Post by huntertheantichrist on Jun 23, 2022 13:16:16 GMT -5
The roar of the engine was a bit of therapy as the vehicle lurched forward. The worst part of this shit was that my knee has to bend to get in the car. This is the type of pain that no human ever wants to feel. The sad part is that pain is a daily reminder of the things my body has been put through over twenty years of dominance. The type of dominance that very few in this industry have ever dreamed of let alone fucking lived.
The car was humming at a nice pace even though every time the gears shift it caused pain to go up my leg from my damaged knee and ankle. Pain has been my sole companion for years. The type of pain that lets you know you are alive. The only recourse is to swallow hard and take it. To embrace that pain is something very few will ever understand.
I am not going to talk a bunch of shit about my opponents this past week at the Hammerstein Ballroom. It took digging down deep when I was in that hold that was tearing my knee the fuck apart. A decision had to be made about the intelligence of this decision to return to wrestling. Well lets be real here. OPW is not wrestling in any way, shape, form, or fashion. Wrestling is about competition. That trash that was put on this past week was far from that.
People were not allowed to really compete. You had a bullshit run-in every single match. The worst part is the people doing these boring ass run-ins are the most useless, lying , and delusional pieces of shit to ever walk the Earth. Chris Gibson and Scotty Adams. Jesus Christ, were Devin Stone and Avalanche busy?
Chris Gibson is barely worthy of his name exiting my lips so we will let the so-called King take care of that situation. By the way Ryan, way to steal my words from last week. My focus this week is on Scotty Adams. Scotty, my boy, you tried. I mean you fucking failed like you always do but you did try. You tried to shit all over the work of the men and women that put this belt on the map. You tried to shit all over Pugh, XXX, Roger Wright, Johnny, and myself. You tried to make my belt a Purity Championship. You tried to make yourself relevant and fucking failed. You tried to convince the world that you were some sort of pure wrestler and failed.
Everything you tried to do to the legacy of this title proved my original point about you. The sad part is all your lame ass little run did, was prove me right. You are a lying piece of fucking shit and have been since I met your sorry ass. Jesus Christ, you can't even die right. SO now you want to put people through tables and hit people with objects. Your purity bullshit can go fuck off. You have turned into what you claimed to despise. I always knew you were a lying sack of dogshit, so I was not shocked in the least. Take your little crybaby shit somewhere else, you little fucking useless piece of fucking shit.
The car skids to a stop in the parking lot. That was one more thing that made my ass wince as the pain once again shot up my leg and ankle. When a person wins a match there is always a sacrifice. I did smack that Queen of the Night wannabe in the face with a shovel. I did pin O'ROurke for the pin fall. There was damage to my knee and ankle. That is something an X-Core Champion has to deal with.
The car door swings open and my wobbling ass limps out of it. Great care had to be taken not to put weight on it. With a grimace, it was time to walk into the store and get the one thing that will ease my pain. Life only begins after the first cup of coffee.
This was not the right time to go for a coffee as there was a whole store full of people. The concoction was sweet on my lips as the slow limp to the register took place. There were at least ten people in front of me. the blood was flowing through my ankle as the pain started to ramp up. It had to be determined if this wait was worth it.
"Aren't you Hunter Valentyne? My boyfriend is always talking about wrestling to the point it gets highly annoying. I was wondering since we are in this line and not going anywhere if you would consider taking a selfie."
The girl did have a valid point about this long ass line. This line was even more annoying than a pointless 30 minute opening segment to start the worst wrestling show in the history of the sport. Taking a selfie was not the worst request a fan ever asked for.
"I see no problem with that. I am curious as to why this line is not moving. The same old lady has been up there since i walked in the door."
"I am not sure what is going on with that. I am just going back to work so I guess I am not in a hurry to get back to that hellhole. I can go up and see what is gong on."
"I will walk up there and see what the fuck is going on. You are a very good looking woman who that old lady might think she can run over. Nobody is running the fuck over me. I will be right back."
The lady was standing in front of the register leaning on it like she owned the fucking place. I hate this type of self entitlement. I have fought against that entitlement my entire career which is why Chris Gibson is the useless mother fucker that he is today. Your mother fucking welcome. The old lady kept running her fucking mouth like a pointless Johnny Stylez promo. I really didn't want to be the type of dick I used to be, but that asshole is still in there when it is needed.
"You know it has been a while since we caught up. You know my mother had surgery on her left eye to get that stye taken care of. You remember the one, Linda? She is getting better but I still have to wait on her until she gets back on her feet. It is really good to catch up with you."
"What the fuck is going on here? There is a long ass line and you are up here shooting the shit. You fucking story is as boring and pointless as a Scotty Adams run-in. Now you have two options, you old bitch. You cant shut your mouth and let this woman do her fucking job. Or you can get hit in the face. You are in control of your destiny, much like Scotty Adams and Chris SHitson. Now what the fuck is it going to be?"
"How dare you speak to me like that! DO you know who the I am? I can talk to the owner and get your fired, young man. Now quit being rude to me and let me finish my story. Go sweep the floor or something."
People like this are so fucking annoying. These people are like the wrestlers I deal with each day of my life. They think the company and the world owe them something, when they totally suck. People like the dip shit that will step into the ring with me in New York City. He will tell you how dark and evil he is. He will tell the world what a bad ass he is. He will tell the world he is going to kick my ass. Then when the match happens and the entire crowd at Barclays laughs at how much he sucks, he will move to his next match like it is someone else's fault. This entitlement is one of the reasons why I came the fuck back.
The lady kept running her fucking mouth like they all do. A handful of hair stopped all of that as she was afraid for her life. She did not know my only goal was to buy my fucking coffee and leave. I wasn't going to do to her what I did to Necra Octavian Kane. She did not need to know that.
"Now get the fuck out of here! Did you really think I worked here? Shut the fuck up Karen."
Why do these people need to make me do extra when my knee and ankle are fucking killing me? You would think the lady at the register would comp me the coffee so I could leave, but here I am at the end of the fucking line. This must be what every member of the roster is going to feel eventually. They will take their best shot at the King of X-Core. They will get smacked the fuck up by the most violent wrestler in history and go to the end of the line with nothing. They will wait to get to the front of the line and then get destroyed all over again.
"How in the heck are you going to wrestle this week in New York? You can barely walk and you are going to be in another X-Core match. My boyfriend told me those are the most violent matches in wrestling history. Can I get that selfie now? I want to post it on Facebook."
With a limp, my crippled ass walks to her and we smile for the camera with my arm around her. She talks about her boyfriend every other sentence but we both know it wouldn't take much to fuck her. I have everything the bitches look for. I am on television(kind of), I have money, I have the body and the looks. The only thing lacking is a willingness to put up with toxic bullshit. That weak ass dude can have her.
"My boyfriend told me to tell you thank you. He said that you have a tough match in front of you. You are facing John Reaper and he says that you are going to have a tough time. Reaper believes in the paranormal and has a little girl that does his bidding. Or, does he do her bidding? Sounds like a weirdo."
"Tell your boyfriend to chill the fuck out. Do you really think legends worry about little j-brones that do not matter? He is just another match for the King of X-Core. I can guarantee you that he is far more worried about me than I am about him. He will put on a nice little match. He will get a few moves in and then get beat the fuck up. He will be another in a long line of victims at the hands of the most violent man in the history of wrestling. John Reaper is just another piece of business that must be done before I get to my ultimate goal. That goal is to take that lame ass Immortal Title. Not because I want it, but because Johnny doesn't want me to have it."
"Why did you even come back to wrestling in the first place? You have accomplished everything there is to accomplish, according to my boyfriend. You have nothing else to prove to anyone. Why would you do this to yourself after your years away?"
"It was never about winning a belt. Winning the belt after two years away was nice, but the goal is to keep the belts away from those who are unworthy of sharing that accomplishment with me. You think Kane is worthy of that honor? The prestige of this belt had to be restored at all costs, or my sacrifice meant nothing. I had to win this battle with Scotty Adams. That is why I came the fuck back. He tried his best to shit all over my hard work and what did it get him? He tried to make the Purity Title a thing. What did that accomplish? I am still sitting here today with the X-Core title. Not the Purity Title. Not the Pureblood title. My fucking X-Core title. No matter what happens moving forward, I beat that lying piece of shit."
"Good Luck, Mister Valentyne!"
"Luck is for losers like John Reaper, Scotty Adams, and Chris Gibson. John Reaper is getting his ass kicked and there will be no four leaf clovers or rabbit feet that are going to save his ass from the beating he is soon to get inside of the Barclay Center. He will try but he will fail like the rest. It is not personal, dipshit. Just business."
The car was humming at a nice pace even though every time the gears shift it caused pain to go up my leg from my damaged knee and ankle. Pain has been my sole companion for years. The type of pain that lets you know you are alive. The only recourse is to swallow hard and take it. To embrace that pain is something very few will ever understand.
I am not going to talk a bunch of shit about my opponents this past week at the Hammerstein Ballroom. It took digging down deep when I was in that hold that was tearing my knee the fuck apart. A decision had to be made about the intelligence of this decision to return to wrestling. Well lets be real here. OPW is not wrestling in any way, shape, form, or fashion. Wrestling is about competition. That trash that was put on this past week was far from that.
People were not allowed to really compete. You had a bullshit run-in every single match. The worst part is the people doing these boring ass run-ins are the most useless, lying , and delusional pieces of shit to ever walk the Earth. Chris Gibson and Scotty Adams. Jesus Christ, were Devin Stone and Avalanche busy?
Chris Gibson is barely worthy of his name exiting my lips so we will let the so-called King take care of that situation. By the way Ryan, way to steal my words from last week. My focus this week is on Scotty Adams. Scotty, my boy, you tried. I mean you fucking failed like you always do but you did try. You tried to shit all over the work of the men and women that put this belt on the map. You tried to shit all over Pugh, XXX, Roger Wright, Johnny, and myself. You tried to make my belt a Purity Championship. You tried to make yourself relevant and fucking failed. You tried to convince the world that you were some sort of pure wrestler and failed.
Everything you tried to do to the legacy of this title proved my original point about you. The sad part is all your lame ass little run did, was prove me right. You are a lying piece of fucking shit and have been since I met your sorry ass. Jesus Christ, you can't even die right. SO now you want to put people through tables and hit people with objects. Your purity bullshit can go fuck off. You have turned into what you claimed to despise. I always knew you were a lying sack of dogshit, so I was not shocked in the least. Take your little crybaby shit somewhere else, you little fucking useless piece of fucking shit.
The car skids to a stop in the parking lot. That was one more thing that made my ass wince as the pain once again shot up my leg and ankle. When a person wins a match there is always a sacrifice. I did smack that Queen of the Night wannabe in the face with a shovel. I did pin O'ROurke for the pin fall. There was damage to my knee and ankle. That is something an X-Core Champion has to deal with.
The car door swings open and my wobbling ass limps out of it. Great care had to be taken not to put weight on it. With a grimace, it was time to walk into the store and get the one thing that will ease my pain. Life only begins after the first cup of coffee.
This was not the right time to go for a coffee as there was a whole store full of people. The concoction was sweet on my lips as the slow limp to the register took place. There were at least ten people in front of me. the blood was flowing through my ankle as the pain started to ramp up. It had to be determined if this wait was worth it.
"Aren't you Hunter Valentyne? My boyfriend is always talking about wrestling to the point it gets highly annoying. I was wondering since we are in this line and not going anywhere if you would consider taking a selfie."
The girl did have a valid point about this long ass line. This line was even more annoying than a pointless 30 minute opening segment to start the worst wrestling show in the history of the sport. Taking a selfie was not the worst request a fan ever asked for.
"I see no problem with that. I am curious as to why this line is not moving. The same old lady has been up there since i walked in the door."
"I am not sure what is going on with that. I am just going back to work so I guess I am not in a hurry to get back to that hellhole. I can go up and see what is gong on."
"I will walk up there and see what the fuck is going on. You are a very good looking woman who that old lady might think she can run over. Nobody is running the fuck over me. I will be right back."
The lady was standing in front of the register leaning on it like she owned the fucking place. I hate this type of self entitlement. I have fought against that entitlement my entire career which is why Chris Gibson is the useless mother fucker that he is today. Your mother fucking welcome. The old lady kept running her fucking mouth like a pointless Johnny Stylez promo. I really didn't want to be the type of dick I used to be, but that asshole is still in there when it is needed.
"You know it has been a while since we caught up. You know my mother had surgery on her left eye to get that stye taken care of. You remember the one, Linda? She is getting better but I still have to wait on her until she gets back on her feet. It is really good to catch up with you."
"What the fuck is going on here? There is a long ass line and you are up here shooting the shit. You fucking story is as boring and pointless as a Scotty Adams run-in. Now you have two options, you old bitch. You cant shut your mouth and let this woman do her fucking job. Or you can get hit in the face. You are in control of your destiny, much like Scotty Adams and Chris SHitson. Now what the fuck is it going to be?"
"How dare you speak to me like that! DO you know who the I am? I can talk to the owner and get your fired, young man. Now quit being rude to me and let me finish my story. Go sweep the floor or something."
People like this are so fucking annoying. These people are like the wrestlers I deal with each day of my life. They think the company and the world owe them something, when they totally suck. People like the dip shit that will step into the ring with me in New York City. He will tell you how dark and evil he is. He will tell the world what a bad ass he is. He will tell the world he is going to kick my ass. Then when the match happens and the entire crowd at Barclays laughs at how much he sucks, he will move to his next match like it is someone else's fault. This entitlement is one of the reasons why I came the fuck back.
The lady kept running her fucking mouth like they all do. A handful of hair stopped all of that as she was afraid for her life. She did not know my only goal was to buy my fucking coffee and leave. I wasn't going to do to her what I did to Necra Octavian Kane. She did not need to know that.
"Now get the fuck out of here! Did you really think I worked here? Shut the fuck up Karen."
Why do these people need to make me do extra when my knee and ankle are fucking killing me? You would think the lady at the register would comp me the coffee so I could leave, but here I am at the end of the fucking line. This must be what every member of the roster is going to feel eventually. They will take their best shot at the King of X-Core. They will get smacked the fuck up by the most violent wrestler in history and go to the end of the line with nothing. They will wait to get to the front of the line and then get destroyed all over again.
"How in the heck are you going to wrestle this week in New York? You can barely walk and you are going to be in another X-Core match. My boyfriend told me those are the most violent matches in wrestling history. Can I get that selfie now? I want to post it on Facebook."
With a limp, my crippled ass walks to her and we smile for the camera with my arm around her. She talks about her boyfriend every other sentence but we both know it wouldn't take much to fuck her. I have everything the bitches look for. I am on television(kind of), I have money, I have the body and the looks. The only thing lacking is a willingness to put up with toxic bullshit. That weak ass dude can have her.
"My boyfriend told me to tell you thank you. He said that you have a tough match in front of you. You are facing John Reaper and he says that you are going to have a tough time. Reaper believes in the paranormal and has a little girl that does his bidding. Or, does he do her bidding? Sounds like a weirdo."
"Tell your boyfriend to chill the fuck out. Do you really think legends worry about little j-brones that do not matter? He is just another match for the King of X-Core. I can guarantee you that he is far more worried about me than I am about him. He will put on a nice little match. He will get a few moves in and then get beat the fuck up. He will be another in a long line of victims at the hands of the most violent man in the history of wrestling. John Reaper is just another piece of business that must be done before I get to my ultimate goal. That goal is to take that lame ass Immortal Title. Not because I want it, but because Johnny doesn't want me to have it."
"Why did you even come back to wrestling in the first place? You have accomplished everything there is to accomplish, according to my boyfriend. You have nothing else to prove to anyone. Why would you do this to yourself after your years away?"
"It was never about winning a belt. Winning the belt after two years away was nice, but the goal is to keep the belts away from those who are unworthy of sharing that accomplishment with me. You think Kane is worthy of that honor? The prestige of this belt had to be restored at all costs, or my sacrifice meant nothing. I had to win this battle with Scotty Adams. That is why I came the fuck back. He tried his best to shit all over my hard work and what did it get him? He tried to make the Purity Title a thing. What did that accomplish? I am still sitting here today with the X-Core title. Not the Purity Title. Not the Pureblood title. My fucking X-Core title. No matter what happens moving forward, I beat that lying piece of shit."
"Good Luck, Mister Valentyne!"
"Luck is for losers like John Reaper, Scotty Adams, and Chris Gibson. John Reaper is getting his ass kicked and there will be no four leaf clovers or rabbit feet that are going to save his ass from the beating he is soon to get inside of the Barclay Center. He will try but he will fail like the rest. It is not personal, dipshit. Just business."