Post by Abdul bin Hussain on Apr 1, 2020 13:26:21 GMT -5
“Now that we are here in Allentown we need to make sure we are ready Rafiq,” Abdul said. “They will need all of the planets aligned for them or that more than likely it has to be Allah’s Will that they can stop us my friend. With Fazil and Ahmed fighting my cause these infidels will need to do more than just run their mouths this time round. They think their racist and disrespectful comments can hide their disdain of something that they do not understand will win them this war in the long run.”
Rafiq nodded to his charge’s words.
“It is lucky for them that we are having this show in their territory are we not? Can you imagine all the trouble they would get if they had this show in somewhere like Iraq? They think that they have it hard in this country of theirs?” Abdul asked. “It is all in the evolution of the species. Sometimes evolution is a direct result of its environment. This is bad news for the human species, especially the Americans. As their life gets easier with each passing decade, humanity gets weaker. There was a time when the slow and stupid were routinely picked off by predators and the harsh conditions. These flawed humans tended to die off before getting a chance to propagate their defective genetic material; no longer.”
Abdul shook his head as he walked around the room.
“Now, any of these drooling simpletons can pick up a pick up a mobile telephone and have food delivered, paid for by money the government gives to them,” he said. “Many countries especially the United States of Mediocre directly incentivize the poor to breed, increasing their payments for each additional child they dump into the gene pool. The defective offshoot of our evolutionary progress is not only surviving, it is thriving. Take a look at the people of this country; they are perfect examples of the morons that this planet has devolved into.”
Rafiq nodded. “I totally agree, I can see these morons eating themselves to death in every restaurant we go into with their meals being three times the size of anywhere else and don’t get me started on their fast food restaurants. But with this virus on the loose it is going to be interesting how long it takes them to degenerate into something from a Mad Max movie.”
“Additionally with the rise of the Internet and the advancement of personal computers has created a situation where humans are outsourcing much of their thinking,” Abdul said. “Why do the math when you can just push a few buttons and get the same result? The answer is this; while such shortcuts are convenience in the short term, our neural pathways are created and strengthened through use. In a real very sense, thinking makes you smarter.”
Nazirah turned and looked at Rafiq with confusion showing in her eyes.
“If you look around at the world, the majority of the people of the developed world carry in their pockets computers that put most of the home desktop models to shame,” Abdul continued. “With each passing years, more and more of human thought is happening outside of the brain an there will be consequences for that as a species. The sad reality is that people are devolving. Is it too late to right this sinking ship and correct this problem through genetic manipulation?”
“Talking about devolving, do you see that they have decided to have you booked in some kind of X-Kore match here in Allentown should we even turn up as they’ve not complied with your instructions?” Rafiq asked as he looked on.
“Turn up?” Abdul laughed. “Turn up? Do you think this is about some little infidels that think that they hold all the cards turns up for a wrestling match? Rafiq this is not about some little wrestling match my friend. No, this is about who has the power. Trump thinks that because he sits in his ivory tower throwing insults after insults at the rest of the world on social media because he thinks that he is better than everyone. No Rafiq, even with their verbal masturbation the owners of this promotion have can stop me coming here and putting waste to their plans of word domination. All of them can throw their weight around but they do not control us. Even giving me a shot at that harlot that has the belt that is rightfully mine will not make me their puppet.”
“So why are we going to the show?” said a confused looking Rafiq. “Why are we going to be putting on this spectacular then? I don’t understand why we would put ourselves in this situation. Why would we not have called out someone of the self-proclaimed calibre of that holds the Immortal Championship or even just face the one that holds the X-Kore Championship belt after his match as we know Scotty Addams will win, both are top talent within the company but both show their true infidel colours out week after week on their shows. They would have made more of an impact for our cause.”
“Cause?” Abdul mocked. “What do you know of the cause? I was trailblazing the cause when you were living in your little house in Iraq. I found you, I groomed you into what you are today and don’t forget that. As for impact, what match do you think the world media will be talking about the day after this week’s show? Do you think that they will be talking about any of the other snore fests on the show? Anika Swan is so much of a transitional paper champion with the Immortal Championship that when I take the championship off of her that will be the final nail in the companies casket……”
“True,” said Rafiq as he interrupted Abdul which he instantly regretted from the look he got.
“……..and then you have the OPW Southern Champion, Blair Buchanan I believe her name is? How many times has this slut been married? Does she spread her legs just to get a championship shot in any promotion she is in? Does she really think that the world gives a damn about her failures in life? Blair does not really even have the skills to be in this sport especially as she is another woman but seems to have volunteered by her husband as some kind of scapegoat for this Southern Division. Do they think that it will be a great wrestling match with her in the division? Nobody will be talking about her the day after she loses her championship belt; maybe she’ll be looking for another husband by then; isn’t Eddie Havok single? She should be covered up anyway, who wants to see all of the skin on show especially as she can’t go near a naked flame as she would probably melt from all of that plastic; Horrible human being.”
“So it’s all about the thrill of it?” Rafiq asked. “Now you’ve come back to a wrestling promotion in the United States of Mediocre you want to showcase your skills.”
"The thrill? Is that what you think, eh?" Abdul smirked as he rolled his eyes dramatically, folding his arms across his chest. "Do people get a thrill from listening to that racist Trump? He says things to get a reaction Rafiq. Now we must turn it all on his head and the thrill will be all yours Rafiq. Is Trump for real? I don’t get it, right?"
Nazirah, his sister, grimaced behind her veil in turn to her brother's question, recalling a picture she had seen of the man that had been her brother’s target in some tabloid paper only a few weeks prior. "He thinks because he has the power of those Neanderthal Americans behind him. I thought America couldn’t get any worse after those two last war mongers but how wrong could I be. But he will never be a good Arabian man Abdul. I think he wants to get famous for being the infidel that brings the world to nuclear war. Well that is unless they all die from this pandemic before Easter."
Abdul suddenly barked with laughter, slapping the table as his eyes lit up in amusement. "Even though you are a woman you can be funny, sometimes but I digress sister, myself and Rafiq were having a conversation which women are not supposed to be involved in. Do you really think it is your place to interrupt us when we are deep in conversation?"
Nazirah hesitated to answer, but she did not have to when another voice suddenly chimed in for her. "Actually, yes."
Abdul, Rafiq and Nazirah all turned to see another man walking towards them, his clothes slightly worn and a faded black eye patch over his left eye. A wooden cane rested at his right side as he ambled towards them with a slight limp.
"Cousin Akram," A wide grin suddenly broke out over Abdul's face. As he neared Abdul amiably slapped a hand over the man's back. " As-salamu alaykum. Where have you been?" he grinned.
"As-salamu alaykum. Sorting out some problems with getting Visas for us to go back home but with this pandemic upon us it is taking way to long. I apologize it took so long." The man's voice had a slow cadence to it and he talked quietly, as if it physically hurt him to raise his voice. Despite this, his words were clear-cut and precise, and he accentuated his words with acute deliberateness. He sighed and rested his weight on his cane. "I will get the information to you as soon as my contacts all get back to me but we can count out the American government so it must be freelance."
Akram's general air and manner of speech suggested that he was born of high class, yet at the same time, his slightly worn-out clothes and eye patch seemed to suggest otherwise. His one good eye drooped something terrible and looked haggard, as if it had seen all the horrors of the world and lived to tell the tale. His hands were dotted with brown spots that had gradually accumulated with age and his skin was tanned.
"Really," Abdul rumbled in response to Akram's information. A devious smirk slid across his features. "This is not going to be fun for those that get in my way trying to find out who has him, Outlaw Pro Wrestling will not know what has hit it. They will be gobsmacked if they don’t get him back for me."
The elder man nodded, his gaze briefly wandering towards Abdul’s sister Nazirah, glancing over her uninterestedly before turning back towards Abdul. "Trump is a punk. He is not even good enough to carry your charges bags. Are you going to be okay with your match against this Violence guy? I know your associates put their hands on him a few weeks back, he won’t forget that especially as his harlot as the special referee."
Abdul nodded his head and Akram continued on, unfazed.
"Do you really think that I will get in the squared circle for this X-Kore Division?" he stopped, thinking over his next words carefully. "I will not step into the ring until it is sanctioned as a proper wrestling match as do wrestler’s use chairs or even tables? I do not think so. Also I will not wrestle with anyone that has not got the proper paper work to prove that they have gone through the mandatory fourteen days self-isolation as I do not want this virus."
“This is true,” Abdul said. "How is it that you are here anyway?"
Akram shifted his weight and then winced when he put too much pressure on his bad leg. When he looked up again, he shook his head forlornly. "To put it simply, Abdul, they're trying to steal your limelight. This is all supposed to be about Abdul bin Hussain not these infidels. We need to let you free to destroy those infidels in the ring."
Abdul took in this information wordlessly, listening with rapt attention. Once Akram had finished, the Butcher of Basra nodded his head ardently, his eyes suddenly livid and his tone dark. "They will feel the wrath," he growled fervently. "I—I need to teach them how to verbally destroy my opponents before I even set one foot within the squared circle. When that is done I will be ready to destroy them within it."
Akram and Nazirah exchanged furtive glances with one another while Abdul began to shuffle through his pockets frantically, searching for his cell phone. "This is not going to happen," he said angrily. "I will be running this promotion soon. And no one is going to get in the way."
Once he had located his cell phone, he tossed it towards Nazirah and the woman caught it in her hands, momentarily confused. "Get Akeem on the phone. Tell him I need a car and we need to get back to our meeting. He'll know what to do."
"What are you going to do about that Violence guy?" Akram inquired, his one eye narrowed.
"Nothing. This ah, this punk here will probably take care of him soon enough,” he said. “The match will be his demise. He is not important."
Akram nodded while Nazirah momentarily stepped out of the kitchen, busy on the phone. Rafiq suddenly made a coughing noise behind Abdul to get his attention and he and Akram both turned to look at him.
“I will not let you down,” he said. “Either of you.”
Rafiq nodded to his charge’s words.
“It is lucky for them that we are having this show in their territory are we not? Can you imagine all the trouble they would get if they had this show in somewhere like Iraq? They think that they have it hard in this country of theirs?” Abdul asked. “It is all in the evolution of the species. Sometimes evolution is a direct result of its environment. This is bad news for the human species, especially the Americans. As their life gets easier with each passing decade, humanity gets weaker. There was a time when the slow and stupid were routinely picked off by predators and the harsh conditions. These flawed humans tended to die off before getting a chance to propagate their defective genetic material; no longer.”
Abdul shook his head as he walked around the room.
“Now, any of these drooling simpletons can pick up a pick up a mobile telephone and have food delivered, paid for by money the government gives to them,” he said. “Many countries especially the United States of Mediocre directly incentivize the poor to breed, increasing their payments for each additional child they dump into the gene pool. The defective offshoot of our evolutionary progress is not only surviving, it is thriving. Take a look at the people of this country; they are perfect examples of the morons that this planet has devolved into.”
Rafiq nodded. “I totally agree, I can see these morons eating themselves to death in every restaurant we go into with their meals being three times the size of anywhere else and don’t get me started on their fast food restaurants. But with this virus on the loose it is going to be interesting how long it takes them to degenerate into something from a Mad Max movie.”
“Additionally with the rise of the Internet and the advancement of personal computers has created a situation where humans are outsourcing much of their thinking,” Abdul said. “Why do the math when you can just push a few buttons and get the same result? The answer is this; while such shortcuts are convenience in the short term, our neural pathways are created and strengthened through use. In a real very sense, thinking makes you smarter.”
Nazirah turned and looked at Rafiq with confusion showing in her eyes.
“If you look around at the world, the majority of the people of the developed world carry in their pockets computers that put most of the home desktop models to shame,” Abdul continued. “With each passing years, more and more of human thought is happening outside of the brain an there will be consequences for that as a species. The sad reality is that people are devolving. Is it too late to right this sinking ship and correct this problem through genetic manipulation?”
“Talking about devolving, do you see that they have decided to have you booked in some kind of X-Kore match here in Allentown should we even turn up as they’ve not complied with your instructions?” Rafiq asked as he looked on.
“Turn up?” Abdul laughed. “Turn up? Do you think this is about some little infidels that think that they hold all the cards turns up for a wrestling match? Rafiq this is not about some little wrestling match my friend. No, this is about who has the power. Trump thinks that because he sits in his ivory tower throwing insults after insults at the rest of the world on social media because he thinks that he is better than everyone. No Rafiq, even with their verbal masturbation the owners of this promotion have can stop me coming here and putting waste to their plans of word domination. All of them can throw their weight around but they do not control us. Even giving me a shot at that harlot that has the belt that is rightfully mine will not make me their puppet.”
“So why are we going to the show?” said a confused looking Rafiq. “Why are we going to be putting on this spectacular then? I don’t understand why we would put ourselves in this situation. Why would we not have called out someone of the self-proclaimed calibre of that holds the Immortal Championship or even just face the one that holds the X-Kore Championship belt after his match as we know Scotty Addams will win, both are top talent within the company but both show their true infidel colours out week after week on their shows. They would have made more of an impact for our cause.”
“Cause?” Abdul mocked. “What do you know of the cause? I was trailblazing the cause when you were living in your little house in Iraq. I found you, I groomed you into what you are today and don’t forget that. As for impact, what match do you think the world media will be talking about the day after this week’s show? Do you think that they will be talking about any of the other snore fests on the show? Anika Swan is so much of a transitional paper champion with the Immortal Championship that when I take the championship off of her that will be the final nail in the companies casket……”
“True,” said Rafiq as he interrupted Abdul which he instantly regretted from the look he got.
“……..and then you have the OPW Southern Champion, Blair Buchanan I believe her name is? How many times has this slut been married? Does she spread her legs just to get a championship shot in any promotion she is in? Does she really think that the world gives a damn about her failures in life? Blair does not really even have the skills to be in this sport especially as she is another woman but seems to have volunteered by her husband as some kind of scapegoat for this Southern Division. Do they think that it will be a great wrestling match with her in the division? Nobody will be talking about her the day after she loses her championship belt; maybe she’ll be looking for another husband by then; isn’t Eddie Havok single? She should be covered up anyway, who wants to see all of the skin on show especially as she can’t go near a naked flame as she would probably melt from all of that plastic; Horrible human being.”
“So it’s all about the thrill of it?” Rafiq asked. “Now you’ve come back to a wrestling promotion in the United States of Mediocre you want to showcase your skills.”
"The thrill? Is that what you think, eh?" Abdul smirked as he rolled his eyes dramatically, folding his arms across his chest. "Do people get a thrill from listening to that racist Trump? He says things to get a reaction Rafiq. Now we must turn it all on his head and the thrill will be all yours Rafiq. Is Trump for real? I don’t get it, right?"
Nazirah, his sister, grimaced behind her veil in turn to her brother's question, recalling a picture she had seen of the man that had been her brother’s target in some tabloid paper only a few weeks prior. "He thinks because he has the power of those Neanderthal Americans behind him. I thought America couldn’t get any worse after those two last war mongers but how wrong could I be. But he will never be a good Arabian man Abdul. I think he wants to get famous for being the infidel that brings the world to nuclear war. Well that is unless they all die from this pandemic before Easter."
Abdul suddenly barked with laughter, slapping the table as his eyes lit up in amusement. "Even though you are a woman you can be funny, sometimes but I digress sister, myself and Rafiq were having a conversation which women are not supposed to be involved in. Do you really think it is your place to interrupt us when we are deep in conversation?"
Nazirah hesitated to answer, but she did not have to when another voice suddenly chimed in for her. "Actually, yes."
Abdul, Rafiq and Nazirah all turned to see another man walking towards them, his clothes slightly worn and a faded black eye patch over his left eye. A wooden cane rested at his right side as he ambled towards them with a slight limp.
"Cousin Akram," A wide grin suddenly broke out over Abdul's face. As he neared Abdul amiably slapped a hand over the man's back. " As-salamu alaykum. Where have you been?" he grinned.
"As-salamu alaykum. Sorting out some problems with getting Visas for us to go back home but with this pandemic upon us it is taking way to long. I apologize it took so long." The man's voice had a slow cadence to it and he talked quietly, as if it physically hurt him to raise his voice. Despite this, his words were clear-cut and precise, and he accentuated his words with acute deliberateness. He sighed and rested his weight on his cane. "I will get the information to you as soon as my contacts all get back to me but we can count out the American government so it must be freelance."
Akram's general air and manner of speech suggested that he was born of high class, yet at the same time, his slightly worn-out clothes and eye patch seemed to suggest otherwise. His one good eye drooped something terrible and looked haggard, as if it had seen all the horrors of the world and lived to tell the tale. His hands were dotted with brown spots that had gradually accumulated with age and his skin was tanned.
"Really," Abdul rumbled in response to Akram's information. A devious smirk slid across his features. "This is not going to be fun for those that get in my way trying to find out who has him, Outlaw Pro Wrestling will not know what has hit it. They will be gobsmacked if they don’t get him back for me."
The elder man nodded, his gaze briefly wandering towards Abdul’s sister Nazirah, glancing over her uninterestedly before turning back towards Abdul. "Trump is a punk. He is not even good enough to carry your charges bags. Are you going to be okay with your match against this Violence guy? I know your associates put their hands on him a few weeks back, he won’t forget that especially as his harlot as the special referee."
Abdul nodded his head and Akram continued on, unfazed.
"Do you really think that I will get in the squared circle for this X-Kore Division?" he stopped, thinking over his next words carefully. "I will not step into the ring until it is sanctioned as a proper wrestling match as do wrestler’s use chairs or even tables? I do not think so. Also I will not wrestle with anyone that has not got the proper paper work to prove that they have gone through the mandatory fourteen days self-isolation as I do not want this virus."
“This is true,” Abdul said. "How is it that you are here anyway?"
Akram shifted his weight and then winced when he put too much pressure on his bad leg. When he looked up again, he shook his head forlornly. "To put it simply, Abdul, they're trying to steal your limelight. This is all supposed to be about Abdul bin Hussain not these infidels. We need to let you free to destroy those infidels in the ring."
Abdul took in this information wordlessly, listening with rapt attention. Once Akram had finished, the Butcher of Basra nodded his head ardently, his eyes suddenly livid and his tone dark. "They will feel the wrath," he growled fervently. "I—I need to teach them how to verbally destroy my opponents before I even set one foot within the squared circle. When that is done I will be ready to destroy them within it."
Akram and Nazirah exchanged furtive glances with one another while Abdul began to shuffle through his pockets frantically, searching for his cell phone. "This is not going to happen," he said angrily. "I will be running this promotion soon. And no one is going to get in the way."
Once he had located his cell phone, he tossed it towards Nazirah and the woman caught it in her hands, momentarily confused. "Get Akeem on the phone. Tell him I need a car and we need to get back to our meeting. He'll know what to do."
"What are you going to do about that Violence guy?" Akram inquired, his one eye narrowed.
"Nothing. This ah, this punk here will probably take care of him soon enough,” he said. “The match will be his demise. He is not important."
Akram nodded while Nazirah momentarily stepped out of the kitchen, busy on the phone. Rafiq suddenly made a coughing noise behind Abdul to get his attention and he and Akram both turned to look at him.
“I will not let you down,” he said. “Either of you.”