoever management wants to show pity to at the moment. That’s why the Scandalous One is always yawning when I watch Vertigo. Each and every show I see nothing but people I’ve beaten parade around pretending to be hot shit. Each and every show there’s either a fucking noob like Dexter Jacobs desperately trying to get attention or it’s a pathetic little cunt like Fujiko Mine who just can’t seem to keep my name out of her mouth. After laying Cannon to rest, I vowed that NO MORE! No more will I hand out shots to people who just try to rile me up. No longer would I fall victim to people trying to leech off my stardom, trying to sneak away my precious Pride belt and trying to knock me off of my throne. I made a promise to myself and every single one of my adoring fans that their PRIDE champion wasn’t going to keep degrading his belt for little peons way below his league.
How fucking stupid was I to think that Noelle was any different?
In perhaps a mistake that will go down in the deep depths of my memoirs, next to losing to Cami D. Magna, I was a fool to ever trust you. I expected retaliation for attacking you first, honey. I understand that when dealing with me, it’s smart to have backup and affiliations. What I didn’t expect was the lack of follow through. I WANTED YOU TO GIVE ME A MUTHAFUCKING CHALLENGE! And what do you do? Burned out. In fact, the only thing that’s changed since then is the fact that I’ve been losing sleep over whether or not to publicly mutilate you in front of the world. I’ve been losing sleep over whether or not to completely damn the rules of Pride when I get my hands on you and just pummel you away. It’s been a constant debate if I should just treat you like I’ve treated everyone else: with no remorse.
But that’s everything you want, right boo?
You want the Scandalous One to walk into our match whitehot. You want to pretend to play the little innocent cinderella. You want me to be so hellbent on destroying you that you take my title through the skin of your teeth…or a technicality of some sort. Honey you’re just not worth it. You’re not worth throwing away everything I’ve been building. Beating you to shit will give me no type of satisfaction whatsoever. You’re not even one of these overhyped fly by nights. No one acknowledges Noelle Smith for being the standout. Looks fade and everyone sees you as just another subpar, mediocre model playing pretend-fighter. Feels like I'm facing Tonka Tits all over again.
That's why this match is dedicated to Annie Zellor.
When I saw you beat Annie, the Scandalous One was actually quite impressed. It propelled me to reach out to you, because if Annie could learn from yours truly, surely you were also worthy of learning. Learning how to get to that next level. How to take that extra step and tap into that killer instinct. It’s no secret that I’ve shown Annie a fair amount of “tough love” in the past, but none of it was done with any real malice. I looked at her, and I saw someone who was being taken advantage of. People were pulling her every which way, and she was beginning to lose sight of why we’re all here in the first place. She didn’t realize what really mattered at the time. W’s and Championships. Sure I manhandled her and called her every name in the book. I pretended like she didn’t mean shit to me, but there was a method to the madness. Because Annie Zellor is a Rich Homie…a friend. Because Annie Zellor deserves to thrive in this business, and she wasn’t going to do it by sucking on Laurel’s saggy nipples and playing Candyland with everyone. Now Annie isn’t nearly as naive as she used to be.
I know that because she was one of the first people to come up to me, concerned about you, Noe. Little Homie Starbucks noticed that I noticed a change in your attitude and she felt assured that she wasn’t the only one. It was right around the time the Scandalous One beat you in the finals of the Lion’s Cup. Right around the time you were letting your stunt double make a name for YOU in this company. Also right around the time you (or your sister so still you) started disrespecting me. I caught on to the little side comment you made months back about how I was a fake friend for not reaching out to you for a job well done after Above and Beyond. Hurt my feelings.
Here I am, celebrating the biggest accomplishment of my career and I can’t enjoy it because I won at your expense? Bitch you were lucky to make it to the finals of that tournament and everyone knows it. Who the fuck do you think you are? What made you think you deserved to even be in the competition, much less making it to the finals? You should be thanking the heavens you stumbled upon the possibility of even winning. But instead, it’s “Fuck Tony because he’s supposed to be my friend and he showed no mercy towards me!”
How fucking stupid was I to think better of you, Noelle?
But I get it. It’s just another case of everyone praying on my downfall. Everyone banking on my stock to come crashing down. It’s people like you who love people like me as long they’re in my good graces. You loved me when I was trashing anyone else on the roster. You couldn’t wait to tag me in those corny ass MCM tweets, because you were one of the few people who could talk to me without getting chewed up and spat out. Now that you’re on the other side of the coin, you’re not only seeing just what I’m capable of, you’re feeling it. Before, I just wanted to teach you the same lesson I taught Annie. I just wanted to take you out of the world of naivety and show you what it means to truly be one of the elite forces in FGA. Seems like you’re content right where you are: bottom of the fucking barrel. This, however, has been a very valuable lesson to the Scandalous One. It’s the last time I gracefully extend the olive branch. You've taught me that there truly are no friends in this business. A sad reality.
So let’s just get this shit over with.
Sweetheart, you and I both know this isn’t what you want. That little tirade on me was the only card you had in your hand, and you went all in. Yet, here my fine ass is with no bruises. No scars. No aches. Ever since, there’s been zilch. No matter how many people you try to get involved on your side, you’ve yet to convince anyone that you’re even remotely a threat to my Pride title reign. That Fuji water leakage you’ve had for as long as you’ve been around here? I squashed directly one week after she squashed you. You’ve got the lowliest of losers in the FGA beating you and trying to stake claim to my championship by default. Do you know how embarrassing it was to watch Danny Diamond stomp all over the pretty princess I was about to crown with a title shot? So much so that I’ve invited him to a special viewing of our match. I’m going to teach that kid what it really means to make a statement. In fact, I’m going to teach all of you what it means to make a statement because it seems as though the definition is getting lost in the mail over time.
Making a statement doesn’t mean staging some fucking magic trick with your siblings.
Making a statement doesn’t mean you hop on a has-been-actually-never-was’ bandwagon like Kerry Windsor for all of his dated and irrelevant wrestling advice. (must be a trend)
Making a statement doesn’t mean throwing some weak ass kendo stick around in my face.
Making a statement is going out and doing exactly what I do every week. WIN! With no excuses, no friends, no cosigners, no one coming to my defense. I WIN! With nothing in my corner by sheer talent and beauty, I’ve overcame every single odd and always have gotten even. Seems like you’re hungry to beat me, Noe, but that’s all you’re hungry for. Not once have you shown a legitimate desire to be the FGA Pride Champion, because you know if by the grace of the almighty you beat me…it only gets harder for you. Anyone can win a title, but none of you fucks in this company can keep one. Fact. None of you can go through the bullshit that I do, and still manage to hear his music at the end of each night. You can’t honestly think you’re ready to be the one that takes the rug out from under me. There’s still so much for you to learn and you lost your chance to get a real teacher. You’re on your own. That means none of those fucking losers who gas your head up will be about to save your ankle when I’m trying to break it out of place…peacefully, with a smile on my oh so gorgeous face. I won’t be angry when that bell rings, but I will be relentless. I’m determined to make you think twice before taking my kindness for weakness ever again. The Stampede is about adding another notch to my legacy and becoming the longest reigning FGA Pride Champion of all time…with the most amount of defenses to boot. So I wouldn’t make this too personal, kay hun? You were just handpicked to fill a fucking quota and nothing more.
Facts Only.