Post by coolrifletk47 on Jul 9, 2020 21:20:25 GMT -5
So here I am, the brand spankin new, OPW, PureBlood champion. An opportunity presented itself and I jumped on that like a fat kid on a Pizza Pie. My methods weren’t pretty, but the job got done. So here we are, the WANNABANG-OHHHHHH is packed up and ready to make the next town. My two best friends just waiting to hit the highway. One is probably in the back trying to conjure up a love demon or something and the other, well he is waiting to teach me how to subdue a seven-foot-tall Monster Man.
Because after all, when it is all said and done. When the ring is packed up and the arena is emptied, the show just gets back on the road.
I will crack another Zima (Lord, how did I get addicted to those abominations?) And I will move on down the road. Pureblood title on my shoulder, as soon as I remember where I put it, Zima in my belly, and two homies by my side.
Until
Until I get to the next stop, the next roadblock, a seven-foot-tall Power Ranger villain, with awful hair and a worse name. I mean Dark Tiger, seriously, for real?
I mean I am ninety-nine and one half percent sure that there is no way that was the best name he could come up with. I mean he sounds like a damn sub boss in a Mike Tyson’s Punch-Out sequel that only came out for the Virtual Boy.
But I guess none of that matters now, but seriously? I mean can you imagine, you show up at a wrasslin school or for some wrasslin outfit and you are a seven foot, genetic mutant of a human. You went as far as to grow out your ratty, black hair, and let it get all greasy like. You ingest enough protein Powder, Goat’s milk, and chicken breast that your stomach is a ticking, Nuclear, Craptastrophe waiting to happen at all times. But before your next Poohpocalypse you go and push so much wait that your muscles, muscles have definition.
And when all that is over, when you are finally ready to be unleashed on the world, you are just waiting on what you will be called. What name will strike fear in the hearts of men? What name will children run home and tell mom they need the newest action figure of? What name will be emblazoned on marquees and flyers and Pay Per View commercials across the Globe?
And they tell you we will call you………………………
Dark Tiger?
I mean at that point you may as well be Fart Face McPoopypants or Baron Skidmark Von Britchenstein. I mean I get that a name isn’t everything but damn man, it is at least something.
But let’s put the worst name ever aside for a minute at least. You see big fella, and no, I will never address you by that terrible name because I am a dick, I am just not that big of a dick. But anyways, you see big fella, I saw what you did last week. I am more than sure of what you are capable of doing. And I want you to know that between you and me and the trees, I don’t think it was an accident.
You wanted to make an impact, you wanted to put the fear of a higher power into everybody that night so you went to the ring with a purpose. You came out to break backs and make humble and you were done making humble. Davison never knew what hit him. Now sure, you can try to Lenny from “Of Mice and Men” through this whole deal if you want.
“Duhhh, I just didn’t know my own strength George? Can I go tend the rabbits now?”
But I ain’t buying that for even half a damn second.
This wasn’t your first rodeo, you came in hot and you came in like a porn star in the desert…..Hot, Stiff, and Ready to hurt somebody.
And mission accomplished. You got the whole locker room’s attention now stretch. But more to the point, ya got mine.
So here we are, just days away from my first title defense as the OPW PureBlood Campiones. And I got Oz the Great and Terrible standing in my way. So let me ask you this Sunshine, what do you think I am gonna do? Do you think I am gonna just go hide in the corner and hope? Am I just gonna hit the ring, shake the referee’s hand, grab the nearest step ladder and put MY title around YOUR waist? Is that what you think? You big, Tiny from that garbage Rob Zombie movie, lookin ass.
I will tell you exactly what is going to happen. I am gonna go all Nostradumbass on you real quick.
See I am going to sit behind the curtain and I am going to listen as your terrible music plays and listen as you make your way down to MY house. Then I am going to watch as your big, clumsy ass as you almost break your ankle climbing over the top rope while you try to look all menacing and terrifying. Then I will watch you as you yell at MY crowd and probably even spew that “Etched In Stone” catchphrase, finisher name, line of cheap cologne nonsense at anybody who is still polite enough to be paying attention. I will listen as the crowd goes mild and the crickets begin to rub those legs together and make that sad little chirping sound.
Then I am going to chug a one bourbon, one scotch, and three beers because I am freakin original and I don’t want to get sued by the Thorogood estate. Then I am going to walk to my house while my awesome music plays and I am gonna climb between those ropes and I am gonna stand eye and I imagine probably nipple to you, and I am gonna explain to your slow processing ass that for the next ten to fifteen minutes I am gonna beat you like you ate the last spoon of peanut butter even though my name was CLEARLY WRITTEN ON THE GOT DAMNED JAR!
Because you see you big, dumb, Marfan syndrome encrusted, Idiot pizza of a person with extra idiot, I will be good and God Damned before I let you derail this championship train that I have got chuggin along.
But please don’t come at me later this week and pretend that I am underestimating you. Because like I said earlier you big jar of stupid sauce, I know exactly what you might be capable of. You are big, you are strong, you have lasted several decades in this business but so have I. And I have done it drunk, sometimes drug addled, almost married, and best friends with a GOAT and a mini sociopathic killer from Dubai. I have spent drunken nights with a cardboard cutout and a guy who was literally from St. Olaf Minnesota. Nothin you have ever done or will ever do has anything on me Bro Bro Brazil. Now, I fully understand climbing a big, greasy mountain of stupid such as yourself will not be an easy trek. But easy ain’t really my jam sweetheart. So I think I am more than equipped.
But I want you to make no mistake, I am planning to stand up next to you and treat you like the Moron Mountain you are and I will chop you down with the edge of my hand all Voodoo Chile style. Because Lord knows I am a Voodoo Chile.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go find MY PureBlood title, because I have NO IDEA where I set that damn thing.
(Roughly ten to fifteen minutes later Kain has made his way to the back of the WANNABANG-OHHHHHHHHH Kain has found his PureBlood title and GOAT and well, we will let Kain explain)
Seriously bro, Pierre, PIERRE, GET THE RIGHT FUCK IN HERE, RIGHT FUCKING NOW!
Tom, what is it? I was getting stretched out so I can show you how to liquidate a man of great size. Oh dear.
Oh dear? Oh fucking dear? Is that really all you got?
I mean I guess to be fair, I don’t know what else to say either considering I just found GOAT in bed with a FUCKING LADY MADE OF HAMBURGER MEAT, WHO LOOKS VAGUELY LIKE BLAIR BU FUCKING CHANAN, WEARING MY PUREBLOOD TITLE!
BAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!
No GOAT, this isn’t perfectly normal bro.
Pierre, look man, I don’t have time for this right now, do me a favor, grab my belt, throw it in a trash bag and douse the thing with sanitizer, because I am pretty sure I am gonna go puke.
Like I am sure we are gonna come back one night and GOAT is gonna have his dong tucked between his legs dancing to that fucked up Silence of the Lambs jam telling the mirror how hard he would fuck himself.
And I can’t tell you how I am gonna respond to that.
So I am gonna go, I will see you out back.
( A few moments later TK meets Pierre, who is clad in a black MMA out fit, which includes Fight shorts and rash guards looking like a little mini bad ass/)
Okay, so when you subdue a man of great size it is all about timing, and sudden, decisive movements.
First approach him, one shot to the throat to immobilize him, one shot to the knee to get him down to your level, rip his eye out with both hands, and then one good twist and the neck broken and he is gone.
Uhhhhh, P, when you say gone….
Well, we have to make sure he does not counter attack.
Ummmm, yeah but not forever right, like you aren’t training me to kill Tony the Tiger right?
I don’t understand, what did you think we were training for?
I mean if you are uncomfortable with the term kill we can use liquidate, lay to rest, or my personal favorite Un-Alive.
Pierre, this is wrasslin, not the fuckin Kumite. Odin on some Oyster Crackers Pierre, I don’t need the guy dead I just need him not to be able to put me in a damn wheelchair.
I fail to see the flaw in my plan then.
Well, Jail, jail is a big flaw. And my whole daily life goal of NOT MURDERING ANYONE IS ANOTHER BIG FUCKING FLAW.
Well, Thomas, there is no need to be this dramatic. Fine we will move on to technique B. Get shoulder to shoulder with your target, lock eyes with him, let him feel your gaze, bring your right leg back, pivot and kick square in his bait and tackle.
You can kick that high can’t you?
You do what I say and you will be PureBlood champion for as long as you wish or at least until the authorities implicate you in GOAT's MEAT WOMAN massacre.
God damnit P, Sometimes I really hate that I love you, just bag my belt will ya? Fucin hell man, with friends like you, I swear to Allah.
This might be harder than I thought.
…...To be continued.
Because after all, when it is all said and done. When the ring is packed up and the arena is emptied, the show just gets back on the road.
I will crack another Zima (Lord, how did I get addicted to those abominations?) And I will move on down the road. Pureblood title on my shoulder, as soon as I remember where I put it, Zima in my belly, and two homies by my side.
Until
Until I get to the next stop, the next roadblock, a seven-foot-tall Power Ranger villain, with awful hair and a worse name. I mean Dark Tiger, seriously, for real?
I mean I am ninety-nine and one half percent sure that there is no way that was the best name he could come up with. I mean he sounds like a damn sub boss in a Mike Tyson’s Punch-Out sequel that only came out for the Virtual Boy.
But I guess none of that matters now, but seriously? I mean can you imagine, you show up at a wrasslin school or for some wrasslin outfit and you are a seven foot, genetic mutant of a human. You went as far as to grow out your ratty, black hair, and let it get all greasy like. You ingest enough protein Powder, Goat’s milk, and chicken breast that your stomach is a ticking, Nuclear, Craptastrophe waiting to happen at all times. But before your next Poohpocalypse you go and push so much wait that your muscles, muscles have definition.
And when all that is over, when you are finally ready to be unleashed on the world, you are just waiting on what you will be called. What name will strike fear in the hearts of men? What name will children run home and tell mom they need the newest action figure of? What name will be emblazoned on marquees and flyers and Pay Per View commercials across the Globe?
And they tell you we will call you………………………
Dark Tiger?
I mean at that point you may as well be Fart Face McPoopypants or Baron Skidmark Von Britchenstein. I mean I get that a name isn’t everything but damn man, it is at least something.
But let’s put the worst name ever aside for a minute at least. You see big fella, and no, I will never address you by that terrible name because I am a dick, I am just not that big of a dick. But anyways, you see big fella, I saw what you did last week. I am more than sure of what you are capable of doing. And I want you to know that between you and me and the trees, I don’t think it was an accident.
You wanted to make an impact, you wanted to put the fear of a higher power into everybody that night so you went to the ring with a purpose. You came out to break backs and make humble and you were done making humble. Davison never knew what hit him. Now sure, you can try to Lenny from “Of Mice and Men” through this whole deal if you want.
“Duhhh, I just didn’t know my own strength George? Can I go tend the rabbits now?”
But I ain’t buying that for even half a damn second.
This wasn’t your first rodeo, you came in hot and you came in like a porn star in the desert…..Hot, Stiff, and Ready to hurt somebody.
And mission accomplished. You got the whole locker room’s attention now stretch. But more to the point, ya got mine.
So here we are, just days away from my first title defense as the OPW PureBlood Campiones. And I got Oz the Great and Terrible standing in my way. So let me ask you this Sunshine, what do you think I am gonna do? Do you think I am gonna just go hide in the corner and hope? Am I just gonna hit the ring, shake the referee’s hand, grab the nearest step ladder and put MY title around YOUR waist? Is that what you think? You big, Tiny from that garbage Rob Zombie movie, lookin ass.
I will tell you exactly what is going to happen. I am gonna go all Nostradumbass on you real quick.
See I am going to sit behind the curtain and I am going to listen as your terrible music plays and listen as you make your way down to MY house. Then I am going to watch as your big, clumsy ass as you almost break your ankle climbing over the top rope while you try to look all menacing and terrifying. Then I will watch you as you yell at MY crowd and probably even spew that “Etched In Stone” catchphrase, finisher name, line of cheap cologne nonsense at anybody who is still polite enough to be paying attention. I will listen as the crowd goes mild and the crickets begin to rub those legs together and make that sad little chirping sound.
Then I am going to chug a one bourbon, one scotch, and three beers because I am freakin original and I don’t want to get sued by the Thorogood estate. Then I am going to walk to my house while my awesome music plays and I am gonna climb between those ropes and I am gonna stand eye and I imagine probably nipple to you, and I am gonna explain to your slow processing ass that for the next ten to fifteen minutes I am gonna beat you like you ate the last spoon of peanut butter even though my name was CLEARLY WRITTEN ON THE GOT DAMNED JAR!
Because you see you big, dumb, Marfan syndrome encrusted, Idiot pizza of a person with extra idiot, I will be good and God Damned before I let you derail this championship train that I have got chuggin along.
But please don’t come at me later this week and pretend that I am underestimating you. Because like I said earlier you big jar of stupid sauce, I know exactly what you might be capable of. You are big, you are strong, you have lasted several decades in this business but so have I. And I have done it drunk, sometimes drug addled, almost married, and best friends with a GOAT and a mini sociopathic killer from Dubai. I have spent drunken nights with a cardboard cutout and a guy who was literally from St. Olaf Minnesota. Nothin you have ever done or will ever do has anything on me Bro Bro Brazil. Now, I fully understand climbing a big, greasy mountain of stupid such as yourself will not be an easy trek. But easy ain’t really my jam sweetheart. So I think I am more than equipped.
But I want you to make no mistake, I am planning to stand up next to you and treat you like the Moron Mountain you are and I will chop you down with the edge of my hand all Voodoo Chile style. Because Lord knows I am a Voodoo Chile.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go find MY PureBlood title, because I have NO IDEA where I set that damn thing.
(Roughly ten to fifteen minutes later Kain has made his way to the back of the WANNABANG-OHHHHHHHHH Kain has found his PureBlood title and GOAT and well, we will let Kain explain)
Seriously bro, Pierre, PIERRE, GET THE RIGHT FUCK IN HERE, RIGHT FUCKING NOW!
Tom, what is it? I was getting stretched out so I can show you how to liquidate a man of great size. Oh dear.
Oh dear? Oh fucking dear? Is that really all you got?
I mean I guess to be fair, I don’t know what else to say either considering I just found GOAT in bed with a FUCKING LADY MADE OF HAMBURGER MEAT, WHO LOOKS VAGUELY LIKE BLAIR BU FUCKING CHANAN, WEARING MY PUREBLOOD TITLE!
BAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!
No GOAT, this isn’t perfectly normal bro.
Pierre, look man, I don’t have time for this right now, do me a favor, grab my belt, throw it in a trash bag and douse the thing with sanitizer, because I am pretty sure I am gonna go puke.
Like I am sure we are gonna come back one night and GOAT is gonna have his dong tucked between his legs dancing to that fucked up Silence of the Lambs jam telling the mirror how hard he would fuck himself.
And I can’t tell you how I am gonna respond to that.
So I am gonna go, I will see you out back.
( A few moments later TK meets Pierre, who is clad in a black MMA out fit, which includes Fight shorts and rash guards looking like a little mini bad ass/)
Okay, so when you subdue a man of great size it is all about timing, and sudden, decisive movements.
First approach him, one shot to the throat to immobilize him, one shot to the knee to get him down to your level, rip his eye out with both hands, and then one good twist and the neck broken and he is gone.
Uhhhhh, P, when you say gone….
Well, we have to make sure he does not counter attack.
Ummmm, yeah but not forever right, like you aren’t training me to kill Tony the Tiger right?
I don’t understand, what did you think we were training for?
I mean if you are uncomfortable with the term kill we can use liquidate, lay to rest, or my personal favorite Un-Alive.
Pierre, this is wrasslin, not the fuckin Kumite. Odin on some Oyster Crackers Pierre, I don’t need the guy dead I just need him not to be able to put me in a damn wheelchair.
I fail to see the flaw in my plan then.
Well, Jail, jail is a big flaw. And my whole daily life goal of NOT MURDERING ANYONE IS ANOTHER BIG FUCKING FLAW.
Well, Thomas, there is no need to be this dramatic. Fine we will move on to technique B. Get shoulder to shoulder with your target, lock eyes with him, let him feel your gaze, bring your right leg back, pivot and kick square in his bait and tackle.
You can kick that high can’t you?
You do what I say and you will be PureBlood champion for as long as you wish or at least until the authorities implicate you in GOAT's MEAT WOMAN massacre.
God damnit P, Sometimes I really hate that I love you, just bag my belt will ya? Fucin hell man, with friends like you, I swear to Allah.
This might be harder than I thought.
…...To be continued.