Road to Payback Pt. 1
Mar 17, 2016 14:47:36 GMT -5
Post by pimp on Mar 17, 2016 14:47:36 GMT -5
Road to Payback Pt. 1
March 15, 2016
Miami, FL
Location: Premier Athletics
“KNEES!” Damon Brooks yelled with his padded hands up. Drenched in sweat I held in my breath before lifting both knees up to hit each pad. “DON’T STOP!” I hit the pads again, slower each time. “C’MON DON’T STOP! YOU’RE A FUCKING LOSER! A LOSER!” Angrily I took another breath before hitting the pads countlessly. “THAT AIN’T SHIT! YOU AIN’T SHIT! YOU’RE A FUCKING LOSER! A LOSER!” I started to add more intensity with each knee strike, continuing to push my feet off of the canvas. “Go faster motherfucka. FASTER!” I sped up.
Damon was kicking my ass extra hard and it’s because I asked him to. The impact I made last Vertigo doesn’t compare to the utter embarrassment I suffered from losing to Johnny Karma. This was supposed to be a warm up match. A propellor to true glory, and instead I fucked around and lost my Pride title. What gave him a right to my title anyways? I know of promotions that have TV titles but it seems as though I’m always the one who has to put his title on the line week in and week out against the fucks in FGA who don’t deserve it. Sure they’re good, but I prove that I’m good. I don’t get by on a good word from others. I’ve worked for my spot in FGA, I actually started at the bottom. Now all it takes is a pity title shot for miserable little shit like Karma to sneak a victory it’s madness. I’m mad at myself for allowing it to get to this point.
Maybe I’m too arrogant. Maybe I’m too dismissive of some of the talent in that locker room. I just know I’m the best and I’m sick of having to prove it. By now everyone should already know. So something’s got to give. I’m going to bust my ass even harder, I’m going to add even more moves to my arsenal. I’m going to get faster. I’m going to get tougher. I’m going to get deadlier. Now I have bonafide insurance by my side in Cannon and Diamond, I can rest at ease knowing that things will eventually fall in place. I just can’t help but hurt. Knowing that Karma will always try to use this against me. He’ll use that win to forever lobby for a title match once I win the Pride back and go on to win the World. It’ll always be a card in his deck and I just can’t let that happen. It won’t just be him. It’ll be any of the countless dime a dozen curtain jerkers who’s ever beaten him.
“Alright stop.” My mind had blanked and I came to, realizing I had knee’d Damon all the way into the corner. I laid out on the mat to catch my breath. “No motherfucka get up. You wanna be laying on your goddamn back next week? Or the next time you get a chance at that title? Get the fuck up!” He picked me up and sat me on the top turnbuckle. “See what happens when you take your eyes off the prize? You’re only supposed to travel for shows.”
“Oh really father? I had no idea you were calling the shots around here. It was Kenny’s fucking birthday!” I said full of breath. I almost fell off the turnbuckle trying to lean back but I caught myself.
Damon started laughing. “That’s what your ass get! I know when Kenny birthday is but you didn’t come back in town until the 28th. Either way that bullshit you got going on is fucking up your training…and mine.” I scoffed.
“Oh this is what it’s all about. You just want me around here to train YOU, it’s not at all about helping me right?” Shaking my head, I stepped down into the ring my legs feeling like spaghetti. “Should’ve known Damon Brooks has always looked out for only Damon Brooks.” I pointed outside the ring. “It was right there. Right there where I watched Tundae try to murder you. We saved your life…”
“Why the hell you think I’m here putting in work for you?” Damon cut me off immediately. “You ain’t got to remind me of that shit I think about it everyday. Besides, it ain’t about me getting my shit in. That’s what I got Nick and Marty for. This is about you not taking shit serious, now you fucked around and lost your title. Ain’t that a pay cut too?”
I couldn’t respond.
“Thought so. You not focused right now my dude.” He was right. Every time I had something more important to focus on, something small and petty was pulling me away. It was almost like a curse I acquired through years of Molitisanti bullshit. “So what is it now?”
I sighed. “It’s the salon. I’ve been looking for these guys who have some packages and…” I shook my head, wondering to myself why I was confiding in Damon Brooks of all people. “It doesn’t really matter, honestly. It’s just always something I guess.”
“The salon? You talking about that faggot we roughed up that one time looking for you?” I stopped for a second. At first I had forgotten about that incident. “I just seen them cats the other day at the shop.”
My eyes widened. “Wait…what? When?”
“I was walking on the strip bored as hell last week. Looking for some honeys, I’m not gonna even hold you. A nigga starting to feel this Miami life and shit. I can get used to this.” Damon took the pads off of his hands and leaned back against the ropes. “But yeah I was walking by the spot and I saw him and them little sissy ass punks that ya’ll run with. Ain’t seen no one doing no nails or no hair all I saw was dancing and all I heard was Sheila E.”
Yup. Had to be them. “So what? What did you do? Did they see you?”
“Yeah I think so. The little spanish dude pointed me out to your boy and they all stopped dancing, but I wasn’t paying them jokers no mind. I kept it moving. Now every time I ride by the lights are out and blinds are closed.” These developments gave me a little hope. If Chauncey and the sassy three were just spotted at Strava last week, then they can’t be too far. Definitely, if they spotted Damon, they’d flee.
Chauncey had no idea Damon and I have been on decent terms; after all, I never hear the end of him getting slammed up by Damon and Junior. “Is this bad? Is this good? Ugh I don’t even know at this point…I just need to find all four of them.”
“You make it sound like the motherfuckas ran off with some yayo…” I looked up at Damon without saying a word and he sighed. “Damn. See I know I been in these streets too long. Read that shit like a book.”
“Don’t worry about it. Shouldn’t even really be talking to you about any of this shit. Your job is to train me, not counsel me thank you very much.”
“Shut your stubborn ass up for once and listen.” Damon threw one of his pads at me. I ducked and it flew right over the turnbuckle. “Now I can help you out in your little situation. This shorty I met the other night at Amscot could probably track your boys down.”
I looked confused. “Amscot? Really? What the hell can she do?” Damon laughed.
“Man…what can’t she do…” Shaking his head, he snaps out of it. “Aye look, all I’m saying is she got files on damn near everyone who got a job in this town. I know you got vigilante ninja goats and shit running around, but they probably told you you was on your own this time huh?”
“No, it’s too personal. I wanted to do this myself…” Looking down at the ropes I was beginning to space out again. “I have to.”
Well that didn’t take long did it? Didn’t take long for the powers at be to take notice of the Scandalous One and his new company. It didn’t take the rest of you long to take notice either. The Scandalous One saw it all over Twitter. The dot dot dots. The subs. The ohemgees. The shock. Allow me to lay the speculation to rest. Johnny Karma had that shit coming for a long time now. See, the Scandalous One has a list. It’s not a very long list. Just a loose little jotting of some names…some accomplishments…some deadlines.
I made this list after Canadian Stampede and along the way, I acquired some unlikely friends to help the Scandalous One complete it. However let me very clear…losing the FGA Pride Championship was NOT on the list, and I know I’m gearing up for Gold Rush but I want my fucking rematch next Vertigo. I know you people in charge are listening and I know you’re watching because how could you not? How could any of you not look at the Scandalous One? You’re all constantly watching my every move. Waiting. Praying that I’ll fall down. That’s why as soon as Karma be…excuse me…as soon as Karma STOLE my championship, I green lighted him.
There will be no celebrating. All that bitch has been doing since he STOLE my championship has been licking his wounds. And just like the rest of you, he’s confused. He wants to know why. Why the Scandalous One would join forces with Johnny Cannon, a man who I’ve historically berated, mocked and a man who’s made it his mission to take me out. Why? It’s because we only differ on the surface. He’s Clark Gable and I’m Dolemite. However I’ve come to realize that Cannon and myself aren’t so different after all. Both of us enjoy the finer things in life. Both of us are cold, and both of us are hungry. All three of us are hungry...and cold...and tired. Tired of people turning FGA into a fucking dog and pony show. We’re tired of being disrespected by the rest of you soap scum bastards. Some of you aren’t even worthy enough to clean our boots and yet, you like to put yourselves on this pedestal. This high horse. As if you’re better than us. It’s laughable.
Laughable how you take a man like Danny Diamond who’s done everything there is to fucking do in this business and discredit it all. Just because it wasn’t a company you all respect. It wasn’t a company that was on twitter shucking and jiving for your little fucking circle jerks. It wasn’t a company that the people whose dicks you suck from day to day used to work at. Fucking pathetic. You people look at Danny Diamond as if he’s some kind of prodigy. As if he’s some kind of young chipper trying to find his footing in the business. I’ve seen the wars he’s been in. Blood, sweat and tears all over his face…none of it was his. I’ve seen men from all over the world, all corners of the country step in the ring with him and walk out never the same again. I’ve seen him shorten many careers. I’ve seen Cannon shorten careers in the little bit of time he’s been here too. So when I recruited Johnny and Danny, all I had to tell them was what we’re about to do together is nothing new. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing we haven’t been doing all along. There are no spring chickens in the squad, everyone of us is seasoned. Diamond’s been putting in work for YEARS. Cannon’s been putting in work for YEARS. SUNSHINE SCANDALOUS TONY MOTHERSHUTCHOMOTHERFUCKINGMOUTH CARMINE HAS BEEN PUTTING IN WORK FOR YEEEEAAAAARRRRRRRSSSSS!
Where’s our respect? More importantly, where’s MY respect? I shouldn’t have to prove that I’m the number one contender in some stupid little battle royal. I shouldn’t have to constantly be the man who puts this company on his back: selling out venues, merchandise, boosting ratings and more than anything…making all the pussies in this company look like potential stars. That’s just what’s going to happen this weekend once again. Me and my boys are about feed three little pigeons some bread crumbs because that’s what you all want. That’s what management wants. That’s what the fans want. There’s no other reason for the Scandalous One’s name to be associated with this opposition, let alone my newly formed alliance. You people just want to see what the fuss is about. You want to see if there’s any chemistry there. People want answers and if that’s what you want? Fine.
You all want the Scandalous One to finally manhandle Molly Reid. This bitch, I will confirm, is on the list. Baby, you’ll never guess who the happiest person in the world to find out you signed to FGA. Like, it was a feeling that was only trumped by Cindy winning the World title. I haven’t felt that elated in a long time, because I knew. The Scandalous One knew that it’d be a matter of time before management found a way to get me in the ring with you. From the Twitter bullshit, it’s obvious that I don’t like you. Your existence makes my fucking skin crawl and I’ve been dying to get my hands on you precious…oh yes honey. I’m going to grab you by that dirty mop on your head, look into your devilishly beadie eyes and maybe even kiss your rattlesnake-skin cheek before snapping your neck clean. Lord knows the Scandalous One would never follow you to any shithole you’ve ever competed in, and why would I? You’ve been a fucking failure everywhere you’ve fought. Who can forget that laughable MLC run?
Oh I know, everybody.
So now you’re coming into the big leagues and you look up to the Sun, hoping that some day you could shine half as bright. Sweetheart, I’m going to burn you to ashes. Normally I’d run you down as unworthy of my attention. I could certainly make a case, questioning this match since neither of you have done jack shit since coming here. I could sit here and wonder the motive behind being pulled into Danny Diamond’s situations but, I owe him one. In fact, the Scandalous One owes everyone in this match something. I owe Molly the ass kicking she’s been asking for for so long. For so long she’s followed me, studied me. Observed me in hopes of finding a way to beat me. Life doesn’t work that way. Do all the homework you want to, this test isn’t about Molly showing what she can do against the elite. This test is about what the newest FGA supergroup is capable of doing. I want to kick your ass just to say I did it. Simply for shits and giggles. You’re a fucking pawn on the board bitch, don’t you get it? Wipe out the illusions that my sunshine is beaming down upon you as fuel out of your head. There will be no flowers blossomed on Vertigo. You…along with my darling Nero.
I can’t take away the fact that you’re and HONORARY Rich Homie. I can’t take away the fact that you’re actually a sweet woman and I like you. The Scandalous One loves you enough to tell you to walk away from this match, Nero. Walk away from the match, the company. Walk away from the business. Go home to Kentucky and take care of your fucking kids. For God’s sakes, Nero, I don’t want to have to hurt you. I don’t want to take your precious little head and drive it into the barricade. I don’t want to have to break your ankle out of place and force you to stay home…so I’m asking nicely. Do yourself a favor. I owe you this as a friend. I owe you a fair warning that I’m not in a good place. My Pride Championship’s been STOLEN! Yet another obstacle is in between me and the World title. Not to mention, I have two hungry British bulldogs chomping at the bit just dying to make their presence felt.
You can’t handle this baby. I’ll even accept that big fucking oaf Tom as a replacement. I owe him a #PimpShit for what he did to you. The man must have fucked your head up quite good to have you signing to FGA thinking you have what it takes to cut it with the big boys. You must be out of your mind to think that you against the Scandalous One will result in anything other than you on at home being nursed, hating me forever. I don’t want that on my conscience, but I’ve done worst, you know I have. If you really knew me, you’d know not to tweet me fucking smiley faces of optimism about having a match with me. I don’t do hair and nails when the bell rings, that’s for off days. I don’t sing Patti Labelle when the bell rings and I sure as fuck don’t spare a soul. You’re going to be another face. A side dish for my bulldogs. This match is what I call the sampler appetizer. We’re taking a little of everything and destroying it until we get what we really want. All of the gold. All of the awards. All of the praise. All of the respect.
Which brings me to this fucking no namer the ladies are teaming with. Mark Storm AKA Generic Wrestler Number 57. What is it with wrestlers and Storms? One of the first guys I beat around here was Thunderbelly the Storm Bearer. Ya’ll related? I wouldn’t be surprised to see you down in LDFC with him tagging up in a few weeks from now. Not just because of your love for bad weather, but because after Vertigo you’re going to end up just like him. Some insignificant piece of trash who was in over his head in the big leagues who has to go back down to the farm and learn the basics.
You’re just the new kid in school who got caught up with the wrong crowd now you’re up shit’s creek without a paddle. You must be thinking how the fuck did I end up in a match with the three heaviest hitters in FGA my second week on the job? How did you manage to piss off your bosses to the extent that they would send you to the wolves? Maybe it’s because you say shit like you’re "one of the top fighters in the world" when no one’s heard of you outside of random wrestler name generators. Maybe it’s because you think you were signed as some sort of top prospect when you’re really a bottom feeder until proven otherwise. How does it feel to have eight years in the business and being past your prime for seven? I’d say that’s rich, but this match against the Scandalous One is probably the most money you’ll ever make. So high profile. Such a must see. Surely an opportunity for a guy like Mark Storm to take advantage of. Too bad you're on the wrong side of the sun. Plus if you're supposed to be valiant competition, then either I’m living under a rock or you’ve been splashing in the kiddie pool. Doesn’t matter, you’re a nobody that the Scandalous One and his men are about to make into a somebody. Even if it’s for one night only.
Because again, that’s what everyone wants. Whether they admit it or not, no one’s tuning into see the hot up and coming Mark Storm in action! No one’s coming to see if Nero Darling can actually contribute ANYTHING to the wrestling business. No one’s coming to see if Molly Reid is as good as the people she surrounds herself around, trying to study. They’re coming to see the Law Offices of Carmine, Cannon and Diamond set the BAR for a new gold standard in FGA. They want to see just how much of threat we can be as a unit. Be careful what you wish for, because like I like told Annie: no one’s safe. There’s no more friends. Cyncity could even fall victim if she so happens to get it my way, and as long as that World title’s around her waist, she should know that it’s only a matter of time. This week we give you a glimpse of what’s already been unraveling. These fragile morons you all love to call stars are dropping like flies and it hasn’t been a coincidence who the main culprits are.
We’re everyone’s problem.
Facts Only.
March 15, 2016
Miami, FL
Location: Premier Athletics
“KNEES!” Damon Brooks yelled with his padded hands up. Drenched in sweat I held in my breath before lifting both knees up to hit each pad. “DON’T STOP!” I hit the pads again, slower each time. “C’MON DON’T STOP! YOU’RE A FUCKING LOSER! A LOSER!” Angrily I took another breath before hitting the pads countlessly. “THAT AIN’T SHIT! YOU AIN’T SHIT! YOU’RE A FUCKING LOSER! A LOSER!” I started to add more intensity with each knee strike, continuing to push my feet off of the canvas. “Go faster motherfucka. FASTER!” I sped up.
Damon was kicking my ass extra hard and it’s because I asked him to. The impact I made last Vertigo doesn’t compare to the utter embarrassment I suffered from losing to Johnny Karma. This was supposed to be a warm up match. A propellor to true glory, and instead I fucked around and lost my Pride title. What gave him a right to my title anyways? I know of promotions that have TV titles but it seems as though I’m always the one who has to put his title on the line week in and week out against the fucks in FGA who don’t deserve it. Sure they’re good, but I prove that I’m good. I don’t get by on a good word from others. I’ve worked for my spot in FGA, I actually started at the bottom. Now all it takes is a pity title shot for miserable little shit like Karma to sneak a victory it’s madness. I’m mad at myself for allowing it to get to this point.
Maybe I’m too arrogant. Maybe I’m too dismissive of some of the talent in that locker room. I just know I’m the best and I’m sick of having to prove it. By now everyone should already know. So something’s got to give. I’m going to bust my ass even harder, I’m going to add even more moves to my arsenal. I’m going to get faster. I’m going to get tougher. I’m going to get deadlier. Now I have bonafide insurance by my side in Cannon and Diamond, I can rest at ease knowing that things will eventually fall in place. I just can’t help but hurt. Knowing that Karma will always try to use this against me. He’ll use that win to forever lobby for a title match once I win the Pride back and go on to win the World. It’ll always be a card in his deck and I just can’t let that happen. It won’t just be him. It’ll be any of the countless dime a dozen curtain jerkers who’s ever beaten him.
“Alright stop.” My mind had blanked and I came to, realizing I had knee’d Damon all the way into the corner. I laid out on the mat to catch my breath. “No motherfucka get up. You wanna be laying on your goddamn back next week? Or the next time you get a chance at that title? Get the fuck up!” He picked me up and sat me on the top turnbuckle. “See what happens when you take your eyes off the prize? You’re only supposed to travel for shows.”
“Oh really father? I had no idea you were calling the shots around here. It was Kenny’s fucking birthday!” I said full of breath. I almost fell off the turnbuckle trying to lean back but I caught myself.
Damon started laughing. “That’s what your ass get! I know when Kenny birthday is but you didn’t come back in town until the 28th. Either way that bullshit you got going on is fucking up your training…and mine.” I scoffed.
“Oh this is what it’s all about. You just want me around here to train YOU, it’s not at all about helping me right?” Shaking my head, I stepped down into the ring my legs feeling like spaghetti. “Should’ve known Damon Brooks has always looked out for only Damon Brooks.” I pointed outside the ring. “It was right there. Right there where I watched Tundae try to murder you. We saved your life…”
“Why the hell you think I’m here putting in work for you?” Damon cut me off immediately. “You ain’t got to remind me of that shit I think about it everyday. Besides, it ain’t about me getting my shit in. That’s what I got Nick and Marty for. This is about you not taking shit serious, now you fucked around and lost your title. Ain’t that a pay cut too?”
I couldn’t respond.
“Thought so. You not focused right now my dude.” He was right. Every time I had something more important to focus on, something small and petty was pulling me away. It was almost like a curse I acquired through years of Molitisanti bullshit. “So what is it now?”
I sighed. “It’s the salon. I’ve been looking for these guys who have some packages and…” I shook my head, wondering to myself why I was confiding in Damon Brooks of all people. “It doesn’t really matter, honestly. It’s just always something I guess.”
“The salon? You talking about that faggot we roughed up that one time looking for you?” I stopped for a second. At first I had forgotten about that incident. “I just seen them cats the other day at the shop.”
My eyes widened. “Wait…what? When?”
“I was walking on the strip bored as hell last week. Looking for some honeys, I’m not gonna even hold you. A nigga starting to feel this Miami life and shit. I can get used to this.” Damon took the pads off of his hands and leaned back against the ropes. “But yeah I was walking by the spot and I saw him and them little sissy ass punks that ya’ll run with. Ain’t seen no one doing no nails or no hair all I saw was dancing and all I heard was Sheila E.”
Yup. Had to be them. “So what? What did you do? Did they see you?”
“Yeah I think so. The little spanish dude pointed me out to your boy and they all stopped dancing, but I wasn’t paying them jokers no mind. I kept it moving. Now every time I ride by the lights are out and blinds are closed.” These developments gave me a little hope. If Chauncey and the sassy three were just spotted at Strava last week, then they can’t be too far. Definitely, if they spotted Damon, they’d flee.
Chauncey had no idea Damon and I have been on decent terms; after all, I never hear the end of him getting slammed up by Damon and Junior. “Is this bad? Is this good? Ugh I don’t even know at this point…I just need to find all four of them.”
“You make it sound like the motherfuckas ran off with some yayo…” I looked up at Damon without saying a word and he sighed. “Damn. See I know I been in these streets too long. Read that shit like a book.”
“Don’t worry about it. Shouldn’t even really be talking to you about any of this shit. Your job is to train me, not counsel me thank you very much.”
“Shut your stubborn ass up for once and listen.” Damon threw one of his pads at me. I ducked and it flew right over the turnbuckle. “Now I can help you out in your little situation. This shorty I met the other night at Amscot could probably track your boys down.”
I looked confused. “Amscot? Really? What the hell can she do?” Damon laughed.
“Man…what can’t she do…” Shaking his head, he snaps out of it. “Aye look, all I’m saying is she got files on damn near everyone who got a job in this town. I know you got vigilante ninja goats and shit running around, but they probably told you you was on your own this time huh?”
“No, it’s too personal. I wanted to do this myself…” Looking down at the ropes I was beginning to space out again. “I have to.”
Well that didn’t take long did it? Didn’t take long for the powers at be to take notice of the Scandalous One and his new company. It didn’t take the rest of you long to take notice either. The Scandalous One saw it all over Twitter. The dot dot dots. The subs. The ohemgees. The shock. Allow me to lay the speculation to rest. Johnny Karma had that shit coming for a long time now. See, the Scandalous One has a list. It’s not a very long list. Just a loose little jotting of some names…some accomplishments…some deadlines.
I made this list after Canadian Stampede and along the way, I acquired some unlikely friends to help the Scandalous One complete it. However let me very clear…losing the FGA Pride Championship was NOT on the list, and I know I’m gearing up for Gold Rush but I want my fucking rematch next Vertigo. I know you people in charge are listening and I know you’re watching because how could you not? How could any of you not look at the Scandalous One? You’re all constantly watching my every move. Waiting. Praying that I’ll fall down. That’s why as soon as Karma be…excuse me…as soon as Karma STOLE my championship, I green lighted him.
There will be no celebrating. All that bitch has been doing since he STOLE my championship has been licking his wounds. And just like the rest of you, he’s confused. He wants to know why. Why the Scandalous One would join forces with Johnny Cannon, a man who I’ve historically berated, mocked and a man who’s made it his mission to take me out. Why? It’s because we only differ on the surface. He’s Clark Gable and I’m Dolemite. However I’ve come to realize that Cannon and myself aren’t so different after all. Both of us enjoy the finer things in life. Both of us are cold, and both of us are hungry. All three of us are hungry...and cold...and tired. Tired of people turning FGA into a fucking dog and pony show. We’re tired of being disrespected by the rest of you soap scum bastards. Some of you aren’t even worthy enough to clean our boots and yet, you like to put yourselves on this pedestal. This high horse. As if you’re better than us. It’s laughable.
Laughable how you take a man like Danny Diamond who’s done everything there is to fucking do in this business and discredit it all. Just because it wasn’t a company you all respect. It wasn’t a company that was on twitter shucking and jiving for your little fucking circle jerks. It wasn’t a company that the people whose dicks you suck from day to day used to work at. Fucking pathetic. You people look at Danny Diamond as if he’s some kind of prodigy. As if he’s some kind of young chipper trying to find his footing in the business. I’ve seen the wars he’s been in. Blood, sweat and tears all over his face…none of it was his. I’ve seen men from all over the world, all corners of the country step in the ring with him and walk out never the same again. I’ve seen him shorten many careers. I’ve seen Cannon shorten careers in the little bit of time he’s been here too. So when I recruited Johnny and Danny, all I had to tell them was what we’re about to do together is nothing new. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing we haven’t been doing all along. There are no spring chickens in the squad, everyone of us is seasoned. Diamond’s been putting in work for YEARS. Cannon’s been putting in work for YEARS. SUNSHINE SCANDALOUS TONY MOTHERSHUTCHOMOTHERFUCKINGMOUTH CARMINE HAS BEEN PUTTING IN WORK FOR YEEEEAAAAARRRRRRRSSSSS!
Where’s our respect? More importantly, where’s MY respect? I shouldn’t have to prove that I’m the number one contender in some stupid little battle royal. I shouldn’t have to constantly be the man who puts this company on his back: selling out venues, merchandise, boosting ratings and more than anything…making all the pussies in this company look like potential stars. That’s just what’s going to happen this weekend once again. Me and my boys are about feed three little pigeons some bread crumbs because that’s what you all want. That’s what management wants. That’s what the fans want. There’s no other reason for the Scandalous One’s name to be associated with this opposition, let alone my newly formed alliance. You people just want to see what the fuss is about. You want to see if there’s any chemistry there. People want answers and if that’s what you want? Fine.
You all want the Scandalous One to finally manhandle Molly Reid. This bitch, I will confirm, is on the list. Baby, you’ll never guess who the happiest person in the world to find out you signed to FGA. Like, it was a feeling that was only trumped by Cindy winning the World title. I haven’t felt that elated in a long time, because I knew. The Scandalous One knew that it’d be a matter of time before management found a way to get me in the ring with you. From the Twitter bullshit, it’s obvious that I don’t like you. Your existence makes my fucking skin crawl and I’ve been dying to get my hands on you precious…oh yes honey. I’m going to grab you by that dirty mop on your head, look into your devilishly beadie eyes and maybe even kiss your rattlesnake-skin cheek before snapping your neck clean. Lord knows the Scandalous One would never follow you to any shithole you’ve ever competed in, and why would I? You’ve been a fucking failure everywhere you’ve fought. Who can forget that laughable MLC run?
Oh I know, everybody.
So now you’re coming into the big leagues and you look up to the Sun, hoping that some day you could shine half as bright. Sweetheart, I’m going to burn you to ashes. Normally I’d run you down as unworthy of my attention. I could certainly make a case, questioning this match since neither of you have done jack shit since coming here. I could sit here and wonder the motive behind being pulled into Danny Diamond’s situations but, I owe him one. In fact, the Scandalous One owes everyone in this match something. I owe Molly the ass kicking she’s been asking for for so long. For so long she’s followed me, studied me. Observed me in hopes of finding a way to beat me. Life doesn’t work that way. Do all the homework you want to, this test isn’t about Molly showing what she can do against the elite. This test is about what the newest FGA supergroup is capable of doing. I want to kick your ass just to say I did it. Simply for shits and giggles. You’re a fucking pawn on the board bitch, don’t you get it? Wipe out the illusions that my sunshine is beaming down upon you as fuel out of your head. There will be no flowers blossomed on Vertigo. You…along with my darling Nero.
I can’t take away the fact that you’re and HONORARY Rich Homie. I can’t take away the fact that you’re actually a sweet woman and I like you. The Scandalous One loves you enough to tell you to walk away from this match, Nero. Walk away from the match, the company. Walk away from the business. Go home to Kentucky and take care of your fucking kids. For God’s sakes, Nero, I don’t want to have to hurt you. I don’t want to take your precious little head and drive it into the barricade. I don’t want to have to break your ankle out of place and force you to stay home…so I’m asking nicely. Do yourself a favor. I owe you this as a friend. I owe you a fair warning that I’m not in a good place. My Pride Championship’s been STOLEN! Yet another obstacle is in between me and the World title. Not to mention, I have two hungry British bulldogs chomping at the bit just dying to make their presence felt.
You can’t handle this baby. I’ll even accept that big fucking oaf Tom as a replacement. I owe him a #PimpShit for what he did to you. The man must have fucked your head up quite good to have you signing to FGA thinking you have what it takes to cut it with the big boys. You must be out of your mind to think that you against the Scandalous One will result in anything other than you on at home being nursed, hating me forever. I don’t want that on my conscience, but I’ve done worst, you know I have. If you really knew me, you’d know not to tweet me fucking smiley faces of optimism about having a match with me. I don’t do hair and nails when the bell rings, that’s for off days. I don’t sing Patti Labelle when the bell rings and I sure as fuck don’t spare a soul. You’re going to be another face. A side dish for my bulldogs. This match is what I call the sampler appetizer. We’re taking a little of everything and destroying it until we get what we really want. All of the gold. All of the awards. All of the praise. All of the respect.
Which brings me to this fucking no namer the ladies are teaming with. Mark Storm AKA Generic Wrestler Number 57. What is it with wrestlers and Storms? One of the first guys I beat around here was Thunderbelly the Storm Bearer. Ya’ll related? I wouldn’t be surprised to see you down in LDFC with him tagging up in a few weeks from now. Not just because of your love for bad weather, but because after Vertigo you’re going to end up just like him. Some insignificant piece of trash who was in over his head in the big leagues who has to go back down to the farm and learn the basics.
You’re just the new kid in school who got caught up with the wrong crowd now you’re up shit’s creek without a paddle. You must be thinking how the fuck did I end up in a match with the three heaviest hitters in FGA my second week on the job? How did you manage to piss off your bosses to the extent that they would send you to the wolves? Maybe it’s because you say shit like you’re "one of the top fighters in the world" when no one’s heard of you outside of random wrestler name generators. Maybe it’s because you think you were signed as some sort of top prospect when you’re really a bottom feeder until proven otherwise. How does it feel to have eight years in the business and being past your prime for seven? I’d say that’s rich, but this match against the Scandalous One is probably the most money you’ll ever make. So high profile. Such a must see. Surely an opportunity for a guy like Mark Storm to take advantage of. Too bad you're on the wrong side of the sun. Plus if you're supposed to be valiant competition, then either I’m living under a rock or you’ve been splashing in the kiddie pool. Doesn’t matter, you’re a nobody that the Scandalous One and his men are about to make into a somebody. Even if it’s for one night only.
Because again, that’s what everyone wants. Whether they admit it or not, no one’s tuning into see the hot up and coming Mark Storm in action! No one’s coming to see if Nero Darling can actually contribute ANYTHING to the wrestling business. No one’s coming to see if Molly Reid is as good as the people she surrounds herself around, trying to study. They’re coming to see the Law Offices of Carmine, Cannon and Diamond set the BAR for a new gold standard in FGA. They want to see just how much of threat we can be as a unit. Be careful what you wish for, because like I like told Annie: no one’s safe. There’s no more friends. Cyncity could even fall victim if she so happens to get it my way, and as long as that World title’s around her waist, she should know that it’s only a matter of time. This week we give you a glimpse of what’s already been unraveling. These fragile morons you all love to call stars are dropping like flies and it hasn’t been a coincidence who the main culprits are.
We’re everyone’s problem.
Facts Only.