Doubt
Aug 18, 2016 15:55:03 GMT -5
Post by pimp on Aug 18, 2016 15:55:03 GMT -5
Doubt
August 16, 2016
Miami, FL
Location: Premier Athletics [After Hours]
I was a few days away from the epic Do-Over. The most important match of my life, here it was.
My mind took me back to All-Star Showdown. Then back Final Frontier when I given that ungrateful good for nothing Chandler Scott everything I had. He threw it all me and I dodged nearly every bullet.
That was supposed to be my night, but no. In the end I just couldn’t dodge the kitchen sink.
I figured there would be another night, especially after my performance. I knew. I knew that there was nothing anyone could do to stop me from becoming FGA World Champion. Sunshine Tony is FGA. Sunshine Tony is the reason why those who know talent, tune into Vertigo every other week. Bieber Banks says it himself. I was and still am the hottest commodity in professional wrestling. I’m still waiting for someone to walk through those locker room doors and challenge me on that. By any means necessary, I am going to get to the apex of the mountain here and no matter if it’s Chandler Scott or Zero or Cindy or Cami D. Fucking Magna. It doesn’t fucking matter. There’s no way I’m going to relive All-Star Showdown again. There’s no way I’m going to relive Final Frontier again.
Failure is no longer an option. I can’t be looked at as the choke artist. For half of my life, I had always been looked at as good but not good enough. I can’t be looked at as the rest of them. I’m better than them all.
I refuse to be like Cyn and get continuously fucked over, over and over again. I refuse to be like Cordy and not be able to get the job done when it counts. Having to resort to dominating another division, and lowering my standards by teaming with a lifeless dying sheep who’s not only dying of age, but dying for relevance and legacy…wait. Ugh ok so maybe that’s a bad example, but I refuse to be like Jimmy Page who had to scratch and claw to get that top spot, only to start from square one after choking from the pressure.
That’s what everyone else does. They let that title fall on their lap, and they piss it away because they didn’t realize how heavy it was. I’m used to it. I’ve carried this fucking organization on my back for the last two and a half years. And whether Kenn Doll and Nicky want to admit it or not, I’ve carried THEIR organization for even longer. This world is mine.
“ANTONIO! Snap the fuck out of it.” I suddenly come to, realizing I zoned out smack in the middle of the ring. “Man I know I have a pretty mean clothesline, but I’ve never knocked someone out for that long.”
Martino helped me to get up to my feet. For a second, I forgot I was even training. “Sorry, I wasn’t out…just…”
“Just with your head in the goddamn clouds again right?” Nicky yelled from ringside. “Ok, you know what? Damon go get dressed, this session is finished.”
“Wait!” I pleaded with Nicky as Damon and Martino were about to exit the ring. “I…” Nick looked at me confused. “I just don’t feel ready.”
“You’re never going to feel ready Tony, you’ve been overthinking this thing for months. You’re ready. You’ve beaten the best of the best and you work hard, despite what others may think.” Nicky winked at me. “Even if you can be a bit of a sissy sometimes.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Mr. Model, you’re way more of a prima donna than I am!”
Martino was sitting on the turnbuckle, not laughing much. Stone killers have a terrible sense of humor. “Guys. This is fun and all, but we never got a chance to talk any business. What’s the story on this fruitcake hairdresser of yours?”
Nicky looked at me wondering the same thing. I had to stall. I couldn’t have them take matters in their own hands.
“Umm…I don’t know. I think he skipped town or something.” I said, brushing the issue off.
Marty wasn’t letting up. “Oh we we’ll find him. No doubt about that.”
I’m having doubts.
I know I know. You all are wondering how the Scandalous One could doubt himself when he’s supposed to have the grand master plan. Well that’s not the case at Above and Beyond. These last few months have been unlike any in my career. The Scandalous One looks gorgeous, but underneath my beautiful body and behind my luscious lips is a shit ton of doubt.
I’m supposed to be the one everyone hates so much, that they root for my opponents out of submission. But no one likes neither of us because we aren’t budging from our spots. FGA Management looks at the boat of EXODUS refugees coming. They look at the grizzly veterans who are desperate for another chance. They look at superstars in outside companies, putting together a list of people they want to see shine on their show.
They stack the odds against us. Why do you think the Scandalous One has gone through the gauntlet to finally get his rightful opportunity at the Holy Grail? They don’t want me here. No one wants me here. Everyone knows I belong here, but they’ll be damned if I get there because they know once I’m there…I’m never leaving. Once that FGA World title is around my waist, it’s never coming off. No one will beat me for it, and the bodies I’ve left lying in my path won’t even have a claim to take it from me because I would have already proven that none of these regular degulars have it in them to defeat me. What does the enemy do when they realize they can’t get to you? They revolt. They get desperate. So what’s everyone going to do when the inevitable happens? How is everyone in FGA going to react once they realize that any chance of them reaching that brass ring and grabbing my Holy Grail is dead? Will there be an uprising? Will The New Kings of FGA be dethroned in a coup?
Probably not. And that doubt inside of me comes from my own series of past misfortunate events. That doubt comes from the fact that the Scandalous One is never satisfied with only being the best. I don’t know how I can keep outdoing myself. My opponents don’t contribute to that doubt. When you measure us all up, I’m not the fucking underdog here. I’m exactly where all the smart money’s going.
I don’t doubt that we’re going to steal the show because that’s what we’ve done all year. I don’t doubt that we’re going to be the ones fighting for this top prize for months and months to come. I can hear the collective sighs from the masses, but who gives a shit? All of you allowed this to happen so there shouldn’t be any complaints. For the latter half of 2016, the three of us have dominated. We have conquered all divisions of FGA. We’ve taken out of the Somedays.
Meaning the ones who tell themselves and each other that even though they’re a heap of hot garbage, they’ll get to be where we are…Someday.
Meaning the bitches who sit on Twitter and hope we get what’s coming to us…Someday.
Meaning the faggots in the locker room who get knocked down by us time and again, hoping to finally avenge their losses…Someday.
The three of us might all have our differences, but the difference between us and the rest of you is we don’t live by Someday. We live by today. The now. We look at what’s going on currently. Or at least I do. I know even Cannon and Zero love diving into the past whenever they can but that’s because their best days in this business are behind them. The Scandalous One doesn’t look in the rear view mirror. I look ahead because that’s where MY best days are. If I wrestle another ten years, I’ll only be in my mid-30s and I’ll only be just scratching the surface. When you get to be like my opponents, a dying entity, you start to treat every match like it could be your last…because it really could be your last.
Johnny Cannon is one hernia away from slanging those same war stories I was on social media last month. Zero McHannon is shemale away from spending the rest of his life either in jail or in a casket. These are men that claim to have lived hardened lives. These are men that were probably trying to break into this business while I was still in High School being prettier than all the girls and cooler than all the guys. You two aren’t contemporaries to me. You two are some rusty fucking landmarks. You two are reminders of what I never want to become: old bastards trying to keep relevant no matter how desperate it makes them look.
Zero loves to get on his soap box after a few COCKtails and talk about how the refugees are muscling into his territory. He’s what Uncle Ruckus is to negro Mouliyans. Self-hating. Self-deprecating. You’re everything you claim to hate Mr. Mako. You’re cut from the same exact cloth that a cunt like Ruby Tyler is, yet you act as if she’s coming after your spot. She isn’t. She’s coming after mine. You act as if Chandler Scott avoids you and you allude to how he’s lost his edge. Sure, he lost his edge, but it had nothing to do with losing to you. Chandler is a shell of what he once was because I single-handedly took away his juice after I was done hitting the refresh button on his career. When Scotty was with the Scandalous One, he had all the confidence in the world to let the world know he was the best. Now he has no one on his side. Now he has no choice but to look up to the Sun and see The New Kings dominating a land he once owned the deed to. Now he has no choice but to shut the fuck up and let the grown folks handle their business. See what I do to men Zero? I break them down. No one in this business can stomach the fact that I’ve taken this company by the ballsack and I’ve played it and the people in it like a fiddle for over two years. No one, especially you Zero, can stomach the fact that they had so much success in other places. Yet when they get here, I shut them down. Management hates how successfully I’ve played their game.
The roadblocks that they throw to keep me away. The Lion’s Cup. The Gold Rush. The Lion’s Cup again. Before you know it, there will be something else. There’s always something else. This company loves to take the losers and give them 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 5th chances. I mean that’s the only way Zero got close to the gold in the first place. You got lucky. They put you in a forgiveness tournament with a few other pieces of shit who couldn’t lick the ground I walk on. As soon as I lost to Chandler Scott, they couldn’t wait to replace me with another number one contender. They couldn’t wait to push me down to the Pride division, hoping I’ll stay there stagnant. That’s where everyone thinks I belong. Almost there, but not quite there. Especially you.
You don’t take me seriously, as much as you act like you do. You beat Kenny Kasual like 4 years ago and you think that somehow measures what you can do against me? You beat Chandler Scott your first try and you think that puts you above me? You take my sweetness for weakness with no respect for my freakness. Since the day you got here, you never acknowledged me as the best. You see the Scandalous One and you don’t see someone who’s on your level. Well you shouldn’t because I’m above you, bitch.
It’s a good thing opinions don’t hold a candle to FACTS. When you came here, I was the top Star. When you won the FGA title for the first time, I WAS STILL THE TOP STAR. When you and Cindy were having to dumbest fucking 3-month-long argument of all time, I WAS STILL THE MOTHERFUCKING TOP STAR! No one’s ever given a fuck about you Zero. In every promotion you’ve ever worked for the only reason people tuned in to see you was because of the sucka you had static with at the time. Dig this, sweetie. NOTHING YOU SAY OR DO HAS EVER NOR WILL IT EVER MAKE YOU INTERESTING! It’s the same shit I used to tell Evangelista before she got tired of me kicking her skull in and left. You can be as good a wrestler as anyone. You can will all the matches you want, but if no one gives a fuck about you enough to tune in to see you, you aren’t worth shit. If people aren’t putting their hard feelings for others to the side just to watch them kick your ass, you aren’t worth shit. You need to stop trying to act like it’s you against the world. People want to like you Zero. They can relate to you and you can relate to them. Just like most people, you’re just an average alcoholic overly-sensitive blowhard that never gets laid and complains when other people get attention. The mediocre scums in the locker room look up to you, because you represent them and yet you shit on them any chance you get.
Zero wants to be a cool kid so bad that he’s completely killed the true him. This insecurity is why you’re so adamantly on this pro-FGA crusade when you weren’t one of the men who built this place. You’re raging war against your hometown troops and for what? So people won’t look at you the same way they look at Chris Bond? Broken and longing for that last flash of sunshine. No wonder you’re so defensive about your past, your looks and your legacy. No wonder you were so against this being a triple threat not once but twice. No wonder Cindy bothered you so much when she was around. You envy the fact that her career speaks for her. No wonder Cordy pisses you off so easily. Her career speaks for her. The Kings piss you off. Myself and Cannon’s career speaks for us. Brandon Banks’ career speaks for him. Alexa Corra’s career speaks for her. Fucking Kucci Mane’s too. Yet you? You’ll always have to be introduced. You’ll always have to remind people of what you’ve done. You’ll always have someone else on that tier above you looking down at you with disappointment; and after Above and Beyond, that’ll be me.
Or Cannon.
Actually no it’s going to be me.
Let’s be honest here, Johnny Cannon is here by association and luck of the draw. Don’t hate me Johnny baby it’s just facts. You never earned your spot at the top, I FUCKING CARRIED YOU HERE! That’s just facts. Without the Scandalous One coming to you with an envelope full of hopes and dreams, you’d be on the outside looking in with everyone else. It’s amazing to me how well you’ve taken to being big man on campus.
Time’s up.
You know how it ends when it comes you versus me. You know it never ends in your favor. Saturday will be no different because I’m going in to win the Championship by beating the Champion. It shouldn’t be you anyways. It was never supposed to be you, Johnny Baby. You were and still are my motherfucking pawn. You were and still are a washed up hack that needs the crutch of a lousy little faggot like Goodrich to keep your head above water. But it was the Scandalous One that pulled you out of that sea of nothingness. It was Sunshine Freakyshina Tony that let you onto my funky party yacht. I saved your career from drowning amongst the rest of these peasants. This game is chess not checkers, BUT I STILL WENT OUT OF MY WAY TO KING YOU! Yet I question if it was even worth it sometimes. I guarantee if All Star Showdown didn’t almost end my career, you would’ve been the last one of us three holding that title at the end of the night.
If God forbid the Scandalous One didn’t walk out on top, it would’ve been because you fucked up and let Zero get one over you before I could save you.
Just like you fucked up and allowed a sorry bitch like Molly Reid to get a win over us. Again, before I could save you. Now she can always say she got a little piss win over the Scandalous One.
Just like you fucked up and gave that trash ass saggy tit ho Fujiko the confidence to think she was on our level.
All you had was one job when I was defending my Pride title against Karma, but you fucked that up and cost me my belt.
Now you’re really fucking up by giving these EXODUS refugees hope. You and Zero both are making them all think they have a chance to come into my company and reach the top while my body is still warm and alive.
But fucking up is what you do best Johnny Boy. Fun fact. I’ve lost more matches since aligning with you two crooked-tooth-pip-pip-cherio-mutts than I ever did doing it all by myself. I can’t afford for you to keep fucking up, but one more time. Don’t stop disappointing me now, hun. Fuck up one more match on one more night. Let me slip through those cracks in your shield just one more time. Let me take advantage of your inadequacy for once, and use it for my own gain. I hope you’ve enjoyed carrying that belt around. I just hope you haven’t gotten too comfortable. The New Kings need to be on the same page and I hope you haven’t gotten too fucking selfish to remember who the star of this show is. There’s no reason why we both can’t rule over FGA, hand in hand Don’t be a Chandler. Don’t be a Seth Lawless. Don’t be a Josh Black. Don’t turn your back on me, because you won’t make it around here much longer. I’m looking around at the top of this mountain, and I don’t see a single fucking one of those names here with me. That, sweetheart, is not by coincidence. Everyone’s tried to hold me down for too long. In this business in my other businesses, it’s always something or someone in my way. But shit like that only stops a regular ugly duckling.
Nothing can kill me.
No nasty falls outside of the ring can take me out of this game. No regular man has the capacity to harm me but so much. That’s why I can say what I want and do what I want to do. I asked for every ounce of that ass whooping Zero gave me last Vertigo. I DESERVED every ounce of it. But I’m right here. I’m alive, in the middle of the ring, getting up to my feet. I’m rearing to go all night long with you two. I don’t give a shit who I have to #PimpShit or Always Sunny to get it, but I guarantee this title isn’t leaving my grasp. Cannon of all people should understand that. The New Kings started off with him and Diamond being HIRED guns to HELP ME win the FGA World Championship. Son of a bitch better not let any of this little “power” get inside of his head. He might be tough, but his time was up long ago. He might be a rough and tumble hard rock from the British streets, but I guarantee you he hasn’t seen the shit I seen. Zero might have gone Castaway for a year and who the fuck even cares where he was. I can STILL guarantee that he hasn’t seen what I’ve seen and done what I’ve done to get here. This journey didn’t just start at FGA. It didn’t just start at HKW, or PDW or XWA or IWF or anywhere else I’ve wrestled. This journey didn’t start with wrestling, but wrestling saved my life.
So with wrestling it will end…with Sunshine Scandalous Tony Carmine going down as the greatest man who laced a pair of boots.
Facts ONLY.
August 16, 2016
Miami, FL
Location: Premier Athletics [After Hours]
I was a few days away from the epic Do-Over. The most important match of my life, here it was.
My mind took me back to All-Star Showdown. Then back Final Frontier when I given that ungrateful good for nothing Chandler Scott everything I had. He threw it all me and I dodged nearly every bullet.
That was supposed to be my night, but no. In the end I just couldn’t dodge the kitchen sink.
I figured there would be another night, especially after my performance. I knew. I knew that there was nothing anyone could do to stop me from becoming FGA World Champion. Sunshine Tony is FGA. Sunshine Tony is the reason why those who know talent, tune into Vertigo every other week. Bieber Banks says it himself. I was and still am the hottest commodity in professional wrestling. I’m still waiting for someone to walk through those locker room doors and challenge me on that. By any means necessary, I am going to get to the apex of the mountain here and no matter if it’s Chandler Scott or Zero or Cindy or Cami D. Fucking Magna. It doesn’t fucking matter. There’s no way I’m going to relive All-Star Showdown again. There’s no way I’m going to relive Final Frontier again.
Failure is no longer an option. I can’t be looked at as the choke artist. For half of my life, I had always been looked at as good but not good enough. I can’t be looked at as the rest of them. I’m better than them all.
I refuse to be like Cyn and get continuously fucked over, over and over again. I refuse to be like Cordy and not be able to get the job done when it counts. Having to resort to dominating another division, and lowering my standards by teaming with a lifeless dying sheep who’s not only dying of age, but dying for relevance and legacy…wait. Ugh ok so maybe that’s a bad example, but I refuse to be like Jimmy Page who had to scratch and claw to get that top spot, only to start from square one after choking from the pressure.
That’s what everyone else does. They let that title fall on their lap, and they piss it away because they didn’t realize how heavy it was. I’m used to it. I’ve carried this fucking organization on my back for the last two and a half years. And whether Kenn Doll and Nicky want to admit it or not, I’ve carried THEIR organization for even longer. This world is mine.
“ANTONIO! Snap the fuck out of it.” I suddenly come to, realizing I zoned out smack in the middle of the ring. “Man I know I have a pretty mean clothesline, but I’ve never knocked someone out for that long.”
Martino helped me to get up to my feet. For a second, I forgot I was even training. “Sorry, I wasn’t out…just…”
“Just with your head in the goddamn clouds again right?” Nicky yelled from ringside. “Ok, you know what? Damon go get dressed, this session is finished.”
“Wait!” I pleaded with Nicky as Damon and Martino were about to exit the ring. “I…” Nick looked at me confused. “I just don’t feel ready.”
“You’re never going to feel ready Tony, you’ve been overthinking this thing for months. You’re ready. You’ve beaten the best of the best and you work hard, despite what others may think.” Nicky winked at me. “Even if you can be a bit of a sissy sometimes.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Mr. Model, you’re way more of a prima donna than I am!”
Martino was sitting on the turnbuckle, not laughing much. Stone killers have a terrible sense of humor. “Guys. This is fun and all, but we never got a chance to talk any business. What’s the story on this fruitcake hairdresser of yours?”
Nicky looked at me wondering the same thing. I had to stall. I couldn’t have them take matters in their own hands.
“Umm…I don’t know. I think he skipped town or something.” I said, brushing the issue off.
Marty wasn’t letting up. “Oh we we’ll find him. No doubt about that.”
I’m having doubts.
I know I know. You all are wondering how the Scandalous One could doubt himself when he’s supposed to have the grand master plan. Well that’s not the case at Above and Beyond. These last few months have been unlike any in my career. The Scandalous One looks gorgeous, but underneath my beautiful body and behind my luscious lips is a shit ton of doubt.
I’m supposed to be the one everyone hates so much, that they root for my opponents out of submission. But no one likes neither of us because we aren’t budging from our spots. FGA Management looks at the boat of EXODUS refugees coming. They look at the grizzly veterans who are desperate for another chance. They look at superstars in outside companies, putting together a list of people they want to see shine on their show.
They stack the odds against us. Why do you think the Scandalous One has gone through the gauntlet to finally get his rightful opportunity at the Holy Grail? They don’t want me here. No one wants me here. Everyone knows I belong here, but they’ll be damned if I get there because they know once I’m there…I’m never leaving. Once that FGA World title is around my waist, it’s never coming off. No one will beat me for it, and the bodies I’ve left lying in my path won’t even have a claim to take it from me because I would have already proven that none of these regular degulars have it in them to defeat me. What does the enemy do when they realize they can’t get to you? They revolt. They get desperate. So what’s everyone going to do when the inevitable happens? How is everyone in FGA going to react once they realize that any chance of them reaching that brass ring and grabbing my Holy Grail is dead? Will there be an uprising? Will The New Kings of FGA be dethroned in a coup?
Probably not. And that doubt inside of me comes from my own series of past misfortunate events. That doubt comes from the fact that the Scandalous One is never satisfied with only being the best. I don’t know how I can keep outdoing myself. My opponents don’t contribute to that doubt. When you measure us all up, I’m not the fucking underdog here. I’m exactly where all the smart money’s going.
I don’t doubt that we’re going to steal the show because that’s what we’ve done all year. I don’t doubt that we’re going to be the ones fighting for this top prize for months and months to come. I can hear the collective sighs from the masses, but who gives a shit? All of you allowed this to happen so there shouldn’t be any complaints. For the latter half of 2016, the three of us have dominated. We have conquered all divisions of FGA. We’ve taken out of the Somedays.
Meaning the ones who tell themselves and each other that even though they’re a heap of hot garbage, they’ll get to be where we are…Someday.
Meaning the bitches who sit on Twitter and hope we get what’s coming to us…Someday.
Meaning the faggots in the locker room who get knocked down by us time and again, hoping to finally avenge their losses…Someday.
The three of us might all have our differences, but the difference between us and the rest of you is we don’t live by Someday. We live by today. The now. We look at what’s going on currently. Or at least I do. I know even Cannon and Zero love diving into the past whenever they can but that’s because their best days in this business are behind them. The Scandalous One doesn’t look in the rear view mirror. I look ahead because that’s where MY best days are. If I wrestle another ten years, I’ll only be in my mid-30s and I’ll only be just scratching the surface. When you get to be like my opponents, a dying entity, you start to treat every match like it could be your last…because it really could be your last.
Johnny Cannon is one hernia away from slanging those same war stories I was on social media last month. Zero McHannon is shemale away from spending the rest of his life either in jail or in a casket. These are men that claim to have lived hardened lives. These are men that were probably trying to break into this business while I was still in High School being prettier than all the girls and cooler than all the guys. You two aren’t contemporaries to me. You two are some rusty fucking landmarks. You two are reminders of what I never want to become: old bastards trying to keep relevant no matter how desperate it makes them look.
Zero loves to get on his soap box after a few COCKtails and talk about how the refugees are muscling into his territory. He’s what Uncle Ruckus is to negro Mouliyans. Self-hating. Self-deprecating. You’re everything you claim to hate Mr. Mako. You’re cut from the same exact cloth that a cunt like Ruby Tyler is, yet you act as if she’s coming after your spot. She isn’t. She’s coming after mine. You act as if Chandler Scott avoids you and you allude to how he’s lost his edge. Sure, he lost his edge, but it had nothing to do with losing to you. Chandler is a shell of what he once was because I single-handedly took away his juice after I was done hitting the refresh button on his career. When Scotty was with the Scandalous One, he had all the confidence in the world to let the world know he was the best. Now he has no one on his side. Now he has no choice but to look up to the Sun and see The New Kings dominating a land he once owned the deed to. Now he has no choice but to shut the fuck up and let the grown folks handle their business. See what I do to men Zero? I break them down. No one in this business can stomach the fact that I’ve taken this company by the ballsack and I’ve played it and the people in it like a fiddle for over two years. No one, especially you Zero, can stomach the fact that they had so much success in other places. Yet when they get here, I shut them down. Management hates how successfully I’ve played their game.
The roadblocks that they throw to keep me away. The Lion’s Cup. The Gold Rush. The Lion’s Cup again. Before you know it, there will be something else. There’s always something else. This company loves to take the losers and give them 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 5th chances. I mean that’s the only way Zero got close to the gold in the first place. You got lucky. They put you in a forgiveness tournament with a few other pieces of shit who couldn’t lick the ground I walk on. As soon as I lost to Chandler Scott, they couldn’t wait to replace me with another number one contender. They couldn’t wait to push me down to the Pride division, hoping I’ll stay there stagnant. That’s where everyone thinks I belong. Almost there, but not quite there. Especially you.
You don’t take me seriously, as much as you act like you do. You beat Kenny Kasual like 4 years ago and you think that somehow measures what you can do against me? You beat Chandler Scott your first try and you think that puts you above me? You take my sweetness for weakness with no respect for my freakness. Since the day you got here, you never acknowledged me as the best. You see the Scandalous One and you don’t see someone who’s on your level. Well you shouldn’t because I’m above you, bitch.
It’s a good thing opinions don’t hold a candle to FACTS. When you came here, I was the top Star. When you won the FGA title for the first time, I WAS STILL THE TOP STAR. When you and Cindy were having to dumbest fucking 3-month-long argument of all time, I WAS STILL THE MOTHERFUCKING TOP STAR! No one’s ever given a fuck about you Zero. In every promotion you’ve ever worked for the only reason people tuned in to see you was because of the sucka you had static with at the time. Dig this, sweetie. NOTHING YOU SAY OR DO HAS EVER NOR WILL IT EVER MAKE YOU INTERESTING! It’s the same shit I used to tell Evangelista before she got tired of me kicking her skull in and left. You can be as good a wrestler as anyone. You can will all the matches you want, but if no one gives a fuck about you enough to tune in to see you, you aren’t worth shit. If people aren’t putting their hard feelings for others to the side just to watch them kick your ass, you aren’t worth shit. You need to stop trying to act like it’s you against the world. People want to like you Zero. They can relate to you and you can relate to them. Just like most people, you’re just an average alcoholic overly-sensitive blowhard that never gets laid and complains when other people get attention. The mediocre scums in the locker room look up to you, because you represent them and yet you shit on them any chance you get.
Zero wants to be a cool kid so bad that he’s completely killed the true him. This insecurity is why you’re so adamantly on this pro-FGA crusade when you weren’t one of the men who built this place. You’re raging war against your hometown troops and for what? So people won’t look at you the same way they look at Chris Bond? Broken and longing for that last flash of sunshine. No wonder you’re so defensive about your past, your looks and your legacy. No wonder you were so against this being a triple threat not once but twice. No wonder Cindy bothered you so much when she was around. You envy the fact that her career speaks for her. No wonder Cordy pisses you off so easily. Her career speaks for her. The Kings piss you off. Myself and Cannon’s career speaks for us. Brandon Banks’ career speaks for him. Alexa Corra’s career speaks for her. Fucking Kucci Mane’s too. Yet you? You’ll always have to be introduced. You’ll always have to remind people of what you’ve done. You’ll always have someone else on that tier above you looking down at you with disappointment; and after Above and Beyond, that’ll be me.
Or Cannon.
Actually no it’s going to be me.
Let’s be honest here, Johnny Cannon is here by association and luck of the draw. Don’t hate me Johnny baby it’s just facts. You never earned your spot at the top, I FUCKING CARRIED YOU HERE! That’s just facts. Without the Scandalous One coming to you with an envelope full of hopes and dreams, you’d be on the outside looking in with everyone else. It’s amazing to me how well you’ve taken to being big man on campus.
Time’s up.
You know how it ends when it comes you versus me. You know it never ends in your favor. Saturday will be no different because I’m going in to win the Championship by beating the Champion. It shouldn’t be you anyways. It was never supposed to be you, Johnny Baby. You were and still are my motherfucking pawn. You were and still are a washed up hack that needs the crutch of a lousy little faggot like Goodrich to keep your head above water. But it was the Scandalous One that pulled you out of that sea of nothingness. It was Sunshine Freakyshina Tony that let you onto my funky party yacht. I saved your career from drowning amongst the rest of these peasants. This game is chess not checkers, BUT I STILL WENT OUT OF MY WAY TO KING YOU! Yet I question if it was even worth it sometimes. I guarantee if All Star Showdown didn’t almost end my career, you would’ve been the last one of us three holding that title at the end of the night.
If God forbid the Scandalous One didn’t walk out on top, it would’ve been because you fucked up and let Zero get one over you before I could save you.
Just like you fucked up and allowed a sorry bitch like Molly Reid to get a win over us. Again, before I could save you. Now she can always say she got a little piss win over the Scandalous One.
Just like you fucked up and gave that trash ass saggy tit ho Fujiko the confidence to think she was on our level.
All you had was one job when I was defending my Pride title against Karma, but you fucked that up and cost me my belt.
Now you’re really fucking up by giving these EXODUS refugees hope. You and Zero both are making them all think they have a chance to come into my company and reach the top while my body is still warm and alive.
But fucking up is what you do best Johnny Boy. Fun fact. I’ve lost more matches since aligning with you two crooked-tooth-pip-pip-cherio-mutts than I ever did doing it all by myself. I can’t afford for you to keep fucking up, but one more time. Don’t stop disappointing me now, hun. Fuck up one more match on one more night. Let me slip through those cracks in your shield just one more time. Let me take advantage of your inadequacy for once, and use it for my own gain. I hope you’ve enjoyed carrying that belt around. I just hope you haven’t gotten too comfortable. The New Kings need to be on the same page and I hope you haven’t gotten too fucking selfish to remember who the star of this show is. There’s no reason why we both can’t rule over FGA, hand in hand Don’t be a Chandler. Don’t be a Seth Lawless. Don’t be a Josh Black. Don’t turn your back on me, because you won’t make it around here much longer. I’m looking around at the top of this mountain, and I don’t see a single fucking one of those names here with me. That, sweetheart, is not by coincidence. Everyone’s tried to hold me down for too long. In this business in my other businesses, it’s always something or someone in my way. But shit like that only stops a regular ugly duckling.
Nothing can kill me.
No nasty falls outside of the ring can take me out of this game. No regular man has the capacity to harm me but so much. That’s why I can say what I want and do what I want to do. I asked for every ounce of that ass whooping Zero gave me last Vertigo. I DESERVED every ounce of it. But I’m right here. I’m alive, in the middle of the ring, getting up to my feet. I’m rearing to go all night long with you two. I don’t give a shit who I have to #PimpShit or Always Sunny to get it, but I guarantee this title isn’t leaving my grasp. Cannon of all people should understand that. The New Kings started off with him and Diamond being HIRED guns to HELP ME win the FGA World Championship. Son of a bitch better not let any of this little “power” get inside of his head. He might be tough, but his time was up long ago. He might be a rough and tumble hard rock from the British streets, but I guarantee you he hasn’t seen the shit I seen. Zero might have gone Castaway for a year and who the fuck even cares where he was. I can STILL guarantee that he hasn’t seen what I’ve seen and done what I’ve done to get here. This journey didn’t just start at FGA. It didn’t just start at HKW, or PDW or XWA or IWF or anywhere else I’ve wrestled. This journey didn’t start with wrestling, but wrestling saved my life.
So with wrestling it will end…with Sunshine Scandalous Tony Carmine going down as the greatest man who laced a pair of boots.
Facts ONLY.